#the house the sports car. he probably orders the most expensive things on menus just because he can try it

[jamiesfootball]

In my mind, Colin’s glass house is to Colin what Jamie’s gold balloon dog statue is to Jamie

[peachiimilquetea]

PEACH PEACH CAN U WRITE SMTH ABT A BEACH DAY W OBEY ME BOYS!!! EITHER ALL OR ONE ILY BFF

the obey me brothers go to the beach!

a/n: these are super cute and quick, i hope you like them! most of my hcs for the brothers are a lot more... harsh? idk i like bullying them but this was a fun exercise to familiarize myself with their personalities and whatnot

you can also tell who i like the most in these i think FDSBJKFDBSJKF

lucifer!

this is oddly specific but lucifer strikes me as the type to wear a swim shirt

or like one of those full-body swimsuits that end as biker shorts??

like this

he also wears a shit ton of sunscreen and bothers others to do the same

very much drill sergeant vibes when he tries to get everyone out of the house on time in order to beat the traffic

has a fucking itinerary that nobody follows FDBSJKBDSJK

mostly stays on the beach with a book or just looking out for his brothers

hates the water but loves the tranquility that the beach provides

so he takes the day to relax

but i can still see him trying to get work done while at the beach and you have to force him to put his shit down

"diavolo literally gave you the day off what are you doing"

"its just an expense report, it'll be done quickly i promise"

"give me the notebook lucifer,"

"but-"

"GIVE IT"

mammon!

MY BABY UGH

i see mammon as a "wheres my hug" ass dude

so he probably likes the beach purely bc he can grab people and throw them in the water like a fucking caveman

he will pick mc up and throw them in the ocean, laughing like a maniac the whole time

also wears obnoxious sunglasses

"mammon are those really necessary? they're a little... tacky"

"you just don't know, fashion mc, asmo said they look nice hmph"

very corny but he will make everyone stay later so he can watch the sunset

takes like 20 pictures in the exact same spot and then never uses them again

ALSO USES A METAL DETECTOR LITERALLY RUNS AROUND THE BEACH TRYING TO FIND SHIT HE CAN PAWN OFF

"mammon that's a penny"

"yeah but it could be worth millions!"

leviathan!

mans doesn't even bring a swimsuit BYE

it takes the strength of all the brothers (and lucifer's wrath) to get him to leave the car

spends his time on the boardwalk buying corny souvenirs or sitting next to lucifer on his phone

gets burnt bc he's never outside and doesn't listen to lucifer and asmo when they urge him to put on sunscreen

tries to make everyone go home early but nobody listens FBSJKFDBSJk

attempts to make sand sculptures of some of his favorite characters bc he saw people do it online and he thought it was cool

draws in the sand as well

people come over to watch him work and admire it bc its actually pretty good

then he gets his shit kicked over by a little kid and then just gives up

you have to console him GSHJDHJFK

satan!

like a cat, i don't think he likes the water either

despises the water actually

i can see him playing beach volleyball with beel tbh

he's actually pretty good

also explores the boardwalk with levi, altho he doesn't buy any corny shit

if a there's a nautical-themed bookstore in the area, you'll never see him again

but in most cases he sits to read with levi and lucifer

likes to watch the animals do their thing

i can see him getting a hermit crab or a fish bc of how cute they are

"they're like the cats of the ocean!"

hates when mammon tries to mess with him and attempted to drown him once so mammon doesn't try shit with him anymore FSBJKFSBJ

asmodeus!

OBVIOUSLY HE TANS DUHHHH

probably wears the skimpiest little cheekster bathing suit too in order to "eliminate tan lines" or like a thong

OR he wears one of those giant straw hats in order to keep the sun off him

yk what, maybe both

he also collects saltwater to go home and make at home beauty treatments

collects seaweed as well

makes you help him hunt for pretty seashells to make jewelry and accessories with

"this one looks so nice with your complexion! here, put it in the bag!"

but mostly lays around tanning and flirting with people who stare at him

bc lets be honest whos not staring at him??

beelzebub!

i hate to be cliche but

this fatass is tearing the boardwalk UP

mans is harassing the icecream truck, eating various crab boils, and finishing all of those gimmicky challenge menu items that the restaurants have to offer

did they pack lunch?

yes

is he gonna still spend money and buy more food?

also yes

mc: "beel they call it the triple twist burger of death are you sure you want it?"

beel, who has already finished it: "huh?"

they either love him or hate him bc he eats a shit ton but that also means he PAYS a shit ton and who doesn't like money???

once he sees people going to the beach and catching their own shit, he's SOLD

hunts for crabs and wrestles big ass fish he finds in the ocean

would definitely start a bonfire to roast the food under the open air

plays sports with random people he meets and probably does calisthenics??? like those mfs who do chin ups and walk in the air???

i can see him doing that

belphegor!

doesn't do anything

sleeps in the sun

almost gets left behind bc everyone just assumes he's already in the car

likes to float in the water on a giant donut

almost like lazy river style

makes beel watch him to make sure he doesn't drift too far out to sea

doesn't like to get up too much but will get involved from the sidelines

like if asmo asks his opinion on a seashell or if the boys need someone to be referee for their volleyball game

keeps everyone's spot when they need to go do something

treats the beach like every other day he has tbh

i can see him letting mammon and asmodeus bury him in the sand and literally not even caring FBJSDKBJK

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Jeon Jungkook

+Genre: rags to riches au, kind of college au, SFW, slow burn, WIP.

+Word count: ~2.2k (for this chapter)

+Chapter: Prologue | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | ?

+Summary:

“Funny how even in this ridiculously absurd situation, life had made Taehyung a third-wheel. Or a sixth.

If Bangtan Dry Cleaning was his fairy godmother, Jimin his little mouse, the jacket his magic dress and the club scene his ball, where the fuck was his prince charming?

A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.”

+Warnings: very cliché, very unrealistic.

+A/N: betaed by the amazing @shadowsremedy​ 💖

It all started innocently enough.

“I can’t believe August D and Hope are a few miles away from here, and I won’t be able to be in their general vicinity.” Jimin signed for the nth time after looking at his twitter feed.

Taehyung looked over at his friend, curious as to what had his friend in such a low spirit that night. “Why? Are they doing a gig somewhere around?”

“Even sadder.’’ He sighed again, putting his phone away and aggressively zipping up a garment bag. ”They’re hanging out at Octagon tonight, and well, Octagon’s cover to access the VIP lounge is 150,000 won, so completely unreasonable for my wallet. Plus, I’ve got nothing to wear that doesn’t scream ‘I’m a dirt poor struggling make up artist’. Even if I somehow found a way to get the money, I would never be allowed up to the VIP floor, not with Octagon’s dress code.”

Taehyung was about to morosely agree with his friend when the zipper of the garment bag he was zipping up got stuck on the Versace dress stored in it. Something hit him then. A beam of light brought things into a new perspective. Or maybe it was the fluorescent?

He was closing up shop in a place full of luxury clothes, some pieces more expensive than a whole year of his rent, and none of it would be missed by their owner for the night.

Bangtan Dry Cleaning, Gangnam’s all-time-favorite dry cleaner for VIPs to drop off their barely worn high-end brand pieces, was closed on the weekend. He and Jimin were the last men on scene since their boss usually left early on Friday nights.

Having the keys to the shop also meant having access to an unlimited amount of resources; clothes that could easily be borrowed for a few hours, refreshed over the weekend, and found undisturbed by their boss on Monday morning.

Ok, so maybe the idea had been slowly simmering inside of him for months.

“What?’’ Jimin pressed, pout deepening. “I know that look, Tae.”

“Say the clothing part was covered, would you have enough for the regular entry fees?”

His eyebrows pinched in confusion, trying to understand Taehyung’s point.

“I guess? But that would be useless, I doubt they’d hang out with the regular people. They’ll probably stick to the VIP section… ’’

Taehyung’s lips slowly crept into one of his signature mischievous smile.

“I think I have an idea.”

Jimin took one look at him and shook his head violently. “Last time you said that we had to hitchhike for four hours in the rain in the back of a pick-up truck to get back home. I might be poor, but I have a pretty face to maintain. You don’t get to have ideas anymore.”

“Jimin, just this once, you’ll have to trust me.”

About an hour later, dripping from head to toe in designer clothes carefully selected by Taehyung, both men exchanged perplexed looks.

“Is this what it feels like? To be rich? I’m pretty sure I could buy a year's worth of groceries with my outfit.” Jimin said, scratching his head with stiff movement, feeling out of place in his newly borrowed Gucci bomber jacket.

Taehyung was messing around with his blazer, a million-something-won Christian Pellizzari piece he had his eyes on since he’d seen it earlier.

“That jacket you’re wearing is worth 5 million won alone.” He said, then caught his friend’s reaction in the mirror.

“Five what now?” Jimin repeated, face going pale and body tensing up like any wrong movement could rip the jacket apart. “I want it off,” he said, voice quiet but with a cutting edge. “I’m not doing this.”

“Hey, look here,” Taehyung grabbed him delicately by the face, both hands framing his jaw. “Jimin. Jiminie. We’ll have to be careful, but everything will be fine. It’ll all be fine.”

“I’m not so sure. 5 million won, Taehyung. Million.”

“We’re literally the person to come to if anything gets stained. We got this. Plus, you look amazing! And if we play our cards right, you might get to meet with- with … Automne D and-“

Jimin couldn’t hold back a small snicker, finally relaxing a little. “Agust D.”

“Yeah, that's what I said. And, huh,-“

“Hope.”

“Yes, exactly. Now go get your makeup case, you got two faces to beat.”

While Jimin was counting the creased bills in his hands, making sure he had enough for the regular entree fees, Taehyung was observing the entrance of the club on the other side of the street. The line was slowly getting longer, while no one was let in. They would not make it inside anytime soon, his friend’s favorite musicians probably long gone by then, but Jimin didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Jiminie?”

“Hmm?” He said, not looking away from his small change he was now recounting.

“You remember those jeans I made for you, perfectly tailored to make you look bomb-ass-tic?”

“Why are you bringing that up, Tae? That was ages ago, I told you I was sorry I ripped them-”

“That’s not the point,” Taehyung said, now facing his friend. “Remember how you walked in those? Like the weight of the world’s beauty was pushing your chin up and making you look like a stuck up asshole?”

“A beautiful one, yeah.”

“I’m going to need you to walk like that again. Channel that beautiful stuck up asshole.”

“Ooohkay..?”

“Now, let’s go.”

“Wait, I think I’m missing a bill.”

“Put your money away. If we do this right, you won’t need it.”

His friend made an interrogative noise but pushed the money back into his (borrowed) pocket nevertheless.

Then, after making sure Jimin was following with his chin high as the sky, he started walking the walk, the same walk he taught the students that modelled for his collection at the traditional end of semester runaway.

Taehyung crossed the street without looking, ignoring Jimin’s muffled shrieks as he made his way to the entrance. The bouncer, a 6ft superhuman looking man, probably hearing all the commotion of cars braking and honking, was now making direct eye contact with him. Taehyung held it coldly, going for ‘unimpressed important person’. Celebrities were usually let in for free, right? So if they could manage to pass off as some idols, maybe they could make this plan work. New groups were popping up left and right these days; with their looks, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for people to assume Taehyung and Jimin were members of a group or something.

He knew his neutral face made him look kind of intimidating, all he was hoping for was for Jimin to not freak out.

Without a word, once the street was crossed and most of the people in line had gone silent looking at them, the bouncer took a step aside, opening the rope barrier and nodding them in.

Not risking a look back at his friend, Taehyung patted the bouncer’s shoulder on the way in, hoping the man wouldn’t notice the slight tremble of them.

The bouncer followed them in, sidestepping them to whisper something into the ear of a big burly man posted inside. Taehyung couldn’t hear anything over the loud music, but he didn’t like it.

He didn’t know how but they had somehow made it inside without paying, and all he needed now was to find a way to get into the VIP lounge. The look on the big burly man’s face though, it wasn’t good.

The bouncer went back to his post outside, leaving them with the literal tank standing in front of them and blocking their access to the rest of the club. He was studying them with a crooked eyebrow, something nonchalant in his look.

But if Taehyung was good at something, it was mirroring those kinds of looks.

“This way, sir.” He finally said after stretching the minutes, barely loud enough to be heard over the loud thumping of the bass playing somewhere further into the club. He felt Jimin’s cold hand grab at his wrist but followed nonetheless. The worst that could happen would be to be kicked out.

Which is not what happened.

They were led through a narrow hallway and up a little staircase, then through a door with another bouncer. And then, they were in a room with a whole wall made of glass that overlooked the main dance floor.

Sitting in the softened light of the luxurious lounge were a few people, conversing among each other in various corners of the room furnished with little couches and tables.

Taehyung could make out at least five famous people, and the rest were probably rich chaebols who got to hang out with them.

Somehow they had ended up in the VIP Lounge much sooner than expected, and Taehyung suddenly started believing in miracles.

They sat on one of the empty couches, a drink menu rapidly dropped in front of them.

“Tonight is on the house.” The tankman said as parting words and promptly disappeared.

An attractive waitress took his place only a fraction of second later, sporting a cool smile.

“What could I get you, sir … ” She said, dragging the last vowel in a question.

“Kim.” Taehyung said, “And Park,” He added. “Just sparkling water for now, please. Thank you.”

The waitress bowed slightly before disappearing behind yet another door, leaving them alone save for the people softly conversing among themselves.

“I think I’m gonna pee my pants in excitement,” Jimin whispered, voice going high. “Is this what you meant when you said you had an idea?”

“Up until that part where they let us in,” he said, voice equally as soft. “I have no idea how we ended up in the VIP lounge without paying. Didn’t even have to try.”

“Maybe they mistook us for someone else?”

“Maybe? she asked for our names, though.” Taehyung took the drink menu to look like he was doing something. Truth is, he didn’t know how to act. He felt like ordering the wrong drink would out them as poor people. Most of the bottles listed on the menu went over 200,000 won, though. “D’you think ordering a somaek will blow our cover?”

“We don’t even know what our cover is!” Jimin said, panicking a little. He suddenly didn’t look so excited to be there. “They clearly think we’re something or somebody we’re not.”

“Breath Jiminie.” He said, putting a hand on his knee. “You have got to stay calm. We aren’t robbing a bank here. We just somehow got really fucking lucky. Plus, they said it was on the house, we can drink things tonight we will most likely never get to drink again.”

As if on cue, the waitress showed up with a tray, unloading it with graceful and practiced movements, starting with two crystal tumblers in which she delicately dropped perfectly shaped ice cubes with some golden ice thongs. Then, she set on the table a cone-shaped bottle adorned with little crystals, and topped off with a literal crown-shaped cap.

After she was done pouring their glasses, she retreated behind that same door.

“Jiminie. Jimin. What the hell. That’s Fillico.”

“What?” He said, reaching for the tumbler and bringing it up to his mouth, the excitement of the night making his throat feel parched.

“That bottle of sparkling water is worth almost 250,000 won.”

He froze, mouth going tense, and put the tumbler back down. “Honestly, this night is getting too much for my heart,” Jimin said, just as the most handsome man they had ever laid eyes on appeared in front of them.

“I just heard the most fantastically hilarious rumor.” The man said without waiting for introductions, amused smile making his handsome features look childish. He had his hands on his slim hips, body framed by a Balenciaga outfit. The loose t-shirt stretched by a set of wide shoulders made it look classy yet comfy.

He carried on, not letting them speak.

“Apparently, terrifyingly handsome heirs of a mob empire are sipping sparkling water in my VIP lounge. Would you happen to have seen them?”

Jimin and Taehyung shared a look of understanding, the reason they were sitting where they were sitting finally dawning on them. After a stretch of silence, the man’s amusement not receding, Taehyung finally answered.

“It’s the eyeliner, isn’t it?” He said, aiming for vague.

The man’s smile grew.

“Now, maybe my petrified employees might have mistaken you two for scary mobsters, with that blue steel look in your eyes, but I went to school with a bunch of heir and heiress of the mafia and I know one when I see one. I bet you two aren’t.”

Jimin shrugged as their only response, which prompted a peal of laughter from their interlocutor.

“I’m Kim Seokjin, my family owns this place. I’ve never seen my employees so terrified. It’s very entertaining, especially our bouncers. They’re all combing the web for information on the family trees of the main mod clan of Korea as we speak.” He sat down with them, presenting them his hand.

“Park Jimin,” his friend said, reciprocating the hand. “I can play up my Busan satoori if you want.” He added with a shy smile.

“That would be fantastic. Maybe fake a phone call where you make super vague allusions to things that seem illegal?”

“Just tell me when.” He answered with a small laugh. Then Seokjin turned his attention to him.

“Kim Taehyung,” he said, “My satoori is less intimidating though.”

“Just keep your handsome face neutral and you won't have to talk to scare them.” Seokjin said with a wink, making Taehyung try to hold back a blush.

“Is it your first time at Octagon? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you guys if you’d been here before.”

“We don’t really go out… But-”

“Jin-Hyung!”

The three of them turned around to watch a small group of people approach. They all looked familiar to Taehyung, but he couldn’t remember from where. It’s only when he saw Jimin’s face, blank with shock, did he remember the original reason why they were sitting in a VIP lounge, drinking 250,000 won sparkling water, dressed in borrowed luxury clothes and chatting with someone who probably made three times their monthly salary in a minute.

There, walking toward them, was the rapping duo August D and Hope, and their equally talented and acclaimed friend RM.

And that moment was the beginning of the beginning.

Previous chapter | Next Chapter 

[preyed-llama]

Starlight

Words: 2358

Ship: prinxiety

Genre: fluff

Summary: 2 in the morning was a good enough time for an adventure, right?

Warnings: mentions of a weapon, and food mentioned

“You’re insane!” Virgil whisper-shouted at Roman when he opened his window. Roman grinned and jumped. His arms tensed as he pulled himself through Virgil’s window. The room was dark, full of purples and blacks. Tons of posters hung on the wall as the cat plushie Roman had gotten him sat by the pile of deep purple and black pillows.

A smile grew on his lips as he pulled Virgil into a hug and spun him around. “I’m not insane! What could go wrong!?” Roman said as he slowly lowered Virgil to the ground. Virgil glared at him, his shaggy black hair was over his light brown eyes. His skin didn’t seem as pale as it usually did due to the black eyeliner already being wiped away. He pressed a kiss to the glaring teen’s nose.

The blush bloomed on Virgil’s uncovered cheeks as he let out a huff. “Well… we could be murdered… or kidnapped… or attacked, or robbed, or spotted.” Virgil listed off. His fingers played with the hem of his oversized jacket. Despite his cute habit, he was glaring up at Roman still and saying it in a harsh tone of voice.

Roman rested his hand on Virgil’s cheek. “We wouldn’t be attacked in any way. There are two of us and we’re strong. It’s going to be okay, My Dearest Emo.” He dropped his hand and walked over to the drawers. Virgil’s switch blade was closed in the bottom draw, he hardly ever touched it. Roman put the blade into his pocket and turned around. “See, I have a weapon. Well be safe.” He stepped closer to Virgil again. “Besides, it’s night, no one will spot us.”

Virgil thought about it for several moments before he rolled his eyes and kissed Roman. “Fine. But if I get murdered I’m haunting you, and if we get spotted I’m denying it ever happened.” Virgil said with a sigh as he wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck and rested his head onto his chest. Roman’s chin rested against Virgil’s head as he let out a sigh and hugged him tightly.

Virgil stepped back and rubbed his thumb over the back of Roman’s neck and tried to fight a smile that threatened to bloom on his lips. “Well, I do believe we have a date to be on.” Roman said as he moved his hand from Virgil’s waist and gestured to the open window. Virgil rolled his eyes and moved his hands away.

He turned around to the corner of his room and pulled on his ripped jeans before he tossed his oversized jacket onto his bed. He had a lilac purple t-shirt on underneath and his hair was rustled from the jacket he took off in a rush. He moved to the mirror and drew some wings really quickly. They were neat and quickly applied out of habit. He turned back to Roman before he walked over to the window.

He peeked over the ledge and frowned. “I still don’t know how you do this easily.” Virgil mumbled. He pulled on his purple converse and slung his leg over the frame. He hesitantly put his foot down on the roof. Roman followed him out and walked down to the edge.

With some quick movements he dropped from the roof and onto the decking’s fence. He kept his hand gripping the gutter as he turned to face the grass and stepped off. The ground was a maximum of a meter drop from where he was standing on the fence. The air was cold against his skin, although only his face was bare. It felt nice and relaxing. The moonlight was casting shadows around the yard and the beautiful garden Virgil’s parents have been grooming since he was young.

“Um… some help… please?” Virgil’s voice broke through his thoughts. It was filled with hesitancy. Roman glanced up to see Virgil clinging on to the window sill, his legs were trembling as the breeze jostled his hair. He glanced around, perhaps Mr Sanders would have a ladder out the back, he’d learned not to question what they did or didn’t have since the day he discovered they had a sledge hammer and not a screw driver. (That wasn’t the first time it had happened, although it was the last time he had questioned it.)

A panicked yelp resonated from the roof. Roman looked up to see Virgil start to slip. He opened his arms and tried to calm down the other teen. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Virgil. Deep breaths. Drop down, I can catch you. It’s okay.” Virgil still seemed hesitant, but he lowered himself to the roof and shuffled over to the edge. Roman could almost hear Virgil’s heartbeat in the silent night. Although it could be his own heartbeat. He could feel his hands shaking, he didn’t want to look away from Virgil to check.

It happened in a flash. Virgil dropped and scrunched his eyes up. Roman tensed for the impact. Virgil opened up his eyes to see Roman looking down at him with a fond smile. “Hello, handsome.” His arms were wrapped around Virgil’s waist and his shoulders. “I told you I’d catch you, although I didn’t expect you to fall for me so quickly.”

“My hero.” Virgil said sarcastically. He pressed his lips against Roman’s in a chaste kiss before he moved out of his grasp and dropped to the ground. He rubbed his hands up his arms to try to stop the goosebumps from blooming on his skin. Roman draped his jacket over Virgil’s shivering frame. It was too large on him, although Virgil still threaded his arms through the sleeves and let the sleeves into sweater paws.

Roman might’ve cared about the cold if his boyfriend wasn’t swimming in Roman’s red jacket with a blush almost as red as the jacket itself. They threaded their fingers together and walked towards Roman’s beat up car. The breeze was nice and Roman couldn’t help but feel overjoyed about the situation. Him and Virgil only occasionally got to be romantic, like in Virgil’s bedroom when his parents weren’t home or under the school bleachers after sport. It felt so secretive for holding hands and sharing kisses. Virgil wasn’t out and Roman wasn’t going to force him out of the closet before he was ready. Even if it meant to had to avoid pulling him close in the hall or kissing the scowl away.

They climbed into the car and Virgil immediately connected his phone and took over the music. Roman grinned as he pulled the car into gear and took off down the street. He winded down his window and turned up the radio as Virgil watched the city lights pass them.

It was quiet and empty, but their small town wasn’t much to look at when it was 2 in the morning on a Saturday. The only people to be seen would be stumbling back from a random pub. Traffic was almost non-existent anyway, so barren streets were nothing to wonder about. Stars littered the sky surrounded by inky blackness. Virgil always loved the night sky. Roman hardly ever saw the appeal, what’s so special about night? Daytime has everyone awake and like colours painting the sky.

Virgil had explained the night with so much excitement that it seemed like the stars had been moved from the sky. He had talked about the peace and the hope. About how the lights were just so gorgeous. Roman nodded and hummed along, but as Virgil stared at the sky and continued to speak about the beauty of it, Roman had found himself unable to look away. Virgil had stopped his rambling when Roman pressed a kiss to his cheek. It had been the first night they had gone out together and had sat in the park after the movie. He still held the day close to his chest and he almost wished he had taken the photo of Virgil when the stars were in his eyes and his smile beamed brighter than the moon.

The drive lasted some time before Roman pulled up outside a 24-hour diner. Virgil didn’t take his hand as they walked inside and sat down. “I didn’t bring money.” Virgil mumbled. Roman gave him a look. “Listen, you pulled me out of the house when I was going to sleep. It’s not like I planned this out.”

He smiled and winked. “I’ll pay, don’t worry.” Roman said smoothly as he rested his hand on the table. Virgil glanced down before he glanced out the window with a blush on his cheeks and rested his foot against Roman’s.

A tired waitress walked over and set down two menus before she walked away. “Time to find out the most expensive thing on the menu.” Virgil said as he glanced at Roman. Roman let out an unprincely sound as Virgil smirked. “You offered.”

They looked over the menu in silence. The diner was a quaint little thing with harsh neon lighting and a 1950’s aesthetic going. The food was good, although Roman figured he’d get something basic, Virgil seemed to have come to the same conclusion. Roman ordered two milkshakes (a vanilla and a chocolate, because he’s not a heathen like Virgil.) and some fries to split.

Virgil’s eyes seemed to be darting around a lot at the beginning before he slipped into a comfortable conversation about a movie he had watched a few days ago and about an interesting fact he’d found somewhere. Roman found a smile growing on his lips as he interjected the odd occasional comment or question. He had slipped into asking Roman about practice and the upcoming play. They were so distracted, they almost missed the food being set down, almost. Virgil immediately started drinking his vanilla milkshake (and occasionally dipping chips into the drink, like a heathen).

Roman drank chocolate milkshake before he pushed it towards Virgil. “Try some.” Virgil rolled his eyes and continued to drink the vanilla. Roman grinned and pulled the vanilla milkshake away from Virgil and took a mouthful. Virgil let out a defeated sigh and drank some of the chocolate. Roman let out a triumphant ‘whoop’ that probably brought far too much attention towards them.

With a blush Virgil pushed the drink back to Roman. “That is disgusting. Give me the heaven back.”

Roman let out a gasp and pulled the chocolate close. Virgil immediately took the chance to take his own milkshake back. “Take it back, you heathen. Chocolate is the most delicious flavour.” Virgil rolled his eyes and glanced outside again. Roman followed his gaze and felt his body loosen. “It’s really pretty tonight.”

“Just like me.” Virgil said without missing a beat. Roman smiled and agreed. The conversation flowed peacefully between them as they continued to relax in each other’s company. The soft music in the diner helped the room feel safe and secure. Virgil had even held his hand under the table. He rubbed his thumb over the pale skin on Virgil’s hand as he stirred his drink with his free hand.

Virgil didn’t meet his eyes as a blush continued to bloom and a smile continued to grow. Roman felt his heart hammer as he tapped Virgil’s hand. “Can I kiss you?” Roman muttered. Virgil glanced around before he nodded. It was chaste and soft, but it was enough to make Roman’s legs turn to jelly and his belly spawn butterflies. He moved back and sat down properly again.

Virgil smiled at him fondly and rested his chin on his hand. The food was mostly gone, but neither teen had made a move to leave. They continued to talk about any subject that popped into their heads, by the time they had moved onto the third tangent, they couldn’t remember what the others were, although it never mattered that much.

At almost an hour the two left the diner hand in hand. They walked towards the car again before they went to the park near Virgil’s house. The field was always quiet and peaceful. They walked to their quiet patch under a nearby tree and sat down together. Virgil took off Roman’s jacket and set it over Roman’s shoulders before he rested against Roman’s chest. “Tonight was nice. Could we do it again?” Virgil asked. A yawn escaped his mouth a few moments later.

“Of course, Starlight.” Roman said with a smile. They kissed for the third time that night. Virgil’s lips were soft against his and seemed to fit with his perfectly. He opened his mouth slightly and moved his hands to Virgil’s hair. The breeze was cool as the only light came from the few stars in the sky and the only warmth came from each other.

Virgil pulled away and rested his head against Roman’s neck. His breath danced across his collarbone and sent a shiver down his spin. He moved his hands down to Virgil’s sides.

They laid against the grass as Virgil pointed out all the constellations he could recognise. They spent hours like that, their arms around each other as they mumbled about stars and each other. Roman listened to Virgil mumble about the plants and star signs as he spoke about the myths behind them. It made Roman’s heart skip a beat whenever Virgil got truly passionate about something.

The sun had peeked over the horizon by the time they finally moved. Roman walked him home and kissed him goodbye at the door. Virgil ducked inside with a smile and the promise that he’ll message him later.

Roman stepped away from the two-story building and watched as the sun continued to paint the sky in shades of pinks and oranges. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he walked to his car down the street. Virgil’s music was still set up in his car as he drove home. The city was waking up to the sound of birds chirping and soft lighting. Roman wanted to share a sunset with Virgil one day, maybe he could make Virgil love the day just as Virgil had made him fall in love with the night.

Authors note: first fic in awhile, haha. 

Taglist:  @thequeensqueer @sander-sideblog

[marshmallow-phd]

My Soul to Keep

Genre: Demon AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kris Wu

Summary: Kris never had a problem with what he was. He’d bargain and make deals with mortals in exchange for their souls. It was just the job. But when an assignment puts you in his path, he’s suddenly questioning his existence. As the consequences of his choices catch up with him, how much in harms way will you be?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I Final

**

You were pacing back and forth to try and get rid of all the pent up energy that refused to let you go. The clock ticked closer to six and in your nervousness and anxiety, you’d gotten ready almost an hour before you needed to. That just made the knot in your stomach worse. What if he didn’t show again?

Stop it.

You had a bad habit of just assuming the worst. Especially of people. Maybe because animals were so predictable and human beings weren’t.

Knock, knock, knock.

In a record flash, you were at the door, nearly flinging it open.

Kris stood on your porch, hands in the pockets of his expensively tailored trousers. Your face heated up at how well put together he was. You hadn’t wanted to seem like you were expecting a five star restaurant so you’d taken one of the few dresses you owned and slipped it on. Seeing Kris in his all black ensemble made you feel vulnerable in your pure white dress. However, the look he gave you was one of admiration.

“Surprised I actually made it?” he teased as you stared too long.

You shook your head, perhaps a little too much. “No. Not at all.”

He chuckled, motioning back behind him with his head. “Come on. Don’t want to be late to our reservations.”

Nodding, you grabbed your purse and followed him down your drive after locking up the house. The car that was parked in the street made you want to turn around and go back in the house. It was a jet black, two-door sports car. Even as Kris opened the passenger door, you hesitated.

“Not afraid of a Stingray, are you?” he provoked.

Pouting your lips, you slid onto the leather seat as gracefully as your terrible balance would allow while keeping any childish comebacks to yourself.

Most of the drive to the restaurant was silent. You fidgeted in your seat, playing with the hem of your dress and watching the buildings zoom by.

“Midnight seems to like it with me.”

You whirled your head to look at Kris, whose eyes were still on the road. “Really?”

He nodded. “Granted, I think he sleeps most of the day.”

Giggling, you replied, “Well, I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that cats sleep about two-thirds of their lives, so that doesn’t really surprise me.”

“You really like animals, huh?” His eyes flashed over to you, then down to your lap before going back to the street ahead.

Your cheeks burned as you pulled on your dress, trying to cover up more of your very exposed legs. “Yeah, I’ve always loved them. Much to my mother’s dismay.”

“Did you ever think about becoming a vet?” Kris asked as he tapped his thumb on the wheel, waiting for the light to turn green.

You shrugged. “I’m not smart enough for that. Too much book work and I can’t concentrate long enough to really study. Plus, I don’t think I’d be able to handle putting down a sick animal. I’d probably break down and cry every time and someone else would have to do it.”

“What if that puts it out of its misery?”

Sighing, you looked over at him, meeting his eye. “I still couldn’t do it. I value life too much. Shouldn’t the animal have a chance to get better before you just decide its life needs to end? What if you put it down and the very next day, a cure is found and it could have lived another five years happily and healthy?”

Kris just stared at you, unblinking, mouth hanging open just a bit. The way his eyes didn’t leave you was making you squirm in your seat, although you weren’t sure if it was because you were uncomfortable or because of something else. Even a car honking directly behind you didn’t break his gaze.

“Uh, Kris?”

Your voice seemed to finally snap him out of it.

“Yeah?”

You pointed to the traffic light. “It’s green.”

“Right. Right.” He took off like a bullet, staying silent the rest of the way.

Things returned to somewhat normal once you reached the restaurant. Your jaw dropped once Kris helped you out of the car and handed the keys to the valet. As Kris took a step towards the door with your hand resting in the crook of his arm, you stayed back. Confused, he turned to look at you.

“(y/n)?”

You pointed to the restaurant and then gestured to yourself. “I am so underdressed for this place.”

“Don’t think about that,” Kris urged, tugging you inside.

He gave the hostess his name and after finding it on her list, she asked for the two of you to follow her, giving Kris a very inappropriate once over before actually placing the menus down on the table in a somewhat seductive manor and throwing you a dominant smirk. Kris didn’t miss a single action of hers, frowning and rolling his eyes. The pretty hostess caught the look and immediately deflated.

“Your waiter will be right with you,” she said in a flat tone, not even looking at either of you before stomping away back to her post.

You wanted to laugh as you sat down but instead nearly choked on nothing once you say the prices printed on the menu in your hand.

“Don’t even think about saying anything regarding the price to eat here,” Kris murmured, not even looking up from his own menu. “I like the food here and I stood you up, so don’t argue.”

You slumped in your chair with a hmph until you remembered exactly where you were and straightened back up again. The waiter came to get your drink orders and the two of you settled into a comfort conversation.

Kris spoke little about his job, just saying that he mostly specialized in contracts and beneficiaries. You told stories of different animals at the shelter and how you were thinking that, now that you had a house, you would start adopting the older ones since they tended to be looked over for the puppies.

Even as the food arrived you both still continued to talk. You’d never shared this much about your life with someone, childhood stories and embarrassing fashion choices. But you had done a good job avoiding the subject until you were so lost in making Kris laugh that it just came up.

“And I was stuck on top of the shed because the chair had fallen over!” you exclaimed.

Kris let out a throaty laugh. “Why did you even go up there?”

“Because I thought it was the best position for my telescope!” you argued, trying to sound reasonable when that was impossible. “So, anyway Han had to come get me down and my da-”

You stopped, suddenly filled with memories of Han and how much he liked getting you in trouble. You were your daddy’s little girl, so often he would run to Mom who treated you both equally. Tears were prickling at your eyes and you took a sip of water to distract yourself. You thought you were done crying.

Kris reached out and grabbed your hand that had was resting next to your mostly empty plate. His fingers were warm and swallowed your own. You never realized how long his fingers were or how wide his palm was. Like a reflex, your still-free thumb caressed the back of his hand. How could this stranger feel so comforting?

“Your brother was a rare kind of person,” Kris whispered.

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Kris cleared his throat, straightening up and taking back his hand. “I mean, I’m sure your brother was great person. I’m sorry - about him passing away.”

You frowned, tilting your head to the side as your fingers traced the rim of your wine glass, just the stains of the red drink left inside. “You didn’t know my brother, did you?”

“No,” he shook his head. His voice was steady, sure. “I didn’t know your brother. I barely knew your aunt.”

Nodding, you took him at his word. But there was still a little voice in back of your head that raised up doubt. It was the way he phrased his sentence the first time around that kept you from believing him fully.

Dinner had gone back to a more cheerful atmosphere after that. You declined desert more for your stomach’s sake than for Kris’ wallet.

Walking out into the night air, a chilly wind had picked up, sending goosebumps up both your arms. You let out an involuntary chatter at the sudden coldness. Before you’d made it two more steps, Kris was slipping out of his jacket and draping it around your shoulders.

“Don’t even try it,” Kris warned the second you opened your mouth. Pouting, you decided to just go with it, pulling the fabric in closer to you.

Strange. Where one would expect the jacket to be warm considering he’d been wearing it for hours, it didn’t radiate body heat. It wasn’t cold, per se, just a neutral temperature. Like it’d been left hanging in a mild room for a while and you’d just now put it on a human body.

The car ride home was quiet; a comfortable silence. Your eyes flickered to where Kris’ hand was resting on the gear shift. The urge to hold his hand again – for longer, this time – was making your fingers itch, but you kept that hand firmly in your lap due to an amazing amount of will power.

Kris parked in your driveway, but didn’t take the keys out of the ignition or even turn off the engine. A sure sign that this was where the night would end.

“Thank you,” you said politely. “For dinner.”

“All is forgiven?” Kris asked playfully, ruining the formal atmosphere.

You smiled, unbuckling your seat belt. “Of course.”

Kris grinned in return. “Good.” Undoing his own restraint, he got out of the car and came around to open your door. All night, he’d been a gentleman and you still weren’t used to it.

Walking with you up to the front door, Kris’ closeness was making your heart pound. You unlocked the door with surprisingly steady hands. As soon as the door was open just a crack, you turned to your escort.

“Thank you, again.” You weren’t sure what else to say, an awkwardness settling in. Part of you was hoping that he would lean down, maybe press a chaste kiss to your cheek? You could just feel that he wouldn’t dare do more.

Kris opened his mouth to say something, a harsh line appearing between his brows as if he were trying to decide on something. He sighed, putting both of his hands in his pockets. “Good night, (y/n).”

A strange mixture of disappointment and elevation swept over you. Perhaps it was in anticipation of a possible next time.

“Good night, Kris.”

You didn’t stay to watch him go back down the drive, instead rushing into your house with lightning speed. The door shut with a harsh click. You leaned against the cold wood, taking long breaths to try and calm your system. Kris’ jacket was still around your shoulders. Pulling it off and gripping it in your hands, you peaked through your shades just in time to watch him speed away. You glanced down at the jacket, smiling to yourself. At least it’s another reason to see him again.

**

Kris banged his fist against the steering wheel over and over again as he sat in the gravel path that led up to the mansion.

Idiot. Idiot. Fucking idiot.

He was supposed to let you go, say “goodbye, have a nice life”. It’d been a fight inside all evening, especially after you’d talked about wanting the animals to live. The smarter part of him had won and right there on that porch he would let you down easy. But then you looked up at him with those innocent eyes that just seemed to shine and he lost the will to do it. He was in trouble. Deep trouble. And he damn well knew it. But for some reason, he couldn’t – wouldn’t – get out of it.

Was this because he’d never stepped a toe out of line? He was never rebellious, never broke the rules, so now subconsciously he was trying to break them all at once?

Leaning back in his seat, Kris stared at the dimly lit mansion. He’d have to go in sooner or later. Maybe if he just shifted into his room then–

Tap, tap, tap.

The sudden noise against the driver’s side window made him jump. Yixing was holding back a laugh as he stepped out of the way of the door when Kris swung it open.

“What do you want?” Kris snapped, slamming the car door shut with more force than he’d planned after cutting the engine and getting out.

Yixing shrugged. “You’d been sitting out here a while. Tao got worried, but didn’t want to get in trouble for disturbing you. I volunteered to come out instead.”

Kris slipped his hands into his pockets, allowing just one corner of his mouth to slip into a crooked smile.

They were an odd set up, the twelve of them. Most demons assigned to the same area kept to themselves, preferring not to interact with each other, but they all decided to ban together, to relieve some of the loneliness of this life. Was their presence no longer satisfying that craving?

“I’m fine,” Kris sighed. He motioned with his head to their home. “Let’s go inside.”

Nodding, Yixing step forward to go back, but then stopped. “Aren’t you going to grab your jacket?”

Kris froze. Shit. He forget to get it back from you. He kept his face neutral as he replied, “I didn’t wear one.”

Yixing frowned, confused. “Huh. Weird. Could have sworn I saw you leave with one on. I must have been thinking of another day.”

“Probably so.” Kris hurried on ahead so the younger demon wouldn’t see the mixture relief and worry on his face. If he really is going to keep this charade up, he was going to have to be more careful.

[el-borealis]

All The Things Left Unsaid

Read on AO3

Jopper One-shot: Summer 1985 

Words: 4,326

--- 

Joyce had given into her anxiety and turned off the engine to the car fifteen minutes prior.

She was on her fourth cigarette, but her guilt only grew with each puff. What good were cigarettes anyway, she thought with annoyance, if they no longer worked to calm her down. She prayed that Will hadn't looked out the window.

Nothing had changed on the Wheeler's front stoop, which she had been watching like a hawk for the last thirty minutes. No monsters, dark clouds or government officials. Yet still, here she was.

The late July sun was just starting to set, yet the incoming night was still swelteringly hot. She hung her bare arm out of the window in an attempt to catch a bit of breeze but there was none to be had.

A rumbling engine tore around the corner in front of her. Joyce smirked. Hopper's Blazer with 'Police' emblazoned across the side was definitely going over the speed limit as it appeared on the Wheeler's street and came to an abrupt stop on the opposite curb.

"Ok, what are the rules, kid?" Hopper's voice carried out of his open window.

"I'm late! You took too long," El whined, already opening the door to her side of the car.

"Rules?" he replied gruffly.

El huffed, "Stay inside. Don't use my powers in front of anyone. Tell the Wheelers my name is Jane and I'm your niece," she stated in a glum monotone, "Can I go now?"

"Be back out here at 10, no dawdling," he said, making Joyce smile warmly at the overwhelmingly fatherly tone.

"Dawdling?" El asked.

"Oh, it'll….be your word for tomorrow. Don't be late," Hopper replied, rubbing her messy curls with his bear paw hand, "Have fun, Kid." Joyce watched as El smiled, said goodbye, jumped out of the truck and dashed to the front door of the Wheelers so fast you'd expect she was being chased. Hopper watched her keenly the whole way, his eyes falling on Joyce, directly across the street from him, as El slipped through the doorway.

"You too, huh?" he asked from his seat as he pulled out a cigarette.

Joyce nodded and leaned her head out of the car window, "You know me. Where else would I be? I might as well build a bed for myself in the backseat of this car at this point."

Hopper snickered as he held his hands up to light his cigarette, "This parenting shit, man. It's a racket."

"Ah, but it's worth it to feel the love when they wake you up after a double shift to ask for 20 bucks," she retorted with a dark smile.

"I haven't gotten that far yet. Now I have something to look forward to," he replied. He took a deep drag from his cigarette and let out a lazy puff of smoke as silence settled between them. "Say, Joyce," he said, his voice carrying a hint of hestitation, "Wanna get some dinner? I could kill a patty melt right about now."

Joyce, surprised by the invitation, took a guilty look at the house, "Well, I should probably leave here before the Wheelers call the police on me for stalking. So, sure."

"Well, considering it would page directly to this," he said, lifting the receiver of his CB radio, "I think you're safe. Get in over here, I'll drive?"

"Okay," Joyce replied. She fumbled for her purse, leaned over and manually rolled up each of the windows, and locked up the car. She took one final anxious peek back at the Wheelers' home, which still had not burned down or fallen into an alternate dimension, and made her way to Hopper's truck.

She felt like a child as she attempted to step up into the tall cabin of the vehicle, hoisting herself forcefully, laughing in the process.

"Having some trouble?" Hopper asked with a hint of sarcasm as he held out his hand to assist her. She took it gladly and pulled herself in, yanking the door closed behind her with a loud thud. "Where to?" he asked as he put the truck in drive.

"Oh, I don't know," she stuttered, "You're the hungry one. You pick?"

Hopper nodded in acknowledgement and pulled onto the road as Joyce worked to buckle her seatbelt. She peeked over at him as he turned a corner and couldn't help but notice that he was dressed… nicely. He was sporting a pressed light blue button-up short sleeved shirt tucked into nice jeans, and his thinning hair was combed and tamed, unlike his usual hat head of flyaways.

"Something fancy happen today? You look nice, Hop," she said with amused surprise.

"What, a guy can't try sometimes? What do you take me for, a slob?" he responded with his patent dry humor.

She didn't respond but rolled her eyes casually and sat back into the seat.

Hopper turned right down Sycamore Lane, "So, how you been, Joyce? Don't think I've seen you since the we were chain smoking outside the Wheelers this time last month."

Joyce shrugged and worked to fill him in on the comings and goings of her and the boys. Mostly the coming and goings of the boys, to be honest. The truth was Joyce's life had been quite quiet in the nine months since everything had happened in the fall. Honestly, she'd needed it that way. But at this point she couldn't help but notice that her devotion for her kids, combined with her work schedule and her need for alone time, had turned her into a bit of a recluse, and she was admittedly going a bit stir crazy. Dinner with Hopper was probably the most exciting thing she had done without her boys all year.

After a short drive he pulled into the parking lot of Sheila's Bar and Grill on the main drag of town. "This place good?" he asked, looking over to her for approval as his fingers rested on the keys to cut the engine. Joyce gulped. It was one of the two nicer restaurants in town. Which sure, wasn't saying much as this was Hawkins, but still. She couldn't help but feel underdressed in a ratty tank top and old jeans, her hair still pulled back in a messy pony tail from cleaning the house all day. Plus, her wallet was a lot less full than she was comfortable with for a real restaurant. Though Sheila's was only two blocks from Melvald's, she'd never stepped foot inside. It had always been just a little too expensive for her to rationalize taking the boys.

"Am I… dressed appropriately for this place?" she asked hesitantly, her eye falling on a rip in the knee of her jeans.

Hopper laughed and brushed off the question as he opened his door and cut the engine, "Don't worry about it. Of course you are. Besides, even if you were wearing a flour sack you'd be the prettiest girl in there."

Joyce felt herself blush in surprise at his words and hoisted herself out of the truck to the ground.

He opened the door of the restaurant for her and she snuck under his arm to enter. The restaurant was lively, but not packed, filled with families, middle aged couples and a couple groups of old men sharing war stories in the back submerged in a cloud of smoke.

"Evening, Shelia," Hopper called to the elderly woman behind the bar. Sheila, a sweet looking woman in her 60s with twinkling eyes, looked up from the bread baskets she was filling with a wave. Her eyes widened as she spied Joyce.

"Well, little Jimmy Hopper," she said with a kind smile as she sidled her way out from behind the bar and beckoned them to follow her to a booth by the windows. "You clean up well, Jimmy. Can't remember the last time I saw you bring a date in," she whispered quietly to Jim, though not quietly enough for Joyce to miss it, as she nudged him with her elbow like a nosy Aunt.

Joyce felt her cheeks redden in a silly way that belied her age, feeling slightly awkward by the misconception. Jim audibly groaned, "Alright, Sheila. Alright."

Sheila smiled at Joyce brightly as she laid menus on the table and patted the booth seat, "Here you go, dear. Y'all have a nice dinner," she said with a wink. Hopper stepped back to allow Joyce her choice of seats and dropped himself into the seat facing away from the door.

"This place is nice," she said as she surveyed the deep red wooden walls and ceiling.

"You've never been here before?" he asked, picking up his own menu. She shook her head. "Well then, you're in for a treat," he continued, "Sheila was my mom's best friend and she makes the best rolls you've ever tasted." He lifted the bread basket in offering.

They fell into companionable silence as they searched for their choices on the menu, Joyce munching on what was admittedly great bread all the while. After a few minutes a slight teenage girl with overwhelming Farrah Fawcett hair, who Joyce recognized from Jonathan's grade, approached their table for their order.

"I'll have the patty melt and fries," Hopper said as he handed her his menu, "and a Schlitz. Want a beer, Joyce?" he asked.

She hesitated, worried about driving later, but once again remembered she was with the Chief of Police, "Why not," she replied with a playful shrug, "and I'll have the…" she paused, realizing she had never made a decision, "Same. I'll have the same."

"Two Schlitz and two patty melts it is then," the girl said with a placating smile as she scribbled on her pad, "Be right back."

Joyce fumbled with her napkin for a moment and focused on lying it on her lap. A twinge of awkwardness pouring over her at her unexpected dinner. She looked up to find Hopper watching her closely.

"So," she said quickly, trying to change the subject from her own insecurity, "how's it going with…" she looked around and leaned in to whisper, "Jane."

Hopper nodded and took a bite out of his bread, "Well, she hasn't blown out any more windows, so I'd say it's going well. I sneak her out of the house right about the time I can tell she can't take it anymore," he shrugged, "Only a few more weeks now and then she starts school. That's gonna be weird," he said with a nervous sigh as their beers arrived, "Thanks."

"Aww, old Dad Hopper," she teased as she patted his hand, "It'll be fine. She's a good kid, Hop. And she's got good friends who will look out for her."

"Yeah, and its ample alone time with one of those 'friends' that I'm worried about," he said with an eye roll, "Do you know that Wheeler kid showed up at her window last Saturday and tried to get her to sneak out into the woods with him? I practically had to chase him off and Jane wouldn't talk to me all day. That boy is getting too brave, I tell ya."

Joyce laughed gleefully, "If I recall correctly," she said, wagging her finger accusingly in his direction, "that sounds a lot like someone I knew who tried the exact same thing to me when we were seniors. I think my Dad had to use a broom to scoot you off of the roof, if I remember correctly."

A guilty look passed over Hopper's face as he fought back a smile. "Yeah, seniors in high school," he said wryly, "Not the same."

"Touche," She shrugged in relent as she took a swig of her beer, "She could do worse, by the way. I've known that boy since he was five. He might mouth off sometimes and yes, he might be a little reckless, but he's the most loyal and dedicated friend Will could have ever hoped for. He's a good kid, Hop."

Hopper sighed, "Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I have to enjoy this."

"Well, just feel lucky that you didn't walk on your kid naked with his girlfriend last week," Joyce said, shuddering at the entirely horrifying memory that she attempted to drown with another swig of beer.

Hopper winced, "Ooooh, I do not envy you," he said with a bleak laugh.

"Well," she said, raising her glass, "At least we're in it together now. Parenting teenagers is a trip."

Hopper shrugged and shot her his classic beleaguered smile, "Cheers to that," he said as he clinked her glass.

The evening continued on effortlessly, any awkwardness she might have felt melting away at their easy conversation and the presence of beer, much as it had always been since their first chapter as teenagers. She listened with rapt attention as he told her about renovations he was making to the old cabin and as he bragged with the sweet pride of a father about the success Jane was having with her tutoring.

"Want another?" he asked as the waitress came around with their meals.

Joyce looked down to find her glass surprisingly empty, "Oh, I shouldn't," she declined bemusedly, her head swimming a bit from the single drink. It was amazing how much of a lightweight she'd become in her forties.

"Neither should I," he replied, playing with the glass in his hands before looking up with a trademark glint in his eye, "Split one more?"

Joyce chuckled and nodded after a pause, "Sure."

"Atta girl, Joycie" he said jovially before turning to the waitress, "Just one more, thanks."

"You're a bad influence," she accused as she reached for the ketchup.

Hopper barked with a loud cracking laugh, infecting her with its suddenness as she broke out in her own giggle, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Well, I'm not sure I meant it as one…" she retorted, "but all the same."

He shot her a coy look in response, making her insides jump nervously, surprising every nerve in her body. She blushed as she quickly forced her attention on her meal, as her mind began to run in a very unexpected direction.

Nice restaurant. Nice outfit. Combed hair. Extra round of beers. That look he just gave her.

No.

No way.

Maybe?

Not possible.

"So, how's work been?" Joyce asked lamely, seeking any benign topic that would help her get her bearings back as the beer arrived at the table. She swiped it immediately and took a healthy swig.

Hopper groaned and launched into a dull story about his deputies.

She didn't hear a word of it. Instead, her mind launched itself noisily into a frenetic beer fueled tizzy.

It had been years since she had seen that look on Jim Hopper's face, but it wasn't something she could really forget. In fact, it was emblazoned on her memory like a trigger.

It was the same look he would shoot her across the biology classroom every Friday of senior year. A clandestine invitation to skip fifth period for a rendezvous of cigarettes and a heated make out session underneath the bleachers.

The same look he wore when he talked her into going to prom with him despite her father's wishes, egging her on to disobey how grounded she was... because they'd been caught having a rendezvous of cigarettes and making out under the bleachers.

The same look was on his face his final night before shipping out to Vietnam, as he appeared at her window and beckoned for entry. She had let him in willingly and he had stayed all night, wrapped up silently with her body, neither of them knowing if they would ever see each other again.

And here he was, all these years later. After so much shit and so many winding roads. Sitting across from her chatting about his daughter, his house, his town, all back at the scene of their old crimes. Giving her that look again.

…and she hadn't worried about the boys in at least forty-five minutes. It might have been a record.

His shirt looked incredibly good on his biceps.

"What?" Jim asked in surprise.

"Huh?" she sputtered, shaking her head, unsure of where they were in the conversation.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked in amusement.

"Oh…" she said, a twinge of embarrassment playing across her face, "No reason. Sorry,"

"Ooookay," he said, eyeing her suspiciously,

She drained the rest of the beer.

"You know you drank that whole thing," he pointed out amusedly as he pushed his plate to the side and sat back in the booth.

"Did I?" she blanched in surprise, "I'm sorry!"

"Nah, it's fine," he said as he waved his hand to dismiss her worry, "Drunk Joyce is cute. Plus, it's probably good for the town to see the Sheriff driving sober."

"Yes!" she said emphatically, "That's why I did it. I drank this beer as a service to our community!"

Hopper's laugh boomed through the restaurant, and she smiled shyly in return, entirely overwhelmed by the situation. The truth was, he'd always had that affect on her. She had always lived just a little more dangerously in his presence. It was an odd trait, she regarded through her foggy mind as she watched him laugh, because he also made her feel incredibly safe.

The check appeared at the table as his laughter subsided. Joyce reached for her purse, but before she could rummage out any cash, the girl was already gone and Hopper was pocketing his wallet.

"My treat," he said casually as he rose up from the booth, "ready to go?"

"Hop, you didn't need to do that," she contested as she scrambled to her feet while digging in her purse for cash, "Here, let me pay you back."

"It's fine, Joyce," he said as his hand grasped her's firmly, stopping her from continuing her search in her purse. She jumped in surprise. He pulled away quickly and smiled reassuringly, "Just think of it as... prepayment for all of the Eggos you'll probably end up buying to feed my daughter once she's let loose on this town and ends up at your place after school. The girl is a monster for breakfast food."

Joyce laughed loudly as she followed him out of the restaurant, the quest for cash in her purse abandoned.

Hopper and Joyce walked to the truck in the parking lot. The night air had cooled down considerably, more than she'd expected. It was refreshing and worked to clear her mind. Hopper followed Joyce around to the passenger side of the truck. He unlocked the door and gave her a hand to hoist her up before shutting the door and crossing back to his side.

She took the five seconds of alone time to let out a huge exasperated exhale. What was happening? Her body felt hot and icy at the same time, betraying her into thinking she was seventeen again. It was… nice? Weird. Unexpected.

Hopper climbed into the truck, revved the engine, and pulled out without a word.

They drove in silence back to the Wheelers, Joyce working to calm herself, her brain and body swimming in a fuzzy intoxication.

Hopper's truck pulled up behind Joyce's car and he cut the engine. "Ahh… back in time to nervously watch the door while they overstay their curfew," he said wryly, pulling out a cigarette.

"Let 'em," Joyce said with a casual shrug, "they're only young for a few more years."

"Well, Joyce Byers," Hopper said with surprise, "If I didn't know better I'd say that beer loosened you up a bit."

Joyce just smiled, scooted closer to him in the big bank seat, and stole his cigarette, "Maybe I am."

The moments ticked by quietly as they shared a cigarette, watching the clock move closer to 10pm. Her heartbeat picked up paces consistently as their fingers mingled back and forth over the cigarette, and more so as Hopper's arm slid over the bank seat behind her, picking the cigarette from her far hand playfully when she hadn't expected it. His arm, however, did not leave the space once it had settled, and his fingers were now dangerously close to her hair. She could feel every minute movement.

The usual companionable silence that existed between them did not exist in this moment. Instead, the air felt thick, heavy and electric, as though unsaid words were floating through the air. Words that were suddenly knocking at the back of Joyce's teeth, fighting their way out of her lips and slipping through the cracks before she could stop them.

"Jim?" Joyce said suddenly, turning to him. His face was lit dimly by the street light. He looked softer than usual. Timid even. After a delayed moment he averted his eyes to the street.

"Yeah, Joyce?" he replied casually.

"Why are you dressed so nicely tonight?" she asked directly.

Hopper shrugged dismissively with a light laugh, but she could swear she saw the hint of a blush on his cheeks. He didn't respond, but merely shrugged as he took a deep puff on their cigarette.

"Well," she said after a moment, realizing she was not going to get her answer, "You look very nice."

The trace of a shy smile ghosted across his lips as he looked at her from the corner of his eye, shrugging in his trademark fashion, "Well, you always look nice. I felt like I had to try."

Joyce smiled as her chest warmed, "What does that mean?", she asked as she shuffled in her seat, turning to him fully and finding herself closer to him in the process. He did not look at her. She swallowed hard and her voice dropped, liquid courage pushing to the point, "Did you plan this?"

Hopper let out a nervous laugh, refusing to look in her direction, "Well, I didn't think I was going to get interrogated for it but-"

"Jim," she stated quietly. He hesitated, but slowly turned to look at her after a pause. His eyes were vulnerable and nervous. "Thank you for the date," she said quietly as she allowed her body to lean back into his arm. She felt his fingers brush her hair.

"Anytime," he replied quietly.

Maybe it was the second beer or maybe it was something more, but in that moment she had no hesitation. Joyce leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips, her right hand brushing against the tuft of his beard. It was chaste, simple and sweet. Nothing like the ravenous teenagers they had once been. Something stirred deep within her.

Hopper's eyes were wide with surprise, and a sadness laced through them that she couldn't place. He hesitated for a moment, looking directly at her as if he had just seen her for the first time. "Joyce…" he whispered slowly in his gruff tone, trepidation written across his brow, "did you mean to do that?"

Joyce's features crinkled in surprise as she laughed, "…Do you think I just fell on your face or somethi-" Her sentence ended in a breathless moan against his lips. In a flash, his eyes shifted from surprise to nervousness to unbridled longing. Before she could decipher his movement, his arms had wrapped fully around her slight frame, pulling her to him as though she weighed nothing at all. His lips were rough, unhewn. Her body flooded with a burning as she pressed deeper against his body, deeper against his lips, his large hand lacing through her fine hair as he moaned against her lips. He was still, as he'd always been, the absolute best kisser. A dam broke within her. Her hands reached around his neck as she pulled herself closer, her kiss containing things she could not yet express with words. Things that had bubbled, unindulged, beneath the surface for months, years, and while it was nerve wracking to admit, probably decades.

He breathed deeply against her lips and brought both of his hands up to cup her face softly. "Joyce…I…" he rasped as he laid his forehead against hers, his eyes closed lightly and his breath ragged, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

A long lost insatiable smile played upon Joyce's lips, her heartbeat racing, "Then do it again, Jim."

El and Will trudged up the stairs from the basement together, audibly grumbling because they had to leave earlier than everyone else.

"I can't believe it's already ten," Will sighed.

"I know," El griped as they reached the door.

Will swung the door open and held it for El to leave first. She stepped out and crossed a few feet over the lawn before stopping wide eyed in her tracks.

"El? What's wrong?" Will asked nervously, looking at her.

El pointed silently at the truck. Will gasped, grabbed El's arm, and pulled her back inside, easing the door shut silently.

"Was that what I thought it was?!" he asked, eyes s wide they were about to fall out of his head.

El nodded slowly, her mouth still agape in shock. Will pulled El down against the door out of eye shot. She peeked up ever so slightly, parted the curtains, and peered out quickly. She swiped the curtain shut with a gasp and slid back down the door.

Will breathed heavily as she grasped onto El's arm, "My mom… and your dad…"

"Yeah!" El exclaimed in a whisper, "He combed his hair tonight. For a long time. It was weird."

They sat in silence against the door staring at each other in shock. El climbed back up and peered out of the window again. "Still happening."

"Do you think that means they'll notice if we're late?" Will said suddenly, his tone changing from shock to mischief. El looked back at him, shook her head excitedly. The two scrambled to their feet and bee-lined for the basement stairs, laughing confusedly all the while.

[purplesurveys]

132

Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? Well I would personally never ever pay for a nail salon to work on me when it’s so easily done on my own, but you do you.

Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? No, I got my license on the first try. It was kind of expected of me since the drive to the government office supervising it was too rigorous a trip. It would have been a waste if i failed the test anyway.

Which do you like better - Zebra print or leopard print? A big nope for any animal print.

Do you have any stickers on your car? Yes, at the back I have a sticker for my university. In front of my car I have a sticker that lets me enter the village I live in, kind of like a membership thing we renew every year. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? I dunno who the former is and I kinda enjoy some of Lil Wayne’s songs so I guess I’d take that over someone I haven’t heard of.

Are you still a virgin? Nope. Blackberry, Droid, or iPhone? iPhone, although I remember when BBM was the shit like six years ago? I wanted a Blackberry so bad but never got one. When's the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut? My rough guess would be last June. My mom often gets Pizza Hut when she gets too lazy to cook on the weekend. Do you like diet soda? No. I don’t drink soda. What color are the walls in your room? They’re white, but if it had been up to me to choose they would be sky blue. Are you 16 or older? Yep. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars? I most certainly do not. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? Nope. I’m too scared to go higher than 80. How old were you the first time you drank alcohol? Name someone you've become a lot closer to recently: Doesn’t apply to me. I’m scared of new people, and the friends I do have I’ve known for years. I want to say my blockmates but I’m still excluded from most of their plans, so I wouldn’t call myself close to them. What was the last fight you had with your parents about? Something small and dumb that I forgot about by now. Do you have a job? Nope. Does your car have a sunroof? It doesn’t. Those are so expensive in the Philippines, plus the humidity is insane, so it’s ultimately unnecessary to get cars with them. What are your initials? RIAC. Did you ever have braces? I did, for a little over a year. It was short because my crooked front teeth were the only problem. Are you from the south? No. I’m from Manila, which means I’m from the west kind of lol. We don’t use directions that much to refer to where we come from though. What does your last status on Facebook say? My last status was like, back in 2013. Probably my first and only one too. Who was the last person to call you? Gabie. Do you tip your server when you go to a restaurant? You don’t have to in the Philippines. It’s your choice whether or not you want to; but for me personally, I would tip if the service was good. But again, it’s never expected, and certainly not frowned upon if a tip wasn’t made. Have you ever been to a foam party? I have! Alena’s debut had a foam swimming pool and it was one of the most fun I’ve had. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed? Yes, but she annoyed the fuck out of me just recently so no talking for now lol Are you closer to your mom or your dad? My dad. My mom has erratic moods so I stay away from her. My dad has sexist, close-minded tendencies and although that gets to me, he’s way more similar to me beyond those tendencies, making it easier to relate to him. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics? I mean it was mandatory in our PE classes in elementary/high school, but I never took it up as a sport.

What's the last movie you saw in theaters? Wonder Woman. Do you smoke? I don’t.

Would you rather wear heels or flip flops? Heels. Flip flops make the area in between my toes bleed. Is your phone touch screen? It is, like most phones today I would say. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly? I just let it be, I never put extra touches to it. Filipinos aren’t as attentive towards their hair. Are you ready for school to start back? It already did, but prior to it starting, I did feel excited. I liked my schedule and my subjects, and now that I’m back it’s been going really well :) How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? 20-30 minutes. Do you and your siblings get along? Yes, we do. I was terrible to my brother when we were younger but that was only because of the terrible influences and violences I witnessed in our old house. As soon as we moved to a better neighborhood, my behavior improved and nowadays I try to make it up to him by being a good older sister. Would you rather have a Mustang or an Escalade? I had to look up what an Escalade was, but turns out I like that one better. I feel like Mustangs are too loud and are more for car enthusiasts...but then again I have no clue what I’m talking about. When's the last time you went to the beach? This weekend when I went to Bohol. Have you ever snuck out of your house? When I was younger, a couple times. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool? I feel like lake would be most peaceful and clean. Have you ever made out in a car? Sure. ...Had sex in a car? Sure. Are you single or in a relationship? In a relationship. Do you listen to Pandora radio often? I don’t use that. Do you have a boy best friend? Hans is the closest to being my guy best friend, but I’m not confident enough to call anyone that. What were you doing last night at midnight? I was fast asleep. When's the last time you saw fireworks? Coldplay concert, April 4th. Do you like the camera on your phone? Yes, iPhone has decent camera quality. Have you ever had a friend with benefits? Nope, not the way I do things. What year is your car? Well I got it in 2015, so it’s on or before that year. It’s a newer brand of Mitsubishi Mirage. Who's the last person you cuddled with? Gabie. Feather hair extensions - Hot or not? Not sure what those are...probably not? Have you ever passed out from drinking? No. What did you order the last time you went to Taco Bell? I don’t know their menu all that well, but I know that I got some kind of burrito the last time I was there. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate? A lot of them I actually hate. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Hah no. Name your favorite Kesha song: TiK fuckin’ ToK. Do you have any tan lines right now? Barely noticeable. I got the slightest bit tanner over the weekend, but my tan lines are like mostly nonexistent. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts? Nope. Are you friends with any of your teachers on facebook? Yes, a couple of high school teachers.