#then i got distracted and posted seven over drawings

[putuponpercy]

Ay'up we are back lads 🚂

[its-all-papaya]

Cat for the prompt game

this one was almost an hour and a half but in my defense my brain is a little fried. forgive.

Lando's looped the video probably about a hundred times already, but it still tickles the back of his brain the same way when he watches Oscar's face light up for the one-hundred-and-first time.

"I'm meeting some fans today, apparently."

Lando's seen it so many times he could mouth the words along with Oscar if he wanted. His expression is one Lando'd already had memorized even before, the bemused little smirk he pulls out whenever McLaren throws him in front of a camera alone. Put-upon, like he wants the whole audience to know he's just humoring them.

"Here they are," says the voice off camera that Lando could place if he thought about it long enough.

He hasn't thought about it at all, though, because it comes just before Oscar's face goes surprised, then melts into something soft and happy. Bit distracting, that part. Because Lando knows that expression, too, and it's only the fact that he's got it in high-def now that keeps him from being jealous that the video has gone and shared it with the whole world.

There are three of them, all orange.

"Hello there," Oscar says. It's in his normal voice, like he's talking genuinely to fans and not to the three itty bitty kittens tumbling around his legs.

The bravest of the bunch noses suspiciously at the top of his sock where it meets his shin as soon as it gets close enough. It shrinks back when Oscar smooths two fingers down the back of its neck.

"I reckon they were born to be fans," Oscar's eyes shoot quickly up to the camera and then back down as the second kitten props both tiny paws on his knee, "they're already in the right color."

It goes on like that. Oscar's smile never fully leaves his face and it never makes Lando's chest feel any less warm, no matter how many times he watches it repeat on his phone screen. The marketing team will probably be in fits over the numbers the post is doing, and all the while it'll be just Lando, curled up in his sweats in bed listening to Oscar say "I've seen that people compare me to one" over and over and over again.

Lando's seen, too. That people compare Oscar to a cat. He thinks that's probably where the whole thing came from, actually, the social team cashing out with a partner and tapping in on the fans' fancies at the same time.

He's not quite sure what they mean, but privately, Lando agrees. Carlos and Daniel had been all dog, bouncing into his life and wagging their proverbial tails at him until he keyed himself up to match. All play-fighting and sloppy, open affection; crowding his personal space and shedding everywhere until he had no choice but to love them back just as loudly, just as whole-heartedly.

Oscar had been different from the get-go. He was wary like a cat, circling quietly closer, sneaking in at the edges when he thought Lando might not notice. Shrinking away when he got too much affection too quickly. Slinking back to his own side of the garage when he'd had whatever he decided was enough, always resetting on his own terms.

"Bit scared, I reckon," Oscar says at the fifty-seven second mark. His gaze is off-screen, watching as the kittens are herded carefully back towards him. "New place, and all."

He chats on about the shelter they're promoting, hands busy corralling the kittens when they try to wander again. It takes until nearly a minute and a half in for him to successfully get a hand under one of them. His cheeks go a bit pink as he draws it up towards his chin, and Lando's always go a bit pink as he watches Oscar smile, listens to him say, "See? It's alright."

The next part is Lando's favorite. Sometimes he's been stopping to loop just the same fifteen seconds over, watching again and again as Oscar tucks the kitten against his chest, one hand cradling its back while the other nudges up under its furry white chin. Lando gets a bit hung up on the curve of Oscar's finger there, and he understands it, the way the kitten's eyes close into two pleased little arches on its face.

"Now you're happy, huh?" Oscar asks. His grin suddenly brightens into a soft laugh, and he looks directly at the camera to say, "I don't know if you can hear the purring."

They can hear it. Lando'd had to pull out his headphones a few loops in to catch it the first time, but he can pick it out through just the phone speaker now that he knows what to listen for.

Oscar finishes the video with the sponsored read at two-minutes-and-fifty-five seconds. The kitten is nearly asleep in his palm. Oscar's just sort of knuckling along its stomach gently as they close out, but he slips the pad of one finger under the kitten's paw just before the fade-out, and the cat's little toes flex out, like he's petting Oscar right back.

"What are you watching?"

Lando's eyes snap up from his phone screen, where the McLaren logo is frozen under the repeat icon. Next to him, Oscar rolls closer with a yawn so wide Lando can hear his jaw click. His voice is groggy, still half-asleep.

"Nothing," Lando whispers back.

Oscar slides an arm around his waist and Lando gets distracted enough by the feel of it that he doesn't notice Oscar's fingers closing around the phone, tilting it up so he can see what's woken him just after he'd drifted off.

He breathes out an exhale sharp enough to be a laugh and drops both the phone - onto the bed - and his head - onto Lando's chest.

"Interested in adopting one?" he asks, too cheeky for how awake he can possibly be. His fingers curl around Lando's bare side and Lando can feel his lips move vaguely against his collarbone.

"Maybe," Lando says back.

Oscar gives another of the breathy laughs, "You don't even like cats."

Lando locks his phone and finally sets it on the nightstand to charge. The stretch jostles Oscar enough that he huffs, but Lando soothes him easily with a palm up his spine. When he reaches the top, he threads fingers through the hair at Oscar's nape and presses a kiss to his forehead at the contented hum it draws out of him. A bit like a purr.

Lando smiles.

"That's not true."

[zarla-s]

Do you get anxious whenever you start drawing comic pages? Is that connected to ending of Handplates? It's like you're trying to find any random activity to avoid drawing comics. And your usual sketches get less and less dialogue. I'm asking because I'm worried and I don't know what's happening. D:

Hmm... I haven't really thought of things in these terms? I was like "eh that can't be right" but then I did a quick look back and it does look like I've been doing solo shots or single/two panel comics for a while, haha. I've just got a lot of small ideas or images I wanted to get out recently. And I've been writing a lot of fic! Which I haven't done in a while, which is nice. Writing a fic (particularly lengthy ones, like the Hell jailbreak or the hanahaki one) is a lot more time consuming than people might think. I started the hanahaki one in early December and only just posted it a few days ago...

I was doing Handplates for such a long time, like seven+ years and all, that I'm assuming the vast majority of you out there never really knew me when I wasn't doing it. The thing is that Handplates is a massive outlier - I never did any project of that scale before, or one that updated that consistently or took that much constant effort. Never! Most of the time before when I'd start a big project I'd get distracted and never finish it, or there'd be huge hiatuses between updates (Vargas). It was super weird to have such a big project I so consistently updated and worked on. It's not common for me! I'm amazed looking back on it all that I was so committed to it when so many other ones fell flat.

Handplates took up a LOT of my time, so with it over I've been doing some other things I wouldn't have had much time for before. Playing some games, taking screencaps, writing fic, web design, little small experiments like all my pixel stuff. Just trying out different things! I don't think I'd say I was anxious about doing a comic page... it's more so that I'm just tired, I think. I was doing these huge elaborate pages that'd take days to finish for so long - now that I don't have to do it anymore, my brain just wants to relax, haha.

The reason for the slow updates on Defrag is really that I keep getting stuck lol. It's not really focused like Handplates and I still don't really know how it'll end. I keep getting stuck on what should happen next, so I keep putting it off. It's just me being a lazy writer rather than having anxiety about doing a page. |D

At least, I think that's what it is...

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.

I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.

Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.

Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:

I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.

Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.

KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.

For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.

SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.

We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.

RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.

We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.

This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.

A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.

I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.

Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.

People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.

The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.

A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.

I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.

David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.

Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.

Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.

I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.

@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.

The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.

I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.

Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.

He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.

🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵

The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.

🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵

Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.

🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵

There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.

I am compared to a cat.

TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.

OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.

[agaypanic]

Grumpy Malcolm With a Sunshine Reader Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: holy shit i finally posted a fic. i posted this separately bc the ask was a bit lengthy and i didn’t want the whole post to feel bulky or anything

***

It was so weird for everyone when you first got together

You’re always so positive and energetic

Meanwhile, Malcolm hates everything and thinks the world sucks

Before you get together, it’s kinda like him and Cynthia where he likes you and stuff, but is slightly put off by your energy

“Hey, Malcolm!” The boy jolted, not expecting such an energetic greeting at seven in the morning. You plopped down into the seat next to him and took out a notebook.

“Hey, Y/n,” Malcolm responded, much more toned down compared to you.

You tossed your bundle of glitter gel pens onto the desk, letting them scatter around as you looked at your friend. “So, what did you do this weekend?”

Malcolm sighed. Francis and Piama had come to visit, which usually excited him. But those two days were filled with passive aggressiveness and backhanded comments between the couple and his mom. “Watched TV.” Malcolm usually liked complaining about his crazy family, but he figured he’d spare you from it because he didn’t want to take you out of your giddy mood. “What about you? What did you do?”

You were lucky that class wouldn’t start for a few more minutes, because you immediately went into an excited ramble about what you did over the weekend. To Malcolm, your energy made things as mundane as doing the dishes sound interesting.

Malcolm puts off you meeting his family as long as possible

Which isn’t long, considering his mom would find out pretty quick that you two are dating

He’s so worried that his family is gonna embarrass him and scare you off

But by the end of the night, he doesn’t know if he should be happy or scared that you actually like his family

You and Malcolm hadn’t even reached the front door yet, and you could already hear yelling and glass breaking. Malcolm cringed at the noises, putting a hesitant hand on the doorknob before looking at you. “Are you sure you wanna meet my family? I don’t know if you could tell, but we aren’t exactly… normal.”

“Malcolm, I don’t care if your family’s crazy.” You said comfortingly, giving him a peck on the lips. “I wanna meet them. Besides, I bet it’ll be fun!”

Your boyfriend didn’t really share your thoughts, but they gave him the push he needed to open the door and welcome you into the house. 

As soon as you stepped out of the front family room and into the kitchen, you and Malcolm were met with chaos. Lois was trying to cook, but kept getting distracted and yelling at Reese and Dewey, who kept shouting and fighting each other. Malcolm’s youngest brother, Jamie, wandered around the house, dropping toys without looking back at them. They would either make people yelp from accidentally stepping on them or be thrown at the two fighting brothers. The whole place seemed to be a complete mess. The only person who seemed unaffected by the environment was Hal, who was sitting at the dinner table drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

You nudged Malcolm, your bright smile contrasting his horrified look. “See? This looks fun!”

Sometimes, your energy can be a little much for Malcolm

Not that he would ever tell you that

It’s just that he’s so used to people around him drawing attention for one reason or another

And sometimes, he just wants to lay low

But if anyone ever tells you to calm down or to “stop being so weird,” he’s gonna fight them

Sitting at lunch with your friends, you were talking your boyfriend’s ear off. Everyone except Malcolm seemed to tune out you talking about some artist’s new album you had been listening to. Although Malcolm was a bit tired from his classes, he nodded along and added comments whenever he felt necessary.

But for the most part, he just listened to you talk. “And now she’s going on tour, and she’s gonna be playing at a place that’s only like an hour away from us. We totally have to go, Mal!”

“Maybe,” Malcolm responded, thinking about how many extra shifts he’d probably have to pick up at the Lucky Aide to afford the tickets. “But remember, Y/n, it’s not guaranteed we’ll be able to get tickets.”

“I have hope.” You shrugged. “But before we go, you gotta listen to the album first. I think you’d like it, Mal. Oh my gosh, there’s this one song that I think could totally be our song, you know what I mean? It’s called-”

“Oh my God.” Reese appeared behind you and Malcolm, staring at you with some displeasure. “Y/n, do you ever. Shut. Up?”

All you did was blink at Reese, wondering how or if you should respond.

But Malcolm came to your defense immediately. “How about you shut up, Reese?”

“Oh, come on, Malcolm,” Reese said, rolling his eyes. “You have to admit that it gets annoying with her talking all the time.”

Instead of replying, Malcolm jumped out of his seat and pounced on his brother, taking him to the floor. Part of you wanted to try to break up the fight. But despite all the violence, you thought it was sweet of Malcolm to defend you with such urgency.

And as much as Malcolm wanted to distance himself from it, he would probably always attract attention and bring chaos. But as long as you liked it, he supposed he didn’t mind it as much.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

[trivialbob]

Yesterday I had my annual physical. In preparation for the blood draw I'm supposed to fast for 12 hours. Stupidly, I scheduled my exam for the afternoon. That meant I could eat until 3:30 AM the night (early morning) before. I dined at 6:30 PM and didn't set an alarm for a post-midnight snack.

What was I doing in the hour before going to my appointment? Looking at fast food coupons that came in the mail. Not a bright move after 18 hours food free.

I did not get hangry, but I realized I swore a few times throughout the day. At work (for real), at my wife (kidding) and at the dogs (because Ella is the best fucking Aussie ever).

By the time I got to my appointment I was really hungry. Sadly, there is no extra credit awarded for adding seven hours to my fasting.

The nurse used an automatic sphygmomanometer to measure my blood pressure and didn't need a stethoscope. That was good because the rumbling of my stomach would have interfered with her hearing. (My BP numbers were excellent!)

In the week leading up to the testing and exam I'm extra careful about what I eat and drink.

Oh Bob! Why not do that for the preceding 51 weeks?

Have you never had pizza and beer?

Actually I do watch what I eat most of the time. I take meds for blood pressure and cholesterol and fully understand they don't give me carte blanche to over indulge. Despite what you may gather from my brewery stories, I'm generally careful about what and how much I drink.

When my blood was drawn for testing I (as always) flinched, starting from when the technician cleaned the site for the needle (AKA the crime scene). She smiled and correctly noted that this is not my favorite thing to do.

Then she tried to take my mind off it by asking for my dogs' names. Haha lady, I've heard that one before. I know all the tricks to distract young children and me. However, I barely felt the little jab. My anxiety is always wasted.

After my appointment I picked up a large pizza and met Sheila at the brewery. The evening after my annual physical is always Fat Tuesday.

[qwertycake]

more qpr fluffy squishy platonic writing prompts! wahoo!! part two!!! :)

Same disclaimer applies as my first post - these are aro- and ace-spec centric, may only work for shortform fiction, and feel free to tweak them to be less specific/more specific to specific characters.

Specific is a weird word lol

Anyways…

“We both get caught out in the rain and wait out the weather under the same shelter, and either we’re meeting for the first time or we have a nice excuse to hang out together” AU

“You annotate a book for me and I annotate it right back for you, and we keep passing the book back and forth until its a mess of affectionate scribbles that we keep on the coffee table” AU

"It's hot outside and you love the heat but I hate it and you're being stupidly nice and sweet to me while I'm a grouchy mess" AU

"I can teach you how to play this instrument if you stop DISTRACTING ME by looking so ENDEARING AND INFATUATED" AU

"Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes" AU

"We're both too tired to take care of ourselves because of sickness/work/school/whatever but we immediately find the energy to take care of one another via making tea and grabbing blankets" AU

"We trade clothes for Halloween and do terrible impersonations of one another" AU

"We have a bunch of unfinished craft projects between the two of us and decide to just... finish them all in one day... 24 itty-bitty hours... oh boy..." AU

"We recreate a terrible low-budget movie together" AU

"On Valentine's Day, we decide to make a bunch of garlic bread and cake, and buy each other flowers in the colours of our respective aro-/ace-spec flags... and then the day after, we buy all the chocolate that's finally gone on sale" AU

“I teach you how to do make-up because for one reason or another you’re unfamiliar with it” AU

“Fake dating and having dramatic break ups over silly things in public for shits and giggles” AU

“So, the world might have just ended… so guess who has two thumbs and a bunker that desperately could use a roommate?” AU

“We’re made to play seven minutes in heaven at a party and after a few awkward minutes of silence we both decide to just order a pizza or something while we wait out the seven minutes” AU

“Hey, you can dance, and I can’t, teach me— no, I don’t care that I’ve got two left feet, teach me!” AU

“We’re both artists, maybe of different skill levels, and we decide to draw/paint/make art of each other” AU

“I’m a night owl and you’re more of a day person, so whenever we stop texting because you have to go to bed, I’m stuck laying awake thinking about you Please Enjoy Waking Up To A Bunch Of Messages” AU

“I’m a day person and you’re more of a night owl but I struggle to fall asleep because I’m stuck thinking about how lucky I am to be your friend Hey I Think I Could Stay Up For An Extra Ten Minutes” AU

“We’re both nervous about going to the gym alone so we try going together… but neither of us have the guts to get out of the car so we just go for a walk or something instead” AU

“You’re super into sports and exercise and I’m just getting into it but you hype me up so I’m less nervous about getting started” AU

“I bake a whole bunch, you cook big meals… at the same time of day - our kitchen is chaos” AU

“It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re hanging out at a party and everyone’s speculating that we’re gonna have our New Year’s Kiss together but the New Year comes and we just do a weird handshake” AU

“Non-Fatal Hanahaki Disease AU where we’re some of the few people who don’t experience it because we’re content with whatever non-romantic thing we have together… but we both have hay fever and are very annoyed by the constant barrage of flower petals around us and have to tell our friends to Please Stop Crushing On The Random Barista At Starbucks It’s The Third Time This Week You Are KILLING US” AU

“We’re both alien test subjects who’ve never met before and have to try and plan our escape - bonus points if the aliens are specifically testing for something like amatonormative like All Humans Fall In Love and we’re the black swans of the research since they apparently abducted Only Romantic Allosexuals Aside From Us Somehow” AU

“It’s midnight and you show up on my doorstep unannounced after a long while of us drifting apart, what on earth happened?” AU

“We’re both capable of granting wishes - you’re the monkey’s paw and I’m the guy who’s stuck remedying all the messed up things you have happen to people What Is Wrong With You” AU

And finally…

“I’m laying on the couch at a party drunk/high/exhausted/whatever and you’re looking after me, having only met me that night - I proceed to ramble about how embarrassed I’ll be when I’m older and think back to how I made a fool of myself in front of someone I wanted to be friends with really badly… but luckily for me, you’re flattered that I think you’re super cool” AU

[memberment]

Genesis

Goooooooooodmorning.

Idk why I'm making a post yet I really don't feel like writing. ANYWAYS. Updates may come today. They also may not. Idk yet.

6:51 Hello from beyond. A new playlist is being born as I write through chapter 30. Also, I think I finished my chapter 7 art. It's Craig carrying Tweek home after they first met. They were so cute 😭 Idk what the message is gonna be in that one yet though. I know what the response is, but not the og message. And I am realizing as I type that that I was not supposed to reveal that but fuck it we ball there's like six people on here it's okay.

ANYWAYS. IF I CAN FINISH 30 AND ACTUALLY WRITE 27 (due to a restructure, I skipped over it entirely and have to go back and rewrite it.) AND MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, CIRCLE BACK AND FINISH 22, I will be soooooooo happy. I got like 12 hours til sleep time and I prob will not be working on chapter 8 art. Because I do NOT wanna draw Kenny and Clyde just yet. (I'm afraid. I wanna put them in their magical girl uniforms and ACTUALLY SHOW THEIR UNIFORMS bc they do change eventually and I feel like the contrast goes INSANE.)

9:19: Hello friends totally didn't get distracted<3 ANYWAYS. Back to this hell chapter of everyone having a bad time.

1:38: I got so distracted Desolation was late and I didn't write anything. I have literally written under 1k today which is fucking insane to me. I write more when I'm "on breaks"

But I have come here to yap about something. While I'm "on break" I think I'm going to rework The End Is Near AND New Beginnings. Meaning they might get deleted for a bit. Because I kinda wanna redo them both because let's be so real here. My writing was not shit, but I feel like they are both gems that need a bit of love. I don't know if I'm gonna commit to the bit but I really fucking might LMFAOO.

But I do really want to redo New Beginnings because that was the whole reason I started writing fanfic and people are still looking at it and I feel like it pales in comparison to what I write now.

And reworking those two will be much more lax while I suffer through 15 weeks of physics hell. SOOO.

Whatever. Gonna try and get through chapter 30. and maybe 27 BECAUSE I STILL HAVE TO WRITE IT WHAT THE FUCK‼️‼️

I lied I'm yapping for all of five more seconds because I need to complain and refuse to get a diary.

I am actually really sad that I'm not gonna have every day posts anymore. Like I am trying so hard to cope with it but y'all.

Desolation has 4 chapters left. Tweek's Guide has 7 chapters left. Eclipse has 4 (technically five but epilogue's short so it's gonna get posted same day) chapters left. Craig's Guide has like 10 chapters left. Dandelion has 8 (technically 9) chapters left. and Leap year has 8 chapters left. (Genesis doesn't count because that just started. ) LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COPE. I HAVE FOUR FICS AND THERE ARE SEVEN DAYS OF THE WEEK. AND I CAN'T POST MY ONE REALLY FUNNY TRASHFIRE FIC BC PART OF IT IS SO GOOD I KINDA WANNA SPLIT THE CONCEPTS UP AND I REFUSE TO FINISH IT TIL I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. Like y'all do not understand daily posts are like embedded in my brain. I love it. HOW DO I FIX THIS WITHOUT ACTIVELY WRITING. I hate it here. Oh also when Eclipse or Desolation get finished Dandelion is moving to Monday/Wednesdays because Freedom Pal Fridays are being a thing. Because I have. So. Many. Goddamn. Freedom. Pals. Fics. Sitting. There. ScREAMING. For. Me. To. Write. So An Answers getting thrown on Fridays. But how do I space this out? (I am so sorry for this unnecessary lengthiness I am officially just gaming this out as I type because my brother is sleeping and I can't call him to yap.) Like- I wanted to do Sunday for Genesis but I feel like Sundays kinda suck as post days, lowk. So what then? Monday Wednesday Friday Saturday???? I can't just do Tuesday and not Thursday. AH. I hate it here. I need more time and we are constantly running out of time.

Life is fleeting, and I simply hate it.

2:39: JUST HIT 90K. This has been cut down to 38 chapters. I have 1k ish left of 30. 27 is still undone. 22 needs its angel fight. So approximately 29k-36k ish left. I'm losing my mind. I can't believe I am speedballing through this like that. WHICH MEANS IF GOD SHINES DOWN UPON ME I CAN FINISH BOUND IN PEACE.

Then what?

Do I start my break early?

I don't wanna do that? What the fuck would I even work on then though??????

LMFAO about to pray for clarity.

3:44: Creative freedom is fucking crazy because Wendy's having a heart to heart with Brimmy right now.

4:14: I keep cutting chapters and part of me is starting to worry that this is too short but in the same breath like I'm combining them because drawing them out feels kinda lazy and rude. But we are now down to 36/37 chapters. I can't be too mad about it. But part two might be like, way longer. Also we're at 92.3k. SO I DID SOMETHING TODAY.

I lowk wanna work on bound for a bit but that means committing myself to an entire chapter because I can't just write part of a chapter and go back to it for that one and kinda I wanna reread the whole thing before I work on it more. UGH.

I might. I honestly fucking love Bound, like that was my baby when I was concepting it. I literally wrote so much of it while I was on vacation. Like stats on that one suck bc it's so niche but I do not even care. One of my favorite fics that I've written, easy. I'm not even a K2 girlie. I just wanted to write one because it was gonna annoy me if I didn't throw my hat in the ring at least once. I might write background K2 though for something unimportant bc I kinda like how I write them ngl. OKAY GOODBYE FOR NOW I'VE CONVINCED MYSELF TO MAYBE WRITE ANOTHER BOUND CHAPTER.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.3 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

“No,” Brian intoned, “Such a bad idea.”

Awww, but isn't that a villain rite of passage?

(Yes, yes, I've read like 17 versions of the fic scenes where they point out it's a bad idea, all probably derived from this chapter)

“Come on,” Lisa wheedled, “It’s a rite of passage for dastardly criminals like us.”

Lisa. You're the Undersiders. Right now, you guys are anything but 'cool' and dastardly is reserved for 'cool' villains.

“Robbing a bank is moronic.  We’ve been over this,”  Brian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know what the average haul is for hitting a bank?” Lisa paused, “Twenty thou?” “Exactly.  It’s not millions like you see people getting away with in the movies.  Banks don’t keep a lot of loose cash on hand, so we’d be pulling in less than we would for most other jobs

Okay, yes, Banks don't keep a lot of loose cash, but really? Only twenty thousand? That's a lot of armored trucks going in and out every day then or something.

“We won because we picked our battles.  We wouldn’t have that option if we were cooped up in the bank and waiting for them to come to us, letting them decide how and where the fight happened.”

Brian, you're talking to Rachel, who I believe is the physical embodiment of this tumblr post:

I’d almost forgotten I was a part of the discussion.  The last thing I wanted was to rob a bank.  Hostages could get hurt.  The fact that it would potentially put me on the front page of the paper wasn’t a high point, either, if I ever wanted to drop the supervillain ruse and become a hero in good standing.  I ventured, “I think Brian makes a good case.  It seems reckless.”

Come on Taylor! You know you wanna just cut loose! :P :rofl: (Jk)

“Figure that’s happening in the middle of the school day, and they won’t all be able to slip away to stop a robbery without drawing attention.  People know the Wards are attending Arcadia, they just don’t know who they are.  So everyone’s constantly watching for that.  Since they can’t have all six or seven of the same kids disappear from class every time the Wards go off to foil a crime without giving away the show, chances are good that we’d go up against a couple of their strongest members, or one of the strongest with a group of the ones with less amazing powers.  We can beat them.”

And if a certain overstressed healer hadn't been there to make a withdrawal, this probably would have been fine.

That, and he really wants us to do a job at that particular time.”

I believe that screams 'BAIT!' and 'YOU ARE A DISTRACTION!'

“They have ride-alongs or aerial cover from various members of the Wards and the Protectorate, so we’d be caught in a fight with another cape from minute one.  Same problems that Brian’s talking about, as far as getting caught up in a fight, difficulty accessing the money before shit goes down, yadda yadda.  Anyways, the Brockton Bay Central has cars coming in twice a week, and leaving four times a week.  We hit on a Thursday just after noon, and it should be the best day and time for the sheer size of the take.  Only way we’re getting away with less than thirty thousand is if we fuck up.  With what the boss is offering, that’s ninety thou.”

Not a bad chunk of change for a lunchbreak sized job.

Brian sighed, long and loud, “Well, you got me, I guess.  It sounds good.”

If Brian isn't physically facepalming when he says this, he has to be mentally. Just... such 'fiiiiiiiiiine! (exasperated)' energy.

Arguing against the bank robbery at this point would hurt my undercover operation more than it helped anyone.  With that in mind, I began offering suggestions that – I hoped – would minimize the possibility of disaster.  The way I saw it, if I helped things go smoothly, it would help my scheme to get info on the Undersiders and their boss.  It would minimize the chance that someone would panic or be reckless and get a civilian hurt.  I think I would feel worse if that happened than I would about going to jail.

Fair, on the civilian front. I have no idea how many civilians Taylor hurts, but it's probably low. Also, the rationalizations continue apace!

The discussion went on for a while.  At one point, Lisa got her laptop, and we debated entrance and exit strategies while she sketched out a map of the bank layout.  It was uncanny, seeing her power at work.  She copied a satellite image of the bank from a web search into a paint program, then drew over it with thick bold lines to show how the rooms were laid out.  With another search and a single picture of the bank manager standing in front of his desk, she was able to mark out where the manager’s desk was.  That wouldn’t have been too amazing, but without pausing, she then went on to mark where the tellers were, as well as the vaults, the vault doors and the enclosed room that held the safe deposit boxes.  She noted where the fuse box and air conditioning vents were, but we decided we wouldn’t mess with either of those.

It's amazing what you can find on the internet... and with a power that lets you do what Sherlock Holmes pretends to.

Of the four of us, I got the impression he had the least to contribute, at least strategically, and that he knew it.  I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t have a very tactical mindset or if he just didn’t care that much about the planning stage of things.

Despite the fact that he is (according to fanfic, not sure if this is canon) a sociopath, and at the very least, fucked up thanks to being one of Heartbreaker's Kids, Alec may be the most normal of the Undersiders.

And boy is that weird to say.

“Sure,” he said, “So let’s go down the list.  Team leader: Aegis.  You’d think he has the standard Alexandria package, flight, super strength, invincibility, but that isn’t exactly right.  He does fly, but the other two powers work differently than you’d expect.  See, he isn’t invincible… he just doesn’t have any weak points.  His entire biology is filled with so many redundancies and reinforcements that you just can’t put him down.  Throw sand in his eyes and he can still see by sensing the light on his skin.  Cut his throat and it doesn’t bleed any more than the back of his hand would.  The guy’s had an arm cut off and it was attached and working fine the next day.  Stab him through the heart and another organ takes over the necessary functions.”

*Me, shaking the powers* WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE NORMAL?!?!?!

“I don’t need to hold back?” Bitch asked, her eyebrow quirked. “For once, no.  Go nuts.  Just, you know, don’t kill him. 

Very important that you added that extra detail there, Brian :P

“The upside is that whoever he touches is also untouchable.  Can’t be hurt, can’t be moved.  Period.  He uses that defensively, and he can do stuff like throw paper or cloth in the air and freeze it in time, making an unbreakable shield.  You don’t want to run into something that’s frozen.  A car that drove into the side of a piece of paper that Clockblocker had touched would be cut in two before it budged the paper.”

Everyone, get ready for our favorite game here at @got-into-worm-by-mistake!

*Wheel of Fortune Audience Voice*

POWERS!

ARE!

BULLSHIT!

(I say this a lot. I'll say it more. Because I absolutely love how nothing about any power in Worm can be 'normal' powers. Genuinely. Favorite part of the story that isn't my poor little meow meow babygirl Amy)

“Wherever our powers come from, they also came with some limitations.  For most of us, there’s a restriction about using our powers on living things.  The reach of powers generally stops at the outside of a person or animal’s body.  There’s exceptions for the people with powers that only work on living things, like you, Alec and Rachel.  But the long and short of it is that the Manton effect is why most telekinetics can’t just reach into your chest and crush your heart.  Most people who can create forcefields can’t create one through the middle of your body and cut you in two.”

I feel like maybe Taylor would have researched this more/better?

“I said most,” Lisa said, “Why these restrictions exist is a question nearly as big as where we got our powers in the first place.  The capes that can get around the Manton effect are among the strongest of us.”

And maybe, bitch, that's why you don't help tilt the girl who is teetering on the edge of becoming an S-Class threat over said edge?

(I am entitled to be irrational about some things.)

“That just leaves Shadow Stalker.  Bloodthirsty bitch,” Brian scowled.

AYYYY! Sophia! You horrid little bitch!

(Do we find out before Taylor does that Sophia is Shadow Stalker?)

“She was a solo hero,” Tattletale said, “Vigilante of the night, until she went too far and nearly killed someone, nailing him to a wall with one of her crossbows.  The local heroes were called in, she got arrested, and made some sort of deal.  Now she’s a probationary member of the Wards, with the condition that she uses tranquilizer bolts and nonlethal ammo for her crossbow.”

Furthers the whole "heroes kinda suck, be a villain" messaging from Interlude 2, really.

“I am,” I admitted, “as well as third thoughts, fourth thoughts, and so on.  But I’m not going to let that stop me.  I’m coming with.”

Valid af though.

“So unless there’s anything else, I think we just planned a bank robbery before noon,” Lisa said with a grin.  I looked at the digital clock displayed under the TV.  Sure enough, it was half past eleven.

Either Lisa is having too much fun with this, or the other Undersiders are having too little fun with it.

[shiny-miltank]

A leche hobbies update:

Update on knitting adventures: almost done with a scarf I started 🤔 dropped stitches everywhere but it really helps with my adhd to have something in my hands to play with while feeling like I’m working towards something! Don’t think I’ll show it off though LMAO, it’s ugly as a scarf but I like it as a “baby’s first scarf” to look back on when I get better. And it’s warm :)!

Other thing: picked up a sewing machine from the good will and still in really great shape and working! Its old and has character and I love it HAH. I’m learning from my abuelita on her own machine. It’d be great to combine this and knitting to make essentials and to repair clothes that really need it.

Drawing/not really a hobby it’s my “Jobby”: sorry for being a lil slow on updates! I got a little bit of burnout and I really want to finish summers commissions so I can clear my schedule more. I’m just about done so I’m no longer chipping on three projects at a time between my full time job oof-but do know they are being worked on. I’ve got adoptables on the way and sketching the next ask-n update! I’ve also been keeping an eye on other places to post like insta and bluesky but I feel like I need to like…observe? Some more? Before committing and learning whole new platforms and posting schedules bleh.

I got other projects in the pipeline, one including a pmd thing, more Paldea headcanons and what not and some certain purple psychic cat things returning. But all in due time! Can’t overwhelm myself : 0

And a little bit of a rant or ramble about perhaps dropping a longtime hobby I’ve had and feeling sad about it beneath the cut ;( but if you’ve read this far thanks! Love ya’ll for supporting me!

I think a handful of you? Know I roleplay on this platform and have for a good seven? Eight? Years. It’s fun, a lot of my ideas and headcanons and art I’m known for were actually jump started by some random thread or idea from between my rp partners and what not. The Mewtwo blog, ask-n, scarlet turo and etc etc were old muses or ideas that turned into their own thing. It’s always been so easy to write and collaborate your ideas with the rp community you’re in and it becomes it’s whole big thing!

But I know it hasn’t always been the healthiest hobby for me after awhile but esp when I want to focus on content creation as a job that I’m really into. I no longer have the time to maintain plots and characters despite being so determined to stick to it. It’s becoming more of a distraction of just scrolling down the rp dashboard out of FOMO more then anything and heck I can’t even see most of it as a lot of events and verses and etc I blacklist to attempt to curb anxiety and distractions which haven’t been working lately 🤔 I still get lots of anxiety.

That and the community’s changed really. I know every old rper has typed their piece on “back in the good old days-“, leaves their blog and doesn’t give any useful advice or attempt to change the narrative lol. I don’t want to do that.

And it’s not the communities fault either. It’s natural for spaces to change to help new ideas and new people come in. It just means maybe it’s no longer meant for me and that’s okay. If anything it’s more how my friends I’ve been with for all my time there have left or are leaving. There’s a disconnect I can’t seem to get over no matter what new muse or idea I promote esp when I’m no longer comfortable in the space I enjoyed for so long. I never had to block so many things before and again not the communities fault and none of the things I’m blocking are unsavory, it’s more like my tastes and likes and dislikes and what I have spoons for have just become different over so long. It’s totally a me thing.

It’s in my mind that maybe it’s okay to let it go since I’m getting so hyped for my newer hobbies and the ideas I have for my art/comics. I don’t have the time anymore to dedicate so much energy on it like I use to esp when even over all my work Im still figuring out my adhd after getting diagnosed officially, new meds, the other mental diagnosis that makes the mental soup in my head alongside other life stuff.

I owe rp in general for helping me get that creative spark and through a lot of tough, long dark times. It’s provided me with the escapism and outlet since like, forever. I started rping in ye old Neopet neomail days and haven’t stopped since besides the occasional period that didn’t last long. Who knows maybe this is just a rut and I’ll feel better tomorrow or next week or something. Could be the change of seasons where my seasonal depression kicks in but I’m not quitting yet but it’s somewhere in the funky mind palace as I navigate this weird patch.

Thanks if you’ve read my ramblings this far! I wish there was a way to reward peeps who read through my long jargon? It just feels good to know I can scream into the void and sometimes I’ll have one or two people nod at me in understanding. Idk, I’ll think of something—

[latalpavolante]

Single Mom's Cozy Apartment

Yeah, I know, another Single Mom build... This time it's a cozy apartment for a young woman and her daughter, who both have sort of a creative streak and love bright, warm colours.

Two Bedrooms - One Bathroom

Apartment: Honeydew Houses, First Floor

Price: ca. § 32,887

Packs: CottageLiving | EcoLifestyle | DiscoverUniversity | CatsAndDogs | CityLiving | GetTogether | GetToWork | Werewolves | Parenthood | Vampires | Paranormal | LaundryDay | BasementTreasures | EverydayClutter

noCC

MoveObjectsOn cheat required

Playtested

The empty version of the apartment building is available on the Sims 4 gallery! I will share the furnished version as soon as all the apartments are finished!

Gallery ID: LaTalpaVolante

You can watch the speed build on my YouTube channel:

Under the cut you can read another way too long backstory for the sims living in this apartment:

Jeannie got pregnant when she was only 17. Although she obviously hadn't planned to be a mom just yet, she decided to keep the baby. Her boyfriend of that time and father of her child however really wasn't interested in being a dad at that young age, and her family, who she already had a difficult relationship with, didn't react well either and instead held it against her that she'd acted too careless and had herself to blame for this situation. So most of the time, Jeannie had to get around on her own.

When her daughter Elsa was a toddler, Jeannie could convince her family to help her move to a better part of the town, and this is how she got the apartment at the old townhouse at Honeydew Fields. Although now she's even more struggling to make ends meet, she feels it's a much better place for Elsa to grow up.

Elsa means everything to her and she'd do anything to ensure she has a good childhood, even if it means working in two jobs and doing double shifts. With the money she saved over the years and her creativity and resourcefulness, she managed to turn their apartment into a cozy, cheerful home. It's a mix of cheap IKEA furniture, second-hand finds and self-built stuff, but Jeannie seems to have a talent for making the best out of what she has to work with; she revamped and customized some of the furniture and combined everything in a way that makes the small space look quite cohesive, and not necessarily like it was furnished on a budget. Also Barty Jenkins, the caretaker, has a soft spot for her and tries to help her where he can.

Elsa, who is about seven years old now, loves her mom a lot and really looks up to her. They share the same interest in creative activities and often spend time together doing diy projects, drawing and crafting. Overall, she's a cheerful and lively child, although lately she feels her mom has changed a little, as she's often distracted and not as light-hearted as she always seemed to be.

Jeannie in fact tries to hide her struggles from Elsa, and doesn't want her to know about their financial problems and to give her anything to worry about. But she can't deny she's been feeling very tired and exhausted lately, and she can't even remember when was the last time she did anything just for herself, if there ever was a time when being overwhelmed wasn't the default state.

So for how much longer will she be able to hide her feelings from her daughter? Should she hide them in the first place? And is there any chance that life will ever get easier for her, and more hopeful?

(Yeah, I kind of feel I should make separate posts for these backstories because they are really getting out of hand... But thank you so much if you read until here!)

[freewayshark]

Fuck It Friday!

Tagged by @sibylsleaves and @rewritetheending ☺️

Continuing my fuck it Friday tradition of sharing something I started and then more or less abandoned. I’ve posted pieces of this before, early last year I think? For various seven sentence sundays, but I figured I may as well post the whole 4.7k I have. This is an au for the show From, and who knows, it comes back for season 2 in April so maybe my interest in it will return

Tagging! @elvensorceress @fiona-fififi @gayhoediaz if you feel like sharing something

It says a lot about the last few hours that Eddie’s day is already well and truly fucked even before the car crash.

The accident is just the cherry on top, really, the pièce de résistance to this shit-tacular day.

The tree across the road should’ve been his first sign that things were about to go south, but he brushed it off. Trees fall. It happens.

The black birds filling the sky didn’t exactly set him at ease, but they’re birds. Birds fly around.

“Did you know a group of crows is called a murder?” Christopher had helpfully supplied from the passenger seat of the RV Eddie had spent a stupid amount of money renting for the Diaz Boys’ Great Summer Adventure.

“I did not. But hey, maybe they were ravens,” Eddie had said as he’d carefully turned the RV around to find a detour.

“An unkindness then.”

“What?” He’d asked, distracted as he tried to get the stupid vehicle turned around on the narrow road without getting stuck in a ditch, but he got it done, and had looked at his son, the seven year old’s face uncharacteristically serious.

“A group of ravens is called an unkindness.”

And Eddie didn’t know then, why that had unsettled him worse than a murder, but by the time they’d driven through the same tiny town for the third time, passing by the same unsmiling faces, it starts to make a little more sense.

The near collision with a speeding Mercedes stops them from driving through a fourth time, as does the tree that spears through the windshield and traps Eddie in his seat, clipping so close to his ribs on the left side that it tears his shirt and probably takes some skin with it, but miraculously doesn't impale him.

He’s disoriented, a warm trickle of blood on his brow reminding him that he smacked his head on the steering wheel on impact. He blinks, the medic skills ingrained in him already running a checklist over his body. Possible concussion, likely mild, superficial cuts and scrapes from broken glass and the tree, his right wrist hurts like it might be sprained, possibly fractured, and there’s the matter of the RV being on its side, but he’s otherwise unharmed.

But very, very stuck.

He jerks his head to the side, panic rearing when Christopher isn’t in the seat next to him. His brain catches up, and he remembers sending Christopher to sit at the dinner table the second time around, when he’d stopped and asked a man for directions, only receiving a blank look in return.

“Christopher,” he gasps, voice breathy and weak with fear. How could he be so stupid as to send his son into the back of a moving RV, where there are no seatbelts. He hadn’t allowed it the whole trip, so of course the moment he does they’re in an accident.

“Christopher!” He tries again when he gets no answer. He takes a couple of breaths, forcing himself to remain calm. He stayed calm on the ground in Afghanistan, he can stay calm here.

He tries to twist in his seat to look into the back, but the tree hasn’t left him a lot of room to work with, and gravity in a sideways RV isn’t helping him either. He draws in a deep breath and shouts, “Christopher!”

There’s a moan, and the sound terrifies him and electrifies him in equal measure. “Daddy?” Christopher asks, sounding so small.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, buddy. Are you hurt?”

“My—my leg hurts, and I can’t move it.”

“That’s ok, if you can’t, don’t try to. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“My head hurts a little. I think I hit the table, but it’s not bad.”

“Ok, that’s good, Christopher. Can you see what’s wrong with your leg?”

There‘s a pause, and Eddie has to fight down the instinct to start throwing himself against the tree to try to get back there, but then Christopher answers him. “I can’t see. I’m on my belly, and when I try to look it hurts,” he says, and Eddie can hear the tears and pain in his voice.

“Ok, don’t try to look anymore, I’m gonna call for help.” Eddie’s phone is clipped to the dashboard, easily within reach when there’s not a tree pinning him to his seat, but achingly far now. He curses himself for never enabling hands free mode when he last upgraded. He strains against the tree, reaching as far as he can, wrist flaring with pain, and his fingers brush the corner of the phone, but he needs another inch to grab it. He stretches harder, grimacing at the pressure on his ribs, but he manages to push himself up just enough that he’s able to snag it and pull the phone out of the clip, ignoring the burst of pain in his wrist. He leans back, ignoring the dull ache in his chest that’s sure to be a hell of a bruise tomorrow and unlocks his phone.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. No signal. It doesn’t even say emergency calls only. He tries anyway, punching in 911 and holding it to his ear, but there’s just silence as the phone attempts and fails to dial out, connecting to nothing. “Fuck,” he says louder, and it speaks to Christopher’s state that he doesn’t tease his dad for swearing.

He pulls up the phone’s camera and switches to selfie mode, wincing when he gets a look at his face, more blood than he’d realized caked down the side. He allows himself one quick look at the cut above his eyebrow, deems it nothing pressing, and then holds the phone up, angling it this way and that, searching for his son on the screen.

It takes a moment, but when he finds him he sucks in a breath.

There’s a piece of debris jutting out the back of Christopher’s thigh, a dark ring of blood circling it.

——

Buck’s heart had sank when the RV had rolled through town the first time, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from sending up a prayer to any god that will listen that he wouldn’t see it come through again.

It did, of course. And he’d watched as it stopped, and the window had rolled down, revealing an absolutely gorgeous man. He’d listened as the man had asked the closest person how to get back on the highway, and his heart had sunk further, remembering just two years ago when he’d leaned out the window of his jeep and asked the same question.

He’d watched as the RV had come through a third time, turning around at the diner and going back the way he’d come, just like they all try at some point.

The RV doesn’t come back immediately this time, and Buck doesn’t think a lot of it because that too, is par for the course. The man is probably pulled over on the side of the road, consulting a map, or trying to get a signal. If he doesn’t come back before long someone will be sent after him, probably Buck, and that’ll be that.

But then he sees the bloody woman.

“Oh fuck,” Albert says, sitting up straighter on the porch steps they’d been lounging on, and Buck’s up like a shot.

“Go get your brother, or Hen,” Buck demands, and Albert takes off, heading for the small clinic. Buck goes the opposite direction and intercepts the woman. Her knees buckle just as he reaches her, and he’s barely able to morph her collapse into a slow sit down.

“Miss, can you tell me what happened?” He asks, brushing her long red hair out of her face to try to find the source of all the blood. It’s almost funny how quickly he falls back on his firefighter training despite rarely having cause to use it in the past two years.

“RV,” she manages, her eyelids fluttering.

“Did your RV crash?” He asks, looking back down the road where she’d come from.

“Almost hit the RV. Both of us crashed,” she answers, and then passes out.

Buck’s hands go numb. She can’t possibly mean that she wasn’t in the RV. Two cars on the same day? It’s never happened before. He’s not sure there’s ever even been two in the same week. In the two years he’s been here only five cars have come before today, and the last one was months ago.

“What’ve we got, Buckaroo. Did that RV crash?” Chimney asks, dropping to his knees next to Buck and the woman, Albert right on his heels with a backboard.

“Yeah,” Buck answers in a daze. “But she wasn’t in it.”

Chimney and Albert’s attention snaps to him in unison. “What?” Chim asks disbelievingly.

“Before she passed out she said she almost hit the RV, and they both crashed. Fuck.” He shoots to his feet, his brain finally catching up with him. “There’s just a couple hours til sundown.” Buck looks at the sun and grimaces. They’ll be lucky if it’s even two full hours. “Albert, help Chim get her to the clinic and then get Athena and a med bag and come find me.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find that RV.”

——

It’s not hard, thankfully. The stretch of road doesn’t go very far in either direction outside of the town proper before you’re looped back in on the other side, and the woman’s Mercedes isn’t hard to spot wrapped around a tree. Buck checks it to make sure no one is inside, taking a moment to pop the trunk and grab a small first aid kit and roadside toolset before taking off again. Not much further he finds dirt kicked up in deep tire tracks, and if he peers through the trees he can see the back end of an RV on its side.

He slides down an embankment and runs towards the front of the RV.

“Hello?” He calls.

“Oh thank god,” someone says, and Buck recognizes the voice as the man who’d been driving. Buck’s got a half-formed thought that he hopes the man is the only person inside when the man dashes that by saying, “Please, can you help my son?”

Buck stops in his tracks and closes his eyes. The guy hadn’t looked much older than Buck, so his son must be a child. Buck wouldn’t wish this town on anyone, but a child? Fuck. He won’t be the first, and almost certainly not the last, but it aches to think about regardless.

Buck takes a steadying breath. “Yeah, I just gotta figure out how to get in there.”

Buck tosses the first aid kit and tool kit onto the side of the RV now serving as the roof, backs up a few steps, and then runs at the RV, jumping and grabbing anything he can hold onto to pull himself up. He looks around, but there’s just the driver’s door, the camper door presumably now on the ground. He carefully makes his way to the driver’s door, grimacing when he sees the tree speared through the windshield, sure he’s about to get a gory eyeful, but he’s thankful when he looks in the window and finds the tree has just trapped the driver and not run him through.

His eyes find the man’s face, sees the gash above his eyebrow, and the blood, but it doesn’t look too bad, and the man is lucid, his eyes clear and bright.

“Hey, my name is Buck. Are you hurt?”

The man shakes his head. “Not really, just fucking stuck. My son though…” he trails off, and he gets the sense that the man doesn’t want to say it aloud, whether he feels like that makes it real or if he doesn’t want his son to hear, he doesn’t know. “I’m Eddie. My son’s name is Christopher.”

“Ok, Eddie, I’m gonna get you guys out of here.”

——

Buck does not get them out of there. He climbs over Eddie and checks on Christopher, and Eddie hears him talking soothingly to his son, returning to the cab after a couple of minutes.

“How bad is it?” Eddie asks quietly, cutting right to the chase.

“It’s not great, but it could be a lot worse. I’m confident the debris missed the femoral, and I don’t think it hit bone either. But it’s all the way through and embedded in the RV. It’s going to have to be removed before we can get him out.”

Eddie won’t be truly satisfied until he’s out of this fucking seat and checking on Christopher himself. He eyes Buck, really taking him in for the first time, and his eyes narrow when he reads Buck’s t-shirt. “You seem to know what you’re talking about. Guess I’m lucky to be run off the road by LAFD. Awfully far from home though, huh?”

Buck looks puzzled for a second before glancing down at LAFD emblazoned in large letters on his chest, and then his eyes widen as he catches up with the rest of Eddie’s statement.

“Ah, no, I wasn’t driving the other car. A woman was, she managed to walk back into town.”

“Is she ok?”

“I don’t know. I left her in the care of one of our doctors, so hopefully. She told me the RV crashed, so I came running.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, and he feels a fresh round of blood squeeze out of his cut. “You live in this place, but you’re wearing an LAFD t-shirt. Are you even a firefighter?”

Buck shrugs and starts testing the tree for weakness. “As in, am I certified? Yes. Am I currently employed by a fire station? No, because we don’t actually have one. It’s—complicated,” he finishes, finding a weak spot where the tree forks. He pulls a small crowbar from the toolkit and goes to work, and after a few minutes of both of them pulling and pushing and levering, the smaller portion of the tree cracks loose and falls against the passenger side window, allowing Eddie to get free of the driver’s seat. He’s barely got both feet planted before he’s rushing to his son’s side.

“Hey, buddy, I’m here now.”

“Dad,” Christopher breathes, relief coloring his tone. “It hurts,” he adds, turning his little head to the side to look beseechingly at Eddie.

“I know, honey. We’re going to make it better as soon as we can.” Eddie feels Buck’s eyes on him as he carefully checks Christopher’s neck and spine.

“You a doctor?”

“Former army medic,” he answers, moving down to Christopher’s leg now that he’s satisfied he doesn’t have a spinal injury. The debris appears to be a twisted piece of metal, maybe part of the table, Eddie’s not sure, but it’s like Buck says, it’s embedded all the way through Christopher’s leg clear through to the wall of the RV beneath him.

The blood soaking into Christopher’s jeans has barely expanded since Eddie first saw it, and that’s good. Buck seems to be right about the femoral artery not being hit, and he’s pretty confident it hasn’t hit bone either. But getting it out is going to suck, and they’re going to need more than the little first aid kit Buck has.

“I couldn’t get a signal to call 911, can you go back to town to call for help?” He asks as he takes Christopher’s hand and runs his fingers through his hair, his heart aching as he takes in the tear tracks on his face.

“Albert should be here any minute with a med bag,” Buck says, as if that’s reassuring or a response to what he’d said..

Eddie blinks at him. “A med bag? That’s—no, we need to call an ambulance, get rescue out here with equipment, and an ambulance to get him to the hospital.”

Buck grimaces. “Yeah, so, that’s not really possible.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know this is in the middle of nowhere, but someone will come. We can keep him comfortable until then.”

“No, Eddie, you don’t understand, I can’t go call for help. You had to have noticed you drove through town three times while driving in a straight line.”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut, because, yeah. But that’s not how the world works, that’s the stuff of cheap horror novels. “I just kept missing the turn is all. Must’ve been a switchback road, and the curve was so gradual I didn’t notice I was circling back around.”

Buck’s eyes crinkle with so much compassion that Eddie wants to puke. “Yeah, that’s what I figured too.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Eddie demands, but before Buck can answer there’s the sound of someone coming through the woods.

“Buck?” A voice calls, and Buck stands, moving back into the cab.

“We’re in here, Albert!” Buck calls.

There’s the sound of someone climbing up on the side of the RV, and then Buck steps back for a young Korean man to climb down, a med bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Where’s Athena?” Buck asks, taking the med bag and dropping to his knees on Christopher’s other side.

“She’s coming, she said she had to get something. Buck—” Albert cuts himself off and both Eddie and Buck look up at him expectantly and he sighs. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the way Buck pointedly doesn’t look at him when he answers, “I know, Albert.”

Buck digs through the med bag and produces a small pouch. He pulls out a syringe and a vial, holding it up so Eddie can see that it’s a sedative. Eddie nods, and Buck fills the syringe with the appropriate amount.

“Hey, buddy, I’m going to give you a little shot that’s going to help you feel better, ok?”

Christopher’s face screws up, unhappy, but u fortunately the kid is already far too accustomed to needles for someone so young. “Ok,” he answers, and squeezes Eddie’s hand as Buck administers the shot.

There’s the sound of someone else approaching, and Albert scrambles up out of the RV to help a small but imposing Black woman climb down. He assumes she must be Athena.

“It’s getting dark, Buck,” she says, and Eddie watches as his shoulders tighten.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” he asks, but that just makes Buck’s shoulders tighten further.

“These woods get dangerous at night,” Athena says, but Eddie knows they’re all hiding something, and although he’d found himself wanting to trust Buck from the moment he saw him, he feels like he’s on the defensive now.

But he buttons down his distrust. These people are clearly hiding something, but they do seem like they want to help. And he’s currently in desperate need of it.

“Can we move him? Get him to the clinic and deal with his leg there?” Athena asks, observing the scene.

Buck shakes his head. “No. The debris is pinning him to the wall of the RV, and it’s not as simple as just lifting him off it and carrying him out. Even without femoral damage we don’t want to risk that kind of bleeding.”

Athena nods. “Alright. What’s the timeframe then?”

“It won’t be done until well after dark,” he says, and Eddie watches as he and Athena seem to exchange some sort of silent communication. Athena sighs, and digs something out of her pocket.

“Guess you’ll be needing this then,” she says, letting the item drop from her hand. It’s a talisman of some sort, and it hangs by a piece of string from her middle finger.

Albert’s eye widen. “Will that work here?”

Buck grimaces, but accepts the charm from Athena. “No way to know but to do it. You two better go home.” Buck finally looks at Eddie again, meeting his gaze head on. “You need to go with them.”

Eddie can’t help it, he laughs. “Yeah, like hell.”

“Eddie, Athena’s serious. You don’t want to be out here at night if you can help it.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You think hearing that will make me be willing to leave my injured son? With a stranger? Over my dead body.”

Buck looks like he wants to argue but Athena just says, “Buck,” and shakes her head when he cuts a look at her.

“I’ll stay too,” Albert says, and Athena barely gets out a snort before Buck’s arguing.

“No, you absolutely are not.”

“What if the talisman doesn’t work, Buck? I could help.”

“No you can’t, and you know it. Chimney’s probably going to be at the clinic tonight with the woman from the Mercedes, so you can help by staying with Maddie. But do not tell her where I am. The last thing we need is her storming off in the middle of the night to try to drag me home.”

Albert scoffs. “Like she won’t figure it out when I show up instead of you.”

“Then you’ll just have to make sure she stays put, won’t you?”

Albert looks like he wants to keep fighting, but it’s clear even to Eddie that it’s a lost battle, and Albert’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Fine.”

“Glad that’s settled,” Athena says. “But let’s get the windows covered before we go.”

“Good plan. Eddie, do you have any camping lanterns?”

——

Buck can read the helplessness written all over Eddie’s face. He’d told Buck where to find the lanterns and had sat, silent and stony faced, holding Christopher’s hand as Albert and Athena had stripped the bed for sheets and blankets to cover the windows with. He’d remained quiet as Albert had climbed out, as Athena had pulled him aside in the cab to squeeze his shoulder and mutter a quiet be careful, Buckaroo, and make sure he is too before hanging the talisman on the tree and accepting Albert’s hand to climb out.

It’s only once they’re gone, and Buck has returned to kneel at Christopher’s side, that Eddie speaks again.

“We have to focus on getting this thing out of my son’s leg. But once we have, you’re going to talk, and you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on in this place.”

Buck meets his eyes, reads the determination there and knows there’s no getting out of it. Besides, Eddie probably hasn’t caught on yet, but they’re not leaving this RV until morning. There will be plenty of time to talk.

“Let’s get to work then,” Buck says, so they do.

It’s rough, and time consuming. The sedative Buck gave Christopher isn’t anesthesia, so he isn’t saved from the worst of the pain. More than once he sees Eddie wiping his own tears away seconds after wiping away Christopher’s.

Buck can tell it’s killing Eddie that he can’t be much help, but Buck takes on look at Eddie’s purpling wrist, on his dominant hand, of course, because why wouldn’t it be, and vetoes Eddie providing much more than moral support and occasional instruction.

It’s unfortunate, because as a former army medic Eddie most likely has experience with injuries like this, and while Buck did have to have emt certification to be a firefighter in Los Angeles, he’d only been on the job for two weeks before he’d gotten a call from Pennsylvania that had culminated in being stuck here.

But, eventually, it’s done. It’ll most likely need to be cleaned again in the morning when they can get to the clinic, and he’ll need antibiotics, but the obstruction is removed and the wound closed and wrapped. Buck sits back and wipes the sweat off his brow, glancing at the tiny gap in the sheets where the tree made it impossible to block the windshield entirely and is met with pitch black darkness.

“We’re not leaving until daylight, are we?” Eddie asks as he carefully arranges Christopher in his lap, the boy curling against his dad’s chest.

“We wouldn’t make it ten feet out of this RV,” Buck answers, gaze automatically finding the talisman. He hasn’t heard them yet, but he knows they’re out there. They’re always out there, once it’s dark.

“What is it? Bears? Wolves?”

Buck can’t help the bitter laugh. “Bears and wolves are survivable. No, this is something–something else,” he shrugs. “I know you want answers, and I’ll tell you what I know, but the first thing you need to understand is there are no answers. Least not any we know.”

Eddie’s jaw works for a moment. “Ok. Tell me what you know then.”

So Buck talks. He starts with his own story, how two years ago he’d just started as a firefighter in Los Angeles when his sister had called him from Pennsylvania, needing help. He leaves out the details of that, but he talks about how he went, loaded her up in his Jeep, and set out for California, when maybe twenty miles past the Pennsylvania state line, there had been a tree in the road.

“We detoured because of a downed tree too,” Eddie says, and Buck nods.

“We all did. Did you see the crows too?” Eddie hesitates, and then gives a jerky nod. “We all saw those too. And we all turn around, and we all drive through this tiny town. And then we all drive through it again.”

“When you say all…”

“I mean all. No one is from here, we’re all from somewhere else.”

“None of this is possible. You said you were just outside of Pennsylvania? I was in Colorado.”

“And Albert and his brother Chimney were in Oregon. Athena and her family were in Arizona. Everyone here was somewhere different when we drove into this town and never left.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s impossible,” he repeats.

Buck shrugs. “Yes, it is. But it’s also true.”

“Say I believe you about that. What’s with the talisman? What’s in the woods?”

Buck takes a deep breath. This is the hard part. If Eddie’s having a hard enough time believing him about the town at large, he’s not going to believe this next part at all. But he’ll have proof soon enough, because Buck knows it’s just a matter of time until they start circling the RV, it’s a wonder they haven’t already.

“There are things out there that only come out at night. We don’t know for sure what they are, only that they look like us, but they aren’t. These talismans keep us safe, keep them from coming into our homes unless we open the door for them.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“Because they talk, Eddie, and they ask us to. And it can be pretty fucking hard not to listen.”

“You know what you’re describing sounds an awful lot like vampires.”

Buck nods. “Don’t say that in town though, makes people jumpy. I don’t know if that’s what they are, but they’re definitely similar. But if they catch you out after dark you’re not going to have two little mosquito bites on the side of your neck. They’ll tear your ribcage open and eat your heart.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m not saying any of this to scare you. You need to know, because you’re stuck here like the rest of us now.”

Eddie looks down at the child sleeping on his chest. “I don’t believe in shit like this.”

“I didn’t either, not really. You learn to adapt.”

Eddie looks past Buck at the talisman. “What happens if it doesn’t work for an RV?”

Buck doesn’t respond for a moment, weighing the repercussions of honesty here. But he can tell Eddie needs the truth, and can handle it, so he says, “We pray it’s quick.”

——

Eddie is awoken by the sound of nails scraping against metal. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but the crick in his neck tells him it’s been a while.

He sits up, careful to not dislodge Christopher. Buck had turned off all the lights but one, but it’s enough light to see Buck standing a few feet away, crowbar clutched in a white knuckle grip.

“Is it—” he cuts himself off when Buck holds a finger up to his lips and nods.

The scratching moves along the side of the RV, and Eddie is all too aware that he can’t hear the sound of footsteps on the dry leaves, despite everyone else’s approach being announced by the crunch.

“Eddie.”

He jumps, because that wasn’t Buck’s voice.

[bayisdying]

Behind A Screen

Lucky's eyes hadn't moved from her phone in what felt like hours. That one little world bouncing around in her head. Squidward. The cruel nickname her bullies had bestowed upon her back in elementary school all because of her nose.

"You good over there Lucky?" Spicy asked as she wiped down the bar, her voice startled Lucky enough that she nearly dropped her phone.

"You scared the shit out of me Spice!" She tried to laugh it off.

Lucky knew that Spicy could read her like a book, and that she was a terrible liar when it came to her friends. But Spicy didn't press her, and for that she was grateful.

"Oh my God, is that Squidward?!"

The comment had come from a former classmate, one who had made her life hell. It shouldn't shock her, but it still stung. She was reading it over and over, hearing the laughter from her childhood.

"Babe?" Cin's hand rubs her shoulder.

"Yeah? Sorry. Got distracted."

"Are you okay? You seem very in your head."

Lucky smiled at that, of course Cin would be the one interrogating her. That's how their friendship worked. Spicy was the quiet supporter until you needed her to get loud - and get loud she could. Cin started at about a 50 and could go either way depending on the situation. Lucky? Lucky started at 100 and stayed at 100.

"It's nothing Cin."

"Doesn't seem like nothing."

Lucky sighs, she knew her friend wouldn't let her get out of telling her. So she just slides her phone over to Cin who takes it.

"Squidward?" Cin asks. "Who is Squid...ward.."

Cin hands the phone to Spicy who has a similar reaction. "Bay what is this?"

"It's a classmate, I'm Squidward. That was what the other kids called me. Because of my nose."

Spicy and Cin share a look.

"Your nose isn't even that big." Cin says

"Tell that to children." Lucky said "it's no big deal guys."

They drop it, for now. That was until Luckys phone buzzed with a text message and she had Bradley look at it for her. He read the text then got curious and read the post and comments.

"Sis, what is this?"

"What, who texted?"

"No what's these comments on a picture of you?"

Lucky snatched her phone back. "It's nothing Roo."

"Didn't look like nothing Lucky, sure looked like childish bullying to me."

"It's fine. I'm a big girl."

"Lucky..."

"Roo drop it I'm fine." Lucky snaps, causing the rest of them to look over at them.

Lucky took a look around at all their friend's concerned faces and bolted to the bathroom locking herself in, much like the very first time Drew Larson had called her by the name.

-----

They had been partnered together for an assignment. Baylie was doing most of the work and finally got tired of Drew not helping.

"Can you please help?"

"Shut up Squidward." He had retorted.

It shut her up all right, she was so taken aback by his comment that it stunned her.

"You know you really do look like Squidward, with that big nose of yours." He continued laughing.

Baylie went to the teacher and asked to use the bathroom, as she walked out of the classroom she heard Drew whispering to another classmate about her nose.

By the end of that day in first grade, Baylie was called Squidward and it would continue all the way through high school.

-----

A knock on the bathroom door brings her back to the present. She wasn't seven years old anymore, she was a grown woman, a Naval aviator.

"Bay?" It was a voice she hadn't been expecting, it was Jake.

She wiped her tears real quick before she unlocked the door, the worried look on his face greeted her.

"Did you draw the short straw to come and get me?"

"Actually I offered." He opened up his arms. "Come here."

She rolls her eyes then hugs him, he squeezes her tight. It was...not at all like the Jake she knew.

"What's up with you?" She asks, looking up at him.

"Listen, I read those comments. I know I haven't always been the nicest to you but I saw red."

She just looks at him puzzled, "who are you and what have you done with my friend Jake?"

He laughs, "I'm still right here dickhead."

He walks her back to their group, Mickey gets up and kisses her soundly. Rooster pretended to vomit, and Spicy elbows his ribs.

"So what are we going to do about this?" Cin asked.

"Absolutely nothing wifey, I don't need to justify any of them with a response. I got my besties right here. Even Jake."

They all laugh as Jake feigns being hurt.

"I'm not that bad Lucky!" He exclaims.

"Sure buddy."

-----

Little Baylie would be so happy to know that instead of Squidward she was called Lucky now. And yes, she had the best friends in the whole world. Even Jake fucking Seresin.

-----

Tagging the besties: @dragon-kazansky @mrsjaderogers @gracespicybradshaw @callmemana @cycbaby @callsignscupcake @breadsquash

[monsteronfire]

Fishing for a Star

type;; One-shot (6.4K words)

pairing(s);; fratboy!JK x older!Reader/OC

genre;; Slice of Life, Smut, College AU

warnings;; Drinking, oral (male receiving), shy!Koo, sub!Koo, slightly dom!Reader/OC, Yoongi being a dumbass voyeur, both parties pining for each other like idiots

a/n;; I feel like it’s been a motherfuckin’ year since I’ve written and posted anything. I honestly started this thing probably a year ago. I just really love the chill college parties trope. Might add more to this, but unlikely. Enjoy my pain as I cry over JK in leather.

edit;; Totally forgot to put a read more tag on here, sorry y’all. I even told myself to fucking do it right as I started the post. Also the pic isn’t mine, got it off Google.

------

“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing.”

You step out of the way for your housemate, the hoodie you’d picked out momentarily blinding you while you pulled it over your head.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be putting it on.” You say, finally getting it over your head and shaking the hair out of your face. You blink at her half-way-to-getting-ready state, noting in the back of your head how good she looks even now. Her hair is done, wavy and a little disheveled. The shine of the dark strands makes you want to run your fingers through them, knowing they will be soft. Her makeup is half done and she’s dressed only in her underwear, but she’s beautiful all the same. You can tell she’s planning to doll herself up tonight and why shouldn’t she? It’s one of the biggest frat parties of the year and with it being her last year, she’s aiming to have a good time.

“This is a party, (Y/N). At least try and look a little slutty.”

You snort and grin a little, watching her pop her hip out while she eyes you.

“Why is that, baby?” You reply, reaching up to pull a couple of strands of her hair back into place fondly.

“I plan to get laid tonight. I expect you to too, babe.” She snaps, swatting your hand away.

“Sorry, sexy. I’m fishing for something special tonight and it doesn’t require the slutty look.”

“Oh god, not again.”

“What?” You question, turning back to the full length mirror and carding your fingers through your own hair to fix it.

“You’ve been after this boy for three years, (Y/N). He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” She states, walking away from you and back into the bathroom. You’re still smiling when you check one final time to make sure the jeans you’re wearing make your ass look great before leaning against the door frame.

“That was my plan from the beginning. Now I just need to wrap him around mine.”

She snorts, leaning over the sink and closer to the mirror.

“I said three years, didn’t I? If you haven’t bagged him yet, you won’t.”

You pout at her, but are undeterred. You know what kind of person he is and you’re well aware of how much work he had and will continue to take. You could tell he was not a one and done from the first moment you saw him. He would take time, a lot of it and you were willing to put it all in.

“You know how stubborn I can be.” You chuckle at her. She rolls her eyes, but smirks none the less. She knows she can’t say a word to change your mind.

“Whatever. If I catch you two together, I’m telling him to fuck you already.”

You laugh as you walk away, working on gathering what you’ll want to take to the party.

“You sure I’ll even be allowed at this thing?!”

“Are you kidding?! Everyone is invited to this party. The doors are left open so anyone can just fucking walk in off the street!”

You chuckle, grabbing your bag and stuffing your wallet in it. You’d graduated a couple years ago and while most of the seniors would know you, you sometimes felt weird hanging out at a party in the college you’d already graduated from. A girl has to do what she has to do when a baby boy is on the line, though.

And a baby boy he was.

-

“Jae!”

You smile as you and your friend enter the large, old house. The lighting is dim, the music is thumping and all you can smell is alcohol, sex and sweat. There’s noise all around you, but you and your friend weave through the crowd easily. Nearly everyone greets you as you two pass, guys high-fiving you and girls giggling and touching your arms. You bounce to the music as you follow her, the two of you making your way past the front stairs and down the hall. You make a pit stop in the kitchen- Jae grabbing the classic Solo cup and you pulling a bottle of beer from a cooler full of ice- before heading out onto the back deck.

The backyard is just as crowded as the house, people in the pool, people in the gazebo and people littering about the yard and deck. There’s a large bonfire near the back of the yard and a couple other smaller fire pits in random spots. One of them is up on the deck in a small metal  pit, the warm flames surrounded by the very reason you and Jae came tonight.

“There’s our girls!” Namjoon shouts, lifting his can and drawing the attention of the seven other guys around him to you two. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin all shout in unison as they spot you, Tae standing and pressing a sloppy kiss to your friend’s cheek. Yoongi and Namjoon lift their hands as you get closer and you reach out to slap each one. Jimin stands to press little pecks to first your cheek and then Jae’s. You all greet each other quietly before Jae slides herself into her target’s lap. She’s been after Jin all year and you haven’t been the only person sitting back to watch their game of cat and mouse. Jin is practically an expert at flirting just enough to keep her hooked without giving her what she really wants.

To be young and in lust.

Your eyes finally find the last member of the group, his silence keeping him out of spotlight unless he’s being searched for. He’s already looking at you when you spot him and his eyes dart down to his shoes while he shuffles behind Yoongi and Jimin. He can only keep his eyes off you for a moment before they find yours and he’s trapped. You smile softly at him, taking delight in how his eyes widen a fraction and his pupils grow. He’s holding a Solo cup, the rings on his fingers glinting in the firelight as he deftly squeezes them a bit tighter. He looks good tonight, his dark hair pushed back away from his forehead to show his strong brow. He’s dressed in all black, black t-shirt tucked into black jeans, black boots and to top it all off a leather jacket. He definitely pulled all the stops on you tonight and you have to make a conscious effort not to drool when you stare at him. He looks like a badass and you know every other girl in this joint sees him the same way, but you know the truth.

“Uh-oh,” Jae mumbles into Jin’s ear.

“She’s spotted her target and is locked on.”

You don’t bother listening to her, instead creeping closer to the object of your desire.

“Hey, Jungkookie,” You murmur quietly to him, leaning in a bit closer, but not too close. You had to be very meticulous with him.

“Hey, noona,” he responds shyly and the whole circle of friends is a sniggering mess for a moment. Pink begin’s to dust his cheeks, but you spare him a little and turn to flick Jimin in the back of the head.

“You lot are pretty curious tonight. Weren’t you all having a conversation before we came up?”

They all snigger some more, but quickly go back to bullshitting around the fire, leaving you and Jungkook in peace. You take another step closer to him, half expecting him to maintain the distance between you, but he remains still and lets you get closer. Threes years it’s taken you to get even this close to him, his overtly shy and sweet demeanor keeping him just out of reach of your darker, more corrupted hands.

“You look good tonight,” you comment and his blush darkens in the firelight. He thanks you almost too quietly, quickly bringing the cup of beer he’s holding to his lips to distract himself somehow and it has you chuckling lowly at him. He looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and you can’t stop the fiendish grin on your lips. You finally give him some respite, turning away from him to join in on the random conversation that the group is sharing around the small fire pit.

Finally…

He get’s his chance and takes it without a second thought. He spent years hesitating in such small matters and found himself either missing out or always caught if he didn’t take the chance when it was presented to him. So he learned. Now when you have those few precious moments where your focus is not on him- where you are off guard for just a beat- he gets to watch you instead. Watch the way your eyes glow in the firelight, or the way your hair just barely shifts as a warm breeze lazes by. He takes in your simple outfit, jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing like the rest of the girls at every party he’s ever been to. Your smile moves your whole face, your cheeks rising, you lips splitting and even your eyes squinting shut as you tease Taehyung. His lips quirk a little on their own when he notices that your ears shift a little when you smile as well.

Your lashes are long even without makeup, so much so that the first time he’d ever met you he could have sworn they were fake. But then he caught you tugging on them one afternoon while you told old stories with Namjoon. You did it regularly and had told him you could feel the dead ones coming out, you wanted to get them before they fell into your eyes. A quirk he’d logged away to keep safe for the rest of eternity. The beer in your one hand shifts to the other, the rings on your fingers clinking just loud enough for him to hear over Hoseok’s shouting. A hobby of sorts you shared with Jimin. You two wore the same ring size and often went shopping for new ones together, even swapping every now and again. The free hand moves about in the air as you speak and Jungkook thinks it almost weird now to see someone talk without gesturing with their hands so much. How did one truly immerse another in their words if they didn’t show them how it felt as well? When you were angry- fuming for either your own hardships or for those of a friend- you pointed a lot, your head shaking and your hands slicing through the air to signal how done you were. When you told stories of your adventures with the oldest members of his brothers your hands where always in the air; swiping, rolling, falling and twisting. You painted such a picture with only the movement of your hands when you spoke. They weren’t really dainty, your palms wide and your fingers not very long, but they fit perfectly with his hands. A fact that amazes him, but that he’s grown rather fond of. When you laugh, it’s loud. Not soft, not like the twinkling of bells, but like a song. Loud, but still beautiful and it can range from joyous mirth to deep and rich fondness, the type of feeling that fills your chest with warmth and adoration. That’s the laugh he enjoys the most, that deep chuckle. The one you give to him quietly so just the two of you can hear it.

He wants you. He was confused at first, for a long time. Scared of your mature age compared to him and your strength. He always sees you as strong, even if you don’t think so yourself. You always make him nervous, unsure if he is really worthy of the sweet attention you give him. The quiet whispers just between the two of you, the soft touches, the adoring look in your eyes. He fears all your attention, but he can’t deny now that he wants it- needs it. He can’t go a day without it.

-

The party winds down and you are delighted at the sight of mattresses being brought down and strewn haphazardly across the floor in their living room. When Jungkook finally picks his spot you waste no time in shuffling closer to his mattress. Normally you would keep your distance, allowing him his comfort of solitude to sleep, but you’ve already allowed him plenty of his liberties tonight. You will get something out of this evening if not a simple kiss in the dark. He shocks you by saying nothing as you lay down, your eyes just catching a glimpse of Jae and Jin heading upstairs. Probably to his room to finally earn what she’s worked so hard for. She quickly casts you a thumbs up, a large grin on her face as she tries to keep it unnoticed by anyone else in the room. You return the gesture and chuckle, groaning a bit when you body finally hits the not so comfortable springs. You take a moment to sigh before opening your eyes again and focusing them on the object of your desires.

He’s staring right back at you and your breath catches in your throat, lost in the sea of stars in his eyes. They’re wide and shining, staring so intently at you that you almost don’t take notice to the shine of his lips. Like he’s just licked them a few times. Even in the dim light of the moon that filters in through the windows and the very few lights in the house on you can see them glisten, and your eyes are torn between them and his shining eyes. He looks like a lost puppy staring at you, but there’s more in his eyes. He looks in awe, almost afraid and- dare you say it- a little eager. Like he wants something to happen, but it scares him and that thought alone drives straight to your core. A fire alights inside you and suddenly you’re staring back at him with equally wide eyes, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. The action immediately draws his large eyes to your mouth and fuck if you don’t almost groan when his tongue pokes out to lick nervously over his lips again.

His mouth parts ever so slightly and you swear you can hear him panting a little over the din of people ambling to where they plan to sleep. Someone plops down directly behind you, their back hitting yours as they shift to get comfortable. You’re right on the edge of the mattress, so this person has to be hanging off the one they’re laying on to be this close to you. And by the feel of how broad their shoulders are it’s definitely a man. Your eyes narrow and you almost growl when Jungkook stiffens in front of you and the man knocks against you again. Your head turns just enough to spot the thin, white shirt he’s wearing stretch over one shoulder before you’re shoving back with your elbow. He grunts when you dig into his back, but says nothing else, only leaning away from the discomfort. He’s clearly wasted. Still, he’s too close to you and taking the great opportunity presented before you, you scoot closer to the apple of your eye. He doesn’t shy away and it takes all your effort not to reach out to him when you finally focus back on him.

“Sorry,” you whisper, scooting just a tiny bit closer than you really need to. He shakes his head quietly, mumbling out an ‘it’s okay’ while his body leans closer to yours. God you want to ravage this sweet boy. It’s practically making your heart explode with how cute he’s being right now. He’d looked away in his response, but when he looks back to you he’s dragging his lip through his teeth and you really can’t take it. Again you two are lost in your own little world as you stare at each other.

“Jungkookie… you’re not being very nice to me right now.”

His eyes widen even further- if that’s even possible- and he looks almost stricken at the comment.

“What?” He manages to almost whimper out and you just can’t stop yourself from scooting even closer to him.

“You’re looking at me so sweetly, baby. How am I supposed to play nice with you tonight if you keep staring at me like that?”

You don’t know where all this confidence is coming from. Granted you’ve always been a bit more confident than the young man in front of you, but even still, you never thought you’d get to a degree where you were saying such flirtatious things in such a dominant tone to him.

“Play… nice?”

The glint changes in your eyes and Jungkook visibly shutters at the sight. Your eyes had been so deep and full of adoration just a moment ago, now all he sees is greed and lust. It makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants. Gods he’s been hard from the moment you called him that nickname- Jungkookie. He generally doesn’t like anyone, but the guys saying it. But every time you say it…

He’s almost scared to feel how excited he’s getting every time you scoot a little bit closer. He doesn’t want you to stop. Not until your body is finally pressed to his and he can hold you so tight, and never let go. He’d hoped something would have happened between you two before tonight, but he was always so scared and you were always so cautious with him. He just wants you to ravage him already. He’s dreamed about it practically every night, it might as well happen already.

“Stop,” you suddenly say and he can feel your fingers on his chin, pulling his lip from between his teeth.

“If you lick or bite your lips one more time,” you have to take a moment to calm yourself before continuing, “… I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”

He throbs in his jeans and when he locks eyes with you he’s lost. He doesn’t want you to stop, he realizes that now after feeling your fingers touch his skin. Fire ignites where they trace from his chin and along his jaw. He trembles beneath your touch and you can feel it. Oh you can feel it. You do the opposite of what you just told him, biting your lip to draw his eyes to them again as you two gravitate ever closer.

“Unless you don’t want me to.”

He doesn’t speak, he feels like he doesn’t know how to in that moment. He doesn’t trust himself to anyway, so he does the next best thing. He licks his lips again and is rewarded. Your fingers that had been running along his jaw suddenly snake into the hair at the nape of his neck and you pull him close. He is just as needy as you are, his hands which had been fiddling with his shirt the whole time are suddenly flying up to tug your bodies even closer. Your lips crash against his and he whimpers into your mouth when you both open them simultaneously, your tongue dragging along his. It takes all your conscious effort not to moan, your body melding itself against his. His arms wrap around you and squeeze you to him, his whimpers turning into a little moan when you gain dominance in the kiss.

You pull away, one of your hands coming back to his jaw to to place a thumb over his open lips. You turn to look back at the bodies laying around the room, most of the members of the fraternity still down here, all of them passed entirely the fuck out. The guy just behind you is snoring up a storm and you can’t help smirking a little when you turn back to face Jungkook. He looks so fucked out already, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown wide as he pants lightly against your thumb. Your smile is both devious and full of fondness as you stare at him.

“You look so good baby, but you have to be quiet for me,” you whisper to him and he does nothing more than open his mouth wider. His tongue snakes out and licks against your thumb, pulling it in and sealing his lips around the appendage. He suckles on it hungrily and gods be damned if your panties aren’t soaked at this point.

“Fuck,” you sigh, squeezing your thighs together. You want him so bad it almost hurts. He pulls away far enough that your thumb pops from his lips and he whimpers once again, pulling you as close as he can.

“Noona, please,” he says, his breath shuddering.

“Please what, baby?”

He grabs one your hands and pulls it down between your bodies, pressing your palm to the bulge in his jeans. Your breathing deepens when you palm the hardness through the thick fabric, wondering how you didn’t notice it before.

“Oh baby,” you coo quietly and rub your hand heavily over his bulge. He bites his lip to hold back the moan threatening to break free and you feel his hips start to rock into your hand. He’s so fucking hot, how have you been able to resist him for so long?

“How long have to been this hard?”

He takes a moment to respond, trying to take deep breaths. Your hand stalls to help him regain some semblance of sanity, but he seems against the idea. His hand returns to gripping yours, pressing your palm back against his hard-on.

“Long time,” he finally gets out in a clipped tone, probably unable to speak properly at this point.

“Poor thing.”

You pull closer to him, pressing your forehead to his and lowering your voice so that you’re barely audible.

“Take your cock out for me, baby. Please.”

He keeps you close and groans into your neck, only taking a moment to collect himself before he’s pushing away, and his hands are flying to undo his pants. He struggles with the button for a moment, but you don’t help him, only leaning back to watch with excitement. When he finally gets them undone he’s tugging them down just enough so he can freely pull is cock out and gods is it beautiful. Your mouth waters as soon as he has it out, its pink color and red head making you want to feel the weight of it on your tongue. It’s not particularly long, but it’s thicker than you thought it would be and the precum that glistens on his tip calls out to you. You let out a heavy breath when his hands hover just shy of his shaft, trembling and aching to give the poor weeping thing some relief. Still he hesitates to touch himself.

Such a good boy.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you practically wheeze out, finding it hard to breathe when your twitching hand finally reaches out for him. He’s whimpering before you even touch him and you have to remind him to be quiet when the tip of your finger goes to touch the head.

“Remember, baby, keep it down.”

He nods a little shakily and just as you press into the precum on his tip with your finger, his hands are flying up to cover his mouth. He’s so sensitive and you love it.

“Well, you’re certainly aching there aren’t you? Does it feel good to have me touch you?”

Again he nods and you pout, swirling your finger in the sticky fluid at his tip. His eyes clench shut at the sensation and he deftly thrusts his hips up to meet more of your hand.

“Use your words or I’ll have to stop.”

“Yes,” he whispers out harshly, his hands clenching into fists at his stomach, “… yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You smirk, the high you’re getting from all of this driving you to carry on.

“Good boy.”

You continue to swirl your finger over his tip a few more times, widening your circle until you’re sliding your finger down the top of his length, all the way to the base. He pants a little too heavily, his eyes glued to your hand and what you’re doing to him. You circle around his base to the bottom of his cock before dragging your finger back up and rubbing it deftly over the slit a few times.

“Fuck noona-“

“Language, Jungkookie.” You say with a smirk, your hand finally flattening over the underside of his length so you can palm him a few times. His hips rock against his will and meet you half way every time you press down on him. He looks so pretty like this, his eyes nearly black and so focused on how your palm drags over his length. He’s sweating a little, panting a lot and his gorgeous cock is ready to explode at any second. And you’ve barely even done anything to him yet.

“What made you so hard and needy like this?”

He stays silent for a long moment, only answering when the pressure of your hand lightens and you begin to pull away.

“You… you made me like this. You always… make me like this.”

Always?

“Fuck, Kookie, if you had told me sooner we might’ve actually got it in tonight.”

His eyes are glistening at this point as they shoot up to glance at you before scrunching shut when your fingers finally wrap around his shaft. You pump him slowly, but his hips make up for that and keep the sliding of his cock in and out of your hand at a steady pace.

“I wanted to. Fuck I wanted to, but…”

“But?”

He pants a few times, focused more on chasing his high. Your grip on his cock tightens to the point that he’s forced to stop thrusting, only allowing him to continue when he answers.

“I-I was scared. And you were being so cautious with me-“

“Of course I was! I didn’t want to scare you away. I worked too hard for you, I wasn’t going to mess that up by being too greedy.”

His hips stutter and then pause, his eyes opening to look at you. His face is flush, you can tell even in the dark, and his hair is starting to stick to his face. Still he looks like the sexiest, most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why?”

“What?” You ask, not prepared to be questioned back like this.

“Why did you put so much effort into me. You could’ve easily slept with one of the other guys. Yoongi’s always had the hots for you. So has Tae. Why me?”

You take a long moment to mull over your answer, your other hand coming up to push some of his sweaty hair out of his face. When you get some clear, you lean in to kiss him a little more gently this time. Though it isn’t any less heated, it’s more of a deep sensual kiss than one of hunger and lust. When you pull away, you look him in the eyes when you answer.

“The same reason anyone chooses anyone else. You’re the one I wanted, Kookie. I would’ve put in a hundred years of work if I had to.”

His eyes are wide with adoration and awe, but the moment can’t last forever. His cock twitching in your hand reminds you of what is happening and you squeeze it gently before going back to pumping him. He gasps quietly at the sensation, his eyes falling closed and his body slowly starting to roll backwards. You move with him, pressing your body into his side when he’s finally laying flat on his back. His hands are clenching and unclenching against his stomach, desperate for some kind of anchor. A thought pings into your mind while you watch him grasp sporadically at his shirt, releasing his cock and pushing both his hands and the shirt up his abdomen. He whines at the loss of contact, lifting his head to see why you’d stopped stroking him only for his eyes to go wide. He looks a bit panicked, his gaze darting around to the half dead bodies around you two. You could so easily be caught, but most of the occupants of the house were completely wasted and would likely never remember this even if they did see it.

You slide down his body quietly, stealthily, like a cat taunting its prey into the shadows. Your eyes catch his and they hold him, their mischief so palpable that it makes Jungkook’s mouth go dry and his cock pulsate so fiercely it taps against his stomach. Your one hand trails down his side lightly, nails tickling his hip and thigh so that he’s shuddering beneath you. He reaches for you, one hand cupping your cheek- wants to tell you to stop, but his throat is so dry he can’t even whisper. Or perhaps he’s lying to himself and doesn’t want you to stop at all. When you quirk an eyebrow in question and you feel the object of your desire tap against your throat with another needy pulse, you know the answer is no, he doesn’t want you to stop.

A trembling whisper of your name leaves his lips and you can only smirk, tilting your head down to kiss just above his navel and then to one side of it. Down, down, further you trail, your kisses getting sloppier as you descend closer to your target. Your tongue and teeth leave wet, rosy patches as you go and you can feel his muscles quivering every time you touch him until finally the desperately red tip of his cock is right in front of you. He whimpers beneath you and you shush him gently, unable to tear your eyes away from the way it pulses and twitches up towards you.

“Please,” he finally lets out, sounding much like he’s on the verge of tears. You smirk again and glance up at him through your lashes.

“Please what, baby?”

He huffs cutely, his other hand cupping the other side of your face and his thumbs smoothing along your cheekbones like he’s so desperate to just pull you into his cock, but doesn’t want to be too demanding. You smile a bit more when his look gets more and more frantic, one of your arms reaching up to rub his chest under his shirt soothingly.

“Relax, my sweet star. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“P-please…”

“Go on, baby. I know you want it, just tell me.”

“Please, I want your mouth,” he finally shutters out, but you can’t help yourself and push just a bit more.

“What do you want from my mouth?”

He huffs again and looks away, searching the room to make sure everyone there is truly oblivious.

“I-I want…”

“Want?”

“Please, noona, ravage me with your mouth.”

He looks you directly in the eyes as he finishes and the glee that soars through you practically makes you light headed. You grin broadly at him and bite your lip.

“I’ll give you anything you want, bunny. You just have to ask.”

Before he can really bask in your words you focus back on his cock, the hand that had been trying to soothe him shooting down to wrap gently round his base and lead his head to your waiting tongue. His breath shudders out and his mouth opens to let out a rush of air. The precum leaking from his tip covers your tongue in salt, but you don’t mind, all too desperate to feel the full weight of him at the back of your throat. Still you take your time, only licking at his slit to tease him, another droplet of precum oozing out every time to you do.

He’s panting while he watches you, his hands trembling on your face until one shakily weaves into your hair at the crown of your head. He doesn’t grip or pull, doesn’t try to shove more of his cock into your mouth which is what you’re used to. No, he’s too gentle and sweet to force anything. He only wants and lets you lead the way. When you finally wrap you lips around his tip he can’t hold back the noise, his head falling back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and what he hopes is a quiet moan leaving him. And you can only smirk at the sound, the subtle shudder in his voice making you even more wet and your stomach clench with desire.

You take the time to generously wet the head of his cock, delighting in its twitches while you swirl your tongue around him. When you pop him from your lips the poor thing looks pathetic, practically weeping in your fingers and you feel all too obliged to take him back in. Only this time you take him all in, or at least as much as you can. You suck him all the way to the back of your throat, moaning quietly around his shaft so he can feel the vibrations. And oh does it make him make the most wonderful of sounds. A surprised cry and the slapping of a hand over his mouth (the one that was lightly stroking his fingers along your cheek) has you trying to smile around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-…”

He lets the mantra trail off quietly, his body arched so you can’t see his face anymore. And as much as you adore the sight of him losing control, you’d much rather see the pleasure on said face. You suck harshly and pull off him, letting him once again pop from your lips. You take care to pump him slowly while you speak, you spit slicking his cock enough that there’s little friction.

“Look at me baby.”

It takes him a few moments, but you wait patiently until he realizes you gave him an order and he follows through. He looks a little lost when he finally locks eyes with you, his gaze a little wild like he can’t really see you at first.

“Noona?”

“Are you with me, sweetheart?”

He looks confused, but nods all the same, probably ready to agree to anything at this point.

“Listen carefully, baby. I want you to look at me the whole time. Don’t you dare look away or I’ll stop, okay? Eyes on me.”

He nods deftly, afraid he won’t be able to fulfill your request, but eagerly wanting to please you.

“Good boy.”

You don’t give him any time to prepare himself and suck him back in as far as he’ll go. He wheezes and squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, quickly remembering your order and opening them back up to focus on you again. You smirk around his cock to let him know you approve and focus back on your task. When you can’t push him any further down your throat you opt to bob your head, one hand stroking what you can’t swallow and the other massaging his balls. You look up every few seconds to make sure he’s still watching and only have to stop once to make him look at your again. The sloppier his cock and your mouth gets the more he shakes and shudders beneath you, the hand in your hair trembling like a leaf in the wind. He keeps his other hand up by his face, ready to cover his mouth every time he can’t hold back a whimper or moan.

It doesn’t take long, only a few minutes and he’s desperately pleading to you, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I-“

You push him in as far as you can take and swallow around him just once before he’s shooting his load down your throat. Tears form in his eyes when he squeezes them shut and you can’t fault him when his head falls back onto the mattress. He did such a good job of watching you, you’ll let him have this one. When the last of his cum is swallowed down, you take care to gently clean what you can off his cock with your tongue. He shakes and gasps beneath you as you do, his head shaking back and forth as if to say he can’t take anymore. You pop off him one last time and kiss his tip softly, grinning when he finally cracks his eyes open to look at you.

He looks madly in love while he stares at you and it makes you somewhat nervous to see such intense emotion in his eyes. You lift yourself and crawl back up his body, pausing to help him pull his pants back up and his shirt back down. You hush him when he tries to button and zip everything back up, pushing his weak and tired hands away.

“No one will notice, just rest baby.”

“Well that was hot.”

You freeze over him, Jungkook’s body going rigid and his eyes widening with fear. You both look over your shoulder and spot Yoongi a small ways away from the foot of your mattress, laying on his side with his head propped up in one hand. He’s smirking at the two of you and while Jungkook looks mortified, you only feel proud. Now someone has witness that Jungkook is yours and no one else can have him.

“Hyung,” he whispers harshly, both his hands coming up to cover his face. You smile fondly at your boy before looking back to Yoongi.

“Well if you’re good and keep this to yourself, maybe next time you can join us.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow and grins excitedly, Jungkook letting out a panicked noise when you settle in beside him. He whispers to you quietly as if he doesn’t want Yoongi to hear and you only shush him gently to calm him.

“Lay down and rest, bunny. Don’t worry about him, he’ll keep quiet.”

“But-“

“Shh, sleep.”

You run your fingers through his hair until he finally settles down, turning so that he can wrap himself around you and tuck his head under your chin. You chuckle lovingly and continue to pet him, using your free hand to flip Yoongi off when he makes lewd gestures at you in the dark.

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”

[thegoldenheiress]

meta + klaus      /      @anon

So I want to start this off as saying that Hope’s feelings for her father are COMPLICATED at best.  Klaus abandoned her by the age of 10/11 years old and has done some things that have left a mark on her.  I will be tagging this post as an anti post just in case people don’t want to see this on their dash but DO NOT REBLOG THIS POST IF YOU SEE IT IN THE TAGS. I WILL BLOCK YOU.  This isn’t be straight up bashing him though or anything either. I play this character so there is clearly something that draws me to him as well.

Okay,  Hope grew up from 2-7 years old hearing stories that are painted for a CHILD to hear.  Her mother never once bashed her daddy to her and Hope knew of him as a KNIGHT IN SHINNING ARMOUR.  She thought of this original hybrid as the guy that will protect her from everyone.  Hope didn’t have a negative bone in her body about in during this time.  She couldn’t wait to meet this man that would treat her as a PRINCESS.  Hope often asked about Klaus and would fall asleep to this idea of a man that she remembers.  Hope was TWO years old when her mother drove the u-hual out of NOLA with a toddler in the front seat snoozing away.  Hope has memories of him in terms of APPEARANCE and this feeling of SAFETY and LOVE that wrapped around her being.

Then let’s fast forward to when Klaus and her meet at SEVEN years of age. Hope’s every thought about him is right. He treats her as royalty,  gives her the best snacks,  goes up against the enemies for her and more.  BUT then the hollow forces them to leave each other again.  Hope struggled against her mother when her father flashed away and the last thing she remembers before tears flooded her little eyes was YELLING for her dad.  It is traumatizing to a child that thinks this whole thing is her fault.  She spent days not talking or eating before her dad called her mother and she gets to see him over a screen again. 

Hope spends the next for years  (7-11) years old there are LETTERS, PHONE CALLS,  FACE TIMING, and GIFTS sent to her.  It isn’t a lot and for her after a while it isn’t enough.  Hope then tries to SEE HIM via astral projection. Hope sees her father as the MONSTER that he was for the first time in person.  Sees Klaus covered in blood and SCREAMING at her.  It isn’t the blood and murder that has her scared the most  (It did a little bit)  but the fact that Klaus yelled at her. She waits for him to explain himself to her in a letter or even send her a gift as a way to distract from the situation at hand but he never does.  Her father that used to laugh with her on the phone does nothing. He abandons her completely and that is when Hope grows a sense of disdain for him comes from.

Hope LOVES him and will always love him.  He is her FATHER but he is also the one that set the bar on the type of people that she finds comfort in. Hope will do everything for her father because she craves his affection and wants him never to leave her again.  Hope also hates him a little bit because of what he did.  She does understand why he had to leave her at seven but at 11 years old,  that was a little much to her. 

At the age of 18,  Hope sees her father again when her mother was kidnapped.  Hope gets to hear the words  “I guess I was always bound to leave you broken.”  which echos in her head even YEARS later.  Klaus protects her from the hollow and does an act that could have been left to Elijah alone.  Hope is left without him once more and this time for what feels like for good. Hope has little bits of memories of the man in person but not enough. Hope wishes that she would have been BETTER for him. There is a lot of things about a father that Hope never got to experience long term. He was never going to help with homework, read books to her, teach her how to paint a landscape, and more. They missed so much time that it is a lot of craving what SHOULD have been when it comes to missing him. It feels as if she failed him in every way so every single day is a fight to prove herself as if he is still there.

Hope is TWENTY-TWO when she Klaus comes back to life and in that time,  Hope is eager to make up for lost time.  She throws herself into showing him things and trying to hear the praise that she wants but even when he does give it the past is still knocking at her heart. She loves him but also recognizes that he was a crappy dad to her in a lot of ways. He had some amazing moments as well. Hope goes back and forth on her feelings of him. Some moments, she LOVES him and other moments,  she HATES him for all the wrong he did to her.  She will do so much for him because she loves him but there are also lines that never will be crossed as well like hurting someone that she loves for him unless that person is a threat to her family.

She fears becoming him just as much as she wants some of his qualities.  Hope never wanted to cause people the amount of destruction that Klaus did and in the end,  she does end up doing wrong that mirrors her father.  She is NOT him though even if sometimes, she will embrace it to the nines  (no humanity her).  Hope doesn’t approve in all the things that he has done even though she is thankful that he did some of what he had done because it led to her existence. How Hope feels about being a COSMIC MISTAKE is another thing.