#the doc where i drafted this reply

[keepswingin]

Challenge time!! Write a stand alone scene with 143 words. 😉 (I personally would prefer Minsung or Felix but you can choose whatever you want 😂)

"You're not supposed to die."

Minho huffs. The blanket he's bundled in feels stiff and heavy around his body, anchoring him to a floor that's long fallen out from beneath him. He looks up at his other half, and feels his chest twist.

"Everyone dies eventually," Minho throws back, words snapping against the bitter silence that's settled around them. Jisung's nose is red. The skin around his fingers is brittle and torn as he reaches out, months old callouses scattered across his knuckles.

The blanket shifts slightly as he finds one of Minho's hands, freezing fingers slipping against his warm palm. He should be cold like Jisung, but he isn't, fever burning him from the inside out.

"Not you," Jisung whispers, heartbroken. "Not like this."

Minho doesn't know what else to say.

There's nothing left to say, when he's never felt more alive.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Substance, Shadow, and Spirit [remixed, abridged] by Tao Yuanming

[girlygguk]

OLD DRAFT / CUT SCENE / NOT IN THE MAIN FIC

a/n going through easy chapter 1 rn and LOOK at what i just found in my docs from the og outline... AHHHHHHHHHH 🗣️🗣️🗣️ they were initially gonna be bffs that kiss in the first draft...😭 boundaries is not a word in my vocabulary actually

content idol jk x idol fem reader, sleepy cuddling, simp jeon jeongguk, touchey lovey bffs, sfw, fluff, 531 words

“when are you gonna get a bigger bed? you have superstar money now; i think you can afford to upgrade to at least a double…”

jungkook’s lips curved into a soft smile at your teasing, though his eyes remained closed. you weren’t wrong — he could upgrade. hell, he could buy ten california kings without even batting an eyelid. he’s nineteen now, probably overdue for something a little more grown-up than a single bed.

…but during his rookie days, he fought so hard for this single bed. it wasn’t just a bed. it was victory.

out of two crappy choices in the room he shared with taehyung and jimin, it was the better option: a tiny single bed where his feet hung slightly off the edge or half of a squeaky, ratty bunk. it had taken him three hours of intense negotiations, whining, and almost getting his ass beat by both his hyungs to claim it as his. giving it up now just because he had money felt wrong. it was the sentiment... right?

right. and maybe — juuuust maybe — it had something to do with how this bed kept you so close to him when you wanted to relax. what if he upgraded, and suddenly there was too much space? what if you didn’t cuddle as close anymore?

“i will soon, haven’t had the time lately,” he finally responded, his voice soft and unhurried.

“oo, do you wanna go furniture shopping? we can sit on all the fancy display chairs and beds like we always do, but this time you’ll actually be buying something—”

“later,” he cut you off with a small smile, his eyes still closed but shifting a little closer until he could feel your breath ghosting over his face. “we’ll go later.”

“kay,” you murmured, your eyelids growing heavier as you watched his peaceful features. “you gonna nap?”

“want to,” he nodded gently. “d’you?”

you reached out to brush a piece of fringe from his eyes, the movement making it fall in soft waves. “sure,” you murmured, your fingers lingering for just a moment before settling back under your cheek. as you snuggled into his pillow, his familiar scent enveloped you, a warm, comforting embrace that felt like home.

but just as your body started to relax, you sat up abruptly, reaching for your phone. jungkook’s eyes slowly cracked open, heavy with sleep as he watched you.

“whatcha doing?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with a gentle rasp.

“setting an alarm,” you replied, rubbing the back of his hand as it rested between you. “have dance practice at 12, nari-unnie will kill me if i’m late.”

“ss’ok, i’ll wake you up.”

you glanced down at him, your lips twitching into a small, knowing smile. you both knew he’d do no such thing.

his soft, fluffy hair framed his face, his pouty lips slightly parted, just enough to reveal a hint of his bunny teeth. his big, sleepy eyes gazed up at you with a quiet patience, boba-like and heavy with drowsiness. adorable.

wordlessly, you finished setting the alarm, placing your phone on his bedside table before slipping back under the blanket. this time, you moved closer, and without hesitation, his hand lifted, draping naturally over your waist as you shuffled nearer, closing the small gap between you.

the room fell into a peaceful silence, your breathing syncing as you both basked in the quiet comfort of each other.

until his soft voice broke the stillness.

“you smell so good.”

“yeah?” you murmured, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah,” he replied, a little dazed.

“it’s the perfume you bought me,” you reminded him, the smile audible in your tone.

“i know,” he whispered, the distance between you shrinking as his hand slid further around your waist, his fingers curling gently over your side.

“was it expensive?” you teased lightly.

“mhm.” even with his eyes closed, he could sense the way your head turned into the pillow, your neck slightly bared. he leaned forward, just a little, until there was no space left between you.

you exhaled softly as his nose brushed against the crook of your neck, and your hand shifted to rest gently on his chest.

“really expensive…” he hummed into your skin, his breath warm against your pulse. “spent all my money on it. i’m broke now.”

[purplealmonds]

Finished this just in time for the new trailer drop! This is my Mononoke illustration featuring assorted merch from the anime, movie, and stage play! How many can you recognize? ⚖️👹

(Yes, please send answers in the replies! Answers, progress pics, artist commentary will be drafted on a separate post when I'm less tired) ⭐️ UPDATE 04/03/24: Abridged artist commentary is now available under the cut! For the full version, please see the Google Doc linked in the replies.

👁️Overview 

Late last year, I rather belatedly discovered Mononoke’s 15th anniversary came and went, and with it, an entire swath of new content to manically pore over. This is an illustration of the various Mononoke merchandise, props, and set dressing I discovered.

---

🔎Scope

Some fun facts regarding the work that went into this illustration!

Not including research time, this project ran for roughly two months, consuming much of my waking hours outside of my full time and freelance jobs.

While the illustration does not depict all of my findings, it does feature over 120 unique props and set dressings!

The majority of the props and set dressing were modeled to varying degrees of detail in SketchUp.

To model prep, I often put together schematics on Photoshop or Illustrators. Some were created from scratch. Others were created with the liberal usage of the Photoshop transform and perspective warp function. 

The master file is 1.5GB. The dimensions are 6400x3600 at 300 dpi, and contains over 2,200 layers. 

Near the end of production, the master file became so unwieldy I created a separate working file. This way, I could create assets lag-free then import the layers into the master file. 

---

Past this point is where most of the commentary cuts were made for the sake of brevity. Again, look in the replies for the Google Doc link containing the full version with a table of contents for easier navigation!

---

🗳️3D Layout

As you can see, the backbone of this illustration is the 3D model. I spent perhaps 30-40% of my production time on this stage.

And this is the lit version. The lighting ultimately got downplayed in favor of showcasing the vibrant colors. I like how simple it looks though!

---

🎬Production-Based Set Dressing

In addition to merchandise, I wanted to insert set dressing and props from the various Mononoke productions. 

🦊Kusuriuri

It’s odd to have a section dedicated just to him, but his unique appearance warrants it. His garb and overall appearance is an amalgam of the anime and movie. The original intent was ambiguity– kind of like the blue/black vs. yellow/white dress phenomena a few years back. But after doing the color flats, I rather liked how the rich, unaltered colored fit with the overall composition so it became more blatant. I’m surprised that nobody has commented on this since I published the illustration. Maybe because I didn’t feature him in a close-up?

🐈 kai ~Ayakashi~Bake Neko (2006)

Finding props iconic to this story arc (outside of the Kusuriuri’s tools of trade, of course) was somewhat difficult. While the environment was richly decorated, it mainly consisted of 2D artwork which I wasn’t keen on retracing. I opted to paint objects that characters interacted with or featured heavily in the show.

Salt Jar

Candlestick

Rat Trap

🦋Mononoke (2007)

The props fall into three distinct categories here: Kusuriuri’s tools and trinkets; things featured in the opening and ending credits; and objects iconic to each of the five story arcs in the series. I tried to keep most of them clustered on the tatami, but as space grew scarce some props trickled up onto the deck as well.

Medicine Box

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Mirror

Ring

Geta Sandal

Necklace

Paper Umbrella (Zashikiwarashi)

Daruma Dolls ( Zashikiwarashi)

Gunpowder Ball (Umi Bozu)

Smoking Pipe (Nopperabou)

Genjiko Blocks (Nue)

Train Ticket (Bake Neko)

Lantern (Anime OP)

Butterflies (Anime EP)

☂️Mononoke: Karakasa (2024)

Pretty slim pickings for the new movie since I only had the teaser, first trailer, and movie poster to reference from. Kusuriuri’s tools of trade were a given, but finding memorable and narratively significant objects was a tad troublesome.

Thankfully, the set dressing ended up (however subconsciously) strikingly similar to the movie’s environment design, down to the green tatami and multicolor shoji screen. I suppose at this point I was so immersed in Mononoke content that its aesthetics subconsciously informed my design choices! 

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Comb

Movie Poster

Butterfly (Custom design)

---

🪭Official Merchandise

Goods related to canonical narratives and/or productions.

🎊15th Anniversary

Mononoke Shu - A light novel by Hideyui Niki & illustrated by 2964_KO

Whiskey Glass & Box

📖 Key Frame Art Books by Hashimoto Takashi

Ayakashi Key Art Frame Book (2010)

Key Frame Art Book vol.9 (2017)

📚Manga by Yaeko Ninagawa

Kai Ayakashi: Bake Neko Vol. 1-2

Kai Ayakashi: Mononoke Prequel

Mononoke Vol. 1-10

🎭Butai Mononoke

Bakeneko Pamphlet 

Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Acrylic Standees

Zashikiwarashi Manegi

💿Physical Media

Official OST CD

DVD Box Set

Yokai Pattern Fabric

---

Common Collab Merchandise

This category consists of goods that are generally more affordable and feature graphics from the source material with minimal alterations.

Amnibus

Wall Scrolls

Tenugui Fabric 

Shot Glasses

Minoyaki Bean Plates

ANIGA-TER

Stickers

Can Badges

Canvas Prints

Anique

Diorama Acrylic Stand

Acrylic Blocks

Challenge Kuji

Kusuriuri & Hyper Clocks

eeo Store Online

Folding Fan

Keychains

Can Badges

gj character G

Cushion

Acrylic Charms

Neo Gate

Satchels

Mini Badges

Mini Badges by Mame Shinoda

---

High-End Collab Merchandise

Goods which derive motifs from the characters, props, and patterns from the production and transform them in an elevated manner through abstraction or usage of precious materials.

gj character G

Exorcism Sword Ring

Goodsmile

Kusuriuri Nendoroid Figurine

Folding Screen

Kusuriuri & Hyper Plush

Tote Bag

Kaya

Umbrella

Tenbin Kanzashi

Tabi Socks

Dress

Kotobukiya

Figurine

Mayla

Pump Heels

Kusuriuri & Hyper Hairpins

Tenbin Earrings

Hyper Earrings

Noitamina Apparel

Perfume

Tenbin Necklace

Folding Fan

Super Groupies

Purse

Wallet

Watch

Tsumuji Design

Exorcism Sword Necklace

Ofuda Bracelet

Useless Use Lab

Fragrance Set

Air Purifier

Three-Sided Mirror

[willowsnook]

https://www.tumblr.com/willowsnook/777849918464393216/halfway-to-always-pt-2

more pleaseeeeeeee!!! maybe like their relationship growing more ? idk more relationship things since we technically haven’t see them together

pt. 1, pt. 2

Quinn hughes x sharks!reader

—-------------------------------------------

Long distance had not been easy, but you and Quinn were really trying to make it work. It was a lot of late-night calls, quick trips across the border, and constant texting. If you were at a different point in your life, you might complain, but where you are now was actually perfect. You didn’t have to worry about splitting time between work and a boyfriend, because your boyfriend lived 900 miles away, so he wasn’t expecting your physical time. 

It was easy for him too – he had strayed away from relationships ever since he was drafted in the NHL, not wanting to put someone through the experience of him being away all the time and always focused on hockey. The first half of the season came and went and you fell into a good routine: watch Quinn’s games when you could, call him after, fall asleep to his voice.

It was after a night Sharks game, when you saw that someone else had tried to call you: Ellen. The second you saw the missed call, you immediately dialed her number. 

“Hey Ellen, sorry I missed your call,” you said, concerned. It was pretty late where she was at so the unexpected call had you on high alert. 

“Hey sweetheart, I know you don’t have your phone on during games, but I wanted to tell you that Quinn got hurt tonight,” she said softly.

Your heart sank, “How hurt?” 

“Not terribly, but something with his obliques,” she said. “I talked to him an hour ago, he said it’s looking like there’s a good chance he’s going to miss some games.”

You were devastated for Quinn; missing some upcoming games likely meant he wouldn’t be able to play in the Four Nations tournament either. He was so happy when he was selected for the team and you knew this would crush him. You thanked Ellen for the call and called your boyfriend next. 

“Hi baby,” he greeted sleepily. 

"Hi, I just heard. Are you okay?" Your voice was tight with concern.

"I've been better," Quinn sighed, and you could practically see him running a hand through his hair, that frustrated gesture you'd come to know so well. "Doc says it's just a strain, but..." He trailed off.

"Ellen mentioned you might miss some games."

A heavy pause hung between you. "Yeah. And probably Four Nations too." His voice cracked slightly on the last word, confirming your fears.

"Oh, Quinn," you whispered, wishing more than anything you could be there to hold him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's hockey, you know? These things happen." He was trying to sound casual, but you could hear the disappointment weighing down each word. "I just... I wanted it so badly.”

He sounded so meek over the phone, and your heart broke in half listening. You tried to keep the conversation going but saying he was tired, all you could do was remind him that you were here for him before hanging up.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. He had his bag thrown over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Quinn injured his oblique,” you told him, trying to keep your emotions at bay. 

“How bad?” He asked. 

“Bad,” you replied. “He’s going to miss four nations.” 

Will held open his arms, and you crumpled into them, trying to take deep breaths. You heard him talking to someone else so you pulled back, meeting Macklin’s sad gaze. He collected you from Will’s arms and held you tightly against him. 

“Okay, let’s make a plan,” Macklin told Will. “You deal with the flight stuff and I’ll get her stuff from the apartment?”

“Already looking up flights,” Will said, scrolling through his phone. “Last one of the night leaving in two hours. I’ll get it.” 

“How much is it?” You asked, turning to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Will,” you warned, and he gave you a look.

“Dude, we make so much money, it doesn’t matter.” 

He didn’t let you argue any further and after a quick stop by your apartment you were on your way to the airport. 

Macklin had driven you, and you sat in silence for a moment before he nudged your shoulder gently.

"He's going to be okay, you know," he said softly. "Hockey players are built differently."

You nodded, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. "I know. It's just... he wanted this so badly."

"And he'll have other opportunities," Macklin assured you. "But right now, what he needs is you."

The flight to Vancouver was mercifully quick, though you spent most of it staring at the seat in front of you, unable to sleep despite the late hour. By the time you arrived at his apartment, it was nearly 3 AM. You used the key he had given you the last time you’d seen him to open the door to the quiet place. 

Being as quiet as possible, you set your bag down on the couch before heading towards Quinn’s room. Taking a moment, you admired his sleeping form, his eyebrows were unconsciously furrowed, an almost scowl on his face. 

You stepped into the room slowly, unsure if you should wake him. But as if sensing you, Quinn stirred, his eyes blinking open. The second he registered that it was you standing in his doorway, his expression softened.

"Hey," he rasped, voice thick with sleep and surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I got on the first flight I could," you said, stepping closer. "I couldn’t just stay there knowing you were hurting."

He sat up with a wince, pushing the blankets down to his waist. “You flew all the way from San Jose… in the middle of the night?”

You nodded, climbing up onto the bed beside him. “Of course I did.”

His jaw clenched for a second, like he was trying to hold something in, but then he reached out and gently pulled you into him. His hand slid around the back of your neck, his lips pressing against your temple. “You’re crazy,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back. “But I love you. And I wanted to be here.”

“You love me?” He asked, frozen in place. Your breath hitched, not realizing what you had let slip out. 

Your heart hammered against your ribs as the admission hung in the air between you. You hadn't planned to say it like this—in his darkened bedroom at 3 AM, both of you exhausted, him injured—but there it was.

"I do," you said softly, deciding to own the moment rather than try to take it back. "I love you, Quinn."

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, a mix of vulnerability and wonder crossing his features. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I love you too," he whispered, his hand gently cupping your face. "God, I've been wanting to tell you for weeks, but I didn't want to say it over the phone."

Relief washed over you, followed quickly by a warmth that spread through your chest. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“If it means I get to be woken up at 3am to you in my room, I’ll do it more often,” he joked and you laughed. His tone turned serious again, “I’m glad you’re here. I needed you.”

“I know,” you told him, bringing your lips to press against his. “I’m here, always.” 

[cosmicalily]

"till you tell me to leave" - a bangchan oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i found a half-written draft for this in my old google docs with my other email account and immediately knew i needed to do a rewrite.

warnings: angst (breakup, exes to lovers)

Three days, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes.

Four days.

Four days and one minute.

Another sleepless night. You didn’t mean to count the minutes, but your eyes remained fixated on your phone, half watching the clock, half staring at the lock screen you’d neglected to change.

Everything around you brought back floods of memories that you didn’t want to deal with. Pictures from photo booths, his arm slung around your shoulder, his hand on your cheek, his lips pressed to your forehead. The one hoodie you’d managed to hold onto, even after he’d packed all his other belongings up when he left. The pre-workout he kept in the back of your pantry. His toothbrush in your bathroom drawer. 

He’d been yours in every way, and you’d been his.

Maybe this was why you’d been so scared to love your best friend; you knew that more came with risk, chances of slamming doors, crying each other's names, and duffle bags hastily filled.

Even when you’d ended things, why were you still writing pages, when he’d been the one to close the envelope? Why were you spending hours nestled on the couch in his hoodie, staring at a black tv screen, unaware of the world around you?

new message from 'channie'

i think i left my hoodie at yours. you home?

i’m driving over.

A part of you wanted to run into the bathroom, brush your hair, remove the two-day old mascara on your eyes and change into something nice. A part of you remembered he’d seen you in every single form, and he loved you regardless. 

He used to tell you how beautiful you were every minute of the day, even when you felt anything but. Did he miss saying those things now? Or did he have another girl to call his angel, his baby, his darling? 

Just the thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

new message from 'channie'

outside.

Taking a deep breath and slipping on your sneakers, you began walking down the hallway of your apartment building. Even though the elevator wasn’t broken for once, you wanted to take the stairs. You needed time to think, and time to turn back if you felt the need.

Why were you so easily coming to him? Well, technically you weren’t, were you? He wanted his hoodie back, presumably the one you were currently wearing.

He’d broken your heart. No, not broken. Slowly tugged at it, until nothing that remained was a dull ache and your pulse.

You thought about turning back, about yelling in his face, about simply bursting into tears and curling up into a ball at the bottom of the staircase, until your neighbour came and yelled at you for disturbing everyone’s sleep at 12:29am.

You thought about these things, but you never felt like acting on them.

What was the point, anyway?

You never would have meant it.

You spotted his familiar black car, the scratch on the bottom from when he’d practised parallel parking, the Sharpie stars you’d drawn with him whilst drunk on his windscreen. You felt your heart swell a little, and even more so when the figure inside the vehicle turned his head to look directly into your eyes.

In silence, you walked over and sat down in the passenger seat, doing your best to look at everything but him. He nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and started the engine. He looked down at your torso, noticing his hoodie, but didn’t make a move to retrieve it. You didn’t attempt to take it off.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audibly.

“Hm?”

“Your seatbelt isn’t on,” you replied.

“I was in a rush.”

There was a sudden quiet. The click of his seatbelt, then yours, then the gentle hum of the car as he began to drive.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I left,” Chris finally said softly, eyes focused on the road ahead.

You ignored him. You didn’t really know where he was taking you, and you honestly couldn’t care less. He almost felt like a stranger. A stranger you’d poured your heart out to, and spent hours with, pressing kisses to each other's faces whilst watching movies, watching work out in the gym, cooking food for and dancing while doing the dishes with. A stranger who had been the vast majority of your firsts, who knew your body like the back of his hand, and spent long minutes in the latest and earliest hours loving you, worshipping you.

A stranger who’d been your everything.

As you drove in silence, apart from the soft rhythm of his playlist in the background, his hand found its way to yours, and gently caressed your fingers, as if asking for permission.

You allowed your palm to open.

His fingers tucked into yours, and his thumb brushed against your hand. 

His hand felt warm, familiar. His fingertips were calloused; a result of the way he gripped his pen when he frantically wrote his lyrics late at night.

The car slowed down, then stopped completely. He’d pulled over on the side of a road, in the middle of nowhere. It was ghostly silent, and the trees cast shadows through the headlights.

It was oddly comforting.

“I fucked up.”

“I know you did, Chris.”

He covered his face in his hands in frustration, letting go of yours in the process. Your hand felt a sudden coldness.

“I didn’t . . . I don’t know why I left you. I nearly called you, right after I left. I thought . . . I thought you’d want space, thought I shouldn’t have to put you through anymore. And you were getting fed up with me, I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.”

“I was still in love with you.”

“Was? Past tense?”

“I still love you. I didn’t necessarily fall out of love, Chris, I just . . . I felt like I lost a part of me. Everything felt familiar and distant at the same time, and there were traces of you everywhere. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I can never sleep.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been sleeping even less since I left. The bed’s cold.”

“Same with mine.”

You paused, staring at each other. Chris faced you properly.

“I’m still in love with you. And I’ll try forever if it means I can make you fall again.”

You smiled a little, letting your hand trail up his arm and wrap around his shoulders, resting your face in his warm neck. His hands moved to your waist, moving under his hoodie and settling on your bare skin.  “We should probably get some sleep,” you mumbled into him.

“Your place?”

“Our place. I still have your toothbrush, I think. And more than one of your hoodies.”

“Even if you don't, it doesn't matter,” Chris replied, clasping your hand in his again and gesturing to the backseat. His duffle bag sat there, zipped up, seemingly untouched since he’d left. “I’m coming home. If you’ll let me, of course.”

“You won’t leave?”

“Not unless you say so.”

“So never?”

“Never.”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[sorenwuzhere]

The Day After

cw: dubcon, male reader, overstimulation, implied prior engagement in sexual activities, ooc, porn without plot A/N: I have never read or watched Jujutsu Kaisen and I don't think I will have time to do so anytime soon so don't expect an accurate writing of Toji. I just wrote this purely for the horny lol. This is also a pretty old draft I wrote this back in 2021 and haven't edited it, just wanted to get rid of it from my google docs. Anyway, enjoy or don't.

Toji’s eyes fluttered open just doing that seemed hard, a familiar ache in his lower abdomen and his ass. Memories of last night came flooding back, he opened his eyes fully and saw your naked body lying next to him, sleeping peacefully, it’s almost like you weren’t the person who fucked him until he passed out last night. He groaned in annoyance, partly from the pain that’s coursing through his body and the other from the fact that he wasn’t able to top you last night, there was also a bit of anxiety from you telling people about this, but it turned him on more than anything even though he was too prideful to admit it. He tries to get up but is immediately pulled down, he looks up and finds you pinning him from above

“Where are you going, To-ji” you asked the smaller man, saying his name mockingly, he tsked at you before answering

“I’m going to get something to drink” he replied

“Hm, why do you have to go anywhere for that? I have something for you to drink here” you replied slowly stroking your dick, smirking upon seeing the faint blush on the tips of Toji’s ears

“W-what the fuck are you saying” Toji replied after much thinking, silently cursing himself for stuttering, you smirked raising your eyebrows in amusement, you hold your dick on your hand jerking it off faster, Toji quickly catches you doing so and tries to hide the fear and anticipation 

“What- you’re-” before he could even finish you place your dick on top of his chest, pushing his pecs together, his pink cheeks blooms into a bloody red, words stuck in his throat

“Hah, so all it takes for you to shut up is a cock? I knew you were a slut” you spoke after a while, he opens his mouth to give you a snide remark but before a sound could even get out of his mouth, you thrust your dick inside him, his eyes widen in surprise and he gags from the sudden thrust

“There you go, just shut up and take it like the slut you are, yeah?” Toji closed his eyes as he unconsciously nodded his head, swirling his tongue on the tip of your cock to try and take a taste of you. You snort at his face, you haven’t even done much yet but he’s already so pliant, looks like fucking him dumb last night did the trick.

Again you thrust your hips to his mouth and he quickly responds licking your cock all over and bobbing his head the best he can, Toji brought up his hands to his chest and brought them together to give you more stimulation, he pushes his body up to rub you, you sigh in pleasure, breathing becoming more ragged as he continues, you continue on thrusting your hips in a slow steady rhythm, you stop for a moment and he looks up at you as if searching for an answer why you stopped but he didn’t have the chance to ask why when he felt your tip prodding his entrance teasingly, small whimpers escapes his lips while you tease him with your tip, he was getting frustrated he just wanted you inside of him already! 

“Are you putting it inside or not?” he glares at you, you hum amused at him for snapping at you, you snicker then finally snapped your hips forward to get your cock inside him, despite how much you fucked him last night his hole was so tight, sucking you in so eagerly.

Toji moaned at the feeling of your cock inside him, no matter how much you pounded him last night he couldn’t get used to the feeling of your cock inside him, it was just too much, your scent, your size, your stare, everything was so overwhelming and he wasn’t sure how to deal with all of these things at once, it was almost suffocating and although he would never admit it out loud he wouldn’t mind drowning in your presence.

You wanted to wait for him to relax but recalling how much shit he’s given you, you pushed the thought back and started thrusting into his tight hole. Toji was caught off guard. He didn't expect you to go immediately; he thought you’d at least be considerate enough for him to get ready, but he found it quite…hot.

“Hah, you’re hole just tightened, is this turning you on? What a slut" You asked the small man, he let out a choked moan, he couldn’t catch his breath from your pounding, how do you still have this much energy after everything you did to him last night.

Toji looked dazed, all you could do is chuckle at his expression, putting his legs on your shoulders and pressing his chest with yours, you trailed kisses down his neck and then bit onto his skin that was already full of bruises, he screamed as he feels blood trickle down his neck

“Ngh- not- AHH!” again he was cut off by his moans as you set a punishing pace, pounding into him roughly

“Haah! Agh Ahn~ W-wai- you fucking- ba- Hahh~ bastard” Toji kept getting cut off by his moans, it was actually quite impressive despite how fast you’re going, you wonder how fast you’ll need to thrust for him to shut up

Finally you stopped thrusting after a bit, he pants and tries to catch his breath propping himself up using his elbows to look at you

“What? Tired already? Thought you were going to shut me up with your dick? You ca-” Toji let out a silent scream, you thrust into him again this time harder, faster, rougher, he didn’t even know that was possible, what is with this inhumane speed? 

“Hmm? Why are you quiet now? Isn’t. This. What. You. Wanted?” you asked, thrusting harder into him to emphasize your words, all he could do as a reply was to moan and whine he couldn’t let a single word out because of the sudden shock of you thrusting in him

“That’s more like it, you’re prettier just being an obedient little slut so just stay that way, alright?” you taunt the man, he nodded dumbly too fucked out to register your words. You chuckle, he definitely looked better dumbed down like this. 

Toji suddenly shivered and you took that as a sign that you found his spot, you smirk at him and adjust his legs to hit his spot precisely, pistolling your hips you aim for his spot and thrust into him fast and rough, just how he liked it

“Mhh- Ahh! Ngh I- going to- ha- ack!” Toji tried to tell you that he was close but he was so fucked out that you can’t understand anything he’s saying but the tightening of his ass, his shivering, his lolled out tongue and his rolled back eyes spoke for itself

“Hah, cumming already? Aren’t you a certified whore how can you not take at least this much?” you said, getting cut off to breathe every once and again from how fast you were thrusting

“Ngh- can- please cum–!” he said again trying to warn you, opening his mouth wide a scream ripped out of his throat as he came all over his stomach and chest, some of it landing on your stomach, but even as he just came you still haven’t stopped thrusting, sobbing, Toji tried to push you away

“N-No mo– Ah~ ngh- plea- I- haah~” sobbing in between his words, you don’t bother trying to understand his words, just indulging yourself with his inside and chasing your own high you were even more turned on by him sobbing underneath you, Toji was terrified to feel you grow bigger in him, how was that even possible? 

“You- just now you- nggh~ I— haah~ wai-” Toji couldn’t let out coherent words anymore he was so drunk at the feeling of you, he can’t handle this any longer, just how much more will you keep going? 

Finally after what seemed like forever, Toji felt your cum fill him up and pushed him to the edge as he came again moaning your name. Toji pants, sighing in relief as he tried to catch his breath, his relieve was short lived as you pushed out of him and lift him up to make him lay on his stomach then push inside of him again

“Haah! Ngh~ Please I can’t anymore, no- m-ngh- haah~ more p-leashee~!” Toji’s begging fell onto deaf ears as you adjusted his hips, putting his knees on the bed and lifting his ass before pulling out until only your tip remained in him before slamming in again and again not letting him catch his breath.

Toji clutched the sheets and again tried to get away from you, crawling away, but your hard and fast thrusts made his legs wobbly and he couldn't find the strength to keep on moving.

You smirk as you feel him stop trying to get away and slowly giving in to your touch. You lean down to his ear and nibble on his earlobe 

“That’s it, did you figure it out? Below me is where you belong, so stay still~” you whispered huskily in his ear, Toji felt shivers down his spine upon feeling your hot breath on his nape and hearing your husky voice that’s a bit out of breath from how fast you were going.

Feeling his hole suddenly tighten you groaned causing his hole to tighten around you even more, ah did he find that hot? Toji was easier than you thought. Hearing you chuckle right beside his ear, Toji felt his face getting hot, what the hell is up with him? Why is he feeling this way? Over a chuckle? How fucking pathetic

“You keep on squeezing me Toji, what are you thinking inside that pretty little head of yours hm?” you comment, and to your delight that made him tighten around you even more

“Haha, you make me feel so good baby, let me repay the favor~” you whisper teasingly, adjusting your grip and the position of your thrusts, you thrust into him perfectly hitting his prostate, Toji gasped. 

You began hammering into him smashing his prostate repeatedly, the poor boy couldn’t even let out a whole moan as he keeps getting cut off from more of his moans, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he clutches the sheets harder, he bites onto the pillow below him feeling ashamed of the loud moans he keeps on releasing. 

You brought your hand down his face and forced him to look at you before you went down and crashed your lips with him, your other hand going down to his dick stroking him rough and fast, Toji gasped as you had planned, you shoved your tongue inside his mouth, exploring the inside of his mouth kissing him feverishly.

Toji feels himself melt and become more pliant to your touches once he feels your tongue inside his mouth, gulping in his moans and kissing him as if you’ve starved and his lips are the only things that can satiate your hunger, and he wasn’t wrong— you have waited way too long for this, you’re going to take every chance you get and make sure he won’t be able to forget the way you touched him and played with his body as you please like no one did before.

Separating from his lips you place your hand on his tits, you start to squeeze and massage them, pinching his nipples and playing with it. Toji's breath becomes ragged and whines every now and then slips from his mouth, everything was so overwhelming, just then his vision turned white and again he came onto the sheets, tears pricking his eyes and falling down his cheeks onto the sheets, not long after you came inside him 

“Haa I- hngh~ are- mmh!” Not understanding what he’s trying to say, you caught his lips in yours and kissed again, Toji noticed a trace of gentleness and savored every single bit of it until it quickly disappeared. 

Feeling him stop from moving you separated your lips from him, seeing him passed out you quirked your eyebrow, you contemplated if you were going to continue or let him rest, glancing at his face to see his peaceful expression one more time, you came to the decision that you’d let Toji take a rest for now.

Pulling out of him you picked him up and laid him down on his back, taking out the sheets and venturing into the bathroom to fetch wet towels to wipe his body down with. After replacing the sheets and cleaning Toji and yourself up, you lay down beside him, pulling him close to you. You convince yourself it’s just because it was cold and wanted some source of warmth, before closing your eyes and falling asleep.

[watcheraurora]

A Promise Broken, A Promise Kept

Okay fine, brain. I give in (I got this idea and it wouldn't let me go until I finished it) (The idea for this kinda possessed me and I wrote this over the course of like four days. It's 43 Google Doc pages but I wrote it in Tumblr drafts lol) 15.8k words

—

"Where... where did my tissue box go?" Jimmy demanded, lifting up the novel off the end table as if he'd find a whole box of tissues hiding underneath it.

He texted his housemate—who was out with some friends—while he searched. You didn't happen to move my tissue box before you left, did you?

He doubted it. If Scott moved things in the house, he usually told Jimmy about it or asked if something was okay to be moved. But Jimmy always kept a box of tissues on this side table. They liked watching movies and Jimmy was a crier in a lot of them. So he kept the tissues next to where he sat on the sofa.

Except it was missing.

He scoured the living room, checking behind the sofa's throw pillows and underneath the sofa as if there was room in any of those places for a full tissue box to hide.

Nothing.

Jimmy stood with his hands on his hips in the middle of the room and looked around, confused and frustrated.

He stomped to the bathroom and grabbed a tissue from the other box to finally blow his nose in the hopes that his stupid springtime allergies would give him a rest.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Scott: No... I haven't touched it. Why?

Jimmy replied quickly, It's just not there. I must have moved it and forgotten I did, I guess. Or maybe Norman snatched it

He didn't actually believe he forgot he moved it, but he didn't want Scott to get worried or irritated at him for losing something so silly.

He huffed in frustration, threw away the used tissue in the bathroom bin, and went to go check Norman's usual haunts (cat tree, litter box, bed, the back of Jimmy's closet) to see if there was a shredded tissue box at any of them.

There weren't. Jimmy huffed. He went back out to the living room to go back to spring cleaning. His mother had taught him, many years ago, how to oil the wood of the side tables once a year to keep them nice. In his old, worn out football uniform that was so tattered he only ever wore it to paint or clean these days.

As he sat next to the end table with his oily old washcloth—he'd been using the same rag with furniture oil that never got out for a few years, keeping it in a plastic bag in the back of the cleaning cupboard—he caught sight of the living room vent.

The slats were covered in dust.

He bent back and snatched up the duster from where he'd left it on the back of the loveseat. Then leaned closer to the vent.

He blew hard to get the initial layer of dust off.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you," Jimmy said automatically.

Then froze.

"Hello?" he called. "Is someone there?"

Silence.

"Hello?"

"Achoo!"

That was definitely a sneeze.

Followed by a skittering noise that sounded like quick footsteps of some sort of creature.

Inside the vent.

Most wall vents were bolted or screwed to said wall. But this house was so old that it was loosely clipped instead. Jimmy kept meaning to get some bolts and drill some holes but had yet to actually do so.

He popped the cover off and peered in.

There was nothing in there.

Jimmy scrunched his brows and pulled off his glasses. The lenses were a tad dusty but otherwise not terribly dirty. He dug into one ear with his pinky nail. No excessive amount of wax. He looked around. "Norman?"

The jingling of the cat's collar was audible from Jimmy's room.

Jimmy got up and grabbed his phone. He texted Scott.

Running to the store. I think we might have a mouse. Gonna grab some traps.

He got a thumbs-up emoji of acknowledgment from Scott.

He threw on a different outfit quickly and shoved his slip-on sandals onto his feet before heading to his car.

Forty-two minutes later, he made it back.

"—had to go to two different stores to find the humane kind," Jimmy was saying into his phone when he threw open the front door with a bag in his hand. "No, Joel—Joel—you know I don't have the heart for the other kind." He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, don't 'Jimmy, lad' me in that tone! I'm not gonna call the exterminator! That defeats the purpose of getting a humane trap to capture the mouse instead of kill it. This will be fine, I promise." He paused. "Yeah, yeah. You too. Bye." He tossed the phone carelessly onto the sofa and got some bait out of a cupboard to get the mouse traps ready.

—

Jimmy woke to the sound of skittering footsteps. He jolted and looked around his dark bedroom. It was blurry. He patted gently at his bedside table to find his glasses, which he shoved onto his face.

Something metallic creaked. Jimmy's head whipped to look at the vent in his room, between his dresser and his desk.

It was slowly tilting open. Jimmy watched with wide eyes.

A tiny human-shaped figure stepped out from behind the vent, slowly closing it behind themself. A pair of insectoid wings drooped down their back. One of them was bent at an angle Jimmy had to assume was unnatural. In the darkness, they had fire for hair that cast a gentle, soft candlelight glow on the area around them.

He watched the figure tiptoe over to his desk and jump up onto the handle of the bottom drawer with a tiny, quiet grunt. The non-bent wing wiggled. The bent one just twitched. The tiny person kicked their legs and scrambled to get up onto the handle. From there climbing up onto the drawer's ledge. Then the next handle. The next ledge. The next handle, then up onto the top of the desk. Every time, the tiny little person wiggled and kicked their legs to scramble up.

Once on the desk, the little person crept directly to the pencil cup. Jimmy watched them hop up with a flutter of the non-bent wing and snatch a pencil out of the cup. A short one Jimmy had been using to draw.

The little person inspected it and sat down on the desk in a shaft of moonlight, mixing the silvery moonlight with the golden firelight. They pulled something out of their pocket. Jimmy watched as the tiny person stuck their tongue out in concentration and began to carve the pencil. Specifically sheering off a small section of the wood from one side. The little person started muttering under their breath.

"And we do the carve-y carve-y. Make a nice little thin stick. Nice sturdy stick. Hehehehehe." The voice and figure seemed masculine, though with the tiny person's size it was hard to tell.

Jimmy watched as the rest of the pencil wood was broken off. The tiny winged person pulled a short loop of thread out of the pocket of his little red outfit and unwound it to get to the thinner fibers. He started to try to brace the piece of wood against his bent little wing. He winced as he tried to bend the wing back into a straighter position, hissing and baring his teeth like it hurt. He tried again to bend the wing back.

Then he whimpered and Jimmy couldn't stand to just watch anymore.

He sat up. "Can I help?" he asked.

The tiny guy screamed and scrambled—falling off the desk and scattering the bits and pieces he'd had in his hands.

"Whoa!" Jimmy lurched off his bed and managed to catch the little person before he could hit the floor, careful not to close his hand to crush the wings any more than they already were or burn his hand on the fire for hair. Which had gone out for just a moment to reveal normal gold hair beneath it in short waves, though it quickly sparked back up to its prior merrily-burning flame. Though the fire didn't burn around his hair. Rather, his hair became the fire.

Jimmy lifted him close to his face.

"Are you alright?"

The good wing fluttered fast as the little guy screamed again. "Human!" The word was an exclamation of fear as he tried to get to his feet and run away. But he had nowhere else to go on Jimmy's palm.

"Hey, heeey there, little guy. I'm not gonna hurt you," Jimmy said soothingly. "I want to help you."

The tiny person—the word fairy hit Jimmy in the face like a train when he finally put together why he had wings and those pointy ears—was still scrambling to try to get away. He was shorter than Jimmy's hand was long and as he screamed, he showed off little fangs as his good wing fluttered and the bent one twitched. Red dust fell from the movement of the wings, landing on Jimmy's palm.

"Ssshhh! You're gonna wake my housemate," Jimmy hissed. He brought his other hand up as flat as the first so there was more room to stand on. "I'm not trying to hurt you."

"Put me down, put me down, put me down!" the fairy pleaded.

Jimmy slowly lowered him down to the desktop and waited for him to climb off. Then returned the scattered thread, pencil shaving and sharp tiny piece of metal that the fairy had used to cut the pencil from the floor to the desk top. The fairy bundled the pieces up in his arms and looked around wildly for a way down.

"You can call me Jimmy," Jimmy said. "What's your name?"

The fairy regarded him with suspicious eyes. They were as red as his little outfit.

Jimmy took a step back and crouched on the floor so he could be closer to eye-level with the desk, rather than looming over it.

"You can call me T... Tango," the fairy said reluctantly.

"Hello Tango. Are you hurt? Your wing looks bent."

Tango still regarded him with suspicion. The bent wing twitched as the normal one flickered. Scattering more red dust. "I'm trying to fix it," Tango said, the slightest of pouts forming on his mouth as his pointy ears drooped a little. He tightened his grip on the small scraps.

"Can I help you fix it? I can hold the stick in place."

Tango's tiny red eyes narrowed. "No," he said. "I'll do it myself."

"You don't trust humans, do you?"

He took a few steps back over the desk top.

"Okay. I don't have to help. You just seemed to be struggling on your own and I wanted to offer if you needed it." Jimmy bounced a little and moved back a bit. "You're a fairy, right?"

Tango nodded. A tiny little nod, even for someone his size. Almost impossible to see if Jimmy hadn't been searching for a response.

"What happened to your wing?"

Tango glowered into the middle distance as his fire for hair flickered faster. "Stupid cat," he muttered. Almost like he didn't want Jimmy to hear.

Jimmy rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Big fluffy cat? Kinda creamy-grey? Blue collar?"

Tango muttered something else that Jimmy couldn't quite make out.

"I'm sorry. That's my cat. Norman. He must've thought you were a bug. He likes bugs."

Tango mumbled something Jimmy couldn't hear.

"Is there any way I can help you that doesn't involve touching you? Can I get you something to drink? Some water? Or some milk?" Jimmy had heard a few stories about fairies. They liked gifts of cream or milk, didn't they? Jimmy and Scott didn't really keep cream in the house but...

Tango's normal wing perked up completely at the suggestion. "Milk?" A tiny smile seemed to be trying to form.

"Yeah. Can I get you some?"

Tango nodded. His fire hair grew a little brighter. "Yes please!"

Jimmy smiled. "Let me go get some. Don't go anywhere." He got up and tiptoed off to the kitchen.

—

Tango plopped back down onto the desk top, sitting and trying to re-fit the little stick and the threads to splint his wing. Maybe he should've asked for Impulse's help after all. Maybe if he wasn't so stubborn—he could have clenched Zed and Skizz's hands while Impulse realigned his wing. But no. He had to get caught by a human in the middle of the night. Idiot. Stupid Tango.

He put his knife back in its sheath in his pocket and pouted. This was going to hurt.

But a bit of milk... that would be quite the treat. A nice little reward for resetting his wing.

He quickly set up the splint and got it ready to brace against the ridge of his wing and tighten the threads. His small hands moved quickly. He ignored the fairy dust that fell from his wing, shaking some off his hand.

He bit down on a piece of wood that had come off the long pencil he'd carved the splint from. Humans would call it a shaving. But it was a perfect size for Tango to bite down on while he realigned his own wing. He'd balked before and he got caught by a human because of it. He couldn't allow that to happen this time.

Carefully, he positioned his hands on the ridge of his wing. His fire hair simmered low.

He couldn't count himself down and reset the wing on the wrong number to avoid tensing up. That wouldn't work when he was aware that he intended to do it.

So he just jerked his wing back into place.

He bit through the shaving with his fangs and his hair flared bright and hot as he screamed.

Quickly, he tightened the threads to splint the wing. Only once that was accomplished did he finally relax. Slumping to lie facedown on the human desk, all his limbs splayed out and the tears of pain mingling with the fallen fairy dust. Making it into a red paste.

The human—Jimmy—burst back into the room, trying to be quiet but there was a wild glint in his eyes behind his spectacles. Tango's head snapped up to look. "Are you okay?" Jimmy whispered loudly.

Tango nodded. "I'm fine." He twisted to look at his wing. The ridge was still a little wonky, but it would straighten out in time as it healed. "Just... Had to reset my wing." He shrugged, his good wing fluttering with the movement, though the bad one could still do no more than twitch.

Jimmy stepped over and placed what appeared to be the lid of some sort of small bottle on the desk beside Tango before crouching to be at eye-level. Or as close as a human could get, anyway. "We don't, er, have any cups meant for someone your size. I hope this is okay."

The lid was the same width and depth as a soup pot back home. Though it wasn't completely full of milk, it still had quite a bit in it. More than Tango thought he might be able to drink on his own. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. He loved milk. Most fairies did. "Oh this should be just fine!" He reached for it and took it up in both hands. The lid's white plastic was lighter than the metal pot Skizz and Gem used to make soup. Easier to lift to drink.

Tango surprised himself by drinking it all. Fairly quickly. He must have really needed the sweetness after fixing up his wing. He shuddered all the way down to the tip of his good wing after wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"That was delicious! Thank you!"

Jimmy smiled. "You're welcome."

Tango's wings flittered as some sort of vibration hit them. He gasped and ran across the desk, diving behind the pencil cup to hide. He sucked in a deep breath and his fire hair went out, turning back into normal hair. Hiding the light just like he'd done in the vent earlier when he'd borrowed the tissue box to try and make a cast for his wing.

The door to the room creaked back open. "Jimmy?" another voice asked, with a different accent, around a yawn. "Who're you talking to?"

Jimmy had stood up when Tango moved. Tango couldn't see what either human was doing. Just listening and feeling the disturbances in the air to stay hidden. "I'm not talking to anyone," Jimmy said. Maybe too quickly.

"I heard voices. I thought I heard screaming. Like. Really quiet screams."

"Oh! Sorry. I was watching a movie on my phone. I thought I had the volume down enough. Earbuds were irritating my ears."

"You were asleep hours ago. I heard you snoring."

"Yeah... then I woke up. Had a messy, stressful dream. Woke up. Turned on a movie to try to quiet my mind. Got a bit of milk to try and sleep."

There was a long pause between Jimmy and whoever the housemate with the different accent was. Tango did his best to keep his shivering wing as still as possible so it didn't chime with magic like fairy wings often did. He crouched low, feeling his bad wing slide soundlessly over the somewhat bumpy woodgrain of the desk that the human would think was incredibly smooth.

"You're sure you're okay?" the housemate asked.

"Yeah. Scott, I'm fine. I promise."

Another silence stretched out.

"Okaaay," the housemate—Scott—said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," Jimmy replied.

The door creaked. The heavy footsteps of a human retreated. Another door creaked.

The human house fell silent.

Jimmy was standing carefully positioned in front of the desk to hide the mangled pencil from the door.

"I should go," Tango whispered. He went over to the drawers he'd climbed up to get up onto the desk in the first place as his hair sparked back into fire. He sat on the edge of the desk and started to reach out with his tiptoes to reach the ledge of the drawer, holding onto the edges of the desk for stability.

"Can I help you down, at least?" Jimmy whispered, crouching again. Holding out a flat hand toward Tango.

Who shrunk away. Jimmy twitched back just a bit.

"Or I don't have to. Just don't want to risk you falling and hurting your wings."

Tango kicked his legs. "Promise you'll just set me on the floor?"

"Of course. I promise."

Jimmy wouldn't feel it—but Tango could. A twist in the fabric of the world that came with making a promise to a fairy. Magic. If Jimmy broke that promise, he would be left to the mercy of the Fae.

Carefully, Tango extended one bare foot toward Jimmy's waiting hand. Jimmy moved it closer and let Tango slide onto it. He stayed low so he wouldn't lose his balance and fall.

Jimmy moved his hand down slowly. "Is that how you got into the house? Through the vents?"

"Mmhmm. Lots of lovely little tubes and tunnels with these nice little ventificators to move around in." Tango wiggled playfully, and Jimmy smiled. He had a nice smile. Tango decided he liked it. Humans had such small canine teeth, compared to a fairy's fangs proportionally.

Jimmy hesitated before lowering his hand all the way to the ground. "Will you come back?" he asked. Tango's good wing began to bristle as the magic did. "I, er... I'd like to see you again."

"I gotta return your tissue box. It didn't work to help my wing. So... yeah. I'll come back. Just... don't try to catch me in a jar."

"No, I would never. I promise," Jimmy said.

Another twist of magic stretched between the two of them.

"Be careful making more than surface-level promises to fairies, Jimmy. Your folklore exists for a reason," Tango said, hopping the final distance off Jimmy's palm and onto the floor. That first twist of magic eased and disappeared. He stumbled a bit through the thick carpet and pried open the vent. "Sleep well."

Dodging into the unnaturally rectangular ductwork, Tango skittered out of the house, his way lit by his hair.

—

"Where have you been?!" a voice demanded. Tango squawked in surprise and whirled to see Skizz storming over, all seven inches of him, his dark blue wings fluttering fast behind him, buzzing and chiming with power.

Tango curled in on himself. "Just, y'know, out and about."

Skizz's thunderous expression didn't ease. He reached around Tango and grabbed at his good wing, pulling it up. The bad wing lifted slightly in tandem. "And what is that?!"

"A splint. To heal it."

"Tango!" Skizz exclaimed. "You can't go running around human areas by yourself!"

"What about humans?" another voice asked as Impulse poked his head out of his hole in the tree's hollow trunk. His black moth wings with their yellow eyes swept back and forth slower than Skizz's more traditional fairy wings.

"Tango was sneaking around human territory!" Skizz snapped.

"No, I was fine! I was safe!" Tango protested. "I just needed something sturdier and straighter than a normal twig to splint my wing!"

Impulse didn't look convinced either. "Tango, you know how dangerous humans are. Lizzie got too close and she was never heard from again. She disappeared."

"I know. I wasn't—look. I just have to return something I borrowed and then I'll never go back, okay? I just needed something to help me fix my wing. I have it now. And once I return what I borrowed, I'm done."

Lizzie had vanished years ago and no one else had turned up missing since. Tango didn't understand why the whole court was still so scared of getting too close to humans. Sure, humans were enormous and physically stronger than any fairy could ever hope to be, by the nature of their size, but fairies were the dangerous ones. Humans didn't have magic. They couldn't. Their blood simply couldn't conduct it the way a fairy's could. Fairies were the ones that held the true power over humans. Sure some humans were bad and there would always be stories of fairies getting their wings ripped off—but most of them were relatively harmless.

Skizz's grip tightened on Tango's shoulder. "Make sure you are."

—

Tango returned to the human house the next night, dragging the tissue box through the ductwork. For a human it probably weighed next to nothing. But it was no small feat for a fairy to drag it all the way through from the exhaust vent outside to the one in Jimmy's room. The weight wasn’t the problem so much as the size. It was unwieldy compared to Tango’s height. And while it was fairly heavy, he could still drag it.

He peered through the slats in the vent to confirm he was, in fact, in the vent that led to Jimmy’s room. He recognized the bed and the rest from the night before. Slowly, carefully, he pushed open the vent. The metal creaked.

The bedcovers rustled and Jimmy sat up, putting his spectacles on. Cub needed spectacles too.

“You’re back,” he whispered with a delighted smile.

Tango nodded and began to drag the tissue box out of the vent. “I told you I needed to return the tissue box,” he said.

“How’s your wing?” Jimmy got out of bed and tiptoed over to the vent, pulling it open more and pulling the tissue box out with one easy, effortless movement.

Tango shrugged. His good wing fluttered and the bad one twitched. "Doesn't hurt as bad now that it's got the brace-ificator."

"That's good." Jimmy bent down and offered a flat palm to Tango.

Who just stared at it for a few moments. "I have to walk everywhere. I can't fly," Tango pointed out, his eyes slowly traveling up Jimmy's muscular arm to meet his eyes. Which where warm brown in the firelight of Tango's hair. "That's not fun for a fairy."

"Sorry," Jimmy said sympathetically.

"It's fine. It'll heal soon enough." Tango hopped up onto Jimmy's palm and sat cross-legged in the center of it. Jimmy lifted him up to be almost eye-level. "Fairies tend to heal quickly."

"That's good, at least."

Tango nodded.

"Can you... can you stay? For a little bit? I just—gosh, I have so many questions! I didn't know fairies were real."

Tango fidgeted. The longer he was away from the tree, the more his family would think he'd been caught. And sure, technically, he had. He'd been seen. But he hadn't been trapped. And he didn't need the whole court swarming to try and save him. He took a deep breath. "I can stay for a bit," he said. "But not too long. And I might not be able to answer all your questions."

"That's fine, that's fine," Jimmy said with a nod.

Tango's ears flicked as his good wing wiggled. "What's your first question?"

"How do you hide from humans?"

Tango snickered. "Well. I don't mean to alarm you, but we're pretty small," he said, smiling. Jimmy smiled back and Tango's tiny heart thudded faster. "We're not too small to see, obviously. But being small helps us hide."

"Do you, like, have magic?"

Tango's gaze flicked up to where he could almost see the flames of his hair. "What do you think?"

"Does that help you hide?"

"The fire doesn't but the magic does."

"And the fire comes from the magic, right? I saw your hair turn back into hair and then into fire."

Tango nodded. "Yep! I'm a fire fairy!"

"Oh, I definitely couldn't've guessed that," Jimmy said, voice colored by playful sarcasm.

Tango giggled.

Something in the house creaked and Jimmy went utterly still, holding Tango closer to his chest and looking toward the door. Tango's good wing flitted and then rested. "Housemate?" he whispered.

Jimmy listened for a few long seconds. "I think it's just the house settling," he whispered back.

Tango nodded.

Jimmy perked up. "Oh. Come with me into the kitchen." Still carrying Tango on his palm but moving slow to not cause too much motion, he climbed out of bed and held his hand up to his opposite shoulder. "Care to hop over there? Might be easier."

Tango looked at where Jimmy's collarbone—exposed by the loose sleeveless shirt he had on—made a hollow below his shoulder.

Fluttering his good wing, Tango stepped onto the collarbone and braced his feet there to sit on Jimmy's shoulder, holding onto the edge of the sleeveless shirt.

Jimmy walked slowly to the kitchen. Creeping through the house. "How long can you stay tonight?" he whispered.

Tango shrugged. "Not too long. I need to get home."

"Will you come back?"

Tango didn't answer immediately. Jimmy was opening the fridge. He pulled out a large jug of milk.

"Here. I went to the shops today and bought these. They're meant for a little girl's dolls but I thought it might be a good size for you." He opened a drawer and pulled out a tiny plastic cup that he set on the counter. Blue and clear. Next to the cup in the drawer was some sort of dropper. That he stuck in the milk and squeezed the bulbous top. When he released the pressure, it sucked milk up the tube, which he then used to fill the little cup. "I think this was supposed to be used for medicine but we've never opened it from the plastic before," Jimmy added, indicating the dropper.

The cup was still a little too big for Tango, but after the lid the night before, Tango knew he could more than handle the cup. Jimmy held a hand out and let Tango hop onto it and lowered him down to the counter.

"I... might be able to come back," Tango said. "But it won't be easy. Fairies are supposed to hide from humans. My family will get mad if they know I got seen."

"Well, I certainly won't tell them."

"I know." Tango took a big drink of the milk. "That would require you seeing them and no one gets this close to humans besides me."

"Why?"

"I'm curious and they're scared. We lost a fairy who got too close to humans years ago. Never heard from her again. But I can't just... quit." Tango's bad wing twitched. "Even when stupid cats get me."

"Mm... you might be a little bit reckless."

Tango laughed, trying to stay quiet, as his wings tried to flutter in tandem. "You... are singing to the wind there, skippy," he said.

"I'm what?"

"Y'know. Telling me something I already know."

"O-oh."

“Is that not a human phrase?”

“Er… I don’t think so.”

Tango hummed in thought and took another sip of milk. "Any other questions?"

"Yeah—what did you mean last night when you told me to be careful and folklore exists for a reason?"

"Did you do any reading on Fae?"

"Er..."

"It's dangerous for a human to break a promise to any fairy. Just like it's dangerous to give one your name."

"I think I've heard of that."

"I'd hope you had."

"What about fairy rings? The mushrooms in the woods?"

"Be careful of them. Humans don't often survive well in Avalon. And if they do come back, they're forever changed."

"So it exists?!" Jimmy hissed.

"Of course. That's where we're born." Tango sipped his milk. "That's where we'll go when winter comes back. We're only living on the human plane because spring and summer here are delightful." His wings tried to flutter.

"What's it like to fly?"

Tango looked up at Jimmy. A small smile formed on his face. "There's nothing like it."

—

After doing his best to wash the Barbie doll cup and dropper, Jimmy hid them away and took Tango back to his bedroom. "I should probably go now," Tango said quietly. "I don't want to risk my family noticing I'm gone."

Jimmy nodded. "I get it."

Tango hopped into Jimmy's hand and let Jimmy lower him to the floor. He slipped nimbly into the vent.

"I hope to see you again," Jimmy said.

Tango's wings flickered and twitched. "I'll try to come back. No promises, though."

"I understand."

Tango pulled the vent shut. His footsteps were quiet in the ductwork and faded fast.

Jimmy pivoted and flopped onto his bed, climbing under the covers.

Sleep claimed him quickly and before he knew it, morning light was streaming through his bedroom window. He could hear Scott whistling in the kitchen, bustling about making himself some breakfast.

Slowly, Jimmy clambered out of bed and went out to the kitchen. Scott was standing in front of the stove with a frying pan on it, whistling as he cooked what smelled and looked like hash browns. He was in an Extravagant Breakfast mood, then. Not surprising for a Saturday.

Jimmy, making no move to be quiet and letting his footsteps make the floorboards creak, approached from behind and planted his face on the topmost curve of Scott's spine, groaning in complaint into the loose fabric of Scott's T-shirt. He and Scott had been close friends for years and knew he wouldn't mind Jimmy planting his face in his back to complain. Something Jimmy could really only do with Scott—Scott was one of very few people who was taller than Jimmy. That group also included Etho, next-door.

"Bad night again?" Scott asked.

"Yeah."

"Sorry." Scott turned off the stove and turned to wrap a comforting arm around Jimmy's shoulders. "Should we try getting you some sort of sleep aid?"

Jimmy took a deep breath and huffed a sigh. "No... not yet, anyway. If it persists, maybe." He wasn't sure how to explain that his lack of sleep was self-inflicted.

Scott pinched his chin in order to examine his face, tilting it around. "What's been keeping you up?"

Jimmy shrugged. "It's more like I've been waking up in the middle of the night and then struggling to get back to sleep."

"I'm sorry, Jimmy. You can always wake me if you need to."

Jimmy shook his head as best he could with his chin still pinched. "No. No reason for us both to be tired. I'd hate to make you share my suffering for no reason."

Scott sighed, affectionate and exasperated. "Helping you isn't suffering."

"Lack of sleep is."

Scott tutted. "How about this, if you're struggling to get back to sleep and you think it'll help, come crash with me. Just climb in and wake me up and I'll help you get back to sleep."

Jimmy was quiet for a few moments. "We'll see," he said.

"I have a good idea to tucker you out tonight."

"Do tell."

"Joel and Grian called this morning. Well. Grian called this morning on his and Joel's behalf."

"Mm."

"Ultimate Frisbee. They want to go to the park and play tonight."

Jimmy perked up. "Really?" A smile formed on his face. He blinked, trying to force his eyes to focus. He forgot to put his glasses on. Scott nodded. He wouldn't call himself an athlete compared to Jimmy, probably, but neither would Grian and Joel. Joel used to be an athlete before he'd wrecked his knee when they were kids. Now, they all just liked to all be bad at sports together. Messing around more than actually playing.

"Yeah."

"Did you tell them we're in?"

"I told them you would be in and that I'd think about it."

"I'll text them. Are Lizzie and Mumbo joining?"

"I think so. And I think they were considering extending the offer to Martyn and Pearl."

"Awesome!" Jimmy felt himself smiling, his fatigue forgotten. "We're gettin' the whole gang together!"

"Well. Enough for a four-on-four, anyway," Scott remarked.

Jimmy beamed. "Sounds fun."

—

In Jimmy's experience, getting eight adults together to hang out was nearly impossible. How Grian and Joel managed it, he had no idea. But he wasn't going to complain. He had all his friends from school in a park and they were playing Frisbee. What more could he ask for?

"Martyn, pass it!" Jimmy called, running and clapping to show he was ready to catch. Grian was tailing him hard, but Grian's legs were significantly shorter and Jimmy was quickly outpacing him.

Martyn was currently trying to throw it around a frantically-trying-to-intercept Pearl, waving her arms through the air.

"Timmy, go long!" Martyn shouted, hurling it as hard as he could at an angle.

Jimmy pivoted and took off. Laughing as Grian shouted in protest behind him that his long stride wasn't fair.

—

Tango lingered in the canopy, hiding amongst the leaves. Watching the humans play a game with a flying disc of some sort. Jimmy he recognized—though he hadn't been expecting to see him here. But he didn't know any of the others. Which he did expect.

Jimmy wasn't wearing his spectacles. Tango wondered if he could see okay.

He was playing with seven other humans. Two with long hair and feminine frames, five with shorter hair and more masculine frames. All of them seemed to be having a good time.

One of the feminine frame humans went running. She had long pink hair pulled back in a pair of pigtail braids.

One of the human men caught her around the waist. He had curly dark brown hair with a bit of green in his bangs. "I got her, Jim! Throw it!"

The woman squealed and laughed, kicking and writhing, smiling wide. "Joel!" she protested. "Let me go!"

Tango's entire body went rigid.

He knew that laugh.

He knew that smile.

He knew that voice.

"Lizzie?" he whispered.

His body kicked into motion all at once. He leapt for the next tree over and caught a branch, scrambling up onto it. He ran across it to the next branch, getting closer and closer to the big open field the humans were playing on at the edge of the woods. Trying to get a better, fuller view of the area. He cursed his stupid wing for not being able to fly. To move faster.

When he finally got to a clump of leaves he could hide in while still watching the humans, he slowed down to pant and then peek.

The woman had rounded ears. She was human-sized. She was wearing human clothes. The roots of her hair appeared to be a light brown, making the pink fake.

But, no doubt about it, that was Lizzie.

She was alive.

Tango reached for his magic and plucked at it, sending the vibration of it across the field to Lizzie—only to feel it dissipate before it could touch her.

She had no magic anymore. Nothing to resonate with his bid for connection. No way to reach back.

She wrenched out of Joel's grip and went running after that flying disc.

Tango grabbed at his magic again. But instead of gently directing it toward Lizzie, he formed it into a spear of words and hurled it in her direction.

She stumbled while trying to catch the disc and went completely rigid.

Lizzie, is that you?! It's Tango. Do you remember me? How are you human?

Her eyes—big and blue and oh-so-familiar—scanned the trees. Sweat clung to her brow, plastering a few pink strands of hair to her face. She panted.

Joel slowed to a stop beside her. "Love? You alright?" he asked, setting a hand on her lower back. Tango realized they were wearing colorful rings on matching fingers. Lizzie's was pink with flowers carved into it. Joel's was green with leaves carved into it. He glanced toward the trees she was peering at. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," she replied. "Just tired."

Her eyes found Tango's and locked on.

"I'm gonna take a bit of a breather," she declared, straightening up and marching toward the trees. She sat at the base of the trunk of the tree Tango's branch was part of and leaned back. She waited for her human friends to stop looking at her and then knocked twice on the trunk, pulling her braids from her back to drape down her chest. Her gaze searched the canopy for Tango.

He was already running down the branch for the trunk, using the chunky bark to climb down, hiding away from the humans until he hit the grass and circled it.

Lizzie's hand was waiting in the grass for him, her body turned away from her friends to hide him.

Tango jumped onto her palm. "You're alive?" he hissed quietly.

"Ssshhh!" she whispered, bringing her hand up to her lap, body still angled to block him from sight of the other humans. "Tango, please—you can't tell the court!"

"What?! Why not?!"

"Because they'd never understand."

"Lizzie, we thought you were dead!" Tango whispered.

"I know. Well, I figured, anyway."

Tango's bad wing tried desperately to flutter in tandem with his good one. But the splint and the pain stopped it. "Lizzie—why did you—how could you leave us like that?" He grabbed onto her finger with his whole hand where he was kneeling on her palm.

She twisted, a fond expression on her face, as she watched Joel and a shorter man in a red knit sweater argue and bicker about something. "I love him, Tango," she said quietly.

Tango's heart thudded in his chest. "How could you leave us though? Your family? How did you... how did you become..." He looked her up and down. "One of them?" He didn't mean to sound disgusted, but his disbelief clouded his tone and might have come across that way.

"Magic."

"Obviously. But what kind of—"

"Lizzie? Everything alright?" Joel called.

"Fine, babe!" Lizzie shouted over her shoulder. She whipped back to look at Tango. "Listen—please don't tell the rest of the court. I don't—Skizz would lose his mind and I can't do that to Gem and the others. It's better if they think I disappeared. Please, Tango." The desperate pleading in her eyes made Tango's heart twist.

"N... no it's not," he whispered.

"Tango. I married a human. I can't go back to being a fairy even if I wanted to. Not anymore. And I don't want to anyway." She put the barest tip of her finger under his chin. "Tango, please. Promise me you won't tell the court."

Tango blinked up at her in disbelief. "You know I can't do that," he replied. "Fairies never make promises."

She sighed. "I know. But... please?"

Tango sat in silence for several long moments, listening for any other humans approaching.

"You... you loved him enough to give up your life and your court and your magic to be with him?" Tango's voice had gone small. "To be human?"

Lizzie nodded.

Tango took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay. I won't tell anyone."

She sagged a little. "Thank you."

His red gaze hardened. "But you should."

Not waiting for her response, he hopped off her hand and slid down her leg into the grass. His good wing flickered irritably.

He leapt up onto the trunk of the tree and climbed until he was up in the canopy's branches, catching glimpses of Lizzie's pink hair through the leaves.

"Lizzie?" Joel called.

"Coming!" Lizzie shouted back. She picked herself to her feet and ran toward him, kissing his cheek. He smiled softly at her. Fondly. Affectionately.

Tango's heart twisted. He wasn't sure whether to be happy for her or sad that the court lost her forever.

"Whoa—WHOA!" a familiar voice shouted. Jimmy tripped and spilled onto the ground, rolling over in the grass as the smaller human man in the red sweater dogpiled on top of him, cackling. Another tall man (this one with blue hair and dark brown roots showing it was fake like Lizzie's pink) draped himself over Jimmy's legs and the tall, willowy, brunette woman flopped over all of them. They were all laughing—even Jimmy as he shouted for them to get off of him. Despite the conflict tumbling around in Tango's heart, he couldn't help but smile.

It seemed humans and fairies weren't that much different when it came to friends.

—

Two weeks passed before Jimmy saw Tango again. He wasn't woken in the night by the vent cover creaking open. Nothing else went missing. Norman wasn't on alert. Jimmy was starting to convince himself that he wasn't going to see Tango ever again. And that would be fine. Tango said it would be difficult to get away and not make his family suspicious. Jimmy was disappointed—he found Tango fun and friendly and he enjoyed spending time with him—but he didn't want Tango to risk his own safety.

But Jimmy found himself leaving the Barbie cup with some water in it next to the vent on nights when Norman slept out on his cat tree in the living room instead of at the foot of Jimmy's bed. Just in case.

He was roused from his sleep by something irritating his nose. He twitched it and sucked in a deep breath, peeling his eyes open.

Tango was leaning sideways, his head tilted, to try to be parallel to Jimmy, his hair normal rather than burning so he wouldn't light the pillowcase on fire. He was holding onto Jimmy's nose and squishing it back and forth. "Jimmy! Jim-my!" he stage-whispered in time to the squishing of Jimmy's nose.

Jimmy jolted backward as clarity snapped to attention in his brain. "Whoa!" he hissed. "Tango! What're you...?"

Tango beamed and bounced on the pillow like a kid jumping on the couch. "I finally got to come visit!" Both of his wings flicked. The bad one was still splinted, but the splint wasn't as long, like it could move again but hadn't yet regained full mobility. "How have you been?" he asked quietly.

Jimmy rubbed his face and patted around his bedside table for his glasses. "Er... I've been alright. Just going through life, y'know?" He pushed his glasses onto his face.

Tango straightened up properly and his hair sparked back to life, burning merrily. "I guess," he said. "Human lives seem so boring. You just, like, clean things and go to work."

"Well what do you do?" Jimmy asked. "Do fairies not have jobs?"

"Pfft. No. Why would we need jobs? We gather our own livelihoods and we share when we don't have enough and someone else has excess. We dance and we play and we enjoy the world and her natural beauty as she gives it to us."

"Sounds nice."

Tango grinned. "It is!"

Jimmy grunted as he sat up properly. He offered a hand to Tango. Who hopped up onto his palm and knelt. Jimmy lifted him to his shoulder and Tango moved to perch there instead. "Did you see the cup I left next to the vent?"

"I did! Thank you. It was very much appreciated." Tango wiggled and smiled happily.

Jimmy got out of bed, Tango clinging to his tank top's collar to stay steady. "Want some milk?"

"I'd love some!"

"Let's go then." Jimmy went to the vent and picked up the small cup and took it with them out to the kitchen.

Partway there, Tango stood up on Jimmy's shoulder and clung to his ear to stabilize himself. "Guess what?" he whispered directly in Jimmy's ear.

"What?"

"A human fair is in town. And a small court of fairies hides among the fair's equipment when they travel around. Their court and mine are going to have a little party while they're here. I'm so excited."

"Fun," Jimmy said, opening the fridge. "Maybe I'll get my housemate to go with me. Keep an eye out for you."

"Oh, I won't be at the actual fair," Tango said dismissively. "That's too dangerous and my big brother would never let me be around a crowd that big while my wing is still busted. Our party will be in private, silly."

"Right, yeah. 'Course," Jimmy replied. "I knew that."

Tango giggled.

Jimmy lifted a hand and lowered Tango down onto the kitchen counter, where the cup had been filled with milk. Tango picked it up and lifted it in both hands toward Jimmy like a toast. "Cheers!" he chirped before taking a sip. Jimmy smiled. "I saw you playing the game with the throwing disc thing, by the way."

"Oh, did you?" Jimmy asked. "You saw us playing Frisbee?"

Tango nodded and drank more milk. "Mmhmm! It looked like fun."

"It is."

"I saw the smaller red man tackle you."

"Oh, Grian didn't tackle me. I tripped and he took advantage to just fall on top of me. He's a menace. But he's also my older brother and I love him."

Tango was quiet for a moment. "I have an older brother too," he said softly. "He's the main protector of our court. He keeps us safe. He's a good leader." He cleared his throat. "Which one was your housemate again?"

"The really tall one with blue hair."

Tango's chin dipped in a quick nod. "Got it." He looked around Scott and Jimmy's kitchen. Well, mostly Scott's kitchen. Jimmy didn't consider himself handy in the kitchen whatsoever—thankfully Scott preferred cooking for at least two or more.

"What were you doing at the park?" Jimmy asked.

Tango shrugged, his wings flicking a little. "I wasn't at the park: I was in the woods. But I heard humans shouting and got curious."

"Ohhhhh," Jimmy said, nodding sagely.

"My older brother would be really mad if I was actually in the park. Humans are likely to hurt fairies."

"Makes sense."

—

Tango slipped out of the exhaust vent of the house and climbed down the drainpipe. He snuck quietly across the small backyard and ducked through a diamond-shaped hole in the chain-link fence. Putting him solidly in the forest.

He headed back to the court's hollow tree. It was a long walk for a lone fairy and dawn wasn't far off. But he didn't dare reach out with his magic to see if someone was willing to come get him. The rest of the court would tattle to Skizz and Impulse if they knew Tango had snuck out of the tree again to visit a human.

Tango kicked a speck of dirt as he walked along with the sole of his bare foot.

He thought about Jimmy. Who would be quite the catch were he a fairy. He'd probably be a defender, like Skizz and Scar. Big and strong. Fairies didn't have jobs. They had roles. Skizz was the defender and the leader. Tango and Impulse were fixers. Bdubs was a maker. Gem was too, but specialized mostly in textiles. Fern kept the library. Scar and Cub were tricksters on top of being defenders—or semi-defender, in Cub's case. Cub was one of the thinkers. The wickedly smart one who mostly got put in charge of planning.

But Jimmy would probably be a defender, if he was a fairy. Dark blond and dark-eyed with that strong jaw—maybe he'd be another mothwing like Impulse...

No. He'd have a swallowtail butterfly pattern. Like Fern's. Except Jimmy's would be yellow—a tiger swallowtail rather than Fern's spicebush. Despite the fact that Tango almost exclusively saw Jimmy wearing blues and whites, he got the feeling that yellow wings would suit him nicely. A vibrant accent color.

If Jimmy were a fairy, Tango would have snatched him up years ago.

The thought pulled Tango up short. He stopped walking and leaned against a tree trunk. Where had that thought come from? Sure, Jimmy was handsome—but he was also human. Being attracted to him did Tango no favors. It was pointless. It could never be—

Lizzie.

She became human permanently.

Tango shook his head and went back to walking quickly through the woods. Lizzie might be willing to abandon her court, her family, her magic, her wings for the love of a human—but Tango wasn't.

Skizz would probably stop him if he tried even if he wanted to.

Plus, Tango wasn't that great at complicated magic and he couldn't imagine a ritual like that could be anything less than astronomically difficult.

No.

No handsome human for him.

That was fine.

He was almost to the tree when he heard a fairy's wings behind him. He ducked into a bramble, put out the fire in his hair, and looked back. It wasn't forbidden for him to wander the woods at night, but if Skizz was the one who caught him, he'd probably get lectured (again) for being reckless. Out in the dangerous woods alone at night.

Tango wasn't that worried. As a fire fairy with burning hair, most big creatures that could eat him—like owls and foxes—didn't get anywhere near him. Most of those creatures were afraid of fire.

But who else was heading back to the tree just before dawn?

Keeping low and quiet, he saw a familiar figure heading into the hollow knot in the tree that led to the court's homes. Insectoid wings shaped like a traditional fairy's like Tango's and Skizz's. The fairy was wearing a fluffy coat made of moss.

What was Bdubs—the king of hounding the court to get a good night's sleep—doing out and about in the woods in the middle of the night?

Tango watched him land gently and disappear into the hollow trunk before he ran at the trunk himself and leapt into the air, grabbing the bark as high up as he could and climbing it to get inside.

—

"Y'know, I've never had funnel cake before," Scott remarked as they wandered the fair, watching a family walk past with a funnel cake in hand.

Jimmy halted in his tracks, putting a hand on Scott's forearm to stop him too. "Shut up! You haven't?!"

Scott shook his head and brushed his blue curls off his forehead. "Never."

Jimmy squeezed Scott's arm. "We have to remedy that right now," he said, smiling. "C'mon. Let's find a vendor. My treat. We're splitting one—I think we'd both be sick if we tried to eat a full one on our own. And they're better when shared anyway." He smiled, and received a smile in return. His hand slid down Scott's arm to take his wrist and drag him through the fairground to find a place selling funnel cake. "I should warn you: the powdered sugar is messy. But it's so worth it."

Scott laughed. "I trust you," he said. "I don't mind a little sugar."

He pulled Scott along behind him until they found a vendor selling funnel cake and Jimmy dragged them in line. While they waited, he looked around. Trying to catch sight of any fairies sneaking around. Not that he expected to see any of them. But he still kept an eye out.

At one point, Oli and Eloise rushed past, giggling and throwing Jimmy and Scott a brief wave before falling into a line for one of the rides. A rickety-looking roller coaster Jimmy was not getting on, no matter what. The Ferris Wheel looked a little safer but still a bit sus—he was only getting on if Scott asked.

They made it through the line and got a funnel cake. Scott located a picnic table in the shade where they could sit down and try it without worrying about getting bumped into while walking.

Jimmy broke off a piece of the cake. "Wanna try it first or shall I?"

"You go first," Scott said. "You were the more excited."

Jimmy put it in his mouth. Sweet, soft, and slightly crunchy from being fried. He hummed in rapture. "Oh, that's good," he said around his mouthful. He broke off another piece and held it out for Scott. "Try it."

Scott leaned forward and took the piece between his teeth, smiling all the while.

Jimmy's eyes widened just a little. He'd expected Scott to take it from him with his fingers, not his mouth. He wasn't worried Scott would accidentally bite him, just surprised.

Scott chewed thoughtfully, eyes unfocused and nodding as he did so.

He swallowed. "That's delicious," he declared.

"Right?!" Jimmy agreed.

The two of them sat at the picnic table for a while, eating their treat piece by piece, sharing as equally as possible when they both wanted to just devour the whole thing on their own. Jimmy knew if he had that much sugar and oil all at once, he'd probably be sick and Scott agreed, but the taste was almost enough to make the idea worth it.

Partway through, Oli and Eloise collapsed at their same picnic table. "What a rush!" Oli exclaimed.

"That roller coaster doesn't look safe," Jimmy said.

"Didn't feel safe," Eloise agreed. "I could almost feel my brain rattling around in my skull."

"But it was fuuuuun!" Oli drawled.

Jimmy met Scott's eyes. Scott nodded with one small movement. They each broke off a piece of the funnel cake and offered it to their friends. Both turned it down, claiming their stomachs needed a moment to settle before they could try to put anything in it.

Jimmy and Scott didn't complain about getting the whole thing to themselves, but both of them would have felt remiss had they not at least offered to share with their friends.

They were just polishing off the last little bit when a shadow fell over them. "Well, well, well! Look who we found!" a voice said. Jimmy looked up.

"Etho! How are ya, man?" he asked. "I'd hug you or shake your hand, but..." He looked at the veritable mess the funnel cake had left behind. Etho just chuckled, one arm around his partner—a somewhat short guy with fluffy, curly black hair who was somehow braving the heat of a summer evening in a green jacket that appeared to be made of moss. He was holding a large bear plushie that was eye-achingly vibrant magenta.

"It's all good," Etho said. "We're fine, aren't we, Bdubs?"

"Uh-huh!" Bdubs nodded enthusiastically.

"Enjoying the fair?" Etho asked the four sitting at the picnic table, the corners of his eyes crinkled to show he was smiling behind his face mask.

"Yep!" Oli chirped.

"Lot of fun," Scott agreed. "Just tried funnel cake for the first time."

Bdubs perked up. "Funnel cake?" He spun to look at Etho, pressing his front to his side and wrapping both arms around him. "Can we get some, please, please, please, please, please!"

Etho gave Scott a playfully-chiding look. "Look what you've done." But he rested his chin in Bdubs' curls. "Yeeeaaahhh, I guess. Let's go find some."

"The nearest stall is right over there," Jimmy said, pointing toward the one they'd got theirs from.

"Thanks," Etho said as Bdubs began talking loudly and dragging Etho in the vendor's direction. Etho was smiling.

"I take it you know them?" Oli asked.

"Next-door neighbor," Jimmy said. "And his partner. Who I don't know as well but seems nice."

"Aaahhh, I see," Oli said in a goofy voice like he was a Film Noir detective.

"Look at that sunset," Eloise said quietly. Everyone turned to see the sun dipping toward the horizon, turning orange and painting the sky and its clouds golds, oranges, pinks, and almost reds.

"Ferris Wheel?" Oli said to Eloise.

"Ferris Wheel," she agreed. They got up and went to go get in line with a brief goodbye.

"Should we, too?" Scott asked. "Take some pictures?"

Jimmy smiled. "Sounds fun!"

They dusted themselves off—the powdered sugar got everywhere—cleaned their hands of the remnants of the funnel cake, threw away their trash, and went to follow their friends.

They got on right as the sun was touching the horizon, pausing every few degrees to let others board as well. It was an old, more traditional Ferris Wheel with benches big enough for two people, rather than a huge one with dangling baskets for six or more.

That suited them just fine.

Scott had his phone out, taking pictures of the sunset. He turned his camera toward Jimmy. "Smile," he said.

Jimmy did. Scott's camera shuttered.

"Ooh. That's a new profile pic right there," Scott said, showing the results to Jimmy. In the light of the setting sun, his early tan was bronzed and his hair had glints of gold. The whole picture was warm and glowy.

"Yeah—please send that to me."

"'Course," Scott said. But he switched his phone to selfie mode. "Bring it in, first." He leaned close. Jimmy leaned to match.

Scott took a couple selfies of the two of them. Including one where they turned around to let the half-sun silhouette them. Jimmy smiled and laughed.

When the pictures were done and Scott's phone tucked back in his pocket, he rested his head on Jimmy's shoulder. "Thanks for this," he said softly. "Thanks for telling me the fair was in town. It's been a long time since we did something just... out-of-the-norm."

Jimmy nodded. "Welcome. Happy to be here, having fun."

Scott hummed agreement as they watched the sunset continue to deepen. The highest points of the sky were already inky with stars poking out. The rising moon was bright opposite the sky from the sun. Jimmy took a deep breath and sighed, content and happy—and wondering where Tango was and whether he was having a good time.

—

"Sun's down! Time to paaaaarrrrrtyyyyy!" Zed exclaimed, falling off the mushroom of the fairy ring and catching himself with his pink-and-yellow wings. The fairies cheered. Someone broke out the wine, its distinct scent filling the air. Tango smiled, his wings wiggling. He still couldn’t fly, but at least he could move his bad wing just a bit.

The music started, and so too did the dancing. Tango was the only fairy stuck on the ground, but by Oberon that wasn't going to stop his friends from making him dance with them. Gem, Impulse, Skizz, and Zed all got their hands on him and lifted him into the air.

He laughed as his friends hauled him around through the sky, singing and dancing along to the music. At some point, someone shoved a hollowed-out seed full of wine into his hand.

Never one to avoid a bad time, Tango drank down the whole thing. There was nothing quite as delicious as fairy wine. It always left him feeling sparkly. His wings chimed as they fluttered, but his right one still couldn't hold him up. Gem laughed where she was mostly behind him. "Tango, that tickles!" Green fairy dust drifted down from her orange monarch butterfly wings, mingling with the pink-and-gold dust from Zed's.

He glanced around. Bdubs wasn't here. He'd claimed exhaustion and had gone to his room last night and hadn't emerged since. Fern was sitting on a mushroom, a seed in her hand that she'd probably only had a single sip of, talking to one of the fairies that had been traveling with the human fair. The fairy was taller than even Skizz with reddish, mechanical wings, curled horns, and green skin. An uncommon type of fairy, but not unheard of. The horns and skin, at least. The mechanical wings were almost unheard of. Fern's expression was one of sorrow as she talked to him.

But other than that, both courts seemed to be having the time of their lives. A Fae Revelry was a party like nothing mortals could even hold a candle to.

Tango took the next seed full of wine that had been handed to him and downed it too.

He wasn't going to remember most of this party in the morning, probably.

He was fine with that.

He let himself get lost in the moments and the wine as it went straight to his head. He danced with his friends and ate whatever food had been provided by the fair's court, enjoying his court's specialty wine with abandon. Fairies partied a lot, but it had been a while since they had a second court to enjoy partying with. The other court seemed to think the same because they were matching the same level of overdoing it that Tango's court was doing.

At some point he found himself back on the ground, holding both of Fern's hands as they jumped in circles. Gem's appeared at some point but left after a bit. Scar crashed into them both with Cub right behind. "Watch the wing, watch the wing, watch the wing!" Tango exclaimed as he crashed into the grass. Thankfully, both his wings were unharmed as he hit on his side.

He heard himself laughing, but he wasn't really fully present in his own mind. Addled by the wine and the food and the music.

He hoped, distantly, that Jimmy was having a good time.

—

Tango woke up in the lawn behind Jimmy's house, half-hidden by a flower bush. He'd heard of the concept of a hangover before but fairies didn't get them, so he was just tired.

He pushed himself upright and looked around. He had no idea how he got here. He had vague memories of Skizz and Impulse lugging him back to the tree, suspended between them as they flew. But at what point in the night had he stumbled through the woods to get here? Why had he come here? He couldn't remember. Another vague memory of him wanting to tell Jimmy "something important" was lingering just out of reach of his recollection.

A masculine voice on the other side of the fence shouted, "Aurora? Have you seen my trowel?"

Followed by a feminine voice shouting, "Check under the wheelbarrow!"

The shouts jarred Tango out of his thoughts as the neighbors started arguing. Lighthearted and friendly with no real bite to any of the words.

"Don't make me come out there, Etho!" the feminine voice called with a laugh.

Tango peered around, making sure the stupid cat who'd busted his wing wasn't outside and that the neighbors wouldn't see him. Once he confirmed, he took off running for the exhaust vent, leaping into the air and squeezing himself through the gaps to access the ductwork.

He snuck quietly through the ducts until he found the living room. Where he'd borrowed the tissue box from originally. It had been restored to its place, apparently. He could see it through the slats in the vent.

Jimmy was lounging on the sofa, holding one of the glowing rectangles. He'd called it a phone... right? Tango didn't remember. The stupid fluffy cat who'd busted his wing was on Jimmy's lap. Jimmy's free hand was idly petting him. The tomcat's ears twitched in the direction of the vent and his hair started to raise a little. Jimmy noticed.

Tango held his breath and turned his fire hair back into normal hair.

The cat was still bristling.

"What's wrong, Norman?" Jimmy asked, his hand stilling in the cat's fur.

Norman hissed toward the vent.

Tango hissed back, baring his fangs and flaring his wings.

The cat mewled pathetically, looking surprised, and buried his face in Jimmy's shirt.

Jimmy set his phone on the low table by the sofa and rolled off the sofa, landing on his knees on the floor, holding the cat in one arm. "Tango? Is that you?" he asked quietly. His voice sounded tired. He had a button-up shirt on over his sleeping sleeveless shirt.

Tango ignited his fire hair again. "It's me."

"Okay. Be quiet, my housemate's home, but..." Jimmy looked around. His free hand reached up and touched the pocket on the chest of his shirt. He lifted the flap and pulled it open. "Hop in."

Tango dodged out of the vent and creaked it shut before running across the floor, jumping up Jimmy's leg and climbing the loose overshirt before crawling in the pocket and pulling the flap down over the top so no one would be able to see him. The pocket was muffled and a little darker, but it was warm. Right over Jimmy's heart. Which he could feel in the vibrations of the fabric.

Tango couldn't help himself and Jimmy wouldn't see—he snuggled closer to Jimmy's chest. Closing his eyes.

"How was your party?" Jimmy whispered.

"Wild," Tango whispered back with delight and rapture. "How was the fair?"

"It was fun! I had a good time."

"That's good." Tango yawned.

"Tired?"

"I was awake for most of the night."

Jimmy hummed. "Sleep in my pocket. You're safe with me," he said.

"I don't think that's a good—"

"Tango. I promise: I will never hurt you."

Magic twisted between them.

Tango yawned again. "I warned you about making promises to fairies," he pointed out. But he was already burrowing down in the pocket, snuggling close to Jimmy's warm chest and eyelids growing heavy. "'S dangerous."

Jimmy's hand gently cupped his pocket. It was warm. "This one I think I can keep," he said softly.

"I promise not to hurt you either." Tango hummed and rested his head against Jimmy's beating heart. Drifting off.

—

Tango woke up from his unexpected nap disoriented. Where was he? Why was he surrounded by fabric on all sides? What was that rhythmic thumping?

Peeling his eyes open, memories came crashing back. Right. He had taken a nap in the chest pocket of Jimmy's shirt.

That rhythmic thumping was Jimmy's heartbeat.

He shuffled a little.

Jimmy was humming softly. A tune Tango didn't recognize. Occasionally singing some lyrics under his breath. There was quiet clatter accompanying him. "—I keep on hopin' we'll eat cake by the ocean..." Jimmy sang.

Tango managed to get to his feet in Jimmy's pocket and lift the flap covering it just enough to peek through.

Jimmy was cooking. There was a black metal frying pan on a stove and something yellowy in it that he was moving around with a black plastic spatula.

"—lose our minds and go crazy-crazy, ay-yayayayaya—"

"Whatcha makin'?" Tango asked, keeping his voice down in case Scott the housemate was nearby.

Jimmy jolted. "I didn't realize you'd woken up!" he hissed.

"Just now," Tango reassured. He twisted and moved the flap out of the way so he could look up at Jimmy's face. Laid back and relaxed—and really, really handsome. That strong jaw and nose and brow bones framing his face. Tango's heart was going about as fast as a hummingbird's wings and he forced himself to look away. "Whatcha makin'?"

"Eggs," Jimmy said. "I'm not good at making much else, but I can make eggs."

"Where's your housemate?"

"Out in the garden. He has a blood feud with the morning glories going."

"Why?"

"Morning glories twist around other plants and choke them out. They kill the flowers and the hedges and they grow back too fast. I guess. The garden is really more Scott's domain. I let him futz with the flowers and the hedges and I do my best to take care of the inside of the house. Which includes making us both some lunch while he weeds. You can talk normal volume for now. I'll warn you if I see him on his way back in."

Tango shuffled in the pocket a little bit. "Morning glories are good for being able to climb otherwise-unwieldy plant stalks," he said. "Which fairies really only care about when..." He released a long breath. "When their wings are busted." He looked down at the frying pan.

Jimmy reached up a free hand and cupped the pocket comfortingly. His hand was warm through the fabric. "It'll heal, right?"

"Yeah. It has been healing. It'll be fine soon enough. I just hate feeling useless and grounded." Tango rested his chin on his hand that was holding the top of the pocket.

"Is taking it easy not an option?" Jimmy asked.

"I get bored."

"Ohhh..." Jimmy's body rocked like he was nodding in understanding. "I get it."

Tango looked out the window nearby. The sun was past its zenith. Afternoon. "I need to get home before my court freaks out about where I've been," he said, starting to pull down the top of the pocket and push the covering flap up. "I've been gone too long already."

Jimmy turned off the stove. "Okay. I'm sorry to see you go. But I understand. Can I get you anything before you leave? Some water or some milk?"

"I wish I had time for that. But it's a bad idea. I gotta go."

Jimmy sighed. "Be safe." He moved over to the vent Tango had come in through and crouched low, opening his pocket and helping Tango out onto his hand. Which he then lowered to the floor as his other one popped open the vent.

"I will." Tango smiled as he hopped off Jimmy's hand and into the ductwork.

"Will you come back?" Jimmy asked quickly, before Tango could disappear into the ducts. Tango paused, his hair simmering lower, going from yellow to red.

He smiled, though. "I'll try," he said.

Before turning and running into the ducts, his bare feet making soft thunks against the metal.

He made it to the exhaust vent that led outside—and saw the blue-haired housemate bent over a bush, wearing gloves covered in dirt, ripping morning glory roots out of the ground. His back was currently to the exhaust vent, but there was a lot of open grass between Tango and the nearest hiding place.

Tango shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet, fidgeting with his fingernails nervously. He was already wasting time. Skizz was gonna be so mad at him for being missing for so long the morning after a revelry. Especially one as crazy as the one the night before.

"Scott! Lunch is ready!" Jimmy shouted.

"On my way!" Scott called back. He ripped out one final morning glory and got to his feet. He pulled off his gloves and headed for the back door.

Tango seized his chance to leap from the vent and bolt into the hedges. He wove between the bushes' stems, grabbing branches to lift himself up and swing his legs through gaps where the floor was obstructed.

Through a hole in the fence and into the trees.

The buzzing of wings met his ears.

Right as he got bowled over. A tangle of limbs and wings falling to the forest floor.

"Ack!"

"What the—?!" The loud voice was familiar.

"Bubbles?"

"Tango?"

Bdubs and Tango disentangled themselves from one another, brushing off dirt and shaking off their wings.

"What're you doing here?" Tango asked.

"I could ask you the same thing, mister!" Bdubs exclaimed.

Tango searched around for a good answer, and couldn't find one. "I, um... I..."

"Don't tell me you're in love with a human too!"

"I wouldn't say tha—wait. What do you mean, 'too'?"

"Rats," Bdubs cursed under his breath.

"Bdubs, are you... in love with a human?" Tango was fairly certain he already knew the answer considering Bdubs' shifting eyes and shrunken demeanor. Which was saying nothing about his prior response. But it seemed kinder to ask.

Bdubs shredded a piece of moss off the sleeve of his jacket. It started growing back immediately as Bdubs picked apart the bit he'd pulled off, making tiny little flakes fall to the ground. "Don't tell Skizz," he whispered. "Please. I know he's just trying to protect us while we're in the human world but—"

"No, I wouldn't." Tango shook his head.

"Are you..."

"I don't know," Tango admitted. "I... might be falling. But we're just friends. By accident."

"That's how me and Etho got started. Accidentally met."

Tango nodded. "If Skizz asks, we were out in the woods together." Fairies couldn't lie, and that was technically true. "He'll be less suspicious if we show up together."

Bdubs jumped on the excuse. "Yes!"

"Let's head back. Walk with me. We were together in the woods the whole time."

—

Are you in love with a human too? Bdubs words chased each other around and around in Tango's head. He laid on his bed in his room of the tree and put his arm behind his head, looking up at the woodgrain of the ceiling. Lost in thought.

Jimmy made his heart get faster. Jimmy was handsome and sweet.

On the way back, Bdubs had told Tango that there was a spell he used to make himself temporarily human-sized so he and Etho could spend time together in the human world. There was also a spell to make a human fairy-sized, but it was much trickier to accomplish and humans couldn't be disguised as fairies—no wings—as easily as fairies could disguise themselves as human.

Tango liked spending time with Jimmy. But it felt too soon to say for sure whether he was in love. "In love" seemed like a big step. Maybe the first initial pieces of a crush were falling into place. But he wouldn't go so far as to say he was in love with Jimmy. Handsome and sweet and kind as he was... It was too early for in love.

He rolled onto his side, listening to an owl hooting nearby, thinking too hard to fall asleep yet.

Maybe he'd get Bdubs to teach him the temporary spell. Maybe he'd... could he give it a shot? Outside of fire magic, Tango wasn't the best at magic. He wouldn't want to fail the spell and end up a tadpole or something. Which wouldn't surprise him.

He pursed his lips. Not yet. He wasn't in love yet. And he wasn't going to ask Bdubs for the spell yet. Maybe one day. But not yet.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Trying to ignore the way Bdubs' words were still spiraling through his head.

—

A month passed, spring gradually warming up. The days getting a bit longer. Tango visited Jimmy about once a week, if he could swing it to get away. Though sometimes more time passed between. Ten days to two weeks. But Jimmy was always happy to be woken in the middle of the night to Tango poking him in the nose or pulling on his hair to wake him up.

"Jimmy?" Scott asked, snapping his fingers a few inches away from Jimmy's face to catch his attention.

Jimmy shook his head to clear it and smiled. "What's up?"

"I asked if you were interested in going to the shops with me. There are a few things I need to get for the garden and then I thought maybe we could grab some lunch while we were out, for once. If you wanted to join me."

Jimmy nodded. "Sounds fun! Let me go get some socks and shoes on." He got up from the table and went off for his room.

—

"Psst! Jimmy?" Tango crept around the house, darting between hiding places where the stupid cat couldn't paw at him and bust his other wing. "Jimmy, are you home?" The house was dark. None of the artificial lights were on. The only light was whatever sunlight could make it through closed blinds and curtains.

He found his way to Jimmy's room. It was both empty and messy. And dark. Unoccupied. "Jimmy?"

Silence.

Tango adjusted the threads on his splint and his wings fluttered. And then drooped.

He climbed up on Jimmy's desk and found the pencil he'd mangled to make his splint. Holding it in both arms, braced against his torso, he wrote a note on a little square pad of paper—that he put under Jimmy's pillow so he'd find it when he was in private.

Stopped by to say hi. Sorry I missed you. -T

—

The tiny independent café was pretty empty for lunchtime on a Saturday. Maybe the looming clouds were keeping people at home.

Jimmy had his mouth pressed against his thumbs where his hands were clasped and his elbows were on the table while he and Scott waited for their lunch to be ready. Scott was checking his shopping list and hadn't really even noticed Jimmy was watching him with a thoughtful expression on his face. He was ticking things off and muttering under his breath while Jimmy just watched.

"Scott?" Jimmy finally said.

Scott looked up. "What's up?" he asked.

Jimmy took a deep breath. "I was thinking about that fair we went to," he said.

Scott nodded. "It was fun. Thanks for telling me it was in town."

"Yeah. 'Course."

"There's something more you want to say, isn't there? You've got that face on."

Jimmy nodded. "There is."

"Alright. Out with it."

"It's about how I found out it was in town."

Scott put his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers, phone discarded, screen down, off to the side. "I'm listening."

—

Tango scoured the court's library, deep in the roots of the tree. He had a little paper and some ink ready to write down everything he'd need.

"Whatcha doin', Tango?" Bdubs asked loudly.

Tango whirled. "Ssshhh!" he hissed. "I'm glad you made it. I need your help to find something."

"What?"

"You were right. And I need your help."

"Tell me what you need," Bdubs said.

—

“Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy!”

Jimmy woke up to Tango scrambling up the side of his bed, clutching at the sheets to pull himself to the top of the mattress. Fatigue vanished. He propped himself up on his elbow. “Tango! I’m glad you’re here. I have a big surprise!”

“Oh! I do too!”

“Ooh! I bet my surprise is bigger,” Jimmy whispered.

“I seriously doubt it,” Tango whispered back playfully.

“You go first.”

“No, you. I insist.”

"No, no. I want you to say yours first."

"Mm-mm. My lips are sealed until you tell me yours!" Tango beamed cheekily, shaking his head.

Jimmy grinned. “You remember my housemate, right? Scott? With the blue hair?” Tango nodded. “Well. He and I have been dancing around feelings for each other for ages now. Neither of us really wanting to ruin our friendship. But I thought about what you’d said about taking what life gives us and finally decided to tell him. And he felt the same and—he’s my partner now! We’re together! Tango, I love him so much. Thank you for helping me have the courage to say something.”

Tango’s wings dropped. “O-oh,” he said. “Yeah. That, uh… that certainly is big news.”

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy?”

“No, I am! Just… My news isn’t as big by comparison.”

“Well, what was your news?”

Tango’s wings lifted and fluttered in perfect unison. “My, uh, my wing is all better. I can fly again. Kinda, uh, paltry news compared to yours.”

“Oh, Tango, that’s amazing! I’m so happy you’ve got that part of your life back!” Jimmy smiled. He reached out as though to offer Tango a friendly touch with one fingertip, but Tango took a step away.

“Yeah. Me, uh, me too.” His wings trilled like a hummingbird's as he lifted off the bed. “I should… I should let you get back to sleep. I’m sure you’re busy now with a new romance.” He swooped over to the open window he must have come through, his wings trailing red dust. “Sleep well, Jimmy.”

"Do you not want to stay a few? Have some milk or water?"

Tango's wings glimmered in the shaft of moonlight. "No, thank you. I don't want to keep you. Some other night, maybe."

“Tango, are you sure you’re okay?”

Tango smiled. But his hair was simmering low and red, rather than big and yellow. “I’ve certainly been worse,” he said before ducking through the window and disappearing into the night.

—

The shock broke before Tango made it back to the court’s hollow tree. He plummeted into some soft-looking leaves and clung to the branch, sobbing. He’d found the spell Bdubs used to be human-sized temporarily to be with his… Etho. He’d found the ritual Lizzie used to become human permanently. He’d been all ready to square up and tell Jimmy his real feelings. Ask for a real chance as equals on a level playing field. Confess he’d been in love with Jimmy for awhile.

A sob wracked through him.

Not meant to be.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was happy for Jimmy. Of course he was. He loved Jimmy and wanted him to be happy. He was happy Jimmy found someone who made him happy. He just couldn’t ignore the overwhelming tidal wave of sorrow that crashed over him.

He pulled his little scroll of magic notes out of his pocket and began to lift it up to his hair.

He stopped.

He couldn't bring himself to do it.

His grip on the scroll was going to crease the paper, probably, but he couldn't quite bring himself to burn it.

He just let himself cry. Away from the court. Away from any prying eyes. In a tree where he could just release the emotions where no one would ask questions he didn't want to answer.

His heart broke and his chest felt both hollow and like he was caught in the vice-like grip of a human fist. Unable to escape. Pain gnawed at his chest and heart, spurring tears to fall, plopping on the bark of the tree branch.

Something else burned—and Tango cried out, clutching at his chest in surprise. "Wh... what?" he rasped out.

The burning—it was magic.

That twist in the fabric of magic that Tango had almost forgotten about over the past month.

A promise.

Which promise had Jimmy made? Why had it broken?

"J... Jimmy," he whispered as panic descended over him. He spilled himself off the side of the branch, his wings fluttering fast to catch him in the air. He twisted and shot back toward Jimmy's house. Trying desperately to remember which promise Jimmy had broken. Why was his memory so bad?

He got back to the house just in time to see a rather vacant-eyed Fern climbing over the fence from the house next-door. The one Bdubs often left.

"Fern! Fern!" Tango hissed, darting out of the trees to intercept his friend. Her eyes were glassy and empty, her black wings mostly blending into the night. "Fern, what's wrong? What's going on?" He knew, already, but he was hoping she would remind him which promise had broken.

"Someone broke a promise," Fern droned blankly.

The door to the neighbors' house opened. "Fern?!" a voice hissed. Tango turned to see a woman about the same age as Jimmy with brown hair that turned to purple toward the ends in a loose T-shirt and trousers leaning against the frame.

"Someone broke a promise," Fern repeated.

"Rora? Something wrong?" a voice Tango now recognized as Etho's called from deeper in the house.

"Everything's fine," Rora called back. Her eyes locking with Tango's for just a moment before she stepped back and nodded. The back door shut.

Fern moved around Tango and headed for the window to Jimmy's room. Somewhere distant, he could hear humming and buzzing.

Tango twisted just in time to see the rest of the court emerging from the trees.

"No, wait—wait!" Tango exclaimed, zipping to cut Fern off. He threw his arms out to stop her from being able to open the window. "Now wait, just listen to me—"

He got cut off by Fern waving a hand and the window flying open.

Skizz slammed into Tango and they both went tumbling into the room, landing on the desk. Skizz didn't even seem to realize he'd done it, getting up and flying over to the bed.

The court landed on the pillow around Jimmy's head.

All of them were muttering about broken promises, not seeming to really notice Tango at all. All of them were leaving colored fairy dust all over the pillow and bedding.

Jimmy's eyes were open but they were just as glassy as the court's. His mouth was slack and he seemed to be in a sort of fugue state.

"Stop—wait—Skizz—stop!" Tango pleaded. He flew over and hovered in front of Skizz, his wings fluttering madly, feet dangling an inch above the pillow to be level with Skizz's height. "Skizz, wait! Please!" He grabbed Skizz's shoulder and shook it.

"The human has broken a promise to the Fae," Skizz said, voice toneless. "He falls under Fae rules. Left to the mercy of Fae control." Skizz grabbed Tango by the shoulders and pushed him down.

Tango's bare feet slipped a little on the cotton pillowcase.

But it seemed to snap the court out of their drone state. Zed's mismatched wings flittered as he looked around. Impulse sneezed his own gold fairy dust off his face. Gem's brow was furrowed as she kept Bdubs from falling over. Scar and Cub were near one another, as always, shoulders pressed together for comfort.

"Tango?" Zed asked. "What's going on? Who is this? Why are we here?"

"What promise was broken?" Fern put in.

Tango ignored their questions. "Go home, all of you," he said firmly to the court. "This isn't any of your business."

Skizz's firm hand rested on his shoulder. "We can't leave yet, Tango. Not until the price for a broken promise is paid."

"Price..." Tango couldn't remember what the price was anymore.

Skizz bent to give him a gentle look. "The promise was made to you. You have to lay a geas on him. He's under your control. He can't be freed from this state until you give him a command."

"No," Tango insisted, pushing Skizz's hand off his shoulder, his wings fluttering madly, but not lifting him up in the air. "I made him a promise too. That I would never hurt him. I'm not going to curse him with a geas."

Bdubs' mouth fell a little slack. "This is the human you fell in love with," he whispered quietly.

A murmur rippled through the court.

Skizz's expression hardened. "You what now?"

Tango set his jaw. "It doesn't matter," he spat. "He doesn't feel the same. He has a partner he's in love with. But I'm not going to hurt him. Broken promise or not, he doesn't deserve that. I won't be the wicked trickster fairy who ruins his life. I'm not that spiteful. I can't do that to him."

"Then you confine him to this forever," Skizz retorted.

Tango stiffened. He thought quickly, looking around Jimmy's bedroom. "You said the geas was a task to fulfill?"

"Them's the rules, Tango-Top," Skizz agreed.

Tango fluttered over to Jimmy's ear and knelt next to it. He closed his eyes and thought. One of his hands curled into a fist in Jimmy's hair. Just to ground himself.

He took a deep breath. "Get rid of any evidence that we ever knew each other," he said. "That mangled pencil. The doll cups. Throw it all out."

Clarity sharpened in Jimmy's eyes as Tango stood up and took a few steps back. He took a deep breath and blinked several times, rousing. "What in the... Tango, hang on!" he protested quietly. Tango's shoulders were curled forward and his wings and pointed ears drooped.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked quietly.

"All of it!"

A pang ricocheted through Tango's chest. "So... you know. How I really..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter." He looked at the rest of the court. "Go home. The price is set to be paid. Leave," he said, a sharp edge to his voice.

Bdubs was the first to take wing toward the window. Gem followed. Then Scar and Cub. Fern looked wary but she lifted off the pillow and crossed the room. Zed, Impulse, and Skizz were quiet for several long moments, all looking at Tango. He narrowed his eyes, his fire hair flaring brighter and hotter.

"Go," he ordered.

For a moment, he thought they wouldn't. "Come on, guys," Impulse said, his moth wings sweeping through the air. Skizz and Zed took wing just after him and the three of them went through the open window.

Jimmy sat up. His body seeming to be moving without his conscious command. "Wait—Tango—hang on—why—" He stumbled a bit getting out of the covers, one foot getting caught in the bedding for a moment. "Why did you order me to get rid of the evidence that we've known each other?" He was already moving to his desk—which was covered in multi-colored fairy dust from the entire court's flight in and out of the room—and pulling the mangled pencil out of the cup.

Tango swallowed down the lump in his throat, flying alongside Jimmy's head. "Because with the evidence disposed of, it'll be easier for you to forget me."

"Forget?!" Jimmy demanded. "How do you mean forget? Are you going to magic away my memories?"

"No. I'm not good enough at magic for that. You're gonna forget eventually because you're human and that's how human memories work. Not too long from now, all I'll be is a recurring dream you had for a month and then never again."

"What?!"

"I'm never coming back here, Jimmy. I'm not putting you in this position again. Your broken promise wasn't even your fault. It was mine. And I won't do that to you again. You'll never see me again. I'll be a pleasant memory of a fuzzy, funny dream you once had. A silly fairy with fire for hair."

"Tango wait. That part that the moss-covered fairy said. About you being in love with me—"

"It doesn't matter. You're in love with your housemate. You should be with him. He makes you happy. I was just a friend and I have no right to any of your feelings. I, uh..." Tango rocked in the air. "I'm going back to Avalon for the rest of the year. Leave the rest of my court alone. They're not as forgiving as I am. You probably will never see them anyway." Tango stopped directly in front of Jimmy's face, making him halt in the hallway on his way to the kitchen where the doll cups were. "Jimmy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I messed it all up."

"Wait, Tango, don't say that—"

"I was gonna tell you, earlier, that, uh... that I'd found some magic that could temporarily make me human-sized. I was gonna ask for a shot with you. But I'd rather you be happy with your human partner. It'd be much easier for you. So... thank you. For all the fun we did get to share. It was worth it, to me." He flew close to Jimmy's face, his fire hair turning back into normal hair to not burn him. "Be happy, Jimmy. That's your real geas from me. Your real command. Be happy and live a full, human life. Forget about me. Let me be just that pleasant, silly dream. Nothing more."

Tango leaned forward and pressed a warm kiss to the space between Jimmy's eyebrows.

"Be happy and love freely," he whispered.

He darted around Jimmy's head and flew for the open bedroom window, zipping out into the night as little more than a tiny ball of red light.

—

Jimmy's body moved of its own accord, taking the mangled pencil and the plastic Barbie cups to his neighbors' rubbish bin before delivering him back to his own bedroom and finally releasing him from whatever hold the magic had on him.

He ran out into his backyard. "Tango!" he whisper-shouted. "Tango?"

Silence. Nothing more than the crickets and other night bugs.

—

Tango packed up his room in the tree, making sure everything was neatly organized.

"Knock-knock," a voice said from the doorway. He turned to see Skizz, Bdubs, Zed, and Impulse lingering there. "What're you doing?"

"I, uh... I'm going back to Avalon for the rest of the year. I'll come back next spring. I just..." He shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to be here. Not with everything I messed up. I need to go home. Clear my head."

Zed was the first to step over the threshold. "We'll miss you," he said softly.

"I know," Tango said. "I'll miss you to. But I'll see you when autumn gets too cold."

"That's right, you will," Impulse said.

Zed wrapped his arms around Tango. "Come on, bring it in," he said. Tango clung to his friend tightly. Skizz and Impulse wrapped arms around the both of them in a crushing group hug, Bdubs draped outside them all as best he could.

"I'm sorry, Tango," Skizz said. "I was too harsh earlier."

"No. You were right. I got too close to the humans and I made a mistake and it almost hurt one. It won't happen again."

Skizz rested his chin in Tango's hair. "Be safe in Avalon, buddy."

"I will."

[not-freyja]

LU Write-A-Thon

This our second monthly LU Write-A-Thon, spearheaded by @hotcheetohatredwastaken and myself, will run on July 1, 2024 from 12 am to 12 am GMT (7pm to 7pm EST starting June 30). There is one goal in mind with this event---write as many productive words within that day as humanly possible.

Originally a fun game amongst friends, we are now opening this up to the general fandom-body-public (and happily so) by popular demand!

The event will be hosted on discord, and the link will go out via a reblog/reply/edit combo on this post a few hours before the event starts.

We're so excited to have all of you come and write with us, and the event rules are right here blow the cut:

What counts as writing?

Writing fanfiction or original fiction, leaving or answering comments, outlining, drafting, storyboarding, personal journaling, and (writing) homework---basically, anything that furthered yourself, the LU writing community at large, or your stories with a positive word count, can be included in your final word count.

(Editing previously-written works can also be included, but only if it produces a positive word count, and only those new words may be counted. The goal is to get new words on the page).

What CANNOT be counted as writing?

General chatting, talking about already written works, etc, will not count towards your final word count. Words counted must, as previously stated, further yourself, the writing community, or your stories. This does not mean that you can't chat with your fellow writers---the ⁠⁠chaos-chat thread was created for such a purpose!---but the main goal of this event is to produce and engage in writing in one form or another.

What is a sprint, and what is the schedule for the sprints?

Sprints are (voluntary) periods of concentration in which writers will write as much as they can within a time limit, with some friendly competition to be the one with the most words by the end of the sprint. These will be hosted in the ⁠⁠sprint-bot thread. Every hour, the times :00 to :15 will be dedicated to a 15 minute rest, and then a 45 minute sprint will run from :15 to :59. Moderators will start the sprints periodically---writers can jump in as desired.

Do you have to participate in the sprints?

No. You can write on your own if you wish, just make sure to keep track of your total and only count what is written in the window of 12am to 12am GMT (7pm to 7pm EST) on July 1. Additionally, you can write in the suggested breaks between sprints, but again, make sure to keep track of your word count on your own then.

How should I count my words?

There are two main ways that you can count your words---using the Sprinto Bot in the ⁠⁠sprint-bot channel, or keeping track of them yourself. If you are keeping track of them yourself, especially if you're counting words other than fiction writing where your word count is easy to find, please take care to be as accurate as possible---you can use an application like Google Docs or Word to give you your exact word count, even if you have to copy and paste your ao3 comments into them to get it.

If you're handwriting, this gets a little bit rougher to calculate, but we'll encourage you to give it your best estimate.

We'll be on the honor system here: play fair, and report as accurately as possible.

Where/When should I report my words?

Final word counts will be reported in the ⁠⁠word-count-total channel. We encourage you to make ONE post at the beginning of the marathon with your word count; then, as the event continues, you can edit your post and update your word count there.

You can update your word count at any point during the marathon in the channel mentioned above---in fact, the breaks between sprints would be a great time. And once the event is over, there's a period of grace of up to 6 hours for everyone to get their word counts in, but no more writing is allowed during this time. After 6 hours (6 am GMT; 11pm EST), the thread will be locked, and no more additions will be made. So be sure to get your final count in as soon as possible, once the event is over (or even before, if you must dip early).

What if I can only write a little?

That is fine. We are going to be playfully competitive, but it is not a contest---it is a group project. We are using teamwork to make the line go up. Every word counts, and any amount of writing is a fantastic amount of writing. The goal is to do better than last time AS A GROUP, not individually. So do what you can, and be sure to have fun with the rest of us!

WORD COUNT TO BEAT: 88,978

[writermuses]

📌 Post | Rules + Life Update

Hello writers, I'm Natty (36, she/her) and this is my selective indie rp blog. I've been writing on this hellsite for well over a decade in groups and indie. There will be triggering content on this blog (tagged: trigger tw) and spicy content (tagged: smut). Most of the writing on this blog is slice of life. You'll notice many muses are in careers for my hyperfixations (motorsport like F1 and MotoGP or the NHL). I'm not big on writing in fantasy fandoms and I'm exceptionally bad at answering DMs. You can see my rules below to decide if this is a place you want to be.

ONE . Minors DNI! For professional and personal reasons I will block any blog without the age clearly displayed on a pinned post or blog description or where muns, muses, and FCs that are below 21 or problematic. If you notice one of mine is problematic, please let me know via ask or DM with a link to your source. I don't keep up with celebrities personal lives and assure you it wasn't intentional.

TWO . DO NOT like/reblog the musings unless your blog was tagged. This is not a resource blog. I spend hours curating my aesthetics and posts, you can click the source link to get to the place I found it. Note: I post a lot of musings because it helps me process my characters and plots or celebrate my ships. I will say in the tag what you can blacklist to keep it off your dash.

THREE . Stop at 2 replies per day. You should utilize queue to interact with me. I am a weekend RPer because of my career. I do not want instant replying partners or spamming partners. If we're both online and want rapid back and forth that's a conversation we can have for a specific thread having an exception to this rule or a day or two exception to this rule.

FOUR . Place graphics at the bottom of your reply. This is my only formatting specific rule beyond the usual (cut posts, no large gifs). I make my font smaller, use italics to indicate using another language, and small/medium/icons for gifs. No gifs are used once a thread turns spicy.

FIVE . Read the tags, use the tags, don't get us banned! I'll DM you if you're using a tag that will get us blacklisted by the hellsite. I won't even draft it until it's removed. If I tell you to not match length but our threads keep turning into sagas I may DM that it's too much for me to keep up with. If I haven't replied, check the thread tracker or the last reply's tags. I'm not big on DMs and may have left a note there for you.

SIX . I reserve the right to drop threads or block blogs. Just as you and any other writer does, if it's not working out I'll give both of us 2 months to reply before the thread is considered dropped for taking too long. I will not pick it back up as I have recall issues and will not re-read threads over and over because you push the two month rule over and over. Repeatedly dropping threads, especially if you're perpetually dropping my girls, is going to result in a soft or full block. I won't require a one for one ratio in our threads, but I also won't take on a bunch of mf and ff threads with an all female blog.

If you want to write with me, you must like or comment to this pinned post as your acknowledgement you read my rules. I'll then go to your blog and read/re-read your own. My job and my health (physically in multi-organ failure but in remission from cancer and mental with depression and anxiety, PTSD, and OCD) keep me very busy and sometimes debilitated. I'm unlikely to respond to DMs unless we've been writing together for a long while. Mostly, I just feel like I'm bothering people. Same goes for responding on Discord (which I don't RP on and it's blocked at work anyways) and texts or asks. My additional links are available below:

opens . wanted opposites . muses doc . muses tag . thread tracker . musings blog

[silkieluv]

I’m not deleting this because this annoyingly took me long to write back then but it’s important to me that you know that it’s a draft post from like November, meaning it’s irrelevant. The talked-about post under the cut

I want to start writing this already so badly which means I’ve got to settle on my maybes WHICH IS WHAT IM GONNA DO HERE

If you don’t know: Hiii, I’ll rewrite Skybound to my own image with the help of docs and publish it on ao3

Also no, these aren’t official descriptions to my chapters, just my thoughts to gather shi

Feel free to give me notes/fixes that I didn’t mention and maybe I’ll add it to my fanfiction!

OKAYAY UHMM FIRST

Episode one:

It starts off with the ad that prompts reading that the male ninjas do. Straight up filming anyways despite her not being on set/present. Nya arrives, Dareth became a sexist, but no worries! 2 out of 5 ninjas put him in his place. Fairly horribly ngl “Our powers come from not one being more important than the other” Lloyd, hon, he wasn’t shunning Nya because he doesn’t like water, but because she’s a woman. HE ISNT EVEN HIDING IT. Oh, but I guess that can alll be forgiven since they’re the new face of Teen Idol (a magazine). Who cares that it’s all lies about the love triangle STILL being around and Lloyd becoming a sensei

Then there’s a montage showing the ninjas hiding from fangirls and fanboys (let’s be honest, unfortunately, fangirls) and interviews often people.

Reasons why every ninja is loved, based on those:

- Lloyd: He’s the best (also, comes from an elementary (most likely) student)

-Kai: So hot. Literally. (Comes from a woman probably in her early/mid 20s)

- Jay: So funny. And cute. (Comes from a woman probably in her early/mid 20s)

-Cole: Ghost. Want him, but can’t have him (comes from a woman probably in her 20s) (also a gay reference. It’s said a lot that women are drawn to gay men since they love what they can’t get (which is ridiculous and sexist, but is something that is said a lot)

Nya: Isn’t liked. “Meh”

Zane: Cool. (By an elementary student wearing KAI’s merch!!)

Then there’s that one interview. The interviewer gets close to Nya to ‘whisper’ “Just between you and me, Nya. Jay or Cole?” Then Nya starts her answer with HONESTLY, which should’ve made him back the f train off, but he pushes it, wanting to get an answer even if it’s false. Thankfully, she denies answering a specific reply and tries to change the subject. Then they zoomed into Jay’s uncomfortable face. Obviously a talk about who she prefers is going to make him uncomfortable whether he has or doesn’t have a crush on her, since they used to be in a relationship. But of course they take it as a confirmation that he’s still into her. Which fairly, he is.

Then back to interviews on the street.

Now we’re on the bounty with Wu and Cole, and Wu helps Cole discover a new ability. To disappear! A very cute moment between the two that I love

Then Nya is kicking ice cream (I think, not important) while ranting to herself about all the ways Dareth wronged her by being sexist as she absolutely destroys (not literally) the training robots

Zane wins for the 100th time in Mini-droid chess and Cole comes to make it worse for Jay. Cole brings up the tomb of the FSM and what he saw- err… didn’t see. He explains that that is because he can disappear. Jay tells him to buzz off and he goes away. Zane’s worries of Jay keeping what he saw in the FSM’s tomb secret are confirmed. Jay says he was fine with his love staying unrequited, until he got a confirmation that they were meant to be after all and that now them as a couple is all he thinks about.

Then Nya vents to Misako, and Misako tries her best, but does not excel in this whatsoever (in my opinion, at least)

Then Nya attacks Jay and Zane for staring at her, ‘proving’ Jays point that she hates him. Then Zane wins for the 101th time to 0. Lloyd comes and calls them for a ninja emergency meeting, where Wu informs the team of Clause’s return.

Things to fix (for my fanfiction):

Dareth’s sudden misogynistic arc?

Finding a different reason that doesn’t includes ruining Dareth’s character for Nya to not be on set

The reason why Cole couldn’t see his reflection in the FSM’s tomb

Dear lord, I need to fix Misako’s talk with Nya.

Little notes for myself:

Have Kai message Nya where is she before pressure into starting to film the reading ad

Dareth may be delusional, and it is in character for him to be ignorant (well, a little), but I fully believe that once explained, he’ll drop the sexist actions. WHICH IS WHY I HATE THAT IT DIDNT HAPPEN. So it will happen! Since it’s not relevant to the plot for him to stay sexist

Don’t make Kai’s “important? No. Irresistible? Uh, Debatable” In the middle of explaining Dareth, a man in his 30s, what misogyny is

Give Kai’s fan a little bit of dignity

Change the seating plans of the interview “Jay or Cole?”. It’s always bothered me so much that they are so into this Nya/Jay , Nya/Cole stuff and didn’t have her sit in between them? Idk why it bothers me so much, but it’s not that big of a deal so I’m changing it

How would Wu know of ghosts’ abilities? I’m guessing he read about it specifically for Cole

It’s completely normal for Nya to not want to host girly shows/sequels, but a good excuse for it that I love is that she simply doesn’t know how to put on makeup, cook, etc

When enthusiastic, Cole whistles (yes, like smurfs)

“Her mind’s made up. It’s never gonna happen.” HE UNDERSTOOD. WHY THE HECK DID THE MENTION OF WISHES SUDDENLY MADE JAY THINK ITLL BE A GOOD IDEA TO WISH FOR HER LOVE.

[johnslittlespoon]

askbox question because i've never thrown like, a 'request/idea' offering sorta post out there:

what do you want to see in tough and sweet? like, specific dates you'd like to see the boys go on, certain tropes covered, different kinks/nsfw scenes, scenarios and convos tackled, idk literally anything!

i'm curious because i used to brainrot about it lots here before i started actually writing it but then i stopped so i wouldn't spoil things, and while i'm ofc writing what i love and want to write, it's fun to know what readers wanna read, and to try to incorporate those things where i can. :-) but also my list of scenes to include is So Long i feel like so many ideas will already be in my drafting doc LOL <3

i have the whole fic plotted out, but lots of room for little things in between the bigger plot points, so! no promises obvi, but i'd love to hear your thoughts. the main one i get asked for in comments/asks is about writing a gale pov oneshot, which i'm most definitely doing– sooner than you think. >:) lmkkk, anon is fine!! if i don't reply, i promise i read it, i just have 100+ asks rn and too much to do irl but i appreciate each one soso much :'))

[l223m0nade]

It's Christmas and in classic me tradition the gifts closest to my heart are also the rushed/unfinished ones. So have half of a draft of a fic that I started and still love but haven't written the second bit of!

Merry Krampus, Happy Solstice, Happy plain ol' dec 25 for anyone not celebrating or feeling it, it's still a dang day off.

When Bucky opened the door and saw Steve he smiled, but he looked a little downcast and guilty/shifty as well. He was also in thick sweatpants and an undershirt (as Steve still thought of them).

“Hey, Buck,” they’d planned to meet here, at Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment, but he’d figured they’d go out. Staying in just wasn’t something he really associated with Bucky, even in the future. He knew he had some favorite neighborhood haunts where he and Steve’s faces went either unnoticed or unremarked. “I get the time right?” He tried not to cringe in annoyance at himself and how awkward he always seemed to get around Bucky.

“Yeah,” the shifty guilt look intensified as he pushed the door open and ushered Steve in. Bucky muttered, “Sorry, I shoulda called to cancel or warn you, but, I guess I still wanted to hang out or whatever.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve was torn between concern and distraction at how soft and tired Bucky looked. He seemed a shade too pale, and pink around his eyes and nose. The pants were big and loose but the white tank top was small, clinging to his waist, and the effect was almost girlish despite the way it showed off his muscles. On the left side of his neck the edge of the angry pink scar tissue around his left shoulder was visible. His hair was pulled into a high bun that showed off the small bottom portion he’d shaved.

“It’s nothing much, I’m fine, just—coming down sick. Like I gotta headcold,” said Bucky, gesturing vaguely at his face and sniffing. He did sound different, Steve realized, a bit nasal and congested. He rubbed at his nose and it flushed a shade pinker. Steve blinked. His brain was trying to process the new information, but it seemed to have frozen up.

“I thought we couldn’t get sick!” He sounded suspiciously high-pitched. Was it obvious?

“I know!” Bucky didn’t seem to notice, slouching over to the coffee table and the box of tissues there. For a moment there was a look on his face like he needed to sneeze, but then he squelched it by blowing his nose. “Ugh. Sorry. The doc says the serum should take care of all normal germs, but I got lucky and happened to bust up a lab trying to brew super-germs. Even then they shouldn’t have gotten the better of me. Guess I been burning the candle at both ends a little too much.” He flashed Steve a wry little smirk, but then he sighed and seemed to deflate a bit. “So, I dunno. You’re probably safe from catching this but I don’t blame you if you don’t wanna risk it. But, if you wanna join me for a night in, order pizza or something.” Another sniff, and he rubbed at his nose self-consciously.

Steve lifted the 6-pack he’d brought, and they grinned at each other. Then Bucky turned aside with a series of sniffles. The ticklish little look was coming back into his face, but he grabbed a tissue to blow and then massage his nose.

“What’re we watching?” asked Steve eagerly. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Get me a beer and we can fight about it.”

They went over their familiar argument over baseball. Steve honestly, embarrassingly loved it. He was a real person, but he had been born on July 4th, his favorite pie was apple, and no one would ever convince him there was a better game than baseball. Bucky loved it too, but he’d caught wind of soccer while fighting in Europe, and had been pursuing the interest here in the future, at least partly just to needle him, Steve was convinced.

“Don’t tell me you don’t wanna see the Yankees lose.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky replied absently, worrying his nose with the tissue in his right hand.

“You can’t tell me whatever little club rivalry going on tonight can top that.”

Instead of the expected comeback, there was a pause, and just as Steve turned,

“Mmp!...mmph” Bucky rocked forward slightly with the second suppressed sneeze, the crumpled tissue pressed firmly to his nose. He gave a soft, tired exhale as he dropped his hand, blinked and looked at Steve, with a bit of that sweet cow-eyed expression he got when he was dazed. “Sorry, ‘scuse me,”

“You should be drinking tea, not beer,” Steve frowned.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll live.” When he saw Steve’s schoolmarm frown deepen he laughed. “I got tea! I’ll drink tea. Later. Now, beer.” It did as little for him as it did Steve, but he seemed to still take active pleasure in drinking, in a way Steve didn’t. Well, he never really had, being a two-drink featherweight before the serum.

Steve drank his beer and bantered on autopilot and listened to the slight rasp starting to enter Bucky’s voice, and looked at his pale face and irritated nose that kept needing a sniff or a rub, and then without his permission his mouth was saying, “You shouldn’t just be having pizza for dinner, either. Let me run to the store and get a few things and I’ll make you something good.”

“What, you’re gonna make me chicken soup?” Bucky looked politely quizzical but Steve could tell he was laughing at him. “Doesn’t that take a while?”

“I was just sayin,” muttered Steve, feeling ridiculous.

“Cuz you gotta make the stock first- of course you gotta make your own stock if you wanna make any sick people well,” Bucky continued sagely, then gave Steve a look of mock outrage. “You were gonna make me soup with store-bought stock, weren’t you?”

“Why is it for sale in the stores if it’s such a crime to use it!?” Steve exclaimed, not for the first time. Sometimes he was amazed at the modern conveniences people turned their noses up at. “I never said soup, you were just raggin me. I can cook, I’ve gotten much better!” Bucky was chuckling openly at him now, shaking his head, but with a look of such fondness it made Steve want to duck his head.

“I know—“ Bucky’s breath caught before he could go on, and he froze with his fist pressed under his nose. After a long moment he relaxed with a sigh, and a throat-clear, and a series of sniffles. He was fine, but he already seemed a little worse than when Steve had come in. “Tell you what,” he continued, “we can order from one of my favorite places, they do Thai and Vietnamese, they got that soup, ever had it? I remembered it from sometime back,” and he did the theatrical shudder that he used in place of saying ‘I’m referring to a memory from the decades I spent brainwashed and imprisoned and forced to kill on behalf of an evil organization.’ “It’s different, but it’s chicken noodle, so you hafta approve.”

Steve had heard of phuh-spelled-pho but hadn’t tried it yet, so he went for some too, along with more than half their appetizer menu.

…

Bucky had been through so much, and it had been hard, he knew, and surely it still was, had to be, but...Steve still felt astonished at how well he was doing. Overjoyed, yes, but also thrown for a damn loop, so often these days when he say him or heard things through the grapevine. It wasn’t just how incredibly well recovered he was, it was…

Bucky was so modern, these days. Steve was still trying to wrap his head around some of the things in what he still thought of as the future rather than the present some times, while Bucky had blown past him and dove into the unfamiliar head-first and now seemed so at home in 2015 that Steve felt like an old fuddy-duddy around him. The hair, the tattoos, the clothes; the late nights out on the town and the casual flings weren’t new, but the fact that he didn’t seem to discriminate between genders certainly was—at least as far as Steve knew, and there was that out-at-sea-with-no-anchor feeling again, the one he got alone in Bucky’s company, these days.

He’d only realized since Bucky had come back that he’d hidden his feelings behind walls of friendship and sarcasm. When Bucky was getting ready for one of his endless succession of dates he’d teased him mercilessly for all his primping. He’d admired Bucky’s skill and focus as a soldier but he’d still been endlessly amused by his wet-cat outrage at not being able to keep his hair the way he liked it. He had never let it cross his own mind that he was burning with jealousy or helpless with infatuation. He’d never had the slightest hint Bucky might have gone with a guy, never thought about it, and wouldn’t have believed it if he’d heard anything.

Bucky had even...one night, one of the first times they’d been really fall-down drunk together, he’d planted a big sloppy kiss on Steve, like a dare, and Steve had never once thought about it, had convinced himself immediately that he didn’t remember, despite the fact that he did, of course he did, he remembered Bucky’s game, careless grin right after, as Steve laughed him off. He remembered how his heart had stopped when their lips touched.

Somehow everything was different now, in the future, between him and Bucky. And if it was a painful, war-born chasm between them, forged of Bucky’s trauma and guilt and Steve’s trauma and guilt, that would be at least somewhat expected. After the helicarriers when Bucky/the Winter Soldier was in the wind, Steve had anticipated finding him a wreck, desperate and dangerous, trying to put pieces of his mind back together. It might have been that way for a few weeks, but the first real lead Steve and Sam got on their ghost-man-hunt was not Bucky being arrested for attacking someone or showing up half-starved on Steve’s doorstep, or anything like that.

Hello, Steve. It was a disembodied voice, out of the blue, in his head one ordinary morning, making Steve drop his coffee and throw his bagel. I’m so sorry. It was a woman’s voice, deep and serene. There’s no danger and you’re not hallucinating. You might not appreciate advice from a voice in your head, but try and take a few deep breaths and I’ll explain.

Her name was Jean Grey. Bucky had gone to her organization for help. He had known about them somehow, had some obscure, probably terrible, connection from his past. He had known there were people who did things with brains who were not evil, and he’d gambled that they would be able and willing to help him get his mind back. Steve couldn’t imagine the courage that had taken.

So Bucky had stayed in a mansion in the woods somewhere for three months, and had come back to New York changed and damaged but in possession of his own mind and will. He had come back Bucky Barnes, in short, and had moved into his own place in Brooklyn and set about adjusting to the future.

Somewhere along the line he’d lost the ability to worry what people thought of him, it seemed like. The Bucky of the past had always been confident, but it could never be said that he didn’t care about the world’s opinion of him, even if he tried to act otherwise. Now there wasn’t an ounce of pretense about him. It made Steve painfully aware of the starched-shirt awkwardness he carried, from still thinking along the cultural lines of 1938 and from being expected to be in-character as Captain America at all times.

Bucky wasn’t in the public eye, his true identity still a secret. He worked with Nat and Clint sometimes, as well as one of the people from the mysterious psychic mansion. Steve had a suspicion he reported to Fury in some top-secret capacity these days. He had some kind of day-job cover situation as well. According to Clint he was the “full Brooklyn hipster package.” To Steve he seemed fluidly at ease in the brave new world they had both washed up in. Culture nowadays did seem to value emotional autonomy and mental health far over conformity; it wasn’t a shock, really, that Bucky’s past meant that held a lot of appeal for him. And he’d always been hungry for the next new thing, trendy or technical. He seemed delighted rather than daunted that everything was new now.

They watched the first innings of the baseball game while waiting for the food. Bucky tried to upset him by telling him about the weird obsessive statistical analysis fans required of themselves. He also sneezed at least a dozen times, his nose teasing him nonstop. The little wicker wastebasket near the couch was being steadily filled with tissues.

“hhh...huh—,” he froze, staring up, and then slumped, sniffling. “Ugh, Jesus. My nose is so itchy but I can’t tell when I’m,” his breath hitched and his voice changed pitch, “actually...hh...gon—nih—hih—ditshchu! Ugh.Gonnda sndeeze. Snff.”

Steve’s mouth was dry. He felt lightheaded—was he going to swoon like a Victorian lady?

[dungeonmalcontent]

I fixed alignment!

Link to the document in question if you don't care to hear the tale of it.

That's a really ambitious thing to declare. I even already went to the trouble of making this because I've been planning on announcing like this.

But, yeah.

Maybe I didn't fix it, per se. At worst, you can call this an alternative system to traditional alignment. And it all started because people were getting a little too complicated talking about the "nuance" of the standard alignment system and things like the MTG mana color system.

And my response was going to be "what ya'll are trying to get at is a spider graph." But that extended response post got annihilated because I didn't save it as a draft before switching tabs. So I started writing it up as its own post. And that lead to me making some demonstration graphs, and that lead to me going ahead and just writing up a whole essay. And then I adapted that essay into a variant rules module for 5e d&d.

So. Yeah. That's how I ended up making Re:Alignment. (get it, it's like a pun, because "re:" is the default header for a reply email and I'm responding to the trash state of alignment in 5e, but it's also read as "realignment" like repairing a misalignment.. it's clever, just trust me)

The document is 11 pages and can be read in its entirety as a preview on DMsGuild if you follow the link to it (easier to do on desktop). The doc outline how this approach to alignment changes how alignment works, the actual alignment system itself, and describes what I have essentially replaced good, evil, lawful, chaotic, and neutral with. I also included a print friendly PDF sheet to fit into a character sheet where you can track your spider graph alignment and other important alignment based RP information. Also also, there's a standalone graph jpg that you can slap onto a modified character sheet or other RP tool of your choice.

The doc is priced as "pay what you want", so if you want a downloaded copy or one you can print (though hopefully not the last page, because I make those all black) you can get it for free. If you want to throw a little money my way or if you really like the system, you can pay however much money you want. It was like 48 hours of work, so a decent amount of effort went into this.

If you're wondering "what did this moron replace the alignments with?" I'll answer that right now. I replaced alignment with this:

If you want to figure out what that means and how it works, read the doc. It's not that long and it describes it pretty thoroughly.

[sagaschan]

What happened on Sep 16th: a compilation

If I could clarify some things. Lots happened on twitter within a short timeframe, and I've seen a fair number of people misled, so here goes. The Project Moon User Association(PMUA) had received the reply to their demand letter(can only be received by the recipient, and can't be refused) a week ago, but waited to make their statement because they still believed there was a chance PM could apologize, and because the Youth Union(YU) requested it. PMUA uploaded PM's reply and their statement today.

PM's reply, written by a lawyer, said essentially: You are lying and it affected our sales so I will sue you. The termination was legal because Vellmori said first that she wanted to resign(we have a recording). We wrote the agreement with Vellmori and her lawyer later. In order to protect her and the other employees we did nothing(if that sounds illogical to you, it is). Disappear immediately or we will sue you for defamation.

There are many things wrong with the reply, as covered by the PMUA's statement, but I'll get to that later. Alright let's go for it, says the PMUA.

Then PM tweets two threads. The first thread says: We were only laying low to protect our employees, y'all are lying, if you attack our employees we will sue you. The second one says: The YU tried to use us for political gains, since we were going to announce legal action against employee harrassment anyway but they tried to take the credit for it. Look at this image of a document where YU says they were wrong, and apologizes. This PMUA might be under the YU's control, isn't it suspicious? And political?

PM, though technically it's KJH, keeps insinuating that those such as PMUA and the YU are attacking the employees, when it's only KJH himself who's been criticized since 7.25, when he tweeted that they had 'terminated the contract' with Vellmori for violating company rules. The fans knew that was illegal. The paper that interviewed Vellmori the day after, the various news media that reached out to PM, the unions that spoke out on the matter knew it was illegal. We weren't going to let him get away with it if we could help it.

The YU rep Lee Jongchan(@JCLEE0333 on twitter) provided a more accurate picture. The YU, having just learned of the agreement between Vellmori and PM from PM's reply, had asked the PMUA to delay their statement, contacted PM behind the scenes. The PMUA and the unions they were working with had been trying to solve the situation amicably if possible, if PM would just come to the table and learn how to fix the situation. A legal fight would be the absolute last resort, since they wanted the company to do better.

This is where the supposed statement from the YU that PM included in their second thread comes in. A crude screencap of a word doc with typos and 'draft' in the title. It says: We recognize there was no illegal firing and that you've taken precautions to protect employees. We're sorry and we retract our protest. We welcome that you've stated ideology hunts and cyberbullying against your employees will be dealt with stern legal action. Basically, the YU didn't want Vellmori to be bothered anymore so they'd take a bit of a L.

The thing is, during the negotiations KJH refused to include that PM would take legal action to protect employees from ideology hunts and cyberbullying in the future in PM's statement. Apparently that wasn't something he could agree with. Negotiations fell out(around 8 pm, according to KJH), and the next day PMUA went ahead with their statement.

That's the bare facts of it. But I'd like to elaborate a little on where PM is contradicting itself, though the PMUA has already covered some of it.

1. It's laughable that KJH is using the excuse of 'protecting employees' to explain PM's past actions and future motivations, when he can't even put it on paper.

2. He most definitely did not protect his employees. The initial lack of action against DCinside incels' camping out of their office, how he treated contractors like Mimi(author of Wonderlab) and Monggeu(artist for Leviathan comics), the overwork and harrassment Eng translator Watson experienced, the HHPP manager he used as a scapegoat, the LoR Chinese localization team that still hasn't been paid... the list keeps growing.

3. KJH's words are all over the place. In the very first notice he says Vellmori's contract has been terminated because she violated company rules. You know, just as DC had asked for. In the second one, on 8.3, he says they did not fire her, and that it had nothing to do with ideologies. And that he would sue anyone calling it an illegal dismissal. (Also when news media reached out to ask if that meant she was still employed, said he wouldn't answer.) And in the most recent letter, he claims that during the phone call on 7.25 Vellmori said first she would resign.

Nobody believes that, not in the least because the Hankyoreh interviewed Vellmori the very next day about the unjustness of it. Any 'recording' of the call that he posits as evidence will likely reflect that, and work against him in court, so I'd love to see that actually. KJH apparently doesn't remember that.

4. Can you believe he's fudging his words to make it seem like the PMUA and those associated were the ones attacking employees? Not a single mention of DC anywhere. Now in court, if he's required to provide evidence as to just why Vellmori wanted to resign, well... DC did that. That's undeniable. All this started with wetsuit Ishmael, if anyone's forgotten. And if he admits DC was the reason a perfectly innocent illustrator was left jobless overnight, well, he can do away with his insistence that he was protecting her in any way.

5. And even if he twists legalese to claim Vellmori left of her own volition, it's nothing that hasn't been said by employers in the country a million times over. Advisory resignation this, political controversy that. It's still an unfair dismissal, and an especially rampant problem in the game industry that has been a long time coming to be dealt with.

6. Remember when KJH threatened Mimi and Monggeu with the mention of NDA, when they came out with stories of how they were horrifically mistreated by PM? Hypocritical, just revealing private correspondence with the YU without their permission. As well as the ridiculousness of treating the remnants of a negotiation that fell through like fact. He thinks people can't read, I suppose. It's more ammunition for the unions.

7. The inherent idiocy of evilmongering about 'politics' all thread long. What does KJH think unions Do? He's been fueling the fire regarding a labor rights case for near two months now, but doesn't seem to have learned much other than to dig deeper holes. What he means to do by repeatedly insinuating the PMUA and YU are secretly in cahoots when the PMUA has been open about working with the YU from the start I will never know.

8. Refusing to translate The Notice for 53 days was the first and biggest hint, I think. The radio silence, purposefully leaving international fans in the dark, threatening the contractors, the staunch refusal to name the incels for a single offense. During that time we learned Monggeu had been fired just as quickly as Vellmori, after being made to follow an unrealistic schedule to the point she had suicidal ideation. The workplace reviews in the wake of the incident saying KJH was prone to emotional outbursts. All the translators worked to the bone and abandoned, HHPP's manager announcing an apology with his name for decisions he couldn't have made. Those aren't the actions of someone who has his employees in mind.

The PMUA was created in response to PM's announcement to sue fans back in August. They'd held out hope that KJH would be someone who could see reason. But you'd have to be beyond naive to believe that now. So with all evidence piled up during these two months pointing to KJH being a nasty little guy who has only ever had himself and DC's best interests at heart, I sincerely hope KJH fucks himself over, and for all fans who are eternally confused about what PM has done wrong to be someday in need of a union.

[kaenbl4ze]

Hi! I just reread Read You Lima Charlie for the millionth time. It's probably one of my favorite SEAL Buck fics, and I've combed through the whole tag multiple times. I know it's a bit of an older fic, but do you have any plans on continuing the AU somehow? I'd love to read more of that AU or hear your headcanons if you have any!

Hello hello! Thank you so much, you have no idea how excited I am to hear that! Please do feel free to ask any and all questions about the AU or my headcanons and I'd be more than happy to answer <3

I know it's been a hot minute (sorry heh work and life got a bit hectic) but I do have a draft of a fun little sequel sitting in my google docs which I've been writing on and off. Alas I am a perfectionist and also a slow writer so it's been in limbo.. BUT it is definitely there and almost done and will come out at some point! I hope!!

In the meantime thank you for reading and asking about it and being so patient and i love you so here's a little sneak peak action scene from the draft:

[tw graphic depictions of violence, blood/gore, death]

“Where’ve you been?” Steve’s eyes did a quick sweep over Buck’s body, analytical, checking for injuries. Noticed Buck’s empty hands. “Where’s your rifle?”

“I was doing the laundry!” Buck replied through gritted teeth, eyes wide with exasperation.

He looked back around the corner of the building as Steve spoke behind him; soldiers dragging off the wounded away from the blast site, his teammates spread around with the other troops and suppressing the flow of insurgents, a few enemy fighters slipping through the gaps in fire, spraying bullets into the base in wide sweeping arcs before being shot down. 

“I don’t have a sidearm to give you. Head back to the armoury, grab your shit – give Command the sitrep on your way.”

Buck hummed in the affirmative, still scanning the combat zone, and was about to turn around and heed Steve’s instruction, but at the last moment caught sight of a combatant sneaking around behind a stack of crates. Slung over the man’s shoulder was a rocket launcher, and time seemed to slow as he swung the weapon around, gripped it tight, and levelled it at a cluster of infantrymen.

Buck saw red.

“Buckley!” Steve hissed, clawing at Buck’s sleeve in an attempt to stop him from sprinting towards the stray tango, but Buck slipped through his grip. He was too fast. Too focused. The last thing he heard was Steve muttering under his breath, “I swear that Kid is not right in the head.”

Planting a foot against a wall mid-run, Buck used his momentum to bound off and vault one-handed over the crates. He was airborne for half a second before colliding with his target in a spear tackle, bringing them both tumbling to the ground. The launcher clattered across the floor, and the two men engaged in a tangled mess of hand-to-hand combat.

Buck channelled his silent rage into the fight – got the large man into a grapple, caught an elbow to the mouth in the process, twisted the man’s arms as he yanked at Buck’s clothes. Buck had no gun. But he remembered, belatedly, that he did have a knife. Regrettably not one of his fixed-blades, but a folding knife that he had slipped into the pocket of his shorts a few days ago while rearranging his loadout. It would have to do.

The guy was a dirty fighter, strong, but he was sloppy. Poorly trained. More holes in his form than swiss cheese, and Buck fully intended to exploit them.

Buck ate a punch straight to his nose; didn’t let the sharp flash of pain or the momentary blur in his vision slow him down. He lunged straight for the opening in his opponent’s stance that he knew would be left undefended, torquing body mass and manipulating limbs to get the man into a one-armed chokehold against Buck’s chest. He quickly reached into his pocket with his free hand, flicked the lever to deploy the blade, and plunged it deep into the man’s neck right where Buck knew his jugular rested. 

With a jerk of his arms, simultaneously pulling the knife towards himself and twisting the man’s head away, he was met with a spray of hot blood and a wet gurgle.

Steve rounded the crates with his weapon raised right as the body dropped to the ground with a dull thump. Buck hung his head, catching his breath from the exertion and letting the blood from the blows to his face drip from his nose and dribble out of his mouth. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip to cut off the string of bloody saliva, then spat out the viscous mess into the sand. Beside him, Steve strode forward, glanced down at the body, and exhaled sharply through his nose.

In his peripherals, Buck caught a flash of movement. He whirled around instinctively, and in the same motion whipped his arm and let the blood-slick knife fly out of his hand. 

Two bullets from Steve’s rifle landed at the centre of the combatant's chest just a moment before Buck’s blade hit its mark, buried up to the hilt in the hollow of his throat. The man stumbled, eyes wide, and collapsed to the ground as his legs buckled beneath him. His weapon flew out of his hands in the fall, and his momentum carried his body a couple more feet before it finally slid to a twitching stop.

Buck straightened, scrunching his nose tentatively and sniffing. A deep buzzing sensation underscored the cacophony of battle around him, heartbeat steady and powerful in his core, fingertips thrumming with energy, vision crisp and vibrant. He blinked. Then, he turned to Steve, nonchalant.

“I had that.”