#this is a happy film that makes space for real life in a very delicate way

[mikimeiko]

Sing Street (John Carney, 2016)

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter One.

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of wtsgd! i’m so excited for you all to read this story and for what’s to come. please please please support content creators bc we’re doing this for free and it takes up a lot of energy to put out stories. so reblog, leave feedback, and send a message to motivate and support them. happy reading everyone <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 6.4k

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March 4, 2017

The trunk was filled with heavy boxes that were labeled with thick black sharpie, which didn’t seem to leave Luciana’s senses; and one too many suitcases filled with her many articles of clothing that she couldn’t get rid of—no matter how hard she tried—since she was too much of a hoarder and every piece of clothing seemed to have a lost memory in them that she tried very hard to think of, which only meant that it was worth keeping. 

A droplet of sweat leaked down the side of her face due to  her nonstop packing and heavy-lifting from her childhood room upstairs to her dad’s car in the driveway. It didn’t help that the sun was beaming down at her with every move like she was on center stage, in front of the spotlight, but it made much more sense for the sun to do that because that’s where she belonged: on stage. 

Moving to Brooklyn, New York from Cambridge, Massachusetts during, what felt like, the coldest but the sunniest day of March wasn’t the smartest move—to be fair, Luciana was never one to make a smart move, anyways—but it was one that needed to be done. Plus, all the lifting seemed to have warmed her up. 

Her destination, or now, home, in New York was one that she’d been anticipating for a while now. She had auditioned for the role as Kim in Miss Saigon on Broadway in November, and she’d gotten a callback in January for the role as the second Kim, meaning she would be on rotation to perform every week or two weeks, so the main Kim could rest. But she would still have to go to rehearsals and be on the side of the stage watching the show just in case she needed to jump in at the last minute. 

It wasn’t her ideal way of playing the main lead, but nonetheless, she was grateful for the opportunity, and she would take any chance that was thrown at her to not only take another step towards her dream, but also another learning opportunity to make her a better actress. 

Little Luci would’ve been so proud of the present Luci because it’d been her dream ever since she was younger, to be on stage and eventually, be on the big screen. Although she was far from completing her dream of being a face in Hollywood, this was a step that would take her to where she wanted to be in the future, and for that, she was proud of herself. 

As a child, Luci had been in various commercials; from being the kid that played with slime and had no lines but to just put on a big smile while the sticky substance ran through her small hands, to being the daughter in a car commercial with one line that said “Are we there yet?” with a groan and a face of exhaustion as if she were the one driving the car. She hoped that these commercials would have someone recognize her talent, to cast her as a Disney star, but that would require moving to California, which her parents were wary of. 

The commercials stopped when she reached middle school. Her early adolescent years consisted of an abundance of attitude and mood swings; Luci was a very tough and determined kid. Her love for acting had grown into a big balloon that was let go and on its way into the galaxy where no one could reach it—where no one could mess with her achieving her dream. 

She would always stand in front of her white wooden framed mirror—with delicately painted colorful flowers around the border—reciting lines that she heard from a television series or the films that she watched, and she would write them down in her blue notebook. Sometimes, her parents would let her search the script up if it was available online. But oftentimes, she would test and challenge her memorization, and listen to it by ear; testing her mind, and eventually, her memorization skills were immaculate by the age of eleven. 

It was perfect timing because by the time she was in middle school, she was able to snatch the roles she wanted when her school’s drama department held school plays. Her family thought that she would start to hate being on stage since school plays always ran until late evening, but being part of the productions had only enhanced her love for her talent, and it only prepared her for a quarter of what her future may look like. 

All in all, from a very young age, she always knew that she wanted to become an actress. The spotlight or the center of the camera was where she always craved to be. 

And she was finally making that dream come true. 

A black Toyota Camry pulled into the space behind the car that was filled with her belongings. Ren and Beatrice, Luci’s lovely parents, both get out of the car with a pink box of donuts—a snack for the road and for when she gets to her new apartment. 

“Ready, Lucky?” Beatrice asked, rubbing her daughter’s back. She was quite bummed to see Luci leave her childhood home, but she’s proud to see Lucky Luci chase her dreams. She was, after all, twenty-five and was bound to move out at some point, but to see it actually happen made Beatrice quite emotional. 

“Ma, please, don’t cry…” Luci frowned as Beatrice pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder, comforting her. “You’re all coming to New York in a month, right? To watch me on stage?” Luci asked, reassuring herself that she would see her family in a different state to rescue her from her loneliness. 

Luci was an independent woman. She could do tasks by herself, go places alone, and she wouldn’t have a problem with it; she enjoyed the company of herself. But to know that at some point she might be alone—that everyone had left her behind or forgotten about her—was what scared her. She needed to know that the people who loved her unconditionally wouldn’t forget about her. 

“Of course we’re going!” Ren exclaimed with a smile that Luci was going to miss seeing everyday. “We can’t miss our baby on the Broadway stage. If we could, we’d go to every damn show that you’re in, but that would be a lot of gas, no?” 

She chuckled, nodding her head. She felt tears pricking her eyes at how supportive her parents were—they’ve always been. If she could, she would take them with her to New York, but her one bedroom apartment and their work said otherwise. 

“Now, Lucky, don’t cry.” It was Beatrice’s turn to comfort her daughter. Like any parent, when they see their child cry, it breaks their heart and they cry too. “We’re gonna see you real soon. You can always come back anytime you want. We’re just a phone call away and we’ll pick you up,” Beatrice said between sniffles. The mother and daughter were embracing so tenderly and comfortingly—enjoying every last moment together until they got to see each other again. 

“Jeez, you’re both the same—always crying!” Ren interrupted, making the two women laugh; and he was glad they found what he said amusing because he couldn’t handle the sad moment. “C’mon here, my Lulu.” Luci settled into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. She’s always been her dad’s girl, despite having a close relationship with her mother, her relationship with her father was something that felt like home; he always knew what to say and when to say it. It helped that she was the female version of him. “You’re gonna be the best star out there, I’m sure of it. Now, I want you to have fun, alright? The fame, the fortune, the big city…it doesn’t amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life” He comfortingly rubbed Luci’s back, holding her in a warm and tight squeeze. 

Luci smiled at her father’s words. She was always a bit hard on herself when she would mess up or forget a line or a movement that correlates to a specific line in her script. When she was younger, she would beat herself up for a sliver of a moment; she would cry into her pillow—sobs loud enough that they were heard from downstairs. Luci would think that she wouldn’t become a well-known actress just because of the minor forgetfulness her mind had presented. But Ren would gently tap on her ocean blue door, letting himself in because he knew his daughter didn’t have the energy to get up and let him in, and he would sit beside her, gently urging her to sit up with him. Once she complied, after many groans of refusals, she would be glad she did because her father looked deeply into her eyes—and it was like looking into the reflection of clear and clean water—and told her she was a star. It was only three words, but those three words reminded her to never give up and get up when she would hit the pavement of what she felt like were her fallen hopes and dreams. 

Ren would then end it with a statement of advice that had always lingered in her mind, resonating to the silent and harshful words that she tells herself. ‘Nothing will amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life.’

A rush of gratitude settled upon her as her eyes became glossier by the seconds she was in Ren’s arms. Beatrice looked at her greatest treasures fondly, a smile appeared on her face only for it to be replaced by a look of confusion. 

“Where is that damn brother of yours? He said he was going to be here at ten!” Beatrice interrupted the sweet moment she was having with her father, making them disconnect from the hug—just as Ren did with Luci and Beatrice.  

Speaking of the devil, her dear brother was making his way towards home on the side of the street, wearing a grey sweatshirt that was stained with his sweat as his earphones were nestled in his ears, loudly playing music. He loudly sang along to some rap song, breath staggered as he rapped along with his hands. 

Nathan smiled once he stepped foot onto the driveway as he took out his earphones, seeing his family look at him vigilantly. Luci laughed, shaking her head. 

“Hey, there’s our superstar, little Ana!” Nathan opened his arms, ready to hug you but she quickly stopped him, curving her spine backwards to deny his hug. Ana had been one of the many nicknames her family had called her when she was growing up from the second half of her name, but Ana seemed to have stuck with Nathan as no one else really called her that, so it was his own personal nickname for her. 

“Ew, please, do not hug me.” Her face wrinkled in disgust from the spell of her brother’s sweat from his run. Nathan chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes before turning towards his parents. 

“Ooh, donuts-”

Beatrice slapped the back of his hand before he even got a chance to open the pink donut box. “Not until you shower and change. Lulu needs to be in Brooklyn by three!” 

“Ow, mother!” Nathan whipped his hand away from Beatrice’s burning slap, although he was just playing around and being dramatic. “But fine, alright. The star always gets what she wants, am I right?” He dropped his head towards Luci, sighing before he hurried inside the house to take a quick shower and change. 

Luci giggled, telling her parents that she would be right back to go up to her room to check if she’d gotten everything, even though she knew that she had everything, she just needed to reminisce alone for a moment. 

Her feet took her up the wooden stairs, where she, for some unknown reason, always spent her time sitting on as she leaned her back against the wall and read or drew. Nathan always found it weird of her when they were doing homework when they were younger, but it was just one of the many fun anecdotes he could tell reporters if he’s asked about their childhood. 

Pushing open her ocean blue door that she never changed because she loved the color, she was met with the emptiness of what was once her sanctuary. Despite the paint on the wall changing, the replacement of furniture, and rearrangement of her childhood room, Luci could still see the baby pink walls where she hung up various posters of her celebrity crushes when she was eight. She could still see herself walking over to her Cinderella white wooden dresser as she pulled out an inflatable microphone from her drawer before she walked over to her bed to sing her heart out with her cousin. In the corner of her room was her mirror that she painted colorful flowers along the border when she was younger, and she definitely did not want to change or get rid of it; it wasn’t difficult to stir up a memory when she was in front of that mirror because up until now, she was always reciting her lines to her own reflection until the late night. 

All of these memories that Luci held within her heart would help her ground herself—remind her where she came from. No matter where her career took her, she would always be the girl that was firstly known in her room, crying, laughing, and acting within the four baby pink walls until she was sixteen, and then it changed to an ecru white. The feeling of nostalgia clutched her chest, and for the second time today—not even noon, yet—she found herself crying. 

She silently sobbed in her sanctuary. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was grasping onto the memories, begging her to not leave, to not move on. But moving on would mean being stuck, and she didn’t want to feel stuck—she just never wanted to be in one place where the walls would slowly feel like they were closing in on her. She didn’t want to be in one place and eventually hated it, so for that, she had to move on. 

A soft knock was heard from the outside of her bedroom, making Luci turn around hastily. She found Beatrice standing in the doorway, warmly smiling at her daughter, and keeping the tears at bay because she needed the comfort of her mother more than her mother’s tears. 

“My Lucky Star…” Beatrice walked into the room, welcoming Luci into her arms. “You okay?” 

Luci deeply inhaled and exhaled as she calmed herself down from her cries. “I’m alright. It’s just hard saying goodbye to this place—to my room.”’

“Oh, Lulu. You don’t need to say goodbye. I know you’ll be coming back here soon, anyways. I know you love home too much to completely stay away.” Beatrice was subtly trying to remind Luci about her love for her hometown, for her home, but her words also were trying to remind her about that certain love for her home and to never forget that love so she doesn’t stray away because Beatrice was simply afraid Luci would never want to come back once she discovered the luxury of her career. And even though she knew her Lulu wasn’t one to forget about her family, Beatrice would never admit her fear. 

Luci sniffled, wiping her tears away as she pulled away from her mother’s embrace. “Yeah, I know. Just…doesn’t feel real that I’m leaving.” 

“Sure, you’re leaving, but you’re going off to do bigger and better things. You were never one to stay in one place, physically and mentally—you were always moving, always loved learning more. And I’ve always been so intrigued and interested in how your mind works.” 

“Ma…” The waterworks seemed to be the highlight of the move. 

“I’m serious! I’m so genuinely proud of you. You’ve been keeping your talent—and I don’t mean ‘high school plays’ talent. I mean your Broadway, Hollywood, Academy winning talent. Now, you get to showcase your light in front of thousands of people.” Beatrice always had a way of boosting Luci’s self-esteem, making her ego a tad bit more bigger than it already was. She didn’t mind if her self-esteem had skyrocketed into the galaxy of her dreams, but she always reminded Luci that being humble and kind always outweighed being obnoxious and arrogant. “Now, enough with these tears. You’ve got a road trip to New York. C’mon, now.” 

They made their way downstairs and out the door where Ren and Nathan were talking about the latest basketball game of the Celtics. The trunk was closed, and the only thing waiting was Luci herself. 

“There she is! Ready?” 

Luci took a deep breath, turning her head to look back at the pastel yellow house that had kept her safe for the past twenty-five years. From here, she knew everything was going to change. Whether it’d be for the good or if things would go downhill from here? She didn’t know; all she knew was that she was going to be doing what she loved and she was going to have the time of her life doing it. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

The state of Connecticut seemed to pass by quickly from the car as Nathan drove at a decent seventy miles per hour; the state vanished just as quickly as when they entered. 

Luci mindlessly looked out the window, thinking about everything and nothing at once as she drowned out the music playing through the speakers of the car and Nathan’s voice singing along. 

The cars passing by, the bystanders, and the locals filled the streets and highways, making her wonder what all of these people’s stories were—wondering if they lived in this city or if they were just stopping by to visit, or if they’re just going through the state to get to the one next door just as she was. Maybe she’s had an encounter or simply passed by them on the street in a world that seemed too large but small at the same time. She always pondered on whether everyone else thought the way she thought—if they wondered what her story was or the people around them. 

The world is an interesting place and there were so many intriguing people out there, making her more excited by the minute as she takes on this new adventure in her life that would be completely life changing. Luci’s going to be meeting so many new people that, she would hope, have an impact on her personal life or career. 

“Nervous?” Nathan broke the comfortable silence between them. 

Luci raised her brows and curled her lips into her mouth. “A bit.” 

He nodded, thinking for a moment. Nathan was always one to think before he spoke, and it was a quality that some people needed to learn how to do. He quickly learned that lesson when he was in high school; one of his friends, Johnny, and him were going back and forth joking around with one another. And for some odd reason, teenage boys liked to joke around about fucking everything, so Nathan had said “Yeah, I fucked your mom, what about it?” without thinking. Johnny stayed silent, the rest of their friends were waiting for his comeback, but they only received tears that glossed over his eyes before he ran off to a different part of campus, away from the lunch tables. Nathan found him behind the orchestra building with his face pressed on his kneecaps, crying. Later, he found out that Johnny’s mother had passed away before their sophomore year started and he hadn’t told anyone, which left Nathan quite speechless, but it was a lesson that he learned: to think before anything comes out of his mouth. 

“I know you’ll do great. You were born to do this, born to be on stage. Everything you do is to greater your experience and opportunities. All the mistakes you’re gonna make, which we both know you’re gonna make, they’re gonna be learning lessons for you to continue doing what you’re good at doing; the mistakes are there so you can better yourself,” he reassured, occasionally glancing at you briefly before averting his eyes back onto the highway. 

Luci smiled, never taking her eyes off her older brother. She leaned closer to the middle console, where his right arm was resting on the padded console. Hugging his arm tightly and resting her cheek on his shoulder, she accepted and appreciated his advice, his words. They made her heart fill up with so much gratitude and love, insanely grateful and happy that she had such an amazing and supportive family who always knew the right things to say when they could sense her nerves and anxieties powering through the roof. 

“You’re gonna kill it out there. This is just a step towards where you wanna go, where you actually wanna be.” 

She nodded, looking to her right as they quickly passed the ‘Welcome to New York’ sign from the state line of Connecticut and New York, and it was the sign indicating her new home. 

Nathan pulled into the apartment’s parking garage, entering in with the code that the complex gave Luci on the silver keypad as the two watched the automatic gate arm swing up to the side, and Nathan entered the parking structure, parking in one of the many spaces available. 

Luci excitedly got out of the car, rushing to the trunk where Nathan had opened it from inside the car. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to bring the hand dolly to help carry the boxes, which meant that the siblings were going to have to carry the many boxes she packed by her own hand and strength. But luckily, some of them weren’t that heavy; most of the items in the brown boxes were kitchenware and she figured she could just drag those. 

One by one, they took one box each and headed for the elevator, where it took them to her apartment floor—floor four. Luci grabbed the keys from her purse that contained two copper keys hanging on one single silver loop and a small keyless sensor, and she unlocked her navy blue door, revealing her new apartment. 

When she entered, she was met with a door across the entrance that she would use for her coats and shoes, things that she would need when she’s rushing out the door. Going through the small hallway in from the entrance, it led her to another small hallway to her left where her bedroom and guest bathroom was; and to her right, it would take her to the kitchen and living space. With four big windows with black window frames, the natural light really came in, making her place brighter for saving electricity. 

Walking in and putting the boxes against the black cabinets in the kitchen, she immediately fell in love with the space, her space. Despite already taking a tour of the apartment a few months prior to her official move in day, it felt different being there for the second time because she now knew that this place was hers. She saw it in a different light, and she was already anticipating the memories she was going to make in her new home. The place was empty; and with every step and every noise from her mouth, the room would echo, and she loved it. There was something satisfying about the echo in an empty space that was hers, like she wanted to furnish the hell out of it, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the echo. 

“This is your new home.” Nathan put an arm around Luci’s shoulder. He got a bit emotional seeing his baby sister grow up and move away from home, but he was excited for all of the experiences and memories she was going to make. Luci looked up at him, not saying anything but smiling as she was speechless. Nathan could practically feel the excitement run through her and all he did was chuckle at her speechlessness. “C’mon, let’s go get the rest of the boxes.” 

For the next fifteen minutes, Luci and Nathan hauled the boxes from the car, to the elevator, and down the hallway to her apartment. There were about four more boxes left in the trunk, and they would’ve been finished by now if they hadn’t been taking breaks. 

Nathan’s phone rang as he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets of the kitchen across from Luci who was sitting in the corner where her dining table would be. 

“Hello?” Answered Nathan. “What? Tonight? I’m in New York. I’m helping my little sister move here. Uh, okay. Sure. Bye.” He groaned, standing up. 

“Who was that?” Luci asked, nosy as she was. 

“That was one of the board members at Mass General Hospital.” Luci’s eyes widened. “They just asked me if I could come in tonight to teach and supervise the new residents.” Nathan was a general doctor working in the Emergency Room as Mass General back in Boston. He’s always wanted to teach with all the knowledge he’s stored in his brain—always wanting someone to learn a thing or two when they spoke to him, and this was his chance. 

“Holy shit, that’s amazing, Nate!” Luci stood up, excited for him.

He started to breathe a bit heavily and Luci immediately took notice; she could practically feel the nerves coming out of him, the same nerves she felt while going in for an audition. “Yeah, I actually have to leave, like, right now.” 

“Hey, hey.” She quickly stopped him from running out of the building and out of his mind. “Come here—breathe with me for a second.” She held onto his wrists gently. 

“Luci, I have to-”

He pulled away, but she tugged him back. “You’re going to drive yourself through the highway, and who knows what will happen, you might get pulled over and you won’t make it to the hospital. So, just take sixty seconds to breathe with me.” 

For the remainder of the time that they had together, they took some deep breaths. She spoke encouraging and uplifting words to him to calm down his nerves and anxieties that he seemed to drive himself over a cliff for, and it seemed to work as Nathan’s shoulder’s weren’t so tense and the grip on her hands had loosened. 

The two of them walked down to the parking garage where Nathan took down the last four boxes and placed them by the entrance of the complex. He was adamant on helping her get the last few boxes up to her apartment, but she shrugged it off, telling him that she was able to carry them and that he needed to leave because he’s most likely going to hit traffic during rush hour. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it. I will drive here in a heartbeat.” 

“I will, I will-”

“Just not tonight,” he joked. “This is the highlight of my career.” His smile was so bright that it was like he was a little kid on Christmas again who just received a Hot Speed set from Santa. 

Luci laughed, hugging him goodbye. “And call me if you need anything too. I’ll miss seeing you everyday,” she admitted, a slight frown on her face. She thought she’d have the entire day with Nathan, but it was cut short due to his work but she wasn’t mad about that at all because she knew there'd be plenty of times when he would drive down to walk along the New York streets and see her perform. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Ana. But I love you and I’ll see you next month!” He hurried into his car, and Luci watched him as he pulled out of the driveway, waving at the rear view mirror to say one last ‘see you later’ to his little sister. 

Walking back to the curb where all of the boxes were set, Luci picked one up to test how heavy it was and she barely made it upright without almost hurting her back, so she put the box down to take a proper breather. She decided to drag the box closer to the door of the complex—which saved her a few steps without completely dropping the box that was labeled ‘glass plates’—and pulled the handle of the door, only to find it completely locked. There was a slight panic that flew through her until she realized that she needed her keyless tag that she had to press against the pad on the wall to get inside the complex, so she blew out a sigh of relief before reaching down to her pocket for her key, and with just her luck, her keys weren’t in her pocket or with her at all. Then she started to panic again. 

Luci quickly walked out of the parking garage and to the front of the building where the leasing office was to find them closed, which was odd because it was Saturday, but apparently their servers were down so they just decided to take the entire day off. She rolled her eyes annoyingly, walking back to the garage in a fast manner because she didn’t want anyone to take her boxes, and so she figured that she could just wait until someone left the complex or arrived. She even left her phone at her place, so it wasn’t like she could call anyone to help her, but some sort of entertainment would help the time go by quicker. 

Sitting on the curb in the garage, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, and humming the melody from the Miss Saigon soundtrack, an hour goes by until she sees someone walk past the automatic gate barrier, heading towards the entrance where he opened the door with his tag. Luci sprinted towards the door, calling out for help. 

“Wait, wait!” The man turned around confusingly, taking his AirPod out of one ear. She caught up, taking deep breaths as she waved at the man. “Sorry, I’ve been out here for an hour and I completely forgot my key.” He didn’t say anything but stared at her, wondering why he’s never seen this woman before. The apartment complex really only had four floors, and he’s sure that he’s seen everyone who’s lived here. She noticed that he looked down at the boxes and back at her. “Oh, I just moved in.” He nodded more understandingly. “Do you mind holding the door for me?” 

“Sure.” Was the first thing he told her before stepping aside to hold the door. She took another deep breath, getting into the correct form so she doesn’t throw her back out, and began to lift the heavy box. He noticed her struggling, and he felt foolish for not offering his help in the first place when he noticed the four boxes on the cement. “Here, sorry, let me help with that. Get the door, yeah?” Luci’s heart flipped once she heard his deep, accented voice before she gratefully thanked him and he grabbed the box from her, replacing her hands with his and the slightest brush of their fingers made her flustered; he held the box tightly to his chest without much struggle. 

“Yeah, let me just get this one.” Luci grabbed a much lighter box that had all of her shoes, and held the door for him with her foot as he made his way inside of the building and to the elevator. He pressed the button with the arrow pointing up, and luckily, they didn’t have to wait for more than five seconds before the bell at the top chimed and the stainless steel doors opened. 

With the heavy box in his hands, he still let Luci walk in first, which made her smile and he followed in as she pressed with the bold ‘4’ printed on it. He held the box in between his chest and the other end of the bar on the wall as they waited in silence as the elevator lifted them up to her apartment floor, and she brushed past him when he lifted his arm, gesturing her to go first. 

Her front door was closed but it was unlocked, which only made sense, so she opened her door, putting the box next to the entrance and politely asking the man to put it next to the one you put down. 

“Thank you so much, really. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.” 

“It’s no problem. I was the same when I moved here too—forgot my keys and was locked out.” He related to make her feel lighter about the situation since it was an honest mishap. 

“Did you go to the leasing office?” She asked curiously. 

“Yeah, but they were closed.” 

“They’re closed today too! It’s like they do that on purpose whenever someone new moves in.” The man chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

She hadn’t gotten a proper look at him since she was too distracted by trying to get into her building, but just by one real look at him, he was very attractive—probably too attractive to where she couldn’t think straight. He was wearing a pastel yellow and white striped button down that was a bit flowy and open, showing his white tank underneath that was tucked into his black skinny jeans. His tank top was low enough, exposing a patch of chest hair and his necklace that rested against his skin, in between his swallow tattoos just below his collarbones. Rings hugged his long fingers on both hands as he held two brown paper bags from Trader Joes. He was handsome, that’s for sure, and she felt like she was going to compare his beauty to all the other men that she was going to encounter in the future. 

“They’re not very good at going into work, but if you give them a call then it’s like they’re a 24/7 help center.” 

Luci nodded, chuckling. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I’ll help you with the last boxes.” Before she was about to protest and tell him that he didn’t have to help her anymore because she was sure the last ones were light, he made his way towards the elevator and she quickly followed. 

To her surprise, one of the boxes was heavier than the other and she was glad that the man was able to carry it for her. They took the boxes up to her apartment, stacking it on top of the ones that were set down before she thanked him gratefully again. 

“I really appreciate all your help.” She smiled, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Not that I’m doubting your strength or anything, but how were you supposed to get those boxes up to your apartment?” He asked softly, not wanting to offend her by his words. 

“Oh, my brother was supposed to help me, but he had to go back home for an emergency at work.” The man nodded, seeming that was the most acceptable answer, not like he was searching if she was lying. “But thank you for your help. You’re a true lifesaver,” she said with a soft smile on her face. Her tone was a bit flirty than she wanted it to be, but it naturally came out. 

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you around.” Luci hadn’t closed her door yet, but she found out that he was literally her neighbor on the opposite side of the wall. He didn’t even have to take two steps to get to his place—all he had to do was turn around and he was home. She smiled at the thought of that, glad that her neighbor was already so kind to her. 

As he was fumbling with his keys, he eventually got his door unlocked, and Luci was itching to ask what his name was—maybe make her first friend during her first day living in the big city. The man felt his neighbor's eyes on him, burning through the back of his head, so he turned around at the same time she spoke. 

“Uh, hey,” Luci called out. He was looking over his shoulder, pursing his lips as he raised his brows. “I was wondering if…you’d like to have dinner with me tonight? Y’know, to thank you for all your help and practically saving me while I was stranded.” She chuckled, playing with the tips of her fingers as she looked at him with hope. 

He thought the invitation was nice, but…“It’s okay, really. I, uh, have plans already tonight,” he admitted honestly because he doesn’t make a habit of being dishonest. 

Luci had some thick skin—she grew it throughout the years, and she had always been pretty confident. So many people would think that she could handle rejection well because she’s auditioned for many roles in her lifetime, and had been rejected for most of those roles. But the rejection that her neighbor handed to her so respectfully and politely was one that hit her the most, and she didn't know why. 

Curling her lips into her mouth as she felt the pang of her heart sinking into her chest, she nodded and placed a small smile onto her face. 

“Have fun tonight, then. I’ll see you around.” She grinned, hiding the slight bit of pain that she felt. He nodded, walking inside his apartment as she was in her doorway as well. “Oh, I’m Luci, by the way.” She introduced herself, feeling like she should have done that ten minutes ago, but it had slipped her mind. 

The corner of the man’s mouth turned up into a sly smirk, and she nearly felt herself fall as she gripped the door handle tightly. It was enough to make the pain in her chest disappear, and all thoughts of the rejection that she would think about for the rest of the night vanished. 

“Nice to meet you, Luci. I’m Harry.” 

With that, Harry closed his door, putting a barrier between him and Luci, who was still standing in her doorway. She let out the longest sigh of her life, feeling like she’d been constricting herself from breathing properly for the last ten minutes. 

Luci closed her door and leaned against it, looking down at the boxes that were resting by her feet. She softly smiled, her cheeks were starting to get warm, and she was fully aware that Harry was the cause of it.

come talk to me about your thoughts and feelings! hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, thank you for reading <3 

ty to @sunflowers-styles​ for beta reading!

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift: Pop Star of the Year

By: Jonathan Dean for The Sunday Times Date: December 27th 2020

Rather than hunker down, the singer put out two albums in 2020 and won over new audiences. She’s the pop star of the year.

Taylor Swift met Paul McCartney in the autumn for a big interview in Rolling Stone. The two would have headlined Glastonbury this summer. Who knows if they will do that next year. Anyway, both recorded albums in lockdown, working from home like the rest of us. When they spoke, though, Swift had a secret. As well as Folklore, released in July, she had a follow-up record in the pipeline — Evermore, which was released this month.

Swift noted that the former Beatle was still so full of joy. “Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?” he said. “We’re really lucky,” Swift replied. “I can’t believe it’s my job.” And she is right. Being a pop star is an extraordinary way to earn the living she does. But rather than accepting luxury and letting this tough year tumble on, Swift is also keenly aware what music means. Sad songs soothe, happy songs make us dance, but as fans of most artists waited for something — anything — this year, this 31-year-old released two albums that broke chart records, were critically adored and introduced her to people who once thought that she wasn’t for them.

“I’m so exhausted!” she said to the American chat show host Jimmy Kimmel, laughing, a few weeks ago, when asked if she had a third new album planned. “I have nothing left.” In addition to Folklore and Evermore, she filmed a TV special and even started rerecording her back catalogue, after a volatile dispute over who owns her work. By October I’d just about cobbled together my first sourdough loaf.

A decade ago Swift moved firmly into the limelight thanks to a squabble with Kanye West entirely of the rapper’s own making. In 2009, when Swift — then a nascent country music star — won the best female video award at the VMAs, West stormed on stage, grabbed her microphone and said that Beyoncé should have won. Swift was 19 — West was 32 — and she looked scared. This wasn’t just about her biggest moment yet being stolen, but also about her position in the pop hierarchy being questioned, very publicly, from the off. She stood there as that man bullied her. Apparently she left the stage in tears.

Years later West released Famous, with its infamous lyric “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex/ Why? I made that bitch famous.” The alt-folk singer Father John Misty also wrote about sleeping with her. Every time that sort of thing happened, a powerful man in Swift’s industry was reducing a successful, talented, younger female to the level of a sex object. It was back-in-your-box belittling — as it was when a TV host groped her. (She successfully sued him.) While Swift herself would retort to West, as her music became less country, more slick pop, such retorts felt forced and gave the rapper too much of her oxygen. A nod to him on Folklore comes with the “Clowns to the West” line, but it is a sideshow now, not a headline.

Not that Swift’s life is entirely her own. She’s been one of the world’s bestselling female artists for a decade, coupled with curiosities such as a well-orchestrated relationship with Tom Hiddleston that kept her in the spotlight. Like many twentysomethings, Swift spent her youth apolitically, only to receive flak for staying silent during the 2016 US election. This year she endorsed Joe Biden, but what if she had wanted to stay quiet? Would the media have let her? She is under so much scrutiny that, after she made an innocuous hand gesture in a recent TV interview, similar to one women make to draw attention to domestic abuse, this headline ran: “Some people think Taylor Swift is secretly asking for help in her latest interview.”

Like many at the start of the pandemic she felt listless. The world we were used to was a wasteland, and we could only find the energy to watch Normal People. Swift’s ennui, though, was, well, swift. Stuck in LA, she emailed Aaron Dessner of the beloved beardy indie band the National to see if he fancied writing with her. No fool, Dessner said yes and, mere weeks later, the duo — with help from Swift’s regular collaborator Jack Antonoff as well as Justin Vernon, from the beloved beardy indie band Bon Iver — released Folklore. The gang just carried on working and, five months later, gave us Evermore.

Creativity is not on tap. Indeed, this year is not one for judging what others may or not have achieved. However, the silence of many big pop stars is striking because they know that even a single would make someone’s day; distract for a while.

Everyone needed to adjust to working from home, but Swift was one of the only musicians who did and, by eschewing the arena pop of recent albums for something more subdued, organic and folky, she gave the sense that she was letting fans in more than ever. She was at home, like us. This is who she is, and the first single from these sessions was so cosy, it was even called Cardigan.

“I just thought, ‘There are no rules any more,’” she told McCartney. “Because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, ‘How will this song sound in a stadium?’ If you take away the parameters, what do you make? I guess Folklore.”

Maybe it is tedious, for a deft writer with a career of varied, brilliant songs — Love Story, I Knew You Were Trouble, Blank Space — to find respect from some people only when artists who appeal to middle-aged men start to work with her. On the other hand, pop has never been particularly welcoming to many until it sounds like something you are used to and, with delicate acoustics and gossamer-like piano, Swift’s two new albums recall, sonically, Nick Drake or Kate Bush. Thematically, lyrics seem to come from anywhere. Daphne du Maurier, for one. Even the Lake District and its poets.

Some songs are personal. She is dating British actor Joe Alwyn, and on one track she sings, “I want to give you a child.” Make of that what you will. But these records’ highlights are not about herself, but others. “There was a point,” she told Zane Lowe on Apple Music, “that I had got to as a writer, [where I was only writing] diaristic songs. That felt unsustainable.” Instead, she does what the best writers do and mixes subjective with objective. The Last American Dynasty is a terrific piece of writing about the socialite Rebekah Harkness, who lived in a Rhode Island house that Swift bought and was, by all accounts, a bit scandalous. Swift tells her story almost with envy. Imagine, she seems to say, that freedom.

“In my anxieties,” she said in Rolling Stone, “I can often control how I am as a person and how normal I act. But I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and if they follow our car and interrupt our lives.”

Then there is Epiphany. The first verse is about her grandfather, who fought in the Second World War; the second about frontline workers in hospitals now. Sung in a high register, it is suitably choral. Marjorie, on Evermore, is even better. It is about her grandmother, an opera singer who died in 2003. “What died didn’t stay dead” is the repeated line, and it is eerie, gorgeous. Swift sings how she thinks Marjorie is singing to her, at which point some vocals from the latter’s recordings waft in. Touching, but the real power is in Swift writing about vague memories of a relative who died when she was young. “I complained the whole way there,” she sings. “I should’ve asked you questions.”

In person she is warm like this, and funny. When Kimmel told her there were far more swearwords on Folklore and Evermore than previous records, she replied: “It’s just been that kind of year.” She is also odder than people realise. In the way pop stars should be. Obsessed by numerology, she wrote, on the eve of her birthday when announcing Evermore: “Ever since I was 13, I’ve been excited about turning 31 because it’s my lucky number backwards.” When I turned 31 I just wished to be 13 again, with all that youth, but then, maybe, she is just joking. “Yes, so until I turn 113 or 131, this will be the highlight of my life,” she said. “The numerology thing? I sort of force it to happen.”

Swift, of course, is far from the first pop star to become public property, or have a close bond with fans. This year, however, she was one of the few to show that such adoration is not one-way. She is, simply, a fan of her fans — from planting secrets in her artwork and lyrics, to recording two albums of new music as a balm for them when real life became too deafening.

“One good thing about music,” sang Bob Marley. “When it hits you, you feel no pain.” The 80.6 million who streamed Folklore on its first day will attest to that idea. So will the four million who bought it. Swift is pop star of the year, no doubt — leaving her peers in her wake, on their sofas, rewatching The Sopranos.

[pinkypromiseplaylists]

playlist masterpost to pass the time :)

a dip in my daydream - dreamy songs for when you can’t go to sleep but you don’t want the night to end and you feel like you’re floating so you lay on your bed and the ceiling starts to spin 

a is for angst - very very very angsty songs

and i love ya baby - emo pop punk stuff ??

and the livins easy - were your parents grungy teens in the 90s ? then this playlist is for you and your nostalgia

angry girls club - songs for girls with anger issues that need to scream and kick stuff sometimes

a quarter for the jukebox - songs for your slow dance in a 50s themed diner

aurora borealis - songs for when you’re sad but you’re a highway away from home and you know you won’t make it through the drive without crying but all you can think about is getting home to the safety of your room

baby blue - blue bedroom pop

blueberry eyes - meadow music for cherry pies and picnics with your friends

breezy - songs for warm summer road trips with the windows down

buzzcuts season - songs for post apocalyptic teens

carpet burn - songs that remind of amy winehouse’s eyeliner

coffee brown curls - songs for your 2 am slow dancing in the kitchen moment

crystalline - songs that remind of the rainbow of colors that come out of a crystal when the sun shines through it just right

delicate - paper-thin songs that sound as fragile and as gentle as moth wings

dont be shy - big and loud songs to be big and loud to 

earth girls are easy - space songs that would play in a diner on mars

eyes like rain - absolutely heart wrenching songs that can floor me and have me crying in 15 seconds

floating down the street - songs for when the sun is setting and you feel like floating down the road like a leaf in a stream

happy frog emoji - happy songs with happy vibes and happy feelings

i might be dreaming - dreamy songs that make me feel like im in a fairy tale where nothing can go wrong

IMPOSTERSYNDROME - emo teen vibes but aged like a fin wine

just tryna play it cool - songs that remind me of casey and izzie’s dance scene in atypical

koala corsage - songs for the 80s prom we all wish we had

krovvy - songs that would play in my murder montage if i was in american psycho instead of christian bale. alternatively, songs that would play if i was the main character getting killed in the season finale

language of averted eyes - songs that sound like sad boys crying

lava lamps - bedroom pop to dance around to knowing no one is watching

liability - songs for your indie coming of age film full of parking lot shopping carts, sneaking out, and having fun

loser girls - Cool Girl music that makes me feel fucking lame and wish my life was more exciting

love, theoretically - these love songs make love sound so so so so so nice , in theory

lovers as sad as you - songs for the sad slow dance

midnight low - songs for the neutral night drive

midnight mania - high energy songs for your manic night drive

my angel baby - love songs about adoration and lovely things

original sin - songs that have no business being so hot ! like wow the vocals are ungodly

pink bubblegum - songs for going to the fair with your high school crush and getting icecream and fries after school

pretty are the simple few - songs for happy dances in the kitchen at 2 in the morning. maybe with your cat or dog or maybe with the love of your life or maybe with your best friend

reeling through the midnight streets - songs for your night time commute when time doesn’t feel real and the taillights of passing cars are all blurring together and the oncoming cars blind you a little bit

sanctuary - songs that remind me of old churches and staues of angels covered in moss and ivy and graveyards at night

shes a mani(a)c - manic songs for manic girls

slow dance to rock music - songs to slow dance to with your edgy rock n roll babe

slow dancing with ghosts - songs that remind me of that scene in the haunting of hill house where nelly thinks shes dancing with her husband but really hes dead and the house is just haunted and its all in her head

spiral staircases and winding halls - classical songs for studying and pretenting that you’re a regency era scholar studying in a library centuries older than you

summer lovin - soundtrack to your summer fling

swimming pools of sadness - sad songs for being sad

the codeine scene - songs that make me feel like a chain smoker even though the closest i get to breathing in smoke is smudging my room every now and then

theres comfort - songs that give me the same enveloping feeling of comfort as sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool at night when the only light around is coming from the underwater lamps

the weight of something - songs for when you look out of the window in your room and everything is illuminated by the moonlight and you know theres billions of people in the worlds but this moment feels so uniquely yours and theres this huge weight on your chest because the universe is so big and your whole life is in the palm of your hands and you can do anything you want but its 2 am and all you really wanna do is go back to sleep

we could be heroes - songs that make me feel infinite and evoke the same feeling as the tunnel scene in the perks of being a wallflower

we felt the rush - songs that are hot hot hot

where the moonlight lit your face - songs for looking out of the window in your room and admiring how everything looks under the moonlight

[yehet-about-it]

I Like Me Better | 23 - Bear Hugs

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiao Jun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

~ Updates now every Monday, Wednesday & Friday @ 9pm GMT/3pm CST

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Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter Warnings: A whole lot of fluff and a lil bit of smut towards the end... Sorry if you were expecting more smut but I legit cannot bring myself to write it for our smol boy 👀😅

Your shoulders ached as you shuffled into your living room having showered and made yourself just about presentable, compared to the sweaty state you were in earlier. You and some of your colleagues had been recruited for a stage at the Asia Song Festival this year and were now spending at least 8 hours a day in the studio practicing, hence why you felt like all the energy had been sucked from your body. Not that you could complain because it was a great opporunity, but 8 plus hours certainly took it out of you. What you really needed was cuddles, but since Yangyang wasn’t the huggy type and was out walking bella, and Kun was most likely still at work, for now you’d have to suffice with your oversized teddy.

You sigh as you waddle through the empty room, flopping down onto your imaginitively named Mr. Gom in the corner, wondering when Xiaojun would be here with your coffee, and just like magic, as soon as the thought pops into your head, the front door clicks and the man himself emerges from your hallway calling out to you.

“Y/n?” he calls, making his way into your living room, not having seen you tucked away in the corner, squished beneath your teddy bear’s oversized paw. “Here!” you call out, struggling to even lift your head, let alone stand up to greet him. Xiaojun’s face breaks out into a grin as he realises where the voice is coming from, his internal dialogue squealing over how incredibly endearing you look clinging onto the teddy in the corner.

“You okay down there?” he says with a tone of amusement, striding up to you, two cups of coffee in hand. You whine in response, indicating you are very much not okay and still laughing, Xiaojun sets the two coffees down on the table, taking his phone out and clicking a photo of you as you cuddle into your bear.

Hearing his phone camera click, you whip your head around, looking up at him with a pout. “Hey!” you whine, scowling at him with contempt, but seeing you curled up looking tiny next to the huge teddy bear Xiaojun can’t find it in him to put on a straight face and shrugs. “Heh, sorry, you looked kind of cute though.” Xiaojun chuckles, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Here.”

Xiaojun picks one of the coffees up off of the table and hands it to you. “You, xiaojun, are a life saver,” you utter, perking up a little as you graciously accept the warm creamy beverage from him, inhaling deeply as the rich scent of fresh coffee wafts up from your cup. Thank god you only live a five minute walk from Starbucks. “Oh you know, some do say I’m a bit of a hero,” he jokes, shrugging before picking up his own coffee from the table to sip on.

Crossing your legs, you rock yourself forward so you can stand up, being careful not to spill any of your coffee and wander over to sit on the couch. “So you were at Hendery’s?” You ask casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, we were working out this evening, which is why I’m all sweaty, so I’m gonna go take a shower, but we can hang out after if you like?” Xiaojun asks, downing the remnants of his coffee which he’d of course drank the majority of on his walk back. “Sure, thanks for the coffee!” You reply, smiling despite being a little disappointed that he wasn’t staying. “No problem, see you in a bit”.

Xiaojun turns, seeing himself out of your apartment, leaving you to sip on your latte alone. You weren’t usually that desparate for company, quite happy by yourself unlike Yangyang, but you’d had a long day and you were growing to realise that Xiaojun was someone you wanted to be around at times like this, so as the door clicks behind him, you can’t help but feel a little sad, half wishing he would just come back and sit in a cuddle pile with you and Mr. Gom.

You sit alone with your thoughts for a while, wondering when the hell Yangyang would be back from walking Bella until your phone lights up with an instagram notification. Opening it, you look in dismay as you realise that Xiaojun has posted the picture of you slumped against Mr.Gom. After scowling at it for a while though, you decide that in fact it’ really sort of cute. After all, there he was, a stubborn and supposed ‘tough guy’ posting a picture of you looking all tiny, slumped against a giant ass bear, which by definition was pretty damn adorable.

You giggle as the comments roll in from Xiaojun’s friends, mentally facepalming when Yangyang decides to bring up your morning routine of flopping down on the bear and refusing to move for ten minutes. A blush rises across your cheeks though as you receive a message from Xiaojun. You hadn’t quite been expecting that, but right now you’d give your right arm to be curled up next to him. Despite your best efforts, you smile as you read Xiaojun’s invitation for you to go upstairs, leaping to your feet as quickly as possible given your aching muscles and go to grab your sliders to flip flop up the stairs in.

As soon as you get upstairs you knock tentatively on the door before pushing it open and calling out to Xiaojun. You’d been in his apartment a couple times before now, so instead of waiting for him to answer you find your way into the aparment and straight to the living room where Xiaojun is sat waiting on his sofa, scrolling through netflix on the tv. His soft dark brown locks unstyled and messy, still a little damp from the shower and you have a struggle to control your thirst as he turns to peer at you, highlighting his surprisingly elegant side profile. “Hey,” he regards, as you shuffle towards him. “Come sit.” Xiaojun pats the space next to him continuing to scroll through what netflix has to offer and you go to join him, opting to sit close to him but not so close that you’re touching. You don’t want to come off too needy.

“Still tired?” he aks as you settle into the cushions. “Mhm.” You hum in response, showing a weary smile, but trying your best not too seem like you’re too tired to be there. Despite your apparent need for sleep, you’d rather cuddle up in front of a film with him than sit in your empty apartment scrolling through the same old crap on your phone until you passed out. “You want to just put a film on and chill then? I have a blanket” Xiaojun says, nodding towards a fuzzy grey throw draped across the end of the couch. “That sounds perfect right now” you sigh, your fingers nervously pulling at the hem of your top. “What do you want to watch?”

After a minute or so of debating what to watch, you settle on one of the marvel films, and whilst Xiaojun fiddles with the remote, adjusting the volume, you set about getting the blanket off the end so you can snuggle up for the film. As you throw the blanket over you, Xiaojun shifts back a little to put his arm around you and you snuggle against his chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world, which comes as a bit of a surprise, considering you’d never really done this with Xiaojun before. However, happiness bubbles up in your chest as you sink into his warmth and begin to relax, curling up comfily in Xiaojun’s arms. “Mm you smell nice” you hum, noticing the fresh citrussy scent, on him, presumably from his shower. Nestling your cheek into Xiaojun’s collar he chuckles, the vibrations reverberating through his chest. “A lot better than earlier for sure”.

The film is one you’ve both seen before, so although you were quiet to start with, eventually you begin talking and by now you’re no longer really paying much attention to the screen.

Whilst you babble on about this or that, you begin to feel Xiaojun’s thumb absent-mindedly stroking up and down your waist where your top had ridden up, the sensation of it delicately brushing against your cool skin sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. The action, whilst it slowly began to set your body alight also seemed to have the effect of relieving a good part of the tension that had built up in your muscles over the course of the day and you start melting even further into Xiaojun, feeling a sense of bliss wash over you. Xiaojun picks up on this, and his ministrations become more deliberate, now using his whole hand to caress your waist, the tips of his fingers dipping ever so slightly into your waistband, but not invasively.

At this point you’d finished whatever you’d had to say and were now just revelling in the warm feeling of being curled up against Xiaojun, the only sound to be heard the voices of captain america and presumably some other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the background.

Shifting your head to look up at Xiaojun, you find him looking not at the screen but straight back down at you, your faces just mere inches apart and whatever you had been thinking of saying completely vanished from your mid as Xiaojun’s head bobs down, pressing a light kiss to your lips. You smile against him as he pulls away, just barely leaving an inch between you. He seems to be hesitating for a moment, not entirely sure whether it’s okay to continue, but you can’t help but want more, so you angle yourself round a little, placing your free hand at the bottom of his neck, squeezing encouragingly and bring your lips back to his. Xiaojun, all too happy to return the kiss, quickly finds a rhythm, not fast, but slow and sensual, the exact kind of kiss you need in your tired hazy state.

As the kiss deepens, Xiaojun pushes you back slightly so you’re tucked into the corner of the couch beneath him, your legs draped over his and his hand, that until now had been resting innocently just above your knee, starts to softly knead at your flesh through your leggings, moving ever so slightly higher sending small jolts through your nerves to your core. “This is okay right?” He whispers, drawing away momentarily, and looking down at you with concern, his big chocolatey eyes baring into yours. You nod quickly, surrendering yourself to Xiaojun’s touch and letting out a small whine when he resumes, planting small, sensuous kisses up your jawline.

Soon the fingers that had been gently brushing across the skin of your waist begin to venture slowly down over your panties, getting further until they reach between your legs and you moan lightly, involuntarily arching your back into Xiaojun’s touch. This really hadn’t been where you were envisioning this night going, expecting just a wholesome evening of cuddles, since you and Xiaojun’s relationship wasn’t really at that stage yet, but honestly, you didn’t mind all that much.

You let out a gasp, gripping at the nape of his neck as Xiaojun suddenly pushes your panties aside, drawing one of his fingers through your slick testing to see if you might be ready for more. Finding that you’re plenty wet enough, the same finger swirls around your bud a few times before it’s removed completely. “Can I take these off?” He says huskily, fingering the waistband of your leggings and panties.

You almost nod, wanting to give into the desire bubbling up in your core, but you hesitate, wondering that perhaps you weren’t ready to take things that far just yet. Sure, you were getting a lot closer with Xiaojun by now, but you’d still only been on the one date and you were still trying to figure out exactly what you really wanted from this relationship. You weren't sure you wanted to cross that threshold until you were absolutely certain about it.

Sensing your hesitation, Xiaojun draws away slightly, respectfully allowing you space to breathe as you make up your mind. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I don’t want to rush you.” He whispers, continuing to rub soothing circles into your skin just above your pants. “I’m sorry,” you murmur back, having come to a conclusion. “Can we maybe just make out?”

Your bashful request makes Xiaojun giggle as you wear a sheepish expression, a teeny bit embarrassed you’d let it go so far only to cop out on him right when things were starting to get a bit steamy. But Xiaojun smiles back at you, running a hand through his hair as he sits up, taking his weight off you. “If that’s what you want, sorry if I got a bit ahead of myself” he admits.

Gently taking your hand, Xiaojun helps you sit up, before sliding you to sit on his lap facing him. Perhaps not the best position for seeing the tv screen, but by now the film was all but forgotten about, and it was the best position for making out in. “Sorry,” you reiterate, settling on his lap with your hands placed against his chest, taking note of the apparent abs that seemed to lie under his shirt. “It’s not you or anything, I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”

You speak softly wanting to reassure him he didn’t do anything wrong, looking down at him with adoring eyes, the lust you had felt momentarily starting to dissipate into affection. “That’s okay,” he replies, giving you a playful peck on the lips.

You respond in kind, flashing him a happy smile before choosing that moment to resume making out, your lips gently moving against his as his arms wrap around your waist in a bear-like hug holding you safely against him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body taking over as you relish in Xiaojun’s sweet embrace, feeling all your uneasiness and soreness from the day dissolving away, and xiaojun hums against your lips, apparently feeling the same.

“Hmm, perfect.”

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[elizabethanism]

This piece was originally written for the Asahi Shinbun newspaper, and published in the evening edition, on 13 May, 1977. It was reproduced, with the addition of the photo of Kurosawa and Tarkovsky in Solaris pamphlet. It was also published in Nihonkai Eigasha, June 1978. It was again published in Image Forum No. 80, March special issue, 1987, under a different title: Solaris: A Nostalgy toward Nature on Great Earth. Finally, the article appeared in The Complete Akira Kurosawa, Vol 6, Iwanami Shoten Publishers, Tokyo, 1988, with the original title, Tarkovsky and Solaris. The article was translated for Nostalghia.com by their Japan correspondent Sato Kimitoshi.

"Tarkovsky and Solaris" by Akira Kurosawa

I met Tarkovsky for the first time when I attended my welcome luncheon at the Mosfilm during my first visit to Soviet Russia. He was small, thin, looked a little frail, and at the same time exceptionally intelligent, and unusually shrewd and sensitive. I thought he somehow resembled Toru Takemitsu, but I don’t know why. Then he excused himself saying, “I still have work to do,” and disappeared, and after a while I heard such a big explosion as to make all the glass windows of the dining hall tremble hard. Seeing me taken aback, the boss of the Mosfilm said with a meaningful smile: “You know another world war does not break out. Tarkovsky just launched a rocket. This work with Tarkovsky, however, has proved a Great War for me.” That was the way I knew Tarkovsky was shooting Solaris.

After the luncheon party, I visited his set for Solaris. There it was. I saw a burnt down rocket was there at the corner of the space station set. I am sorry I forgot to ask him as to how he had shot the launching of the rocket on the set. The set of the satellite base was beautifully made at a huge cost, for it was all made up of thick duralumin.

It glittered in its cold metallic silver light, and I found light rays of red, or blue or green delicately winking or waving from electric light bulbs buried in the gagues on the equipment lined up in there. And above on the ceiling of the corridor ran two duralumin rails from which hanged a small wheel of a camera which could move around freely inside the satellite base.

Tarkovsky guided me around the set, explaining to me as cheerfully as a young boy who is given a golden opportunity to show someone his favorite toybox. Bondarchuk, who came with me, asked him about the cost of the set, and left his eyes wide open when Tarkovsky answered it. The cost was so huge: about six hundred million yen as to make Bondarchuk, who directed that grand spectacle of a movie “War and Peace,” agape in wonder.

Now I came to fully realize why the boss of the Mosfilm said it was “a Great War for me.” But it takes a huge talent and effort to spend such a huge cost. Thinking “This is a tremendous task” I closely gazed at his back when he was leading me around the set in enthusiasm.

Concerning Solaris, I find many people complaining that it is too long, but I do not think so. They especially find too lengthy the description of nature in the introductory scenes, but these layers of memory of farewell to this earthly nature submerge themselves deep below the bottom of the story after the main character has been sent in a rocket into the satellite station base in the universe, and they almost torture the soul of the viewer like a kind of irresistible nostalghia toward mother earth nature, which resembles homesickness. Without the presence of beautiful nature sequences on earth as a long introduction, you could not make the audience directly conceive the sense of having-no-way-out harboured by the people “jailed” inside the satellite base.

I saw this film late at night in a preview room in Moscow for the first time, and soon I felt my heart aching in agony with a longing to returning to the earth as quickly as possible. Marvellous progress in science we have been enjoying, but where will it lead humanity after all? Sheer fearful emotion this film succeeds in conjuring up in our soul. Without it, a science fiction movie would be nothing more than a petty fancy.

These thoughts came and went while I was gazing at the screen.

Tarkovsky was together with me then. He was at the corner of the studio. When the film was over, he stood up, looking at me as if he felt timid. I said to him, “Very good. It makes me feel real fear.” Tarkovsky smiled shyly, but happily. And we toasted vodka at the restaurant in the Film Institute. Tarkovsky, who didn’t drink usually, drank a lot of vodka, and went so far as to turn off the speaker from which music had floated into the restaurant, and began to sing the theme of samurai from Seven Samurai at the top of his voice.

As if to rival him, I joined in.

For I was at that moment very happy to find myself living on Earth.

Solaris makes a viewer feel this, and even this single fact shows us that Solaris is no ordinary SF film. It truly somehow provokes pure horror in our soul. And it is under the total grip of the deep insights of Tarkovsky.

There must be many, many things still unknown to humanity in this world: the abyss of the cosmos which a man had to look into, strange visitors in the satellite base, time running in reverse, from death to life, strangely moving sense of levitation, his home which is in the mind of the main character in the satellite station is wet and soaked with water. It seems to me to be sweat and tears that in his heartbreaking agony he sqeezed out of his whole being. And what makes us shudder is the shot of the location of Akasakamitsuke, Tokyo, Japan. By a skillful use of mirrors, he turned flows of head lights and tail lamps of cars, multiplied and amplified, into a vintage image of the future city. Every shot of Solaris bears witness to the almost dazzling talents inherent in Tarkovsky.

Many people grumble that Tarkovsky’s films are difficult, but I don’t think so. His films just show how extraordinarily sensitive Tarkovsky is. He made a film titled Mirror after Solaris. Mirror deals with his cherished memories in his childhood, and many people say again it is disturbingly difficult. Yes, at a glance, it seems to have no rational development in its storytelling. But we have to remember: it is impossible that in our soul our childhood memories should arrange themselves in a static, logical sequence.

A strange train of fragments of early memory images shattered and broken can bring about the poetry in our infancy. Once you are convinced of its truthfulness, you may find Mirror the easiest film to understand. But Tarkovsky remains silent, without saying things like that at all. His very attitude makes me believe that he has wonderful potentials in his future.

There can be no bright future for those who are ready to explain everything about their own film. —Akira Kurosawa.

[xiaodejunletsact]

Hello there, I hope youre doing okay! okay so, I was planning to left a review into the tag of your mark's fic Launch but for some reason I don't know I can't reblog the post as in it close the app when I try to. So I'm going to left my thoughts here if you don't mind ? 🦫 (also im French so my english is not perfect sorry djfjjf).

I dont know if Launch was posted a long time ago or not, but I still wanted you to know how emotional I am after reading this piece of absolute art. I want you to know how well you've done by writing such a beautiful and moving story!! I'm not gonna lie, when I saw in the warning the precision of 'death', i was already scared to have my heart broken if it was mark who died, but bub, even if it wasn't him, I still get my heart broken  *I was SOBbiNG so hard, johnny didn't deserved it omg*.

The beginning of the story was just.. I don't know, you had a way with your words and sentence who made me feel like I was watching a movie in a movie room, with a cheerful background song and I literally loved how you introduced subtly the growing passion of space into Mark's mind, and I found it cute and funny how at a young age, he ditched his own birthday party to go find his grandpa! (their scene was so cute omg I couldn't stop myself from smiling) 🥺

FJJFJFJKKCKKCKFKF MARK AND SUNSHINE'S LOVE STORY OH MY GOD I DON'T HAVE THE WORDS to express my feelings about thEM. all their dialogues, the emotions they felt for each others over the years, their characters' developments (who btw, was *chef kiss*) over the years, the different situations they had to go through *cough*Johnny's passing </3 and all the hard moments after this*cough*, I was in admiration during all the reading. Even if what Mark did was not the right thing to do, I could understand it was his way to try to mourn his bestfriend's death, even if sometimes if would have been better for him to accept sunshine's help than him stepping away from his family (it did things to my heart), you know what I mean ? But I get what he was feeling, especially when yn said to him the words he wanted to hear to finally let go of his pain, I quote: < "You go silent for a moment. “Mark… Johnny would be really proud of everything you’ve accomplished, you know that right?” >. Oh God, the way I realized how broken he was *sob*. Also, at this moment, I understood how strong and important was yn's character in this story. The way her character is just so.. delicately beautiful, kind, she was radiating positivity in all the scenes of this story, minus the confrontation scenes and the very sad moments of Johnny passing, you get what I mean? Like.. sometimes, you come across some characters who you're really thankful for their presence in the story ffjfjjfjf. In the end, she played a big role into Mark's life, and I'm grateful for that hehe (dude that's just a story but I lived it like a real lifetime happening in front of my eyes). Also I noticed how you protayed Mark's character crying a lot, and that's not a bad thing, on the contrary, it showed us how human and emotionally courageous he was to try to be better after John's passing (? I'm not sure of this sentence, but I tried fjdjdj, I hope you understand what I mean), like.. im still speechless over all the hardship they all had to do through.. like.. its impossible to not be emotionally destroyed after this, but not everyone have a love like yn and mark (omg, help, i want to cry just by thinking about their beautiful love). Also, I know loving someone can be sometimes exhausting, or how it might be difficult to still be over the hells for someone while time pass, but.. for yn and mark, it was like love was really worth it and was the most important thing in the world.

I forgot to talk about Elliot omg, okay, he's a cutie pie and i particularly loved one of his innocent moment: <“Daddy?” Elliot’s soft voice ends your long eye contact. Mark looks at your son, humming. “At school, a girl told me that when a boy looks at a girl for a long time, that means he likes her... Do you like Mommy?” [...] You scoff, looking away. You stand up grabbing the empty plates and walking towards the kitchen, missing the moment where Elliot leans close to Mark and whispers: “I think she likes you too.”>. there is something in this scene who make me smile about Elliot's character. He was really not aware of what was happening between Mark and yn, and yet, he made a real statement even for his young ignorant mind. He was able to see the love between his parents (aaaaah idk what I'm saying I'm sorry fjfj this is a mess, I don't know how to explain my thoughts into words), and it reminded us again about their beautiful string even in the most complicated moments.

This message is long, im sorry 🤭

I was sweating during the scenes of Launch's day, i was scared you would put an reverse card and be like "bitches, mark is dying too", I don't think I would have been able to get over this after all the sad moments you wrote fjfjf. Even yn's wasn't able to appease my mind lmao bc she was scared too for Mark's life 🤧.

BUT YOU DIDNT, THE SUFFERING WAS WORTH IT BC HE LIVED AS WELL AS HIS PARTNERS, I was happy and I just wanted soft moments between Mark and yn to appease my heart *sigh*, and we got it fjfjfj the final scene made me so happy and satisfied. You have no ideas, the last sentence about the Gemini twins, it made me think about the very first moments of the story and looking back to all the things who happened, it gave me an happy closure because in the end they were together. 💞 aaaah there are a lot of things I didn't mentioned, I want you to know that I loved every sentences of this magnificent story 💞

Have a good day and thank you so so much for writing this story, it's one of the best Mark's story I had the honor to read on this app!

OH MY GODD this review literally made me cry at prom 😂😭 (yes I’m class of 2020 and we FINALLY had our prom a year later) I always love receiving long messages like this, it’s so crazy that something I wrote and spent so much time and creative juices making can will someone to think so many thoughts !! Idk it’s just so exciting!! Also ! I love that you went through the fic in chronological order in your review too lmao. You also pointed out so many details I thought people had looked over that makes me really happy 🥺 as I write launch I kinda of thought of the idea as a film first (I’m a film writer !) so for you to say that it felt like you were watching a film was just everything I’ve ever wanted !! Thank you so much!! ❤️❤️

[ryansunsolved]

Request: Stripper AU, but Shane’s the stripper and no one knows until Ryan ends up at the club where Shane works because it’s a new club.

I’ve seen this prompt floating around tumblr recently but I’ve never seen someone make Shane the stripper in this AU, so kudos to you anon for being creative and providing us with some god-tier stripper!Shane content. I mean, look at that boy’s legs!

sweet as wine

There he was, like disco superfly I smell sex and candy here Who's that lounging in my chair?

Read below the cut or here on ao3

Look— none of this would have happened if Steven Lim wasn’t a scheming little weasel who doesn’t respect the sanctity of Chubby Have I Bunnied.

“Never have I ever lived in Arcadia, California,” Steven said through a mouthful of marshmallows.

 It was foul— but fair play, and an obvious payback for Ryan’s earlier targeted question at Steven. Ryan laughed and begrudgingly fit another extra large marshmallow into his cheeks, nudging Shane.

 “I feel like you have” he smiled, pointing a finger at him.

 “Hm? Have I ever lived in Arcadia, California?”

 “Oh, I thought you said slept,” Ryan snorted, a rogue marshmallow falling out of his mouth like a crewmate jumping ship.

 Shane bit his lip, remembering that one time, years ago when he and Ryan had just started working at Buzzfeed as interns, Ryan inviting him to stay at his parents’ house in Arcadia. He remembered that night all too clearly— the night of their first and only kiss.  It was as though they reached some silent agreement to never mention it again, and Shane didn’t dare to, keeping their work relationship and his own feelings separate. But that was ages ago, and even if Shane’s feelings were still virulent in moments like these when Ryan looked soft and sure, leaning into his space, he had gone this long without mentioning it.

 No need to ruin a good thing,  he thought bitterly, and begun to wonder if he would have to dig out that old journal sooner than expected.

 Ryan had lost the game, forced to spit a congealed mess of mashed-up marshmallow into the staff sink, much to the mutual disgust of his co-hosts, and that’s when shit hit the fan.

 “Ryan, since you’re the loser, I think you should face punishment of some sorts,” Steven said thoughtfully, grinning as he reclined back in his chair.

 “Now, now, let’s be civil,” Shane tutted, Ryan rising to meet Steven’s eye beside him.

 “Like what?”

 “Oh, I don’t know...” Steven hummed, twiddling his fingers. Shane could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

 Steven and Ryan had always had this peculiar rivalry of sorts. It was usually victimless and in terms of workplace conflict, relatively mild, but sometimes it got carried away. Shane could think of about ten different instances off the top of his head where the two had gone head-to-head.

 “What about...you have to go to a strip-club—“

 “What?!” Ryan burst into laughter, head tilting towards the ceiling as he snorted into his hands, “Wha—  why?”

 “—for two hours, with the boys,” Steven finished, “Come on, Ryan, it’ll be fun.”

 Shane instantly paled, pulse hot and wild beneath his skin, Ryan’s laughter muffled below the ringing in his ears. He swallowed thickly, only shaken from his thoughts by Ryan’s hand, searing hot on his thigh.

 “What do you say, Big Guy? You, me, Big Apple Steve, and T.J. out on the town this Friday?”

 Shane looked at Ryan’s sunshine smile, those glittering brown eyes, completely unaware of the inner turmoil Steven’s simple gag had sent him into. Ryan’s touch seemed to brand his skin beneath his skinny jeans. He shivered, putting on what he hoped was a composed face.

 “Sorry, boys,” he said breezily, “m’afraid I’ve got plans.”

 “Booooo,” Steven called after him as he hobbled unsteadily to his feet, making a bee-line for the water cooler.

 Ryan laughed, adding a few taunts of his own, but as Shane cooled his burning face against his aluminum water bottle, he noticed Ryan’s curious glance, as if trying to read Shane’s mind

____

Okay—Shane hadn’t lied. He really was busy on Friday night. What important plans he had, he couldn’t say, not even as Ryan continued to pester him for the rest of the week. He supposes that considering the nature of said aforementioned plans, it would have been wiser to cancel them altogether and just tag along. It would be easier right? He could see Ryan get drunk and danced upon by a few scantily-clad women and then Uber it back home after knocking back a few brewskis himself. But it wasn’t his fault— how was he supposed to know that the strip club Steven would drag Ryan to would be the same strip club Shane worked at?

 Look, Shane wasn’t down on his luck by any means— he had recently started a promising new company with two of his closest friends and colleagues, and was still receiving a cushy contracting cheque from Buzzfeed for their Unsolved series. And despite his recent exit out of a long-term relationship, he liked to think he was doing pretty well, co-parenting a cat with a woman he still very much considered a good friend. But Los Angeles was an expensive place to live, and despite his nonchalant attitude in the Watcher Weekly, he couldn’t help but wonder, if it all went south, what would his backup plan be?

 Besides, why did strippers always need some tragic background story to justify what they do? Couldn’t they just dance because they enjoyed it? 

Shane certainly did, and it came as a real surprise. He never actually expected to take his brother’s friend up on the offer when Finn dragged him to a bar one weekend. They were four drinks in, intoxicated by the booze and fluorescent lights of the dim club, but that single passing comment ended up thrusting Shane into what would eventually become his side job and newfound passion.

 “You could probably strip,” he joked, knocking back some fruity drink, “got the legs for it and everything.”

 The guy was piss-drunk and drenched in body glitter— not exactly the kind of person you would take moral advice from, but nevertheless, Shane woke the next morning with a pounding head and an odd curiosity. It was a joke at first— like one of those bizarre hypotheticals your brain sometimes conjures up. But you never actually  act  on them. The only problem was that he did, and by the time he had secured his first gig, he could no longer deny that he was actually  interested  in a job like this. Okay, so what? He was a young, attractive man living in a particularly liberal part of L.A. 

He shouldn’t have to prove himself, or feel ashamed about what he does. Hell, half the people he worked with were gay and heavily involved in the nightclub scene. And yet still, he found himself choosing not to mention this particular part of his life to his coworkers—  especially not Ryan.

 It just never came up, and Shane never thought that it would— that was before Ryan showed up at his strip club.

 ____ 

The atmosphere hit Ryan like a freight train the second two intimidating bouncers begrudgingly lifted up two velvet ropes, letting him, Steven, and T.J. into the nightclub.

 It was rather upscale, and nothing like the sleazy, smoke-filled joints Ryan remembered from his college days. The walls were black marble, lined with tasteful vintage band posters and neon hanging emblems. An authentic-looking jukebox sat nestled in the corner, and along the stage, a line of attractive dancers had started to form.

 “I can’t believe they still I.D’ed me at the door,” Ryan shouted above the music, vibrating intensely through the floor and walls.

 Steven grinned, “Well, you know what they say— Asian don’t raisin.”

 “What—“ Ryan laughed, unaware if Steven could even hear him over the noise, “I’ve never heard that before.”

 Steven smiled and nodded towards a nearby waitress, leaning in closer to Ryan’s ear, “Maybe you can try to get a free drink. You never know!”

 T.J. rolled his eyes, “Meet me at the bar by twelve. And try not to do anything that’s going to get us arrested.”

 With that he left, striking up a conversation with the bartender. T.J. was a married man with a newborn baby at home— a strip club was the last place he wanted to be, but he obliged to humour Ryan and to provide a ride home if needed.  Ryan, however was recently single. He and Mari had broke things off amicably about a month prior, giving her more freedom to explore her blooming career and Ryan more opportunities to film things for Watcher without feeling guilty about time spent away from home.  They were on good terms, but breakups were never easy, and Ryan was more than happy to get his mind off the situation and get himself back into the dating pool. He suspected Steven’s intentions were as such when he suggested this in the first place, and overcome with a sudden wave of affection for the man, slung an arm around his shoulder.

 “C’mon, Big Apple Steve. Let’s go find us some dancers.”

 _____

 The performances were impressive. Sultry but tasteful, dozens of dancers strutted the stage, winding around glimmering silver poles like black cats, smoky eyes glittering down at the crowd.  There were a few men in the mix too, clad in tight, cropped black clothes, rippling with muscle underneath. Ryan paid no mind to them, used to L.A.’s diverse, open culture, and after knocking back a few drinks, he even found himself eyeing them as much as the girl performers.  It was then that his heart stopped dead in his chest, pushing away the slow haze of liquor from his mind as his eyes zeroed in on one tall figure working the stage.

   The man was unbelievably tall— towering above the rest of the performers, even the ones in six-inch heels. Through the rips in his black jeans, he could see his pale skin, broken up by delicate lace fishnets clinging to his slim long legs.  As the man peeled his shirt off, his collarbones jutted outwards, lean muscle trailing downwards from between his chest. His makeup was minimal— just smudged black eyeliner and a light dusting of glitter down his cheeks and pecs, hair mussed up as if he’d just had sex.  He swayed gracefully to the music, toying with the button of his jeans teasingly, stalking the pole like a predator before swinging around it once, smoothly. Ryan’s jaw dropped, and as he made eye contact with the stranger, the man visibly blanched.

 “I...” Ryan choked out, pants alarmingly tight as a hot coil wound inside his stomach.

 And then Shane was running off the stage, disappearing behind a blue velvet curtain as the music boomed on.

 “Wow,” Steven said, equally as baffled.

 “I...I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Ryan said shakily, nearly tripping over his seat.

 He stumbled towards the floor, and much to his own surprise, he found himself ignoring the neon green restroom sign, heading straight for the backstage instead.

 ____

He found Shane hunched over a vanity with smudged makeup and a lit cigarette like a tragic Hollywood star drowning in self pity and body glitter.

 “I’m not offering any private dances right now,” he grumbled, voice muffled by his hand.

 “I...” Ryan said, unsure of what the proper protocol was upon finding your friend naked and grinding on a stripper pole.

 He was even less sure about how to gracefully navigate that conversation with a raging boner.

 “Oh,” Shane said softly, taking in a sharp breath.

 “I—“

 “Look—“

 They both spoke at the same time, laughing quietly like it was some kind of Mexican stalement and not the singlehanded most confusing moment of their entire friendship thus far.

 “You first,” Shane said almost shyly, and it occurred to Ryan then that for the first time in their dynamic, Shane might be more scared than him.

 “I had no idea,” he said lamely, and cast his gaze back at his sneakers.

 Nice going, Bergara. Real smooth.

 Shane laughed dryly, “Yeah, that...that was kinda the whole point. Who woulda thought Steven would pick the only strip club I’m working at tonight, huh?”

 Ryan smiled, scratching his neck, “Yeah. Uh— I just...” he looked at Shane, biting his lip, “Why didn’t you tell me? I know it’s none of my business what you do in your spare time but...we’re friends, Shane. You know you can share this stuff with me, right?”

 Shane looked down at his lap, looking guilty, “I know, Ryan, I just...” he sighed, “I don’t know.”

 “I mean,” Ryan shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. It was decidedly hard to have a serious conversation when your incredibly hot friend was half naked and sweaty in front of you. “Is it for money or—“

 “No,” Shane said instantly. He shook his head, “I just...” he trailed off, looking at Ryan and offering a halfhearted shrug, “like it, I guess.”

 Ryan nodded, furrowing his brows, trying to take all this information in through his beer-clouded mind.

 “Okay,” he said finally.

 Shane looked at him, looking surprisingly vulnerable and almost small in his chair, “Okay.”

 Ryan swallowed thickly, “You were really good out there.”

 Shane snorted, scratching at his chin, fingers scraping against his beard with a soft sound that send another confusing jolt of heat towards Ryan’s groin.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah,” Ryan said, surprised at how deep his voice sounded. He began to walk towards Shane, seemingly not by his own accord. “Really good.”

 “You already said that,” Shane said smiling, looking amused.

 “Really good,” Ryan repeated, voice husky and thick in his chest. Shane’s eyes were wide, and from their close distance, he could see as they dilated, eyes darkening further.

 He licked his lips, feeling dizzy with the intensity of it all, high on the sight of Shane before him, “Still not doing any private dances tonight?”

 “I...” Shane trailed off, looking at his lips, “I might be able to make an exception.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.”

 Like moving through water, Shane slowly stood up, drawing up a chair, pushing on Ryan’s chest until he fell back into it, breaths laboured as they tore through his chest.  Shane circled the chair once, twice, dragging his fingertips teasingly against Ryan’s low collar before stopping in front of him, dropping gracefully  to the ground on the balls of his feet, smiling coyly at him, gripping his chin.  He got up again, slowly swinging his hips and trailing his hands along his thighs, dragging them up his hardened pecs before threading them through his hair, giving it a resolute tug. He poised one of his long legs on the arm of Ryan’s chair, the impressive bulge in his jeans in direct eyesight as he dragged Ryan’s gaze up to meet his own.

  Shane slowly pivoted, fully into the dance now, a small smile on his face as he ground back against Ryan, grabbing his hands and placing them on his thighs, where fishnets poked out of the leg of his jeans. Ryan’s breath faltered in his lungs,  “Holy fuck,” he gasped, the air knocked out of him like he’d just taken a football to the chest. His fingers twitched along the exposed line of skin, feeling like a teenager creaming his pants after getting to first base.

  What the fuck.

 And then Shane was pulling away, dragging him by the hand to a small couch in the middle of the room.

 “Shane, wha—“ Ryan was cut off by a strangled moan as Shane pushed him back into the cushions, straddling his lap with practiced ease.

 Shane smiled against his neck, starting to trail soft kisses along his jawline as he began to unbutton Ryan’s shirt.

 “Fuck, Shane, I—“ he panted nonsensically, hands exploring whatever expanse of skin he could reach.

 As Shane sucked a small bruise just under his ear, Ryan’s shirt popped open, nipples immediately hardening under the cool air as Shane began to grind softly down onto him, mouthing a hot line up his neck and clavicles.

 “Please, please,” Ryan moaned, reaching out for him. In his clouded mind, he wasn’t even fully aware of what he was asking for until he found it in between Shane’s parted lips. He  sighed into the kiss, hands cupping Shane’s cheeks as his settled on Ryan’s shoulders, rutting dirtily against the front of his jeans. Ryan gasped into the kiss, a strangled moan torn out of his lips as Shane drew his fingers down to pad at his sensitive nipples.

 “Fuck!” he groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his movements.

 “Someone’s sensitive,” Shane murmured in his ear, placing a teasing bite along his jaw.

 “Shane, Shane,” he breathed, eyes rolling back into his head.

 And then Shane took one pec into his mouth and Ryan Bergara was a dead man.

 “Ohhh!” he borderline whined, clawing at Shane’s smooth back as he nipped at the bud, laving his tongue over it and mouthing hotly between his sternum.

 He ground down once, twice, and eyes glittering, placing his mouth over his sensitive nipple, he reached down with his free hand and squeezed the bulge pressing against the zipper of Ryan’s jeans. With one plaintive moan and a stuttered,  Shane, Ryan bucked his hips up and stilled, wide-eyed and flushed pink under the soft lights, “I just came in my pants,” he said suddenly. “Oh my god.”

 Shane cracked up, slumping against Ryan and burying his nose in his shoulder, “Oh my god, Ryan.”

 “It’s not my fault you’re so hot!” he said defensively, clinging onto Shane as he blanketed his body warmly, pressing him into the couch. He pressed a small kiss to his exposed neck, and Shane smiled.

 “I’m never letting you live this one down,” he wheezed, clapping him once on the ass, “I guess the viewers were right about your nipple thing.”

 “S-Shut up, Shane,” he muttered, pinching him in the arm.

 Shane huffed out a laugh against his neck and as the air stilled, he shut his eyes, “So...should we talk about this?”

 Ryan shifted underneath him, “Nah,” he said groggily, leaning into his touch, “let’s do that when I haven’t had five brewskis.”

 “Five?” Shane laughed, “Your frat boy habits die hard, Ryan. You’re gonna be a real menace tomorrow.”

 “Well,” Ryan said slowly, tracing a line down his back, “maybe you should come home with me and make sure my morning is tolerable.”

 “Oh yeah?”

 “Yeah,” Ryan said, feeling emboldened with each inch he grew closer to Shane, high off the post-orgasm bliss and the smell of Shane’s cologne warm and sweet against his skin.

 Shane grabbed his ass, “I fuckin’ love Steven Lim.”

 As Ryan dissolved into laughter, he couldn’t help but share the sentiment. And that night when he and Shane walked out of the bar hand-in-hand, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was Steven’s plan all along.

(send me a request!)

[spn-safeandsound]

12. Long Distance

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x17; Hell House

Word Count: 7,182

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, sisterly antics

Author’s Note: Enjoy! Let me know what you think! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia anxiously watched the printer in Beth and Taylor's study, her lips quirking into a smile as the professional cursive was inked onto the expensive paper that Beth insist she get for her diploma. She had finally graduated from Stanford and, although she didn't get to attend graduation, she was very proud of herself. Her double major in Religion and Linguistics had been received simply because she was too meticulous and stubborn to let her education go waste.

But now that education was over and she couldn't lie and say she wasn't happy about it.  Sixteen years in school was a long time—even though she went two years less than other people she graduated with—and she was glad that part of her life was over. She just wished that her mom and Levi were still here to witness this. Still, she knew they were watching up in Heaven and that was the best she was going to get.

Once the printer spit out her diploma, she carefully set it on Beth's desk so the ink could dry without any smudges. She was just taking a seat in the desk chair where her open laptop was sitting so she could continue working on the case she found for Sam and Dean down in Texas when her cellphone rang.

She wasn't surprised that it was Dean; he had been calling her every couple of hours to check up on her. He wasn't happy that she didn't want to hit the road just yet after Levi's death but he understood and was supportive anyway. He just made sure she knew that he and Sam would check up on her and the rest of the Petersen family. That was sweet and everything and Julia appreciated how supportive the Winchester brothers were being but sometimes there was such a thing as too many calls. She couldn't believe that Dean accused her of talking too much.

Beth and Abby thought it was the cutest thing ever when she'd have to leave the room to talk to Sam and Dean—though it was mostly Dean as she and Sam communicated through a text thread—and not return for a half-hour. Beth and Abby weren't the ones who had to assure a very worried Dean every couple of minutes that they were safe and feeling a little bit better. Usually Julia was the mother-hen but, apparently, in her absence, Dean took up the title.

Julia sighed and flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Dean."

"Yeah, I know," Julia rolled her eyes, glad that he couldn't see the obvious look on her face. "What's up?"

"Well, Sam just woke up with a spoon in his mouth," Dean chuckled, sounding satisfied with himself. "and I took a picture to send to you."

"Yeah, it's real funny, Dean," Sam grumbled.

Julia shook her head in amusement; Sam and Dean's prank wars were always a hit with Dean, even if Sam didn't enjoy them as much as his older brother.

"Where are you guys?"

"A few hours outside of Richardson," Dean answered her. "Give me the low down on this case you found."

"Okay," Julia pressed the space button on her laptop, waking it up, and clicked on the folder of information she collected. "About two months ago, a group of kids went poking around a local haunted house."

"Haunted by what?" Sam wondered.

"A misogynistic spirit, I guess. Like we need any more of those in the world," she hummed in disapproval; Sam chuckled in agreement. "Anyway, the legend goes that it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters."

"Okay, so what happened with this group of kids?" Dean said, getting her back on track.

"They saw a dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?"

"The body was gone by the time the cops got there," Julia clicked on the police report in the file. "The police think that the kids were playing a joke on them."

"Maybe the cops were right," Sam suggested.

"They could be but I've read some of the first-hand accounts from the kids involved," Julia sighed. "They seemed pretty sincere about the whole thing."

Dean sounded skeptical when he spoke next. "And where did you read these accounts, Junior?"

Julia took a beat, glad that he couldn't see the flush rising in her face. "I might have surfed through some local paranormal websites."

"Mmhm," she could hear Dean's disapproval even though he hummed. "and what's it called?"

Julia sighed as she read the website from the file, "Hell hounds lair dot-com," she heard Sam laugh. "Hey, it could be legit!"

"Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the ass, Julia," Dean sighed.

"Hey, you wanted a case, I delivered," Julia defended herself. "If it's nothing, that's fine, but it doesn't hurt to check it out."

"Especially since we let Dad and Luke take off," Sam backed up Julia.

Julia frowned, still bitter about that. She wasn't mad at Dean and Sam by any means. No, she was angry with her dad. He didn't come when Julia was dying or when Levi actually died but he was fine following John Winchester to Chicago just to see the failed trap the girl who killed Levi set up for them.

It wasn't like his daughters were only a half-hour away, mourning the loss of their older brother or anything. It wasn't like his only son was killed.

"Fine," Dean gave in when he heard Julia's silence. He had been the one to tell her that they saw Luke with their dad and it was heartbreaking to see the expression on her face. He hoped he'd never let her down like Luke did. "We'll check it out. How have you been doing, shortcake?"

"I'm fine," Julia twisted her lips. "I got my diploma today."

"Wait, are you serious?" Sam exclaimed. "That's great, J! Congratulations!"

"I'm proud of you, Julia," Dean added sincerely.

"Thanks, guys," Julia's chest swelled with love. She was so glad that Sam and Dean Winchester were in her life.

"Send me a picture."

"I will," she agreed to Sam's request. "Well, I'll let you go—"

"Wait, wait," Dean stopped her from hanging up. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Dean..."

"I mean, you can talk to us."

Julia quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't do chick-flick moments?"

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well..." he changed the subject. "How many times have you watched Dirty Dancing since we left?"

Julia hesitated; Dirty Dancing was her go-to movie to watch whenever she was sad. It was her mother's favorite movie and Julia grew up watching it a lot. She absolutely adored Patrick Swayze, the dancing, the music, and the love story that made up the film. It made her happier.

"Jules?"

"I've watched it every night, okay?" she confessed. "Leave me alone, I'm delicate."

"All right, all right," Dean gave in; Julia could tell that he was worried about her and that was sweet but watching that movie was her coping mechanism and it hadn't let her down so far. "We'll talk later, shortcake. Stay safe."

"I will," she promised. "You guys be safe, too. Love you."

"Love ya, too, J," Sam called. "Bye."

"Bye."

Julia closed her phone and set it down on the desk beside her laptop. She pulled up her internet browser and started doing more research for the case, hoping that any information she pulled would help the brothers out.

-

Dean and Sam walked into the record shop, looking around for the guy that the witnesses said sent them to the house where they saw the dead girl. As they passed by the first table full of records, a worker came out from the back with his hands full of more merchandise to put away.

"Gentlemen, can I help you with anything?" he asked them.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked him politely.

"I am," the worker confirmed as he put a record in place.

"Well, we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News," Dean told him. "I'm Dean and this is Sam."

"No way," Craig's face lit up. "I'm a writer, too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

"Ah, good for you, Morrison," Dean chuckled as he began to look through the crate of records in front of him. He completely missed the confused look that Craig gave him but Sam noticed and cleared his throat.

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one," Sam smiled at Craig, wishing that Julia was here to get the information out of him—she was much better with the guys than he was.

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig asked.

Dean nodded, looking up from the records. "That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story," Craig said avoidantly.

"Why don't you tell us the story."

"Well, supposedly, back in the thirties, this farmer named Mordechai Murdoch used to live in this house with his six daughters," Craig told them after a moment of hesitation. "It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, and he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So, I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "How?"

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death, so he attacked them," Craig stated. "They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung them up, one after the other. And, when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself. Now, they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

Dean pressed his lips together; the story Craig was telling sounded just like that. A story. His words were something out of a dramatic novel, not a true story. And what parent would just kill their kids instead of trying to do whatever it took to make sure they lived?

"Where'd you hear all of this?" he asked Craig.

"My cousin, Dana, told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You gotta realize, I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do," Sam assumed.

"I don't know what the hell to think, man," Craig shrugged. "You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again."

Dean shared a look with Sam and then nodded at Craig. "Thanks."

A half-hour later, Sam and Dean were walking through mud to get to the so-called Hell House. It was creepy looking, they had to admit, but not anything less creepy than the things they saw everyday during their job. It was just a little run-down house, not much else.

"I can't say I blame the kid," Sam sighed, his eyes searching the grounds around the house.

"Yeah," Dean agreed as they got closer to the house. "so much for curb appeal."

Sam took a look around the perimeter of the house while Dean pulled out the EMF meter. It whirled like it usually did when there was anything unusual around but the way it started up as soon as he pressed it on, made him think that something was off.

He tapped the device, frustrated, as Sam came back over to him.

"You got something?"

"Yeah, the EMF's no good," Dean looked around, the powerlines above the house catching his eye.

"Why?"

Dean nodded at the power lines. "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings."

Sam sighed heavily. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"Come on, let's go."

They entered the house, finding that it was unlocked in its abandoned state. They started in the front room and then moved onto the living room where a fireplace lined with various candles was. The walls were covered in spray paint, a bunch of different symbols that didn't really even go together scattered randomly around the room.

Dean whistled sarcastically. "Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger in his time."

"And after his time, too," Sam muttered, eyeing a symbol of an encircled cross. "That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of Sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties."

Dean gave Sam a long took, wrinkling his nose. "How do you know that?"

"I listen to Julia when she talks about this kind of stuff," Sam said pointedly, knowing that Dean checked out whenever something that required a little brain power was brought up.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he walked across the room, looking at more of the symbols on the walls. He stopped in front of one that looked like an upside-down question mark with two little lines on either side. It looked kind of familiar. "Hey, what about this one? Have you seen this one before?"

Sam studied the symbol and took a picture of it with his phone. "No."

"I have...Somewhere," he couldn't place it, though.

Sam cautiously reached toward the symbol, rubbing it with his fingertips. "It's paint," he studied the slight stain that it left. "Seems pretty fresh, too."

Dean sighed and turned away from the symbol. "I don't know, Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind but the cops may be right about this one."

"Yeah, maybe—"

A loud noise cut off Sam's agreement. The brothers instantly went on alert and followed the noise to a door that led to another room. They stood on either side of it; when Sam nodded, Dean whipped open the door and stepped into the room.

He was immediately attacked by bright beams of lights right in his eyes and two groans of horror. When the flashlights flitted away, he could see that there were two guys in front of them, around his age with camera gear.

The brunette groaned. "Oh, cut. It's just a couple of humans," he told his companion, who shut the camera off. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean countered.

"Uh, we belong here," the ginger guy with the camera drawled. "We're professionals."

"Professional what?"

"Paranormal investigators," the ginger reached into his pocket and pulled out a card to give to them. "Here you go, take a look at that, boys."

Dean took the card and read it. He groaned in realization, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler? Hellhoundslair.com," Sam read over his shoulder. "You guys run that website?"

Ed, who was the ginger with the camera, nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, we're huge fans," Dean said sarcastically as he passed Ed and Harry to check out more of the kitchen.

"And we know who you guys are, too," Ed said.

Dean and Sam turned to face him sharply. "Oh, yeah?"

"Amateurs," as soon as the words were out of Ed's mouth, Dean pursed his lips and turned away once again. "looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yep," the other guy, Harry, agreed. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here."

"Yeah?" Dean noticed a gadget that they must have brought with them on the counter; he picked it up to inspect it. "What do you have so far?"

"Harry, why don't you tell them about EMF?" Ed prompted his friend.

Harry hesitated. "Well..."

"EMF?" Sam played dumb and Dean saw that he was trying not to smile.

"Electromagnetic field," Harry told him as though he was an expert. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector," he pulled a EMF reader out of his canvas vest. "Like this bad boy right here."

He turned on the EMF, causing it to whirl angrily. "Woah, woah," he exchanged an excited look with Ed while Dean smirked at Sam. "It's two-point-eight MG."

"Two-point-eight," Ed repeated excitedly. "It's hot in here."

Dean whistled mockingly while Sam tried not to laugh. "Wow."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue. "So, have you guys ever really seen a ghost before?"

"Once," Ed looked back to where Dean was standing by the counters. "We were, uh, we were investigation this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table."

"By itself," Harry added needlessly.

"Well, we didn't actually see it, we heard it," Ed corrected himself but grew serious again. "And something like that...it, uh, it changes you."

"Yeah, I think I get the picture," Dean crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to Sam. "We should go, let them get back to work."

"Yeah, you should."

Dean nodded at his brother and then the door. "Sam."

Sam followed him out of the kitchen and they left the house, not wanting to deal with the kids who wanted to enter the big leagues.

-

Julia kneaded the sugar cookie dough on the counter in front of her, humming along to whatever Disney song that the radio that was playing throughout the kitchen. Lizzie was on her side of the island, cutting out cookies with a heart-shaped cookie cutter while Beth and Abby were on the other side, decorating some of the finished cookies with colorful icing.

Once that song was finished, a familiar one started, making her smile.

"Oh, I love this song!" Abby exclaimed while concentrating on the flower cookie she was creating. "Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns!"

"Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?" Beth joined in.

Julia sang next. "You're the saddest bunch I ever met but you can bet before we're through..."

"Mister, I'll make a man out of you!" Lizzie finished loudly, making Julia, Beth, and Abby laugh.

They continued singing along to the best song that Mulan produced while making cookies. When Lizzie was finished with the rest of the heart batch, Julia slid the tray into the oven. Once she set the timer, she gave Lizzie the last batch of dough, allowing her to cut out some dinosaurs.

"I'm done with the dinosaurs, Momma!" Lizzie announced once the dough was gone.

"Good job, cutie," Beth smiled. "Why don't you go wash your hands?"

"Okay!" Lizzie climbed off the stool she was standing on and ran out of the kitchen to the nearest bathroom.

"Use soap!" Beth called after her; once she was sure her daughter couldn't overhear her, she turned to Julia. "So..."

Julia pursed her lips, knowing what was coming. Since Dean and Sam left four days before, Beth had been waiting to talk to her about something. She had that look in her eyes where she wanted girl talk and it also occurred every time Dean called her. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Julia sighed and started wiping the excess flour from the counter. "So what?"

Beth smiled coyly and Abby shook her head impatiently. "She wants to know about you and Dean."

"What about me and Dean?"

There was no her and Dean, no matter how much Julia wanted that. She had moments recently when she and Dean spoke—especially when Sam wasn't joining the conversations—where she thought Dean might have the same romantic feelings that she had but she wasn't sure. Dean cared about his family and he considered her and the rest of the Petersen family his family. It wasn't like he was pining after her the same way she was pining after him.

"Oh, stop deflecting, Julia Ruth," Beth scolded her. "There's something going on with you and Dean and I—" Abby cleared her throat and Beth corrected herself, "—we want to know."

Julia scoffed and threw her washcloth into the sink. "There is nothing going on. Trust me."

Beth and Abby exchanged skeptical looks. "But you want there to be, don't you?" Beth guessed; she gasped loudly when she saw Julia scratch her cheek. "Oh, my God, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"You scratched your cheek, you liar," Abby pointed out with a laugh. Julia scowled at her. "We're sisters, Jules. Sisters talk about this stuff."

"I've never talked to you about my boyfriends before," Julia protested.

"That's because by the time you had an actual boyfriend you were at Stanford," Beth reminded her. "and you did use to talk to me about boys. Remember that guy you liked when you were in high school?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," Julia groaned; Abby and Beth gave her expectant looks. "Fine, I like Dean. Happy?"

"Extremely," Abby smirked. "He sucked you back in, huh? How old were you when your crush on him finally went away?"

Julia blushed. "Fourteen."

Abby snorted in amusement. "Yeah, now I remember."

Julia sent her a glare while Beth slapped her arm. "Abby, stop," she scolded her before turning back to Julia. "Ignore her, Jules. It were cute."

"A fourteen-year-old crushing on a guy who was twenty? Yeah right," Julia scoffed. "And that's the problem, isn't it? He's almost seven years older than me. He doesn't see me as anything but a little sister."

Abby calmed her laughter. "Jules, Dean doesn't look at you like a sister," she told her baby sister. "He looks at me and Beth as sisters. He looks at you like you're sex on legs."

It was Beth's turn to giggle as Julia's cheeks darkened further and she ducked her head.

"And Sam says that he always checks you out," Abby added.

Julia looked up sharply. "He did?" Abby nodded. "Since when do you talk to Sam?"

"Since he grew up to be a hottie with a body."

Julia rolled her eyes so heavily that it hurt. "No one actually says that, Ab."

"Since when were we talking about me?" Abby protested as Beth laughed again. "my point it that Dean wants to fuck you."

"Okay, the five-year-old is going to be back any second so let's not use that language," Beth smothered her laughter as they heard the faucet cut off in the bathroom. "But, seriously, Julia, he likes you."

"What we're going from sex to feelings now?" Julia asked incredulously. "Sex, I get. I'm hot and Dean loves sex but feelings? Are we talking about the same Dean Winchesters, here?"

"I wanna talk about Uncle Dean!" Lizzie chirped as she ran back into the kitchen. She climbed back onto her stool and looked eagerly at her mom and aunts. "Are you talking about the crush he has on Auntie Jules?"

Julia gaped at her while Abby pointed enthusiastically. "See? Lizzie sees it too."

"That's because Beth's poisoning her mind."

"No," Lizzie protested innocently. "I heard Uncle Sammy and Auntie Abby talking about it."

"Well, I'm so glad that my love life is so interesting to you guys," Julia huffed with warm cheeks. She glanced at the oven, wishing the timer for the cookies would go off so they could change the subject.

"Look," Beth sighed. "Dean calls you multiple times a day, every day just to see how you're doing. Do you think he does that to anyone else who isn't Sam?"

"He's checking up on me."

"Don't give us that sh—crap," Abby shook her head, correcting herself before she could cuss in front of Lizzie. "You're scared that you'll put yourself out there and get rejected."

"Because it's Dean!" Julia exclaimed, frustrated. "Dean, who doesn't do relationships. So what if I want to protect myself? That's good."

"It's good to protect yourself," Beth agreed and grabbed Julia's clenched fists. "but you and Dean...you should see each other. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you're not looking. You move even an inch and he's shifting toward you. The way I see it, is this isn't a passing fancy."

"You're together every day, you fight along side each other, you protect one another," Abby continued. "You trust each other and that's rare in our profession, Jules. Even I can see that you guys have something special."

Julia wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. It was nice hearing her sisters say these things but she couldn't tell Dean about her less than platonic feelings for him. He was too important to her and she didn't want to lose him, even if it meant she had to get over her feelings. Dean didn't do relationships and she had tried the one-night stand thing and it didn't go well for her. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

As if the universe was disagreeing with her, her phone rang from the counter by the fridge. Lizzie eagerly climbed off her stool again and raced toward the phone, flipping it open.

"Hi, this is Lizzie!" she chirped before gasping excitedly. "Uncle Dean, we were just talking about you!"

"Lizzie!" Julia lunged toward her niece, ignoring her flour-covered hands to grab the phone from her. She pressed it against her ear. "Uh, hey, Dean."

"Hi there, shortcake," Dean's voice was coy. "Heard that you girls were talking about me. Are there gonna be pillow fights next because, if you want, you could—"

"Okay," Julia hurried interrupted him, waving frantically at her sisters as they laughed at the mortified expression on her face. "We were, um, we're making cookies actually, so...yeah."

"And I just so happen to come up in the conversation?" she could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

"Uh, yeah, because," she walked out of the kitchen and into the bathroom next door, shutting the door firmly behind her. "I was telling Lizzie that you liked pie instead of cookies."

Dean perked up. "You guys are making pie?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Julia agreed even though they hadn't really planned on it. "So, what's going on down there?"

"Eh, we got some more information," Dean sighed, becoming serious again. "Some kid told us that a guy named Mordechai Murdoch killed his six daughters during the Depression but what Sam found didn't quite match up."

Julia frowned. "Well, what did he find?"

"That the guy's name was actually Martin and he had two sons instead of six daughters," Dean informed her. "There's nothing to say he ever killed anyone."

"Huh," Julia wrinkled her nose. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I talked to the police and there's no missing persons, either," Dean paused for a second. "Jules, we dug like you wanted but we don't think there's anything here."

"Well, that's good, then," Julia said. "No spirit, no dead people, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, on your way back, you can stop in Houston," she suggested. "I, um, I got that NASA tour for Levi, remember?"

"Jules, we can't—"

"Yeah, you can," Julia insisted. "I don't want it to go to waste and you love that kind of stuff, Dean. You and Sam deserve some fun once in a while, you know?"

Dean was quiet for a few seconds. "All right. We'll check it out."

"Good," she smiled. "I'll email Sam the information about the tour and hotel."

"Thanks, shortcake," Dean's voice cheered up a little. "I'll call you later when we head out, okay?"

"Okay, talk later. Bye, Dean."

"Bye."

Julia snapped the phone shut and sighed, pressing it to her chest. She was glad that she got to the phone before Lizzie could spill on what they were really talking about. Dean was already insufferable when he knew they were talking about him but if he knew that they were talking about feelings and sex and all that, his ego wouldn't be able to fit in the Hancock building.

She slipped her flour-covered phone into her apron pocket and quickly washed her hands before heading back to the kitchen.

-

Before Sam and Dean could even leave town, they got a call from the detective Dean spoke with the day before. The sun was still setting when he called, telling them to get to the Hell House as soon as possible. When they arrived on scene, a body bag was being carted to the coroner's van. The detective informed them that a girl had hung herself in the house, which sounded just like the Mordechai story went.

They went back to the Hell House around midnight and dodged the cops when those nerds, Ed and Harry showed up. Mordechai ended up attacking with an ax and was immune to rock salt, which led them to more research.

Dean sat on his bed, drawing that familiar symbol on the notepad that the motel provided. "What the hell is this symbol? It's bugging the hell out of me," he looked up at Sam, who was researching at the table. "This whole fucking job is bugging me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam said distractedly, focusing on his laptop.

"All right, well, that explains why he went after you but why me?"

"Hilarious," Sam looked away from the screen to scowl at him. "The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah."

"What's up with that?" Sam shook his head. "And the ax, too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again?"

Dean nodded. "This dick keeps changing."

"Exactly. I'm telling you, the way the story goes..." Sam typed in Ed and Harry's website and pressed enter, waiting as it loaded. His eyes widened when he saw a new article about the Hell House. "Wait a minute."

Dean looked up from his notepad. "What?"

"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site," Sam informed him. "Listen to this: They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an ax before slitting his own wrists. Now, he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

Dean sat up as he stared at the symbol he had drawn, finally recognizing it.

"Where the hell is this going?"

"I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started," Dean rolled off his bed. "Come on, we gotta go to the record store."

They entered the record store not long after, spotting Craig at the cash register.

"Hey, Craig," Dean called to him over the loud rock music playing through the store. "Remember us?"

Craig sighed. "Guys, look, I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry," Dean waved him off as he stopped in front of the record crate marked with the second letter of the alphabet. "We're just here to buy an album, that's all."

He quickly flicked through the records in the crate and pressed his lips together when he found the one he was looking for. On the back of a Blue Oyster Cult record, he saw the symbol he had recognized at the Hell House.

He grabbed it and slowly walked over to Craig with Sam on his heels.

"You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything," Dean told Sam conversationally, his voice hardening toward the end. "It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult. Tell me, Craig, you into BOC or just scaring the hell out of people?"

When Craig turned around to face him and Sam, he handed the Blue Oyster Cult album to him. He took it and flipped it over, eyes flitting over the cover art, which included the symbol that was spray painted at the Hell House.

"Why don't you tell us about that house," Dean suggested. "Without lying through your ass this time."

Craig looked up at Dean for a moment. "All right," he sighed heavily. "My cousin Dana was on a break from TCU. I guess we were just bored and looking for something to do. So, I showered her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted so we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks."

"Then, we found out this guy, Murdoch, used to live there so we made up some story to go along with that," he continued. "They told people, who told other people, and then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took a life of its own."

Dean blinked at him; something about what he said was familiar.

"I mean, I thought it was funny at first, but..." Craig shook his head sadly. "That girl's dead. It was just a joke, you know? I mean, none of it was real. We just made the whole thing up, I swear!"

Sam nodded. "All right."

As they turned away from Craig to leave the record store, Dean muttered to Sam, "If none of it was real, how the fuck do you explain Mordechai?"

-

Dean was trying so hard not to smirk as he watched Sam wiggle around in his seat, trying not to scratch at his crotch. While his brother was in the shower, he had sprinkled itching powder into Sam's underwear and now he was able to watch the whole thing unfold right in front of him.

If only shortcake was here, too, he sighed mentally.

Sam was in the middle of talking to Julia on the phone, telling her his thoughts about Mordechai being a tulpa when Dean interrupted him, "Dude, what's your problem?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Sam said avoidantly.

"What's going on?" Julia's voice came from the speaker.

"Nothing," Sam assured her. "So, these tulpas...There was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard that they brought the thing to life out of thin air."

"Okay, well, there are thousands of people on the internet," Julia said thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Sam nodded, wincing as he picked at his itchy jeans. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai and then it spreads and goes online where countless people believe in the bastard."

"Wait a second," Dean spoke up. "People believe in Santa Claus so how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"

"Cause you're a bad person," Sam opened his laptop, still squirming, and pulled up a photo of the sigil that brought tulpas to life. He showed it to Dean. "And because of this. That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was."

On the phone, they could hear a thump of a book and then pages being flipped. "Okay, this book says that the sigil has been used to centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people who are on the Hell Hounds website, staring at the symbol and thinking about Mordechai...would that be enough to bring a tulpa to life?"

"It would explain why he keeps changing," Dean answered her.

"Right," Sam adjusted his jeans and added, "as the legend changes, people think different things so the legend itself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit," Dean stated, choking back his laughter as Sam started wiggling more than he had. "So, why don't we get this spirit sigil thing-y off the wall and off the website?"

"I don't think it's that simple," Julia sighed as they heard more pages being turned. "Once a tulpa is created, they take on a life of their own."

"Great," Dean grumped. "So, if he really is a thought form how the fuck are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, that's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us," Sam showed him the video Ed and Harry put up on their website. "Since they posted the footage, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "I've got an idea but we have to find a copy store."

"What are you thinking?" Julia wondered.

"We're gonna give these boys a story and change the legend," Dean told her as Sam forcefully stood up and did a weird walk to relieve himself. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I think I'm allergic to our soap or something."

Dean snickered as Julia spoke up, "What? We use hypoallergenic soap, Sam."

Dean's laughter increased as Sam did a weird lunge in the middle of the motel room. Sam immediately stood up to his full height and glowered at his older brother.

"You did this?!"

Dean couldn't talk, he was laughing so hard.

"You're a fucking jackass!"

Dean continued to laugh, standing up from his chair to dodge the attack coming his way.

As Sam chased Dean around the room, they didn't notice as Julia sighed, "All right, I'm gonna hang up now."

-

After Dean and Sam told Ed and Harry about this new legend that they found—in which Mordechai would be killed with a pistol and wrought-iron bullets—and a little prank Sam pulled on Dean—where he superglued his beer bottle to the palm of his hand—they headed back to the Hell House to kill the tulpa once and for wall.

They entered the house with their firearms drawn and slowly walked their way around, looking for any sign of Mordechai.

Dean winced as he tightened his hand around his gun. "I barely have any skin left on my palm."

Sam snickered. "I'm not touching that line with a ten-foot pole."

Dean pressed his lips together, irritated, and flashed his light straight into Sam's eyes until he flinched. Once he was satisfied that he got some sort of revenge on his little brother, he continued on through the living room and into the kitchen. "So, do you think old Mordechai's home?"

"I don't know," Sam pointed his gun at the door that led to the basement.

"Me either."

Sam and Dean whipped around at the new voice, pointing their pistols in Ed and Harry's faces.

"Woah, woah!" Ed shouted while Harry lifted his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

Sam raised his gun away from them. "What are you trying to do, get yourselves killed?"

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?"

Before either of the irritated brothers could say another word, a crash came from the basement door. They instantly went back on alert, aiming their guns back at the door.

"Oh, shit," Ed muttered from behind them, focusing his camera on the action. "Hey, guys, do you wanna—you wanna open that door for us?"

"Why don't you?" Dean dared him.

None of them even stepped closer to the basement door as Mordechai burst through, growling at them while waving his ax in the air. Dean and Sam immediately took their shots but Mordechai didn't falter. It was only after full rounds that he disappeared but not in the way they wanted him too.

Sam and Dean immediately left the kitchen to check the other rooms on the first floor.

"Wait a minute?" Ed said breathlessly. "He's gone? He's gone."

"Did you get him?" Harry asked him urgently.

"Yeah, they got him."

"No," Harry shook his head. "On camera. Did you get him on camera?"

Ed faltered. "Well, I..."

Harry grabbed the camera from him. "Let me see it, let me see it."

He flipped open the little screen but was pushed to the floor as Mordechai appeared, smashing the camera with his ax. Dean ran back into the room after hearing some loud noises and glared at them.

"Hey, didn't you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?" he barked at them.

"Of course we did," Harry answered, getting to his feet as Sam came back into the room. "But then our server crashed."

Ed nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"So, it didn't take?" Ed and Harry shook their heads at Dean's question. "These guns don't work?"

"No."

"No."

"Great," Dean sighed and turned to his brother. "Sam, any ideas?"

Sam shrugged; no ideas. None whatsoever.

"We're getting out of here," Harry spoke up.

"Yeah," Ed agreed quickly. "Great idea."

They left the kitchen, only to run into Mordechai again. They screamed and ran for the front door but it was locked and they were unable to get out. They turned to see Mordechai and followed them to the front door and was slowly advancing toward them, raising his ax.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

"The power of Christ compels you!" Ed shouted at the tulpa. "The power of Christ compels. THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU."

Any other time, what Ed was saying would make Dean laugh so hard. But, alas, now was not the time for amusement. Sam ran up to the front door and shouted at Mordechai, getting his attention.

"Hey! Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!"

While Sam and Mordechai fought and Ed and Harry ran out of harm's way, Dean found some lighter fluid in the kitchen. He quickly sprayed it all over the floor and onto the cupboards before heading into the living room to spray it there, too.

"DEAN!"

Hearing Sam's shout of help, Dean quickly grabbed a bottle of spray paint and pulled his lighter out of his pocket before running toward his brother and Mordechai.

"Hey!" he shouted at the tulpa before lighting his lighter and spraying the paint at the same time, creating a homemade blow torch.

Mordechai let Sam go and disappeared; Dean grabbed Sam and helped him run back into the living room.

"Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him? We improvise."

He showed Sam his lighter and clicked it out before throwing it onto the floor. The old wooden beams lit up immediately and Sam and Dean took off, knocking down the front door and jumping off the porch.

As they ran into the trees, Sam turned to Dean incredulously. "That's your solution?" he pointed at the flaming house. "Burn the whole damn place to the ground?"

"Well, nobody will go in anymore," Dean shrugged. "I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works."

"Well, what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Well, then, we'll just have to come back."

Sam sighed at Dean's nonchalant answer and turned back to the house. "Kind of makes you wonder," he said. "Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them."

Dean didn't answer but he thought about what Sam said as he continued to watch the house burn. It did kind of make him wonder but he couldn't really consider that. No matter if a supernatural was real just because someone believed in them, they were still killing them and saving people.

It was the family business, after all.

(Gif is not mine)

[keyofjetwolf]

GIFTENING Bonus Rounds

For each category, I included a “bonus round” question. YOU GUYS KILLED IT. I loved all the answers, but listed below are some of my particular favourites.

Haruka Tenoh is trapped in the wrong anime! Which would you have her visit next?

I want her to earth shake Kyubey out of existence, please and thank you

My bride is a mermaid. She can relate. :P

i think she would THRIVE in bodacious space pirates. gay teenage space pirates whose job is to dress up, be Dramatic, and rob the wealthy??? that shit is RIGHT up her alley

Hamtaro

Princess Tutu - where the world is finally as dramatic as her

PGSM (and Michiru is trapped with her, for REASONS)

Pokemon because everyone deserves to be happy

Any moe-style series so hijinks can ensue at her being baffled by everyone's ages

1960's Speed Racer

is is this a captcha or something i missed oh god

Free! so she can be indifferent to all the hot men and slightly uncomfortable because she still can't swim. 

Stick Haruka in a Gundam!

Dump her in Pretear or one of the Precures! It would be hilarious! She's never in the genre she wants to be!

Revolutionary Girl Utena, so she can be offended by misuse of roses.

Initial D, she will out-drive and out-drift all those guys and steal all their girls.

Evangelion. I would feel bad to watch her suffer, but it would be so, so funny for her to be the comparatively most normal person around.

Yakitake Japan! SO SHE CAN HAVE A SNACK OF DELICIOUS RIDICULOUS BREAD BEFORE THE NEXT INTERDIMENSIONAL ANIME STORM WHISKS HER AWAY.

The Holograms or the Misfits? DISCUSS

Holograms

both? both. BOTH IS GOOD

misfits bc Evil Ladies Hot

Steven and the stevens

Misfits.  How dare you make us try to think about anything in our lives.

Both, you mad fool. Those combined songs were the best.

The Misfits, their songs are better

The Misgrams: A group of girls who form a singing telegram start up company, but constantly deliver the telegrams to the wrong people.

kimber & stormer

Neither. Limp Lizards all the way. BROKEN GLASS.

I do not know what these things are

Misfits because guitar motorcycle

The Isle of Misfit Holograms

Holograms is just arguably better

I mean, I’m told the Misfits’ songs are better, but my true answer is the band Kimber and Stormer made in that big gay episode you liveblogged (checks) almost four years ago.

I've no idea what these words mean and I hope this does not make me TOO uncool.

this is about jem, right? right?? im hip i swear

Misfits, because Jasper is a member apparently

I don't know from Jem, but I mean...I certainly prefer holographic material to Glenn Danzig? So I guess there's your answer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Stingers

LIMP LIZARDS FOREVER

Senshi Band

You can make me liveblog a full series of any show you want! You also hate me. What do you have me watch?

Pick a GoT rip-off, any GoT rip-off

The Bachelor?

The Bachelor :(

depends on how much i hate you, but....probably the bachelor. quantity AND lack of quality

Critical role, it would take forever

If I were a horrible person who sought only malice?  Big Bang Theory.  Entire series.

Toddlers and Tiaras

The Mandalorian - Disney would come after you and kill keyofjetwolf just as dead as keyofnik.  We would all be very sad, you would have to go through a second round of restoring things to a new tumblr account, and your organizational heart would weep over adding yet another hosting site out of chronological order.

You are liveblogging Eva, and must discuss in full detail Shinji's emotional state at all times.

Hannity & Colmes

The Kardashians. And all of their spin offs. *kisses*

The price is right

the bachelor

Probably something with lots of romance and no friendships. Soap operas are like that, right? My college roommate used to watch General Young Light Restless Hospital of Our Lives (which one had Like and Laura?) And it was torture.

One Piece, because it's over 900 episodes so you could maybe do 10% before you die, also you will hate how the women are treated most of the time.

Fushigi Yuugi. Not only do you hate it but it also comes with you squirming when you admit to watching the whole thing. ;) 

Plus belle la vie. It's an ongoing French soap opera that has been airing five days a week since 2004, they're nearing their 4000th episode and there's no end in sight. Imagine all those hours upon hours submerged in French drama, mwahahaha!!

The Bachelor.  Or the Bachelorette, maybe - more straight dudes in that.

The Young and the Restless - IT IS THE LIVEBLOG THAT NEVER ENDS. IT WOULD OUTLAST THE INTERNET.

The entirety of the Bachelor franchise.

You can only play one game for the rest of your life. Which game would it be and why?

Kingdom Hearts Complete Collection. A) I love them. B) I beat the system and get like 10 games instead of one.

Gemcraft. This game actually takes a lifetime to finish.

Hatoful Boyfriend. It is the best game ever created. Feel it in your heart.

that's a mean question and you can't make me answer it

Pathfinder, which you could play for the rest of your life and still never finish.

Civ VI , so I can rule the world without leaving my house.

I am legitimately perturbed by this question and refuse to answer it.

Pokemon Go. I would have nothing else, but I would catch them all.

The Elder Scrolls Skyrim: I'll never run out of side-quests.

Mass Effect--it's the only way I'll get full completion. 

The dinosaur game on Chrome when the internet doesn't connect because my life is monotonous and it's a welcome relief. 

Stardew Valley. Peaceful farmer life and turning my children into doves when I'm bored with them.

Crabs Adjust Humidity

Oh my! A number of things come to mind, not one of them fit for print. Just, you know...*gestures vaguely* sex shit. 

I can't even stick to the ones I play now.

This is the worst of all possible things and I refuse to answer. 

Monopoly, I hate myself :(

Probably Minecraft! I haven't gotten into it because I know if I start I will NEVER STOP. Who would do things like build a hundred foot tall statue of Mako-chan? A-THAT'D BE ME.

the game. Of LIFE! *shrug emoji*

I don't believe I'll tell you, because I AM a salty little fish and it was HARD to cut that 11th choice off my vote.

Holligay and I are going to be the leads in a new buddy film. What's the premise? How does it end?

Be gay do crimes. Thelma and Louise. Duh. :P

I have no idea but only just surviving disaster is how it ends.

You break down in a small town during a roadtrip- your stay is full of hijinks and ends with you teaching the townsfolk the true meaning of friendship.

Doctor Holligay, Esquire, PhD, renowned Jewish femme of many talents, is assigned one Operative Jet Wolf as her bodyguard on a foreign diplomatic mission/vacation/culinary tour of the world ("same difference, shut up, narrator"). One problem: Operative Wolf needs a bodyguard herself, as the good doctor discovers when in one night her toilet is destroyed ("IT WAS A SECURITY THREAT") and Operative Wolf nearly breaks a leg falling down a small set of stairs ("THEY PUT A CLIFF OUTSIDE THE DOOR"). Worldwide shenanigans ensue as Holligay and Operative Wolf learn the true meaning of friendship, and also how to take care of themselves... by taking care of each other.

I’m not sure about the premise, but DEFINITELY it ends in murder.

Someone posted a major spoiler during one of your liveblogs. The two of you track them down seeking revenge. It turns out it was the original creator of the series trying to stop you. For some reason Holligay is a CGI badger.

It's clearly a buddy cop movie, and like all good buddy cop movies, it ends with Doc almost dying, and you saving her, and slapping her wound in the hospital as the credits roll.

It ends as it began: with Holligay roasting you.

A straight detective and her lesbian partner have to solve the case of the missing cinnamon buns.  It ends with nobody getting the guy OR the girl and you drive off into the sunset together, perps behind bars sans cinnamon buns.

I don't know what it's about but I know it will be the only movie that ever existed. 

Holligay is the lesbian chief of staff to you somehow being elected President and she's basically running the country while you're the charming face of the administration

Nerd and cowgirl meet at a bar, justifyingly murder some gross dude, go on the run from the law and have a life-changing road trip, on the way Nazis are punched

carrying a delicate object through a forest after your helicopter goes down

Thelma and Louise, but instead of dying, your deaths are clearly faked and you live on a ranch in Montana with your respective spouses and animals. One time a cop comes by the restaurant/bar you joint own with Doc and says, "You look familiar." Doc, in perfect lesbian, answers, "Jet's just got that criminal look, on account of how much she'd love to steal my cheesecake recipe. More pie?"

Queer Eye with a Straight Goy. The two of you do the show but in your own special ways.

Doc Holligay is the wild-west no-nonsense sheriff. Jet Wolf is the all-fun cyberpunk cop from the future. They punch nazis and argue about food. It ends as a tv series ala B99.

Your lives are already a buddy film, don’t get greedy.

Hands and socks.  You know how it ends.

See Grumpy Old Men for details.  How does it end?  Badly.

I can't imagine the premise, but I'm pretty sure the planet explodes.

A Coen Bros film. It ends poorly.

Wait? You're not already living this now? 

REI HINO

REI HINO

Sure. Why not?

HINO REI

<3<3<3<3

REI HINO!

Rei who? ;)

REI HINOOOOOOOOO

Plush Is being hugged by Zoisite in your banner.

MINAKO AINO

MAKOTO KINO

The best

SOCKS

MICHIRU KAIOH

It's time tooo.... REI! THAT! HINO!

sponsored by Here! curry

LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI [THIS REPEATS A LOT A LOT AND IS GLORIOUS] [...] LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES JETWOLF

(THE REAL ONE)

Isn't how you spell Makoto Kino!

THE REAL ONE™

obviously

IS NOT A RHINO

In conclusion: Rei Hino

Rei Hino is giving this Giftening finger guns

BEAUTIFUL, STUNNING, SHOW-STOPPING, TALENTED, AMAZING, WONDERFUL

Hot stuff, lights my fire, blazes it regularly. I am out of fire jokes.

PASSION FLAME, SAILOR MARS

These hot feelings are C'EEEEEST LAAAAA VIIIIIIE c'mon rei-chan why aren't you singing along

IS THE BEST (I know who I'm talking to)

Ara!

DID DOCTOR HOLLIGAY PHD NOMINATE THE OPTION OF TALKING ABOUT MICHIRU KAIOH FOR 6 HOURS!!

If Hot Pocket were to plan One Last Heist, what do you think would be his objective? What would be Mina's role in his master plan?

Master Hot Pocket seeks BREAD. His friend and loyal companion, Mina-pup, acts as a distraction, as he has learned the humans are easily distracted by cute. While she does her sworn duty as Best Friend and Cutest Goodest Girl, probably with lolling tongue and glee at all the pets she receives, he picks the locks on the newly childproofed pantry, and Master Howard H. Pocket FEASTS AS NO CAT HAS BEFORE.

Every bag of flour in Montana; Mina runs distraction with her adorable puppy eyes

Open every container, leave none unmarked. Mina is the lookout who greets whoever comes and is completely ineffective at her job.

TAKE ALL THE FLOUR. Do it straight from the source: FlourCo Inc. What does a 10-pound cat do with eighty thousand tons of flour? If you can't figure that out, there's a reason he's the brains of this outfit. Mina would obviously be the bumbling lovable distraction to security or other people.

Bread.  Mina is The Face who provides distraction to the Keepers of the Bread by walking up to them and being herself.  Mina has absolutely no idea that Hot Pocket is using her in this manner because Hot Pocket is that Machiavellian, but Mina is a pocket full of sunshine in canine form and probably would just be happy to help out.

Hot Pocket knows that no mammal of the floor believes in flour anymore. It went away a long time ago. It doesn't exist. But what he also knows is that they're wrong. A lack of opposable thumbs won't hide the truth from him. He'll find the stash, and when he does, he'll stick his paw in it. Mina, with her limited climbing skills, will lick its remains from his claw and prove his discovery. As well as provide a warm place to curl up on for the aftermath of their adventure.

His goal is to sample every edible thing he can get his teeth on. Mina pulls triple duty as step stool, distraction, and scape goat

The Silver Crystal. Mina would play the role of Sailor V.

He is getting ALL THE FLOUR. Mina is a lovable distraction.

Looting all the carbs in the pantry. mina is distraction.

mina's role would be the "dopey" but talented best friend who it looks like HP is going to betray for the sake of the plan but then it all comes together when HP mounts a dramatic rescue. i dunno i'm still in film mode from that last one.

The Holy Bread Locked Within the Cupboard.  Mina would be the distraction, but she'd forget what she was supposed to be distracting from and end up leading you to him.

I am the Void. I am the Night. I am the Darkness with no hope of dawn. The Flour trembles before me in it's bleached fluffiness. It shall not escape my chaos, which will descend upon it like the Terrors of the Deep, claws and teeth and gnashing. It will howl at my claws. It will scream for my teeth, sharp and white, stars in the night of my fur. I shall tend and tear and -- Dammit, Dog-thing! How am I supposed to be terrible and terrifying with you wagging your tail and panting at me!? Oh, you found a good warm sunbeam? I guess I can stalk stuff later. I am the Void. I shall absorb the Sun's light and warmth and bring it into my Darkness where it cannot escape...

I'm new here and don't know all the complex lore of Jetwolf(fairly sure Mina is dog), so I'm going to assume that Hot Pocket is an actual hot pocket and his heist is robbing Fort Knox using Mina as his loyal stead/get away car. Then he explodes a microwave or something.

i lik the bred

Mina as the distraction while he takes one last tastes of EVERYTHING 

objective--stealing more chips; Mina--surprise betrayal 

The scene: Mama Jet's pantry The Objective: the bag of cake flour Aunt Doc made Mama Jet buy but she's never used Mina: confused but excited escape vehicle and/or scapegoat

RAIDING THE KING ARTHUR FLOUR FACTORY. Mina is of course adorable and keeps everyone's attention while Hot Pocket swan dives into the flour like Uncle Scrooge

Hot Pocket would definitely try to steal a monument, Carmen SanDiego style. Mina, of course, is the multi-talented and super cute face of the operation.

I have no idea who Hot Pocket is

HP would try to scale the tallest building in the world. Not to steal anything, just to be up there. Mina would be the adorable diversion.

It would be to get whatever food you've left on the counter. Preferably bread. He would tell Mina that he'll give her some of she acts as a distraction. She's a good dog so she does. He's a cat so she gets no food.

Truly, truly, THE GIFTENING winner is us all.

[readyplayerhobi]

Big Bad Wolf

; Wolf Shifter!Hoseok x Rabbit Shifter!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, smut, teeny tiny angst

; Word Count: 11.7k

; Warnings: Possessive behaviour, dom!Hobi, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, thigh riding, impregnation kink, breeding kink, sex toy use, biting,

; Synopsis: It’s been months since Hoseok marked you in the frenzy of his heat, and he’s been content and happy with you ever since. But with the stress of college ending and the fact the bond remains uncompleted, what happens when you go into your own heat?

; Wolf Shifter Hoseok Trilogy

Run Little Rabbit

Daddy’s Little Peanut

Big Bad Wolf

; RLR Drabbles

Choices

Concerns

-

Hoseok enjoyed holding your hand. Maybe it wasn’t something that an Alpha wolf like himself should admit to, but he was confident enough in himself that he would happily own his little moments of happiness. Holding your hand was like when he took a deep breath of forest air. Relaxing and comforting.

Which was why he always held it whenever he could, letting his fingers brush against yours slowly before he maneuvered his own into position, interlinking them with yours. If you were both sitting on the couch, or laying on his bed, he’d idly let his thumb rub the soft skin on the back of your hand, tiny thrills of euphoria sparking through him while his wolf huffed with contentment.

He was holding your hand right now, and it felt wonderful and grounding. Particularly when his life didn’t feel very grounded lately. College was ending and with it had come his final exams. Not only that, but he had the worry of his Pack leadership looming over his head and the silent panic over the fact you hadn’t completed the bond yet, nor had you given an indication of whether you would.

It was getting to be a little too much for him, and Hoseok wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Alpha’s were the wolves the rest of the Pack came to with their worries and stresses. But then, who did the Alpha go to when they were equally stressed?

He couldn’t vocalise his worry about the bond to you, as he was anxious that it would seem like he was pressuring you. Something as long term and permanent as a mating bond was not something to be pressured, and he would never forgive himself if you gave in to him just because you thought it was what he wanted.

But the other subjects? Well, he’d finally reached his limit and was currently spewing them out to you in a fit of tension and catharsis. He’d picked you up from your room before you’d both headed over to your favourite coffee shop, ordering a caramel macchiato for you and a cappuccino for himself.

He hadn’t admitted to you that this was his third in only an hour and a half, which was probably why he’d immediately dragged you out for a walk and also couldn’t stop talking. Honestly, Hoseok knew better than to drink too much caffeine, it drove his wolf wild.

“Hoseok...Hoseok, sweetheart. Stop,” You pull him to a stop, tugging on his hand lightly until his feet finally stop and he’s looking back at you with uncomfortable eyes. Your stature was so much smaller than his, reflecting the tiny and delicate rabbit that you shifted into and it made him want to growl with protectiveness.

Just wrap you up in his arms and protect you from harm or anyone who might want to hurt you. Like that cheetah guy who was walking along the path towards you, long legs eating up the ground while red Beats headphones adorn his blonde and black hair. Immediately, Hoseok is glaring as the hair on his neck stands on end, his inner wolf puffing up and growling.

He doesn’t even realise that his throat is vibrating with the growls from his chest, nor of the waves of dominant energy that are rolling off him. The cheetah guy stops suddenly, nose twitching before he looks up, eyes that are shifted golden widening at the sight of the pissed off Alpha wolf in front of him.

He glances behind him before taking a few steps back, turning on the spot and heading back the way he’d come. Looking back at you, he frowns as he takes in the way your shoulders hunch together and your arms wrap around your waist, eyes wide.

For months now, you’ve had his mark on your neck which has in turn meant you have slowly become less panicked about his dominant displays. You still freak over them, particularly if he’s angry, but you’re a lot less afraid than you had been. If you chose to complete the bond, then over the years you’d truly become almost immune to him.

Until then, he had to watch with a sinking heart as you shrank back from him slightly. Sighing deeply, he reaches out and wraps his arms around your shoulders, tugging you into a gentle hug as he makes sure to keep your hair out of his cup, taking in the scent of you deeply and sighing with satisfaction.

“Thumper, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He murmurs into the soft strands, nose nuzzling you unintentionally as his wolf whines quietly, demanding he make his mate happy again. You’re frozen for a moment before your arms wrap around his lean waist, head resting against his chest and he has to swallow the noise of gratification he wants to let out.

“Why did you get angry at that guy? He wasn’t even doing anything.” You ask, pulling away before taking his hand again and moving him along. Your pace is much slower now but he just enjoys the moment, the warm fuzziness running through his veins at being near you.

Or maybe that was the caffeine. Who knows?

Chewing his lip for a moment, he takes another swallow of warm cappuccino before throwing the empty cup into the next bin he sees. He takes a deep, fortifying breath before he can get the words out. But he has to. You’re his mate, you’ll understand.

“I’m a little...stressed. About exams. And after college,” Hoseok pauses for a moment, letting the air fill with comfortable silence as he swings your arm slowly. “I got an offer from the Alliance of Wolves last week. They want me to take over the pack at Mancita City. Apparently the pack Alpha died there three months ago and they’ve gone without. I just...don’t know if I should...or if I can.” He practically mumbles out that, trying to ignore the way his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

You let out a tiny breath, your fingers tightening around his before you’re easing him to a stop once more. He looks down at you, running a hand through his hair before moving to stroke a finger down your cheek gently. You give him the sweetest smile and he wants so badly to kiss you.

“Okay, first of all. You’ve been studying really hard and you’re crazy smart, you’ll do great in your exams. Secondly, you’ll be a great Packmaster at Mancita City! That’s like...a huge honour right? And so young!” Your bright smile makes him feel lighter than air, his stomach fizzing slightly as he presses his lips together to stop a responding smile.

“It is but...I’d have to offer Pack membership to everyone here. They’re all pretty much graduating with us as well, but what if they don’t want to go? I mean...they might want to move somewhere else and join a different Pack. And what if I’m not good at it?” He spies a bench and pulls you over to it, sitting down before pulling you into his lap despite all the space on the iron rungs.

You scoff lightly, rolling your eyes before your fingers begin to trail through his hair lazily. He has to grit his teeth slightly to stop himself from almost purring like a damn cat shifter. “Jung Hoseok, what exactly do you mean when you think you won’t be a good leader? You’re a damn good Alpha here, even if you do scare me more than a xenomorph sometimes.”

He scowls at that, leaning forward to lightly bite at your shoulder at the reminder of those horrible films you’d both watched. It was humiliating to admit an Alpha wolf had nightmares about stupid, fictional creatures.

“I’m picking the movie next time...and it’s not being a horror. It’s going to be a nice Disney film!” Hoseok states, sticking his lower lip in a cute pout at you. Your reaction is just to roll your eyes, making him smile proudly. “Anyway, there’s a difference between running a college Pack with only like...20 or 25 people in it. A city Pack though? That’s...that’s real responsibility.”

You sigh quietly, the sound full of doubt and he knows you don’t really understand the big deal. He’d never really discussed it properly with you, mainly because he hadn’t expected to be asked to do something like this. In all honesty, Hoseok had expected to probably take over a small town in the middle of nowhere, which had also had him stressing about whether you’d be happy or not.

But this? This was the big leagues, and while he felt proud to be considered dominant enough to be given such a high position, it would bring a lot of headaches and tension.

“A city can have thousands and thousands of people in it right? Which means that a city Pack, also has a ridiculously high number. I looked into it, and Mancita City Pack had 112 members, most of them older too. Some of them left after the leader died, choosing to go somewhere else. But still...that’s a lot of people. And not only that, but as a City Pack leader, I’d also be on the City Board and have to represent the voice of the wolves. I didn’t...I don’t…” He lifts his hands up in frustration, brow creasing as he struggles to get across his concerns.

Hoseok knows that he should take this job. That in reality, someone like him is needed to control over that many wolves. And he knows that his parents would be unbelievably proud of him. A pup becoming the Alpha of a big Pack was most wolf shifter’s dream, and he was fulfilling it.

They’d be disappointed in him if they found out he didn’t take it. And he was already disappointing them anyway by claiming you as a mate. They didn’t know yet, he didn’t want to tell them until you’d responded to his claim, but they wouldn’t be happy.

His parents adhered to the ‘prey are prey and predators are predators’ philosophy. Which meant that they would never understand a predator mating with a prey shifter. They’d likely be disgusted by his mate choice, and he wanted to shield you from their prejudice so badly.

“Hoseok, it’s your choice...but I think you’ll make a great leader. You’re young and you have lots of great ideas. You have the most mellow personality of any predator shifter I’ve met, yet you’re firm with your Pack and they respect you. I think you should take it, it gives you a guaranteed job right out of college right?” You smile at him, running a thumb over his lower lip almost absentmindedly.

He lets you, appreciating the way you seem to take comfort out of the small movement while he in turn enjoys the feeling. It’s only when his tongue flicks out to wet his lips and catches on your pad that you pull it away, the quiet sound of your heart beat increasing slightly.

“I’ll figure it out. It’s just...everything coming to a head you know? Anyway, we should go back...I have a final tomorrow that I need to study for tonight.” You don’t query about coming with him, as you seem to spend more time with him than not lately. Though being with him also means being with the Pack, and you seem to enjoy the company of the other wolves compared to your lonely home.

“Okay...can we order pizza?” You query, eyes brightening up adorably as you jump off his lap. The movement takes you a little higher than what normal shifters would do, and he lets out a soft huff of amusement as your rabbit nature accidentally lets itself out. He doesn’t answer verbally, just takes your hand once more and nods, letting you practically speed walk him back to the Pack House.

-

It only takes one deep inhalation once you both enter the house to let him know that most of the Pack are out. One of the members he can definitely smell is the delightful Park Jimin, who comes bounding down the stairs when he hears the door close. As Hoseok tugs off his shoes, he’s struck by an amused thought that the young wolf acts more like a dog sometimes.

He’d get outraged if he heard that thought.

Shaking his head, Hoseok watches with a smile as Jimin launches himself at you, knocking you off balance enough to cause you to stumble backwards with a tinkling laughter. Your arms come up to wrap around Jimin’s waist and for a quick moment, he simply admires the relationship you share with your best friend.

But then his eyes focus on the touch between Jimin and you, how there’s barely any space between your chests and suddenly his own chest is rumbling quietly. The soft sound is loud enough for both of them to pick up though, and he watches with a touch of shame while Jimin’s face falls and he cowers ever so slightly, sensing the disapproval and unhappiness from his Alpha.

Without even realising it, Hoseok’s hand is on your arm and he’s gently pulling until you’re wrapped in his arms, his chin rubbing against your hair while Jimin watches with raised brows. “Hoseok...are you okay?”

The silver wolf sounds vaguely concerned and Hoseok doesn’t quite understand why till he realises that he’s scent marking you. Which is dumb, because you always smell like him because of the mark on your neck, not to mention the amount of time you spend together.

He pulls away with a frown, cheeks flushing as he apologises and bows his head to Jimin. There was no reason to get aggressive and protective of you around Jimin. He was one of your closest friends and one of Hoseok’s most loyal Pack members, he never felt jealous around him.

There’s no more conversation as he watches Jimin and you have a silent conversation before you begin to head up the stairs. As you do so, Jimin casually mentions that he’d already ordered food for those in the house, leaving Hoseok to nod awkwardly.

The look you give Hoseok when you get into his room makes him squirm in place, fingers nervously playing with themselves while his shoulders hunch. You were the only person allowed to see him like this, awkward and unsure of himself. You were also the only person who’s opinion he truly gave a crap about, and his wolf was whining desperately at the disappointed look on your face.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing that today. Maybe I’m just...stressed.” He says quietly, shoulders shrugging limply. You watch him for a moment before the corners of your lips kick up into a smile, sending a quick spike of warmth through him. Reaching out, he takes your hands and gives you a sweet smile in turn, leaning forward to catch your lips quickly.

You respond immediately, shaking off his hand to rest it on his cheek before his tongue flicks across the seam of your lips. It only takes seconds before you’re opening for him, allowing him entrance which he takes almost greedily.

Dipping his tongue into your mouth, he explores languidly, enjoying the way you still give him a brief fight for dominance before acquiescing to his demands. One of the things he loves about you so much, is how you are perhaps the most submissive person he’s ever met and yet when it comes to sex, you’ll still fight him for a few moments. Every time, even though you fall before him.

If it were anyone else, his wolf would snap and snarl, but instead he enjoys the little games you play.

Your hands soon move down his throat, the touches featherlight and sending a shiver through his spine before he feels them stroke down his chest and stomach. It’s only when the hem of his shirt begins to be tugged upwards, revealing his toned abdomen, that he stops, pulling away with a wince while he cups your face.

“I’m sorry little rabbit, but I can’t tonight. I really do need to study, it’s my last exam tomorrow morning and...I really need to pass. I’m so sorry.” He practically begs, throat husky from the kiss. You watch him with slight annoyance in your eyes, brow creasing and he gets the unusual urge to get on his knees. Immediately he pushes it away, knowing it’s only because he doesn’t want to make you angry.

You’re silent for a moment, and it frustrates him that he can’t figure out what you’re feeling from the carefully blank slate that is your face. But then you smile genially, pushing up onto your tiptoes to press a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips before you pat his stomach lightly.

“It’s okay, go be geeky.” Your innocent smile turns mischievous and his eyes narrow in response, snapping his teeth at you without any intent behind it. There’s no response from you though, instead you simply walk over to his bed and crawl on top of it, grabbing his PS4 controller and turning both the console and television on.

A wistful sigh leaves him as he sits at his desk, shoulders slumping as he gazes over at you with futile want. He’s never felt more annoyed about being an Alpha than right now. If he was more like some of the other wolves in his Pack, he’d have given in easily to your beautiful eyes and slim body, telling himself that he could study in the morning.

But no, he’s a good wolf.

The next few hours pass slowly for him as he rewrites out his notes, hoping the addition of writing the information out will help to imprint it into his brain while he watches over recorded lectures to make sure he’s not missing anything out. Everyone had laughed at him when he picked History of Prey and Predator Relations as his final subject for the semester, but he thought it was important.

Unsurprisingly, predator shifters were a little pretentious and often looked down on prey shifters, even if they said they didn’t. Which was why he was the only predator in his class, which meant he had to take scent suppressants before every class to stop them from freaking out.

But as an Alpha, it was crucial for him to understand the nuances of prey and predator relationships. To understand why there were prey who lived in towns of their own, such as his mate’s family. It was his own history, but it was also the history of his mate and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to make any accidental faux pas from ignorance.

What had surprised him was much he’d enjoyed the class, and he’d recommended the rest of his Pack to consider taking it. Which was why the university was a little bemused at the fact that next year’s class had a high number of wolf shifters professing interest.

It was midnight by the time he felt ready to go to bed, his neck aching and stiff. Rolling his shoulders slowly, he let out a deep sigh before closing the lid of his MacBook and shuffling all his loose papers into his notebook.

Standing, he stretches and lets out a deep groan before looking over at the bed, heart immediately turning to mush at the sight. He’d been so involved in his studies that he hadn’t noticed the TV going quiet, but he can’t help but smile as he looks you over.

The controller is rested on your stomach, one hand remaining on it while your other hand lay next to your head. Legs are spread in awkward looking positions and your neck is resting rather uncomfortably from the pillows you’d propped up. Honestly, he doesn’t know you’d fallen asleep in that position.

Chuckling to himself, he heads over and takes the controller, turning everything off before turning back to you. He carefully tugs your clothes off before grabbing a shirt from his closet and maneuvering you into it. Once the pillows are in a normal position, he quickly sheds his own clothes and crawls into the bed with you, marvelling at how a prey shifter seems to sleep like a log.

But as he curls up next to your warm body, you let out a soft, sleepy noise before shuffling closer to him and resting your forehead against his chest. He smiles at it, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your soft hair before drifting off himself.

-

Hoseok’s final goes better than he expected and he’s practically bouncing with energy and happiness when he sees you waiting on a bench outside his class. Because of his scent suppressant, you don’t notice him properly until he’s almost on you but you give him the brightest, prettiest smile when you finally see him.

“Hey Thumper! I’m do-mmpf!” His words disappear when you suddenly leap onto him, his arms quickly moving to support your thighs as he staggers backwards from the force of you. He can’t say anything as you’re kissing him suddenly, hands cupping his face firmly as your tongue practically forces his mouth open.

He lets you with almost zero resistance, brow creasing as both his wolf and him practically freeze in confusion. It’s probably the most submissive Hoseok has ever been, and it’s only when you let out a low moan that his senses come to him, slowly pushing you away until your feet drop to the floor.

Hoseok has to physically push you away when you keep an almost octopus like grip on his head and he gasps loudly as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Err….hi?” Quite honestly, he’s not entirely sure what to do or say. You’ve never been a huge PDA person as it attracts attention to you, which often sets off your instincts.

And yet you’ve practically just tried to eat him alive in front of everyone from his class, which leads to his cheeks flushing a rosy tint when he spies the shocked eyes from everyone else. Surprisingly though, they’re not looking at him but at you and he frowns, grabbing your hand before pulling you along quickly.

“Let’s get lunch hmm?” He says, voice tense at their looks. You make an acknowledging hum to him and as you both walk along, you seem to plaster yourself to his side. In fact, he has to let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, you’re that close to him. It’s almost unnerving, how quiet you remain despite his attempts to start conversations.

As you both enter your usual diner, he muses to himself to try and figure out what’s wrong. Maybe you were just really excited about finishing college or something? Your last exam had been three days ago, and you were only staying on campus to be with him.

A quick nod to Cathy, the waitress that everyone knows well in this diner, is all Hoseok needs before you’re heading to your usual booth, which is thankfully empty. He slides onto the red leather bench, pausing slightly as you follow him and practically curl up in his lap, despite the fact you can’t even actually reach his lap.

Okay, there’s definitely something going on. You only sit next to him when you both come with everyone else, otherwise you sit opposite him. Despite his pouts, you told him that it was easier to talk to him if he was opposite you, so this was weird.

Hoseok normally just got a giant stack of pancakes here, smothered in maple syrup with a pile of bacon on the side. But today he feels like celebrating the end of his college life and so grabs the menu, intending to see if you wanted to share a vomit inducing meal. Vegetarian options for you of course.

Or at least, that’s what he intends until he suddenly feels your hand on his thigh, causing him to choke on his own spit. His loud and frantic coughing is interrupted when you begin to stroke his leg, long and slow movements while the tips of your fingers slide down his inner thigh, causing him to shudder.

“What are you doing!” He hisses desperately, eyes frantically flicking to everyone else in the diner. It’s a damn good job he’s taken the suppressants, as he doesn’t even want to imagine what scents he’d be giving off otherwise right now.

“You’ve finished your exam now Hobi...you promised.” You whine quietly, shuffling even closer to him before you nuzzle your face into his neck, wet lips trailing over the sensitive skin there. He has to bite his lip really hard to stop the moan from leaving his mouth.

“Excuse me...Hoseok,” A meek and timid voice calls out, causing Hoseok to shake his head and desperately try to push you away. He looks at Cathy with wide eyes before frowning as he takes in her carefully arranged face. She looks uncomfortable, and he doesn’t really understand why as he’s pretty sure he’s still got a few more hours of suppressant to work. The only thing he can think is because of how you’re acting.

He gives a quick smile, fully in the knowledge that it usually helps to put others at ease. Cathy’s another rabbit shifter, but she’s been working this job for so long that it often seems like she’s near enough immune to the predator shifters. It’s only when he accidentally loses control of himself that she flinches, but that’s not often.

Only when Jimin purposefully pisses him off in here.

“I’m sorry Cathy, I think she’s just...excited at us both finishing college.” He gives you a quick nudge to try and get you to apologise too, but instead you’re just staring up at him through hooded eyes, pupils wide with need as you pout.

“I can’t smell you Hobi.” You whine softly, the sound almost wolf like and he stares in frustration, wondering why you’re acting like this.

“It’s not that Hoseok, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Cathy gives him a tentative smile while he stares, jaw dropping. He starts to splutter a response, recognising that you were being a bit handsy but you’d stop! She shakes her head. “She’s in heat and it’s making everyone uncomfortable.”

Hoseok stares at her for a moment with no comprehension, brows slowly coming together in confusion before he looks down at you. He takes you in, noting that once you’ve caught his attention you start to bite your lip and press your chest to his arm harder.

“No...she’s not...I mean...no?” He sounds unsure of himself, and he doesn’t particularly like that. “I’m her mate! Well...I’m hers...I’d recognise that? I can’t smell any heat on her?” Hoseok inhales deeply at that, not understanding why he can’t smell what’s obviously setting everyone else off.

Until he suddenly realises. The scent suppressants. They work both ways. Anyone who scents Hoseok right now would just take in his basic scent, no dominance or overwhelming wolf. But it also dulls his senses, so all he can smell is you. Not your rabbit, and certainly not your heat.

Realisation hits him like a freight train then and he lets out a loud groan, slapping his face as it all comes together. Today is evidently day one of your heat, given the way you’ve been trying your hardest to mount him right here. But yesterday would have been your body getting ready, which explains why he kept getting overly possessive over you and why pulling away from you had been so hard.

He was an idiot.

“I’m sorry, I’ll take her home.” He whispers, giving a pained smile to Cathy who nods before leaving quickly. It takes a little bit of pushing to get you out of the booth, and he has to practically run to the door to make you follow him, all the while giving apologetic looks to the other diners who all watch you intently.

“Okay, come on little rabbit. Let’s get you home. Really quick.” He says, wondering how he’s supposed to do that when you’re practically climbing him like a tree. To say he’s mortified at the way people are staring is to underestimate his feelings. You’re not a fan of PDA, but you’re completely comfortable with sex and heats.

Hoseok on the other hand? Well, he’s a wolf and wolves don’t really like to talk sex. You liked to call him a prude, the way he’d clam up in front of others. But sex was personal and intimate! The sheer thought of public sex made him want to fold up like an origami crane.

So this, this was just...horrible. Particularly as he couldn’t even fucking smell you to get turned on by it all!

“Hobi...Hobi please...pleeeease.” You whine into his ear, licking at his throat while your hands tug desperately at his shirt. He tries to walk along, running his hands along your waist reassuringly while he apologises to you repeatedly. This has to be hurting, you’re probably hurting and it upsets him.

But then he remembers the day after his heat had finished, when you’d both been in this very park. And he looks down at you with a smile. He’s never been the one being chased, and he wonders if he can run fast enough to outrun you.

“Thumper...I want you to close your eyes and count for ten seconds, okay?” He says with a smile, pressing kisses to your face and watching as you get an almost dreamy expression, nodding happily. Your eyes close as he asks, causing a ribbon of pleasure at your submissiveness to him, before he presses your hands to them to make sure they stay closed. A quick kiss for each hand is given before he quietly steps away, his own hands out in case you cheat.

“Start counting.” You begin immediately, the words loud and filled with shaking need. The first syllable is all he needs to start running, sprinting down the path and towards the Packhouse faster than he’s ever run in human form before. His wolf is exuberant and he has the strongest urge to howl, excited to be playing with his mate but also expectant of the sex that’s soon to follow.

You don’t seem to notice his absence thankfully, and it’s only once you reach zero that he hears your exclamation of surprise even from here. A quick look over his shoulder lets him see your now tiny form take off after him and he can’t stop the smile spreading on his face, nor the whoop of laughter as he thanks everything that he has longer strides than you.

It’s because of the sheer speed he’s going at that he practically breaks the door down, almost falling onto his hands and knees as he skids into the house. There’s a few Pack members in the living room, sat around the couches as a film plays while bowls of popcorn sit in front of everyone. They all look at him with wide eyes as he stands there, gasping for air before pointing out the door.

“My mate is in heat, so...if you don’t want to listen to that for a week then I’d recommend leaving! I’m so sorry!” He calls out before sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he hears your lighter footsteps following him quickly.

The house is big enough that they don’t have to leave if they don’t want to, and some of the submissive ones probably won’t as they aren’t likely to be affected by you. Those who are a bit more dominant probably will though, as he presumes that you’re probably giving off an unbelievably alluring scent.

Damn his exam!

Hoseok only just manages to get into his room before you’re barreling in after him, almost falling onto the bed while he closes the door and presses the lock firmly. Taking gulping breaths, he turns his gaze to you and swallows at the sheer lust in your eyes.

Good gods, he was about to get the best sex of his fucking life.

“Little rabbit.” He coos quietly, deepening his voice to the level that he knew sent shudders through you. “Is someone feeling a little turned on?” At the words you’re mewling with lust, hands clenching and unclenching by your sides while he notes the darkened patches of your yellow shirt, the heat literally getting you warm and sweating with desire.

“Come here sweetheart,” His fingers crooks to you and you practically bound over to him, latching yourself onto his front and rubbing your face all over his chest. Wandering hands cause him to let out an ‘oof’ as you grab his ass, tugging his hips into your own before you’re straining on your toes to reach his neck, pretty pink tongue licking a trail of craving along his throat.

Your desire for him has his wolf practically howling in pride, but your assertiveness soon sets him off and a low rumble vibrates through his chest. Taking your hands, he lifts them up before dipping his head down to catch your errant lips with his own before pulling away, smirking as you chase after him.

“Little bunny, you know better than to try to take control right?” His voice is slightly condescending, which combined with his raised brow has you pouting and lowering your head, nodding with a pout. Inhaling deeply, a soft groan leaves him at the scent of the liquid passion that’s obviously pooling between your legs given how your thighs clench repeatedly, and he’s happy to note that he can at least smell that.

“Does my little rabbit need my help?” Hoseok taunts, grinning when you keen and try to push your hips forward, despite the fact your hands are keeping you held away. He takes pity on you and lets go, noting with pleased surprise that you begin to tear your clothes off as quickly as possible before you slam to your knees in front of him, whining quietly.

“Hoseok, please. Please Hoseok. Please Hobi, please fuck me.” You whisper, almost panting from the heat driven need that’s coursing through your body. Before he can even respond though, you’re crawling forward and nuzzling your face into his legs, face rubbing against the harsh fabric of jeans while your back arches. The movement means that you’re presenting your ass as best you can to him, in the universally recognised symbol of ‘please fuck me now’.

A deep, full bodied groan leaves his throat at the sight and he crouches down, a hand cupping your face to pull your mouth towards his as he kisses you hard. “Bed.” Is all he can get out, the syllables gruff and overflowing with lust.

He’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t get turned on quick enough for you given he can’t scent you properly, but he’s pleased to note that what he can smell, combined with your submissive offerings, has him walking awkwardly with a full erection already.

Now, whether he can keep this up for five or six days is another matter, but he’s prepared for that.

Since being with you, he’d done research into rabbit shifter heats to make sure he’s ready, particularly given how wrecked you had him after his own heat. Which is why he knew that there would be no knotting on his behalf - he did it often in normal sex with you but there was a chance of pregnancy here, even if it was unbelievably slim because of the prey/predator differences - and that he had needed to buy in support to give his dick a rest.

So...hopefully he was prepared.

You follow his command eagerly, eyes lighting up with excitement as you practically scramble onto his bed. He goes to say something though when he sees you begin to present already and he groans quietly, seeing the practically seeping entrance to your pussy winking at him from between your legs while your bitingly gorgeous ass wriggles to attract his attention.

Boy, did it get his attention.

“God baby, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs wistfully, reaching out and running his hand along the smooth skin as he admires you even more. His touch makes you shiver and he simply watches as you practically undulate underneath him, gasping pants tinged with a whine.

“Hoseok please...please fuck me. Oh god please.” Crawling onto the bed himself, he props himself up against his headboard, fluffing up the pillows, before opening his arms and grinning. It takes no time at all for you to practically leap into them, legs straddling one thigh and letting him get a delicious view of your already engorged clit.

He doesn’t get chance to do anything though as your mouth catches his almost viciously. Grunting, he immediately takes over and kisses you with a need that pales in comparison to your own. It’s wet and messy, not even remotely refined and it has him straining in his pants.

Particularly when you begin to grind your hips against his jean clad thigh, the harsh friction of the fabric against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves has you keening into his mouth while your fingers grip his shoulders so tightly. He struggles for a moment to take control back, mind flying in a hundred directions before he grips your firm ass cheeks tightly, controlling the rhythm of your slow grinds.

It’s while he does this that he simulates fucking you with his mouth, sliding his tongue slowly in and out in a way that has your thighs tightening up around his own. It’s slow and sensual, and has to stop himself from grinding his own hips against you.

Pulling away slightly, he takes in the sight of your puffy lips and glazed over eyes with pride before he leans forward, making sure to keep direct eye contact while he idly dances his tongue along your lower lip before grazing his teeth over the vulnerable flesh.

Your pupils are huge now, the colour of your irises almost gone but he still spots the deep, wooden brown that gives away that your eyes have shifted. His always used to freak you out at first, but yours are actually kind of cute. He’s never seen it before.

As he keeps that intense eye contact, noses touching, he slowly sucks your lower lip into his mouth, tongue playing at the edge before he lets it go slowly. It’s only then that he breaks the link, his nose nudging along the soft skin of your cheek while his open mouth blazes a trail along your jawline, dipping down into the exposed expanse of your throat.

He likes your throat. It’s probably a predator thing, but he enjoys seeing his mark there. He likes to bruise it as well, making sure everyone knows that you’re his and you’re taken care of. It makes him feel bad when he comes to himself, but you tell him that you like it and don’t mind.

He also likes to touch it, but he never attempts to simulate choking of any kind, even if he’d love to try. Your very nature will never let that happen, and he wouldn’t think of abusing your trust like that. It would take a deep, deep trust for a rabbit to let a wolf so something like that.

But still, he gets to admire it and play as much as he dare. Which is why he’s tonguing along the velvety skin, feeling each indentation of muscle and tendon while hearing the rush of blood through your artery. It’s only here that he actually gets to scent a weak version of your heat, the smell still enough to have his wolf snapping.

“Oh little rabbit, you smell fucking amazing.” He grunts out, biting down lightly over his own mark. It’s a sensitive area for mates, and you react exactly like you always do, crying out while your body shudders from the sensation. Only this time, the reaction is even more intense and he realises with a start that you’re already orgasming, each grind of your clit against his thigh causing a high pitched whine to leave you.

In fact, he’s left to lick at your neck in disbelief, wondering how on earth you were this sensitive? He hadn’t read anything about heat sensitivity, but maybe you had it. He liked it, he decided. Even if he did have a sticky, wet patch on his jeans, but what man wouldn’t enjoy that?

“Oh, good girl. And I haven’t even touched you properly!” He crows in delight, grinning broadly before he’s shifting his hands under your ass. A quick flex of his arms and he has your back resting firmly against the pillows, kneeling back to take a look at what he has to work with.

Already, you’re eagerly spreading your legs for him and lifting your hips up invitingly, despite the orgasm you’ve literally just had. It’s almost like it never happened, as you bite your lip while your hands stroke at your waist and breasts. “Hoseok. I want your cock Hoseok. Please, make me feel good.” The breathy words are hard to resist, but he knows he has to pace himself.

“You will little rabbit, you’ll get my cock don’t worry. I just have to take care of you first, right?” Hoseok states, teeth flashing before he leans down. The scent of you is intoxicating here and he doesn’t even bother to try and keep in the moan of want. Your thighs are glistening from your excitement, the sticky liquid trickling from your drenched core to coat your ass cheeks and he sighs happily.

“So damn wet.” He murmurs, nosing along your pubic bone and letting his breath hit your clit teasingly. It has you wiggling and he presses a firm hand to your stomach, keeping you in place before he gives you one, long lick from your soaked entrance, all the up to your needy bud.

He gets a lot of your essence on his tongue as he goes, before swallowing with pleasure. His tongue licks at his mouth before he’s pressing it flat to the little nub, moving it in slow circles before sucking it into his mouth. The flesh is almost scorching hot and delicious, but it’s your reactions that really get him going.

You’re crying out loudly, hands fisting the sheets before moving up to the pillows, trying desperately to grab at something your body isn’t sure it wants. It only takes a few more long licks and sucks before your hand is tightening in his hair, the grip smarting and he grunts lightly at the sensation, sucking so hard that it has to be borderline painful for you.

Glancing up to look at your face, he feels a flood of satisfaction roll through his body at the expression of sheer ecstasy he sees. Biteable lips are spread open while your eyelashes flutter over your cheeks as your eyes remain closed, soft whimpers of pleasure escaping.

Each press of his lips to your clit has your thighs clenching, and when his tongue dips down into your pussy, he feels the muscles there tightening in desperation for something to fill you up and he can’t help but smirk. The sheer amount of wetness leaking from you has his cheeks and chin soaked, but Hoseok enjoys the feeling and tries to encourage it more, tongue fucking you the way he knows you love.

But it’s not enough, and it doesn’t take long before you’re whining in annoyance while your hips overpower his hand. He chuckles, pulling away slightly to lick at his lips before pressing a wet kiss to your inner thigh. “Okay little rabbit, okay. I get it, not so submissive when you’re not getting what you want hmm?”

“Hoseok, please. Please use your fingers or anything, god just please fill me with something.” You pant out, and he watches with fascination as your entrance practically winks at him with the agony of not being penetrated yet.

“Let’s fill you up little bunny, hmm?” He whispers, sliding two fingers into your practically sopping pussy and feeling a bloated sense of pride at the long and breathy whine of satisfaction that leaves you. If this was normal sex, Hoseok would play with you and explore the delightfully wet and warm channel, but he knows that you’re not in the mood for that today.

And so instead, he begins to finger you at a furiously pace, his arm tensing repeatedly and watching as you gasp out with eyes wide open. A slight curve has the tips of his fingers brushing against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves on your vagina walls, each movement causing a spasm of your limbs.

It’s almost lewd, in fact no - it is lewd how unbelievably wet you were and how drenched you get once he starts. Each movement of his hand produces a squelching sound while more of your juices begins to trickle past your entrance with each pull.

The scent is overwhelming even to him now, and he lets out a frustrated moan at the fact that he can’t smell you like normal. Still, his hard on is unbelievable and he wants to palm himself so badly. But if he does that, he knows he’ll bring your attention to it and he doesn’t want that yet.

“Do you want my tongue? Do you want me to suck on that pretty clit of yours till you’re tightening around my fingers like a good girl?” You shudder at that, obviously pleased with the idea while a low keen leaves you.

“Please Hoseok, please. Make me feel good, please.” If he were under his own heat, or even if this were just normal sex, he’d be more demanding of you. He’d tease and push until you were almost crying with need, but the sheer frustration on your face combined with the lack of full sentences was letting him know very clearly that he would only be able to get away with so much this time.

It would be cruel to make you wait when in a heat frenzy, so instead, he’d just focus on making you cry with orgasms.

Which was why he didn’t say anything further, instead just made an affirmative noise before swooping down between your legs. His tongue played along your pussy like his fingers played the piano, soft and gentle before striking up a furiously quick pace.

The combination of his mouth and the constant, incessant stroking of his fingers inside your velvety smooth walls had you reaching your peak quicker than he’d ever got you there. Tiny tremors began to take over your body, thigh muscles twitching around his shoulders while your stomach heaved with the effort of controlling your breath.

It only took a particularly rough thrust of his hand and an extra hard suck on your clit to push you over that precipice, ragged cries escaping your mouth while your hips flexed against him relentlessly. But as delightful as it was to watch you cum, it was even better to feel you cum.

And the vice-like, rhythmical grip of your pussy on his fingers had him groaning while his own hips pressing into the bed for relief. Each fluttering grasp of your walls against his fingers just made him think of what you would feel like around his cock.

High pitched whining let him know you were delving into over-stimulated territory, and he made soft cooing noises while he pulled away slowly, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and enjoying the slick he left there. Removing his fingers was even more rewarding, and he admired the way your excitement stuck his fingers together before stringing apart.

A contented hum left him as he sucked them into his mouth, his tongue swiping up every inch of your taste he could. It’s only when he focuses back on your face that he notices the hungry look in your eyes already, practically glowing in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Does my little rabbit want more already?” He purrs, raising a brow as he looks down at the slickness that almost drips from you. There’s not a hint of resistance or shyness as you nod at him, teeth biting at already sore lips and he tuts softly.

Leaning over you, he pulls your lip away before sucking on it soothingly, letting his tongue lave over any hurts; all the while his eyes are focused directly on you. When you strain to catch his mouth in a kiss, he simply pulls away and kneels there, grinning at the sight of you naked, fucked out and yet needy while he remains fully clothed.

“I bought something for you little bunny, do you want to see?” Hoseok teases playfully, leaning down to nip at the soft skin of your inner knee before moving off the bed to his closet. When he comes back, he sees that you’ve raised yourself onto your elbows and are watching him with an intent gaze.

It’s almost predatory, which is particularly amusing given it’s you.

“What is it? It better be something I want otherwise I’ll be disappointed in you for ruining the moment.” You grunt out, your heat partially satiated for the moment to allow a little more coherent thought to take place, even if it does make his wolf snap. But when he pulls out the magical items from the bag and lays them on the bed, your pupils expand immediately and your heat washes over you.

His suppressants must be dying off, because he’s pretty sure he’s starting to smell it and oh god, does he want to fuck you into the mattress till you can’t even move properly.

“I did a little research on rabbit shifter heats,” He murmurs, running a finger along the items he’d already removed from their packaging and cleaned beforehand. Just in case. “And I’m wolf enough to admit that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. So I bought help.” His grin, would probably be described as wolfish as he sees how focused you remain on those delightful items.

Taking his time, Hoseok lifts up the first item and turns it on, letting the low level buzz fill the room while he takes in the immediate reaction from you. Lush lips fall open while your eyes widen in want, legs spreading even further and your hips cant upwards invitingly.

But he doesn’t use it, and instead turns it off and lays it back down on the bed. No, he’s more interested in the other toy right now, and lifts up the dildo with an interested gaze. The website had said that it was designed to stimulate the g-spot specifically, and it did have a peculiar curve to it that his dick did not.

“I wonder if this works?” He muses to himself, letting the head of the dildo rub against the engorged lips of your labia, coating it in your juices. Up and down, up and down he strokes it before finally slipping it into your empty entrance slowly.

The intrusion of the sex toy has you letting out the longest, lowest groan he’s ever heard from you. He wasn’t sure he could get any harder, but he does, and he lets out a pained moan of his own as his jeans trap him so uncomfortably.

“Feel good?” Hoseok’s voice is choked, tight with repressed need to fuck you into oblivion. There’s no verbal reply from you, simply a gasping cry as your body writhes around, trying to shift the fake cock into the perfect position.

He’d been moving it slowly, getting used to it himself and also getting used to the unusual sensation of watching you get fucked a cock that isn’t his. Hoseok is actually surprised by how competitive he suddenly feels, eyes narrowing as he twists it until the curved part is evidently rubbing against the sensitive spot inside you.

The reaction is immediate - your hips jerk off the bed while a shaking cry leaves your throat, hands grasping at the bed sheets and panting. Pushing down on the toy, he makes it press against your walls even harder and begins to move it faster, muscles in his arm aching slightly from the constant movement.

But it’s worth it, to watch you groan and whine in absolute desperation, completely at his mercy. His wolf is practically growling in delight and he can’t stop the responding rumble of approval from his chest.

It has you pausing for a moment, eyes wide before there’s a tremor of anticipation that rolls through you. He takes note of it idly with a smirk, enjoying the way that there was a tiny part of you that was bizarrely turned on by the panic his dominance caused.

“Does my little rabbit enjoy getting fucked by a fake cock? Do you? Do you like this fucking you? Or would you rather my cock? Would your greedy pussy rather be filled with my cock?” He practically hisses at that, the metaphorical fur on his back rising as he gets filled with a bizarre kind of jealousy.

“My cock could fill you full of cum in a way this never could.” He growls, biting down on the soft and supple flesh of your thigh. It has you practically purring with pleasure despite the initial jerk away from his sharpened teeth, running a hand down your stomach before reaching his hand.

“I want your cock, I want your cum. Please Hobi, fill me, please.” You beg him, running a placating hand down his wrist and still trying to encourage him to move it harder. At that, he growls viciously, teeth bared.

“Really? Do you really? Because you seem to be pretty fucking happy to be getting fucked by this.” He snarls, lifting up the dildo and letting you watch the excitement literally drip off the tip onto the coarse hair along your pubic bone.

Immediately, you’re trying to appease him. He has not doubt that under normal circumstances, that would be with coherent sentences and soothing touches, but the heat has you in its lust filled grip and instead you simply stroke your own body, eyeing him seductively.

“No baby, no. I want your cock, please give me it. I’ll be a good bunny.” You whisper, biting your lip while your eyes roll into the back of your head as he makes a particularly harsh thrust. He doesn’t bother to answer, and instead grabs the vibrator and turns it on.

You don’t get a word in before he’s pressing it to your clit, twisting it until he finds that sweet spot that has you practically blubbering. There’s no coherent words now, just noises and garbled sounds that leave your mouth as he increases the intensity.

He’s brutal and relentless, arm muscles almost seizing up as he thrusts the dildo into your wet pussy, all the while the vibrator works at the engorged bundle of nerves between your legs incessantly. It’s almost laughable how quickly you fall apart in his arms, body spasming violently while liquid gushes from you with each thrust, coating his wrist and his bed sheets.

Hoseok wishes he was inside you, and he decides that he’s had enough. He’s only a man, and he can only cope with so much torture.

Which is why he pulls the dildo free from your pussy and throws it onto the bed, uncaring of where it lands. Instead, his focus remains on the soaked, swollen flesh between your legs while he tears off his clothes, throwing them to all corners of his room.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you struggle to walk after this heat ends.” He states bluntly, tone even and giving away none of the desire he’s feeling. Your eyes are fucked out, body moving limply from the third orgasm but as soon as his dick bursts free from his pants, bobbing gently in the open air, fresh excitement begins to leak from you and he can’t help but groan.

“Oh little rabbit, oh sweet thing. Look at you, all fucked out yet a glimpse of my cock and you’re dripping for me all over.” Hoseok strokes himself slowly, rasping out a moan as he tightens his grip around the shaft before thumbing over the sensitive head, currently leaking pre-cum.

Taking in the sight of you, he shuffles forward, running the tip along the wet flesh and coating himself in a delightfully thick layer of your juices. It only takes the slightest shift of his hips to slip into your warmth, and he almost sobs in relief at the tight sensation that grips him. He could die right here, and die a happy man.

There’s just a moment of quiet as he enjoys the sensation before he begins to move, letting his cock slip in and out of you in slow, methodical movements. Tiny muscles in your pussy ripple along his length, causing him to pant as sweat breaks out on his face, dampening his hair.

Each movement causes pops of bliss to explode in his veins, his hands running along your thighs before sliding up your waist. He takes a moment to play with your nipples, twisting the pebbled nubs reverantely between his fingers before moving them further up, resting by your head.

Now, he’s hovering over your body and he leans down slowly, whispering into your ear. “I’m gonna breed you, little rabbit, I’m going to breed you hard until you’re leaking me a week from now. This pussy is going to be coated in white because of me, because this is my pussy. And only mine.” He grunts, not fully aware of his overly possessive words. With each thrust rocking your body up the bed, he hears the delightful music of your panted moans in his ear.

Hoseok wishes he could last longer, he wishes that he could make it last longer to tease you, but he can’t. Reaching for the vibrator he’d thrown away, he presses it to your clit and turns it back on, groaning out as stray vibrations run through his own cock.

“Oh fuck.” He whispers, eyes closing as his hips snap forward, flesh slapping against flesh obscenely and it’s with a strangled moan that he cums. His body tenses and his balls tighten, muscles quivering as his cock begins to twitch inside the excruciating warmth of your pussy, coating you with himself.

The sensation of him orgasming combined with the vibrator on your over-stimulated clit has your body jerking underneath his while a pained, breathy moan leaves your mouth in his ear. Each clench of your orgasm has his own prolonging, until he’s not sure he’ll ever cum again in all honesty.

Fiery satisfaction burns through his veins, his mind focused solely on the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensations of his cock. He doesn’t even notice the sharp pain in his neck from where you’d been moaning into it.

But he does notice the bond snapping into place immediately, an invisible twang of a rubber band settling between the two of you. It’s instantaneous and for a few seconds, the pleasure becomes almost unbearable as the bond bounces your emotions off each other, intensifying it each time until you’re both orgasming a second time.

It’s almost painful for Hoseok, to be cumming so fast after an orgasm already. But this time, there’s something behind the lust and desire that feels comforting and pleasant. He doesn’t analyse it yet, instead just focusing on the electric stimulation in his body before almost collapsing on top of you.

Harsh panting is all that can be heard afterwards, and the room feels hot. Your skin isn’t as hot as before, and you simply look at him with a sleepy smile when he lifts himself up to look at you with a slight sense of wonder. His cock slides out of you slowly, and he sits up shakily to watch with a satisfied smirk as his cum slowly begins to leak from your used hole.

He wishes he could knot you, but that would run the risk of children. And he doesn’t want that yet.

Instead, he’ll just have to go at it normally. When he looks back up, his brow raises when he sees you staring at him intently, and it’s with an internal sigh that he realises rabbit heat’s really are a different breed. The scent of your heat is even stronger to him now, and it’s with even more surprise that he feels a stirring in his cock already, only minutes after he’d had perhaps the best orgasm of his life.

Laughing slightly, he shakes his head before turning and laying on his back. Taking a deep breath, he looks over at you before gesturing to himself with a smirk. “Come on then little rabbit, let’s see if this wolf can blow your house down.”

-

It’s the stuffy heat of his room, combined with the stench of stale sex, that wakes Hoseok up from a dead sleep. Coughing gruffly, he winces at the dryness of his throat and attempts to lick at his chapped lips to provide some respite.

Blinking blearily, a low grunt leaves him as the sun through streams through the open curtains. A stray thought runs through his head that maybe he’d accidentally given others a show over the last six days.

At that, he glances over to his side and spys you, curled up into a ball on your side with your back facing him. He takes a moment to simply admire you, taking in the gentle curve of your waist along with the smooth expanse of skin along your back.

It’s currently littered with dark bruises that have been sucked, spanked and gripped into your skin over the last few days. A slow curl of pride slides its way around his body before he suddenly remembers, the slight twinge in his neck suddenly reminding him.

Pressing a hand to the still sore flesh, a shy smile takes over as his fingers trail the mark there and the pride erupts into butterflies of excitement and happiness. You’d marked him. You’d claimed him.

You were officially a bonded pair.

He’d need to take you to officially register it at the Mate Registry, to let everyone know that the two of you had claimed each other. It was like a weight off his shoulders, knowing that you felt strong enough about him to accept him for life.

Hoseok doesn’t even realise that he’s reaching for you until his hand is wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. A soft murmur of protest is all he gets before you blink back at him, eyes tired and your scent back to normal.

“Hi.” Is all he manages to get out, and he’d be more annoyed at himself if he actually thought that he could think of anything better to say. But he can’t.

It doesn’t matter, as your lips break out into a heart stopping smile as you wriggle in his arms until you’re facing him. The lack of clothing bothers neither of you, and he watches fondly as your eyes take in his appearance before resting on the still prominent mark on his neck. It would take a good week or two for it to settle down like yours, but he was proud to wear it.

His cheeks tint slightly before he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, hoping you don’t mind morning breath too badly. “Thank you.” Is all he manages to get out, causing your brow to raise.

“For what? Letting you fuck me into oblivion? You did really good by the way, well done on the toys.” You grin, patting his chest before letting your hand rest there, stroking gently in almost hypnotic movements.

“Not that you little demon. And you’re welcome, I did my research. Anyway no, thank you...for choosing me. It means...I mean...I didn’t think you would.” He murmurs out, cheeks going hot with a combination of shame and embarrassment.

At that, you lift your head back to rest on the pillow, brows turned inwards in confusion while you stare at him. “Why wouldn’t I pick you? You’re ridiculously dominant yeah, and that still wigs me out sometimes. But...you’re the sweetest guy ever. So kind, funny and supportive. And you never pushed, even though I knew it probably had to hurt to be bonded to me and know I could go anywhere. There’s no need to worry though, you’re my big bad wolf now.”

You grin broadly and lean forward to press a kiss to the mark, causing him to shiver slightly and he’s beyond surprised when he feels the slightest twitch from his groin. How the hell could he possible get it up after six days of non-stop sex?

Shaking his head, he lets out a sigh before giving you a loved-up smile. “I love you.” It’s the first time he’s ever admitted that. It had been so hard to keep those precious words inside, when they had bubbled up within him so many times. When he’d watched you giggle with your friends, smile lighting up your face, or the soft way your hair would blow when his window was open. They’d crawled up his throat when he watched you nap, the way your nose would twitch like a rabbits in your deep sleep or the way you bounce cutely when excited.

He loves you right now, even though you’re sticky and gross with dried sweat and cum, hair messy and just all around not great in reality. But god, does he love you passionately. You look at him with wide eyes, so round and innocent, and his chest swells until he can barely speak. The others would laugh at his emotional outburst, but he didn’t care.

“I love you so much, and I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to let me continue loving you. I didn’t want to tell you in case you thought it was influencing you. You needed to come to that decision on your own. But, I’ll never stop letting you know, okay?” Hoseok whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, eyes glistening slightly before leaning forward to press a kiss to his mouth. He doesn’t expect a response yet, but he’s comfortable in the knowledge that he’ll get one soon.

A comfortable silence falls over the room, both content with just being in the grip of each other before you speak quietly. “I think you should take the Mancita City Pack role.”

He stays quiet before querying why you think this, letting his hand run over your back in slow and methodical movements. “Because you’ll be a phenomenal Alpha. And it’s what you deserve. Anything less is not doing justice to you.”

Hoseok can’t help but smile at that, nuzzling his nose into your hair before letting out a breath. “You think? I was thinking of taking it too. We wouldn’t have to worry about a place to live, and I’d be making more than enough to support us.”

At that, you lift up your head to look at him with a frown. “Can I work as an Alpha’s mate? Will they even accept me as a rabbit shifter?” There’s a tone of worry to your voice that has him frowning, his wolf demanding he console you and take care.

“Hey, hey. It doesn’t matter, Alpha’s don’t always need to mate with wolves. If anything, you’ll be the perfect mate as normally the mate of the Alpha is the one who is the balancing stone to them. I’ll turn to you when the pack is relying on me. And in turn, you can rely on me.” He presses a kiss to your nose gently.

“Trust me, you can work. I would never demand anything of you and I will 100% support you in anything you want to do. Whether you want to get a normal job, or start a business or something. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. Don’t think that just because I’m your mate, you can’t be independent.”

You stay quiet before your mouth creases into a smile, eyes lighting up in the morning sun and his stomach flips. “That...is why I chose to claim you. I’ll be your support hero. Just like you do now, when you’re feeling stressed or upset or tired when something is annoying you then just talk to me. Tell me. I’ll be your confidant, so that you can do your job properly.”

He laughs loudly at that, head flinging back on his pillow as happiness rolls through his body. “You don’t make me sound like a big bad wolf, you know that?” Hoseok teases, nudging your nose before pressing a closed mouth kiss to your lips.

You giggle and kiss him back contentedly, moving back before sighing. “You may not be, but you’re still my wolf.” The words sound familiar and it takes a moment before he remembers what he told you in the park when you both started dating, causing him to snicker lightly.

“Is that going to be our cheesy go-to line in our relationship?” He asks, teeth flashing white as a smile takes over his face.

“Maybe. But it’s a good line right?” You whisper, wrinkling your nose at him. Hoseok simply watches you, his heart in his eyes before nodding.

“Yeah, it is. And you’re right. I am your wolf. And I hope you never regret that.”

“Never. This little bunny, will definitely live happily ever after.”

[cordoniasmost]

As the World Burns - Part 5

Story: Blood Bound

Pairing: MC (Amy) x Adrian x Jax x Dracula x ? (it’s basically a clown car up in here, y’all!)

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual innuendo/discussions, pregnancy, date rape

Word Count: 1865

Find Part 4 Here

A/N: This is the final part in this series. 

When I stumbled on the theory about MC being pregnant as the reason for the “darkness within” line from yesterday’s chapter of BloodBound (Book 2, chapter 14), I had to write something super dramatic and funny (read: ridiculous) because what’s life without a little whimsy? Haha :)  This series is going to be 5 parts.  Enjoy! (This really went off the rails… sorry not sorry! lol)

Tag List: @furiouscloddonutpeanut @averysheart-raleighsdick @kingliamsbish @dr-brianna-casey-valentine @angrypainterfarmopera @maiajaychoices @desiree-0816 @mrsagentbreakdance

Amy sat backstage wondering what the fuck just happened. She held her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to try and regain her composure. It can’t be Gaius, can it? Her mind was swirling and she was having trouble focusing her thoughts. She felt Jax beside her protectively, his sword retrieved from the stage and slung over his back. He was rubbing slow circles on her back trying to comfort her.

“This is fine, Ames. We’ll figure it out,” he said soothingly. “It’s going to be fine.” She wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself, but either way she was grateful that he was still standing by her. Adrian, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word to anyone. It was hard to read the expression on his face, but mostly he just looked shocked.

As they were all trying to collect themselves, Dracula had managed to find a couple of women in the studio audience and had an arm slung around each of them, a promise of things to come no doubt. Amy gagged at the thought.

Gaius had disappeared into a side room with a flash of his teeth at her. Some people might have mistaken it for a smile, but she knew better. He was taunting her. The bastard. She wanted desperately to make him pay but her thoughts and emotions were confused. Amy also knew that Adrian and Jax had both wanted to kill Gaius before all of this happened. Now that they thought he had violated her? It was going to be a thousand times worse. She was surprised neither of them had made a move yet to take him out, but it was only a matter of time.

While trying to collect her thoughts, she heard the click of heels on tiled floor as someone approached them.  She looked up, her gaze settling on the woman walking towards her, clipboard in hand and headset slung around her neck. “Amy, a word please,” she said before spinning on her heel and striding off to a private section of the backstage area. Amy pressed her hands to her knees, pushing herself up into a standing position. 

“Do you want me to come with you, Ames?” Jax asked her, his hand still on her back.

She shook her head. “No, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll be right back.”

Amy took purposeful steps, breathing deeply as she walked toward the producer. “What’s going on?”

She woman smiled at her. “That was incredible TV, so I wanted to thank you for coming on the show.”

Amy scowled. “Yeah, I’m sure it was great for ratings watching my life go up in flames,” she mumbled.

She woman chuckled. “That’s just the way this business works. It’s nothing personal.”

It felt pretty goddamn personal to Amy but she didn’t have the energy left to argue.

“Sure, whatever,” she said.

“I did want to let you know that we twisted things a little bit out there. The results we read on stage weren’t entirely accurate.”

Amy’s head snapped up, her eyes searching the producer’s for any sign that this nightmare wasn’t actually happening. 

“What do you mean?” she breathed. She felt a flicker of hope ignite deep inside her but she was afraid to acknowledge it for fear it’d be snatched back just as quickly.

“Obviously one of the guys you’re in a relationship with would have been incredibly boring for viewers. So, we decided it had to be one of the other two no matter what the test results said.”

Amy was starting to see red. “Can you get to the fucking point? You’re screwing with my life here. Just tell me what you did!” she yelled, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jax take a step toward her, his eyes narrowed. She only had a few seconds left before he’d come over and do something they’d all regret. Neither Jax or Adrian was particularly jealous, but they were protective of her and likely wouldn’t react very well to news that they’d all just been fucked with for the sake of TV ratings. 

The producer smirked at her, handing her a manila envelope. “That was all just for show. Here are the real results. Congrats, Amy,” she said without sincerity, already turning and striding away, tossing a wave over her shoulder. 

Amy held the envelope with a shaky hand. Jax had closed the space between them, pulling her into his arms. “What’s wrong, Ames?”

She let out a shaky breath. “That producer just told me they didn’t give us the right results, that all of that was just for show.”

She could feel his body stiffen around her, anger beginning to radiate off of him. “What?”

She nodded, stepping back out of his arms. “Yeah, they fucked with us for ratings.” She felt disgusted, like she needed a scalding hot shower to wash off this day.

Jax laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know who I want to kill more at this point, Drac for making us go through this spectacle, Maury fucking Povich, or Gaius.”

“I vote all three,” Amy said, her voice hard. “But let’s get Adrian and open this envelope first.”

He glanced down at her hands. “What is that?”

“The real results.”

***

They found Adrian sitting by himself, staring off at nothing in particular. His body was rigid and he appeared to still be shocked by everything that had happened. Amy approached him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Adrian?”

He blinked a few times, awareness creeping into his eyes. “Hey Amy,” he said softly, giving her a small smile. 

“Listen Adrian, the producer just told me that they didn’t give us the real results out there. They were going for TV ratings and didn’t mind fucking with our lives to get them,” she said, her tone angry.

“What?” he said, practically shouting. “What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed and he jumped up from where he’d been sitting, beginning to pace.

“Just what I said. She gave me this,” she said, holding up the manila envelope, “and told me they were the real results.”

Adrian stopped pacing and his eyes widened. He sat back down, his gaze never leaving the envelope.

“I wanted to open it privately here with you and Jax,” she told him, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He exhaled slowly. “Okay, yes. Let’s open it.”

She let go of his hand, breaking the seal on the envelope. She reached inside and delicately pulled the paper upwards until she could just read the black type enclosed inside. A smile broke out across her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“What, Amy? Who is it?” Adrian asked, his eyes wide.

She couldn’t find her voice in this moment, the amount of relief she felt was indescribable. She handed the envelope behind her to Jax who quickly scanned the words on the page before grinning over at Adrian.

“Congrats, man! You’re going to be a father,” Jax told him, reaching over to hand him the envelope and clapping him on the shoulder. 

“I’m what?” Adrian asked in disbelief. “But I thought- But Gaius-”

He couldn’t seem to complete a sentence as slowly the events of the day caught up to him.

“I’m going to be a father? I’m going to be a father!” he shouted, jumping up and pulling Amy into a tight hug.

“Oof! Be careful, you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe,” she laughed against him.

He instantly let her go, holding her at arm’s length, eyes filled with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

She laughed. “No, I’m fine now that I can get air into my lungs again.”

He pulled her back in for another hug, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “I can’t believe it. I never thought this would be possible after I was turned. I… lost my son and I’d given up hope of ever having another child. This is beyond any dream I could have ever imagined. You’ve given me the greatest gift I never dared to wish for. I love you,” he told her, his voice hoarse.

“I love you, too.”

From somewhere behind them, Amy heard a slow clap. She turned her head to see Gaius making his way toward them. 

“What a happy little family. Too bad that baby will never be born.”

Amy felt the anger welling up inside her. She wanted to make Gaius pay for everything he’d ever done to her, and this was the last straw. Just as she was about to step forward, she felt herself being pulled behind Adrian’s body. He stepped in front of her, shielding her from Gaius’s view almost completely before glancing down over his shoulder. “You will let me deal with him. We’re not putting our baby at risk for him,” he growled at her, his fangs bared but his eyes never leaving Gauis.

She felt his muscles tensing. Oh, shit. He’s about to do this here, she thought, glancing around the room. It had thankfully cleared out shortly after filming and Drac was nowhere to be seen. It was now just the four of them. 

“You won’t hurt my family,” Adrian said, his tone lethal.

Gaius threw his head back and laughed. “Your family? Oh, please. I was the only family you’ll ever have, Adrian, and you betrayed me. And for what? This?” he said, pointing at Amy and Jax.

Rather than say anything else, Adrian began to lunge forward. Jax threw out his arm across Adrian’s chest. “I’ve got this. You’re going to be a father. Let me take care of our family this time,” Jax said, reaching back and grasping the handle of his sword.

“You? What do you think you could possibly do against me?” Gaius taunted.

Almost faster than Amy could see, Jax had crossed the space between himself and Gaius, drawing his sword in the process. As if to demonstrate his lack of intimidation, Gaius turned his back at that moment to begin walking away. Jax was faster than he expected, though, and swung his sword just once. Gaius stopped walking, falling to his knees before slumping over. When his body hit the ground, his head rolled off, blood pouring from the opening in his neck where his head sat just seconds before.

“Holy shit, Jax,” Amy said. “I can’t believe you actually did it.”

He smiled at her, his face blood splattered. He’d never looked hotter. The fuck is wrong with me that fresh blood spatter gets me hot? She wasn’t going to over analyze it at this point.

“Guess that’ll teach you never to doubt my skills again, Ames,” he said with a wink.

She held out her hand for him, her body still pressed against Adrian’s. Jax strode towards her, wrapping her and Adrian both up in a hug.

Amy exhaled slowly. It was really all over, both the looking over their shoulder and hunting for Gauis and this crazy pregnancy drama. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of here. I could really use a nice relaxing evening at home,” she said. “With at least three orgasms.”

Adrian laughed, reaching down and placing his hand protectively on the small swell of her stomach. “I think we can manage that. What do you think, Jax?”

He chuckled. “Let’s go home.”

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

FIC COMP: The Kidverse Arcs

#1 - And Baby Makes Three: The Arrival Of William Dean Harvelle

He had come early. Jo didn’t expect him to come for another three weeks and while she was glad to know the torture of having to stay at home, off of her feet, and waddle around with some parasitic creature growing inside of her, she couldn’t help but be worried at the distance between now and the due date. She’d thought it was just normal pains to begin with, not bothering to move off the couch from where she was watching a documentary on censorship in the media for lack of anything else. It wasn’t until they had continued for almost an hour on and off that she realised what was happening and had called Grey to grab her overnight bag and get her to the hospital as soon as possible.

The entire process had been over before she really realised what was happening, doctors throwing around words like ‘low heart beat’, 'not breathing’ and 'substance abuse’ as she lay on the bed in the aftermath, not really hearing what was going on until she realised that when in all the films and Lamaze class videos they should be handing her the baby, the doctors were instead crowded around the small crib that would be his bed. Grey was the only thing keeping her calm as she realised it, his uncrushed hand brushed across her cheek and rested against her neck carefully, catching her gaze and he spoke soothingly to her until the nurses came to get her to clean up as her son was wheeled out of the room without her even seeing him.

It wasn’t until two days later that Jo was shown to the premature ward, where she could look through the glass at all the other babies and her own, tiny, pale haired boy with the name plate 'Harvelle’ for the first time. Once again Grey had been the one there with her, hand tightly wrapped around her waist and was the only thing that kept her from crashing to the ground when the doctors came around to talk about the boy’s chances being higher than the days before but still worrying. That she’d sat through months of carrying the little thing inside of her safe and sound, and then the second he was out in the real world he was already in danger was hard for her to take as she got a final glimpse of his closed eyes and blond hair before she’d passed out.

During her first chance to feed her son, still not named as Jo wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it if he didn’t pull through, it was also the first time she’d gotten to hold him. The feeling was something completely different to what she expected, not the overwhelming joy she thought would happen as his bright green eyes had looked back at her during his first feed, but she was still happy as she brushed his small tuft of hair back from his forehead. When the nurse went to take him off of her and back to the ward, Jo had stopped her and asked Grey to hold him as well - the completely uncertain grasp he had on the boy was soon gone as she watched her friend get more comfortable with her son in his arms. She wouldn’t tell anyone else, but she’s certain the smile on his face was even wider than her own, even as the different eye and hair colour both scream out that there was no way he was the boy’s father.

The first visitors she had arrived four days after she’d come in, not having gotten the message out until that morning when the doctors finally told her that the baby was in the clear and that they could take him home in a month - just to check for any other issues. Her surrogate-father had been the first to show up, is new partner in tow, and the pair carried in a slew of toys - including a blanket Bobby had refused to let Jody see the underside of which had a Devil’s Trap sewn into it. The older woman had looked confused when she’d come into the room to find Grey holding the baby and wandering about the room as Jo sat on her bed, surrounded by papers she’d been unable to look at for a few younger hunters.

It was on her last morning in the hospital that she as sat, fully dressed and waiting, on the end of her bed with the birth certificate in front of her that she brought the topic up to Grey. He’d come in with her discharge papers and a nurse trailed behind him to come for the certificate, and as Jo’d turned the papers around - child’s name filled in as 'William Dean Harvelle’ and her name and signature under mother - it was obvious he didn’t understand for a brief second before the grin split across his face. She hadn’t mentioned it, she hadn’t even thought about having to mention it, and when she watched him quickly sign his first and borrowed last name, alongside a signature, under the position of father she hadn’t even worried about him saying no.

#2 - Back In Black: The Return Of A Father

The first place he turned his old, slightly beaten bike towards after waking up in the Washington storage-hole was towards the last place he knew the loves of his life were - a little rest stop, just off the highway through Nebraska. What he found when he got there was enough to make his blood run cold; nothing, just the darkened dirt where Harvelle’s Roadhouse used to stand.

He had no idea how he’d gotten back to the hide-out, or how long he’d been out - obviously long enough for a thick, clogging layer of dust to settle on everything he owned and for his only home to disappear from the face of the earth. Too long given the last thing William remembered was the barrel of his friend’s gun pointed at his head as he begged to for help as the burning, clawing feeling of both his wrecked body and the demon infesting his mind ran through him. To him, it was barely a week since he kissed his wife goodbye and put his knife in his daughter’s hand with the promise of being home to see just how long an apple peel she could get this time.

Tires turned towards South Dakota, he fled straight to the next safest place he knew Ellen would go, hoping against hope as he got closer and closer that she would be there and safe with their little girl. The changes in the roads, the cities and towns, and cars he passed didn’t register at all, nothing but how good it felt to have his hair held down by the helmet and the terror that had flooded him first seeing the empty patch of land disappearing with each mile.

The blond hunter arrived out front of the dishevelled looking salvage yard, expecting to see the aging dark bitch and her newest puppy litter outside on the porch as he kicked the park out, once again being disappointed by the lack of familiarity. Bill knocked loudly on the front door, knuckles rapped on the wood in a quick rhythm as he waited for the usually prompt hunter to get to the door. To say it was a shock when he was faced with a much older man, obviously related to the other hunter if the facial growth and penchant for baseball caps was any indication, was an understatement.

“I didn’t know old Bobster had any family. Or that he let them into ‘is house! Can you get him for me?” If the startled look the older man had gotten when he opened the door was shocked, it was a very mild shock compared to the reaction to Bill’s words and question. Obviously the older Singer wasn’t used to people showing up, understandable, Bill thought, given how unwelcoming the man, just over ten years his senior, Bobby could be. Deciding to be delicate about it, he unclipped his helmet and swung it off between his hands as he tried for a bumbling young man with his first pair of two wheels. “Urgent business needs attending to.”

All the act got him was a huge wave in the face and the end of a gun barrel pointed right between his eyes as both men looked at one another, one face unreadable and the other with the look of a very angry, wet cat. “Not. A. Demon.” Bill took a step back and to the side as he spoke, careful to keep his eyes on the other as he wiped what he assumed to be holy water from his face, and reached quickly for the silver cross around his neck before he waved it before the other, fingers touching. “Not a shifter either. I guess you know what kind of business I’m after Bobby for, so I’ll just come in and-”

“Iron.” The gruff response, alongside the almost furious twist to the old man’s face made Bill frown and cock an eyebrow, not quite sure how that could be relevant. “Bill, you need to touch some iron before I let you step foot in my house.”

“Your hou- /Bobby?!/” The blond’s eyes widened as he stared at the other, noting the family features could really easily be the one and the same features of the grumpy hunter he’d been introduced to by Rufus eight years earlier. “Bobby what the fuck happened to you, man?”

“I said iron, Bill. I’ll explain…whatever I can when I know you’re human.” Bobby was surprisingly unreceptive or friendly, given he’d seen the man only four months ago in a stop in on the way home from Miami. Bill thought that the last time the other had forgiven him for accidentally bleeding on his kitchen table, but maybe not if the cool reception was anything to go by.

He waved his hand for a second before he just dropped his helmet, fished out one of the knives he’d picked up from the locker to replace the one he’d given his little Jo and pressed the iron blade against the side of his wrist before holding it out. “Human, through and through. Now lemme in old..er man.”

Bobby stepped back, not quite lowering the gun until Bill had made his way through the Devil’s Trap above the door and into the main lounge-turned-study. The second he spotted the worn old sofa in the same spot as always, the young man felt less and less like a stranger in a strange land at the first familiar thing since he woke up and found his spare bike hidden in the bushes around the back of his store space. The clunks and groans of wood behind him as he settled down on the couch cushion, more worn than when he was there some month’s back, let him know that the much-older-than-last-they-met Bobby Singer had entered behind him, and if the doors on both sides of the room being shut meant anything, it was that there was something seriously wrong going on. And the only thing Bill could attribute that to was the other’s sudden aging.

“So, what happened Singer? You were a much fresher daisy back when I swung past for that patch up back in June.” The teasing tone was easy to hold right up until his hazel eyes met the other’s, Bobby’s mouth twitched in a way that said there was very bad news about to spill from his lips and that he needed to stop playing around. “Seriously, Bobby, what’s happened?”

“Harvelle..” Bobby sounded as worn down as the cap over his brow as he let out a sigh, hand running over his short trimmed beard for a second in contemplation before he looked at the other and asked seriously. “What is the last thing you remember? The very last thing.”

“John’s gun, he was going to kill the thing that jumped me, but I guess he subdued it somehow instead. I just remember that, and then coming to over in Washington. Everything else is null time.” It was hard to think about that moment, and he rested his hand over his stomach where he remembers holding himself together behind the chokes of blood, the pain simmering again in his mind as his thumb rubbed across the area as though holding in the phantom problems again. “Why? What’s what I remember have to do with you getting old?”

“This…is not my lucky day is it. You’re going to need a drink for this.” Without actually waiting for the answer, the older hunter was up and back with two, slightly grimy, glasses and a bottle of whiskey. As Bill raised his glass to his lips, Bobby let out a quiet exclamation before speaking to him again normally, a slightly bitter tone to his voice. “Try not to spill that, but John did kill you. Going on seventeen years ago now.”

“Sev- seventeen /what?/” There was a second where William thought he would loose his glass as he choked and spluttered on the drink he’d taken, eyes wet around the edges as he gasped yet stared at the other in disbelief. “Fuck, pull the other one you bastard. What kind of-”

“I’m not joking, Harvelle. It’s the gods honest truth.” Bobby’s tone was sharp, laced with a slight anger at not having his word believed, but the blond hunter remembers when the man in front of him was greener than that boy Ash’s face was his first night when his first step into the Roadhouse was to a screaming, flying mass of Bill’s little girl threatening him to stay away from her daddy or she’d cut off the tackle her Mama always said boys liked playing with so much while he slept. It was hard to believe much of what he said off the bat like that, even with the visible age difference having grown even wider. “You’ve been dead since that hunt in '95.”

“But… what happened to the Roadhouse then?” Bill’s eyes fixated on the other’s face, still watering but blinking quickly as the fear from before and of not seeing any sign of either of his girls’ around settled back into the soon to be frantic hunter. “What happened to Ellen? Did..when did it burn down? Where is she? What’s happened to her? And J- …Singer, where is my daughter?”

The older man’s look hardened at the other’s questions inexplicably to the other, an almost possessive element to his response quickly quietened the questions and near accusing tone Bill had. “Ellen is... Well... The Roadhouse got destroyed by demons six years ago… Ash didn’t make it out. As for Jo…” Bobby’s voice got tight as he explained about Ash, though it staying as he spoke about Jo complimented the way he paused to down his whiskey before leaning back in his chair, arms folded tightly across his chest and rubbed at his beard for a second considering how to continue.

The news on Ash hit harder than Bill expected it to, the boy had barely been in his life for a year, most of that lost to months on the road only to return to find just how close the genius was to being family each time he came back home. He’d been the one to baby sit Jo at night when Ellen was short staffed from what his wife would tell him, he’d practice identifying leaves and monsters and patterns with his little girl only to find out she had a better system all taught to her by 'Miles’. Ash had made his way into the Harvelle family, and it had been barely a week to the hunter since he’d seen the slightly grubby faced boy-man pretending to lose at poker with Joanna before actually finding it hard to come back from the first loss. But he barely had time to think about that as his heart sank at the way Bobby moved and spoke, not acknowledging hearing any of it other than to stare at the other, awaiting whatever horrible fate had befallen his daughter because he wasn’t there to protect her.

“She’s good, Bill, I believe. Keeps in contact calling for information on this hunt or that, or reporting something through her own knowledge base that might be useful.  Seems happy enough, all things considered.” Bobby’s jaw clenched after he spoke, unwilling to speak further on the matter. Not that Bill really cared, all he heard was that she was doing okay, that she was happy - everything else was a blur as he sank back in relief, until the word /hunt/ stuck out in his mind.

“Did you just say someone is letting my little girl hunt? She’s just a child, Bobby!” The passing of time didn’t connect at all to the young man as he envisioned his little girl, pigtails and awkwardly, knobbly knees and all, running out into one of the many hunt situations that he’d found himself in before. Unable to reconcile it in such a way that could make the idea anything near alright. “What do you mean all things considered? Is she injured? Hurt? Did something get her? Where is she? And her mother, Bobby? /Where are they/.” His voice got more and more aggressive as he spoke, the worry and things the other said getting to him as Bill stood in a flash, hands bunched in the other’s shirt front to lift him - as though it would make the answer come out quicker, like his intimidation could make his family reappear safe and sound at his elbow if he just tried hard enough.

It wasn’t something Bobby was unused to from the other hunter, the infamous Harvelle temper coming not only from Ellen’s side but William’s too, though it had been a long, long time for the older man since anyone had attempted to intimidate, threaten and possibly brutalise the truth out of him. His large hands wrapped around the other’s, a short twist and he had freed himself from the now whimpering, worried grip of the Harvelle man. “You can take up her hunting with anyone you like, but Jo isn’t a little girl any more. She’s.. as old as you were when you died now, Bill. As for the rest - your daughter is fine, she’s in Minnesota, and it’s her story to tell her /father/, not mine.” The bitter tone was re-emerging, though Bill was perceptive enough this time as he scanned the other’s face to realise it was addressed internally rather than at him or anyone else.

“And Ellen?” Bill’s voice wavered slightly, not that the worry about his only daughter was gone the focussed turned to the woman he’d met in high school, who was the first girl to sit on the back of his bike and scream to go faster not to stop, and who was the mother of his child. Bobby’d been evasive when discussing her, even more so than the obvious aversion to sharing whatever secrets his little girl must have. “Where is she, Bobby?”

“She’s gone… Ran off to Mexico a long while ago, and she...she turned her back on Jo and us all, Bill,” The hesitance to explain was clear as day, as the older hunter dipped his head forward, obscuring his face with the bill of his cap. It took a moment for the words to sink in and the delicate way he spoke them was like ice over the boiling rage that flashed up at their meaning. Bobby added calmly and rationally, in the same gruff, almost possessive tone as he’d used earlier - it now making much more sense to the twitching, blond man, “You’ve been dead, Harvelle. For almost twenty years. Things have changed. /People/ change. It’s been a long time, and there are almost none of us left of our generation, Bill, and those of us that /are/ left can’t keep living in the past.”

Bill’s teeth ground together as he looked the few inches down at the other man, never having felt the distinct differences in their ages as pronounced as now - the now even older hunter, maturity and rational arguments soothing over the rash desire of the younger to beat down the other. “It’s not in the past for me, though. It was last week. Tell me, Singer, what am I supposed to do now? Am I even going to recognise my /wife/ when she walks through the door, or am I going to meet a stranger?” He at least had the decency to look ashamed after the words left his mouth, the anger at the idea of having died, of not remembering, of how much things must have changed but without him knowing or being there for it making him react even worse than his temper would usually bring about. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Bill.. This wasn’t easy, it’s never goddamn easy, and we’ve all had to do this too. The reliving thing. The waking up and forgetting it’s not three years ago, that the president is black and that M.A.S.H isn’t even on re-runs any more. It’s hard, but you start with the places you’re missed the most..” Bobby, to his credit, didn’t back down from the glares the other sent him, despite the differences in physical strength and the obvious anger, confusion and distrust coursing though the other man. Right up until Bill seemed to be listening, at which point the older turned back to his desk, scribbled an address onto the back of his newspaper and held it towards the other - the intent of it easy to tell as his eyes flickered to the clock above the fire place. “Go see her, Bill. Ellen… She’s not her any more. But Jo on the other hand.”

The sentence trailed off, as Bill’s fingers snatched the piece of paper from the other like a mad man, the lump Bobby’s words made feeling thick and hard in his throat with all the things, the accusations, the worries, the confusion, that he wanted to bring up but couldn’t. There was a truth to it, and as much as the idea sounded wrong to him - that the life he had barely a week ago was completely gone - he couldn’t fight it when the date of the paper read out a date he never got to see. He never got to see a lot of things, but if the black ink address on the flip side, a place somewhere not to far from here, was any indication (or the way Bobby seemed to be leaving it in his hands what he did, stay for one or go to the other, as he left the room) he didn’t have to miss seeing even more.

He didn’t bother to call out a goodbye, knowing he’d be back and probably sooner than this visit was from his last - though maybe not, depending what his wife had to say about it; Bill scrunched the paper in his hand tightly as he stepped out the front door. His other hand picked up his helmet, settling it upon his head as he tucked the address inside his jacket above his heart where it would be safe, before the young hunter mounted his bike and peeled out of the dirt roadway, headed away from the junk yard and one half of his old life and towards the closest way to the other half of his old home.

#3 - Baby Love: Reunions Of A Special Kind

The house that resided at the address scribbled down on the fold-worn paper was not what Bill was expecting, especially not when his last house visit had suggested the owner was in the life. A thigh high chain link fence wrapped the front yard and as far as he could see around the sides of the small house, the gate was made out of something that appeared to be very rusted but not iron and had more locks than the hunter expected such a non-defensive fence to have. As he kicked the foot stand out from the side of his bike and parked upon the small strip of grass on the other side of the footpath, he shook his hair out of its dark helmet as he surreptitiously took in the outside of where he was told his daughter lived.

Locks locked, the hunter opted to just jump the fence, the grind of salt on his hands when he let go made him smile. Obviously his little girl was even more creative than her mother had ever been. The flowers and bushes growing around the front yard would have given him pause in any one else’s house, the number of items required for hex bags and spells visible across the small distance was enough to make him think maybe she was more out of the life like the other hunter he visited was than in. More protections were visible under scrutiny as he got to the front door, the shadows of certain paint work and the faint edge of a symbol carved under the doormat made the smile widen as he reached out to ring the doorbell before running his hand through his hair and straightening his shirt. This could be just as hard as the reintroduction to Bobby had been, maybe even harder, he mused to himself.

There were noises from inside before the unmistakable sound of a child’s voice reached him through the thick ashwood  “Me get! Me get, please pleaseplease!” Bill blinked in surprise at the sound, stepping back to try and see if he could see any other appropriate houses as obviously he had the wrong one, before the door jerked open to a shock of blond hair.

Whoever he was couldn’t have been more than three years if the still slightly wobbly balance was any indicator, and the older hunter couldn’t work out where to start as he stared down into the suspicious eyes of the little kid. The boy’s green eyes reminded him of someone’s though he couldn’t put his finger on it, and the uncertain grasp on a very large glass of water was all he could see before the beverages contents were thrown into his face. Or rather, they were intended to, instead splashing all over his shirt and leather jacket.

“Um, ‘cuse me. You smoke?” The boy peered up at him earnestly, both hands now grasped tightly around the glass as he stared at him and Bill tried to work out if he was being offered a cigarette by a preschooler for a second before shaking his head. Either way, there was no way the answer was going to be yes in front of this child.

“No, no smoke here.” After a beat, Bill knelt down to the other’s eye level, a sincere smile on his face as the child let out an authoritative nod and stepped back to set his glass on the floor behind him. “Any chance there’s a woman called Joa-”

“'ife time!” The older man was cut off in the middle of his question as the little blond span around again holding a shiny butter knife in his hand, the blunt tip pointed right at Bill’s nose as the child smiled gleefully at him. “No shifties here, or walkies.. or wolfmen.. or…or deejinnie, or 'rain-suckers or /braaaains/ies!”

As the boy spoke he waved the hand holding the kitchen utensil just shy of the hunter’s face, though the blade didn’t worry Bill at all as a smile of his own broke out at the terms and knowledge being displayed. To make things easier and stop the kid from possibly hitting himself with the butter knife, he reached out and wrapped his hand around the flat edge and pulled the piece out of the boy’s grasp gently, twirling it over his own fingers as he spoke. “Don’t worry, son. I’m not here to eat or destroy anyone. I’m just looking for my daughter.” Bill moved to stand and move inside, before the boy shook off his wonder at the hunter’s dexterity and put a hand up to stop him, the other wrapped tightly around the door.

“Wait! Have to touch the door knockknock.” A small, chubby finger pointed up to the iron knocker in the middle of the door, the first piece of the metal that Bill had seen on what had to obviously be a hunter hotspot or child centre much in the way the bar used to be for the little Winchester boys and the few other children who were on the road. This idea was reinforced as the boy added in a downright depressed tone, “Daddy’d know without, but he’s not here right now. He’s at work. Wish he weren’t though.”

“Well, we all wish he weren’t, but he’s doing something important right now.” Bill reached out and ran his hand over the metal before holding it out for the little boy’s inspection. As the kid turned his hand as though expecting it to change, the hunter couldn’t help but smile remembering the few times his daughter would hand out shots of holy water while her mother poured the after whiskey turn. “Isn’t that right?”

The boy nodded as his hand was released before he was ushered inside, the click of the door shutting as Bill looked around the thin, long hallway. There were a few coats of different lengths hanging by the door, the unmistakable outline of a shot gun hidden behind one and light streaming in from the staircase to the side and the door towards what seemed to be the kitchen at the back of the house. “So, do you know wher-”

“Need to go in the kitchen. All the visitors go straight to the kitchen.” Bill let out a laugh as the boy tugged at his hand and guided him down the hall, past two other doors (one which was obviously the lounge room if the sound of what he thought was Bugs Bunny was any indication) and a rather dark oil painting into the bright kitchen. “You, stay, Mr…?”

The boy’s question made the blond man realise he hadn’t asked the young child his own name yet as he took in the boy’s appearance; the rumpled dark blue t-shirt with the words 'vworp vworp' blazoned across the front over faded and torn jeans alongside the dishevelled mop of hair just added to the man’s opinion that this boy was obviously another hunter’s child. “Well, my name’s Bill. What would yours be, son?”

He didn’t expect the reaction he got at that, the happy sound of the child’s laughter hit home the way his own daughter’s always did. “Me too! Though Mommy makes 'eryone call me Billy, because she don’t like the name Bill.” Billy’s smile was a little too wide for his face, though the hunter couldn’t help but smile back at the cheerful look and sheer amusement at such a similar name, before the boy added in a loud whisper, “She always says naughty words to whoever calls me that.”

The almost conspiratorial look on the little boy’s face as he spoke of the words his mother used was so familiar that Bill could have almost sworn it was like looking down at a sharper cheeked version of his daughter at that age when she’d try to talk him into letting her hold onto his 'special ghostie knife’. “Well then, we’ll make sure to point out how your name and mine are the same, won’t we /Bill/?” He reached out a finger instinctively to tap against the boy’s nose as he joked with him, smile widening as Billy laughed loudly again.

It was then, as the pair sat sharing an unexpected joke with matching grins, that the sound of heavy footsteps down the staircase caught both of the blond’s attention. Bill wasn’t sure what to think as he realised this must be Jo, it had to be Jo coming now. He deserved to see his little girl after such a long time, and as he jerked to his feet, he almost forgot all about the little boy in front of him as he stared in anticipation as the movement got closer and a warm call came from the hallway, “Did you do everythin’ I taught you, Billyboy? 'Cause I’ll have to tell your Daddy all 'bout it when he gets back if you did.”

Bill swallowed thickly hearing for the first time in ages - well, he wasn’t technically sure how long but it had to have been a long while - the sound of his daughter’s voice. Deeper and more mature than the high pitched, gleeful child’s voice he remembered, though it still held the same happy tone through it as he savoured every second of it. He didn’t even hear the boy before him’s response, other than the vague mouth movements he saw out of the corner of his eye as the toddler waddled towards the door with a proud smile on his face, until a word stuck out to him. “Wait.. What do you mean mommy..?!”

His question was answered the second the words left his mouth as a woman around his own age who resembled so thoroughly his own little Joanna appeared around the door to scoop up Billy into her arms with the same wide, proud smile on her face that he’s sure used to appear on his when he would do the same to her. The familiarity of the little boy, the way he talked about his mommy and daddy, the lack of other children, the comment about his name; they all suddenly made sense as Bill stared in shock into the wide, almost terrified eyes of his now adult daughter.

“J..Jo?” Bill could barely recognise his own voice as he struggled to say the name aloud as he gazed at her, jaw dropped open in uncertainty as he shifted a foot closer. The woman before him looked every bit what he expected his daughter to when she was older, right down to the messy pony tail, the faintly visible scarring over her toned tan arms, the faint dark circles under her eyes that all hunter’s eventually get; all except the petrified look on her face or the squirming armful of child in her arms. “Is that really you..?”

“I.. /Daddy/?” Her voice cracked on the words as her face twisted into something much more heartbreaking than the terror from before that Bill could barely stand to look back at her as she set Billy, her /son/, down on the kitchen bench closest to her without looking. “Bob..Bobby said..”

Bill didn’t give her a chance to finish her thought, not caring what the other hunter must have tried to tell her at all, as he strode the few feet between them to wrap his daughter up in his arms unable to wait a second longer. It was nothing like the last time they’d embraced, not even a fortnight ago for him but over two decades for his child, when he’d lifted her off the ground with ease and pressed a kiss to her forehead and he promised to be home before bedtime on Sunday. She was too big to lift any more, even if she wasn’t even as high as his shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in one section rather than split in two on either side of her face. She was shaking and clinging onto him like she’d never let go again, rather than the warm but unable to fully reach grasp of the last time.

“Mommy? Mommy?! //Mommy!//" It wasn’t until the demanding sound of a child’s voice, not the almost constant sing-song tone his little daughter always had, washed over the pair of them that they were able to untangle themselves again. "What the hell, Mommy? You shouldn’t be hugging so hard now. Aunty Shady says you 'ave be careful with the babymuffins.” Billy stared at the pair of them in the dead serious way children have, the reprimand not making sense to him while it brought a watery smile and choked up laugh out of the woman who was now his daughter.

“The babymuffins are okay, Billy, I promise.” Jo’s hand slipped slowly from his fore arm as she moved to scoop her child up again, as she raised her other hand to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks as she looked back at Bill with a mixture of joy and uncertainty that hit right through him. “Though I thought… I thought your Daddy said not to say that word.”

“You say all the time, though. Only Daddy doesn’t like it.” The boy’s rebuttal made Bill smile as he focussed on the open amusement and curiousity on his, he guesses, grandson’s face rather than the complex emotions on his little Joanna’s he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to ever understand or fix; though as he caught Billy’s attention it gained an accusing quality so reminiscent of Jo’s when she didn’t believe the bar flies stories fully. “Mr. Bill… why did you hug Mommy like that?”

“Because I haven’t in far too long a time.” The response was out of his mouth without a second thought as Bill’s own hazel eyes caught his grandson’s green for one long, drawn out moment. It was like looking into the face of a cat, unable to blink or give way first lest he be found a liar before a small jiggle on Jo’s grip broke the staring contest and both Harvelle men smiled at one another. His eyes drifted back automatically to his daughter’s face, her watery eyes dry now and the complex storm of emotions almost perfectly concealed behind a peaceful look as she smiled back at him and his choice of words. “/Far/ too long.”

“Billy, sport.. I want you to meet your grandfather. Not like Grandpa Bobby, but.. but my dad.” Jo dropped her gaze first, her free hand now brushed Billy’s hair back until it was somewhat tamed as she approached, the slight waddle of her steps making him stare at her curiously as Billy reached his hands out to be held by the once stranger now his mother had seemingly given the green light. “William Anthony Harvelle, meet William Dean Harvelle. He.. he turned three five months ago.” The weight of the small boy was unexpected but so familiar to the hunter as he situated the other on his hip like a professional and shared a hand shake with him before smiles. Though Bill’s dropped the second his daughter added quietly and avoided his eyes as she pressed a hand to her unexpectedly rounded stomach, “..and I turned thirty-two four months ago.”

“Thir..thirty-two.” Bill struggled to get the number out as he stared at her, trying to reconcile that he’d lost the last twenty-two years of his daughter’s life and yet the older hunter had said this was where he was missed the most. It was hard enough to comprehend that without adding in the wiggling child in his arms, and the slightly rounded shape of his daughter’s stomach as she now stood upright without anything else in the way. “And.. four months..?”

Jo nodded her head, an uncertain smile on her face as she frowned back at him, another undecipherable look on her face. Bill was suddenly regretting not sticking around Singer’s to see his wife as he realised how hard it was for him to understand his daughter, no long a child but a full grown woman almost overnight to him. Though as Billy tugged at one of the pockets at the front of his leather jacket, he couldn’t stop the wide, happy smile at seeing any form of his daughter again. “I’m..so proud of you, sweetheart.” It was all he could think to say as Billy kicked to be set down and Bill conceded reluctantly, eyes not moving from his daughter’s until her smile softened to its natural state.

There was an almost deafening silence as both hunter’s smiled back at one another for a long moment, before Billy broke it with a simple request for a drink and it somehow sparked the pair into an unexpectedly choreographed move through the kitchen - the tradition of making Jo’s favourite drink seeming to be the same as her blond haired son. It was so familiar, so the same and so natural that as the young boy drank from the red and blue webbed sippy-cup, both Jo and Bill shifted to sit across the table from one another in a happy discussion about the last time they performed the very same actions.

As the little blond boy finished his drink and set his cup down, Bill finally asked the question that was nagging at him. Though he didn’t expect the answer to arrive the very second he asked. "So… Billy and..the baby’s father is a… hunter?“ As the final word left his mouth there was the sound of a key in the front door that left Jo wide eyed and her son to squeal and launch himself through the open kitchen door with a shout.

#4 - Sad Eyes: Or How Water And Oil Don’t Mix Unless Shaken Up

It was days like this, as the shadow headed home after his last class just after the lunch break, that he was thankful they hadn’t moved from the once dilapidated house that Jo’d found for him all those years ago. There was barely a five minute walk from his office in the art building to their front door, and as Grey jiggled the keys in the lock when the door didn’t immediately swing open - a simple code Jo’d made for if there were visitors in the house - he could feel the stress of the overly excited classes that morning vanish the moment his foot was over the threshold.

Grey’d often find himself in a day sneaking away home over lunch, if he wasn’t already finishing early, to not only avoid the prying and slightly worrisome questions he’d get on occasion from the other staff members at the high school but just to help out with the inevitable fight over eating greens at lunch or settling /everyone/ down for an afternoon nap regardless of the objections. Or the days like today when he’d have no afternoon classes or after-hours meetings that he could leave early and possibly come home to the twisted take on Jody’s advice about encouraging reading that would be mother and son curled up on the couch reading over her hunters journal, or an old tome from one of the other hunters. Though recently it had been a, in his opinion, premature introduction to some novels that he couldn’t help but think Jo was just after an excuse to read again.

Shrugging out of his blazer, the one attempt he’d make half-heartedly at the start of every semester to look more professional than a possibly starving-artist type, Grey heard the murmur of voices from the kitchen before the little boy came sprinting out of the kitchen with a shriek.

“You’re home! Mommy said that you wouldn’t-“ The little blond boy cheered as he flung himself forwards around the monster’s legs. Grey knew exactly what the boy’s mother would have said, and reaching down he ruffles the top of the other’s head, effectively cutting him off.

The voices in the other room seemed to have stopped, that they were coming from the kitchen rather than upstairs in the study-slash-storage room as they moved things around to prepare for the new baby was confusing. Most hunters wanted to be behind the thin chain of iron that Jo’d place across the door - only for the hunters sakes, though it was still a sore point every time it happened and there had been fights over the allowance for hunters to come by the first time the blonde was too heavily pregnant to expose herself to the bars or to want to move around so much. "Yeah, I know, Billy. I wasn’t supposed to be home until dinner time. But the meeting I had to stay for got cancelled and I got to come home.”

“Goodgood, ‘cause Mommy was crying before but Mr. Bill was comforting her.” Billy looks perplexed as he speaks, the same crease in his brow as his mother evident as he shares a look with the other - one small arm wrapped tightly around Grey’s leg.

“What?” What the boy was saying confused the hell out of the shadow, that Jo was crying was strange enough even factoring in the pregnancy hormones and the comment about some man with the name Grey’d swiftly begun to associate with not only Jo’s father but her son and the boy’s biological father. There’d been communication between his partner and their son’s father over the last few years, to the point they’d exchanged a few photographs and agreed for them to meet 'some day’; though the idea made him feel sick and possessive every time it was discussed, regardless how often Jo said it was a mistake other than Billy. “Whose here?”

“Mr. Bill.” Billy was far too young to understand sarcasm but Grey couldn’t hide the small smile at the almost exasperated look his son gave him. The boy smiles back quickly, reaching out for the other before directing them both towards the kitchen once he’d been picked up like an admiral directing his troops to move forward. “Mommy said he was like Gran'pa Bobby.”

The words sound all wrong to the shadow - if it was who he thought it was, he doubted Jo would try to introduce the gargantuan man she described to him during the few rocky months of her first pregnancy as being like the much older hunter and almost surrogate father. (He was honestly confused why the grouchy old man hadn’t made an 'honest woman’ out of the older Harvelle, but Grey figured he didn’t have room to speak after his, painfully, unsuccessful attempt to do just that with his own Harvelle a few years ago.) Shaking his head to loosen the scowl that was building just thinking that, he lets out a tight laugh as small fingers push at his forehead while he walks the pair of them into the kitchen.

Only to freeze as he becomes the target of both people sitting on either side of the kitchen table’s gazes; Jo’s eyes wide and unreadable alongside the pleased flush on her cheeks, while the bearded man across from her squinted at him appraisingly. There was something definitely off about the hunter across from his partner, the choice of clothes, bitten down nails, dark rings of shadow under his eyes and the way he shifted his relaxed posture at Grey’s entrance - in an almost protective way of Jo, it seemed - screamed hunter as did the hint of a  holster under the leather jacket swamping him.

“I’m goin’ to guess this here is baby-daddy himself, then?” The gruff tone and way he rose from his seat did not help with Grey’s first impression of him. He was obviously trying to puff himself up, mark his territory or force the smaller shadow to heel if the steely stare was anything to go by. Something that was not going to happen, at least not from Grey where his family was concerned as he shifted his hold on Billy despite the boy’s attempts to be let go of. “Bit scrawnier than I thought you’d be interested in, sweetheart.”

“Don’t let looks fool you.” The shadow snaps back at the thiny veiled insult, keeping a tight hold of Billy and angling him away as he steps closer to the other warningly. After a second, Grey takes the two steps towards where Jo was still sitting to lean down and deliver a quick peck of a kiss as he ignores the larger man’s presence. “The meeting tonight got cancelled, so I figured I’d take the rest of the afternoon off.”

Jo seemed to be happy, smiling widely when he says he’s back for the afternoon - though the grip she takes on his wrist has more force behind it than he thought there should be. “Well that’s good, don’t think, uh, /this/ is exactly somethin’ we could cover in your lunch break.” She jerks her head between the hunter looking purposefully in the opposite direction as she speaks, the grin on her face and eyes filling with a look Grey wasn’t familiar with as she gazed at the other before looking back at him. The ugly twist of jealousy and possessiveness he thought he’d gotten over years ago reared its head again, growing larger when Jo spoke again though the gentle rubbing of her thumb against the inside of his wrist did a bit to help slow it. “Hun, maybe you should take Billy upstairs for his nap and then I’ll… I’ll introduce you properly.”

The shadow’s glance flickers between Jo’s reassuringly pleased look and the speculative study from the other hunter, uncertain if he trusted himself to leave the pair though the yawn from the small boy still in his arms confirmed what he should do. “I’ll be right back down, Jo. I’m just upstairs if…”

“It’s fine, Grey, nothings going to happen.” He would usually object more, never quite comfortable with Jo’s trust of the others in her profession - her comfort with those she saw like herself was something he couldn’t quite understand. Though the warm smile on her face and the relative distance the other hunter was giving her was a little more comforting.

The shadow nods as he gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze and frowning at the unconfirmed man wiggling his fingers and shaking hands in a mockery of seriousness with the little boy in his arms to say good 'night’. Jerking away with a quiet, inhuman hiss - not caring right now if it unsettled the man or caused problems - Grey takes Billy upstairs, ignoring his pleas to be allowed to stay downstairs. “No, sport, you’ve got to get your nap otherwise you’ll fall asleep during cartoons this afternoon.”

“But I wanna play with Mommy’s daddy…” He wasn’t sure how to take the boy’s sleepy mumbling, though the threat of missing out on his few favourite hours of TV a night worked to silence him. The quiet triumph Grey got over the boy preferring his favourites to Jo’s at the moment was always a bright moment when the three would sit and watch a few episodes, Billy’s eyes glued to the screen even if he’d seen the episode before while Jo would pout and pull at his own hair as they relaxed on the couch like the old days for an hour or so.

Settling the boy in, almost asleep before his head touched the pillow, Grey waits a moment before smoking downstairs to the shadows just out of sight of the kitchen door, hanging back to listen as he tries to work out if his son meant what he’d said or not.

“So that’s the guy, then?” The gruff tone seemed to have doubled, the man’s voice clearly displaying his uncertainty. “He seems… different.”

“Well he is certainly that. Grey’s a good guy, takes good care of me and Billy, and the baby.” Jo sounded uncertain, almost worried, and that didn’t endear the stranger any better to Grey than the vague disapproval was. “He’s not a hunter, so please, /please/, don’t make a thing about that.”

“Guess that makes sense, what with the picket-fence dream outside, huh sweetheart?”

“You can hardly expect that I was on the road, eight months pregnant and trying to hunt things, could you? I’m still a hunter, even if there’s a home that’s not got four wheels..”

“And Mr. Civilian is part of it. Does he even /know/ about what you do, Jo? Or are you a travelling sales woman, flying here and there every other week?”

Peeking through the part of the doorway not blocked at the harsh accusation, Grey could see the man’s back and Jo’s hand resting over his forearm, a move that she’d do with anyone she felt was getting out of hand or might need to calm down. Mr. Bill, as Billy called him, didn’t move for a second before he moves a large hand to cover Jo’s in a way Grey thought was far too tender for someone who’d just appeared in their lives.

Feeling that twisted possessiveness flare up again and not able to stop himself this time, Grey pushes into the kitchen and shuts the door just in case things got louder, announcing his return. “I’m a teacher, but I know all about hunting. What is it to you what I do or who I am?” The harsh tone covers the words, the only thing stopping his powers from slipping into the question by accident, as the shadow moves to Jo’s side, slips an arm around her waist and stares defiantly up the few inches at the other man.

“Grey..” Jo hisses quietly, though she covers his fingers with her free arm as she glances worriedly between both men, silently sizing one another up. After a long moment, during which the shadow refused to back down like his partner was suggesting and seemingly the hunter was unwilling to do the same, she adds quietly, “Hun, you might want to make a good impression rather than… what you’re doing.”

“You might want to listen to her, /Grey/,” The man cut in, shifting his weight onto his heels and dropping a shoulder, the undone buckles of his jacket chiming quietly together with the movement. There was something far too familiar between the looks both blond’s were giving him - the same quirk of their eyebrows and the sharp awareness that something was going to happen, either good or bad, just drove home what Grey was starting to suspect was the truth. “Wouldn’t do well for you to try and tangle with me over this.”

“Oh, I’d love to you arrog-” Grey gets cut off sharply with an elbow to the ribs from the woman beside him, both exchanging a look that neither seemed to be winning. That the other man seemed to think it was okay to try and boss him around in his own home did not sit well with the monster, regardless of if the man was a hunter and he something which unknowingly the other would prefer at the end of a gun than wrapped around a fellow fighter like he was. But Jo’s reaction and poking shuts up up from doing more as he bites back a growl, though pulls her closer instead. Speaking softly against her ear, he keeps an eye on the other man as he tries to work out if what he thinks is now more likely is true, “You want to explain who this… guy is, Jo? Billy said he was like Bobby.”

The man chuckling as though he could tell exactly what was running through Grey’s mind was not comforting, even as the woman in his arms let out a quiet sigh. It took everything in him not to growl at the stranger’s amusement, even as Jo answered him; her voice tinged with something between awe and shock. “Yeah, he is. Um, Grey.. I’d like you to meet William Harvelle. My father. ..Dad, this is my partner Jack Grey.” Lifting her hands and those underneath and above them, she moves to attempt to make the pair shake hands, eyes darting between the stoic look on the shadows face to the amused smirk on her father’s.

The confirmation of what Billy had suggested from Jo’s own mouth helped smooth down some of his raw feelings; the dread that it might have been the other hunter coming to meet /Grey’s/ son was a little more than he’d ever expected it would be.  He’d almost worried Jo had concocted a lie for their son given he wasn’t even old enough to understand his dad wasn’t human let along that he wasn’t really his biological father. The tantrum which had ensued after they tried explaining that 'Dad’s side of the family are just /special/’ to explain the inhuman actions had only stopped when Jo’d comforted Billy with the idea that she and him were special in their own way by being the only non-special ones. That he’d reacted so defensively to the idea and the currently smug looking hunter worries him, but as Jo looks up at him so hopefully Grey swallows that down to think about later as he shifts to offer his hand on his own free will.

Staring one another down, it is a full thirty seconds before Grey lowers his hand, the waves of disapproval still coming off of the other man and the tense seconds when Bill made no move to shake his said it all. The hunter didn’t approve and he was making it clear.

“He’s wrong for you, sweetheart.” The man doesn’t take his eyes off of Grey, squinting faintly at him as thought trying to discern something from him that wasn’t visible unless really focussed on. He wasn’t used to such heavy speculation, and even as Jo unconciously grips onto his lowered hand, he can’t help but shift backwards to refrain from lashing out at such a declaration.

Grey couldn’t tell if it was him shaking or Jo, the rage flushing through him from such a suggestion was hard to see through even as his fingers were almost crushed in her vice like grip. “Dad, what on earth are you on about? You don’t even know him! I like him, Mom likes him, Bobby li-”

“I don’t give a fuck what Bobby likes, Jo; that’s something I’m trying to come to terms with. But this… guy?” The other hunter waves a hand as he speaks to gesture at the pair of them, the cut off making both Jo and Grey wince as they could imagine where he must have gotten their address from now. “There is something /wrong/ about him, can’t you sense that? I don’t think you or my grandchildren should be around him, sweetheart.”

His comments bring out another wince in the monster, the sharp hunter’s intuition seemingly not at all rusted from the time spent beyond the veil. If the sharp inhale of breath from beside him was any indication, Jo was picturing all the ways this conversation could go wrong and it was only her hand in his stopping Grey from showing the hunter just what was 'wrong’ about him.

Grey was not expecting the hunter to move like he did when no one answered him for a full minute, the sharp push back against the kitchen door jerking the shadow’s hand from Jo’s as a forearm presses forcefully against his windpipe. “Tell me, /Grey/, what the fuck you are and what the fuck you’re doing with my daughter or I will gut your inhuman body where you stand.” It’s a barely audible hiss as the older Harvelle twists his arm up, forcing Grey to lift his head back of suffer a crushed oesophagus.

“Dad! Let him go!” Out of the corner of his eye, Grey can see Jo pulling at her father’s other arm, staring wide-eyed at the pair of them as though she doesn’t want to think about what could happen if Bill went through with his threat. It takes everything in him not to just shove the hunter off, or to let him break a few bones in order to get himself free; though when he can see his partner swaying on her feet the way she would during some of the more stressful times of her first pregnancy, that control goes out the window. Shoving the other back with unnatural force, Grey reaches out to catch her arm, even as Jo sends him a dirty look. “God damn, I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about…”

While she trails off, turning to look for her father, Grey can feel the knot starting in his stomach again - though this time not from jealousy but anxiousness as the hunter in question pushes himself up off the floor and stares at him with the same look other hunters would get when faced with a twist of case and find themselves face to face with an unexpected monster. The small twitch of his hand from under the end of his jacket sleeve would usually make him feel bad to see, but Grey couldn’t help but think the hunter brought it on himself as Jo steps between the both of them to reach out for his arm.

“Joanna Beth, you better explain what just happened right no-” Bill’s voice drops considerably, and in an abstract way Grey could see another similarity between father and daughter when they got angry. The clipped tone, deeper register and way his eyes didn’t move from the focus of his conversation were all strikingly alike to the way Jo’s would.

Jo cuts in, stepping closer towards her seething father, not able to stop the quip from boiling up the same way it used to when arguing with her mother for the better half of her life. “You just threatened my partner! I don’t think I owe you any sort of explanation until you’re not going to try and kill someone in here for what you hear.”

“If that’s the kind of reaction you think you’d get then you better spill right now, sweetheart.” Bill was still focussed on Grey as he spoke, making the shadow feel like squirming inside though he remained cool on the outside. There was a direct challenge in the hunter’s gaze, and he refused to back down to it. “What the fuck is he, Jo?”

He couldn’t see Jo’s face though he could see the faint shake to her hands as she holds out a hand, Grey staying back but alert. All of the times that he’d been part of one of 'those’ conversations over the years couldn’t compare to what this one would be like, or the amount of nerves he could feel radiating off of the small blonde between him and the other hunter. “Well, Dad, you.. have it right. He’s not actually a huma-" She cuts off with a hiss as Bill’s hand shifts to the holster under his jacket before freezing as Grey acts quickly, stretching his shadow to join the other man’s and holding him trapped. Stepping up behind Jo carefully, the shadow rests a hand against the small of her back as he tries to pull her back away from the other. ”-n.“

"What is /it/ doing?” Grey flinches sharply at the word, his fingers tightening for a second against Jo’s back as she too draws back at the look her father was sending him. Keeping a careful lock on the other man’s movements, the shadow tries to lead Jo back to a chair to sit down as she almost looked white staring back at Bill. The fact he could feel Bill struggling against his powers just as strongly as the monsters and demons he would track and feed was more than a little disconcerting, feeling the desire to drain rear up on habit before squashing it down.

“Dad..” Jo sounds weary as she lets him guide her, the hold she has on his arm tightening for a moment as she stares back in the familiar face before sinking into the seat and not removing her hands from around his forearm. The colour in her cheeks was lighter than Grey had seen it in a while, and while he could see her reaction was making the other hunter calm down slightly he made a quick decision of his own.

Rubbing at the top of her shoulder and brushing her hair back from her face, Grey leans in regardless of the hiss from behind him to press a brief kiss to her lips as he holds her face in her hands before speaking as quietly and calmly as he can. “Jo, I want you to go upstairs for a bath. I know it’s probably run and cooling upstairs already, so you go relax and I’m going to talk to your father for a moment.” As Jo blinks up at him in confusion and opens her mouth to argue, he kisses her again before pinning her with a sharp look. “It will be okay, we’ll be home soon, okay?”

“What do you mean 'we’ll be home soon’, you… thing?!” The other man growls out, eyes flashing from anger at the approaching monster to concern at his grown daughter’s face. There was something in the look which made Grey’s heart skip, recognising it in Jo’s own face whenever Billy would get sick or hurt himself and she had no idea what to do about it. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks back over at Jo where she’s still fixated on watching the both of them worriedly before he steps next to the struggling hunter and reaches out before smoking the both of them away.

Setting down several miles away in an empty field, Grey keeps his hand on the other’s shoulders until he’s caught his feet before stepping a few feet back. Releasing the other, he tries to keep his voice as calm as possible as he speaks, “Mr. Harvelle, I get this is all very shocking to you, but you need to calm down and I’m not letting you back near Jo or my son unti-”

Cut off with a groan, Grey stumbles back another two steps as he raises his hand to his mouth, the slick feel of blood against his fingers and teeth bringing out another groan. Bill stares back at him, fist raised still as though trying to determine where to hit next; before sending an uppercut under the chin, teeth slamming together as his head jerks upwards. Falling back away again, the shadow keeps the other man, rubbing his knuckles with his other hand carefully, with the same watchful and alert eye as the hunter was surveying him.

Its a long, tense moment before Grey sees the other tensing as though he’s about to spring forth, reaching out as soon as the other moves to catch a hold of the punch aimed at his stomach and keep the hunter from hitting or moving back. Bill grunts through heavy breaths harshly, glaring back him with a twist of his mouth. “What are you? Why is my daughter with you? /Why aren’t you dead?/”

As the blond tugs back on his hands, Grey releases them reluctantly though keeps himself alert. When the hunter makes no direct moves or shifts to attack, the shadow speaks as clearly as he can even as his jaw aches and the numb feeling of his lips flickers in and out as he heals. “I am a shadow, a monster. Not a demon like I would assume you believe..” Bill’s face twists up at that comment, one hand dropping unconsciously to press against his chest as though holding something in, before Grey continues to speak quickly. “But I swear to you, I’m not a threat to your family. I swear it.”

Staring off like those strange western movies Jo would watch sometimes (or more like the third Back To The Future movie, Grey considers as he shifts), the hunter slowly steps back before starting to circle the stationary monster. Twisting his head to watch, the second he has to shift the other man launches again, driving the knife from his ankle into the monster’s side and twisting sharply as his large, muscled arm holds him in place. He was preparing himself for the sharp burn of iron but can’t help the relief alongside pain when it’s just the pain of the knife itself without any iron.

The blond man jerks the knife out, spinning away and preparing for another lunge before pulling himself up short as the monster merely presses a hand to the wound and looks mostly undisturbed aside from a small grimace of pain. Grey waits a few moments for the wound to heal before dropping his hand and turning to face Bill. “I swear, Mr. Harvelle, I’m not here to harm your daughter or our children." His hand stretches out in a sign of peace, though he can see the remnants of his bleeding side coating the edges of his fingers red and doesn’t need to imagine to know it looks much less peaceful from the hunter’s perspective. Dropping his hand and wiping it off, he shifts his weight back as the beefier man jumps him again, knocking them both to the ground.

Tumbling and fighting for control, Grey can’t help but imagine that if he ever has another daughter (his mind and focus slipping for a second giving the other man the upper hand as he struggles to force the thoughts that topic brings up down again) that he could completely understand the other man’s focussed aggression and protectiveness. Pulling his legs up and kicking the larger man off him slightly, the shadow rolls to the side and jumps up, muttering an apology as he does so - already mentally counting just how mad Jo might get for that move. He turns, looking around for Jo’s father to spring up from somewhere before he realises the other is still on the ground.

Approaching tentatively, Grey wipes his hand off again on his tshirt, glad for once that most of the shirts in the house were now dark colored, before offering it down to the other. The proverbial olive branch between the pair as blue eyes lock with green. There’s a moment when the monster worries that the other will try to stab him again - or worse - before the blond pushes himself up without the assistance and Grey lets his hand drop back to his side awkwardly.

"I asked another two questions, /thing/.” Bill growls the words out as he doesn’t back down from his proximity to the other, unconsciously attempting to intimidate through size and voice. Grey brushes his hands and shirt off, cringing painfully as his mouth throbs when he twitches at the choice of word.

Taking off his glasses as he considers, the shadow wipes the glass clean before resettling them and looking unashamedly and confidently back at the other. “Jo and I have been friends, and more, for years now. She was open minded enough to give me a shot after I helped her out on the tail end of a few cases and proved myself not to be a danger /any longer/ to humans.” He speaks calmly, the words slurring together slightly as his mouth aches, eyes not leaving the other’s face as he watches for any sign of movement or a negative reaction. “I’m not dead for the same reason. I’ve been able to prove myself to Jo, our son, and other hunters alike. And.. I’d like to be able to prove myself to you.”

Bill’s jaw tics at that comment, the tightening in his shoulders and the quick spin of his knife in his hands once again seeming all too familiar, as he seems to consider whats being said and just how ineffective his attacks have been. “I’d like to go back to my daughter now, /monster/.” There is no recognition of anything Grey had said in his words, but the way his eyes are more speculatively focussed rather than  hostile, Grey hopes that means he has gotten a little bit through to him. Enough that maybe he won’t find himself with another silver dagger stabbed through his gut.

“The name is Grey. Or Jack.. whatever you’re most comfortable with.” He speaks quietly, already mentally storing away that he’ll have to be extra careful around this hunter than other’s. Not that he expected any more, as he knows any red blooded male would be reaching for the iron bullets at the thought of a human man touching their daughter’s let alone something they perceive as worth dying for the crime of existing. “I’m hoping I can show you, one day Mr. Harvelle, just how much your daughter and our children mean. And I’m willing to give you as much time to get to know them and speak to them as you want, but you’re not going to make me leave - no matter how much you hate me or how hostile and threatening. Your friend… Bobby has tried it already and come to accept m-”

“/Monster/, we’re /done/ here.” The words are hissed out, sharper than anything else, and if the awkward way the hunter drew back at the mention of the woman who had once been his wife was any indication, Grey could tell someone had brought him up to speed so far as his wife was concerned. “Take me back there.” It’s not a request, or a suggestion, but an order; and while the shadow’s teeth grit painfully together and the idea of being ordered to so something, he knows the best idea would be to listen to this man’s wishes.

Reaching a hand out, there's a blink before the pair are standing back in the brightly lit kitchen of the house that has become the monster’s family home. Not releasing his hold on the hunter’s shoulder, Grey tightens his grasp when the man makes a move to head into the hallway. “If you could stay in here, make yourself comfortable; then your daughter and grandson will be down after their afternoon rests.” This time it’s his voice that’s laced with the harsh tone that says there will be no discussion and that what he says will happen goes. When the other looks like he’s about to object, Grey hold up his hand, still slightly pinkish, to stop him. “Jo may be your daughter and Billy may be your namesake, but they are /my/ family too - and I will be making sure /their/ well-being is taken care of first and foremost.”

It’s like neither will back down for a long sharp moment before Grey can see the calculation of how strong he’s proven himself and just how unknown he is occur inside the hunter’s mind before the tension is released only slightly from his shoulders. Releasing the other from his grip, Grey turns sharply - still on edge and prepared for an attack - and heads out of the door, shutting the thin wood behind him as he heads upstairs to fish his Jo out of the bath and into bed for a while. Fully prepared to stand guard on the stairs until the required time for resting is done with. Just in case.

#5 - To Sir With Love: A Teacher’s Tale

There was something deeply unsettling about being the newest teacher in a well-established school, especially considering his actual situation. He was always jumping for the first few weeks that he spoke to one of the older staff members or the principal or her assistant, expecting any moment the fallacy of his credentials to be exposed. But after that didn’t happen, in fact most of the other staff found him to be quite charming and knowledgeable in the ‘self-taught’ manner which suited the fluidity of the subject Jo had asked for her older hunter contacts to give him for specialisation.

Of course, once the fear of being outed by the staff began to recede - his quick thinking answers and the slight flexing of his powers for answers or distraction when he couldn’t get around it - came a new brand of uncomfortable for the dark haired monster. All spawned from the first time he heard, five weeks into his employment signalling the first week of the school year, the tell-tale sign of giggling and whispers from his first class ever. Grey wasn’t sure what it was, but as he wrote out his name on the white board behind him and turned about to stand and wait, he could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the hungry and almost desiring eyes on him from most of the females and some of the males in the class. That first class signalled just the beginning of the interest and his change of status among the students from 'fresh meat teacher’ to 'that teacher’, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was a change for the better.

Three weeks into term and the arrival of the end of his senior year class’ preliminary 'refresher’ course is when things changed up again - with a slightly foolish idea that came from his hunt-exhausted partner one night when he was keeping her from sleeping by worrying about what to do next. “Just get them all to sit about and talk about themselves for a week. Gives you some time to come up with something and maybe spark an idea for you.” Which is what he very quickly decided would be his next class when the blonde turned over with her front to him and an unmistakably deviant smirk.

“Okay everyone, I know we’re a while into the year to be doing introductions and get-to-know you games, but now that we all know some of the basics and not so basic things, I figure before we start on our first big assignment it’d be good to understand what each of us can and can’t do, what we like and that sort of thing, right?” Grey’s - or Mr. Grey or Jack Grey, depending on who in the school was talking to him - voice started out strong as the class finally settled down in their early morning slot, outside of the quiet whispers he was sure were never going to go away, but quickly trailed off into an uncertain ramble as he looked out at his students. There was something deeply unsettling for him that he could catch that many people’s attention at once, not particularly fond of being in the spot light. “So, if everyone can grab a chair and move the tables and stuff so we’re kind of.. less formal?”

It took a few moments for the teenagers to click that they needed to move but it was pretty quick when they did, or from what Grey could assume given how often the other teachers complained about the lack of speed from the students. When everyone was settled down, forming something like a semi-circle in the room with his desk and whiteboard being the straight section with just enough space for all of them, the dark haired man moved around to the front of his desk and pushed a few pens and papers aside to sit atop it himself.

“Okay, how about we do a quick round of names and a bit about your family and then we’ll, I don’t know, let a free for all questions where you can ask anyone anything appropriate if you’re holding, um, this.” Grey reached behind him and tossed a small Spiderman action figure towards one of the geekier looking males in the class directly to his right. “One question per time you hold it though, so, yeah. We’ll start with you Josh?”

The boy, Josh, quickly said his name and talked about his pet rat for a few seconds before he handed on the figurine which quickly made its way around the circle to end on Elizabeth who has four older brothers. Grey then indicated for her to ask her question of someone and the game started, quickly revealing to him just how hilarious teenagers could be if left to almost unsupervised fun. That was until a bleach-blonde called Mary decided to turn the tables on him. “Mr. Grey,” her tone made him cringe internally, knowing what that meant from years of hearing it before something he’d usually deem 'inappropriate’ for most people, “what about you? Do you have any family?”

Grey caught the figurine when she tossed it across to him, as per the amended rules, and rolled it about in his hand before he answered. “I’ve got a lot of brothers and sisters. More than any of you at least, though I only really see three of them often - two brothers and a sister - and our parents are dead.” He passed the toy back to Josh, asking him a question about the cartoon style drawings he’d noticed the boy drawing regularly before the game continued.

Tracey, a rather plain girl Josh asked for her favourite hobby, then turned the attention back to their teacher with the same yearning eyes as the first girl but lacking the same potentially troublesome tone. “Is there a Mrs. Grey, Mr. Grey?”

“No, I don’t actually have a wife.” Grey stumbled over the response a little and all at once was bombarded with the sudden perk in interest and joy within the class’ feelings that he threw up a hand. “Okay, okay, I think we’ve asked Mr. Grey enough questions - back to one another guys until the bell goes.” He tossed the Spiderman across to a boy called Brad before moving around his desk again, trying to ignore the dramatic sweep downwards in emotions as he pretended to fiddle with some of the papers in front of him until the bell went. Not knowing that he’d just sparked a school-wide interest in finding out about the private life of the new art teacher.

It wasn’t until six weeks later when the teaching staff and students were back from the Thanksgiving weekend that he picked up on just what was going on. Grey had noted an influx in interest from students and teachers alike about what his plans were on a weekend or what he was planning to do on Friday night - but hadn’t thought anything peculiar about the slight disinterest and annoyance at his vague answers about 'having a night in’ or 'I don’t know quite yet’. Though he hadn’t noticed the slight increase in whispers and eyes on his back, having adjusted to it and chalked it up to the general distrust and observance by students of their teachers to remain vigilant, nor the number of invitations for family or 'get to know you’ dinners from the other staff members.

What sparked off his awareness of what was happening was the innocent answer to 'What did you do for Thanksgiving, Jack?’ as he walked with the slightly aging maths teacher Donald Kelly that he spent it mostly with the kids and the almost deathly silence which followed. Grey looked about curiously as the older man shot him a confused look at the revelation that he had children. “It was Fiona’s first Thanksgiving with us, actually - or at least the first she’ll remember.” Grey added hesitantly, not sure how to take the incredulous look of the way his words seemed to be echoed through the halls by other voices to one another before the moment passed.

He shrugged it off for the next few weeks, answering the staff questions a little more freely about his family - or at least the children - and even retelling a few funny stories about his oldest child’s first day of school that year with some of his art classes as Grey began to feel more comfortable as time wore on. Still there was something strange about the way the questions were phrased - not asking about the children’s mother once. The dark haired man particularly found the questions or comments, most from that early morning senior art class, to be interestingly spanned with little reference or comment about whoever his partner was other than that they must have won the lottery if there was one. On occasion Grey wanted to set the record straight, but when he’d first talked to Jo about starting teaching she had warned him to give as little away about his real life as possible - and given the role of her within it, he was even more reluctant than talking about the kids now the cat was out of the bag about them.

It wasn’t until the next Monday morning lesson that he worked out what the true interest, other than what had been affectionately termed 'teacher crush’ by his lover, in his personal life was - when the middle of his class was interrupted by the sound of a young child crying and the unmistakable whining voice of a six year old.

“Mom, I don’t get it. I’m big, I can come with you! Uncle Dean used to go with his dad and not get left at home when he was my age.” The shock of blond hair peeking through the doorway before the whining tone changed to excitement as the light haired boy turned back to whoever he was with before entering. “I found him! Dad, Dad, tell Mom I can come along with her and not stay home this time. /Puh-lease!/”

The entire class stopped as the small boy, extremely small for his current age, barrelled into the room and jumped atop Grey’s back, clinging and practically begging him with bright green eyes. The dark haired man, shook his back, catching the boy around the waist before he sat him down again - hand firmly gripped in the other’s hair at the top of his head to stop any mischief. “What do you mean this time? She’s not supposed- Jo, you said you didn’t have any cases this week.” Grey’s, along with the stunned and quiet teenagers, attention went to the blonde who entered after the boy.

She juggled with the rather large baby bag over one shoulder and the crying dark haired baby, barely over a year old, in her arms as she looked back at him with a small frown. “Well I didn’t, but then something came up - close enough I’ll be back by the weekend. No one else is near enough to take care of it this time, Hun, I’ve got to go.” Jo shrugged her shoulder, baby bag dropped to the floor before Grey’s desk as she wrestled her hair out of the little girl’s grip and approached Grey.

“D-does Principal Evans knows about this, the kids I mean?” The dark haired man instinctively reached out both hands, letting the younger boy go to go start inquiring and talking to the stunned and smiling students, to take the baby from her, hoisted onto one hip as he added quietly, “You’re going to be okay with this by yourself? You’ll call in to-”

“-night and leave the numbers to contact and where I am, yes I know the drill, /Dad/, don’t worry.” Her voice mimicked both him and the young blond boy as well as she lent in to brush her lips against his in a farewell. “Everything is cleared with your boss, Grey, and I’ll call when I know you’ll be home. I’ll see you on Friday hopefully, /and be good for your dad, dammit Billy!/” Jo’s voice rose into a firm, yet still amused, tone as she caught the boy’s eye and headed out the room with another round of goodbyes - not even acknowledging the students as she left again like a storm, there one second and gone the next. Leaving in her wake a very energetic young boy, a now sleeping little girl, a slightly concerned but happy teacher and a shell-shocked classroom.

Right up until Mary, now with shockingly pink hair, shouted happily from her seat as Billy approached and began to stroke her hair in a typically curious child’s way, “I knew he’d be with a blonde girlfriend! Someone text Dylan for the betting to be closed!”

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

You can pick which ocs or all or none! Just some general questions: what's their daily routine? Dream job? Favorite baby names? Favorite animal? And comfort movie/movie genre?

ANON HELLO LOVE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKIN!! :D

This is gonna be for all of them, sooo…. under the cut bc I’m Considerate X’D

Daily Routine:

JuneWake up at 5AM because they crashed out on the couch and forgot to shut the blinds the whole way so Bright, stumble into bed till 10AM when their dog Taco wakes them up again. They feed him, have breakfast (usually leftovers.) Occasionally at this point they will go back to Hell for a while, check up on things (they are the Master of the Kennels after all, Dante’s happy to cover for them most of the time but they still have some Responsibilities.) On a normal day, though, they’ll probably just stay inside watching the worst Netflix has to offer (they love picking things apart/making fun at how bad it is.) In the evening, they always take Taco out for a walk (sometimes they do so in the morning as well.) Once it gets dark, they go out to the night’s bad diner/restaurant/fast food place and have fun terrifying the humans. Then they come home, have a shower/bath, do a face-mask, read one of the numerous shitty romance novels they have, and end up falling asleep on the couch most nights.

AugustWake up at 6AM or 12PM depending on whether or not she drank herself into unconsciousness the night before. Eat some healthy breakfast involving a lot of fruit (especially peaches, she loves peaches), and then she usually goes for a nice flight to stretch her wings for the day + wake up properly. After that, it’s work at home time (if she’s employed, sometimes she’s not.) Due to her ADHD, she suffers a lot from lack of focus and executive dysfunction, in order to combat that, she takes several long breaks throughout the day: to work out, to eat lunch, and to practice dance. When the sun sets, she eats dinner, goes for another flight, has a shower/bath, pampers herself a bit, and then practices her sword-play until 10PM, when she goes to bed or starts drinking till she passes out, depends. She has a few days a week dedicated to dancing, and goes to visit her siblings frequently - not to mention that her routine changes whenever she has a partner.

MyriadHonestly, they don’t have a routine. They’re so chaotic and they act almost entirely on their whims; if they want to do something, they will do it. The only consistent things in their life are hanging out with their many friends and doing their job, AKA. punishing the wicked in the most painful ways they can think up. So they could spend a day go-karting, a day assassinating someone for a lot of money, a day watching Disney films, a day spent in a club, a day fighting a unicorn while Mothman and a Jersey Devil watch and take bets, honestly who knows, my dude.

GingerShe never stays in one place too long and is travelling most of the time (she prefers driving to flying, and will hellgate her way onto a different continent instead of take a plane.) She’ll wake up either in the back of her car or in a cheap roadside motel and get on the road, stopping at any place that looks interesting (she’s especially fond of retro diners…. and yes, if there’s a jukebox, she will absolutely select a few What’s New Pussycat-s.) Might drop by to visit some friends, might flirt with a few girls as she goes. A life of adventure, rinse and repeat.

DanteDepends on where he is (eg. in Hell vs with Jesse and Vrox in their apartment), but the foundations stay the same: wake up early, take a shower, eat breakfast, warm up, work out, and then get down to business. Even if he wasn’t in Hell, he’ll go back there because managing the Kennels is his job, after all. He’ll check in on all the hounds, make sure everybody is accounted for and that nothing disastrous has happened (looking at you, Alric, we don’t eat people, do we?) He’ll check in on any new souls/hounds that have joined during the night and give them an explanation and welcome them into the pack. Then it’s time for lessons: aka, fight training. He normally teaches in big classes since it’s more efficient, but he occasionally does it one-on-one or two-on-one, etc. He also has an on-off mortal job teaching self defense when he feels like it. By the time it’s done, the day’s over. He might crash out straight away, or he’ll go back to earth and spend the night with Jesse and Vrox, or he’ll go and check up on June and spend time with them. Of course, he has days off, but this is his usual routine.

JesseWakes up at about 5:30AM, takes a minute to regret staying up till 3AM the night before, says good morning to boyfriend(s) within hearing range, puts his earbuds in to listen to music (alternatively talks to Dante if he’s there, because he’d always get up at the same time as him), then makes himself an absurdly big bowl of cereal and chows down. He has a job as a cashier in a 7-Eleven on weekdays so he normally goes to that, he also has an art class in the evenings every Tuesday. After his shift, he’ll go and check in on Vrox, who volunteers at an animal shelter, and they’ll normally go and get a late lunch. Then it’s normally home, or, if it’s a Tuesday, home by 10PM. He normally selects an album of choice and cranks the volume on the speakers, orders takeout for dinner, has a shower (using most of the hot water, rip Vrox), and dances (badly) with his boyfriend(s) until it’s time for bed. But… to put it delicately… not a lot of sleep happens right away. ahem. Also, if there is some kind of protest that he agrees with, he is most likely in on it holding a sign. He and Vrox have fighting lessons with Dante just like all the other hounds.

VroxUsually wakes up when Jesse does, but goes back to sleep because his shift starts at 9:30. He gets up, eats the leftover takeout if there is any leftover from Jesse’s bottomless pit of a stomach, and heads off. He’ll send a bunch of cute/funny photos and texts to Jesse throughout the day about the animals. Most of the time he schedules his therapy appointments for Tuesdays so while Jesse’s at art class he’s also doing something productive. He goes home afterward, has a quick shower in fear of the hot water running out because his asshole boyfriend always uses all of it, has dinner, enjoys the skull-shaking music blasting through the apartment, and goes to bed. He often loses control of his anger and needs to be locked up in a cage in Hell for a few days until he can change back from his hound form, but mostly his life is pretty uneventful.

BenHe’s a consistent little mouse man who tries to keep his head down and whose life has no surprises or excitement whatsoever. He wakes up at 7AM, has a shower, makes an instant coffee while he gets dressed, and goes to work, most often without any breakfast. He’s a teacher, so he’ll work the whole day, grab a sandwich from the little shop on the corner not far from the school when he has a moment, and then when the day’s over he’ll go home, heat up some canned soup or something and eat dinner while reading. He’ll go to bed, read for a few hours and most likely fall asleep while reading in the most uncomfortable position possible. Rinse and repeat. His only source of excitement is when Ginger shows up without warning and drags his boring ass out to do something fun for once.

EmalaLike her older brother, Emala is very dedicated to her work, which is in her case being a nurse at a children’s hospital. It takes up most of her time and she feels guilty any days she takes off, thinking that she should be there for the kids, and that as an angel she could do a better job of taking care of them and keeping them safe (not that she ever thinks this as insult toward human nurses, they are saints in her eyes and extremely talented.) She has a routine that runs super smoothly, get up early, drink some citrus tea, make her bed, say hello to her pet bird Sweet, have some breakfast, and go to work. When she gets home she lets Sweet out again, makes dinner, has a bath, occasionally does a face mask if she has the energy left or otherwise just moisturizes her skin, then crawls into bed, and admittedly cries most nights. Her job is incredibly taxing on her, she feels like she fails with every patient lost, and crying helps. She’s a big campaigner for unashamed crying. On her rare days off she either spends time with her siblings, goes for a wander around the city, or takes an Uber out into the countryside and finds somewhere nice for a picnic… but honestly most of the time she just chills out in her apartment with Sweet, reading, drinking tea and watching art tutorials because they are deeply calming to her.

MarsMars tends to spend a lot more time in Heaven than his siblings: he is the leader of his particular ‘family’ of angels, so he has more responsibilities than they do (it’s a running joke that he just boils with fond exasperation that they get to run around doing whatever they want while he has the ~REAL~ work.) Much like Dante with the pack, Mars make sure nothing disastrous is happening, that nobody in the family is breaking God’s rules, that they’re guarding the humans correctly, etc. When he is on earth, he enjoys travelling and doing whatever he wants whenever he wants. While he has no patience for work, he does greatly enjoy learning, so he often takes classes on subjects he is interested in. He has a lot of friends so he spends a lot of time at parties, mostly holding them himself since his homes have a lot of space. And if he has a partner at the time, he will be spending a lot of time with them… unfortunately. And he visits his baby sisters a lot, because Father knows he needs to look after them.

TacoBARK AT PIGEONS. A LOT. ANNOY THE MASTER. A LOT. EAT. A LOT. COMPLAIN ABOUT NOT HAVING ENOUGH FOOD. A LOT. BITE THE MASTER’S FEET. A LOT. WAG TAIL VERY A LOT. GO FOR A LOT WALK. MAKE NEW A LOT NEW FRIENDS. NAP. A LOT. FUN!! :D

Dream Jobs:

JuneThey landed their dream job already. Master of Hell’s Kennels. Very minimal work on their part since their second-in-command does most of it gladly. All they have to do is check on things every once in a while, other than that, they can kick back and relax. As you may be able to tell, June is a lazy little bugger - and proud of it, too!

AugustShe actually likes her current job quite a bit: graphic design. It’s calming for her, she gets to be creative, and since she can work from home, she can adjust it as needed for their mental health. She also tried being a ballet teacher… she liked it in theory, but she’s not the best teacher, unlike her eldest brother.

MyriadThey own several nightclubs, they also have a tendency of making certain people disappear while also mysteriously acquiring a large amount of cash around the same time. Generally if you pay them, they’ll do pretty much anything… just make sure you don’t try to sic them on a target who is a good person, that won’t end well for you since they always do their research. But they are the demon of punishment, and the work they were made for is by far their favourite job.

GingerShe’s had pretty much every job there is to have in her very long life, but none of them suit her. She prefers to be a free, unemployed bird with all her amassed money, only working when she absolutely has to. She’s no exactly picky though when it comes to it, so long as she’s not stuck behind a desk/generally unable to move around, she is an energetic gal.

DanteSoldier. But since June’s grounded him from fighting in any more wars since he almost got himself killed last time (and almost left THEM with the full responsibility of the pack, how dare he, it’s not at all like they actually care about him or anything it’s not at all like that) he’s fallen back to the next best thing: self defense training (and in the case of the pack, war training.) He likes the idea of helping people become stronger and more confidant, with the upside of maybe saving some lives. He also likes being the pack’s enforcer and June’s second-in-command. He enjoys looking after his new, big family, and he’s always been a natural leader.

JesseFamous artist. At least, that was his dream as a little kid. Now with the whole ‘living forever’ thing, he’s sort of given up. He doesn’t want to have to fake his own death or anything. He doesn’t really know what he wants anymore, and while that does make him feel sad and listless at times, he’s also pretty content with his life at the moment.

VroxHas never had any idea. He really like being around animals, though, maybe when he’s got his anger issues more under-control he’ll seek out actual work with them, like being a dog trainer.

BenBefore he fell, he was very reckless and irresponsible and never wanted to do anything work-related. After he fell, he realized what a jackass he’d been and also realized that A) he’d always loved kids, B) he has a fuck ton of knowledge due to how long he’d been alive, and C) wanted to become a teacher. He threw himself into the career and he loves it.

EmalaShe’s the angel of healing, it’s always been her thing. She flits from being a nurse to being a doctor every couple of centuries or so, and she prefers to work in children’s hospitals since she has a soft spot for kids, like her older brother.

MarsHas always been pretty happy with being the leader of his angelic family, even if he does complain about his little sisters getting off Scot-free while he got landed with it. He has absolutely no patience for mortal jobs, though, especially since his time on earth is his free time, he doesn’t want another job.

TacoIs very happy + content with his role as June’s therapy animal companion and protector (because a tiny black pug is absolutely terrifying and very fierce and absolutely nobody would mess with him.)

Favourite Baby Names:

Honestly part of the reason this took so long was because I was wracking my brains trying to think what they liked, but they wouldn’t talk to me about it. A lot of them have literally never thought about it, since demons are infertile (or rather, they think they are) and angels are forbidden from ever having children - and most of them don’t give a shit. But, that being said:

JuneThey were going to name their baby girl Lía.

AugustLikes the name River. She just think it’s pretty, not intended for any baby tho since the idea of piping-hot-mess-August with a baby is pretty laughable, even without God’s rule in place.

EmalaReally likes very common baby names, like Tom for a boy and Ava for a girl. Though she is proud of being an angel and her power and her ability to help others, sometimes she just wants a normal life with a normal family. She desperately wants children of her own, always has, though she tries not to dwell on it, because it makes her sad.

Favourite Animal:

JuneDogs. They hate dogs slightly less than they hate all other living creatures.

AugustShe likes cats. Like calls to like, I guess, since she practically is a cat in angel form.

MyriadSnakes. Hey, venomous buddies gotta stick together! (She actually has a very not venomous pet ball python named Albert.)

GingerHorses. Speed and power are kind of her thing.

DanteSharks 110%.

JesseActually loves cats and is devastated that cats no longer like him.

VroxLoves all animals but does have a soft spot for small ones like mice/hamsters/etc. They’re just… so small… if you want to see Vrox terrified, fascinated and borderline teary from love just dump a hamster in his hands.

BenThere’s a little spider that lives in the corner of his room next to his stack of philosophy books. He hasn’t named it, but they exist together in a companionable peace: if you asked him, he’d say it was his favourite animal.

EmalaLoves birds with her whole heart and is always salty that birds tend to like August more than they like her.

MarsLoves birds like Emala, particularly birds of prey. He has dabbled in falconry several times and greatly enjoys it.

TacoHIMSELF. ALSO. ANYTHING BUT PIGEONS. 

Favourite Movie Genre(s):

JuneAnything trashy and terrible, no matter what the genre. June is a connoisseur of shitty things and loves ripping things to shreds like the little vulture they are. They love bad horror movies for the bad special effects, bad romcoms for the terrible plots and forced chemistry (though they do kinda gag a bit at the romance because they are~ ~allergic~ to love.) Generally if you give them a terrible movie, they will be the world’s happiest little demon. Their absolute favourite ones, though, are slasher horror films and black comedies.

AugustShe loves romantic comedies, NEVER LET HER TELL YOU ANY DIFFERENTLY. She also likes dramas though.

MyriadCan watch and enjoy anything, but prefers lighthearted things like comedies and particularly likes slapstick because they’re an actual 2 year old. They also enjoy thrillers and sci-fi.

GingerAbsolutely an action gal but will also go for a romance anytime.

DanteLikes Disney/Pixar movies and is kinda proud of it. Also finds westerns and action cool.

JesseHonestly loves art films and niche/indie films in general. He gets a bit annoyed that so many amazing movies are never shown to the wider public eye and is on a mission to find/watch them all. + Since he missed out on so much time between the time he died and now, he watches a wide range of movies from black-and-white to the present to try and catch up.

VroxLikes adventure/action/thriller movies, or generally movies where, quote “things actually happen.” no he doesn’t share Jesse’s more metaphorical and creative streak

BenHe, with a lot of shame, likes family movies. He’s so stressed and sad in day to day life, he doesn’t want to feel that while watching fictional media. Whenever he does actually get around to watching movies, he wants the feel-good stuff.

EmalaRomance, documentaries, drama, mystery, fantasy - Mala loves a wide range of movies. And while horror isn’t her favourite genre, she can watch any horror movie without flinching once; she’s rather unimpressed by them.

MarsDefinitely that guy who goes back to watch the old silent films a lot. He doesn’t like fast-paced stuff, prefers mysteries and dramas to anything else. He thinks comedy is a bit tasteless, and likes well-crafted movies that have deeper meanings.

TacoDog movies!! Movies with dogs!! Yes!!!!1!

[memoirsofamessybitch]

In My Mind Part 5

Joe x Fem Reader 

Warning; Some strong language. 

Okay another long delay but my job is a nightmare! Enjoy @lizgarxo @deakyswhitequeen @echlomusic

Prologue  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I felt kinda numb for a while after the initial pain of seeing Joe remotely interested in someone else. I mean who was I kidding anyway, no way someone like me would gain the real interest of someone like him. The engineer, whose name was Becky; was stunning, cool and trendy. She had a nose ring and her hair was always immaculately coloured and styled. Damn, even I would wanna date her. I tried to slink out silently and without attention but of course I was apprehended by someone, it's never just that easy to wallow in solitude.

“You look like the sky is falling or something, what happened?” Carl stopped me in the parking lot. I sighed and looked down at my shoes.

“I think Joe likes Becky from sound, I saw him....winking at her on set today, I mean how long has THAT being going on! Being all cute and flirty with me then as soon as he's on set; oh Becky let me stare at you longingly across the way and fucking WINK at you, I bet he's bought her coffee too....fuck sake” So it seemed I wasn't totally numbed after all. After my outburst I looked back up at Carl, who had cocked an eyebrow in confusion at me.

“Girl you need to calm the fuck down....its a harmless wink, look let me see what I can find out and I will put your mind at ease, but YOU need to focus on learning how to not act like a total ass in front of Joe tomorrow, you've got him in the chair for 3 hours first thing in the morning....don't fuck this up okay” He grabbed my arms and shook me, almost like he was giving me the most bizarre pep talk of my life.

“Okay stop...stop shaking me, I'll try and just act like....normal?” I screwed my face up in confusion. “No...I'll just...be myself” I slapped my hands down onto my side and dropped my shoulders.

“Yeah, but less crazy talk like before okay?” Carl tilted his head as I pushed his shoulder playfully. But he was right, there was no need to act the way I did. I had an opportunity to actually have an actual adult relationship, one that felt like it could go the distance. I couldn't let another chance get away from me to be, dare I say happy.

I remember going home that night and playing one of my records as I took a long hot bath. The soothing sounds of (insert song/band) made my soak a little more special. But not as special as the oils I had added to my bath, plus the very expensive body cream I rubbed on my self afterwards. Sometimes working for big stars had their perks, when you're gifted La Prairie body products you take them but use them sparingly. I felt like I'd earned this pamper. That was not like me at all earlier that day, jealousy was not my colour and I planned on never wearing it again. I slept well for a change, I didn't dream just slept. I woke up remembering not to feel sorry for myself. Perhaps I wasn't going to be good enough for Joe, but the very least I could do was convince myself that I could be.

My small bursts of confidence seemed to stay with me, until I arrived at work and began setting up. I tried to focus on the room for a moment, to try and calm my nerves. The sun was rising slowly and the warm oranges and yellows cut through the blinds and over the trailer, then I noticed I was alone surprisingly, so I decided to practice what I was going to attempt to say to Joe.

“You busy tonight?” no too vague and short I thought. Then I paused and looked at my reflection longingly.

“I like you...and I sound 5 years old” I closed my eyes and shook my head. I took deep breaths in and out then opened my eyes.

“I'd really like to talk more, outside of work....” Suddenly the door slammed open and Joe and Brianna came in laughing and chortling. I picked up a brush and started spraying it with water nonchalantly.

“Hey Y/N” Joe put his hand on my back as he made his way over to my chair. I exhaled heavily trying to contain any kind of moan that may have left my lips in that moment. Every bit of confidence I had spent the previous 12 hours building up escaped me. I just watched him sit down and wait patiently for me to smock him and begin my day. “Okay....something spooked you or have I done something?” of course I wanted to mention Becky but I just halfheartedly smiled and shook my head.

“Just tired” I said in almost a whisper as I tied the smock around Joe's neck. Joe's scene where his corpse is found was being filmed today and I had my work cut out. 3 hours of making Joe look somewhat decomposed. Lots of liquid latex was in order and airbrushing of course.

“Well you better make me look gross, I want you to be unable to look at me afterwards” I couldn't help but smile and giggle at his playfulness. I gripped his shoulder and lent down to his level.

“You're gonna look so gutted and rotted their gonna have to raise the age rating on this damn film” Joe chuckled and my heart skipped a beat. Every time I heard him laugh I just felt every part of me get warm. I got started before I let the butterflies in my stomach distract me any more. The first hour flew by I started painting on a base of greens and greys and yellows on his skin. The opportunity to ask Joe arose, we were looking at one another in a somewhat intimate position as I was brushing his skin delicately. I could have said something, I should have said something but instead I watched Joe's phone go off, my eyes focused on his screen and I saw Becky's name pop up. I couldn't tear my eyes away, so much so Joe caught me looking. I think he noticed the colour drain from my face, and the quivering bottom lip too.

“Y/N you okay?” was all he responded with.

“Is that Becky from sound?” that was the last thing I wanted to say but I fucking said it anyway.

“Yeah....we exchanged numbers not long ago; she's nice I guess”

“You guess, she's cute...she's really cute” Shit...just pure shitting word vomit, I tried to control it but I was just....too far gone.

“Yeah...but she's not...there's something not quite there between us”

“What like what we have?” Internally I was screaming; SHUT UP! STOP SPEAKING YOU STUPID BITCH OR I WILL STAB A PAIR OF SCISSORS INTO YOUR LEG. Joe laughed then sucked in his bottom lip.

“Y/N are you upset in some way...maybe even jealous?” He was teasing me, I got angry....very angry suddenly.

“What you want me to be?” I snapped back in a pointed tone. I wasn't expecting that in all honesty, but what Joe had said really got to me. I wondered if he had done this as a ploy to get me to reveal how I really felt? Maybe he liked to pit female crew members against one another, see how many he could gather.

“No...I....seriously are you mad?” I stood up and looked down at him, a frown on my face clearly visible. It was quiet and all I could hear was True by Spandau Ballet playing in the background.

“I just thought maybe...you know what it might be best to get someone else to finish your face before I say something stupid” I threw my brush down and ran straight for the trailer door. I don't know why but I walked onto an empty set, it was dimly lit and cold, but it was a safe space. I sat on the cold concrete floor and tried to compose myself. Deep breaths in and out, trying to escape somewhere else in my mind. I was so pissed at myself, more so than ever before. I felt foolish for thinking that letting someone make me feel the way Joe did would be a good thing, school girl crushes leave you hurt and confused, I should have kept my distance, I should have left. I pressed my hands on the cold ground and felt my warm clammy palms cool slowly. I heard footsteps which caused my eyes to flick open. Joe stood about 2 feet away from me, looking down at me, and I looked very clearly defeated.

“Yeah I'm a mess, I can't believe you made me think you liked me” I pointed at him almost sneering my nose up at him. “I do like you, for fuck sake Y/N I can't believe how blind you are to it, how many fucking hints I was throwing your way....do you think I brought coffee for ANYONE...no...” He pointed back at me. It was hard too take him seriously with his face painted in such odd colours, I stood up and faced him straight on. I crossed my arms and bit my bottom lip so hard I almost drew blood. “You just never made it clear you liked me back, I saw how you acted with everyone and I wondered if it was just how you were, so I started talking to Becky a couple weeks ago” I interjected.

“Well you know now....god I feel like such an ass...does Becky know how you feel?” I chewed my lip still, I felt sick, I begged for a hole to appear for me to fall into.

“No, considering I'm supposed to be going on a date with her tonight makes THIS whole thing a little awkward”  I was hurt. Clearly it showed on my face because Joe tried to approach me. But I stepped back.

“I just wish you weren't so quick to jump to the next crew member, just because I wasn't on my knees from day one Joe doesn't mean I didn't think about you all the time, the moment I met you I was pretty hooked, what made her so easy to talk to and not me? What did I do wrong?” Joe stepped to me again and I stepped back holding my hand out. 

“Nothing...I'm cancelling my date, she needs to know how I feel about you” He pulled his phone out from his back pocket, this time I stepped to him, and I put my hand on his phone to stop him from unlocking it.

“You should go, at least see how you feel about her unless you're gonna stand in front of me and tell me you love me or something” I laughed awkwardly. Joe didn't. Foot steps echoed throughout the empty lot, We both looked in the direction of the doorway to see my boss looking pretty fucking pissed to say the least.

“If you two are done fucking around I got a director all over me about why one of his actors isn't in a make-up chair?”

“Sorry” was all I said as I led the way towards the exit, Joe following behind like a worried little boy....

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

BTS Suga Soulmate AU *Fluff*

Hey guys! What’s up? So, I’ve been using the app to update but I think I’m going to switch to using the browser because I have a lot of editing stuff to do. I need to work on my master lists. I think I’m going to update my browser one as well, but I’m not sure. There’s a lot that has not be put on it. I really loved writing this and I really hope you guys like it! As always, if there’s anything that you guys want to see, please feel free to send me a request! I love writing what you guys want to see! Lets get into this, shall we?

Soulmate AU Explanation: here

Profiles: Here

     You can feel exhaustion soaking into you as you wait for the bus to come. It’s early evening and you had just gotten off of work, having started some time early this morning. People wander everywhere, seeming directionless and lost. After working late last night, you’re a little bit out of it, exhaustion beginning to steal your concentration. You wait near the edge of the curb, the bench taken up by two boys your age who seem deep in conversation. You find yourself staring at your phone to pass the time.

     “Watch out!” A voice behind you shocks you as a hand wraps around your forearm, pulling you away from the curb. A bicycle speeds through the space you had been standing in moments before.

     The fear and adrenaline you should be feeling are the last things on your mind. The hand on your arm is freezing, almost as if they belong to an ice sculpture. You find yourself staring at his fingers in shock as ice slowly ebbs its’ way up your arm. Frost spreads from his fingertips, feathering its’ way up your forearm. You had heard about the different kinds of manifestation that come from meeting your soulmate but you had never seen one so physically overwhelming. He releases your arm quickly, staring at him hand in shock.

     The palm of his hand is painted with frost, which had started to edge its’ way to the top of his hand. The same frost encloses your forearm, close to your wrist. It appears delicate yet harsh, somehow. His finger brushes across the frost on your arm. Where his touch had once been cool, it now feels warm. It’s as if your skin had grown accustomed to the cold and could now bear to be touched by it. When he touches the frost with a single finger from his other hand, it feels hot for a brief second before the frost wraps around the tip of his finger, cooling his touch.

     “Holy shit,” He breathes, his eyes meeting you to mirror the shock you had yet to find the words to express.

     “I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit, tracing a finger over the frost on my arm. I’ve never seen such a volatile reaction between soulmates.

     “Well, I guess I should introduce myself,” He steps back a little and rubs his hands together nervously,” My name is Min Yoongi.”

     “I’m Y/N,” You say softly,” I hope we can get along.”

     You’re not quite sure what else to say. He’s attractive with dark hair and pale skin. Although he’s taller, his stature is smaller. You don’t really mind that though. His friend seems to be watching him with a mixture between restrained excitement and complete shock. He bounces up to him, his lanky form practically vibrating.

     “You found your soulmate! Who knew you would be the first one?” The boy’s voice is loud and a large smile takes over his face,” My name is Jung Hoseok and I’m one of Yoongi’s friends.”

     “It’s very nice to meet you,” You can’t help but smile at him, enjoying his excitable nature.

     “Here,” Yoongi’s soft voice captures you attention once again. He holds a phone out to you, a contact screen open. You fill in your information and hand him the phone again. Suddenly being confronted by your soulmate sends a nervous feeling washing through you. He offers you a shy, but gummy, smile. At this point, the bus pulls up and he has to go. You sit on the bench and watch your soulmate climb onto the bus, the frost on his palm winking in the light.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

     You nervously wipe your palms against your jeans. You had agreed to meet Yoongi to get coffee and you could practically feel yourself shaking. This is the first time you’re seeing him since your first meeting. You’ve texted a lot and learned a lot about each other but he seems to have quite a busy schedule. He has admitted to be completely uncomfortable with the soulmates concept. He doesn’t trust himself to know how the handle this situation properly. You admitted you were just as scared as he is.

     “I’m sorry. Did I make you wait long?” His voice wraps around you as he approaches.

     “Not at all! I just got here myself,” You tuck your phone in your pocket and take a moment to fix your hair.

     His outfit is casually sexy. He is dressed for cooler weather, which has been approaching quickly. You both order your drinks, which he insists on paying for, and decide to take a walk near the river. The conversation is casual and he’s nothing like you expected him to be. Although he’s quiet at times, he smiles and laughs a lot. You can’t help but love that smiles and what it means. It’s unlike any smile you’ve ever seen and it always manages to pull at your heart strings.

     “What do you do?” You sip your drink, letting the heat soak through you.

     “I’m a music producer. I’ve been doing it for a couple of years now and I’m pretty satisfied with it,” One of his fingers brushes against the back of your hand, the cold shocking you once again. The comfort comes immediately after, bringing a smile to your face. It’s weird that such a shocking and overwhelming feeling has already begun to bring you comfort. Physical contact is a huge thing for soulmates and has the potential to calm even the craziest emotions.

     “That’s amazing. I can’t imagine it was an easy thing to do,” You find his fingers wrapping around yours and you can’t keep the smile from your face.

     “It’s not but it allows me to feel proud about what I do. This is what I’ve always wanted to do and I don’t want to lose that,” He admits, staring down at your entwined fingers quizzically. The frost slowly climbs up your hands, pushing its’ way past your sleeves and disappearing farther up your arm. You can feel it spreading across the rest of your body the longer your hold his hand. As it spreads, you notice it grow fainter. It makes your skin seem paler with the frost resting delicately on your skin.

     “I will say, I definitely wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate at a bus stop,” As the cold wind sweeps past you, you find yourself burrowing into his side. It wasn’t a conscious decision but more based on instinct. He releases you hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You can see the frost resting on his neck, it’s movement ceased by the loss of skin contact. Yours stopped somewhere around your collarbone. You can feel it, crazy as that seems. It’s almost as if it has become a layer resting directly over your skin. Something tells you that it will melt into your skin when it covers your entire body.

     “If I’m completely honest, I wasn’t expecting to meet mine at all,” His free hand rubs against the back of his neck,” I’ve never been a big fan of the soulmate concept.”

      “I wasn’t either. It always seems like some weird fantasy that doesn’t actually exist. I’ve never seen a soulmate sign quite as… dramatic as ours,” You look up to see two tall figures practically sprinting toward you.

     “Hyung!” A voice bellows from one of the tall figures.

     “Tae? Kookie? What are you doing here?” A small black and brown ball bounces toward Yoongi. You can’t help but smile as a soft look comes over his face. He crouches down to pet the small dog, whose entire body is wagging with his tail.

     “Are you going to introduce us, hyung?” The boy with lighter hair asks, his eyes searching yours.

     “This is Y/N. She’s my soulmate,” Yoongi stands with the small dog enclosed in his arms.

     “Really! That’s so cool!” The light haired boy turns to you,” My name is Taehyung!”

     “Jungkook,” The other boy is quiet, his eyes flickering between the two of us with interest.

     “So Hobi-hyung was telling the truth? None of us were quite sure if we could believe that you found your soulmate first,” Taehyung chews on his bottom lip before his eyes widen,” I don’t mean that in a bad way! I just meant that you weren’t really invested in the idea of soulmates…”

      “You’re right. I’m glad I’m wrong,” Yoongi turns to you with the small wiggling puppy,” This is Yeontan, Tae’s dog.”

      You reach out your hand almost nervously to pet the wiggling puppy. He sniffs your hand curiously, before licking it. His long hair runs through your fingers as you pet him. You glance up to find Yoongi smiling at you, once again. Jungkook’s eyes widen.

      “You don’t smile like that very often, hyung. She must make you pretty happy,” Jungkook grins and playfully pushes Yoongi.

      “Watch it,” Yoongi doesn’t sound angry but he quirks an eyebrow at him,” I’m still your hyung.”

      The four of you talk for a while before Taehyung realizes he’s running late for a schedule and the two children bound away with a yapping puppy at their feet.

      “Sorry about that. They’re a bit of a handful sometimes,” Yoongi looks at you nervously.

      “They’re nice,” You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The cold blooms and you relish in the feeling. It makes the moment feel more real, less like the dream it feels like.

      “We should probably get going. It’s going to be dark soon,” He takes your hand once again and you feel more relaxed.

      The two of you end up at his apartment. You help him cook dinner and the two of you settle in to watch a movie. You curl into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. Soulmates always seem to gain an instant comfort and joy in the presence of the other. It feels instinctual. Toward the end of the film, after you had finished eating, you look up at him and relish in the beauty that has now found its’ way into your life.

       He glance at you and smiles. In the next instant, his lips are pressing to yours. Once again, that icy feeling spreads across your body. It spreads from you lips all the way down your throat. Soon, you can feel it all the way to your toes. When you finally pull away, he’s just as breathtaking as he was before.        

Before your eyes, the ice sinks into his skin, becomes one with it. Along with that comes the feeling of acceptance. Having a soulmate scares the shit out of you, but it also excites you for the possibility of what it means for your future and for his.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to send me any requests you might have!