#their wardrobe is so big it freezes the game but look at how amazing they look

[my-alternatevy]

headstart to pumpkin season

[leviathanswingman]

love is a losing game, chapter 1: seasons change

It was one foolish night where Lucifer had let his emotions slip. Nothing more than that. How everything had turned into this big mess that seemed to be his life right now, Lucifer couldn't quite tell. The fortunes must really like tormenting him, he mused as he was sprawled over a toilet seat, nauseous to the core.

It was Friday night and for once, Lucifer was free since he had finished all of his work right on time . Normally, he would have additional paperwork to go through because of his brothers' wrongdoings but for once, they had miraculously behaved this week.

Sitting in front of his desk, Lucifer stretched his aching muscles until he could hear his bones pop in a satisfying manner. It had been a while since he'd had a week this relaxing.

Slowly, he started to clean up his desk, filing away papers and retrieving all the stray pens and paper clips that were spread out on his desk. Just as he finished, the doors to his study flew wide open.

Unfazed, Lucifer looked up to see who had intruded ever so rudely. He was used to his brothers barging in like that from time to time, seeking him out with foolish requests and random nonsense.

This time however, it was none other than Lord Diavolo himself. Honestly, Lucifer found himself less surprised than he'd expected himself to be.

„Lucifer!“ Diavolo crossed the room with confident steps until he stopped right in front of Lucifer's desk, slamming his hands onto the table with too much energy. „Word says you're free today?“ he asked with a smile on his face.

„Good evening, Diavolo. You are correct, I've just finished all my tasks,“ he answered, standing up. Diavolo simply smiled at him and for a moment, there was an awkward silence between them. With a sigh, Lucifer crossed his arms and gave in. You really had to pull everything out of this man's nose. How troublesome. „Why are you asking?“

„Well, we haven't been able to meet up much recently, so I was thinking dinner at Ristorante 6? What do you think?“

Lucifer thought it over for a second. Indeed, they hadn't been out in a while.

„Sounds good. Just let me get changed and then I'm ready to go.“

A big grin spread over Diavolo's face. „I'll accompany you to your chambers, if that's alright.“

„Of course.“

They left together and while Diavolo waited in front of Lucifer's chambers, Lucifer quickly changed into his everyday wear and fixed his hair. For the first time in weeks the reflection in the mirror didn't look sleep deprived and tired, but rather lively almost.

He joined Diavolo and together, they made their way towards Ristorante 6.

„Lord Diavolo, Lucifer! What a pleasant surprise!“ the waiter forced out nervously as he bowed deeply, his body forming a perfect ninety degree angle. „The usual table?“

„Yes, that would be the one, thank you.“

The waiter lead them to their usual table, a table for two which was located in the back of the room, granting them a little bit of privacy. After all, Lord Diavolo and Lucifer were quite well known and respected around Devildom. However, that never stopped curious demons and reporters from being nosy. Especially the reporters were like vultures looking for their next title stories, so Diavolo and Lucifer had to be cautious.

They ordered their food and chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company. Minutes turned into hours and before they'd noticed, hours had passed.

„It's getting quite late. I think it's time we head back,“ Lucifer finally said and Diavolo nodded in agreement. He paid for both their meals under Lucifer's protests and left the waiter a charitable tip.

The night air was crisp now as seasons were slowly changing. Lucifer shivered slightly as the cold air hit his cheeks.

Diavolo, au contraire, wasn't bothered whatsoever. Due to his astounding powers he was constantly warm, his body radiating heat like an oven.

Although Lucifer was a demon through and through, it was undeniable that his circumstances were slightly different from Diavolo's. Truth was, to Lucifer's dismay, certain aspects from his former life as an angel had stubbornly remained.

Heaven had always been neither cold nor hot, but rather clean and bright and neutral. Angels rarely experienced different seasons except for when they visited earth, so there had never been the necessity for their bodies to adjust much. The weather changes in Devildom however were brutal and quick in nature.

Soon after his fall from heaven Lucifer had realized that despite him being a demon now, that part of his former nature hadn't changed; his body's heat regulation was definitely lacking and barely existent. Refusing to confess this weakness of his, Lucifer hadn't told anyone about it, not Barbatos and certainly not Diavolo.

Even though Lucifer had kept quiet about it by now Diavolo had probably figured it out though. When you've known somebody for decades you tend to notice little details like that.

Subconsciously, Lucifer rubbed his hands together, trying to create warmth as his breath showed in icy puffs in the air. Of course, he could just cast a fire spell, but that would be way too obvious now, wouldn't it? With an annoyed tut he buried his hands in his coat pockets as he strolled down the dark streets, Diavolo close nearby.

All of a sudden, Diavolo pressed his side closer to Lucifer and smoothly let one of his hands slip into Lucifer's coat pocket. Warm fingers interlaced with icy ones.

„Diavolo, what is the meaning of this?“ Lucifer asked with furrowed brows, feeling Diavolo's body heat warming him up little by little.

„It's fine, no one will notice.“ He nodded towards their hands. „See?“ Diavolo's hand firmly grasped Lucifer's, hidden in the folds of his coat pocket, making it look as if they were simply walking a bit too close to each other.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat and abashedly, he tore his gaze off the coat pocket. With a sigh, he let it slide. He was too cold to argue and deep down, he didn't mind this at all. Not that he would ever admit that out loud though.

„Fine, just this once,“ he grumbled as he turned his head, hiding an ever so slight smile on his face.

It was a thirty minute walk to the house of lamentation, but in good company, it felt much shorter than that.

As Lucifer and Diavolo arrived and he begrudgingly let go of Lucifer's hand, Diavolo lingered in front of the gates. Lucifer turned around to him, his cold fingers resting on the doorknob.

“Today was nice, wasn't it?” Diavolo mused. “Did you have fun, Lucifer?” His eyes shone piercingly in the dark of the night.

Lucifer tried not to shiver too noticeably as he let go of the doorknob and paid full attention to Diavolo again. “Of course,” he answered as he hid his hands in his pockets. “It's been a while since I could take it slow for an entire evening, so thank you.”

“No need to thank me! I'm just glad you had fun! However, it's pretty late already and I'm afraid I have a request to ask of you,” Diavolo started, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Would it be too much to ask if I could stay over tonight? It's cold and I don't feel like walking back home.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow in silent question but didn't inquire any further.

Normally, he would've sent Diavolo home, used to his sudden childish outbursts and outlandish requests. Tonight however, he felt quite comfortable and relaxed, so he decided it would be fine to humour Diavolo this once.

“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the guest rooms. It might take some time though.”

A lazy smile spread on Diavolo's lips and he grabbed Lucifer's shoulders, letting his hands linger for a moment too long. “That's my Lucifer, thank you!”

Lucifer coughed into his hand. “Diavolo, didn't I-”

“Why don't we go inside then?” the demon prince interrupted Lucifer, way too energetic for that time of the day.

After Lucifer had informed the servants of Diavolo's sudden stay and was informed that the preparations would take them an hour at most, the two of them made their way up to Lucifer's chambers.

During daytime they would've spent their time waiting in the music room, but since it was night and Lucifer didn't want to wake his brothers or Yuuta, he took Diavolo up to his chambers.

Diavolo immediately threw himself onto Lucifer's bed without asking for permission, laughing as he spread his arms in a childish manner.

“Diavolo, should you, our future king, really act like that?” Lucifer asked as he mustered him exasperatedly. A sigh escaped his lips as he ran his hand through his hair. Over and over again he was surprised by Diavolo's carefree behaviour. Whether he was amazed or appalled, he couldn't quite say.

“Come on Lucifer! We're both off duty, so it's fine!”

“Don't you act the exact same way when you're on duty?”

Diavolo waved it off as he closed his eyes and relaxed. “There's nothing wrong with being honest,” he said with a smile on his face.

Lucifer simply sighed, deciding to let it drop. He felt a shiver run through his body and as he rubbed his arms, he weighed his options. After all, Lucifer knew his body wouldn't warm up as quickly as it should and due to their thirty minute walk home, he felt about ready to turn into an ice statue.

Option one was simple; wait it out until Diavolo's room was prepared and hope he wouldn't show any signs of hypothermia until then. Option two was the more honest one; he could just get changed into something warm and admit defeat when it was due.

After a moment of deliberation Lucifer decided on option number two. After all, he was quite sure Diavolo had caught on already. At this point, it was just Lucifer confirming his suspicions.

“If you don't mind, I'll get changed quickly,” he simply said, making his way towards his wardrobe as he saw Diavolo giving him a thumbs up from the bed.

This man.

Lucifer randomly grabbed the first thick turtleneck he found and

took off his waistcoat and dress shirt. For a moment, he just stood there, shirtless and freezing, when he suddenly felt another presence behind him.

“Diavolo, what are you doing?” he asked, not having to check whether he was right in his assumption or not. There was no demon with a presence even remotely similar to Diavolo's. Lucifer had spent year upon year with his demon prince, so by now he could recognize him by scent and presence in his sleep.

Suddenly, Lucifer felt warm fingers tracing over his back. They seemed to follow a certain pattern, carefully tracing raised skin with soft fingertips. The warmth of Diavolo's hands almost felt like fire on Lucifer's cool, porcelain skin.

With the softest of touches, Diavolo ran his fingers along the edges of Lucifer's scars; scars which were the only thing left where once there had been a majestic pair of pure white wings.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks as he realized what exactly Diavolo was doing, his head slightly lowered.

To this day, Lucifer could still remember the feeling of his wings being ripped off his body, could remember the terrible cracking sound filling his eardrums before the pain set in; a last flash of excruciating white before Lucifer plummeted into the comforting darkness.

Now all that was left were those memories and jagged scars.

Lucifer didn't move as Diavolo explored those scars of the past, almost caressing them.

This was the first time Lucifer had allowed anyone to see his scars so close up front, let alone touch them. Why he granted Diavolo this right, he didn't know. At any point, he could have interfered and asked Diavolo to stop. Truth was, deep down Lucifer felt safe enough with Diavolo to let him come that close.

He still shivered as Diavolo explored his back with kind hands.

Suddenly, Diavolo froze in his tracks as he spotted the thick turtleneck Lucifer had picked out. His eyes narrowed for a second before he realized how cold Lucifer had felt to his touch. Generally, Lucifer always had a chilly aura surrounding him, but today, his skin felt downright icy.

Diavolo softly grabbed him by the shoulders, making him turn around. He mustered him from head to toe before speaking up. “Lucifer, your lips are blue. Are you sure you're-”

Lucifer's cheeks were dusted pink, standing in stark contrast to his fair skin. “I'm fine,” he grumbled, but was ultimately betrayed by his chattering teeth.

“Fine, my ass!” Diavolo exclaimed as he pushed Lucifer forward by his shoulders. “You're coming with me, this is an order.”

Lucifer tried to protest as Diavolo pushed him onto the bed, climbing onto it after him. Before Lucifer could act up Diavolo grabbed a blanket, threw it around them and pulled Lucifer close to him, flush against his chest. He had Lucifer in a deadlock grip, arms wrapped tightly around Lucifer's midsection as Diavolo's knees touched the inside of Lucifer's.

“Diavolo!” Lucifer protested, but couldn't help but notice the way his body lost a bit of its stiffness as he was surrounded by Diavolo's warm body. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Diavolo pulled Lucifer even closer. “Nope. I'm keeping you right here until you've warmed up, since you seem to refuse to take care of yourself.”

Lucifer felt Diavolo's ever so hot breath graze his neck and shivered, but in a way entirely different than before.

“I do take care of myself,” he protested, which earned him one of Diavolo's trademark laughs.

“That was a good one, tell another one! Lucifer, you are the most competent demon I know but I've never seen you put your health first, not even once. So it's my duty to make sure you are not overdoing it.”

“Diavolo, I can assure you-”

Diavolo pressed his face into the crook of Lucifer's neck, shutting him up immediately as his lips momentarily grazed cold skin.

“Just let me take care of you for once,” he mumbled against Lucifer's neck.

Lucifer could feel his skin heat up where Diavolo's skin met his. His thoughts flashed back to moments before, to the way Diavolo had caressed his scars without any hesitation, without any judgement.

Quickly, he turned around in Diavolo's arms, now facing him. His eyes roamed over Diavolo's face, searching for an answer in his prince's eyes. Why would Diavolo go to such lengths and beyond? Was he trying to tease Lucifer or was he being genuine right now? Did he maybe have an entirely different goal in mind?

“What is your goal here?” he finally asked, torn between the comfort he found in Diavolo's warmth and his own inability to fully understand his superior's motives. “Why would you even-” he stopped as his eyes met Diavolo's and he found himself painfully aware of the situation they were in right now. This was way beyond your regular work relationship. He could feel the rise and fall of Diavolo's chest against his own naked one, could feel Diavolo's warm arms wrapped around his body. Lucifer was painfully aware of the way Diavolo looked back at him with a certain twinkle in his golden eyes.

Holding eye contact, Diavolo grabbed Lucifer's face with one hand and mustered him. “How haven't you noticed?” he mumbled, cheeks slightly red.

Ever so slowly, he closed the distance between them, stopping as he saw Lucifer freeze for a second. Before he could pull back again there was a change in Lucifer's eyes and the demon brought his hands up to the back of Diavolo's neck. Encouraged, Diavolo pressed his lips against Lucifer's. Slowly, he moved his lips and was delighted to see Lucifer reciprocate. Cold lips quickly heated up with passion as soft kisses tuned into more sloppy ones.

They spent their night taking delight in each other's bodies, leaving rough marks and blushing hickeys all over. As if a dam had broke, they completely lost themselves in passion, lost themselves in swollen lips, bruised hipbones and scratches down his back, lost themselves in their own world, pent up until they finally both found refuge in an ultimate union.

It was early in the morning hours when Diavolo hastily dressed himself, throwing one last look back at Lucifer's sleeping face.

Regret filled his chest as he looked down at the demon he had slept with hours prior.

“I'm sorry, Lucifer,” he mumbled as he pressed one last chaste kiss to his cheek. “Forgive me.”

He pulled the doors shut behind him as he made his way down the hallway, away from his right hand man.

Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Chapter 10

[chaseatinydream]

first kiss || j.wy (atz)

➵ pairing: reader x jung wooyoung (ateez)

➵ word count: 3148

➵ genre: convenience store date; confession; fluff

➵ synopsis: wooyoung just wanted cup ramen at 12:05am with a dash of seasoning “you”.

>>>

You’re startled out of sleep by the ringing of your phone.

For a moment, you’re tempted to reach for the accursed device and hurl it at the wall, but rational thought catches you before you can do so… that phone was expensive. Sitting up groggily, you push back the messy hair falling into your eyes and glare at your alarm clock. You feel like you’ve barely slept since the night before.

And with good reason, because it’s only freaking 12:03 AM in the bloody morning.

Your phone rings again and you scowl at it, willing it to somehow magically shut up so you don’t have to get up from under the warm covers of your bed, but alas, you don’t have any telekinetic powers and are required to crawl over to it like a poor, ordinary human being.

Flipping your phone around, you almost screech in agony as the unholy brightness of the screen seems to sear your eyes and you chuck it to the side. You barely got a glimpse of the Caller ID, but a mere glance at those first few letters is enough for you to know who it is.

Only one person is close enough (and also stupid) to call you in the middle of the night without fear of violent retribution the next day.

Grumbling to yourself, one hand fumbles for the device and you press it to your ear, burying your face into the plush pillows. You want to go back to sleep.

“What is it, Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung’s voice is much too cheerful for a Tuesday night, but its energy is infectious, as much as you hate to admit it. You don’t need to, he knows it already, that the longer he keeps you on the phone, the higher his chances are of you acquising to his often ridiculous requests. Knowing Wooyoung, it’s probably going to the nearest convenience store to buy ice cream in the middle of winter.

“Hey! How’s my favourite best friend in the whole world doing, Chin Hae?”

Honestly, you sometimes wonder if Wooyoung is a vampire. He never seems to sleep, living and thriving purely off a diet of caffeine and energy drinks and perhaps human blood. Maybe you should start wearing garlic the next time you see him.

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure San is at home cuddling with Shiber in his sleep.” You reply with a completely deadpan voice, not at all amused at being woken up so early at night. Early at night? Or is it the morning? Late at night? Why are you even thinking about this?

“Aww, you know that you’re my best friend.” You can practically hear the pout on his face over the phone and let out a massive snort, rolling over on your bed to stare at the ceiling, internally letting out a massive sigh.

Best friend. A goddamn best friend is all you are to him. Stupid Jung Wooyoung and his stupid pretty eyes, stupid pretty face, stupid pretty everything. The two of you had met a couple of years back when you’d first started college, seated next to each other on the first day of school. Upon glancing upon his face, you had nearly choked. Knife like jawline, near flawless skin, adorably big eyes behind rounded minimalist glasses, you had momentarily wondered what a model was doing in your school. He could pull off silver hair without looking like an eighty year old man, for god’s sake.

Next to you, no less. You didn’t like how he was making you look like a pig just by existing.

That had already been enough for you to instinctively dislike him, so when the professor had asked for all of you to introduce yourselves to each other, you had intended to give him some silly, standoffish answer and never speak to him again. You knew it was petty, yes, but who had given him the right to look so good?

No one. That’s who.

But to your absolute shock, the young man had simply grabbed your hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically, seemingly overflowing with too much energy to contain.

“You look like my new best friend!”

And everything had sort of… gone downhill from there.

Being Wooyoung’s best friend is somehow simultaneously one of the most beautiful and terrible things you’ve ever had to experience. He’s unbelievably kind, unlike what you had expected from such a pretty face, and possibly one of the most perfect beings to walk the surface of this earth. That’s the good part. You sometimes still can’t believe you’re friends.

The bad part is that you’re in love with him.

It’s no surprise, honestly. Who in this school isn’t in love with Jung Wooyoung? What you hate is that there are so many prettier, sweeter, nicer girls who all want a chance with your best friend, and you find yourself constantly grinding your teeth as they pass you love letters and chocolates with perfectly manicured hands, fighting the urge to throw them in the trash right before their eyes. You wish you could be half as bold as they are, but every time you so much as muster the courage to open your mouth to confess, Wooyoung’s breathless grin stops all brain activity and it just… somehow hasn’t happened for the last three months.

Swift and decisive, that’s you alright.

You scream into your pillow.

Best friend. Oooooh, you hate the sound of those words like it’s the screeching of the devil itself.

“Uhh, Chin Hae? You alright there?” Wooyoung’s voice suddenly drops in tone, a little more concerned and you’re tempted to chuck your phone out of the window while screaming obscenities to the heavens. He’s really not helping with this whole barely buried crush on him. In fact, you’re not sure how he hasn’t noticed. You’re pretty sure San already has.

But the phone. The phone is expensive.

You try your best to force a smile back on your face even though he can’t see it, raising the phone back to your ear. “I’m fine, Wooyoung. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you woke me up. Why exactly did you call me again?”

There’s a brief pause at the other end of the line.

“Do you wanna go and grab some cup ramen?”

You actually lift the phone away from your ear to stare at the screen, as if Wooyoung would be able to see your incredulous face somehow. “Wooyoung, it’s 12.03 in the morning.”

“12:05, actually.” Wooyoung pipes up unhelpfully in a hopeful voice and you groan, rolling out of bed as you search for something appropriate to wear in this ungodly temperature, hoping that your fingers and toes won’t freeze off in the meantime. Shivering and dancing around once your feet touch what feels like an ice block under your feet, the cool marble of your bedroom floor chills you to the very bone.

“Ah, cold, cold, cold!” You yelp, scooting over to the wardrobe as fast as you can, fingers rifling through your selection of puffy coats before they still momentarily on a furry collar. You glance down at your current outfit, a lumpy, knitted sweater and fuzzy socks with reindeer print on them. Maybe you should wear something that looks better in front of Wooyoung?

“Chin Hae? Hurry up, it’s cold out here!” Wooyoung exclaims into your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts. Sighing, you shake you head as you imagine your best friend with an adorable pout on his stupid perfect face, pulling out the thickest black coat you have, one that Wooyoung gave to you a couple of months ago. Then something strikes you.

“You’re there already? Without knowing whether I’d be coming? In this weather?” You say almost incredulously as you shrug on the coat, adjusting the sleeves to fit better around your arms, the phone wedged in the space between your cheek and shoulder.

“Well, I knew you’d come!” Wooyoung says proudly, voice filled with so much surety that you’re tempted to cry for a moment. Maybe it’s just your infatuation, but everything he’s said lately has caused butterflies to flutter in your chest. You both love and hate the feeling at the same time, but it’s not like you’ve had much control over it. “I’m such an amazing friend-”

“Are you stupid?” You grumble, slipping down the hallway and grabbing your boots from the door side. Wooyoung gasps dramatically over the phone at your words.

“How dare you? I am hurt, you know. Are you questioning my mental capabilities?”

“Every single day.” You retort dryly, opening the door only to get hit by a blast of cold air right in the face. Holy shit it’s so cold you’re going to turn into an ice popsicle before you leave the house and maybe you should just go back to that warm, comfy bed-

Wooyoung’s laugh and perky voice comes over the speaker, echoing in your ears. “I’m waiting for you! Be there or be square!”

Before you can protest that he’s absolutely off his rocker for thinking that anyone in their right mind would leave the comfort of their home in this near hellish weather, the call ends and you’re left staring at your phone in wide eyed shock. His contact photo blinks back innocently at you, cheerful, bubbly smile on full display with his arms thrown around your shoulders, the two of you splattered with bright green and red paint after finishing your art project a year ago.

“I’d take being a square any day.” You mumble, then you smack yourself in the head and groan when you feel your heart melting. You’re not supposed to be this whipped for him, damnit! But you can’t find it in yourself to get angry at him in the least.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You hiss vehemently at your phone. And as you stalk towards the convenience store with murder in your eyes, you can’t help but feel like you really need to get over this stupid crush on Wooyoung before he makes you do something stupid.

When you do reach the midnight convenience store, it’s open and you step inside, glad to be free from the bite of the icy winds. It’s absolutely freezing out there, how Wooyoung can come out with the most ridiculous of plans is something you love about him, but will probably never understand.

Standing in the aisle, you wave at the lone cashier at the counter, he’s playing a game on his phone but returns your greeting, and your eyes scan the rows of snacks and bottled drinks in search of your best friend.

“You made it!”

A frightened squeak leaves your lips as you startle at the noise. Then you see Wooyoung sitting at the table near the glass wall with five cups of ramen before him, an endearing shit eating grin on his face.

You smack him in the shoulder hard as you slide into the seat next to him, grabbing your own cup from him with a pout. Wooyoung chuckles in amusement, rubbing at his arm in mock pain.

“I can’t believe you made me come all the way here for cup ramen in the middle of the night.” You tell him with a scowl on your face as you open up the lid. Steam creeps over your numb fingers and warms them up, and you grab your chopsticks to eat your ramen as fast as possible.

After that trek through all that snow, you’re ravenous.

“Hey, don’t eat so fast or-”

Shoveling the piping hot ramen into your mouth, you nearly choke on the first bite as the noodles scald your tongue. Coughing, you set the cup and chopsticks down and you can hear Wooyoung laughing hysterically at your side, his high pitched laughter bouncing off the walls of the empty store.

“Stop-” You cough again and hit Wooyoung on the arm in embarrassment. God, you should have never left the safety of your house. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Alright, alright.” He stifles his chuckles, passing you an uncapped bottle of iced coffee. Grumbling about betrayal and false friendships, you snatch it from him and down what’s left, his warm hands coming up to rub your back soothingly.

“You’re wearing those socks I bought you last Christmas. You swore you threw them out the second you unwrapped them.” Wooyoung remarks with a teasing grin and you growl at him, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“You saw nothing.” You whisper menacingly into his ear, Wooyoung’s eyes glinting with amusement as his gaze meet yours. Your heart stutters for a second.

Then he sticks out his tongue to brush your palm.

“Ew!” You yelp and yank your arm back from his face, only to find him howling with mirth. Scowling, you plop back in your seat and grumble under your breath, picking up your chopsticks.

For the next hour or so, you and Wooyoung eat cup ramen side by side and watch the snowflakes outside fall gently to the ground, covering your footprints from earlier in a blanket of soft, powdery white. Wooyoung speeds his way through the first two cups of ramen before finally slowing down on the third one, his lips adorably red and swollen from the spicy taste. The two of you talk about nothing and everything, merely enjoying the company of each other.

When the two of you step out of the convenience shop and start on the road home, the snow has stopped for the most part aside from a few stray snowflakes here and there, but it’s still freezing cold. You raise your hands to your mouth to blow on them and rub them together, shaking your head in exasperation.

“I still can’t believe you ate five whole cups on your own, Wooyoung.”

“You know me, babe.” He winks impishly at you, but then his gaze softens a little as he looks at you with a fond smile. You watch the snowflakes land in his soft grey hair and for a moment, he looks so ethereal that he really just steals your breath away.

“Don’t call me that.” You bop him on the nose and he jumps, taking your hands into his.

“You’re freezing!” He comments with a pout, puffing out hot little breaths over your fingers. You try to wipe the warm, content smile off your face before he can see it, fixing your face into a scowl.

“Of course I am, who do you think dragged me out at 12:03 in the morning to eat cup ramen?” You shake your head in exasperation as you glance at the head of silvery grey hair before you, his head rising to give you a mischievous grin.

“Alright...” He drags the word out playfully, his cheeks flush from the cold. “Where else do you want me to warm you up?”

You point to your cheeks. The sides of your face feel near frozen. “Here.”

Wooyoung ducks to the side, blowing warm air on each cold cheek. They turn red upon contact with his breath, whether it’s from the cold or embarrassment, you hope he never finds out. “Where else?”

You point to your ears. You can’t see them for yourself, but Wooyoung has always told you that they flush pink in the cold winter air. Wooyoung grins and blows on each too, and warm blood rushes there in response to his touch. “And?”

You point to your nose. “It’s cold here.”

Wooyoung’s face leans forward to meet yours and your eyes slide shut. His breath ghosts over your nose, tickling you just a little, and you can feel his lips brush against your skin ever so gently before he pulls away.

“Where else?” He hums, squeezing your hands lightly in his. There’s a distinctively teasing smile playing on his lips. You touch your own in response.

“Here.” You point at your lips. They get cold fast, and in the winter they always get chapped, which you absolutely hate-

Wooyoung’s mouth dips down to meet yours.

You don’t register it for a moment, the taste of spicy ramen lingering on your lips as you ponder the flavour. It’s faint, not quite as strong as earlier, and you mumble against his lips. “You really ate too much ramen, Wooyoung, even your mouth tastes spicy now-”

Then you freeze.

Your eyes fly open in shock at what has just happened, a sharp intake of breath passing your lips. Wooyoung looks temporarily confused for a moment, before he too, realises what he’s just done.

The two of you spring apart, both turning red as tomatoes. You gape at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your brain short circuiting as if you’ve walked straight into a power generator.

“You kissed-”

“I kissed-”

The two of you fall into utter silence for a moment, merely staring at each other in shock. Wooyoung’s face is as red as a cherry, a rosy red blush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, mouth sputtering out nonsensical words of its own accord. “You... I... if... kiss... become...girlfriend?”

You shriek and bolt down the path at the last word.

Your short circuited brain can’t take any more.

Wooyoung sighs as he watches you go, shaking his head under his breath. Yes, he has feelings for you. Yes, he has been crushing on you for the last six months. Yes, he has asked you out tonight to enjoy your company because he loved seeing you like that, face bare and hair thrown into a messy bun, completely and utterly real.

But he never intended on kissing you out of the blue!

“I... I just need to apologize to her tomorrow and tell her it was all a mistake.” Wooyoung runs a hand through his hair, teeth worrying his bottom lip anxiously. What if you’re too awkward to look him in the eye after this? He smacks himself in the forehead with a groan.

He’s such an idiot.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of crunching snow and blinks in confusion, raising his head. The second he does, soft, warm lips press against his too, moving so gently he feels all the air leave his lungs in one gasp.

Then all too fast, you pull away and Wooyoung only blinks at you owlishly in shock.

“Your lips were cold too!” You shout in his ears, face burning bright crimson with embarrassment. “See you tomorrow, Wooyoung!”

And then you’re running off again at top speed, nearly slipping on the snowy road and his heart leaps into his chest in a panic. But you catch your balance, slipping and sliding, before disappearing around the corner of the street.

His tongue darts out, sliding across his lips in wonderment.

His first kiss tastes like spicy ramen, iced coffee and best of all...

You.

[coll2mitts]

Super Mario Bros. (1993)

Thanks to the awesome people who donated to Extra Life (you still can, btw!)  y'all will now be treated to a retrospective on the 1993 classic movie, Super Mario Bros.  When I took on this milestone, the first (and only) person I messaged for ideas on terrible (but wonderful) films based on video games was my friend Max, who has a history of viewing and talking about bad movies.  He suggested this, and while I was aware of this magnificent piece of cinema history, I had not had the pleasure of viewing it myself.  He hooked me up with a copy, and to say this film lived up to my expectations would be an understatement.

I couldn’t help but be charmed by this movie.  It is filled with so many questionable creative choices that were fucking ridiculous.  Mario and Luigi not being blood related?  Sure.  Cheesy Italian accents replaced with a New York ones?  Yeah, why not?  Having all the enemies in Super Mario Bros. be canonically dinosaurs?  I mean... It's a choice informed by the great media dino wave of 1993, but whatever.  Yoshi is a dinosaur, if we want to extend that to goombas and Koopa for whatever reason, I'm down.  Having these dinosaurs live underneath New York City in a parallel dimension?  It's based on a video game, why the fuck not?  Everything is so goddamn bonkers.

The opening credits roll, and we’re told that 65 million years ago, a meteor created said underground parallel universe dinosaur land.  We witness a human-looking woman, who is really a dinosaur, leaving an egg baby on a church doorstep.  Don’t think about it too hard, the logistics of a human giving birth to an egg that size are just... it’s gross to think about.

We’re then introduced to the titular characters, Mario Mario and Luigi Mario.  Yes, their last names are Mario.  Making them the Mario brothers.  Because this movie is interested in answering the important questions.  Mario is the owner of a failing plumbing business, while Luigi is a conspiracy theorist who would have really enjoyed modern-day YouTube.

While they’re out trying to find work, they run into Miss Amy March herself, Daisy, who is an archeologist in charge of digging up dinosaur bones from a New York City construction site.  She’s being forced off the property by the mob, who apparently are annoyed that a blonde lady in cargo shorts is coming between them and whatever the fuck they’re building.  

They try and intimidate her, she storms off to use a payphone to call for security, and is almost picked up by two inconspicuous bozos in a cab who apparently are stealing Brooklyn women off the street for no reason.  Their plan is quickly thwarted by a random moving pane of glass.

Instead, Daisy runs right into Luigi, who forgets how to human once he sees her pretty face.  He asks her on a date, where she reveals even more exposition.  She believes the meteor that destroyed the dinosaurs landed in New York City.  Oh, and also, she’s the abandoned egg baby.  Luigi is also an orphan, and this shared trauma apparently gets them both hot and bothered.  They wander off to the dig site, because an underground pit attached to a sewer is so romantic, and it is also where Daisy feels the most comfortable.

What if we made out at the bone pit?

Their touching moment is cut short when the mob sabotages the plumbing in the sewer and water starts flooding the area.  They run to get Mario, because he is a plumber, to fix the pipes, which is so fucking clutch, I love it so much.

While the Mario brothers are distracted, Daisy is captured by the weirdo twins and dragged into the alternate dinosaur universe.  Mario and Luigi follow, and we’re treated to the most fucking amazing transition scene of Bob Hoskins spinning wildly through colorful rocks.

Turns out, parallel dinosaur world, or Dinohattan, is fucking lit as hell.  I am convinced that Futurama based their sewer city on this movie.

King Koopa, who is a dinosaur with badly bleached hair gelled back in an effort to look like Michael Douglas in Wall Street, has taken over Dinohattan.  He is the one who asked the goons to kidnap Daisy, because of the tacky crystal necklace she wears.  Apparently, it is a piece of the meteorite that crashed into earth, and once he puts the piece back into the original space rock, the dinosaur world will merge with the mammal world after 65 million years of his people being sequestered underground, and Koopa will have endless resources at his disposal.  Also, Daisy is a princess, and her dad is a giant fungus taking over the city, so that’s totally normal and not at all weird.

Problem is, the two idiots he sent to grab her didn’t think to check if she was wearing the necklace.  Turns out, Luigi has the necklace, or had the necklace, as they are quickly mugged by a granny, who is then robbed by a lady with a bright red spiky latex coat and springy robot feet.  The brothers are then arrested by the dinocops and are grilled by Koopa for the whereabouts of the rock.  When they play dumb he uh... reacts in a proportionate way.

I am not even going to attempt to explain the devo process...  It is a combination of insane and fucking disgusting.  Whoever in the costuming department looked at the cute fucking mushroom Goombas in the video game and decided to translate them into this scaly, jagged-teethed nightmare fuel deserves to be committed.

Also, there’s only one lizard king, and that’s Jim Morrison, so back off, buddy.

What is hilarious to me is this is the story the screenwriters came up with.  Super Mario, as a video game, doesn’t have much lore, right?  You slide down pipes, you jump on mushrooms, and you save the princess from a spiky turtle.  They took that game and created... This.  A parallel underground dinosaur universe that has a sentient fungus as a king, taken over by a human-like t-rex that devolves other lizards into tiny-headed night paralysis demons.

The middle of this movie alternates between a slog of expositional scenes about Daisy being a princess, and pretty entertaining action scenes of the Mario brothers running from Goombas while trying to find and save Daisy.  Mario and Luigi steal a cop car and drive it off a cliff Thelma and Louise-style; They cosplay as Ketchup and Mustard to steal the necklace back from Big Burtha while asking her to stomp on them; They jump off a bridge into a garbage truck; They break the pipes in Koopa’s building to freeze everything, and get past an elevator full of Goombas by making them dance.

Watching Daisy damsel-in-distress-it in Koopa’s high rise office building and fend off advances by a long-tongued dude who devolved her father into a mushroom was pretty boring and disturbing.  Alternatively, witnessing Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo pretend to jump on giant sheets of fungus really sold this movie for me.  It succeeds when it tries to be ridiculous and fun, and fall flat when it attempts to integrate any sort of drama that I’m assuming was added to make this story more appealing to adults.

Mario and Luigi eventually find Daisy, and she introduces them to her father - a giant dripping blob suspended from the ceiling.  Luigi wants in her pants badly enough that he pretends this is a reasonable thing to do.  Mario heads further into the building to free the other ladies kidnapped by tweedle dee and tweedle dum that they initially thought were Daisy, but weren’t.  The newly assembled group are able to escape by sliding down the frozen pipes on a mattress before they are green-screen launched out of the pipe and back into the greater Dinohattan area.

The amount of times Mario and Luigi use their plumbing skills to overcome obstacles may be my favorite part of this movie.  The plot goes out of its way to justify a really bizarre character trait for the original game.

Anyway, the end of this movie comes at you fast.  First, the sentient fungus king gives Mario and Luigi a bomb, and they decide to wind it up and aim it at Koopa.  This takes about 10 minutes of screen time to matter again.

Koopa’s second-in-command tries to merge Daisy’s stolen necklace with the meteor, and instead gets skeletoned to bits, prompting the best line delivery reaction from Daisy, a deadpan “Yikes”.

Because the necklace has now been returned to its resting place, the worlds start to merge Infinity War style.

“Mr. Koopa, I don’t feel so good.”

Koopa and Mario end up back in Manhattan, and Koopa just starts shooting his devo guns at human mobsters, turning them back into primates, and giving their wardrobe a whole new literal definition of monkey suit.

Luigi uses his super plumbing powers to drill the necklace back out of the meteor, separating the worlds again.  The bomb finally goes off, they devo Koopa into slime, and the citizens celebrate by immediately painting over his ever-prevalent propaganda.

The king evolves back into a mushroom person or something, and Daisy stays in Dinohattan to get to know her father better.  Mario and Luigi return to their lives in Brooklyn as plumbers, and their heroic acts make them conspiracy community famous, as they now refer to our heroes as the Super Mario Brothers.  Roll Credits.

Except not, because Daisy returns to ask for the help of a couple of great plumbers, setting up a sequel that will never, ever happen because there is no god and we’re not allowed to feel joy.

Honestly, Super Mario Bros. is great.  It owned every bold plot and visual choice it made, and I have to respect it.  I could listen to John Leguizamo say Mario like 700 more times.  Y’all are missing out if you think you’re too cool to watch this movie.

I’ll be back to musical reviews later this month.  I have a few seasonally appropriate movies in my big red sack waiting to be placed under the tree...  Yes, I meant to phrase it that way.

[galfridus1]

Happy Birthday Maja

Hope you have a wonderful day @emo-hedgehog-zeldris! Have some of your OTP, some snow, some angst and hopefully a bit of a happy ending.

Snow, pure and sparkling in the pale winter sunlight, crunched under his boots as he paced into the forest. Apart from his footsteps there was not a sound to be heard, the white powder swallowing up all noise to leave a silence ringing on the air. There were signs of life though. The ground showed tracks of a cloven hooved animal, presumably an elk, which appeared to have meandered through the trees at random, and the odd three-toed footprint of some sort of bird that had no doubt attempted to forage for sustenance. But nothing was moving now, no matter how hard he strained his ears. It was quiet and cold and very, very still.

“Arthur,” he called loudly, his voice booming and he winced at the noise. “This is a really, really bad idea.”

A slight echo was the only response. “Come on,” he snapped impatiently, gloved hands clenching into fists at his sides. “This is utterly stupid. Can’t we just go home?”

Still no reply. Zeldris sighed and strode forward, batting stray branches out of his way. The forest was full of pine, the aroma of resin floating over the frost and the green fronds of the trees bending with little piles of snow. His eyes darted from left to right, noting trunk after trunk and nothing but snow on the ground. There were no landmarks to speak of, just an endless stretch of woodland. Narnia must be like this, he thought to himself as he went further in, watching closely for any sign of anything that might give away Arthur’s location. Perhaps if he looked hard enough he would find a wardrobe full of coats.

“This isn’t funny!” he complained. The wet was beginning to seep through the wool of his gloves to freeze his fingers and his toes were also starting to ache. “I hate the outdoors,” he muttered to himself, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “It’s too… unpredictable.”

He should just concede, tell Arthur he was, in fact, the best of the two of them at surviving in the wild - which he was, Zeldris had to acknowledge - and then they could leave and salvage what was left of the weekend. They had not been going out long and every moment was precious. It was his own boasting that had got him into this mess. Why on earth had he said there was nothing Arthur could do that he could not do better? Zeldris opened his mouth, but no sound would come out. Clearly Arthur was better at hiding in the woods than he was and yet still he could not admit defeat. He would just have to find him so this game could end.

More stealthily now, Zeldris crept behind a tree, casting a glance back along the way he had come. There were his tracks plain to see, and a few broken branches along with a marked absence of snow on the spiky leaves. Arthur must have left some sort of trace, he just had to find it. He looked around carefully, scanning the scene for anything that looked out of place, holding his breath as he saw it: a string of red wool caught on a branch some twenty feet or so off, the vibrant crimson standing out against the snow. It had to have come from Arthur’s red scarf. Smiling to himself, Zeldris began to move, stepping on the roots of the trees near the base of the trunks in an attempt to conceal his movements.

Carefully, he drew closer to the red that dangled down, lifeless in the absence of breeze, focusing on his destination and the placement of his feet. It was slow progress but he gradually made his way close to the strand of wool, and began to look around for other signs of the man he was hunting. He had almost reached the spot when he felt it, a sudden shift in the air, a tension and a buzz of excitement. He stiffened, determining to turn to face the threat when a faint whistle called and then, not even a second later, something very wet and horribly cold smacked him hard in the neck, the crack resounding through the woods. He yelled as whatever it was started to drip down inside his shirt, crawling like ice along his spine.

The laughter that followed made his teeth ache. “That. Was. Amazing!” Arthur exclaimed as he trotted up towards him. Zeldris did not turn round as his boyfriend approached, doing his best to control his rising temper. “You are so bad at this,” Arthur added with a chuckle. “I’ve been following you for ages. I could have got you with a snowball so many times it’s not even funny, but I wanted to see what you’d do and it was hilarious.”

“And why are you so good at it exactly?” Zeldris snapped as he finally whipped round, rubbing the back of his neck and shaking to displace some of the now-liquid snow. “You’ve left no tracks at all! What are you, some sort of ghost?”

Arthur snickered. “Oh, no I just know my way around. I spent a lot of time in these woods. Once I lived out here for nearly a month, or maybe it was a bit more,” said Arthur thoughtfully, his brows furrowing together. “Something like that anyway. It was a long time ago. I was only a kid at the time.”

“Why were you living out here?” Zeldris asked, curious in spite of his irritation. “Don’t tell me, it was some sort of environmental protest or to raise money for something worthy. You’re too bloody noble for your own good sometimes.”

Arthur shrugged. “Guilty,” he said with a grin. “I do like to help out where I can and the planet is important, whatever you say. But no, I lived out here for a spell because I ran away from home and I didn’t have much choice.”

“You ran away from home?” Zeldris looked at him closely, examining Arthur carefully. “What happened?” he asked more softly.

Arthur pursed his lips, then shook his head. “Aww, it was no big deal,” he replied. “Just… you know, one of those things. My family don’t like me very much and I thought, well, I thought they’d be better off without me. They certainly said so quite a few times. I stayed out here for as long as I could, then school noticed my clothes were… pretty gross, I guess. They made me go back. Well, I say back. I went into a children’s home, which is an experience I would not recommend. But this is all gloomy,” Arthur said with another chuckle, “and all in the past. No harm done. Let’s talk about something else.”

“I ran away too,” Zeldris whispered, swallowing hard as Arthur’s eyes snapped to his. “But I didn’t live in the woods,” he added acerbically.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, mirroring his own words.

Zeldris bit his lip. “My father is… he was fine when I was young, nice even. We used to get on really well. Then… something happened. His personality changed, and I don’t really know why. He started drinking. A lot. And he started to hate me. Really, really hate me. I remember one day, I was thirteen, I was heading out of the house to see a friend and he stopped me, lent down right into my face and squeezed my shoulder hard, really hard, and said, ‘Get out of my sight you pathetic shit’. I hadn’t done anything.”

Zeldris paused, forcing himself to suck in a deep breath. “Anyway, I decided not to go back home that night. When I left my friend’s house I just walked around, just walking the streets. It wasn’t really running away as such, I just didn’t want to go home. That was when Mel found me. My eldest brother, Meliodas,” he explained as Arthur cocked his head to one side. “He drove around the city looking for me. My other brother, Estarossa, must have called him to say I hadn’t got home and he came to find me. Mel brought me up after that. Got me through college. I haven’t seen my father since.”

Arthur’s arms were around him, tight and comforting, before he had even finished his sentence. He hugged Arthur back, the two pressing their cheeks together. Zeldris closed his eyes, throat stinging hard, unable to hold back the tears that leaked under his lashes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into Arthur’s ear. “Your family don’t know what they’re missing.”

“We’re family now,” Arthur replied, his voice muffled and choked. Zeldris felt Arthur’s heart beat against his own as they clung together, an anchor amidst a furious storm. He was right, Zeldris thought as the warmth of their embrace banished the chill. Whatever else happened, whatever life held, they had each other and that is what mattered.

[deviationdivine]

A Little Misunderstanding (Connor!Prompt Request)

TLDR: It’s your second official date with Connor but things don’t go according to plan...

Word Count: 2,671

TW: Just my fluffy Connor boy. Brief Language.

A/N:Follower/Reader Appreciation Drabble | Prompt: “Oh, cool. So you just killed a few guys. No big deal.” @catastrophes-light request! After some heavy angst I need this fluff in my life. Thank you for participating sweetie! I hope you like this one! Kiss my boy Connor for me. 

“So what’s it like?” 

Stalling from your typing to cock an eyebrow leans you towards abrupt question. In fact you take time to make sure this is the correct cubicle they’ve come to. Of course it is. Here comes gossip in a premeditated cornering while running away is not a possibility. 

Huh. Wonder how that preconstruction protocol really works. It will make life easier if high tech electronics zapped into the brain. Never mind the hypothesis. That’s too easy for someone to get unnatural ideas putting tech inside people’s heads.

Unnatural is a horrible word. Thinking of him being technology, never can you mean that. He is not just components. 

“What’s what like?” Refusal to take bait gives a leg up for now. You play dumb either way. 

A roll of their eyes reveals they’re onto the game second you drop such an ignorant response. “Oh, I don’t know. Android boyfriend? Ring a bell?”

Boyfriend? You stumble over that word. Hiding beneath faux laughter paints a conspicuous drawing. 

Technically it’s true. Tonight is going to be the second time you have gone out together. First filled you with nervous energy but slowly it fell into place. Puzzle pieces floating down gently, fusing in proper symmetry because Connor is a personal image you yearn to create. Within the very world you live, he exists as a personal shining light and somehow he feels the same. 

He wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Would he? Quit thinking brain or soon you may start to question. 

Honestly it is difficult not wrapping Connor into each crevice of thought, breathing in his infallible aura; sweetness exudes outside a mandate of professionalism where he works. You know this from times chatting so closely. There is something about him. It’s not because he’s an android. He possesses warmth most humans can hardly drudge up in their daily lives. He just is. 

Easily you fall into his abyssal chocolate, rich, flavorful whenever connecting with an equally rapturous gaze. All this without speaking and going to that fantasy beats a day of working. 

Office jobs are boring. That’s why they call them cushy office jobs. Still this beats staring at a monitor until eyes glaze over. Cross-eyed is bad for your vision working on these excel sheets all day long. Not that you will ever complain because this is easy compared to other places. 

Imagine doing customer service waiting tables or shudder to think: selling digital magazines by phone. 

The horror of telemarketing still chills you to the bone. God.  

Snorting quietly under breath, you smile up at your co-worker. Obviously they think the beaming reaction is for current subject. Well, he is a reason to smile every morning. Anticipating his crooked smile, bright brown eyes and the flop of hair hanging loosely in a kiss atop forehead; each tiny freckle on his face you long to kiss. 

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Sure you’ve known Connor for a while but it’s only recently the two of took a step in the romance department. It’s what you wanted from the beginning. He is just so undeniably perfect. 

“Um, hello?” The worker snaps fingers in front of your face. “Are you still on planet Earth? Or in robo paradise?” 

Obviously they will not go away unless they get something. Piranhas cannot be this bloodthirsty! 

“Actually, Connor is taking me out tonight. After work,” explaining hastily, returning to keyboard, a breath expels impatiently. Darkness cannot swallow Detroit soon enough. 

“Oooh! Private locale or-?” The ribbing co-worker continues for spicy details. 

Private locale in your most sought after dreams but no. You two only just started dating. It’s just a few outings. As much as you want a real, full relationship with the detective prototype small steps are best even comfortable around each other. Time as friends really became the most happy in your life. Connor makes you smile every day even if you do not see him. 

“A restaurant,” you correct the assumption. “A new one. It caters to humans and androids.” 

Yawning at the dull answer, they fold arms disappointed. “Sounds nice but - Does he have a…? You know.” 

“Like I would discuss that!” A scoff travels angrily up your throat. Seeing Connor completely undone from sharp, crisp wardrobe certainly pumps the heart quicker. You haven’t seen Connor naked! But you would like to. 

Burning into your soul it does unspeakable things. Why did they have to ask that out of a million others? Your buzzing cell phone saves a life alighting screen producing a personal call. On work time, shit.

Checking the number forces you to answer quickly, ignoring that fact now. “Connor!”

“Hello, Y/N. Am I disturbing any important matters at work?”

“No,” lying thickly convinces you best. Who cares when this beautiful boy is calling?

“I am afraid I will not be able to pick you up as per our mutual agreement.” 

Connor’s explanation is too technical on a given day. Always falls back into that type of thing even though you know now how human he’s become. Frankly you adore this. “Did we sign a contract?” Giggling a little instills instant regret as nosy co-worker does not take a hike. You glare. “Do-do you want to cancel?”

The android does not answer for a fraction of a second. Possibly attempting to analyze the worry vocalized in your voice. “No. I am sorry if I made you believe I wished to.” 

“Oh, no, Connor. I-I’m sorry. Um…are you OK?”

“Yes. It is a case that the lieutenant and I are working on. I will need a little more time.” Connor’s tone shifts, antagonizing over the altering probabilities. “I-I hope you are not disappointed, Y/N.”

Listen to him. He sounds so worried. Does he think a little change is end of the world? It genuinely made you feel important to him for this type of reaction. 

“Connor,” softly breathing in his name sends you upon a personal cloud. “I would never be disappointed with you. Why don’t we just meet instead?”

“Very well,” the android agrees enthusiastic for tonight. “I will always come to you. No matter what may hold me.” 

An hour and a half late! He actually left you stranded at this damn restaurant for nearly two hours looking like a complete idiot. 

How many people walked by giving you looks for pacing? Lost count at this point but my God are you so going to kill him! Angry is beyond these emotions streaming through your body. 

First step is irritation. Twenty minutes in waiting, knowing he will meet you here this time instead of him arriving at the apartment. He explained why. He called again to give a specific time. 

Time went out the window long ago and still you stand here. How long are you going to? Wake up and leave. Go back home and just forget this. Maybe-maybe it really wasn’t work. He may have used an excuse. After the first date did it not resonate as it did with you? Is he too sweet to just say it to your face? Instead, he stands you up! 

Waiting is an insult to your self esteem because no man, android or human, is going to make a fool of you. Why did you think it would be any different? Tears threaten but you hold them at bay. Is it worth shedding an ache squeezing the thudding muscle in your chest? 

Sometimes the most amazing person is not worth trampling over dignity. Never will that be a proper excuse to allow treatment of this kind. It’s time to decide.

Well, OK. You’re not waiting anymore. 

Pulling a jacket snug around your frame does nothing to stop ice freezing around your heart. Walking away is also walking away from a chance with him. Should have known taking it beyond friends would crash at your feet. 

“Y/N!”

Your stomach immediately drops. A familiar husky call stops you briefly. Even that is too much time. So he finally shows up and for what?! 

“Y/N! Wait, please, I…”

Rounding on him brought a solid finger jab into his chest. No manner of being such a tall and impossibly cute android stops your anger. Who does he think he is? After all of that awkward flirting, which did get smoother you will admit, and finally asking you out somewhere he strings you along. 

He could’ve not shown for the first date. If he truly wanted to back out then why did he sweep you off feet then? Thinking about how sore your toes are from working all day isn’t helping current mood. 

“Cut it out smart guy! If you think you’ll schmooze your way back into my good graces think again!” 

Schmoozing is counterproductive to the current stress Connor analyzes while yelling at him. It spikes his own despite knowing his reasons for being so late are justified. Perhaps-perhaps that is not the word he should say to appease you. Justification may come out wrong. 

The android does not feel it represents his feelings. Nothing ever in this universe is justifiable if it means upsetting you. After all this time, following imperfect advice from Hank, the detective found confidence to take this friendship to another stage. 

Obviously you felt the same. He scans everything easily but discerning natural changes within humans is also part of his programming. It is what he is made for. Deviancy grants him choice in how he incorporates these skills into daily life. Often times he chooses to use something humans call gut instinct. That is a strange thing to possess but Connor finds it to improve relations. 

Hank also calls him out on his bullshit and tells him to ‘stop analyzing shit’ all the time. “Let me explain,” the android insists, a glow of desperation in his soft burnished gaze. 

Emotion pours exclusively all for you as he feels blindingly guilty. You bring this in a bloom to his surface of wires. Never will he cause pain when you are a breath of air, a soft but endless prayer pulling him from doubts. It is affection, holding him, haunting him in encompassing deviancy. 

Connor feels lost still in moments. Life is of worth now but he must quietly accept troubles in his personal worth. It is only natural. As a deviant there is nothing but color. You are another hue dotting this world in beauty, his world. 

“You stood me up!” Hurt overshadows rationale when it means your Connor is the one who lied. “When you gave me a time. Was I supposed to wait all night? Why did you even show up now? If you don’t want to date just…!” 

A gasp steels words when Connor lays hands to your waist. The gesture alone is a thousand waves of lightening going off at once. Electricity conducts right through the crux of your body. 

“Something grave occurred while Lt. Anderson and I were on our stakeout.” 

Connor’s breath never sounded as hasty as it does at this precise moment. Scarlet bathes indicator, syncing in worrying flicks of stress the second he witnessed you speeding away along walkway. Grave may not be the best word. The android cocks his head brows furrowing in consideration. 

“There was a slight miscalculation on the number of assailants in attendance. I had to…take them out.” Connor bluntly finishes what normally would be a long winded statement. 

Another illegal shipping ring and this time they held several hostages for cover. An effective way to thwart police involvement but also a tip someone told them they were coming. 

“Forgive me. I did not mean for you to think I did not want this.” 

That-that’s nice what he just said but back up! Did he just say - take them out? As in…?

“Wait, Connor. Are you saying you…? Those criminals. Did you-?”

“Snuff them out?” He offers a colorful description that only Hank can rub off on him. “If you feel that is an appropriate answer… Yes.” 

“Oh, cool.” You whisper slightly distracted by his brutal honesty. “So you just killed a few guys. No big deal.” 

“Does that bother you, Y/N?” Connor wondered curiously, tilting his head to study your expression. 

“Bother me?” 

Any other time yes it would be problematic. Can’t say you’ve known many who just straight up knocked off a few people. He doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly to be honest. Maybe that’s just his aesthetic. Those deep brown puppy eyes do make knees buckle under pressure. 

An android who works for the local police department is rich icing. At least it is where your tastes are concerned. Even if he wasn’t a detective you are certain of how smitten this android makes you. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you decide your words carefully. “I mean you are a cop. Were they-they trying to hurt someone?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly.

Sparing details is part of his job. He does not want to cause further distress. Some incidents are better kept. Working as an official detective for the DPD, Connor does not want to tangle you in dangerous affairs.

“I am sorry,” he repeats. “I tried to be on time. Y/N, I will never let you down. I swear to you.” 

Never mind that. He just went from admitting he had to fight a few goons and then-? Who knows but the point is he-he will not stop giving such hopeful, apologetic eyes. It softens even his explanation for being so late. 

“Connor.” 

“I would like to kiss you now,” Connor murmurs softly on level with your lips. Hovering close with a breath of space between two pairs one manufactured but another delicate, warm as rose petals. “If I may?” 

Eyelids flutter shut in answer to his rich husk, artificial breath fanning across your face. Inhaling his scent, discerning less tacky cologne than you realize his partner wears. Actually it is a nice fresh scent, organic and crisp. 

His consideration, respect to obtain your consent only expands those butterflies rumbling pit of stomach. They are more. Metamorphosis creates fireflies in their stead. Glowing beautiful similarly to flickering azure captivating each time you study the indicator he still wears. 

“OK.” 

He smiles brief, twisting the corners unevenly but cherished by how your heart races whenever the feature molds his mouth. Lips mold now forming a work of art upon yours, sculpture, carved delicate but with a stroke of passion. All consuming, churning within the motors driving his existence. 

A shift in the position you both stand brings you away from sidewalk. Instead you find yourself pressing against weathered brick. Foundation keeping you from sinking underneath his raw emotional energy; pulling at the android’s bottom lip between teeth does wonderful things. 

Swallowing his groan only produces a mimicking moan up your throat as the smooth wet glide of his tongue enters to tangle in a caress. It is then you feel as though you can float. Pulling him closer by the front of his jacket, pristine navy fabric twisting in greedy digits, the kiss transcends hunger. 

This is love. It is the heart and you two make up the halves. 

Connor encapsulates you within his strong hold, arms sealing you away as a priceless gem. No fear of breakage will destroy the android’s fortified enclosure always keeping you safe no matter what will befall city. 

Detroit itself is a smoky night twinkling with thousands of stars above and he wishes to take you somewhere eclipsed of this bustling noise. Upon a soft blanket, laying you down to watch whatever celestial heavens you desire. Ultimately he will watch you, studying those constellations reflecting in a human gaze that he already loves. 

In this moment he does not feel doubt. He does not think of where he came from or those worries that will still come in his newfound life. He only thinks of this moment because this is the one that will burn a memory in the circuits of his mind, in his thudding synthetic heart. 

This memory is you…

Tag List: @elydith  @your-taxidermy

[wilwywaylan]

From the closet

Fandom : Umbrella Academy

Probably after the apocalypse, or during, I don’t know, Klaus & Five, 3091 words

Just some brotherly fluff mixed with a hint of crack

Also on AO3 !

It's because of the weird silence that Klaus first notices the noise. It's not unusual, of course ; even when they were still all living there as a (family) group, the place wasn't bustling with the usual ruckus and mayhem that comes with seven active children (but where they even children ?). Heavy doors and stern commands confined all the noise made by their training and non-existant games to the rooms, leaving halls and corridors in a deep silence where any noise resonated like a gunshot. Every one of them had memorized each crack of the floorboards, each whisper and moan of the rafters, the bang of a window and the shuffle of a carpet. Soon, they all knew the song, Mom's clicking steps and Father's heavy pace, Luther's stomp or Allison's bounce. The melody of the place they came to call home because it was all they had.

Even now, after years of living away and coming here only now and then, when he can't find a roof and the pain and the loneliness and the craving are too much and - even after all those years, Klaus can still recognize each crack, each small sound. Even after all this time, his feet instinctively fall back in the dance, they find the path they designed to reach the kitchen in complete silence, to raid the fridge, when they - Ben and him, when Ben was still alive and a set of steps Klaus knew as well as his own, not -

He still knows the song and the steps of the dance, even if it's a little older, a little heavier. So when he hears that particular crack, he knows which verse it is, and what it means. Someone is where they shouldn't be. Klaus makes his way through the gallery, his feet silent on the thick carpet as they always were, Ben following behind, going through the walking motions even as he doesn't need it anymore.

Klaus reaches the door of his room, and slowly pushes it open. Nothing to see. Then a shirt crosses the room to land on a heap at the bottom of the bed, where three other shirts, a pair of jeans and a mesh jacket already lie. He steps in, catches the next thing coming at his head - a lace blouse with so many ruffles, that he doesn't even remember getting - and turns towards his closet.

- What the fuck ? he says eloquently.

Five turns to look at him, not troubled in the slightest.

- Do you even own one decent pair of pants ? he asks.

- Excuse you, all my pants are decent.

Five holds up the ones in his hands - his favourite, the ones he spent a whole hour carefully slashing with a cutter - then throws them at his head, where they hang like a very weird headband.

- You call that decent ? They look like they endured the apocalypse.

- I don't see the problem. All the bits are covered, everything's held in place.

Five's glace effectively conveys everything he thinks about Klaus' pants, bits, and everything they have to do with each other. He dives back into the closet, and pieces of clothing start flying again. Klaus just leans back. Ben sits on the bed, clearly amused, and they both watch the show.

Soon, Five emerges, a little out of breath. He's holding a small box in his hands. A small box that Klaus doesn't want to think about, had almost forgotten. He jumps to rip it out of his hands, but Five teleports away out of his reach - of course he does, the little shit.

- Hey, give that back ! he tries, even if he knows that it's useless.

Five's smile is way too big.

- Why ? What's in there ?

- Nothing !

He dives again, but Five ducks, and he crashes on the bed. Ben moves out of the way, looking quite amused by the situation.

- What ? Five asks again. Is there something in there I'm not supposed to see ?

To Klaus' horror, he starts opening it.

- Don't do that !

There's a hint of panic in his voice that makes Five pause for a second.

- You know I know what a dildo is, right ?

- That's great for you, brother, and I'm glad that your time after the apocalypse was so rich in teachings and discoveries, but I still have two objections : first, I don't need my 13-years-old brother (Five's smile disappears, and Klaus quickly amends) my 13-years-old-looking brother talking about dildos, or sextoys, or sex in general. It's a very interesting topic, yes, my favourite even besides drugs, but let's wait until you're fourteen... looking.

Ben mutters something sounding like "like it disturbs you" and Klaus hisses at him.

- Second, he goes on, it's not a dildo. I keep mine under my pillow, close to my heart.

Both of his brothers make a face, and Ben hastily moves from the bed. Klaus takes advantage of the reaction to try and grab the box a third time. Five teleports again. But the box, damaged by the years, can't endure that treatment. The cardboard breaks, and the contents spill on the floor. Klaus watches the papers and pictures slide endlessly, farther and farther, like they want to cover the whole floor. But they stop, at his feet. He looks up. He can't, he doesn't want to look at them again. He's done it so much that he can still feel them under his fingers. The pictures, cracked after being folded so much. The drawings, smudged and stained. The bright colors that don't want to fade, the smiles that linger... He blinks, trying to get rid of the prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes.

When he looks back, Five is holding one of the pictures and peering at his curiously. On the glossy paper, a young Ben and a - happy, young, innocent - Klaus grin at him, holding each other's shoulders. Klaus knows it by heart, the cut on Ben's forehead, a plaster on his hand that Grace insisted to put on, the crease going between them like a reminder of - Klaus feels the familiar itch in his fingers, the need to drown everything in the comfortable silence of the drugs.

- Hey !

He doesn't know who talked, Ben or Five, they are both looking at him ; Ben seems worried, Five's expression is just bemusement, but maybe that's how he shows worry too. He wipes his eyes, staining his hand with his eyeliner.

- You okay ? Five asks.

- Yeah, sure. Perfect.

Five's face clearly shows that he doesn't believe him, but he doesn't say anything, instead thumbing through the papers gathered in his hand.

- You kept Ben's pics ? he asks.

- Yeah, well. Someone had to, right ?

- And the others ?

Klaus shrugs. Maybe the others would have done the same, he doesn't know, he doesn't want to think about it. He kept them all, hoarded them and hid them for himself because it dulled the pain a little. He was selfish, he always was selfish when it came to Ben, and he didn't care, he still doesn't. He was the closest to Ben and Ben was the closest to him, and when he died, it left a hole that he tried to close as he could.

He doesn't say anything, just takes the pictures and drawings from Five's hands - all those smiles, those happy faces, forever lost - and stuffs them in a drawer. When he turns back, all traces of sorrow have been carefully pushed down, hidden under the smile and the make-up.

- So, boys ! he chirps, clapping his hands.

Five's only answer is a raised eyebrow.

- Say, what were you doing in my closet ? Looking for a fashion sense ?

- As if I wanted yours.

- The remnants of my heterosexuality, maybe ?

Ben mouths a "what the fuck ?" at him and he blows him a kiss. Five follows the gesture, frowns, looks back at Klaus.

- I know you don't have any left since you were eleven, I think, he deadpans.

- Aow, that hurts, Klaus mock-whines.

- Everyone knows, Five insists.

- And I'm loud and proud.

- Especially loud, Ben adds.

- Low blow. Now, that brings us back to square one : what were you doing in my closet ?

With a sigh, Five gestures vaguely towards his clothes.

- I only have this to wear, and I'm starting to get hacked off with having to dress as a college boy.

Klaus bites off his answer about him being a college boy.

- But you're so cute in them !

Five glares at him, and for a second, Klaus thinks that he's going to teleport away. But he just says through gritted teeth :

- It's extremely annoying.

He looks down again.

- Also, I'm freezing. They aren't really appropriate.

- You should have said something ! Let your big brother help you !

He grabs Five, hoists him to his feet and drags him out of the room. He expects the arm under his fingers to disappear, but it stays there, and despite his protests, Five follows.

~*~

- What are we doing here ?

- Shhhh !

Klaus looks at Five, then at Ben who followed and seems vaguely curious. He carefully pushes the door open. There's no real reason, It's been a long time since Diego has used that room, but old habits die hard.

Once sure the path is clear, Klaus slips into the room and walks to the wardrobe. He opens it, peers inside.

- Well, our Diego certainly loved a little variation in his clothes.

He pulls out a few leather outfits, strictly identical to the one he's been wearing those last days, only a little smaller. He holds one to Five, who makes the most amazing disgusted face.

- I am not wearing that, he warns.

- Oh, so sad. You'd look amazing in it ! Cutest little dominatrix !

Ben groans and shakes his head. Five growls too, but more like he's very much wanting to bite him.

- Okay, I'll take that back.

Five's stance relaxes a little.

- The cutest little Village Person, he can't help but add.

- Screw you, Five hisses, and walks out.

- You can't help yourself, Ben remarks.

- I'm not even trying.

Klaus grins at him and follows Five in the hallway.

~*~

Compared to theirs, Allison's room is a cozy little nest, with comfortable pillows, white curtains at the top of the bed and white furniture. Pics are still stuck to the mirror, and everything is bathed in a soft, almost dreamy light.

- I'm not wearing Allison's clothes, Five says.

- You're not wearing leather, not wearing a skirt... For a 58 year old, you're awfully conservative, you know. You should live a little. Ditch the old rules. Do what you want, you don't think ?

Five looks ready to protest, but something, maybe the acknowledgement of his real age, holds him back, and he merely rolls his eyes. Klaus grabs a boa hanging from the dresser, throws it around Five's neck and uses it to drag him forwards.

- C'mon, let the real you talk. Who knows ? Maybe Delores would like it !

Five's expression changes at the mention of Delores. Klaus doesn't know if he crossed a line or not, and he doesn't dwell on it. He frolicks to the closet, starts digging through it. He soon pulls out an armful of clothes that he all but showers Five with, muttering to himself :

- Not that. No, not your color at all. And this doesn't flatter you in the slightest.

Five looks more and more exasperated, and Ben more and more amused. Klaus stops with a very low-cut purple dress held almost up to Five's head.

- This one ? Yes ?

- If you make me put this on, I swear...

- Hmm no. Not your style. I would wear it way better.

He throws it over his head, slides it on. Five starts saying something, but Klaus cuts him but doing the same to him, sticking him in a yellow twin-set. He jumps on the bed, starts bouncing on it, watching his brother fight his way out of the gaudy cotton.

- Don't be shy, he yell-sings, let your flag fly !

Five finally gets free, and glares at him. Klaus immediatly stops jumping and steps back down.

- You're right, I'm not sure you can pull it off. But I know what's perfect for you.

Five's expression clearly shows that he doesn't believe a word of it, but he lets himself be pulled along. Ben follows, grinning from ear to ear.

~*~

- If Luther knows you've been in his room.... Ben mutters.

- What Luther doesn't know can't harm me, Klaus retorts, and he'll never know I went in his room.

- I don't know who you're trying to convince, Five answers, but he'll know because you're a disaster.

- That hurts, brother.

The closet door hangs open, and Klaus only has to cross the room to grab the nearest pile of fabric.

- What the fuck is that ? A circus tent ?

- Are you that high, Five groans, that you don't even recognize a sweater ?

Klaus looks at the thing again. It is a sweater, thick and sturdy and big enough to fit an elephant, with a zipper the size of a railroad or almost. He glances at Five, who takes one step back.

- Don't even... he starts.

But already, Klaus has stuffed him in the sweater and pulled his arms through the sleeves. Five pushes him away, trying to find his way through what seems to be acres and acres of cotton and... is that fleece ? Luther certainly likes his comfort.

He finally emerges, and Klaus promptly falls on the ground, holding his ribs and howling with laughter. Ben smiles, too. Five seems ready to burst, but he looks at himself, the sleeves falling to his knees, the sweater looking more like some kind of weird dress on him, and even he cracks up.

It takes him a few more minutes to get out of the thing, during which Klaus keeps digging through the closet.

- None of our siblings has the slightest sense of fashion.

- Neither do you.

Klaus ignores the remark.

- If Vanya was still living here, you could certainly borrow some clothes your size from her. If you like grey, grey or grey, of course. But she only left her academy clothes here, and we've ruled out the pleated skirts. Even if you'd be lovely in them.

Five seems to have understood by now that Klaus delects in the faces he makes, and just slightly frowns at him.

- But I'm not one to back down from a challenge !

Ben and Five both snort.

- Back to square one ! ... Again !

He grabs Five again, drags him again, past Ben's room without slowing, and back to his room.

- I'm still not wearing those rags you call pants, Five says.

- They don't really flatter you.

Klaus looks at the clothes he gathered from the others' rooms, now lying at his feet.

- Then again, I may have an idea...

Five shivers.

~*~

They all come home - because it's home, in a way - at nightfall : Luther grunting, Allison calm as ever, Diego bustling with energy, Vanya shuffling around discreetly. As usual, they gather to discuss their progress, which is, none at all, and muse about Five and Klaus' absence.

Allison is the first to notice the weird shape hanging from the ceiling in front of the hearth, like some kind of... sheet ? It's dark, moving slightly, and the glow of a fire in the chimney can be seen through. Or maybe it's the start of something worse. Immediatly in alarm mode, Diego grabs one of his knives and starts edging forwards on the left, Luther takes the right, fists drawn. They close on the thing, ready to strike whatever is invading their houe.

- Fancy meeting you here, Klaus quips.

Diego and Luther can only blink at them.

- Welcome to Castle Klaus ! And Five, he adds. Klaus-Five. Klive.

- That sucks, Five remarks without looking up.

- What are you doing here ? Diego hisses.

- Devising a new gravity theory, why ?

He leans back, grabs his glass and toasts his brothers before emptying it.

Allison and Vanya join the boys and look at the decidely weird picture in front of them. Klaus and Five pushed the pricy couch aside to pile as many cushions as they could in front of the chimney, and are currently lying on them, under their decidely weird tent. Five is now wearing a pair of Allison's leggings with the legs rolled up twince, one of Klaus' hideous tie-dye shirts and a worn-out leather jacket ; the handling he's been victim ofhas left his hair mussed, far from his usual hairstyle, and his shoes currently lie under a dresser. They are both holding glasses of colorful drinks, and Reginald's old swords with which they are roasting marshmallows.

Luther opens his mouth to condemn what he probably sees as an affront, but Klaus is quicker.

- Marshmallow ? he offers, waving the bag in front of his face. We also have margaritas. Or coke, if it's not your jam. Grab a glass and a sword, big guy.

- Stop playing with those ! Luther finally growls. They're not toys.

- Aren't they ? And here I thought they were just some fancy sticks to grill marshmallows with my son !

Five jabs him sharply in the ribs with the hilt of his sword.

- How the hell am I your son ?

- What ? My dear little one rejects me ! Oh, how my fatherly heart is breaking !

- Shut your mouth or I'll shut it up for you.

- His first words of rejection ! How cute !

- He's kinda right, Diego remarks.

Five sends him a glare that could melt steel. Diego doesn't flinch.

- You're just two inches of eyeliner away from being a mini-Klaus.

- Which is very scary, Allison adds.

- You're so mean with me. All of you. I should keep my marshmallows for myself and not share with you. Including you, ungrateful son.

Five hits him with his sword again, and grabs the package from his hands. Klaus whines and dramatically falls back, under the gaze of his not very concerned siblings.

Allison is the first to shrug and sit with them. She takes one of the swords on the rack, sticks a marshmallow on it, and puts it in the flames. It's enough to convince Luther to join, with a few grunts. He's still disapproving, and glaring at them all he knows, but he shuts up and it's all that matters. Vanya and Diego join them too, and soon, they are all sitting together, chatting, laughing sometimes, needling Five about his new looks, bringing back the song of old times for a few moments.

(Until Luther looks up and asks :

- Wait, is that my sweater ?

And all Hell breaks loose.)

[eyesopen2019]

Roadtrip continued

Clearwater is a small community surrounded by waterfalls and canyons with lots of hiking and biking. The next day we spent the morning hiking to a couple of waterfalls.  We drove into Wells Gray Provincial Park and walked a short distance and ended up at the top of a waterfall overlooking a huge canyon and cliffs.  The next one was a longer hike to the base of a waterfall. It was meant to be a 20 minute or 2km walk but ended up being closer to 6km in total which took quite a while. The falls were fairly big and Kai and Leon tried to climb behind it as the lady at the tourist office said you could, but they couldn’t find the path. We were on the lookout for bears along the path but we didn’t see any.  We did have a few complaints from Aiden and Lani along the way due to the distance and it was a bit of a mission to get them home….

The drive from Clearwater to Whistler via Lillooet was absolutely amazing.  Hung and I really enjoyed the drive along the winding mountain roads with the sheer drops to the canyon below with streams and rapids at the base.  I did most of the driving that day and had to sneek lots of peeks over the edge.  The kids ‘mostly’ sat quietly in the back, playing games or watching movies on their devices.  For I think the first time ever I heard Aiden say several times that he thought the scenery outside was amazing and beautiful.

We got tired about 6ish and didn’t think we’d make it to Whistler so we stopped in a tourist office carpark to sleep the night.  We left early in the morning and parked in the Nairn Falls Provincial Park carpark for breakfast with a forest view.  Aiden and Kai had a sleep in while the rest of us hiked the couple of kms out to Nairn falls.  It was beautiful early in the morning and a perfect way to start the day.  The falls were very powerful and we had a chat about hydroelectric power and how it is made.

We headed onto Whistler and spent the day walking around town.  I thought it was a fairly boring and typical tourist ski town.  Most of the skiing was finished although the slopes were still open.  We headed to our RV park early in the afternoon, where Leon and Lani went for a bit of a hike through the woods and then got Hung and I to follow.  Aiden and Kai hooked up to the wifi which was meant to be great according to reviews on google.  We all had a bit of a relaxing afternoon hanging around and after dinner we started a fire.  Usually Hung is very conservative with our firewood and only wants us to make a small fire but our neighbouring campsite had left behind a big pile of firewood when they left, and Hung was napping, so we took the opportunity to throw the logs on the fire and get nice and warm!  Leon, Lani and Aiden practised roasting their marshmallows and we enjoyed sitting and chatting by the fire for several hours.

The next day we drove to Squamish and spent the afternoon rafting down the Cheakamus River.  We suited up in our wetsuits, booties and helmets and jumped on the bus for the short drive to the river.  It was the first time any of us have been whitewater rafting and we had a great time.  The rapids were a grade 2 and were fairly gentle although they did speed up in a couple of places.  Maybe next time Aiden and Kai can go on their own to some faster and bigger ones.  The day was overcast and a bit windy but we all had on wetsuits and did a bit of paddling which kept us warm.  We stopped halfway down the river for an afternoon tea on the riverbank of delicious homemade hummus, carrots, bananas, potato chips and chocolate brownies.  Leon needed to pee so had to duck into the bushes and take off his wetsuit for a quick visit to the bushes.  Poor Kai had all the bad luck – getting hit in the head by our guides oar and then falling in when our raft ran over a massive rock and stopped mid-air sending him tumbling over the side into the freezing water.  He luckily didn’t hurt himself and it was very funny to watch!  Our guide was very chatty and friendly and suggested we travel to Vancouver Island via the Horseshoe Bay ferry to Nanaimo which we decided to do.  He also recommended a local Mexican place called Mags for us to have dinner, which we did. After our Mexican we pulled up just outside Squamish at a lovely campsite at the base of The Chief, a huge sheer rockface.  We were all tired after rafting and were in bed for an early night.  We left early the next morning and stopped for a walk to the Shannon Falls at the base of The Chief.  We then drove on towards Horseshoe Bay in North Vancouver to try to get on ferry to Nanaimo.  We got on one fairly easily and enjoyed the 90min ferry ride to the island.  When we arrived, we found a RV park on outskirts of Nanaimo surrounded by forested areas overlooking the bay.  We cooked dinner and Leon lit a fire with sticks he and Lani had collected.  In Nanaimo, Aiden enjoyed day out shopping in town, and added to his growing collection of nose rings, but the rest of us thought the town was grotty and not very interesting.

So far on our trip in the RV we have driven through so many areas with beautiful lakes, rivers and streams. It has made Hung really miss his kayaking and fishing which at home is his time out alone to refresh and get some exercise.  On our drive from Nanaimo to Victoria we stopped at Duncan and he bought himself a fishing rod and some lures while Leon and Lani bought more marshmallows to roast in our campfire.  

We arrived in Victoria on Saturday 4th May and our RV park was right on the harbour looking out towards the city.  It was quite expensive ($87/night) but it was really new and was very clean with fantastic facilities including a clubhouse overlooking the water with comfy couches and a TV.  It felt like a home away from home.  Kai and I walked the 3km along the harbour into the city and had dinner at Earls while Hung went fishing with Leon and Lani and Aiden went for a wander around our local area.  Kai and I caught one of the cute little ferries home across the harbour to our RV. The next day, Lani and I had a lovely ‘girls day out’ together.  The city is centred around Government Street and has lots of interesting little shops to explore.  Parts of the town were filled with smoke as a large building had caught fire in the early hours of the morning and burnt to the ground.  We wandered around town having coffee, ice cream and lunch out on our own.  We were able to both get our hair washed and a haircut which felt wonderful.  On the way home we walked to Fisherman’s Wharf and had fish and chips for dinner and Lani had another ice cream.  Leon spent a few hours out with Hung and found himself a special treasure for $4 at the thrift store – a puppet he named King Cody, which is providing many hours of entertainment.  

Aiden had a day out and met up with a friend of someone he knows from home.  He explored downtown area and spent his emergency money given to him for ‘emergencies’ – i.e. not shopping.  He came home with a floral shirt and a yellow polo shirt which he thought he needed to add more colour to his wardrobe.  He also came home with a ‘temporary necklace’ which he can tell you more about when you see him.

[spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence]

Two truths and a lie

Summary:

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Patton Sanders... Who is that crazy man on the floor? Why his husband of course! Don’t mind him. He’s playing a game with the dead.

Tw:Major character death. Sadness, madness, accidents, mention of an argument, funeral, panic attack (not really mentioned in detail.) Let me know if I missed any.

3099 words

Moxiety, human au.

Read it on ao3

Virgil doesn't know how he got there that morning. A combination of good friends and family's help supposedly. He can remember not sleeping, though he can bet he hasn't slept since the accident. He remembers his older brother Roman coming over. A black suit being taken out of the wardrobe- a suit full of memories. The suit Virgil had got married in. Roman had picked up the suit and helped coax Virgil to shower. How long had it been since he'd showered?

Too long.

Virgil had spent fourth minutes under that shower. He spent at least twelve minutes of that time with the water scorching hot, burning his skin to wake him up. Make him feel anything. He was in pain. Though he couldn't decide what he was in more pain about. He let his tears mix with the blazing water, let his body turn red. But then the hot water ran out. He was left to freeze; the cold didn't provide any relief. The cold was just uncomfortable. There was nothing special about it. He still stayed though. Until forty full minutes had passed. Almost on routine. An old forgotten routine that his mind had blocked out but his internal clock still remembered. He got out of the shower and fumbled for a towel. He wrapped it around himself and stood before his mirror. He stared down his reflection. His reflection glared back. Murky brown eyes with never ending bags, (he guesses his make up is no longer necessary as his undereyes are perfectly dark enough on their own.) boiled red skin that had looked pale earlier and greasy purple hair that had not seen a brush in months. Virgil doesn't think he's seen another person in weeks until today. Until Roman. It's overwhelming. A draining experience. He loves his brother but Roman can be rather social, more so when he's upset or nervous. Right now Virgil didn't need his ear to be talked off. He needed to sleep. He felt like he needed to sleep for ten years- maybe forever. He knew what was happening today but like the event itself, he hadn't taken it in. Hadn't gave it time to be absorbed and accepted. He doesn't think he's changed as slow as he did that day. Putting that suit on left him feeling a rollercoaster of emotions. Reminded him of bottled up memories from his wedding day, job interviews, fancy date nights, his brothers wedding. So many memories in the one black suit. Virgil and his partner had never exactly been rich so he could only afford the one so they had money for more important things.

Virgil remembers Roman tying his tie. He remembers Roman's husband Logan arriving and watching them bicker about Virgil's state in the kitchen when they thought Virgil wasn't listening. He remembers sitting in the back of their car and it finally hitting him where he was going. Finally.

The car had pulled up, the streets full of cars and people walking to enter the church. People who didn't really care. Virgil had linked arms with Roman for support. He entered the church and walked half way down the isle before his knees gave out beneath him.

He can't remember when he started crying. He can't remember seeing his family all freeze, all knowing nothing in how to deal with him in this state. They never had. Only one person had ever known how to help him. How to make him feel better. Only one person could help him to feel less broken then he did now.

"Virgil... Darling.. Breathe..."

Two hands gently rested on his knees he looked up to meet Patton's lovely green eyes. His face was twisted into a look of concern, replacing his usual sunshine smile. Virgil didn't care. He was so happy to see Patton. His husband. He tightly wrapped his arms around him and cried happily. People were staring but Virgil didn't care. It was Patton! He felt his breathing calm down and he felt his world feel at peace again once more. His angel had returned.

"Pat.. I- god I have so much to say. Please don't go anywhere. I love you. I love you so much and I want you to stay okay." His husband smiled sadly at him and he gently grabbed Virgil's hands. He reached them to Virgil's heart and spoke softly, "I'm right here baby.. Always have been and I always will be. Now how about you wipe away those tears and we play a game." Virgil was nodding his head frantically, he'd do anything with Patton. Anything for Patton. If Patton wanted to play a game he'd join in. Patton's angelic voice reached his ears again, "I'm going to tell you two truths and a lie ok sweetheart?" Virgil grinned, "But I know everything about you. This is easy." He swore that Patton's laughter bounced off the church walls like bells. Beautiful ringing bells like the ones you here at Christmas time. It made Virgil feel nostalgic. Made him remember many a Christmas sat by the love of his life by the fire with a piping hot mug of hot chocolate. Patton's secret blend with a bit of added cinnamon for that traditional Christmas taste. Piled high with fresh cream, marshmallows, dark chocolate shavings and a chocolate sauce. It had always been Patton's secret hot chocolate recipe. The perfect drink and the only other person who knew the recipe was Virgil. They'd sit there drinking it and watching the nightmare before Christmas despite both knowing every line off by heart. They'd talk over the movie about everything and anything. Virgil loved that about Patton. They knew everything about each other, every secret, every story and yet they could still talk to each other. There were still things to say. There was never a dull day. Never a lack of conversation. There was always something to be said. When Virgil took a deep breath he could smell Christmas. He could smell home. Patton had a distinctive smell. It lingered on everything Virgil owned. It lingered on Virgil's bed. On Virgil's clothes. On Patton's it was the strongest though. Virgil had spent months prior to this day huddled up in Patton's favourite cat hoodie. It had long since lost its smell of fresh strawberries and chocolate. It had long since been contaminated by Virgil's smell. No longer drawing comfort. Patton gently waved his hand in front of Virgil's face, "I lost you there for a minute love. I'll start ok? We got married in this church! We smashed that window at your mothers house and I am the worst party planner ever."

Virgil smiled warmly. He knew what the lie was instantly. Virgil had wanted to just get married in the courthouse. Just sign some paper and go but Patton had wanted something different. Virgil was an atheist and he wasn't exactly excited at the prospect of marrying in a church but he knew, like half of Patton's family, that Patton was catholic. He wasn't as firm a believer and he barely attended services those days but he still believed in everything they preached. Virgil had worried Patton wanted a big fancy church wedding but he was wrong when Patton had come home from work one day. His glasses pushed up into his hair as he wiped sweat from his forehead due to running home from some place.

"Look Virgil!" He had exclaimed, excitement lacing each word, "A beach wedding! We could have a beach wedding! Well not a beach but the pier.. Wouldn't that be nifty?" Virgil had laughed at him loudly, unable to keep himself from overflowing with happy, almost hysterical laughter. He remembers that Patton had pouted, crossing his arms and attempted to glare. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink due to his embarrassment and Virgil was so in love and so very gay, "That sounds great cookie. But when did you propose?"

"You have to do that first?!" Virgil had bursted into more laughter at his boyfriends antics. They had spent that night watching movies and cuddling together on the couch discussing their dream wedding. By the end of it Patton had actually proposed with a little haribo ring. His little speech had caused Virgil to cry and they'd gone to bed that night both feeling like they were floating on clouds. Virgil made it tradition to put on a new haribo ring every single day they were engaged until they could afford a real ring. They were barely paying the bills for their home each month and food was more important then their dreams. Virgil wanted to give Patton his dream wedding more then anything though and so he started working overtime; doing shifts until the early hours in the morning. Finally after a year of being engaged they had enough saved away to have their dream wedding. They were on their local pier, facing the ocean as they got married. Virgil had cried so much that day out of joy. He couldn't believe he had really done it. He'd married the man of his dreams. They'd not been able to afford a honeymoon but they didn't care. They'd gotten the perfect wedding and after all expenses were paid they realised that they didn't care about the location. They didn't care about the decorations or the views or the clothes or anything. All they cared about was each other.

"We didn't get married in a church."

"No, we didn't did we. We did however smash your mother's window." Patton grinned cheekily.

"We were sixteen Pat. You didn't mean to." Virgil had argued but his argument fell on deaf ears, "I threw rocks at your window like a cheesy romcom. It was so stupid Virgil." Virgil laughed and squeezed his husbands hands, "My turn.."

"We were married for sixteen years. We were planning on having kids. I can play the violin."

"Oh you can definitely play the violin." Patton grinned, "You're amazing at it and I don't understand why you never pursued a music career with a talent like yours instead of working at Walmart. We have been married sixteen years and counting." Patton winked at him with a bright smile, "Aaaaaand! We don't want kids. We never planned on it. As much as I love children I work with them everyday and I couldn't bare to have to have one at home too. You don't like kids and don't feel like we need them."

"I wish we had." Virgil commented, his tone slightly bitter but Patton seemed to wash over it.

"Okay! My turn again. We were late to your brothers wedding because you decided to 'save water' and crash my shower. You still have a MySpace account. And for your eighteenth I saved up money to take you to warp tour." Patton drummed his fingers on Virgil's knees waiting expectantly for the answer.

"You did take me to warp tour even though you hate it. And we were late to Roman's wedding on... Important business. The lie is that I still have a MySpace page. I deleted it the second I met you when we were 15 because I didn't want you to think I was weird." He knew that was stupid and he had told Patton that before but turns out deleting your myspace page but still acting cringy in real life makes you cringy with or without the account. And as it happened, Patton loved Virgil anyways.

Virgil tried to think of some good ones to say next. The game honestly felt more like fact recall then it did a challenge. They already knew the answers to everything they were saying but that didn't matter. It was fun. It was light hearted and it was what Virgil needed right now. Patton always knew what Virgil needed. He thought back to their first kiss. How they had just been sat with each other in Virgil's room working on homework together for school. Virgil had joked it was like a study date and Patton had held up his textbook and joked they had chemistry as they worked on their science homework. They were both awkward and very clearly into each other but neither had picked up on that yet and were too awkward to ask each other out. They were way to anxious and scared to ruin a perfect friendship. Virgil could never recall how exactly it had happened. He just remembers staring at Patton's pretty red lips as he rambled about how water is made potable and then suddenly the words were tumbling out of his mouth, "Can I kiss you?" Both boys had frozen. Too awkward teens sitting way too close with a relationship changing question just hanging in the air. The rest was a blur to Virgil. There was no fireworks like in the movies. There was no end sequence as everything suddenly fit into place. It was just a kiss. It was messy and desperate and awkward. It wasn't a fairytale and it didn't end in the boys happily linking arms and skipping off into the sunset. It didn't even end in them dating. There weren't sparks. There was nothing. They'd known each other for three months at that point. Three months slowly blossomed into three years of friendship. All feelings long forgotten after they both shut off the memory of their first kiss. Except the feelings never left. True, the kiss held no sparks. No fireworks. No montage queuing the rest of their life together but now Virgil realises that this was all because real life isn't like that. When Virgil kissed Patton three years after their first when they were eighteen there was still no fireworks. Instead there was an intense feeling. A feeling of safety, security and home. Love. They didn't need some spark. They weren't some fling. They were endgame. Then queue to five more years of dating, an underprepared engagement and a year of spending up until a wedding arrived and then sixteen years of marriage. Virgil had his fortieth birthday about six months ago. He never thought he’d grow old with anyone. He guessed that was true. He looked up into the emerald green eyes before him and traced a finger over Patton’s jaw.

“We had our first kiss when we were eighteen. Our first date was at the zoo and you’d been more interested in the giraffes then me. You know every MCR song off by heart because of me and sometimes despite finding their music too edgy you will sing it under your breath.”

Patton laughed, “In my defence! I don’t live with a giraffe and I can see your cute ass whenever I want. Also! Destroya isn’t a song normal people play at three am. But it’s all true except the kiss. We had that when we were 15 and then proceeded to pretend it never happened for three years.” Virgil nodded with a light smile, “Alright. Last round before I’ve got to go Virgil-”

“No doubt back up to heaven.” Patton fondly rolled his eyes at the comment, “Sure. Back to heaven. Ok. I’m watching you every single day. I love you so so much and I also wish we had kids.”

“The lie is you want kids. You really really don’t want kids.” Patton laughed again and spoke once more, “I really don’t. Guess it’s not a problem now.”

“I guess it’s not..” Virgil looked up at Patton again and gently pulled him close for a kiss. Virgil was sure he looked insane to his family. Talking to himself and kissing the air. He knew this wasn’t real. He knew the real Patton was waiting in a casket at the front of the church but just for a moment he let his lips lock with the vision he could see. The familiar taste of fruit tea and cookies. He let the smell of Patton envelope him. Let his only thought be of the sensation of kissing Patton one last time. He didn’t let his mind drift to the petty fight they’d had the morning of the accident. He didn’t let himself think that he’d let Patton leave that home without saying goodbye. Without saying I love you. He didn’t think about the fact that maybe if he hadn’t have got upset and argued about wanting kids that day that maybe Patton would have made it to the school safely and would have come home that night. They’d have watched a romantic comedy together and cooked pasta. They’d have cuddled up on their old couch and woke up the next morning with cramped necks and backaches but it would be fine because Patton would be alive and they’d both be happy. It was hard for Virgil not to blame himself. Hard to move on when his entire life was dedicated to Patton and Patton’s to Virgil. When Virgil opened his eyes and pulled away Patton was gone. He was surrounded by Roman and Logan who were hiding how crazy he looked from the rest of the room. Protecting him from the staring. He stood up after so long of crouching and crying. He walked on shaky legs towards that crushing truth. Standing before his husbands casket he pictured that sunshine smile one more time. Pictured those Emerald green eyes. He sat in his chair and waited.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate a life..”

And in less than three years Virgil would get back into the violin. He’d make a name for himself and play at local orchestras. He would make a living larger then his current and would be happy again. He would find another man. And maybe he wouldn’t love this man as much as he loved Patton but they’d still be happy. This man would have already had kids with an ex-wife and Virgil would be overjoyed when these children brought their kids over. Virgil’s grandchildren who would call him Granddad and make him cry tears of sheer joy. And down the years he’d tell these kids of the perfect romance. He’d tell them stories of all the amazing adventures he went on with ‘Mr Patton’ and he’d smile looking back at them. He’d make hot chocolate with fresh cream, marshmallows, dark chocolate shavings and sauce for his family at Christmas time and they’d watch the nightmare before Christmas. He’d cuddle with his husband on the couch until their necks got sore and their backs hurt. He’d laugh and cry and feel again.

But for now he grieved. And for now? That was ok.

[the-artistic-dragoness]

Cat Sanses!

Free to adopt. Please don't hurt them or I will hunt you down. If somebody wanted to do art of these guys, just tag me I guess. Or use catsanses? IDK. My mind kinda ran away with this. Sorry for all the text. 😿

**Please note: These guys aren't bittybones per se. They are fairly similar to the Puppy Papyri (created by nyehtish) in that they start around 2 1/2 feet but end up much taller. (Available as full sized or smaller.)**

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Very much as intelligent as humans and can speak as eloquently as you.

Sometimes use verbal tics (purring, meowing), but this is very dependant on the skeleton/situation. (Example: UF Sans types will subtly purr whilst flirting and all types will purr when very content.)

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

😸 Sans Classic (Genesis) :

Can grow to 5'1.

Open the dictionary to lazy, there's probably a picture of this guy underneath. Surprisingly motivated sometimes.

Very knowledgeable about quantum physics and astronomy. Please ask him about these, he loves to explain stuff.

Pretty observant. Good at figuring out situations and people pretty quickly. (Good for avoiding anxiety/panic attacks if he's aware you have them.)

Sometimes spaces out. Don't worry, he's just thinking!

Probably will stare at the sky and stars. Take him stargazing or to a planetarium and he will be absolutely transfixed.

Loves comfy clothes, warm places, and soft stuff. Blankets and beds are his jam.

Doesn't seem like it, but he's kinda sensitive about his height. (Sulks if teased too much.)

If you can get him to read to you, he does really good voices and seems to know just how to calm someone down when it's bedtime. If you're having trouble sleeping, he will curl around you and purr you to sleep. Just be aware that he might not want you to move in the morning!

He's actually light enough to pick up and kinda likes it when trusted people do that.

Can probably fix small stuff around the house if bribed/asked very nicely.

Loves to cuddle.

Connoisseur of greasy food and will love you if you get those industrial sized bottles of ketchup.

Pretty good at being soothing, despite his laziness. Good for people with anxiety/depression.

Cat based puns. All day, every day. (Not limited to just that though.)

😾 Fell Sans (Jaws) :

Can grow to 5'5.

Very protective of space (owner/companion(s) included depending on relationships) - might be good for those who are/were victims of abuse.

Please pet him he will melt and you will have a very happy cat on your hands. Or lap. You get the idea.

Not picky about food (will eat anything you make him, really) but loves his mustard and will totally have a secret stash of stolen condiment packets somewhere in the house.

Surprisingly introspective and would love to be your confidant. (It makes him feel needed and makes for a really good listener. Would never betray your trust.)

Get him a leather jacket. (Bomber jackets work too!)

Likes shiny stuff and may steal your jewelry. Keep an eye on him.

Would also likely chew your shoestrings and play cat's cradle with yarn or string left out.

Really good at massages if you can get him to do it. (Bribes maybe?)

Will be a bit clingy in crowded places. He doesn't care much for strangers but wants to protect you so bad.

Kinda lazy, but needs to move sometimes or he gets twitchy. Will play with feathered toys (and lasers), but is too lazy to go for birds.

Actually kinda suave? Still comes off as kinda dorky sometimes though.

Really likes knock knock jokes and can pull out some dark humor if he knows you're ok with that.

😺 Swap Sans (Captain) :

Can grow to 5'6.

Cannot teleport, but can run longer and faster than the others due to his more active nature.

Very fit, very strong. Could probably lift &/or carry you with little to no trouble.

Literal ray of sunshine, but needs to be complimented from time to time.

Give him tacos and open spaces to run around in and he will be in heaven. (If you want to join him, all the better!)

If you can catch him, he can be (semi-reluctantly) cuddled. (He just doesn't want to be seen as lazy. He loves hugs and just being around you in general.)

Loves candy and will need to be watched around holidays due to a surprisingly low level of inhibition.

Have a problem you need solved? Try this dude! He's a whiz at puzzles and gives some really profound advice despite his "childish" looks.

Totally amazing at video games. Please challenge this boy to racing games!

TACOS!!!! (Also has A Thing for ice cream. Moderation is key though.)

Would probably be an amazing dungeon master in tabletop RPGs like D&D.

Tells really good stories.

Loves riddles! He might reward you if you answer correctly with a hug or a high five!

😼 FellSwap (Red) Sans (Baron) :

Can grow to 5'4. Can be taller, as they usually strut around in heels or platforms. (It's for intimidation!!)

Limited teleportation skills. He's a little insecure about it, honestly. He's taken to martial arts to make up for it. (Pretty good with short swords and staves.)

Really good at math and mental calculation. Fast at figuring out the correct answers too.

Even more protective of "belongings" than Jaws.

More than happy to be spoiled.

Your house is his domain and he will walk around like it was his from the beginning.

He's actually a huge doofus with a big heart under all that bluff.

Is very attentive to trusted companion(s) needs. Example: Cold? Blankets will appear from seemingly nowhere. He will deny all accusations but he's smiling slightly when he thinks you aren't looking.

Has "refined tastes." (Just have Mexican food every once in a while, he'll love it. Most like burritos and fajitas.)

Give this fella some sewing supplies and you'll start seeing homemade clothing showing up in your wardrobe. Amazingly, it's always something that you'll look amazing in/is right up your alley. From formal wear to pajamas, if he's got the supplies, it's yours. (Be sure to compliment him after though!) Some Barons branch out into more than clothes too!

Really good at reading people. (He gives great gifts!)

Once he finds someone he can trust, he's like putty in their hands when it's just the two of them.

Will absolutely fight you over a burrito. You know you're in good standing if he offers it to you.

Really likes sodoku and number-based puzzles. If he figures out you like them too, you'll be challenged to a race! (He'll be really impressed if you win.)

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

While every Sans Cat is capable of summoning bones and blasters, they would much rather use alternate methods to escape bad situations. If absolutely terrified, however, they have the tendency to forget that they know how to teleport, leading them to freeze, fight, or flee depending on the Cat Sans.

😸 Genesis are the type to either not bother with combat by shortcutting out of there at the first sign of trouble. If this cannot be done; dodging, gravity-based attacks, dodging, and blasters (as a last resort) are used.

😾 Jaws are more likely to trap enemies within bones and/or smack them around with blue attacks to make them pass out (ideally), or use feint attacks only to disappear as soon as the foe looks away.

😺 Captains are fairly pacifistic, but will not hesitate to use their claws and bones if there is no other way. They are better equipped than Genesis and Jaws types (and Barons, to a degree) to take a couple hits due to their training.

😼 Barons are more likely to grab a nearby weapon (such as a pole, broom, or anything with a decent range) and whack the enemy over the head in order to stun them before making a getaway. If nothing is available, bones and claws are used.

[michael-hearteyes-wheeler]

Please do Mileven with #45!! PS I love your blog

Oops this got long! Thank you for the request !

45. “You look pretty hot in plaid.”

El had developed a bad habit.

She likes to steal people’s clothes. Well not steal, but borrow. She had worn other peoples clothes for so long out of necessity, that now it just made her feel safe. She would sneak into Hoppers drawers for an oversized t-shirt, or a warm flannel, she would wear one of Mikes jackets home and then just forget to give it back at the end of the night.

It became a pattern that her friends all caught on too right away when their wardrobes were suddenly picked over. So once every couple of weeks she would have to begrudgingly return everything. Dustin’s camp sweatshirt, lucas bandana, Max’s black high tops, Hoppers various t-shirts, and all of Mike’s jackets.

El liked holding onto these items because it made her feel like her friends were always close, even when they were at school all week. It made it easier when the nightmares got bad, or when her flashbacks haunted her while she was alone all day. At first it was sweet, and kind of cute; but now it was just part of the routine. No one questioned when their clothes went missing, and El always returned them eventually.

But now it was the coldest February in Hawkins in over 15 years, and Mikes warmest jackets were all mysteriously missing. He rolled his eyes looking over his nearly empty closet and pulled on a light sweater. It wasn’t nearly enough for the bike ride he was about to endure, but it would be worth it.

Mike and El always got to spend Sundays together, not every Sunday but almost. He had woken up extra early today, before the sun even rose because he was extra excited for this Sunday meetup in particular. Because today, Hopper wasn’t going to be there.

The police chief was a few towns over at some important law enforcement conference, it was a new year and that meant new regulations. The chief had reluctantly let Mike and El keep their date, and Mike was as giddy as a school girl to have entire day alone with El. Alone time did not happen very often, and he would make good use of every second of it.

The nearly 30 minute bike ride in the bitter cold made Mike feel like his fingers and ears were going to freeze off, but as he walked his bike up the path towards the secluded cabin, he couldn’t help but feel warm inside. The sun had just started to rise, casting a golden light over the snowy forest, and shining brightly through the plume of smoke rising out of the cabins chimney. He walked up to the door and knocked the secret knock, that familiar nervous feeling filling his stomach. He wondered if that feeling would ever go away, part of him hoped it never did.

A few minutes passed and the door remained closed, not a single sound coming from inside. He knocked again, slightly louder this time and the locks clicked open one by one. He pushed the door open but found the living room empty.

“El?” He called out, setting his backpack down and closing the door behind him. He heard a faint grubbly reply coming from her room and he chuckled. She was still asleep! “Can I come in?” He asked through the small crack in the door. Another mumbled reply that sounded somewhat like a yes came from behind and he pushed the door open.

El was curled up in bed under two quilts. Her face was smashed against her pillow so that only one foggy eye could look up at Mike. She sat up slowly, stretching and rubbing her tired eyes. Her messy curls stuck up in the back, and she had a smear of dried drool on her cheek. Mike couldn’t help but smile. Even like this she was beautiful.

“Its early.” She whined, pushing the comforters off of her.

“I know, i’m sorry I woke you up. I was just excited to see you.” Mike played with the hem of his shirt nervously. He hoped she wasn’t upset, he knew how cranky she could be without enough sleep.

“S’okay.” She mumbled, standing up and walking towards the boy. Mike could now see she was in fact not only wearing his warmest plaid flannel, but she was also wearing one of his t-shirts, and a pair of his sweatpants.

“Excited to see you too.” She smiled up at him blearily, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She jumped back, suddenly startled. “You are so cold!” Her eyes went wide.

“Well it’s freezing outside and I biked here. Plus you have my jackets.” He smiled wryly at her.

“I’m sorry, I will give them back today.” She pulled his hand and led him out to the small wood burning stove in the corner of the cabin. She forced him to sit down in Hoppers chair next to the fire and added a few logs to it. “Get warm, i’ll be right back.” She let go of his hand and made her way to the bathroom.

Mike listened to the sounds of her brushing her teeth, and he took the opportunity to toast his hands and try to get some feeling back in them. A few minutes later she walked out looking refreshed and radiant. Mike was still often shocked by how lovely she had become. She was no longer sickly thin, or pale, and her hair was getting longer every day, and her eyes seemed content whenever he looked in them.

She was still wearing his old red and black flannel, but she had changed into one of Nancy’s handed down dresses. It was light grey with shiny black buttons pinning it together from the bottom to the top. It had a thin red belt at the waist that El had tied in a bow. Her carmel curls were long enough for her to tuck behind her ears with the help of a few white hair clips, and she had washed the drool from her face leaving her skin looking refreshed and glowing. Mike marveled at how… normal she looked. Nancy and Joyce had helped her a lot with getting her clothes she actually liked, and with teaching her how to put together an outfit she felt pretty in. Mike thought she had done a damn good job.

El made her way into the kitchen and pulled out a box of Eggos from the freezer. She popped them in the toaster and clicked the gas oven on. “Are you hungry?” She asked Mike with a smile.

“Uh, yeah actually I am a little bit, but you don’t have to make me anything!” He stood up to join her in the kitchen.

“I want to! Hopper showed me how to cook eggs.” She grinned, turning a shade of pink, feeling strangely embarrassed. She got the carton of eggs from the fridge and cracked two into a cast iron pan. Mike was impressed as she scrambled them without incident. Eggs weren’t very hard, but it was still impressive to see her cook anything besides eggos and microwave dinners.

She plated up the waffles and eggs and Mike poured them both glasses of orange juice. They sat the table eating in silence for awhile before Mike finally spoke.

“So what do you want to do today?” He asked with a bit more enthusiasm then he had intended. He winced at how much a dork he sounded like. El just shrugged, seemingly unphased.

“Well… I brought over some of my D&D stuff, I thought I could finally teach you how to play!” He waited for her to turn down his offer but instead her eyes went wide.

“Yes!” She beamed, finishing off her last eggo.

“Really!? Cause we don’t have to…”

She stood up and grabbed his hand again, pulling him back into the living room. She sat expectantly on the couch, knees pulled up and smile wide. Mike couldn’t believe it. How lucky could he be? To have a beautiful girl who was actually interested in learning about nerdy board games? He fished around in his backpack, pulling out various photocopied manuals and a few hardcover books about medieval history and lore he had gotten for christmas.

They spent the next few hours going over the fantastical Dungeons and Dragons universe. Mike was more excited to share this world with her than he had realized. He went off on several dramatic tangents and reenactments. El hung onto his every word, even the ones she didn’t understand. Mike was a, what was the word max always used? A dork. And a big one. But she loved every moment of it. She liked being able to be a part of something that made him happy, and the game sounded fun, if not a little overwhelming.

Somewhere over the course of his explanation El had scooted closer to him to have a better look at the books. At this point she was leaning against his shoulder, he had one arm wrapped around her and was holding the large binder over their laps, gesturing to it with his free hand. Mike was just starting to explain to El what a mage was, and he went over the character sheet he had made for her in the year she was missing. El felt incredibly special to have been thought of as this though, brave, and heroic spellcaster that Mike had written her to be. She sighed, letting her worries flow out of her with her breath and sinking further into his embrace. She felt so safe when she was close to him, it was a feeling she never wanted to go away.

“So… what do you think?” Mike concluded, turning the last page over and closing the binder.

“It’s amazing.” She breathed. And honestly, it was. El felt her head swim with all of the new information, how anyone could remember all of it was astounding. The picture that Mike had painted seemed amazing, like a fairy tale. It was full of princesses, and fairies, and magic, and monsters too but they were not nearly as scary as the monsters they had faced together in real life.

“I’m glad you think so! I can’t wait for you to get to play with us! The campaign we are working on right now takes place in a desolate snowy tundra, and I think I know the perfect way to work you into the story.” Mike was practically jumping out of his skin.

“Tundra?” El echoed not understanding the word.

“Yeah it’s a really cold place where everything is covered in ice and snow. And there are basically no trees or plants or anything because it too cold for anything to grow.” Mike explained, flipping through his campaign notes and showing her a photocopied image of antarctica. “It’s full of snow monsters and evil ice wizards. The guys got stuck in a blizzard last time we played, but Will found some enchanted snow resistant armor in a cave and saved them. It was awesome.” Mike was excitedly rambling again.

“It sounds… awesome.” El rolled the new word around on her tongue. She had heard the boys use it before but she had never used it herself. It felt fun to say.

“I wish I had that armor now.” Mike said motioning to the window. It was snowing outside again and the sky looked chilly and blue.

El frowned, realizing that it was getting late, and that Mike would have to leave soon. Not only that, but he would have to endure the bitter cold all the way home. She shifted out of his arms and stood up, walking in her room.

She came back a few minutes later with a massive pile of laundry in her arms. It had to be at least a dozen jackets, sweaters, and shirts. She dropped them in a heap on the end of the couch and smiled shyly.

“Sorry I kept all of your clothes.” She blushed, and reached up to pull of his flannel that she was still wearing.

“Hey no, it’s okay!” Mike stood up and pushed the flannel back onto her shoulders. “I like that you take my clothes, it’s kind of cute.” He grinned at her, his eyes full of warm adoration. El felt her own heart twist, he always looked so pretty when he was embarrassed.

“Plus… You look pretty hot in plaid.” Mike added a few moments later. Then, realising what he had just said, his eye shot open wide and he looked down at his feet.

El knew what Mike looked like when he was embarrassed, but she wasn’t quite sure what he had meant by his statement. “Hot?” She questioned. His flannel did keep her warm, but that wasn’t really why she took it, and she wasn’t sure how someone could look warm.

“Uhh… yeah. Hot.” Mike shuffled awkwardly, taking a few paces backwards, his face beet red. “It’s like another word for pretty, but its… different. I shouldn’t have said it.” He cleared his throat in the tension.

Els face fell. She shifted from feeling confused to feeling hurt. Mike called her pretty all the time, and he had taught her that gorgeous, beautiful, and cute were all different words for pretty as well, so why was this word different? And why was it wrong?

“Why not?” She asked, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Because… because it’s not a very nice way to say pretty. It’s rude.” He played with his fingers, still looking at the ground.

“Not pretty?” El felt her gut stir. She could understand what he was trying to say.

“No! You are so pretty, El! You know that I think you are so beautiful.” He stepped forward and grabbed her by both of her shoulders so he could look into her eyes. “And I think you’re… hot too if i’m being honest. It’s just not a very nice thing to call a girl. Even if it’s true.” The blush returned to his face, he couldn’t lie to her even if it was uncomfortable to admit.

“Why is it not nice?” She felt reassured at flustered grin, but she still didn’t understand.

“Ughh…” He sighed, sitting back on the couch and pulled El down with him. Their knees touched as they faced each other. “It just is. It’s like really REALLY pretty, but in an… aggressive way, I guess.” he couldn’t figure out how else to explain it, and her certainly didn’t want to have to explain its more romantic implications.

El bit her lip. So he thought she was really pretty, but it was also aggressive? It clearly made him nervous, and something about the look in his eyes made her chest tighten. Sometimes she thought Mike was so pretty it made her feel almost unsettled too, maybe even ‘aggressive’.

“Okay. Hot.” She felt herself giggle at saying the word in this context, and she could read the underlying tension in it.

“Yeah…” Mike blushed deeper and bounced his knee the way he so often did when he was nervous.

“Mike?” El asked putting a hand on his leg to steady it. “You are… hot too.” She tried to sound confident but her stomach felt like it was full of bumblebees.

Mike chuckled, obviously startled by what she had said and he grabbed her hand in his own. “Thanks, El. but I can’t believe that you think im hot.”

“I think you are beautiful, Mike.” She said sternly, inching closer to his on the couch. “And smart, and funny, and kind. You make me happy and keep me safe.” She looked deeply into his eyes, her face completely serious.

Mikes heart soared. How had he gotten so lucky? Before El no girl would look twice at him, and the ones that did just called him names. But now he was inches away from an absolutely amazing, badass, gorgeous, and hot, superhero of a girl. And she liked him the same. He leaned forward into her and pulled her into a tender kiss. Every kiss with her felt like magic, and it always left him feeling completely breathless and giddy. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. Their faces were matching in a warm flushed pink.

“You are the best person I have ever met El. I am so lucky that I get to spend time with you, and be your friend and, kiss you.” He whispered to her, looking into her eyes so closely that they were blurry.

“No, Mike. I am the lucky one.” Her face was serious again, but Mike could see the pain buried deep within them, and the adoration pulling at the corner of her lips.

Mike pulled her into a warm hug. He knew that he would have to leave in a few minutes to be home in time for dinner, but for right now he only wanted to think about El. About the smell of her vanilla shampoo, and the sound of her breath as he hugged her tightly.

“El? Why don’t you keep this jacket.” He tugged at the hem of it after breaking the hug. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Hot?” She asked with a faint smile, cracking a silly pose.

He laughed hard, her sense of humor always caught him by surprise, she was actually really funny when she wanted to be. “Yes hot.”

After a few more minutes of precious alone time, and a couple more small innocent kisses, Mike finally had to pack up his D&D stuff (and all of his jackets) and set out into the cold winter night. He braced himself for the cold, but his stomach felt content and warm. It had been a good day, and the entire bike ride home went by in a blur because his thought were racing as he replayed it over and over again.

‘I love her so much.’

He thought to himself as he pulled into his driveway. It was a thought that surprised even himself, but he knew it was true. He loved her. More than anything else. And one day he was going to tell her that, but for now he was just trying to get over the fact that he had called her hot, and that she had returned the compliment.

[missygalaxy]

Missigalaxy Has Everything You Need

If you are looking to completely revamp your wardrobe, Missy Galaxy is the place for you. With MissiGalaxy you can get everything you need for your spring, summer, autumn and winter wardrobe so that you are set for the whole year! With outfits for nights out, coats, jackets, bikinis, dresses and so much more, you won’t have to look anywhere other than Missy Galaxy ever again for your clothes.

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When the time comes to add some warmth to your wardrobe, you can find the perfect clothing on MissiGalaxy with jackets, coats, boots, and more. Whilst enjoying yourself in the sun in some bright colours is great, winter clothing is so much better with all of the different options. Faux fur, animal print and comfortable coats, nothing beats being able to wrap up warm during the winter, so head to Missy Galaxy and find everything you need to make sure you’re not freezing this winter!

FIND EVERYTHING YOU NEED FOR YOUR HOLIDAY

We all love relaxing in the sun, going to pool parties, barbeques, or just going for a sunny stroll in the park. This summer, you can grab everything you need for your summer wardrobe on Missy Galaxy without having to leave the house and run around the shops when you can just be relaxing in the sun or jetting off on holiday. Whether you’re enjoying the sun at home, or you are off on a sunny holiday, have a look at the sun dresses, bikinis, shorts, vests, wedges, sunglasses, and everything else, on Missy Galaxy.

STAY ACTIVE

Many of us have become more active over lockdown or are disappointed with how unactive we have been, and we want to get back into it, and what better motive is there than getting some beautiful new sportswear to train in? Gym pants are the perfect addition to any wardrobe, and you can never have too many pairs, they aren’t only great for running, yoga, and all other fitness, you can just throw them on to run your errands and do a bit of shopping. That is the amazing thing about sportswear, it is so convenient. Trainers, sports bras, gym pants, jackets and more can be found on Missy Galaxy.

ALL YOU NEED IS LOUNGEWEAR

Loungewear is so diverse, so you can never have too much of it. You can get loungewear that is perfect for sitting around the house in, doing some yoga or workouts in, and even heading out for brunch in, just with one outfit! Check out the pyjamas and loungewear on Missy Galaxy and grab yourself a few bargain pieces for any occasion. If you want to look good but feel comfortable, loungewear is definitely the way to go.

ACCESORISE

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Source from: shorturl.at/cduEY

[dbdecibals]

A small start to a short story, thats not finished yet, that will be one of my main characters going forward into a novel I've been concoking for a about 6 years but finally having a good starting point with this piece I'm writing. I know there will be grammar mistakes and such. I just want to know how the story is flowing and if it is intriguing enough to want to continue on. Hope you peels will enjoy it, cheers! I

TW: Torture, little bit of manipulation.

Conversion

 

               Room spinning in darkness, why is it so dark. Do I even have my eyes open?

Hearing dull, dampened shrills of pain and shrieks somewhat far away.

Ahh gods that noise, why do I hear this? Am I in a dream?

Feels something brush against her cheek. Feeling the same sensation on the top of the dome, sensory mechanisms are starting to wake up again. Why is there this tethered bag like a potato bag over my head. So hard to breath. What’s going on?

Struggling to let in small inhales of life and exhales out death. Why is it so hard to breath, and painful?

Lets in a deeper inhale and coughs hard, feeling warm liquid spout across the fabric ingulfing her head. What the… is that blood or saliva?

She inhales through the nostrils, worst mistake. A surge of pain runs throughout her sinus cavity into straight into the head. Let’s out shrilling scream of agony, nothing but small squeaks came out from the pain of breathing. Tears fall and she tries to stand but fails from her legs being bound to a chair.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! Anxiously, she began to fight with the ropes tying all limbs to what feels to be a chair, and starts to shiver, gaining back more of her sensory receptors feeling throughout her body.

            Something feels off why does chair feel cold and- Wait why am I wet? Her heartbeat skyrockets, then a loud low bass pitched sound slow begins to grow louder and louder till it hits a high enough range before she could barely hear it.  Wait… NO PLEASE NO FOR THE LOVE OF-, before she could finish her thought a force of heat radiates through her whole body sending the body spazing out of control and back trying to arc but can’t. Sparks viciously attacks the chair and her entire body. Then silence. Body grows numb again.

               Ugh where am… I, how long uuuugh, body starts to gain back the pain receptors through grunting softly, how long have a been in here? Wait I remember someone, no wait, others… what others are-. Memories start to slowly come back. Remember being with a group of other people. Family? No no no no, they were someone else, wait no something else. In in in a large corn field. Heartstarts to race again then hearing the low drum coming on again, NO NO stop! Breath in and out calmly come on. In unison the nerves cease, the beating of blood slows. Phew ok. So whatever I’m in, I can’t get too nervous… greeeeat like that’s going to be-. A loud bang goes off in the space. Frightening her, escalating her nerves and senses, lets out a few tears knowing what comes now. AAAAAAAAAAGH!

               She starts to cry again. Alone. Helpless. The unknown breaking her down mentally.

             Vibrations of a sound old iron screeching loud, grinding together echoes in the area, reverberating into her body. The feeling of footsteps stepping closer and closer. Something of an average size thing being sensed in the room. What is this… thing what does it want? Some vibrations like speaking muffled to an almost deaf sound hitting against her ear drums. Then a loud squelching, white noise sound bursts through the female’s head. Retching in pain and screaming aloud. Midway through the agony, sound begins to register through her ears. Someone’s breathing? The girl tries to talk but nothing. What is going on here?

               Chuckles vibrate through her whole skull. “How do you like our new little our toy, hmmmmm?

               Wait how can-

               “Hehe feeling uncomfortable about me being in here, hmmm?” Feeling nerves running wild through her pain receptors, feeling of tingling sensations but not by her control. Perception of tingling running through her face left to right, front and back. “So we are gonna play…. A fun little game. Would you like to cooperate and partake?”

               Do I really have a-

               “Nope, you really don’t in this situation. So shall we begin?”

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

 

               With a yelp in a cold sweat, breathing heavily, a young adult male sits up in a bed. Stares into space to catch his breath. Observes a moonlight uncovering little bit of the space with a cool chill in the night. Looking around the room intently, hoping this is reality. Staring carefully into the shadows, making sure the nothing is out of the ordinary. Turning around slowly, feeling like someone is watching him. Let us out a sigh and calms down, relieved nothing is there.

Still feeling little uneasy, pulling the covers away from his flesh to take a step out of bed. Standing up steadily, walks over to the closet. Starts combing through his large array of clothing wardrobe. T-Shirts, athletic ware, dress shirts, band names represented on black tees. He stops. Looking at a wonderous array of another type of clothes. Hesitates a second, looks over his shoulder. His gaze comes back to the clothes in front of him. Picks out a top from the selection, pulls out a drawer scanning to find the right- Ah hah! These ones! Selects a pair of undergarments, some socks, finds a pair of bottoms to match. A sense of joy overcomes the young man. As he changes into the new clothes, enjoyment springs throughout his whole body. Something about these products of cotton and silk design could feel so exhilarating, right, and confident. He stands up, maneuvers over to the mirror and stares with glee, as his own image. Hehe this feels so good. Heh I look good. Blushes, feels something he hasn’t felt in a long time, himself. Poses in the mirror to see over every inch of his body. Feeling his heartbeat speed, feeling something lengthening. Aye stop, stop! Geez I know I’m gorgeous but come on. Closes his eyes. Inhales in deep breathes with a steady exhale, fixating his mind in a blank abyss of space. In a matter of moments, the sensation ceases. He giggles while blushing feeling this amazing euphoric moment, wanting time to stand still. That moment being able to be himself. Not having to worry about judgement, or what others thought of him from just his appearance. The moment fades away with a smile disappearing. One of these days it’ll be different. Just hope that day will come sooner than later. A big sigh comes from his exhale, just wish people wouldn’t care how someone looks. Wish there were more like me.

A small rush of wind besieges the room with a faint voice. He turns around, as though hearing a call from the window. Freezes with a curious look, hello? He carefully walks over to the window. Peeking out the window he sees just a quiet, simple large town. The buildings nestled on a sloop running up toward him. Mixed variation of clouds gliding through the air, as ships of the heavens through a sea of stars. A moon quarter of the way full. He stares into the moon, hypnotized. Inhales deeply focusing his energy up into the soul of the moon. Interlocking his aura with the heavenly body, feeling the vibrations flowing through his body. A faucet unhinged wide open. Sensing the vibrations running through his blood, tissues, and muscle. A grand feeling of comfort and warmth. He could feel a pulling sensation of his negative emotion, exorcised from his mind. Huh I guess someone else agrees for once. He chuckles to himself awakening his thoughts letting go of the moon. Thank you. Gestures a slight bow.

Looks back at his bed, nods, and starts to unsheathe his body from the clothes. He carefully sets them back to where they were originally, a hard spot to look at from a first glance. As soon they’re hidden, climbs back into his cave of blankets. He slowly starts to slip back into a deep sleep. His mind falling into the depths of relaxation. Time and space ceasing to exist, free floating into unconsciousness.

__________________________________________

[thebarsondaily]

Love Bites by theoofoof

Title: Love Bites Author: theoofoof Rating: T/Pg-13/12A Prompt: Scarf Summary: “You’re not funny,” Rafael retorts. “And this isn’t funny either.” A/N: My first foray into one of these fic-a-thons for SVU/Barson. First time ever I’ve done a prompt too… Hope it’s not too awful.

Oh God, it’s ugly.

That is Rafael’s first thought upon seeing it. He stands, bare-chested, staring furiously at it in the en-suite mirror as if that will somehow scare it away. Parts of it are bright red, others purple and he can already tell it is only going to get worse before it gets better. It doesn’t help that the surrounding skin is unmarred, drawing further attention to it and, unfortunately, there’s no denying what it is.

He fingers the skin, glancing at Olivia’s reflection in the mirror. It’s early, just gone five-thirty but, despite the hour, she looks gorgeous. Her hair is tousled from sleep, and she’s wearing nothing but his dress shirt and her panties.

“What’s the matter?” she grins at him through the open doorway. “Want me to do the other side too so you’ll match?”

“You’re not funny,” Rafael retorts. “And this isn’t funny either.” He uses the fingers of both hands to stretch the skin, examining the damage more closely.

“It is a little, actually.” Walking up behind him she wraps her arms around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. She meets his eyes in the mirror. “I didn’t hear you protesting at the time.”

She’s right of course, he hadn’t. In fact, he vaguely remembers encouraging her. But that was before he realised he’d have to sit through a meeting with Rita Calhoun with an obvious hickey.

“Well, no but…”

She hadn’t meant to brand him like that; she’d just gotten carried away. It had been one of the few nights since their relationship began that they’d had the apartment to themselves. Noah stayed over at Amanda’s – she and Carisi took him and Jessie to a Sunday afternoon showing of the movie ‘Coco’ and offered to keep him overnight to allow Olivia some ‘me time’.

Needless to say, she and Rafael took full advantage of it, spending a very enjoyable afternoon and evening in bed. Olivia hadn’t even realised she’d left a mark on him until his outraged cry woke her a few moments ago.

Olivia sweeps her hair off her shoulder, exposing a similar red mark on her own skin, just below her ear. It seems she hadn’t been the only one who got carried away.

“Hey look. I got one too, but you don’t see me complaining.”

“Yours isn’t anywhere near as big as mine,” he points out. He knows he’s being difficult, petulant even, but he can’t help it. “And you have hair that can cover it.” He sighs. “You couldn’t have aimed a bit lower, so it would be underneath my collar? I can’t go to work like this; I’m meeting with Rita this afternoon. If she sees this, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Olivia rolls her eyes and steps back, retreating to the bedroom. He follows her, after a shooting a few more hard glances at the offending mark on his neck, to find her on her hands and knees – rooting in the bottom of her closet. Her position provides him with a rather tantalising view and for a second he’s transported back to the previous evening, some of his earlier annoyance fading away.

Olivia mumbles a quick, ‘a-ha’ when she finds what she is looking for. Using the bedframe for leverage, she pushes herself up off the floor and onto the bed. She hands him a small wrapped package. The paper was silver, adorned with red hearts. “I was saving this to give you for Valentine’s Day, but in light of your… situation,” she gestures at his neck, “it might be more beneficial now.”

With a small tilt of his head, Rafael takes the proffered gift from Olivia. He peels back the end flaps of the wrapping paper carefully before slowly sliding his finger underneath the seam. From inside, he removes a grey, lidded box. Upon opening the box, he finds a black, plaid scarf. His fingers run slowly over the material, enjoying its softness.

Rafael’s brow furrows. “You bought me a scarf?”

She sits on the mattress, crossing her legs in front of her. “Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, Liv.” He drops a kiss to the top of her head. “You have good taste mi amor; it’s exactly the kind of thing I’d have picked for myself. Thank you.”

“I know we said we weren’t going to do presents but…” she shrugs. “I saw it in a shop window and I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Why though? It’s almost Spring.”

“You’ve lost yours, and I felt sorry for you the other night, standing outside Forlini’s, waiting for our Uber. You were clearly freezing. And who knows how long this latest cold snap will last?”

“My Cuban blood is not meant for New York in winter,” he agrees. Especially this winter, the temperatures had been at a record low, thanks to the recent blast of Arctic air the city had been hit with. “But I’ve told you, my scarf isn’t lost, it’s just… misplaced.”

Olivia scoffs. “Whatever you say counsellor.”

In truth, Rafael doesn’t have a clue where it is, he just doesn’t want to admit that to Olivia. The last time he remembers having it was two weeks ago in the back of an Uber after they’d been on a date. But, he rationalises, when you’re splitting your time between your apartment, your office and your girlfriend’s apartment things are bound to go missing. He wonders if five months is too soon to be thinking about doing something about that aspect of their relationship.

He’s sure his scarf will turn up eventually. The chances are Noah has hidden it somewhere; hiding Rafael’s things has become his new favourite game. Although, usually it’s his keys or his phone; things that the five-year-old thinks that Rafael won’t be able to leave without. In his mind, if ‘Uncle Rafa’ doesn’t have them, he will stay at the apartment and play with him some more. It’s flattering – he’s amazed and humbled at the boy’s affection for him, but it has almost made him late for court on several occasions.

“Rafa?” Olivia’s voice breaks into his contemplations. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry, mi amor, what were you saying?”

“That until your misplaced scarf turns up, you’ll have another. Although I can’t believe you, of all people, only owned one scarf to begin with.” It astounds her. This is the man who owns ties and suspenders in almost every imaginable colour and pattern, yet he only had one scarf!

“When you’re finished criticising my wardrobe choices, do you think you could you explain exactly how this supposed to help me today?”

“It’s a scarf,” Olivia said, as if the answer should be obvious. “You wear it around your neck.”

“Yes, when you’re outside. Rita is coming to my office. It’s not like we’re meeting on the ski-slopes of Gstaad,” he deadpans.

Olivia holds back her eye-roll. “Wear it anyway. Call it a fashion statement.” She grins mischievously. “Or you could always turn the heaters off and tell Rita they’re broken.” She takes the woollen material from him, looping it around his neck. “See, problem solved. You can’t even see it.”

He is unconvinced, glancing over his shoulder to try and make it out in the bathroom mirror. “Really?”

Olivia pulls gently on the scarf, bringing his face down to meet hers. “Really,” she murmurs against his lips before capturing them in a heated kiss.

As Rafael pushes her back down onto the bed, he vaguely remembers that it is exactly this type of activity that got him into this predicament to begin with. But, as she rolls them over and straddles his hips, he finds he doesn’t care…

[lilibug--xx]

Pressed For Time, 1/2

This is a two-part ficlet. All those skirts Betty was wearing in 2x02, those short skirts, have inspired this. Part 2 will be NSFW

Read on AO3 here

Betty was frustrated. She was going through the skirts in her wardrobe like they were burgers Jughead was eating. Except she wanted Jughead to eat her. She’s going to have to up her game to get what she wants. 

Betty was frustrated.

There were a whole slew of other words she could tack on as well: wound up, desperate, impassioned, aching, hungry for more.

She sunk down further in the bathtub, water threatening to slosh over the side at the movement. Her chin tucked to her chest, feet sticking out the water at the other end, toes playing with the knob, letting trickles of cool water leak into the hot. She blew a breath of air out her mouth in a sigh, the hairs that had escaped her bun fluttering up from their position in front of her face.

She tilted her head back, stretching her neck over the edge of the tub, arms dangling off the sides of the claw foot. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the thoughts from her brain. But, she couldn’t.

Betty couldn’t stop thinking about that night after the Jubilee.

The night her and Jughead almost had sex.

The night he almost fucked her.

Almost being the operative word.

He had her up on the kitchen counter, was attacking her mouth and neck like she was a snack. She had been panting, chest heaving. She helped him get his sweater off and then her shirt followed to the floor. Could feel his lips at her throat, hands moving from her face down her shoulders. Thumbs brushing over her nipples, hands circling the indent of her waist. She had tiled her head to the side, banging it back against the cabinet when he sucked a bruise into her collarbone. Jughead’s hands moved further down to her knees, pulling them up higher around his hips as he pressed forward against her. She felt his arousal against her belly, straining in his jeans. His hands settling high on her thighs under her skirt – his fingers were just skimming the edges of her underwear when they were interrupted by a knock on the trailer door.

She had been scared and later devastated at the interruption. She had been worried it was her mother, but it turned out to be the Serpents. Jughead had stepped out to talk to them and she fanned herself with her hand. Her cheeks and chest were flushed. She hopped down off the counter, picking up Jughead’s cable knit sweater and pulling it on over her head. It fell a bit above where her skirt ended, big and warm and comforting over her. She gripped the edges of the sleeves as she watched from the kitchen doorway, the way her boyfriend slipped the leather jacket on over his shoulders, green snake embroidered on the back staring at her with piercing eyes.

“Juggie?” she had said softly, leaning against the wall. He looked over to her, smile falling from his lips. She swallowed. The jacket fit him like a glove. Looked good, no amazing, on him. She really did not want to analyze what this was going to mean for them, for their relationship. But the way he turned back to them without saying anything to her, eyes turning cold, she knew they weren’t going to be continuing their prior activity.

So now, days later, Betty was soaking in the bath. She wanted Jughead more than ever.

He hadn’t worn the jacket since that night, but he had spoken with the Serpents. Had gone to them for help. Was riding his dad’s motorcycle – and was hot as hell doing it. She supported him, told him that when they were leaving the hospital the other day. She meant it, she really did. She loved him after all.

So why haven’t they finished what they started that night at the trailer?

Of course, they had other problems. Like Fred getting shot, the diner threatening to close, Grundy getting murdered, FP’s case, Thornhill burning. Everything was a mess.

But Betty still wanted Jughead. She wanted his hands and mouth on every part of her body. She only felt slightly guilty letting these thoughts consume her over the other issues, she was a teenage girl after all. With a leather jacket, motorcycle riding, hot as fuck boyfriend who would not fuck her.

Since that evening at the hospital she had taken to wearing skirts – they were easy access and she had great legs. They were an easy way to attract attention. Except that Jughead was so preoccupied he barely noticed. Even the shorts she wore to Vixen’s practice were making more of an appearance, but to no avail.

Betty was seriously frustrated.

Tomorrow was the Retro night at Pop’s, and she had planned out the perfect outfit. Of course, all the other Vixen’s would also be wearing the tight yellow t-shirt and maroon short shorts, but of course her boyfriend would only be looking at her. She also couldn’t wait to see him in his Pop’s uniform. Her thighs clenched together at the thought, his arms would be on display and she imagined them wrapping around her legs, lifting her up against him again.

She groaned, pulling a hand down to her center under the water. Her fingers touched the wetness there, fingers gliding through her folds. Betty bit her lip, index and middle finger drawing circles around her clit. She had masturbated more in the last two weeks than all of previous times combined. Thinking about Jughead’s lean chest, broad shoulders, his fingers pressing against her skin – the way he held her hand, gripped her waist, tucked her hair behind her ear, cupped her jaw and neck when they kissed, hands snaking up her skirt, or curled in the hair of her pony tail and tugging on it.

Betty sighed against the steamy air, two fingers sliding into her pussy and pumping in and out. Her thumb brushed her clit slowly. Biting her lip, she brought her free hand up to her chest, fingers dipping between the line of her breasts and then tracing each of her nipples in turn.

She thought about how Jughead’s fingers might feel, doing these things to her. His bigger hand inside her pussy, fingers curling inside her. She moaned, her fingers mimicking. Could almost feel his throaty chuckle against the skin of her neck, hear his pants in her ear as he thrust his fingers against her. She shuddered, not realizing she had been close to cumming already. She clenched around her fingers, palm flattening against her clit as she ground hard against herself. Pinched her nipples, twisting slightly.

Betty sighed Jughead’s name as she came, hips jerking against her hand. Letting out a shaky breath, her hips stilled. She dropped her hands back over the edges of the tub, relaxing into the water as some of the tension left her body post-orgasm. Then opened her eyes and starred at the ceiling.

She needed to up her game.

***

Okay, so she had an amazing time at Pop’s. Retro night was so fun and the turn out, which had started out slow, ended up being great. And the Pussycat’s killed their ‘Milkshake’ cover (Cheryl included). Pop had made a little speech, thanking her and she had felt her heart swell. She was so glad that she could help, that she could do something, save something in this town that was going to shit. Of course the donation Veronica’s parents provided helped, too. Her mother ruined it later for her, with talk of drug deals and complaining about the Serpents. But she was still trying to forget that portion of the night.

She had Jughead had been close and touchy feely the whole night. He had wrapped his arms around her during the concert, her back against his chest. She had backed up against him as close as she could, swaying to the music with him, happy to see a smile of his face. It made her heart ache to see him happy. However he didn’t take her bait when she kept wiggling her hips and subtly grinding on him.

They shared an amazing kiss, his words when the Serpents had shown up had set her on fire combined with the look in his eyes and the finger he had used to tilt her chin up to him. Then sitting in the booth across from Veronica and Archie, pressed close into his side. He had slid his hand up and down her back before moving along her shoulder, wrapping his whole arm around her and pulling her close, his hand wrapping around her elbow and holding.

She had sucked down her strawberry milkshake in order to cool off, brain freeze be damned. Her hand had landed on his upper thigh afterwards and she had left it there the rest of the time they were sitting. Her fingers scratching lightly against the white slacks, they continued to wiggle higher but Jughead seemed unaffected, just his normal self. He had given her a cute kiss on the nose, making Archie fake gag. Betty threw a handful of fries at him, complaining about the view from her window and the fact that she had already seen way more than she needed to of him and Veronica.

Betty had been watching him all night, sure he had looked her over when they first got to Pop’s all dressed up. His gaze didn’t linger more than normal though, kissed her, but didn’t stare or sweep her off her feet like she secretly wanted him too. But he had seen her in shorts before, regardless of how short and tight these were. It wasn’t completely uncharted territory, his hands hand been on her thighs, gripping and edging higher up before. Plus they were in public, and working.

How many skirts did she have to wear for him to take a fucking hint though?

She had worn a skirt every day this week, besides the shorts at Pop’s and her Vixen’s shorts she had worn after practice when he came to pick her up on his motorcycle two nights ago.

And god, what a fun conversation screaming match with her mother that had been. She threatened Alice, saying she would stop taking her birth control and just see what happened (empty threat, of course). Maybe it would be a good thing for her and Polly to have children about the same age. That shut her mother up quick. Alice would rather have her daughter on the back of some motorcycle then a grandmother twice over. Of course, her mother now thinks she’s having sex with Jughead. Betty didn’t correct her because wanted it to be fucking true.

She felt like she was spiraling down an endless hole, with the walls too tight – she had to suck her belly in, make herself small. The air hot, moist and filling her throat and lungs like fog creeping over a graveyard. Her hair was too tight, clothes uncomfortable, skin itchy. She could only make herself cum so many times before it felt uncomfortable and wrong. The empty feeling inside of her growing and expanding and making her irritable – and dark.

Betty had exhausted her supply of skirts within two weeks, surprised she had that many, actually. She was going to have to dip into dresses which she wasn’t really about, unless for a formal event, or go out and buy a few more (maybe shorter) ones. Things were hard (that’s what she said) when Jughead didn’t even go to Riverdale High anymore.

They saw each other everyday after school though. He would come to the Blue and Gold office and work on articles with her, Kevin, and Midge who had recently joined up. She was, of course, glad that her efforts of revitalizing the paper were successful – but she missed being able to be alone with Jughead. She could have locked the door and thrown him down on the couch.

Her mother had enforced a strict curfew after Moose had been shot down at Sweetwater, the same night as Retro Pop’s. There were now three victims of ‘The Black Hood’ shooter. Otherwise, she would most definitely have been over at the trailer with Jughead. Of course, FP had come yesterday anyway. Jughead was still supposed to be with his foster family until the rest of the trial played out, but he wasn’t. Had never planned on living in the nice cedar front home, swing set in the back.

With Fred still on the mend, Archie and Jughead were working at the construction business in efforts to help. FP was going back to work as the foreman tomorrow. The boys after school, and FP during the day. The thought of her boyfriend sans shirt or in just a muscle shirt made her squirm in her seat. Which, she really shouldn’t be doing at the dinner table.

Alice quirked an eyebrow at her, eyes watching her carefully. Betty plastered on a smile and stabbed a broccoli floret sharply, fork screeching across the plate shrilly. “I’m going to go shopping with Veronica tomorrow,” she spoke up, eyes challenging.

Polly had already retired to her room for the evening for a nap, having eaten earlier before Betty had come home from Vixen’s practice Hal was still at the Register, like he had been all week. These one on one sessions with her mom were killing her. She ground her teeth together so hard the other night that she had to ice her jaw.

“And pray tell, what will you be shopping for?” she sounded offended, like she had already given Betty everything she could possibly want.

“I’m looking for a new set of cheer shoes, the ones I have are rubbing some blisters on my ankle. I want to try some on,” praying to god her mother wasn’t really the devil. Her brain imagining Alice asking to see the supposed blisters and a hand coming down against her cheek when there weren’t any. The words ‘Serpent Slut’ echoing in her mind like the ringing of a bell.

For she was really going to be shopping for mini skirts and lingerie.

“I tried to tell you those ones you insisted on didn’t fit your frame. Take $50 out of my purse tonight and you can get a new pair. All white,” She added, as if Betty didn’t know what to buy.

She ground her teeth together, smile never falling. “Of course, mom.” Dinner sitting like a rock in her belly the rest of the night.

***

She had taken two fifties out of her mom’s purse, intent on spending it on anything but cheer shoes. The ones she had actually fit just fine, but she may need to borrow a pair from Veronica for appearances sake.

Betty hadn’t really spoken to Veronica about her issues. The girl had been so absorbed with comforting Archie, that she didn’t have time. Of course that comforting included weird sex in his bedroom that happened to be right across from hers. She had to close her curtains practically every night, seeing as how they couldn’t be bothered to.

She was just a little bitter.

Jealous. Of the fact that they were having all this sex. It came so easy to those two. Betty was confused why it didn’t for her and Jughead.

So when Veronica had picked her up, new driver seated in the front of the car, she mumbled out their destination. She was looking to go Ivy’s, a boutique downtown that had cute vintage clothes, nic nacs, shoes, and designer purses. It was also right next door to Red Velvet, the lingerie shop. She imagined Cheryl shopped there, or at least, might if she didn’t have so much money to waste on things that were pricier.

She found a ton of cute things at Ivy’s. A pale pink, scalloped trim sweater and a dark blue silky tunic top, a pair of white high-waisted shorts with ruffles up the sides. And several much shorter skirts that barely covered her ass, Veronica’s arched eyebrows exclaiming “that’s the point!”. Her favorite one, a soft lavender, with a couple layers of tulle silk chiffon underneath giving the short skirt some volume, reminiscent of a (toned down) ballerina tutu. Veronica sighed happily, hands clasped together when Betty did a twirl in it.

Veronica had of course, offered to pay. And for once, Betty let her. She could save this money of her mom’s for something else.

They were headed out the store with Veronica chatting on about were they were going to eat when Betty caught her wrist. She tugged Veronica to a stop on the sidewalk, biting her lip. “V, I need you to help me with something else,” she turned, pulling the dark haired girl behind her towards the next store. “I need something to wear for Jug,”

Her cheeks were hot, but she felt Veronica’s hand slip from her grasp and instead into her hand, squeezing. “Betty,” they stopped in front of the store and Veronica handed off their bags to her driver and put both hands on the blonde’s shoulders. “Tell me everything.”

Betty pulled her into the store, heading over to one of the mannequin displays and sitting them down on the dark velvet couch beside it.

“I want to have sex with Jughead,” she said simply, hands gripping her knees as she looked down at her feet. With a sigh, she brought her gaze back up to Veronica’s perplexed expression.

“And? Just do it,”

“Well, you know what happened after the Jubilee. But now, it’s like he won’t touch me like that. Hasn’t tried to, anyway,”

“So, you want something that’s going to force his hand?” Veronica gestured around the shop.

Green eyes dated around, taking in all the displays with fancy lace and silk, all dark sinful colors and barely there scrapes of cloth.

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s get to work then,”

Next thing Betty knew, she was in the changing room with a pile of items to try on. She was supposed to come out and model them for Veronica who was lounging on the couch in front of the mirror display, sipping on a mocktail. She didn’t know how comfortable she was doing that. Though Veronica’s words, “If you can’t show me, how are you going to show Jughead?” were making her chew her lip. Technically, he had already seen her without her shirt, albeit, briefly.

Mustering up the courage, she tried a couple of outfits on for Veronica who wasn’t exactly kind in her critiquing. Finally they decided on several bra and underwear sets, a couple of new sheer stockings, and a lingerie set that Veronica had exclaimed “Damn, Betty. If Jughead doesn’t have his hands all over you in that, there is something wrong with him,” it was surprisingly not full of underwire or complicated straps. It was however, all lace and colored a dark plum, two pieces with couple of ties at her hips, the bottoms a very cheeky cut. Truly, she felt sexy in it.

Now, when and where was she going to wear it for him?

She let Veronica buy her lunch at the coffee shop down the block, where they talked over finger sandwiches and homemade chips, then earl grey tea and pumpkin scones. They stopped at Veronica’s to grab a decoy pair of new cheer shoes in order to show Alice.

She was going out with Jughead tonight, although it was just to Pop’s and the movies. She was hoping to get some sort of reaction from him. Her parents were out when she left, but Polly was home, sitting on the couch eating ice cream and pickles. Ugh, pregnancy cravings.

***

Betty stepped up to where Jughead had parked his motorcycle in front of her house, looking down at his phone as he waited for her. She cleared her throat, hand tightening over the strap on her cross body bag. His head shot up from the phone, glancing at her and then back down, then suddenly back up.

“Betty,” the way he said her name made her shiver.

She had pulled on one of her new skirts, a black velvet high-waisted thing with pearl buttons going down the front, holding it closed. It only reached the end of her finger tips and she had forgone any tights or stockings. She had tucked a pale blue laced collared blouse into it.

“Aren’t you going to be uncomfortable?” he questioned, eyebrow rising as his eyes glanced over her again, holding out his helmet for her. She frowned, that’s all he had to say? Pulling on her grey coat, she belted it at the waist for the ride, tying the knot tightly. She accepted the helmet from him and stepped closer.

“Of course not, Jug. I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t help the clip of her tone. She swung her leg around, skirt wanting to protest at the wide movement of her legs. Fitting herself against Jughead, he started the bike back up, kicking off the pavement. Her eyes pressed together, hands clasped tightly in front of him. She was still a little scared of riding, but Jughead made her feel safer. She wished he would get another damn helmet though.

At Pop’s they sat on the same side of the booth at Betty’s insistence. She had pressed herself right up against him, hand on his thigh again. He was a little quiet through dinner, only ate his meal and stole a couple of her fries. When she offered him the rest, he turned them down. It was perplexing. Betty watched him wearily as she sipped her vanilla milkshake. His fingers were tapping against the table with an off beat rhythm, the thigh she didn’t have her hand on was jiggling up and down, shaking the seat.

“What’s wrong Juggie?” she turned a little to look at him, pulling her hand from his thigh to cup the cool glass of her drink. Without her hand on him he had stopped the bouncing, fingers just slightly twitching on the table.

“Uh, nothing, Betty. Just worried about the Serpents lawyer, Penny. Dad is still pissed at me about it,” he fiddled with the beanie on his head, eyes only glancing over at her for a second before staring straight ahead.

She ‘hmmm’d, lips closing around her straw and taking a long sip of her shake. Jughead’s shoulders tightened and he popped a cold fry into his mouth, chewing harshly. She leaned back in the booth, fingernails tapping the glass.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Whatever favor it is that she wants,” she gave him a smile, fingers taking hold of the cherry that was still piled on the whip cream. She wrapped her lips around it, biting it off from the stem. Chewed the sweet cherry with a small smile of satisfaction as she watched Jughead visibly swallow.

“Let’s go to the movie now? We can get some snacks,” she knew Jughead would want some popcorn at least.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go Betts,” he slung an arm up across the back of the booth behind her, their bill already paid, waiting for her to scoot out. Betty’s heart swelled at her nickname, and she couldn’t help leaning in and giving her boy a kiss, the cherry and vanilla still fresh on her breath. Her hands were bracing herself on his thigh and she leaned into him when he slipped his tongue in between the seam of her lips, chasing hers. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, fingers pressing in along her jaw and neck, sliding down to her shoulder.

A woman in a booth over cleared her throat, shooting them a displeased look when they parted to look at her. To her defense, she was with two small children. Betty stifled a laugh, pulling her purse over her head as she slid out the booth. She pulled Jughead behind her, his boots stomping against the linoleum as they raced out.

The Bijou always played a romance movie on Saturday nights, and more often then not it was an older movie, which Betty’s loved. Casablanca was playing tonight, one of her favorites. She had seen it several times, so she wouldn’t be missing anything.

But, as it turned out Jughead had never seen it and was genuinely interested in watching the movie. Betty was happy to have his arm resting around her shoulders, hand holding onto her arm like he had taken to doing. But she wanted to play and Jughead wasn’t having it.

She had crossed her legs, uncrossed her legs. Crossed them back again. Shifted in her seat, skirt riding high on her legs, and she didn’t bother tugging it back down. She wiggled in her seat, elbow jutting into Jughead’s stomach on accident (or maybe on purpose). He tore his gaze away from the movie, other hand paused with a handful of popcorn up go his mouth.

“Something wrong?” his mouth now full of popcorn, eyes trailing down from her head to where she was shifting in her seat.

Suddenly he was choking on the popcorn, leaning forward and hacking. Betty looked down at her legs, her skirt having ridden up practically to her underwear. If she moved just a little bit..

Grinning devilishly inside, she put on an innocent smile. Her hand thumping against Jughead’s broad back, to help him clear his throat. “You ok there? You were inhaling that popcorn, Jug.” He seemed to wheeze, a rattle in his throat. He took a drink of the cherry slushie they were sharing. He coughed a little more, sitting back in his seat, face red. He put the popcorn on the empty seat next to him.

“Yeah, just went down the wrong pipe. Think I’m done for a while,” he brushed a hand against his jeans, his other one going back up around her shoulder like before, pulling her close into his side. “What about you?”

“Oh, well, I’m just uncomfortable in this seat.” She sighed, shaking her head. Betty chewed on her lop, eyes glancing down to his lap and back up. “Can I put my legs in your lap?” she was running a finger down the line of his chest, her hand stopping to rest on his stomach as she tilted her head at him.

Jughead seemed hesitant, glancing at her legs again. Clearing his throat, he nodded at her. “Of course, Betts,” he spread his legs a little wider for her and folded the armrest between them up. Her heart beat a little faster at the way he licked his lower lip. Turning sideways in her seat and brining her legs up to rest her knees over Jughead’s thigh, she fit her legs between his. She wrapped his arm around her legs, placing his fingers under her knee as she curled one of hers around his arm, leaning against his shoulder.

They turned back to the movie and Betty could see the way his eyes kept glancing over at her out of the corner of hers. At this angle, with the way she purposefully kept her knees parted a little, she was sure he could see down to her underwear, even in the dark. She had worn a pair of white lace underwear specifically for this.

She stifled a yawn with her hand, stretching her arms up above her head. They were in the back row, so she didn’t feel bad stretching out. The action stretched her blouse tight against her chest. She lingered, stretching her arms higher before dropping them to her knees, fingers gripping.

“Juggie?”

He turned towards her, his eyes dark, pupils wide. Betty licked her lower lip, watched his eyes follow the movement, his fingers under her knee pressing harder into her. She leant forward, grabbing his face in her hands and dragging him towards her.

Their lips pressed together in a clash, too hard, too excited. Betty backed off a little, sighing as Jughead turned in his seat shifting closer to her. His left arm uncurling from her legs and sliding down her thigh, fingers peeking under the edge of her skirt. His other hand pushed her legs a little wider so he could lean between them. Her heart was racing, the distance readily disappearing between her and her goal line.

They kissed for a while, his lips devouring her. She sighed into his mouth, tasting the salty popcorn and butter. Biting his lip, tugging on it gently produced a low growl from his throat against her. His hand slid higher, fingers underneath the lace edge of her underwear, fingering the skin of her hip. Betty pulled back from his lips, tilting her head back and clutching the front of his shirt, pulling his head to her neck. Jughead obliged her, lips pressing soft kissed across her jaw, up to her ear and then back down her throat. He stopped to suck on her skin every so often, tongue flicking out against her earlobe. His breath was hot in her ear and it send tingles down her spine, warmth spreading in her belly. Her thighs pressed together and he sure as hell noticed, a groan coming from him at the action.

Betty pulled his head back up, kissing him again. Slowly she faded their kisses to a soft, gentle pace. She pulled away with a smile on her face, the credits of the movie had just started rolling.

“Wow, can’t believe the movie is over already.” She sighed as if disappointed. “Let’s go home, Juggie. I want to soak in hot bath, my thighs have been kind of sore from cheer,” She wanted the image of her in his head, wet and naked, after this little progression she had made with him.

Betty had already disentangled herself, standing up and discreetly tugging her skirt back into place. Jughead was still sitting, staring at the seat where Betty was. He looked up at her and she could have sworn he wanted to strangle her. The thought excited her more than she thought It would. She briefly imagined his large hand covering her throat, fingers grasping and squeezing with just enough pressure to make her breathe hard.

Wow. Okay. She didn’t really realize she liked things like that. Jughead brought out a side of her that she would have never known had she ended up with Archie.

Jughead looked pissed. It wasn’t her fault the movie ended, she had just strategically chosen the point in the movie where this situation was likely to happen. She couldn’t help the giggle rising in her throat, and she hid it in her fist behind a cough.

“Ready?” she questioned with a smile, head tilting as she held her hand out to him to take.

A muscle in his jaw twitched and he didn’t respond to her. He pulled himself up, lacing their fingers together and grabbed the leftover popcorn. He tugged her after him, almost roughly. A thrill went through her and she grinned at the back of his head. She loved this rough, demanding side of Jughead. It was the same side of him she had seen when he slammed her up against those kitchen cabinets, when he slipped on his leather jacket. She fucking loved it.

Betty was playing the game now, and maybe he was catching on, but it seemed like he was starting to crack. And she was going to break him.

[dachi-chan25]

Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 6 Recap Pt. 3

WARNINGS:SPOILERS; not a D@€n€r¥$ fan; Jonsa shipper ( I still believe)

————-

6.- Back on Eastwatch, we have this morons trying to not freeze, too late for Thoros tho, I mean dude was a walking corpse since the Hound had his fire vision, he was completely obtuse for the plot so they got rid of him. I feel nothing. Guess his conversation with Jorah (that I totally skipped cuz boring) was heartwarmming but still I knew he was dead as soon as the bear got him. They burn his body with his own alcohol.

7.- An invitation arrives for Sansa to go to KL, amd she is like LMAO I think no you trick ass bitch, my girl is not an idiot and there is no way in hell she’ll go, if Cersei wants to make her prisioner again she can damn well bring her ass to the North and try, and she sends Brienne in her stead, Brienne doesn’t want to leave her on her own with LF, Sansa has to snap and her and basically throw her on the street to get her to go (god Jon is gonna have a hissy fit when he sees Brienne at KL and knows Sansa is alone at WF with LF) very wise decision knowing LF wanted to get Brienne tagled up on his schemes.

8.- In Dragonstone Tyrion is trying to stop D from going to the rescue cuz he doesn’t want her to die even tho he is fine with the man that volunteered for this stupid ass mission that was his idea dying (consistent characterization where art thou?) but she goes anyway cuz #YOLO

Also this unsubtle shift to white clothes now that she is gonna do an heroic thing, she honestly looks kinda like Elsa from Frozen, where does she get this clothes anyway, did she brought a new wardrobe from Essos? Are the Dothraki sewing and knitting clothes??

Where are the Unsullied and the Greyjoys????

7.- Yeah so they just kinda waiting around for their Uber, but the Hound is taking none of this boring but safe bull, let’s throw rocks at the wights for funnsies. So he does and the wights get angry? Annoyed? Who knows really? And they begin to close in our heroes.

Jon thinks they’re doomed without D’s help but Beric points put that not really (Beric and his sexy ass voice are winning me over)“as long as they kill the Night King everyone else is gonna be detroyed (this sounds waaaaaay to convinient, almost as if d&d want to get rid of the WW as fast as possible so they can focus on the political/human problems) but Jon is not so optimist. So yeah we get some fighting in, and things are beginning to look real bad for the Wight Hunters when boom Khaliisi comes in rising and burning wights (and ice) as she goes! They are saved OMG what a relief! (excuse my sarcastic ass) everyone is getting on the Dragon choo choo, except Jon (guess we’re saving the dragon riding for laters) who keeps on fighting.

Now I guess this is relevant, he thought they were doomed until D arrives, she is burning her way through th wights like you couldn’t believe and Jon is visibly relieved, he is getting the hope that maybe they can win this war, he is clearly trying to fight his way to the NK, I thought he wanted to end it right there, go for the NK and be done with it that is why he refuses to go.

Now his hopes get dashed away when NK throws at spear at Viserion and kills him, now I’m really worried, did I broke something inside me? Why is it that I don’t care? Oh right we never got a scene with Viserion alone, if he had bonded with Jon last episode instead of Drogon (Jon still thought this giant lizards ugly af tho) then Hey maybe I could have cared, but this feels like super dramatic and emotionally manipulative from the writers tbh. I feel the whole purpose of killing him off was to have "Cool Ice Dragon” and for some rushed J/D moment (I have a lot to say about it) D is stunned by grief I guess? Jon gets angry but I don’t think it’s cuz he cared about the dragon or for D, i mean of course he must have felt sympathy for her she stated that she loved them just last episode, but i think his rage comes from the frustration of knowing he can’t end this right now, he can’t prevent more people from dying and now with a dragon in the army of the dead…

So yeah Jon tells them to go away cuz the crazy ass bitch wants to die I guess, and he doesn’t want anymore Dragons joining the wights.

The lake gives away, but Jon comes out of the water freezing to death, the Wights surround him but he is too weak to fight, when BAM! Magical convinient Uncle Ben saves him, Jon is clearly surprised and emotional at seeing the uncle he loved so much and thought to be dead (dammit those Starks are hard to kill) but Benjen is having none of that cuz he has to be a martyr saving your ass Jon! So he gives his stupid ass nephew his horse, Jon gallops away while seeing his uncle dying (OK my emotions are back, I love uncle Ben even if D&D made him this protagonist characters convinient saviour).

8.- Back at Eastwatch, you know the actual castle, D is waiting for Jon looking hopefully at the horizon, while Jorah is trying to save her the heartache (I mean if this had any realism anymore Jon would be totes dead) but here he comes riding and all that jazz.

Before we dive into that scene (you know which) I’d like to stablish some thoughts:

-I believe D’s feelings for Jon are real, but they are not based in real things. First let’s ask ourselves why is she even in love (if we can call it that at this point) with him? She is clearly attracted yes, but Love is different than lust, so yeah he is a great guy I guess? But she hasn’t really seen him at that, everything she knows about him is based on the stuff Tyrion knows about him: his brothers are dead, as well as his father,he was at the Wall, he has a wolf?? I dunno if Tyrion mentioned that cuz the only one who remembers Ghost exists is Sansa, and the mystery about the dagger to the heart. And that’s where I think this fixiation comes from, this man could be her equal he is not afraid of her and stands his ground (on her POV) and maybe he is as magical as she is, Drogon let the man pet him!!!

But what she sees vs what actually is, shows she doesn’t know this man at all, what’s more Jon doesn’t want her to know him.

-She talks to him about her brothers when she is telling him the names of her Dragons, perfect oportunity for Jon to talk about Robb,Rickon and Bran(Jon thought he was dead as well) but doesn’t.

-She is talking about Ned on her big speech on their meeting, yet Jon his biggest admirer didn’t jump to defend his beloved father??

-When she is talking about her Dragons he could have very well mentioned Ghost yet he didn’t

-Davos jumped to defend him, and was telling D all Jon went through but Jon stopped him, she asked directly about the dagger to the heart and he said nothing.

-She was happy for him when he finds out his siblings aren’t dead, but Jon doesn’t show any emotion about it.

-As a matter of fact he never símiles or seems at ease in her presence. Fuck it even jondry has more build up in their two episodes together. Jon smiled at Gendry and talks with him about Ned. (not to mention Sansa, she makes him smile like no other.

It all feels almost like he has no goddamned interest in getting to know her (she is always the one to share this information without him asking) as a person, he doesn’t want her to know him. Why???

Reminds me about this quote:

“When you are attracted to people, it’s because of the details. Their kindness. Their eyes. The fact that they can get you to laugh when you need it the most.”

- Jodi Picoult, Sing You Home

Jon has never laughed or smiled near D, and that's the most telling stuff about this whole romance debacle in my humble opinion.

9.- Boat time! so Jon is just waking up (I knew my son didn't decided for himself to ditch WF and go to KL instead) and D is there (no I was just joking about the Twil1ght and 50s0g last week stop staring at people while they are asleep and shirtless is creepy) Honestly her eyes when she saw the scars on his chest made me uncomfortable (I could practically see her delusions about how magical Jon is and barfed, cuz yeah Jon is pretty magical, but the amazing thing about him is that he wants none of that he doesn't want t be a hero or a god, hells he didn't even wanted to be King!!) Anyway Jon's eyes focus on her and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is that he is sorry about Viserion?For real? Uncle Ben died to save you and you care about this? Of course not! Have some faith in Jon ffs! Goddamn it he got killed by the NW when he rushed from his office cuz Uncle Ben had returned!!! He loved uncle Ben, why would he care about Viserion?? He does not! This is another 'they are gorgeous beasts" he is bullshiting her so hard it's obvious.

She thinks he is her equal and defy her and all that jazz, but in all their interactions (except that time he said I am King to get away from DS) he caters to her, he is never sincere with her, for he has learned she doesn't listen.

She says she'll fight the WW and about how the dragon are the only children she'll ever have, doesn't mention a thing about kneeling everything seems almost too perfect, so why would Jon bullshit her?? Maybe I am just a salty shipper, but point is I don't think Jon trusts D a lot, oh yes he talked about trust when he wanted to get away from DS, and he did show trust going to meet her without weapons or a proper guard, but I stand by what I said last week she betrayed that trust the moment she called him a rebell and took his boat making him prisioner in all but name, not to mentionhe saw in frist row how she blamed Tyrion(her hand) for things going wrong and he doesn't have the luxury of having her turn on him, she is alright now but if another Dragon or one of her friends died what then? She could just go back to Essos, he can't afford that.

So he calls her Dany, and she laughs (bitch me too the fuck) but he doesn't smile at all, and he takes her hand, this gave me serious flashbacks of the Jonsa scene Back on S6 when Sansa takes his hand, or the scene from 7x01 when she takes his arm and he looks down, just his time positions are reverted, Jon is the one touching D (this gesture he has come to learn is very effective to have someone listen to you) and D looks down on their joined hands but Jon doesn't, he looks almost pained and guilty (he is an awful liar) Jon goes as far as to call her my Queen and saying he would bend. Seriously y'all think he was being sincere, why would he go from calling her stranger just last episode to being all Dany my Queen with no development in between the very next? No this doesn't make sense at all.

Why do you all think all this random ass conversations about Honor=Dead and "bending the knee is OK if you do it for your people's life" if not to foreshadow this? Jon himself said he went on the mission for the North, why would he seriously ditch his family and people for someone he just met? You can scream he is attracted to her all you want, I personaly don't see it, but it's a disservice to Jon to think he could mean any of this, he is not above using sex and romantic feelings (Ygritte) to do his duty, even if he developed feelings in the last situation he choose his duty and he will again because he loves Winterfell and he loves the Stark shipping aside. It would be ridiculous to have Lord Glover talking about foreing whores, Sansa warning about to be smarter than Robb and Ned, Tormund going on and on about Mance's pride, Jorah and Jon's conversations about Jeor and Ned and Beric talk about how thrones and Queens don't matter if Jon is suddenly gonna forsake it all in the name of a love we have no proof but Tyrion's and D&D's words (that we shouldn't trust cuz it's not likely they would give away such a twist) that it exists at all.

D eats it all up (I kinda feel bad for her, almost, only if she weren't such an entitled brat) and she tells him to rest. Jon clases his eyes and as soon as she is out he stares at the ceiling and sighs, again not subtle at all.

Anyway that is just what I think.

10.- The wights are getting Viserion out of the lake with some big ass chains, where do they even get this stuff? Hardhome? The had this big ass chains? A convinient again. Anyway so Viserion's out and his eyes open, and they are blue. Real talk the NK has had more bonding with him in this 2 min than D in all the seasons.

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That's all I hope the finale is a bit better cuz this episode was hella boring.