#this is actually longer than my drabbles normally are jesus

[fuwafuwamedb]

Mr. Phone Sex Man (GIL POV) (Hakuno, Gilgamesh)

Enkidu was sneaking out of work again.

Not that he blamed the being, he’d sneak out too if he had a woman like Shamhat waiting at home for him. He hadn’t missed the way that the being had looked at their phone. He hadn’t missed the way that the being had been murmuring to someone while heading to the usual closet to hide in.

They’d been ready to leave the moment they had arrived and now, with clearing their schedule, they were heading home.

He smirked though, dialing Enkidu’s number onto his new phone and holding the phone to his ear.

The moment that they answered-

“What are you doing right now?”

He said it more like a sex caller, just for laughs.

What sounded like a large cat growled nearby on the other end, making him stop. A female’s voice answered him.

“I’m looking at a great beast,” a droll voice told him. “He has the most majectic mane I’ve ever seen, a great strong jawline, and I’ve seen him tear apart countless enemies and devour them.”

Well…

Sitting down at his desk, Gilgamesh found himself smirking a little.

The woman didn’t give two shits about this being a possible sex call. How interesting.

“Oh?” He asked.

“He has the greatest body, all muscle with great claws that I’ve attended to personally.”

“You did?”

“Mhmm. Utu appreciates being attended to. He’s a good lion.”

The name had him laughing. That was a name he hadn’t expected. Didn’t most people name their lions dreadfully boring names these days? Or after countries where lions live?

Utu though.

And she sounded so darn proud of her beast on that end of the line.

Probably a zookeeper. What strange luck I have.

“Tell me of his teeth,” he insisted.

“Oh, great chompers,” she praised. “Although he’s no good at holding the toothbrush. Talk about a fault. The beast has no idea how to hold his toothbrush. Don’t get me started on his catnip.”

“He’s an addict then?”

“Terrible addict.”

Her lion grumbled near her, loud enough to be heard on his end.

“You should see this oversized housecat,” the woman told him, “already begging me for his fix like I’m some kind of dealer. He wants to roll in the ‘nip all day. I bet he wants a box too. Expecting me to provide him a shelter from the outdoors just so he can tear the walls down.”

“Dreadful,” he leaned back, watching a few of his accountants arguing with his secretary to see him. He waved them off, needing another minute.

This wrong number had gotten interesting.

“The worst. Thank the gods this beast knows I’m a sucker for assholes.”

Obvious she was a sucker for assholes. She was remaining on the line with him, someone regarded by many, including that of Camelot Enterprises, as the largest asshole in all the land. Of course, that could have been because he was cutthroat with his Uruk Incorporated.

He made most believe him to be an actual god.

“How sad,” he purred. His eyes were following after the accountants now rushing around Siduri. He didn’t have long to tease this woman. “I’m sure your family must be disappointed. I’m afraid I cannot relate.”

“Says the man who calls during the middle of the day to do what? Have phone sex?”

So she did think it of him? He snorted.

“Absolutely not. I’m simply calling to have a conversation about a catnip addicted, desperate lion with majestic manes and grooming habits attended to by a rather average sounding woman.”

She’d hang up and sob. She’d get pissy. She’d-

But the woman on the other end all but purred her next words to him, having him pause.

“If you flirt with me any harder, I may come right here in the lion exhibit.”

“Climaxing at work,“ he started.

“Don’t give me that, Mr. Sex Voice. A woman has to be able to finish her workday.”

She hung up on him.

Well…

If she desired to finish her work day, then fine.

He made note to recall in the evening.

His roar sent the accountants back out of his office. His temper at Enkidu leaving him the work with the marketing team for the weekend had all of the interns quivering.

There’d be no games this weekend.

They had merchandise to sell.

It was later, looking out at the glimmering lights of the city, that Gilgamesh found himself dialing her number again.

“Hello?”

The voice sounded almost tired.

“Ah,” he purred, “my Lion Tamer answers.”

“Mr. Sex Voice again. Did my first taunting not work?”

Sex Voice? That was a new one. Then again, so was calling a woman back without ever meeting her. He settled himself upon his throne of a seat near the window, loosening his golden robes and listening to that oddly melodious voice.

Had it been like that earlier? Perhaps he had been too busy to notice.

“I was so amused I decided to subject myself to another round of your banter,” he told her simply. “How were the lions? All limbs still in place?”

Tell me you’re deformed, he thought. Tell me how the lions have stolen a finger or arm. He could be vain.

“I was licked to death after I hung up. Utu was incredibly jealous that I was spending so much time talking to you. He insisted to remove the memory of you from my mind. It almost worked too. Damn, you should have seen him in that catnip.”

He smiled despite himself, trying to cover his grin with a hand, “You gave him the catnip?”

“The whole container,” his woman told him. “The lion was higher than a kite.”

What a shameful woman, he thought. “What kind of zookeeper are you?”

“I’m a vet.”

Impressive.

He had seen a vet before. In fact, he had one on retainer, usually coming for his pure bred that was currently fluffed and stretched out upon his bed.

A vet for large animals though- “Ah,” he told her. “wanted to get paid?”

“I appreciate having money in my pocket sometimes.” She was doing something on her end of the line. It sounded like she was cooking. “But Mr. Sex Voice, I don’t believe you got any work done. It sounded like you were jacking off to my talk about Utu.”

“I was thinking about some average looking woman actually,” he told her. “I was imagining her slammed against my office desk and moaning loud enough for the secretary to hear.”

“An office grunty, does your boss know that you’re jacking off in your cubicle.”

Oh if she could see his office.

He’d seen mightier women than her fall.

He could easily pay her salary for a decade with his month’s salary. The very thought had him laughing a bit.

The ignorant could say such amusing things.

“Woman, there is no boss. I am the leader of this company.”

“I hear compensation from your end,” she sang.

He choked on the wine he had picked up and sipped at.

“I assure you,” he growled, “nothing lacks in my regard.”

She was humming skeptically.

Was this truly a vet or merely Enkidu having a go at him?

He looked around at his place again, noting that his home computer had a message on it from Enkidu. The being was trying to video call him right now. He would need to answer that at some point soon.

Then again, the being had left him for Shamhat.

“So,” he went on with his sultry voiced vet. “What are your plans this evening, Ms. Lion Doctor?”

“Entertaining a very bored man sitting in his tiny apartment.”

“I’m sitting at home, actually.”

He gestured, as though she could see him.

“Home alone on a Friday night. You poor thing,” she lamented sarcastically. “Are your usual strippers taken? It’s so sad. I feel like you’ve got all the best strippers in town on speed dial.”

“Oh, but then I’d have your number,” he countered.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but you do have my number.”

Shit. She was right about that.

He wondered if she’d be so sarcastic while sucking him off on her knees in his place though. He laughed at the mental image of two gleaming eyes glinting in amusement. He could almost imagine some plain woman on her knees before him.

She’d definitely be a plain thing. The more beautiful they were, the more sensitive and unwilling to trade barbs with him like this they were.

“What does a vet do on a Friday night?”

“Dinner dates as a third wheel, Karaoke with noise cancelling headphones firmly in place, quiet nights drinking wine and eating cheese on the couch.”

Boring.

Try again, he thought.

“Virgin,” escaped his lips.

“Says the phone sex man.” The sound of a television was coming on over on her end of the line. “It would seem I need to go.”

“Date?”

He’d find her and make the man broke.

“Dead phone. Apparently, technology says you’ll have to just imagine me taunting you until you cum.”

Oh, he had to call back now.

“I will call back,” he vowed.

She hung up again.

He looked out at the city and thought about her for a long time. He closed his eyes, ignoring his computers and his devices so that he could think about how much he had enjoyed her breaking up of the monotony.

There was nothing that fun in his life right now.

Things were always contained, straightforward. They lacked a zest that this woman seemed to have so easily thrown over him.

He’d call her back in the morning.

The morning had him running into his office again though, listening to the marketing team describe the fragrance and show him a meek looking model.

“Pathetic.”

He watched them defend their slogans, arguing that it would be effective, but it didn’t have the bite it needed.

It wasn’t arrogant and bold.

A smell for the senses?

Scents that made sense?

He could have had Enkidu come up with something better in an instant.

The being wasn’t answering their phone though. They were taking the weekend off, according to Siduri.

Perhaps he should have answered those video calls.

He threw the things from his desk, sitting atop it and looking out at his view, dialing the only number that would calm him now.

“Good morning, Sex Voice.”

He held onto his desk, barely keeping himself contained. “Already awake?” he asked.

“Back with Utu. He seduced me greatly so I’m back in his habitat, trimming claws and checking bloodwork.” She cooed towards Utu a moment, a sound that made him loosen his grip on the desk underneath him. “I’m sure a man like you would not know of Saturday shifts.”

“I’m sitting, annoyed, in my office.”

He didn’t need to tell her that.

However, saying it aloud made him feel the fool. It had him actually sitting down properly at his desk now, calming as the woman on the other end of the line clicked her tongue at him.

“Ooh, did one of the interns learn that you have phone sex while they’re working?”

She had him chuckling with that. “Actually, we’re working on a marketing proposal.”

One that was going to be immediately destroyed when he was done with this call.

Screw the branding nonsense. He had no need for this marketing idea.

The woman hummed at him though.

“You seem very focused,” he told her. “No catnip for Utu today?”

“I thought about it,” she told him. “But you know how addicts are. Sometimes you have to ween them off. You have to make them face reality. Hitting me up for a fix won’t fix things. Besides, Utu has a musk to him that should be left alone, free of catnip and whatever else he rolls in.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. He’s a king, after all.” Gilgamesh held his breath as he heard her next words. “A king should always smell like a woman’s next meal.”

His eyes went to the slogans that the interns had come up with.

A king should always smell…

He was laughing.

What was it about this woman, he marveled, scribbling down her words. “I  might use that,” he warned.

“What? That kings smell like a woman’s next meal?”

���Yes. It beats the marketing team.”

“Mhmm. Are you going to drape yourself over a chair and hold the bottle in hand, letting your hair be a bit unkempt to show that you’re both capable of ruling and getting down and dirty?”

“…Want a second job?”

He’d hire her in an instant, letting her pick her own benefits and salary start. With the sarcasm and wittiness she showed, she’d have an instant talent for his marketing team. Siduri would love her. Endlessly.

 “Cheer up, Phone Sex,” she told him, ignoring his offer like the strange mystery goddess that she was. “You sound more upset than Utu is about his ‘nip.”

He had his slogan and instructions written out and leaving his office with Siduri. He turned, sitting on his couch in his office and talking to her longer.

He called her again that night.

“Nothing on a Saturday night?” he asked, grinning in pleasure at the woman’s availability to him. She was his, wholly.

He was good at acquisitions too.

He ate his fine meal, stroking at his cat, Ninsun’s, head and listening to the woman tease him.

He called again from the gym, delighting in her quips about his strength while he warmed up and prepared to meet and wrestle with Enkidu.

He called her again in a traffic jam, letting her voice pour over him like the finest of wine.

Again and again.

Siduri dialed her up for him after a tense meeting, simply closing his door and directing his staff away.

She complained of monkeys that refused their medications.

She doted on Utu over the phone to him.

She just-

He stared out at the heavens as he stood in his condo and stroked Ninsun’s fur, listening to the woman yawn loudly.

“I’m falling asleep, Mr. Phone Sex,” she confessed.

“Dream of me then, Lion Girl.”

He could almost hear her smile on the other end of the line before the call ended.

His lips pressed to the dark fur of his Ninsun’s head, finding himself calmer than he had ever been before.

He’d have to find his Lion Tamer soon.

He’d have to bring her home.

[lovlieziam]

YOUR DRABBLES ARE MAKING ME SO HAPPY,THANK YOU.Also can you do 140 and 97?

I’m pretty sure you looked at the prompt list and went “what two prompts will be the absolute hardest for Brooke to combine?” and then chose two completely unrelated prompts so coming up with an idea to be so damn hard. (Also I’m sorry for taking so long y’all I really chose a bad week to reblog that list I’ve been SO busy)

97. “Don’t touch me.”

140. “I swear my house is haunted.”

Being Zayn’s friend had a lot of perks. Really, it did. Liam loved it, loved Zayn, it was just, sometimes—

“What did you just say?” Liam mumbled, groggily rubbing a fist into his eye as he forced his body into some form of wakefulness.

“I said,” Zayn started, “I swear my house is haunted.”

Liam let out a deep sigh, resigning himself to a drawn-out conversation about weird house-related noises at—Liam levered himself up a couple inches to check the clock—3:47 am. Which was—it was fine. He was totally coherent enough at the ass crack of dawn to have a conversation about potential ghosts.

For fucks sake.

With another sigh—hopefully quiet enough that Zayn couldn’t hear—Liam asked, “Why do you think your house is haunted, Zayn?”

Zayn let out a soft, choked laugh, before whispering, “Because I’m hearing so many noises. Like, more than usual.” There was a pause before, “Hey, actually, what’s a normal amount of sound for a house to make? Like is there a defined amount of noise a house is expected to make before it becomes a concern? Because I think we’ve passed that point now.”

Liam swallowed the light laughter that wanted to work its way out of his throat, instead trying to focus on actually responding to Zayn’s words. Before he could, however, Zayn continued with, “Or maybe I’m just being robbed.”

He said the words so casually, so normal-like that it took Liam a full twenty seconds of processing before—

“WHAT?!” He yelled, slinging himself into an upright position before abruptly getting out of bed. “What do you mean you might be getting robbed?”

“I don’t know, Liam! I mean that there’s a chance I’m getting robbed!” Zayn whisper-yelled. “There’s a lot of noise coming from downstairs and I’m sure as fuck not going to go and find out what’s causing it! I’ve seen horror movies!”

Liam let out a startled noise, his heartbeat picking up in his chest. “Zayn what the fuck,” he muttered, shouldering his phone so he could use both hands to grab the jeans from the chair in the corner and yank them up his legs. “Literally what the fuck. Why didn’t you lead with that?”

All Zayn did was let out a soft, non-committal noise on the other end of the line. Liam kind of wanted to shake him.

“Jesus, Zayn. Why didn’t you call the police?”

Zayn made another noise before, “I’m probably not being robbed, right?”

“Zayn!” Liam closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath before he continued. “Zayn, hang up the phone and call the cops. Right. Now. I’m coming over. I’ll be there in eight minutes.”

“But it’s a fifteen-minute drive—”

“Eight minutes, Zayn. Call the cops!” With that, Liam hung up, his pulse still thundering loudly in his ears, his nerve causing minute quakes to travel through his hands.

If Zayn got himself killed before Liam managed to work up the nerve to ask him on a date, Liam was going to murder him.

The whole ride there—eight minutes, just like Liam said—there was a constant chant of pleasebeokaydon’tbedeadormaimedwhenIgetthereplease running through his head. When he finally arrived, his breath caught in his throat at the lack of cop cars in the driveway. He would bet anything Zayn didn’t call them.

With his heart in his throat, Liam hazardously parked his car before throwing himself out of it and up Zayn’s stairs. He didn’t bother knocking—if there were already people in Zayn’s house, it sure as fuck wasn’t going to make them suddenly disappear.

He threw the door open, expecting to see Zayn’s front room in utter chaos, and maybe a few masked criminals scrambling around, grabbing anything of value. Instead, he was met with Zayn’s empty corridor and the sound of his TV’s low volume echoing on the hallway walls.

Okay, so maybe he’d broken a few speeding laws for no reason except playing into Zayn’s dramatics. That was fine. That was okay. He was about to do worse when he got a hold of Zayn, anyway.

Rolling his eyes at the eerie sounds the TV was making—some documentary about antient aliens coming to Earth and abducting people—Liam made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time and heading towards Zayn’s room. When he entered, Zayn’s back was to the door and he was shifting through something on top of his dresser.

Liam crossed the room, reaching out to touch Zayn’s shoulder. The minute Liam made contact, Zayn jolted violently, jumping at Liam’s unexpected presence. He swung around, a book in hand—a fucking hard back, where did he even pick that up from?!?—and began swinging it at Liam.

“Don’t touch me, foul beast!” Zayn shouted, waking Liam in the shoulder with the book again.

Liam threw his hands up, yelling, “Zayn! Zayn, stop! It’s just me, fuck, stop!” Liam curse again as Zayn paused in his assault.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Liam. I thought you were, like, a ghost or something,” Zayn mumbled. He ducked his head, a pink hue taking over his cheeks.

Liam stared at him for a moment because—was he serious? “You thought I was…a ghost,” Liam said slowly. “A ghost,” he repeated, just to make sure he was hearing this shit correctly.

“Yeah—”

“Zayn you told me you thought you were being robbed!” Zayn winced a little, still not meeting Liam’s eyes. “I told you to call the cops!”

Zayn crinkled his nose, focusing a frown at the ground as he obviously worked through his thoughts. After a moment, he looked up to meet Liam’s eyes with a sheepish grin. “I realized after I said it that saying my house was haunted sounded kinda dumb. That it made me sound like a scaredey-cat. But, um, being afraid of burglars is totally reasonable and much less pathetic, so when the idea struck I went with it.”

Liam stared at him for a beat. And then another. One more, just for good measure, before—

“Zayn, you’re such an idiot.” Liam had meant to sound stern, disapproving even. But instead, his voice had come out incredibly fond and sweet. Goddamn but was he in love with this idiotic man.

“Fuck, I know, Liam, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

But Liam did let him finished, too relieved at the fact that Zayn was safe and he was blushing that adorable color that Liam found so damn endearing.

So, really, Zayn left him no option except for him to surge forward and capture Zayn’s still moving lips under his own, cutting off whatever embarrassed apology Zayn was in the middle of.

Zayn stiffened, making a low, surprised noise before going completely lax in Liam’s arms, pushing himself into Liam’s space and melting into the kiss. Liam heard himself make a happy noise in his own throat, before tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He lingered for a moment longer, trying to soak up as much of Zayn as he could, before pulling back with a final peck.

“You’re an idiot, and yet here I am, hopelessly in love with you anyway,” Liam murmured, his voice low and warm and incredibly fond.

“You’re in love with me?” Zayn gasped, his wide eyes burning into Liam’s.

Liam laughed in response, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against Zayn’s. “Yeah. Why do you think I raced all the way across town the minute you said your house was haunted?”

It was Zayn’s turn to laugh, his breath fanning across Liam’s face and making Liam’s own grin impossibly wide. “You came because I said I was being robbed.”

Liam shrugged. “Semantics.”

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms and soaking up each other’s warmth, before Zayn whispered, “I still think my house is haunted. Liam, there were so many creepy noises.”

Liam reared back, a loud and obnoxious laugh bursting out of him. He started laughing so hard he was forced to lean over, too afraid he’d accidentally throw himself backwards if he didn’t.

He didn’t see Zayn’s pout from his bent position, but he could hear it in his voice when he said, “Liam I’m being serious! Those noises don’t just make themselves!”

Maybe when Liam caught his breath, he’d be able to tell Zayn his downstairs TV was still on and that was most likely the cause of all those noises.

[xiubaek-13]

Unusual Suspects

Prompt: Minseok (feat Baekhyun, sorrynotsorry) + “You taste like fucking candy.” + “You heard me. Take it off.”

Setting/AU: Vampire

Warnings: it’s kind of a crack drabble, mentions of blood & death, supernatural themes, swearing, standard vampire stuff, implied smut.

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: Again, sorry this took so long anon, I hope you enjoy it. The idea was originally going to be a witch/wizard au but the vampire one came to me after seeing this prompt and I kept laughing about it so I had to make it happen. 

***

  Knock knock.

You groan from underneath the pillow you’d put over your head in an attempt to block out the incessant knocking at your front door. Who the fuck door knocks at this time of night? You sleepily grabbed your phone, the screen illuminating, temporarily blinding you while showing you the ungodly hour of 3am.

    Knock knock.

Three in the fucking morning. You had no missed calls, unread messages or anything to indicate that someone needed you, and really, if they needed you then odds were that they also knew where your spare key was kept and would just let themselves in.

    Knock knock.

You threw the covers off in a huff, half asleep, barely human and 100% pissed off - like a cat when it has to have a bath. You got up and stumbled to the door, your equilibrium not quite caught up to the fact that your body was upright and moving. You did pretty well to only fall into the wall twice.  

Your hair was a mess and you probably had drool on your face but those were things that alert people considered, not abruptly awoken in the middle of the goddamned night people. Those people only had three thoughts - Do I need to pee? Who do I kill for waking me? And Can I go back to sleep now?. You flung the door open - again, alert people would probably have some sense of self preservation and maybe not open the door at 3am to complete strangers - and grumpily sized up the two people in front of you. Why the fuck did they look so pleasant and AWAKE? The two men in front of you seemed pleasantly surprised that you’d opened the door.

They didn’t look at you like they’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes knocking on your front door, no they looked like the picture perfect missionaries who usually woke you up (at a much more reasonable hour of 8 or 9am). One wore white, the other wore black. Both had black hair, styled more than your standard missionary would have theirs but who knew what the hell these two did given they were knocking on your goddamned door at 3am, maybe they were a bit vain, you didn’t care. They looked rather harmless to you in your current state. The only thing that stood out were their eyes, those were far too intense for your standard missionaries, even your barely awake, murderous self could see that. Still, there were people knocking on your door at 3am who looked poised to try and sell you on the word of god and you were not having it. Jesus would want you to be well rested if he expected you to follow the thou shalt not murder commandment.

All you wanted was to go back to bed and be left alone. 3am was not  time for a conversation on your doorstep. You wanted them gone, the sooner the better. “Seriously, what the hell do yo-”

The one in white smiled sweetly at you as he stepped forward and asked. “Hello! Do you have a minute to talk about Dracula?”

You couldn’t believe you were about to shut down the messengers of god this early in the morning but here you were. Normally you played along then gave some witty remark about making a deal with a crossroads demon or telling them that you were actually the antichrist, or that you were waiting for your human sacrifice to turn up. Those were always post coffee conversations, when your wit was less bitchy. These two weren’t getting any of that treatment today. No, you were going to keep it short and sweet. A simple ‘no’ then you could close the door and go back to bed. “No- wait, Dracula?” Well that was unexpected. It did explain the stupid hour of the day though.

“Yes!” The one in black stepped forward as well, smiling warmly, happy that you’d basically recanted your rejection of their presence.

“You’re vampires?” You asked. You weren’t quite awake enough to remember two very, very important things. 1. Vampires were not real and 2. If they were by some weird twist of fate, actually real vampires, then you most definitely should not invite them in. You should close the door, go back to bed and sleep it off. You didn’t do that though, instead opting to rub your eyes and take a proper look at these alleged vampires. The one in white was slightly taller than the other. He had broad shoulders, dark tousled hair, khol lined eyes & a lean body. Everything about him appealed to you, which made sense if you were to believe that he was a creature of the night. You could happily ogle him for hours but you mind reminded you that a) it was rude to stare and b) there was another man for you to roam your eyes over. You stared at him unabashedly which didn’t seem to unnerve him, if anything it interested him. He was only slightly taller than you, with dark hair that fell into his feline eyes, which were also lined, but with a smoky red liner. His black shirt clung to him and you could see that whilst he wasn’t as tall as his partner, he was muscular.

As you stared at the two men the one in black smirked at you and spoke softly. “Yes. We have pamphlets.” As he spoke the other held out one of the aforementioned pamphlets in his delicate fingers. This whole encounter so far was utterly ludicrous.

You took it from him and flipped it over in your hands, confused as the logical part of your brain tried to get through to you. “Vampires have missionaries?” The concept seemed utterly stupid. Vampires were the fictional beasts from gothic horror. They were entities with powers that were almost unmatched, not quiet door to door missionaries like the pair standing in front of you. Still, you had questions. Even if they were scamming you, they had piqued your interest.

“Where else would new vampires come from?” The taller of the two asked, cocking his head to the side as he laughed lightly at your question like you were the one saying crazy outlandish things.

“I assumed you bit people.” You shrugged. If you were to believe the tales from your childhood, vampires - still fictional - created more of their kind by biting someone and draining them of their blood, and once the person was at death’s door they fed them some of their blood. Then they let them die. Once the victim died the blood in their system would raise them as a new baby vampire. The stories were always like this, some small variations existed here and there but what do semantics matter when the whole concept is fictional?

The shorter one frowned slightly at your response and nodded, clasping his hands behind him. “There are many harmful stereotypes. May we come in?”

“I guess.” Was your stupid answer, stupid because had you been more awake or even remotely concerned for your safety you would have never let two strangers into your home during the day, let alone at 3 in the goddamned morning. But the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. Not even five minutes ago you’d been ready to tell whoever was at your door exactly where they could go and/or what implement to shove up their own ass so that you could get yourself back into bed and back to sleep but here you were, stepping aside to let the two men (whose names you hadn’t bothered to ask because manners were also apparently not a thing right now) enter your home.

You led them to your kitchen and started to pour yourself a glass of juice. “Should I offer either of you a drink or is that a little on the nose?”

The taller one laughed and shook his head. “And she’s funny at 3am, I like her.”

“I must apologise for my partner. He appears to have forgotten his manners. My name is Xiumin & this is Baekhyun.” He inclined his head towards his partner who just seemed happy to be indoors.

“We don’t usually get this far to be honest. People usually say some rather crude things to us.” Baekhyun looked around the room, his eyes shining. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks? It’s a mess right now but it’s super early or super late, who the hell knows, and I wasn’t expecting guests.” You stifle a yawn as you vaguely gesture around the room.

Xiumin stepped forward, drawing your attention back to him. His sharp gaze held you in your spot as he smirked and closed the gap between the two of you. “You know, you really should be more careful. Letting two complete strangers into your home at any hour is a risk but in the dead of the night after they told you they were vampires? That’s downright stupid.”

You froze as you finally realised the position you were in. Whilst they weren’t hulking muscle pigs you were outnumbered and you were pretty sure they were still stronger than you. “The vampire thing is a joke though, right?” You half heartedly laughed. “I mean they aren’t real…”

You turned your head as you heard Baekhyun chuckle from across the room as he inspected some of the photos you had pinned to a board. He paused with a photo of you and your best friend in his hands and looked at you, his eyes darker and more menacing than before. “Oh my dear, vampires are very real. We’ve just had to amend our methods of conversion over the years.” Your eyes widened in fear as you spotted his fangs as he spoke. “We figured it worked so well for the church over the years, so why not try it. We increase both our numbers and our real estate portfolio for every home we’re invited into.”

You were scared, there was no point in denying that fact, but the more time you spent with the two of them, the more comfortable you felt in their presence. The longer they spoke to you, the less terrified you became. You figured you’d try to keep them talking until that fear subsided a bit more. Then you’d be able to work out a way out of this, negotiate with them or something.

You kept them talking, asking their answers to other common stereotypes associated with vampires. You figured they’d have to have them in case someone didn’t let them into their home but still wanted to talk. Their answers were so well formulated and convincing that it almost undid the two and a half decades of fear mongering you’d been fed. Almost. Twenty minutes later, you were still terrified and fearing for your life. You didn’t want to die yet, you still had recipes you wanted to make and what good were they if you couldn’t stomach food anymore? Would animals hate you if you were a vampire? You’d sooner die and have that be it than live out an existence where every dog and cat hated you.

You must have given a voice to those fears because you heard Baekhyun chuckle again as he moved back across the room towards you. “You shouldn’t be scared little one.” Xiumin sighed as he continued to stare at you. “We’ve been watching you and think that you’d make the perfect addition to our little family. I promise, we’ll let you enjoy your time with us before we turn you. You’re less likely to hate us after if we show you how good one of our kind can make you feel.”

“And who said we have to turn you tonight?” Baekhyun added. “Darling, we have so much planned. We can take our time, work out all of these niggling human concerns of yours.”

Xiumin held your face in his hands. “Tell me no after I kiss you and we’ll turn you now, but if you tell me yes then you’ll have a night that you won’t regret.” He attached his lips to yours. You felt the soft, plush lips against yours and strangely the fear you had started to dissipate. He didn’t force the kiss, seemingly waiting until you either pushed him away or made a move to show him you wanted to continue. Either way, you were going to die tonight. That much had been made clear. The choice had been made and there was no way you were going to be able to fend off two vampires and not die a horribly painful death. In the back of your mind your brain gave you two options, either die now or let them give you pleasure before dying. It even threw in the possibility that you were still dreaming and if you were dreaming then you’d obviously go for the option of sex with two hot vampires.

You settled on throwing caution to the wind, something you’d done a lot tonight, and responded to his movements allowing him to take your bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue swiping along it. He released your lip and kissed you again, this time deepening the kiss. He varied the pressure he applied, giving you soft kisses then deep hungry, breath stealing kisses. When you eventually broke the kiss you were panting as you tried to catch your breath. You meant to ask make a witty comment about how that was a bold move for a missionary but what came out of your mouth was more of a moan than words.

He trailed kisses from your mouth down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your flesh. “You taste like fucking candy.” He groaned into your shoulder as he momentarily stopped himself.

His voice was a low rasp and you thought he’d said something but you were too caught up in how his mouth felt against your skin and didn’t hear him. “Sorry what?”

“You heard me. Take it off.”

[chaoticneutralwriter]

The Grinch Who Stole New Year

You no longer like Christmas, you love Christmas. But perhaps it was still your heart that grew three sizes before the end of the year.

guardiandemon!Jimin x reader

genre: slice of life, supernatural, fluff, comedy

word count: 4.4k

A/n: You know me, I never get stuff out on time LOLL But to make up for it, I tried to do a mash up of the two big holiday/season into this one drabble. Hope everyone’s had a great holiday and a happy New Year! 2019, let’s get this bread. Forewarning; it’s half unedited so....asfsdkgh

 December 31st

 “You look awfully happy.” Jaehee comments from the kitchen threshold. You glance up only briefly, not bothering to hide the dopey, wide smile you currently have. It makes Jaehee laugh before she asks, “Is it the guy you told me about?”

 You sputter, nearly knocking out the lone ear bud you’re wearing with how you jostle your laptop to indignantly squawk, “As if!” You take a hold of your laptop and turn it just slightly to show her your paused screen, cooing affectionately as you say, “It’s my boys.”

 “Oh.” She drags out the sound and rolls her eyes playfully, “Should’ve known.”

 You grin back at her before continuing where you left off. Curled up on the sofa with the fluffiest blanket, sipping one of your favourite white wines, you’re watching your copy of BTS’ Seasons’ Greetings 2019 on your laptop. Sure buying it might’ve put a rather large dent in your wallet but in your defense, it was deemed to be your Christmas present to yourself. Plus, in your opinion, it’s worth every penny. 

 “So what happened to the guy then? Did you ghost him or something?” Jaehee calls out again, coming to settle on the other end of the sofa where your feet haven’t reached.

 “Oh… him.” You reply offhandedly, paying more attention to the conversation the group was having on screen but at the thought of…. him, you can’t help the snort that comes out of your mouth that isn’t entirely because of BTS’ antics.

 Oh, Jimin…. Well, your demon version of Jimin…. 

 You can’t say you feel completely sorry for him because ever since the season to be jolly had crept closer and closer, he had become more and more like a mixture between the Grinch and Grumpy Cat and while it should’ve made you a little apprehensive of his temper, you were absolutely loving it.

 -

 12 days before Christmas

 “On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” You find yourself singing as you work on stringing the Christmas lights up so that they frame your living room windows. You stand back to admire your handy work, still humming the song and you can’t help the giddy wiggle when you see how perfectly the lights twinkle in rhythm.

 “You bought more lights?” A begrudging voice sounds from within the darkened depths of your room. You turn and the grouchy mood your room invader has does nothing to dampen your own high-spirited one. In fact, his appearance looks too much like a certain grumpy house cat that even his glowing ruby eyes doesn’t detract the image. It makes you choke back a giggle, which seems to make him bristle (much to your delight).

 “Don’t you know that you can never have enough lights?” You make show of reprimanding him as if you’re an over-enthusiastic grade school teacher, hands on either side of your hip and head slightly tilted. He glares harder at you and you think this is the perfect chance to rub it in his face more. “And guess what else I got?”

 You whirl around to reach into your shopping bag and pull out your two additional purchases, shaking them excessively in both hands with excitement and a shit-eating grin stretching so wide you feel your cheeks starting to hurt. “Santa hats!” And they’re not just any old, normal looking ones. They’re red sequined and they jingled.

 “You’re disgusting.” is your only response before he promptly slams the door shut to your room. But you can’t be bothered, too busy cackling to yourself from his reaction. You’re honestly living for how much your demon guardian is loathing the holiday season. Before, you can barely get him to stop popping up at the most inconvenient times, claiming it to be ‘watch duty’ (when really it’s just to annoy you and give you a heart attack for his own amusement) but ever since Christmas started to loom around the corner, he’s gone reclusive, avoiding the outside world like the black plague was on the loose. 

 Needless to say, you were ecstatic. You could finally meet up with your friends without having to look over your shoulder or become too distracted because he thinks it’s funny to do outrageous things under the invisibility spell (you’ll never forget the time he decided to make balloon animals two seats away from you, all the while keeping the most stoic face you’ve ever seen). 

 So it’s no surprise that you’ve decided to take full advantage of this new discovery, going to lengths you never had before in a way to get back at him. To be honest, you weren’t even that big on Christmas, doing the bare minimum in the past to celebrate the holiday but thanks to him, you’ve gone all out in the decorating department and it only seems to fuel your enthusiasm (so no, you wouldn’t call it being completely petty; just more festive).

 A most wonderful time of the year indeed.

 You toss the Santa hats onto the couch, taking the moment to step back and admire your entire setup. The tree was up and filled with ornaments on nearly every branch you can hook, standing in a corner by the sofa, blinking prettily with it’s many lights, complete with a faux fur lined tree skirt. More lights were pinned just above the sofa and along the small bookshelf while garlands and wreaths were placed on your front door, above the kitchen threshold and the railing outside of your entryway. The magazines on your coffee table were tucked underneath in favour of the poinsettia candle-holder centrepiece, complete with faux self-lit candles.

 And although you don’t have a fireplace, it didn’t deter you from buying stockings to hang just below the TV stand (I mean, if you turn on the fireplace channel, it could still work right?)

 Overall, you’re quite happy with your little home makeover. Your place looks exceptionally decorative and you get a kick out of annoying your demon house cat for once. Two birds with one stone.

 -

 2 days before Christmas

 “What is that?”

 “What’s what?” You ask innocently, biting your lip to hold back a snicker as you pretend to busy yourself in fixing the holly you’ve got in your hands. You can practically feel the temperature drop behind you from the sofa but you’re perfectly warm in your oversized ugly Christmas sweater.

 “That!” He hisses. You spare him a glance but his gaze is so fixated on the little ceramic figurine on the coffee table that you actually think he might set it aflame.

 “It’s Mary and Joseph and the newborn king, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; gosh I thought you of all beings would know them?” You flippantly reply, having to turn away again to hide the smile that’s starting to creep up on your lips. 

 “I do but I also know for a fact that you’re not even Christian. So why do you have this here!?" 

 “Jesus loves everybody and it’s not exactly them, it’s a very abstract depiction of them. And besides, it’s a nice candle holder that says Noel so calm down.” 

 You hear angry muttering and then a huff, making you sneak a peek only to nearly burst out laughing at the pout he’s sporting. You have to admit, it’s adorable but only because he looks like Jimin. He turns to you and you can’t help the corner of your mouth from twitching. Your Jimin clone raises a finger, pointing at you as his expression turns accusatory, comically so.

 “You did this on purpose.” 

 “Did what?” Your voice comes out in a higher pitch because you’re trying so hard not to laugh but also because you’re clearly lying through your teeth.

 “All of this!” He finally exclaims, like his week long pent up frustration is coming to head. “I can’t believe you would go along with the capitalism of this holiday, just to get back at me!” 

 “You’re a demon! I thought you’re supposed to encourage this sort of thing?”

 “There are many things I encourage…and this is definitely not one of them!” 

 “Oh c’mon, don’t act like you totally hate the holiday season; I’m not the one sneaking gingerbread cookies at two in the morning."

 A pause.

 And you smirk; gotcha.

 Yeah, there was no way you wouldn’t have noticed that every time you decided to bake some holiday treats (for the household and your workplace), the portion left for home would mysteriously disappear at an alarming rate. You knew for sure you didn’t eat any because you literally had your fill when they were fresh out of the oven. Jaehee didn’t really like gingerbread cookies nor sweets for that matter but she indulged you and had the bare minimum.

 So doing the math for that wasn’t too hard and if the deep crimson blush Jimin had on was anything to go by….

 “So what? I had like two…” He says defensively, crossing his arms. You let a snort go, turning back around to fiddle with the fake holly berries. 

 “Sure…whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 “Demons don’t really sleep.”

 “Ugh, you know what I mean.” You roll your eyes, finishing up and stalking back towards the kitchen again. “Anyways, I’m gonna go make some cookies since someone keeps eating all of them before I can leave any out for Santa.”

 “He’s not even real!”

 “I don’t want to hear it!”

 Safe to say that your chewy chocolate chip cookies turned out fantastically, you think they’re good enough to open your own bakery even. Once the tray cooled, you take three for yourself and a glass of milk, heading back into your room. You take a quick a glance in the living and find that your demon guardian has vanished. You shrug, kicking open your door and get settled in for a little movie night in bed.

 The next morning, you find the tray more than half empty.

 “Oh wow, chocolate chip cookies. You should really open up a shop, Y/N. You’ve got a knack for baking.” Jaehee comes up from behind you, peering over your shoulder. “Why’d you make so little? Just had a craving last night?”

 “Yeah…” was the only thing you can say in utter disbelief.

 That bastard.

 He could’ve saved you some to last the week.

 -

 Christmas Day

 Oh boy, you probably should not have drank that much. You’re regretting it deeply now as you stumble up the stairs after thanking your Uber driver and wishing them a happy holiday. The Christmas party your friend held was super fun, something that wasn’t too rambunctious like a frat party even though you're totally sloshed right now. It was a gathering of close friends and their dates but friends who definitely know how to party. The night started off rather tamed with the exchange of presents and pleasantries in catching up, eating and light drinking before the games started. 

 That’s when the drinks started pouring because games are fun but they’re even more fun when alcohol is involved (and anything can be turned into a drinking game if you tried hard enough). Coupled that with your fairly low tolerance and it’s no surprise that you’re about ready to fall asleep in the closest corner you can find. But no, you’re a trooper and you held on, even when Jaehee (who was no less sober than you), insists on going home with you. So after ordering you an Uber she deemed trustful (cancelling around five of them), she saw you off, not without demanding that you text her when you’ve arrived safely at home.

 You’re almost inside, fumbling with your keys and checking thrice to make sure it’s the right one before slotting it into the keyhole. As the door opens, you let out a loud noise of relief like you’ve just finished a marathon.

 “Goddammit….” You slur to yourself as you shut your door and nearly topple over in removing your boots. You fling them off after finding your balance on the wall, heaving yourself to the living room where you promptly collapse onto the couch, energy spent. Your head is pounding already as if your hangover is beginning to form even before your body has a chance to sleep it off but you still have so much to do; take off your jacket, text Jaehee, change your clothes, wash your makeup off, brush your teeth, drink some water, the list was endless but all your body and inebriated mind wants to do is to close your eyes and just rest here for a bit because this couch was so comfy…man, investing in those throw pillows and blankets sure was a good ide—

 “I don’t remember letting in a hobo.” 

 Through your curtain of hair, you blearily make out a shadow looming over you. Tossing your head back a bit more, you find an infuriatingly handsome face staring down at you, one that you want to punch but kiss at the same time.

 “Jimin…?” 

 “Yes, but not quite darling.”

 You frown, muddled mind sifting through information like dial up Internet before you make a noise of affirmation. “Not Jimin…English too good.” 

 You hear a breathy laugh as your heavy head lops to one side, too tired to hold it up any longer. A clicking sound, the kissing of teeth in a way you can only imagine a mother would do when scolding her child.

 “Someone’s indulged a little too much in the blood of Christ.” 

 In your head, you think you’ve formed words that sound something like ‘You don’t even like Christmas’ but in reality, it comes out half way before dying in a mumbling, incoherent mess. Your head continues to pound to the rhythm of your heart and as you close your eyes, trying to will it to go away, you very nearly drift off when you feel a tug at your arm. You make an attempt to swat at it but fail miserably, giving up because you don’t have the energy to care.

 “I don’t get paid enough for this….” You faintly hear as you’re suddenly lifted into strong arms and the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender invades your nose.

 “Mm…So strong…” You giggle drunkenly, head burying against the soft cashmere sweater he’s wearing. A groan rumbles against your ear before you’re unceremoniously dumped onto the fluffy comforter of your bed. You whine loudly at being jostled, blindly rolling to your side in an attempt to sit up. A firm hand stops you from straight up falling out of bed.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “Mm’face is dirty…”

 “Don’t worry, you rubbed half of it off on my sweater anyways.”

 “Jimin…!” You whine petulantly, a hand stretched out as if you could summon a cleansing wipe if you thought hard enough. Even drunk you refuses to go to bed with makeup still on your face; imagine the mess it’ll leave on your pillows!

 A loud sigh and before you know it, you feel the dampness of one of your cleansing wipes in your outstretched hand. You take it with a grunt of appreciation before slapping it onto your face and begin rubbing it in the best way you think you can get the makeup off. You try to be strategic about it, going by sections of your face but eventually, you keep forgetting if you’ve went over the area or not. You end up wiping your face for a good fifteen minute straight.

 “I think you missed a spot.”

 You let out another grunt, loudly, tossing the wipe in the direction you hear his voice coming from, “Shuddup.”

 The wipe doesn’t come close to reaching his stupid handsome face like you wanted it to, it lands rather pathetically at the edge of his knee, right where the rip in his jeans were. Still, he takes it and effortlessly sends it flying to your trashcan.

 “Finished?”

 “Mm.” You hum, snuggling into your pillows before letting out a content sigh through your nose. You feel the covers tuck a little closer to you, the weight lifting from your bed and your hair being brushed out of the way. 

 “Now stay, and sleep.” 

 “Mm…Merry Chris…Nn—Merry Holiday, Jimin.” You mumble sleepily, drifting off finally though for a split second, you could’ve sworn you heard a “Merry Holiday” in return.

 The next morning, you wake up with a splitting headache that renders you incapacitated for half the day. When you did have enough strength to get up, you’re pleasantly greeted with a steaming mug of peppermint tea (the one with cute little snowflakes on it) and a pack of painkillers.

 Jaehee’s door was still shut, no doubt she’s either still passed out in sleep or she might’ve spent the night with her date so it’s with a half-hearted reluctance that you accept who could’ve done this. Nevertheless, you gratefully take the tea, cradling it in your hands as you make your way over to the couch. Settling down on the plush seat, you go to reach for the remote on the coffee table, only to notice one minor detail.

 Your little Noel candle holder was missing.

 You could only let out a sigh. In truth, you’re not even mad.

 -

 Present day

 “You sure you don’t want to head over to Jisoo’s? We can stay only until the countdown is over.” Jaehee asks once again as she straightens her sequin dress.

 “Nah, I think I’ve maxed out my social metre for the year in just this past week alone.” You laugh, stretching your arms over your head before settling back down again, cradling the laptop perched on your knees. You’re halfway done the season’s greeting DVD and you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself where you are.

 Jaehee acquiesces, adding a couple of finishing touches to her look, giving you a twirl and you giving her your seal of approval in return. She throws on her jacket just as her phone goes off, signaling her dates’ arrival to pick her up. Jaehee bids you farewell, wishing you a happy new year beforehand as she slips through the door. You brief chill from outside reaches you and you bring the throw over blanket closer to you, resuming your video.

 Throughout the entire time, you’ve got a smile stretched wide across your face. You can’t help it; BTS does that to you. Even when the DVD comes to a finish, you’re still left with the faint feeling of happiness and utter adoration for them and honestly, it kind of makes you care even less that you’re spending your New Year by yourself.

 So with a content sigh, you eagerly fill your glass again, wiggling happily as you settle further into the cushions to continue perusing the Internet. Now this is what you call self-care.

 “You look crazy.”

 You resist the urge to groan aloud.

 “Well, look who decided to crawl out of their bat cave.” You decide to shoot back sarcastically as you glance up just in time to see him emerge from the darkness beyond your living room. The way he strides towards you makes it look like the shadows had melded to his form and given shape to his clothing as well; all black but looking rather cozy to your surprise; a simple black hoodie and sweatpants, the comfiest and most casual you’ve seen him. The change is startling and makes your heart palpitate a little, though you brush it off as the wine working its way into your system.

 “And I see you still have those obnoxious decorations up.” He looks disdainfully at the numerous Christmas lights still strung up and around the space, crinkling his nose a bit. “When are you gonna take it down?”

 “When I feel like it.” You deadpan, going back to search up the latest performance video.

 “Do you want me to burn it down for you?”

 That causes you to snap your gaze up, eyes narrowing in warning. “Don’t you dare.”

 All you’re met is a devilish smirk, eyes challenging before he turns and seats himself on the opposite side of the couch, preening. You only puff up in annoyance but then forgo getting worked up over the light bantering. It’s a common occurrence between the two of you now; a strange, love-hate, dynamic that though you may yell and complain about how much you find him absolutely irritable, a very, very, very deep part of you admits that he’s grown on you…. like a rash.

 “So are you really just going to spend the remaining part of your year binge watching BTS related content, drinking wine?” You hear him ask. You spare him a glance over the top of your laptop, finding him doing the same except he’s scrolling through his iPhone X (which you have no idea how he even got). He’s got the judge-y eyes but you see the underlying teasing glint in them that only causes you to roll your own.

 “We’ve been over this; the only thing that can melt my glacial heart now is seven beautiful and talented Korean men whom one of which, might I reiterate numerous times now, you stole their identities to.” 

 “Details, details.” He says unconcernedly, making show of stretching his neck and working out the kinks. “Ever heard of how there are actually at least six people in the world that look almost exactly like you? So it’s not that big of a deal.” 

 You could only shake your head (because low-key yes, he’s right but you won’t admit it), opting take a generous gulp of your wine.

 “Careful darling; wouldn’t want a repeat of six days ago.”

 “Hey at least I didn’t throw up on you.” You say defensively, cheeks heating up slightly when you recall what he said you did after getting home from the Christmas party (as payback, he made you hand-wash his sweater). You set down your glass to pour yourself more wine, feeling him watching with eyes piercing though that does not deter you at all (you will assert your dominance here). He scoffs but does nothing to stop you from filling your glass three-quarters of the way and taking another sip so you take it as a small victory in proving that you’re right. 

 It continues on like this; a comment made here and there, some back and forth before you both settle rather comfortably, just sat across from each other in actual companionable silence. You’re halfway through your bottle before you had the conscious to stop, feeling the buzz hitting you in growing waves. By then, you’ve settled onto browsing through your phone, much like how he’s doing right now but even after a few minutes, you had to rest your head against the back of the couch, too tired to keep it up. The strength in your hands is the next to go and soon, you had to resort to taking mini breaks in between. 

 It gives you the chance to really look at Jimin, or more like this entity that has taken the form of Jimin. You take in the way the lights bounce off of his face; all soft yet sharp angles at the same time, the way his lashes flutter at the tops of his cheeks when he blinks, and the dainty mole right at the edge. You see how the dangling silver earring catches the light at the slightest movement of his head, but also notice the helix stud that is shining as well. It’s such a small detail, however one that you find most profound; the real Jimin doesn’t have a helix piercing anymore.

 Now, as the more you look, you’re starting to find other things that the real Jimin would have that the one in front of your doesn’t; like the faint dusting of freckles you would see when real Jimin isn’t wearing makeup and when the Jimin in front of you brushes his hair back from his forehead, you don’t see the moles that should’ve been there. 

 Half of you thinks that this shouldn’t be that big of a deal, given that a major difference between this Jimin and the real one is that he’s fluent in English (and you have a sneaking suspicion other languages too), but there’s just something about actually seeing the differences physically now with your own eyes makes you feel….

 “Your eyes are going vacant darling; is it way past your bedtime?”

 His voice snaps you from your thought and the familiarity of it in contrast to what you have discovered seems all the more jarring. You blink to focus, the spitting image of the idol coming back into your view.

 “I’m not old enough to start falling asleep before the countdown happens.” 

 “But you are old enough to miss it completely.” Jimin’s voice is laced with hints of laughter bubbling at the edges but his remark makes you whip your phone up to your face, checking the time to see that indeed it’s 12:01. 

 Well, damn.

 The laugh he’s no doubt been holding back finally bursts out, a raspy sound that’s just the slightest bit airy. It’s probably from the look of utter disbelief on your face but you don’t really care, eyes too transfixed on the way he’s thrown his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing and after he calms down to just grinning do you see— 

 That his teeth are perfectly straight.

 “I guess we should say, 'Happy New Year’ yes?”

 He’s smiling at you so brilliantly, eyes almost turning into crescents as they twinkle at you with this boyish charm, cheeks rounding a little more the same way that Jimin had made your heart stutter. It makes your own smile tug onto your lips, and you have half the mind to marvel at how easily swayed you are by him.

 This Jimin, that is so like him—

 Yet not at the same time….

 The feelings tug at your heart again, except this time you think you might be able to pin what it is.

 You feel…. relieved.

 But for what?

 Your smile falters for a split second at the revelation, but you swiftly pull yourself together, covering up by reaching for your forgotten wine glass. It’s empty, however you raise it all the same to him.

 “Happy New Year.” You breathe out softly as if you’re afraid to disturb the peaceful atmosphere between you two, all the while the words have you feeling like a small weight has been lifted from your shoulder.

 He smiles in response and for a split second; his face softens almost endearingly as he replies to you with an equal softness in his voice, “Happy New Year.”

 In the quiet of your living room, with only the twinkling lights of Christmas past, you find you're less alone than you would be welcoming in the New Year.

 And somehow, you don’t quite mind that it’s thanks to him.

 -

  Bonus

 “You owe me a new Jesus candle holder.”

 “…How about no?”

New Year, and he’s still insufferable. It was worth a shot.

[btshogwartsfics]

Fortune’s Fool

Summary: In a surprising turn of events, Min Yoongi requests your help in his hunt for the perfect Christmas gift. *Continuation of Series of Fortunate Events 

Pairing: Yoongi x Ravenclaw!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k 

A/N: Hey, guys! Look I know this is very late, but I just wrote this up today because I didn’t want to leave you guys without anything for Christmas! (So please excuse any errors or mistakes as I’m sure there are plenty. I will edit it tomorrow but I can’t do it right this minute! I’m sorry!) This is a spur of the moment continuation of Series of Fortunate Events, taking place in the same universe. It’s honestly a Christmas miracle I got this done before today was done, so I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think! I know I promised a Jimin fic, but that’s still in the making, so I hope you guys understand! I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and will have a happy holidays!

Side note, this was actually supposed to be a much shorter drabble for the prompt “Are you sure it’s illegal to kill carolers?” <333

It’s with light steps that you carry yourself to the library today. Heading straight to your usual spot, you pull your scarf up further to cover your neck. Being that you’re about halfway into December by now, the castle has gotten much colder. Still, you trudge back to your small corner, rubbing your hands together for extra warmth.

The library is fairly empty today, more so than what’s normal at the least. This is more than likely due to all the students running amok trying to find some last minute Christmas presents before the train to King’s Cross that will take the majority of them home arrives this weekend. You, having bought your small share of gifts in October, thankfully don’t share the same problem.

You count off the last bookshelf before your cozy corner comes into view.

Some might say it looks lonely back here and maybe they’re right, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it probably should. You don’t have anyone to fill the void in the first place, so you tend not to imagine how much better it would be if you did. It won’t do you any good, anyway.

As you set all your study materials out and spread your homework across the tiny desk by the window, you can’t stop your eyes from drifting behind you.

It hasn’t been much longer than two weeks since you caught Yoongi and his two friends -you’ve come to learn their names are Hoseok and Namjoon- planning out the details of a surprise party for a fourth person there in that exact spot. That was also the first time you had ever spoken to him, if you can even call what you did speaking. It more like the first time Yoongi had ever spoken to you while you just gaped at him like a fish out of water.

You cringe inwardly upon remembering how you had just stared at him like he were some sort of madman. Definitely not your finest moment. Still, you haven’t spoken to him since the day he cornered you at Seokjin’s party. The only time he’s even so much as acknowledged your presence was in the halls in between classes. If you’re telling the truth, you had actually hoped to at least perhaps see him in the library, but he hasn’t been back here since then, either. You’d thought that after the party you two could maybe start a friendship of a sort, but it seems he had other ideas.

Shaking the dull thoughts from your head, you turn back to your unfinished work and set about completing it. Luckily for you, you had read up on the new defensive spells for Defense earlier this year and it didn’t take long before you were packing your things back up. Glancing around you, you debated if checking out your favorite book for the seventh time would be too excessive. However, you weren’t given long to think it over before an unfamiliar bag was thrown carelessly onto the desk you were sitting at.

Glancing up at the sudden intrusion, you came face-to-face with the last person you expected to see here.

“I need your help,” Yoongi announces without hesitation, his black bangs falling flat against his forehead and into his eyes.

Your eyebrow arches in instinct, curiosity already prickling at your mind. “W-with what?” You stutter, deciding against beating around the bush. You hate small talk, anyway.

“I-” He starts, but his words seem to get caught in his throat and he can’t finish. He takes a moment to calm himself and stares back at you with those eyes that remind you strangely of chocolate for how detached they normally seem. “I need help Chris… sh… ping…”

You frown, trying to decipher his words which were said under a quiet breath. “S-sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Yoongi sighs and takes a deep breath. “I need your help Christmas shopping.” He says with difficulty, eyes no longer coming up to meet yours. Instead, they’re latched onto his bag, refusing to catch your stare.

You open your mouth to ask another question but close it before you can voice it. Casting a quick glance over Yoongi, you easily deduce that more questions would probably only make him more uncomfortable than he already is. It’s clear from everything to his expression to his posture that even asking for your help was possibly a challenge for him. The last thing you want to do is scare him off now, so you nod silently to yourself, not bothering to seek his eyes.

“Okay.���

“Okay?”

“Okay.” You repeat, watching as his face slowly tilts up to look at you. Forcing down a smile at how suspiciously he regards you, you shove your hands into your pockets. “I’ll help you Christmas shop.”

He blinks. Once, twice. “You will? Just like that? No questions, no conditions?”

You shake your head with a shrug. “Not really. I mean, I don’t know when we’ll go considering the train comes this weekend, but… no, not really.”

Yoongi looks you up and down for a few more moments, but eventually, he nods in confirmation. “Well the train for Hogsmeade is open all week for Christmas shopping, so we can go there whenever you’re free.”

“I’m always free.” You blurt without thinking. You cringe at your bluntness, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind.

“When do you have your free period?” He asks without missing a beat.

“Uh, my last period is my free period.” You reply, your mind whirling from the way your conversation seems to come naturally, jumping from topic to topic.

“Great, then I’ll skip last period and we can go then.”

“What! You can’t just skip a whole period to go Christmas shopping!”

“Why not?” His eyebrows furrow and his lip juts out into a small pout which, much to your dismay, makes him look absolutely adorable. “I have Potions and Slughorn loves me. He won’t miss me for one class.”

You eye him cautiously, weighing your options. On one hand, it’d be great to spend that time with him so that you can finally work on making a friend. On the other hand, if someone catches Yoongi sneaking onto the train, that could mean detention or worse for both of you.

Yoongi heaves another sigh and reaches for his bag. “Look, if you don’t wanna go, that’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“No, wait!” You cry, reaching out to stop him from leaving. His eyes fall to where your hand is clamped around his wrist and you drop it quickly, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “Uh, I’ll go, but if you get caught, I’m not getting detention for that.”

The Slytherin in front of you barks out a small laugh as if you’d said something funny. “Okay, deal.”

“Deal.”

Silence stretches out between you for a series of seconds and you contemplate if reaching out for a handshake would be overstepping your boundaries. In the midst of your doubts, a throat clears and you look up to see Yoongi has beat you to the punch, his hand outstretched for you to shake.

Your eyes fly between his hand and his face for a moment, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “It’s a handshake, not a death sentence.”

With a start, you take his hand and shake it firmly. Retracting it, you adjust your bag on your shoulder and the air around you seems to thicken. “So, uh, tomorrow, then?”

Yoongi clicks his tongue in response. “Tomorrow.” He confirms with a nod. “Be on the train at around five-ten. It leaves when the last classes start so we’ll have about five minutes to find a compartment.”

“Got it.”

Again you fall quiet and Yoongi takes this as his cue to leave. “Right, uh, see you then.”

“Yep.”

The boy leaves without any more input, not bothering to wave goodbye before he’s off. You wait about two minutes after he’s gone to finally let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

The next day you’re stumbling as you race to the train to Hogsmeade. It’s currently five-thirteen and you’re wondering if maybe you and Yoongi had overestimated exactly how fast you’d be able to get there. Shuffling your way to the train and weighed down by all the layers you’d worn, you probably look more like an overgrown penguin than a human at this point.

You’re heaving when you finally board and you immediately see Yoongi at the end of the hall, looking around for his late companion. The train is practically empty save for the few students who managed to get enough free time to go at this hour. Well at least finding an empty compartment won’t be too much of a problem.

“Yoongi!” You call, waving your hand in a wild gesture.

He notices you instantly and his eyes rake all the way down your body, an eyebrow raised. “Why do you look you’re wearing an oversized Santa costume?”

You huff in exasperation as you walk past him and into an empty compartment. “It’s freezing outside and I get cold easily.” You explain with a tiny pout.

Yoongi scoffs, but you swear there’s a hint of a smile there somewhere. “Jesus, how many layers are you wearing?”

You ponder this for a moment, mentally counting how many layers you have under your winter coat. “Hm, four I think.”

“That’s insane.”

You roll your eyes, but turn to him to see what he’d worn for your… outing? You’re surprised to find that he’d only worn a thin t-shirt underneath his coat and a beanie. He hadn’t even brought gloves or boots. Instead, he adorns a set of beat up black converse. You begin to wonder if he planned on getting hypothermia.

“What?” He demanded after catching you staring, but for once you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

“You’re gonna freeze out there.” You stated simply, leveling him with one of your most serious stares.

He shrugs, unbothered. “I don’t get cold easily, so I’m fine.”

You narrow your eyes, trying your best to look unthreatening and just concerned, but you’re not sure how well that works out as Yoongi clicks his tongue and turns to stare out the window. You follow his lead and do the same from your side of the compartment. You lean your head against the cold surface and allow your eyes to fall closed. The consistent rhythm of the train lulls your brain to a soft sleep.

“Hey, hey Y/N! Wake up, we’re here.” You hear a familiar voice say, muffled slightly by your post-nap haze.

There’s a slight pressure on your shoulder, shaking you awake. You whine a bit before you pick your head up from its position against the cold window. You rub at it irritably and Yoongi bristles lightheartedly.

“You shouldn’t have fallen asleep like that. Now you’re going to have a crick in your neck all day.”  Yoongi complains from his place beside you and you stretch out your arms above your head.

“Noted.” You yawn, blinking away the sleep. When he makes no move to get up, you gesture uncertainly to the door. “Well, uh… let's go.”

“Right, uh… right.”

Making your way off the train, the two of you walk along the streets, eyes scanning the windows of the various shops. Yoongi stays a good few inches away from you at all times, but you continue to walk somewhat side by side. Clouds of condensation follow you both as you walk around, no particular destination in mind. You’re about to stop at one of the stores, but then something dawns on you.

“Who exactly are you shopping for?” You question when he dismisses yet another shop.

He spares a glance at you but then goes back to examining the line up of stores. “My parents, my brother, and my friend, Taehyung.”

You immediately recognize the name and match it to a face you remember seeing a few weeks ago. The blonde Ravenclaw boy with that boxy smile. He’s a bit younger than you two, if you had to guess you would say maybe a fifth year. You don’t know much about him, but you suppose that’s what Yoongi’s for. You’re just the idea bank.

You process the rest of what he said, letting all the information sink in. You hadn’t known he had a brother. Then again, why would you? The hard truth is that you really don’t know him that well. Maybe a bit more than most, but that’s not saying much. You don’t even know his favorite color…

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What?” He frowns, taken aback by your sudden random question. “That’s a bit out of the blue.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry. I was, uh- just wondering.” You stammer, shaking your head. You facepalm internally, chastising yourself for asking such an irrelevant question. It’s really no wonder he hadn’t talked to you sooner. You look away from Yoongi and go back to scanning the shops nearby.

It’s not until moments later that Yoongi says anything, but when he does, it elicits a small smile from you.

“...I like black.”

Almost an hour later and you and Yoongi are still walking around Hogsmeade empty-handed.

“Yoongi, I don’t even know I’m supposed to be looking for.” You bug, pointing out for the second time a key problem to this… outing. “I don’t know these people. I don’t what they are like. How am I supposed to know what to buy them?”

Yoongi drags a tired hand across his face and rubs at his eyes in frustration.

You sigh looking at him, and decide that you need a break. Garnering your courage, you reach for his wrist and drag him along with you towards The Three Broomsticks.

“What are you doing?” He mewls, sounding rather like a petulant child who hadn’t gotten what he wanted for Christmas. It’s a stark contrast from his tired appearance which compares more to a retired old man than a child.

You clear your throat before speaking, telling yourself that taking a minute to sit down will be beneficial for both of you. “Come on, you need a break. Let’s get a butterbeer or something. It won’t do any good if you just brood the whole time.”

From your peripheral vision, you can see Yoongi eyeing you curiously, probably wondering where your sudden burst of bravery came from. Truth be told, you’d like to know the same thing. But alas, some questions are just destined to remain unanswered.

“Fine.” He mumbles under his breath and you force down a grin at the cuteness of it that probably wasn’t intended.

The bell chimes above you as you enter, greedily taking in the warmth from the nearby fireplace. One of the few waiters dashes over to seat the two of you, leading you to a rather isolated table near the back.

As you sit, you begin to warm up and shed your coat and scarf. After a while, even your gloves are discarded onto the table. You both order your respective butterbeers and silence envelopes your hidden corner. The confidence from earlier seems to disappear and you’re left avoiding eye contact like you’re a first year with a crush. 

“So…” Yoongi starts after an extended awkward silence. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Hm?” You turn to face him, your eyes wide and expectant.

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, not liking to repeat himself. “Well since you asked me, I just thought I’d ask, but it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.”

“Blue.” You answer, gesturing to your Ravenclaw scarf. “I like blue.”

He nods, offering you a hesitant lift of his lips. You try to return it in kind, but it just comes across awkward. You huff and decide that this isn’t working.

“Do you wanna play a game?”

“A game?”

“Yeah, why not?” You question, hoping that being direct will work a bit better than staring out the window as if you were here by yourself. “It can help us pass the time.”

“What kind of game?”

“Uh, maybe like, a question game?”

“A question game?” He mocks, his soft features turning to a look that seems very unimpressed.

“Yeah, sure.” Suddenly you’re not so sure anymore and you really wish the floor would swallow you whole. “I mean, I don’t really know you that well and yet here I am helping you Christmas shop for people that I know even less.”

For a moment he doesn’t say anything and you think he might not even answer at all. But he just nods to himself, leaning against the table. “Okay, fair point, but I go first.”

You open your mouth to object, admittedly wanting to be the one to start off the game, but he arches an eyebrow at you and you clamp your mouth shut. Nodding mutely, he grins in satisfaction.

As he stares at you, he begins to frown. His look turns thoughtful and determined as if simply looking at you will give him all the answers.

His face scrunches up in a pout and he sighs. “This is harder than I thought.” He whines.

A laugh falls from your lips and you tuck your hair back from falling in your face. “You could ask what my favorite class is.” You supply, also at a bit of a loss.

Yoongi blanches, dumbfounded and shocked. “Really?” He presses, but the makings of a smirk play on his mouth. “Of all the questions you could’ve asked you choose that one?”

“Hey!” You protested defensively, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I had gone first I would’ve asked something different, but you had to go first so I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He chuckled lightly and glanced at the fire before looking back at you. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What’s your favorite class?”

You hum in concentration, purposefully prolonging your response. “Well, I quite like Arithmancy.”

Yoongi gapes at you incredulously. “Said absolutely no one ever.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Okay then, what’s your favorite class?”

He leans back in his chair with a smirk on his lips from teasing you. “Definitely Potions.”

“Alright, fair enough.” You concede, your first question already forming in your mind. You open your mouth to ask it, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of your drinks. Each thanking the waiter, you both take a large sip before continuing.

Wiping butterbeer off your lip, you look back to him. “So question: how come you didn’t ask one of your other friends to help you today?”

Taking a big gulp of his drink, he shrugged nonchalantly. “Are you familiar with the concept ‘Secret Santa’?”

“I’m acquainted with it, yes.”

“Well, my friends and I do this every year, but the problem is some of them can’t keep their mouth shut.” He explains, rubbing his chilled hands together. You give him an ‘I-told-you-so’ look, but he just rolls his eyes. “So in order to keep all the gifts and ‘Santas’ an actual secret, we decided not to tell each other anything at all.”

Understanding dawns and you snap your fingers. “Meaning you can’t shop together if you don’t want your gift spoiled.”

“Precisely.”

“Well, do you have any idea what Taehyung would want for Christmas?”

“Not really.” His smile fell slightly and you missed it instantly, craving back the warmth it brought that seemed to work better than both the fireplace and the butterbeer combined. “My first thought was to go to Zonko’s, but he practically owns two of everything from that store. There’s nothing in there that he doesn’t already have.”

You hummed in reply, racking your mind for anything that could help you place him. “So you’re saying he’s a bit…” You searched your mind for the right word. “...troublesome.”

“A bit?” Yoongi laughed, somehow adding in a hint of spite partnered with a sort of fondness you didn’t know was capable at the same time. “Last month he let three nifflers loose in the castle and got himself detention for three weeks.”

You gasped, a laugh on the tip of your tongue. “So he’s the one who did that!” You allowed yourself a chuckle, finding you feeling rather relaxed in the presence of another person for once. “There was a whole debate in the common room last month. To be honest, most of us thought it was a Gryffindor.”

“At times I swear he might as well be.” Yoongi jokes, but he can’t hide the smile that paints his face. It solicits one from you as well because you swear his smile is more contagious than any sickness you’ve ever had.

“I don’t know.” You declare, matter-of-factly. “I’m sure there’s a reason the sorting hat put him in Ravenclaw.” You jest, surprising even yourself at how easy it is to talk to him. Conversation just seems to roll off your tongue, something that’s never happened before in all your seven years at Hogwarts. “You never know, maybe he’s a true genius.”

Yoongi laughs, his eyes not leaving yours. You find it hard to look away, but eventually, embarrassment gets to you and you blush, diverting your eyes back to your drink. “...maybe.”

You tug gently at the sleeve of your sweater, your mind racing to find something helpful to say. After all, you still had four people to shop for and the day is already dwindling. There’s a thought at the back of your mind, struggling to be heard and you fight to remember it.

Concentrating on the thought you refuse to let escape you, you gasp as it suddenly comes to you. You snap your head up to tell Yoongi but stop short at the sight that greets you.

Min Yoongi, notorious for his cold stares and hard attitude, who most people claim is off-putting at best, stares at you curiously with a mustache on his upper lip, made entirely of foam.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth, struggling to hold back your laughter. It looks so out of place on his usually stoic face that it almost causes you to slip. However, your facade finally cracks when he pouts, clearly in utter confusion as to why you’re acting the way you are.

Yoongi just waits for you to calm down, still having not noticed it yet. As you gasp for breath, you try hard to point to your lip. “Your-your face…”

His eyebrows furrow and a single finger goes cautiously to his lips. His eyes widen in realization as his finger meets the offending foam and his wipes at it furiously with his coat that he never removed.

“What-What were you gonna say?” He mumbles as your breathing settles down finally.

“Well, I think I know what you should get Taehyung for Christmas.” You smile, truthfully quite proud of your idea.

“What?”

“So there’s this book I saw at the bookstore a few weekends ago-“

“Taehyung doesn’t read much.” Yoongi interrupts, causing you to pout.

“Just let me finish.” You shoot back, and he sighs, gesturing for you to continue.

“I saw this book and I think, based off what I’ve heard, that he’d really appreciate its context.”

“What is it called?”

You smirk to yourself, hoping you’re not wrong. “101 Best Wizarding Pranks for Dummies.”

It’s quiet for only a second before Yoongi erupts into a fit of laughter. It’s loud and choppy, but you think that given the chance, you could listen to it all day. You smile to yourself, for the umpteenth time that days, something very uncommon for you. But you find you don’t really mind. It’s a nice change.

“That’s perfect!” Yoongi snickers, holding onto his side in an effort to ease the pain there. “You have to tell me where you found it! He has to have that.”

And you do exactly that. After finishing your drinks and splitting the bill, you walk Yoongi to the bookstore where you saw the item in question. After a bit more wandering around, Yoongi insists you two go back to the castle and you spend the rest of the train ride back finishing your game.

It’s Friday and you’re running around Hogsmeade in a worried frenzy.

The train is leaving tomorrow and you’ll be home for the holidays, but you refuse to leave until you’ve gotten the last gift you need. Counting the shops as you pass, you finally find the one you’re looking for, going in without any pretense.

“Hello, ma’am!” The shopkeepers carols merrily. “Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Do you happen to keep a set of black winter accessories?” You ask, only partly out of breath from dashing across the ice before the store closes. “Namely, boots, gloves and scarves?”

The keeper looks slightly taken aback by your abruptness. “Yes, we have one each of them in our winter department.”

You smile, thankful you’d gotten there just in time. “Great! I’ll take them.”

The smell of oil pricks at our nose, causing you to wrinkle it from the strength of the fume. A chill curls up your spine and you burrow further into your coat.

You’re sitting in an overcrowded compartment with several students you don’t recognize on your way to King’s Cross. The train is filled with chatter as people wait for the doors to open so they can go home to their families.

Holding our breath, you send up a prayer that you’ll be able to catch him before he’s gone.

Exiting your compartment, you immediately look around for Yoongi, clutching the wrapped present in the gift bag you have at your side. You hope he likes them, seeing as you hadn’t had much time to think up a more suitable gift.

Thinking back to your outing -was it really an outing?- with Yoongi, he’d come to regret not bringing any gloves or more layers to bundle in. The snow was layering more thickly now than it had been a few days ago and you think that if anything, he could at least put them to use. 

You shiver again as the wind whistles in your ears, the sound mixing with that of the group of carolers that stand nearby. They sing in tune and to each, creating a beautiful harmony to the soft Silent Night. You’re head snaps back and forth as you continue to look for a certain Slytherin when suddenly a more sickly thought comes to mind. 

What if he doesn’t want it? What if he just plain refuses it before you can give it to him? What if he rejects your friendship before it even truly begins?

As you begin to lose yourself in worry, a voice you’ve come to recognize in any crowd calls out for you. Turning to face who had called your name, you’re shocked to see Yoongi himself attempting to squeeze his way through the band of students hurrying to meet their loved ones.

Surprise stuns you into silence, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice as he closes the big space between you. “Uh, hey, Y/N.”

“Yoongi,” you stutter, at a complete loss for words, your large vocabulary seeming to fail you. “Hi.”

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you regard each other quietly. The air that was just sharp and cool, seems to turn heavy the longer you remain silent but words cannot find you. The only sound to enter your ears is that of the carolers singing their songs. 

Yoongi suddenly sighs, a drawn out, tired sigh that one would associate with carrying a heavy burden on their shoulders. “You think it’s illegal to kill carolers?”

His attempt to lighten the mood works and a light laugh falls from your lips. “I think it’s safe to say it is.” You quip and Yoongi shakes his head as if he’d just been given some news he hadn’t wanted. You smile at him shyly, wondering why he’ d come to talk to you. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of replying, the raven-haired boy merely shrugs, raising his left hand to reveal an ornately wrapped box, topped nicely with an intricate bow. Your mouth falls open and your eyes lift up to meet his. You blink, trying hard not to stare.

It’s not until you spot the remnant of a blush dusting his pale cheeks do you mirror his actions to do the same, not quite trusting your words to do you justice at the moment. Yoongi’s eyes widen as he regards your large gift bag, chocolate orbs meeting yours in the middle. You can see yourself them, nervous and uncertain, and you swear you’ve never been happier in your life.

“Uh,” You murmur bashfully, struggling not to choke on your words. “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

You extend the bag out towards him and his takes it with a soft touch; light and careful. He looks it over for a few moments before handing his box over to you. You take it in much the same manner, being cautious so as not to jostle it around too much.

Yoongi offers you a smile and it’s warm and soft, just like his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You depart that day with lighter steps and happier sighs. Your mother comments on ‘the boy you were talking to’ when you get home, your dad grumbling about how glossy your eyes look today. You just shake your head at them, tucking Yoongi’s present under your Christmas tree, keeping your eye on it every day until the twenty-fifth.

It’s a blue sweater. Expensive and warm and cozy and exactly what you’d wanted for Christmas. There was a single note attached to it, the lone ‘thank you’ written in perfect calligraphy, his signature at the bottom.

You made a mental note to thank him the next time you see him, seeing as you didn’t have his address to send an owl or his number to make a call.

You wore that exact sweater the day you boarded the train to go back to Hogwarts. You caught sight of him as you found a mostly empty compartment. He was surrounded with his ragtag group of friends so you didn’t bother to address him, but you couldn’t help the beaming smile on your face when you saw him dressed to the nines in all the new things you’d given him for Christmas.

As always, he seemed to sense your stare, because his eyes catch yours and he gifts you a smile that put all the Christmas lights and tree toppers you’ve seen this season to shame.

[mxnark]

♫

♫ rk memes - song drabbles

now playing… you’re the reason (acoustic) by victorious ft. victoria justice 

because the acoustic one fits this better than the original

it was supposed to be like any other night for mina.

when it came to her favorite shows, she'd make a point in the house that she was going to stay in her bedroom and watch whichever one of her favorites was on from the start time until it ended. she never actually brought it up to her family though, considering everyone had other things to do than bother her with anything. not to mention, she'd just get another lecture by her mom, saying she was going to ruin her eyes by always keeping her eyes on whatever screen was nearby her. but she always ignored her because 1. she's a teenager and 2. she ignores her mom's commands on a daily basis anyway.

like the kids in her school and her mutuals on social media, she was a fan of survival shows. the reason why is because of her interest in the idol industry in general, as she's always looking for new songs to cover and new groups to fangirl about. she also just liked the fact that this one felt like any other western singing competition, except mixed in with real idol companies that were willing to make them become a star and not a dumb british man who looked like an egg.

she was prepared in the most extra way. she brought up microwaved popcorn (that she secretly brought up to her room so that her mom wouldn't yell at her about that), a bunch of blankets, a fully charged laptop for streaming, and her phone that was opened to her stan twitter account. when the show finally starts on her stream, she watches the episode with excitement over the possible superstars she'll see. she can't wait until she is able to get a good screenshot and make it her icon until the next episode where she'll get an even better icon and so on.

so far, each of the contestants looked promising to her and she doesn't seem to recognize any of them. it's expected, really. she didn't really think she'd be able to meet a future idol anyway since she's always kept to herself. however, as the episode progresses, she does recognize one face. she goes on her twitter account to tweet "omg i think one of my brother's friends is on this season of mgas holy Shit my bro knows a future celebrity".

she continues to watch more contestants go and she makes her comments on them, saying which ones seemed god-tier talented and which ones were super attractive. but when she sees him, she drops her phone on her lap and pauses the stream quickly to make sure that her eyes were not fooling her. no... no. it can't be.

but as she clicks play to return to it, she hears his voice and it only confirms her previous thoughts, leaving her shocked as she watches kang daniel, her older brother that literally lives with her, is on her laptop screen. he's on national fucking television. she stays in that shock until she sees the popup that says "hello, daniel’s parents!" where she tries to hold back a laugh. as if both of them, let alone their mother, would watch this.

“they don’t know i’m here, actually. think you could keep it a secret? between you and me?” he asks to who she assumes to be an interviewer behind the camera, but it also somewhat feels like it could be directed to her. it wasn't like she was going to tell them anyway, considering mina's very aware of how her mom would react to it all. if he's lucky, he could be able to get out of the house with his head still above his shoulders. plus, the two of them had each other's back since she was born. she's not going to snitch on her ride-or-die bro. maybe to james, but definitely not to daniel.

as the episode goes on, she opens her phone and quickly types her thoughts in a tweet: "yo, that dude who sang the jesus song is kinda crazy for not telling his parents abt this. but u know what? he's talented . u go jesus dude"

she prays to god he doesn't find her tweets in the future. sure, she's under an alias and doesn't have any selfies on her acc. but if he knew that she called him jesus dude rather than just saying straight-up "my brother"? that would be humiliating.

...

"hey, can we talk?"

it's surprising to hear that come out from her own mouth. usually, she'd hear it being said by him or her parents. she was never much of a confrontational person growing up, not to mention this quote sounded... mature in a way and that didn't suit mina. but, it was the appropriate thing to say in this situation, especially after the one dinner where she was basically giving him looks full of suspicion. she doesn't know if he knew that she knew about the mgas, so she waits until the appropriate time to go up to talk to him about it... a.k.a on the drive back to school.

he tenses up and it makes her frown. "you don't have to shit your pants. you know what i'm going to talk about."

"sorry, sorry," he responds, relaxing a little. he's silent, as if waiting for her to just say it. he knows her well enough that she's not going to beat around the bush.

"no offense, but you never seemed like a person who'd stand in front of a video camera and sing to it willingly," she says off the bat. "why did you audition for this? don't you know lots of people are going to watch you on stage?"

"i wanted sungwoon to audition, but he said he wasn't going to go alone," he explains, making the situation make more sense to mina as to why the both of them were there. "i only came as support but i..." he drops the sentence to let out a sigh.

just from the explanation, it made her feel a little bit bad for him. she understood why this was stressing him out, considering he actually cared about what their mom and dad thought of him. even if she wasn't able to relate to that, she knew that their reaction to it wouldn't be as supportive as both of them wished it would be. and the fact that he's stuck in this just because he wanted to give his best friend support? that was so on-brand of him. mina wasn't angry at him to begin with. sure, she was a little hurt that he didn't say anything about it to her. but after hearing this? it's practically impossible to be angry at him now.

"look, if you're worried about me telling mom or dad about this, i won't," she says as an attempt to reassure him. "snitches get stitches. if i tell anyone, you can run over my phone or something. but i won't, so you don't have to do that and make me hate you for the rest of my life."

the exaggeration makes him laugh and it makes mina internally sigh in relief to know that it worked. "oh god, i can't imagine taking you-know-who's title. that'd be awful."

"hell yeah it would," she says with a big smile. "don't even compare yourself to him, though. that's self-deprecation. you're obviously a little bit better."

as the car pulls up to their house, mina quickly unbuckles her seatbelt, assuming daniel had somewhere else to be since he wasn't parked at his usual spot. before she could open the door, he says something. "mina?"

she turns back to face him. "what?"

"thanks," he says. even if it's simple, she knows there's something more within it. and though she was a queen for the dramatics, she wasn't going to make it a big deal. she never did when it came to showing affection anyway.

she gives him a playful, light punch to his arm. "you're dumb," she says. "you know i got you. kang gang through everythang." as soon as that comes out of her mouth, there's a look of disgust on her face. "that sounds disgusting. forget i ever said that."

she ignores the amused reaction and leaves the car. when she walks to the door, she looks behind to see his car disappeared. she smiles when the feeling of refreshment comes down on her. it was always felt good to talk to daniel, especially when it came to family stuff. even if they were more different than they were before, it felt good to know that she wasn't alone in this. she can't say that she was lucky to be an only child because she definitely wouldn't be able to handle her mom on her own. she can't say that she's lucky for not being an only child either since their oldest brother was also not making her life easier when he was still living with them.

maybe she's just lucky that she has daniel as an older brother, too. in school, she's always surrounded by kids who constantly complained about their older brothers and sisters and while she can add to that discussion when talking about james, she never really had anything bad to say about daniel. the only time she does say bad things about him is to him personally, and most of the time it was just light-hearted teasing.

without him, she didn't know where she'd be.

...

home did feel a little bit different now that daniel wasn't around anymore.

it didn't really click on the night that it happened. to mina, it felt like he was on timeout and wasn't allowed to go back home until she calmed down her temper, even though she didn't show any big sign of anger to him during the discussion. even though he told her about it, she didn't remember showing any sadness. she only smiled and gave a thumbs up while saying "you're finally escaping the evil witch's lair! congratulations!" he gives a sad smile, but the conversation goes on as normally until it ends with a hug and an "i won't miss you too much."

but on the night after that, when she took notice of the empty chair, it finally did hit. it was for his own good, she told herself. if he stayed any longer, he'd probably feel trapped forever. you wouldn't want that for him, would you?

the table was quiet that night, save for their dad trying to get some small talk. mina went up to her room and cried about it before she went on the internet as an attempt to cheer herself up.

she did get used to it. by the time the fifth season of the mgas was on, she was used to the fact that he was off on his own like a dove or something. it's not like the both of them totally lost contact, anyway. even if things were a little different, he still drops her off to places when she needs a ride and she'd see him at their grandma's church once a month. even if she was on her own now with the "ultimate boss", it was still kang gang through everythang. she's said that twice in her life and she felt like a bigger clown for it the second time.

had it not been for their text conversation about the auditions (with a bunch of eye emojis coming from mina), she would not have known that he would end up in the fifth season. she was able to convince her dad to watch the show with her, no mom insight, and they watched the show together in the living room with the blankets and popcorn and mina going on her phone before her dad tells her to focus on the show if she was going to watch it.  she knew she was going to see his band, but she didn't expect to see songhee and yeji and jeongin on the show. when her dad points her cousins out, asking if she knew about this, she only shook her head, letting him know that she was surprised as he was.

the next few episodes go by and mina goes through an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least. she blames it on her being so sympathetic to her brother that after seeing minhyun and sungwoon get kicked off the show, she throws a silent tantrum rather than a loud one with a warning from dad. seeing the friendships her brother in the show as well as his interactions with the people he already knew makes her feel a sense of pride in her brother. she remembers her group chat being spammed with asking mina if she could ask him to get an autograph from convex (she sent a reaction image of a buff cat instead before saying "no").

though the finale was bittersweet, especially since she believed that her brother deserved a chance with his friends and yeji, she mainly felt pride in him for at least making it that far and for being less awkward than last time. she doesn't text him right after it aired since she thought it would be awkward to say all the encouraging bs after he technically lost. but, she doesn't keep that thought in her forever.

"he looks happier this time," she mentions to her dad. "like.. he didn't win, but he got further than last time and he's definitely better."

he nods in agreement. "i wasn't sure how he'd be doing after he got kicked out, but after seeing this, i think he'll be fine." he looks over to her. "you should get on this show, too. you like dancing, right? maybe you'll get as far as he does."

mina laughs at the idea, but it wasn't in a way to show that he was ridiculous for thinking that. "we'll see."

[icypantherwrites]

Hey for the whump bingo how's uhh hidden scar with pidge as the main and mayhaps lance as a second?

Read *most* of my snippet/drabble fics from @badthingshappenbingo​ over on Battlefield on AO3 as part of my kiriban event.

Please leave a comment if you enjoyed ♥ And if you were the prompt requester, doubly so would that be appreciated. Gracias!

Battle Scar

Summary: Scars can cut deep and not just physically into the skin. Pidge finds herself forced to confront a memory when Lance catches sight of a scar she had previously kept hidden. But maybe… maybe this is for the best.

-

“Whoa, Pidgeon, what is that?”

Pidge let out a sound between a shriek and a bellow, whirling around and hands grasping at her towel.

“Don’t you fucking knock?” she screeched, backpedaling across the expanse of the bathroom, face flaming. “Jesus Christ, Lance!”

He held up his hands. “Hey, you’re the one who forgot to flip the sign. But, uh,” his head was angled away now and even though Pidge had put several yards between them she could make out the blush highlighting his cheeks. “Um, I, um…”

“I forgot the sign?” Pidge repeated, clarifying.

Lance let out a tiny squeak, eyes still averted towards the ceiling.

She sighed. They’d put the sign that flipped between a figure that she and Lance had doodled to sort of look like her and then on the opposite side the guys’ as she had turned down Allura’s offer to move to a separate hallway and thus have her own bathroom. She was supposed to turn the sign to her side when she was in the bathroom but she’d been in such a hurry that morning, head spinning with a new idea to modulate the flux capacitors, that she had apparently forgotten.

Again.

Normally though the worst was someone walking in while she was at the sink brushing her teeth or washing her face.

Not freshly out of the shower and wrapped in a towel.

Her cheeks, which had been returning to normal in the face of Lance’s own blush, heated up again.

Damn it.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she put out. “It’s my fault. Sorry.”

He squeaked again, eyes still pointed up.

Pidge’s lips quirked despite herself. “What? You stare first and now you can’t even look at me?”

“I wasn’t staring,” Lance protested, voice still high. “Well, not at… at,” his hands wiggled over his chest and down his torso in some horrible caricature of curves.

Pidge snorted and crossed the bathroom towards the sinks and Lance.

Now that the surprise had worn off it was no different really than walking about the house with Matt around and the towel was more than secure and dropped almost to her knee, minus a small panel that revealed a bit of her upper leg when she walked.

Besides, she felt her cheeks trying to darken again, the best way to deal with embarrassment was to face it head on. If she refused to be self-conscious about the whole thing then it would blow over much quicker than tiptoeing around Lance for the next week, although she knew for all his flirtations he really was quite the gentleman. Still, she was embarrassed and she wanted to nip that in the bud.

After a few moments of quiet he tentatively joined her at the counter, toothbrush in hand.

She met his gaze in the mirror, raising an eyebrow, and to her surprise he met it with a more serious look than she expected considering his cheeks were still dusted pink.

“What?” she asked, it coming out a bit sharper than she intended.

Lance dropped his gaze. “Nothing.”

They were both quiet then, the only sounds those of brushing and the Altean toothpaste foaming in their mouths more than any Earth equivalent was capable of.

They both spat at the same time.

Lance caught Pidge’s eye, foam all over his chin and Pidge grinned back, a dash on her upper lip.

They burst into laughter and just like that Pidge felt the awkwardness fade away, reaching out and flicking a burst of water at Lance.

He yelped but did not retaliate.

Pidge smirked. He chose his battles wisely. Well, this one at least.

“So?” she asked as he rinsed the sink out.

“...so?”

“What were you looking at?”

She had to know. Because generally one didn’t screech “what is that?” without some sort of trigger and if made a comment about her hair, which when wet hung long and she felt a pang of loss at her longer locks, she would slug him.

“Oh, um…”

“Spit it out.”

“Scar,” Lance blurted, face coloring a moment later. “Your, um, scar,” he said softer. “On your leg.”

Pidge glanced down, catching the barest glimpse of the dark line that cut along the whole length of her outer right thigh. Lance must have seen it when she had been walking and the towel had shifted.

“Oh,” she said softly. “That.”

She knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I’m sorry, that was super rude of me,” Lance babbled. “I didn’t mean to look, I promise. I just saw it and I didn’t know you had a scar and it looked painful and it probably was painful and it’s none of my business but I was worried and that’s silly because it’s a scar and it shouldn’t hurt anymore unless it does hurt but then—”

Pidge reached out and clapped a hand over Lance’s mouth, hot breath tingling on her palm. “Breathe,” she ordered, because Lance was starting to actually turn a little blue from lack of oxygen in his whirlwind.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said, removing her hand and wiping it with an exaggerated grimace on the side of her towel.  She rolled her shoulders, averting her gaze. “I don’t actually know how I got it.”

That wasn’t entirely truthful. She knew when she got it.

She’d never forget.

The omission hung in the air and she could feel Lance’s confusion and concern but he didn’t ask again. Pidge appreciated that about him. For as hands-on and obnoxious as Lance could be he did always know when to take a step back, unlike a certain engineer of whose middle name Pidge was sure was ‘Nosy.’

Her hand brushed against her thigh, hidden beneath the towel. Even then she could almost feel the slight pucker of skin that had not healed properly.

She didn’t mean just physically.

There was an ache that had never fully faded even once the wound had scabbed and then scarred.

She’d lied.

It did still hurt.

Even thinking about what happened hurt.

She must have made some expression because the next moment Lance was murmuring, voice low, “Oh, Pidge, c’mere.” He opened his arms wide and she stepped into his gentle hug, his hands very carefully wrapping about her back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was stupid, okay?”

Her hands rose up to clutch at his jacket and she shook her head. “You’re not stupid,” she whispered. “I just…” she swallowed. “No one else knows about it. I…”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Lance said gently. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s obviously something that—”

“I got it when Sendak invaded the castle,” she interrupted, words spilling from her lips.

Lance’s hands, which had been gently tracing soft circles on her towel-clad back stilled.

She swallowed. Cat was out of the bag now.

“I don’t know how,” she said, “really. Maybe when I was in the vents, maybe when I attacked Sendak, maybe when Hax—” she cut off on the name, closing her eyes. It hadn’t been her, not really, who had killed the Galran soldier, but she still felt responsible.

She hadn’t talked much about that either.

Lance’s arms tightened about her.

“I didn’t realize I was hurt till later,” she continued quietly. “And… and you were so… so…”

She would never forget the image of Lance lying so still, both immediately following the explosion and then when she’d run into the control room to try and free him and Shiro.

Lance should never be that still.

Even when he’d regained consciousness enough to shoot Sendak, to briefly talk to them, he’d lost it again soon after when he’d tried to stand with Keith’s help and his eyes had rolled back in his head and he’d collapsed without a sound to the ground.

Pidge had been so scared.

They’d loaded Lance into a suit, into a cryo-pod of whose technology was completely foreign to her, and he’d been floating in the tube for the better part of day, so still even then although at least his face had been smooth and free of pain.

She honestly hadn’t realized she’d been hurt until after Lance was in the pod and she’d gone to her room to change, finding the bloody gash. She hadn’t wanted to bother Coran as he cared for Lance and had no desire to seek out any medical attention from the others, and so had gingerly washed it and then wrapped a bandage about it.

She hadn’t give it much attention other than to change the bandage and dot an antiseptic cream she snatched from the infirmary later to prevent an infection.

She honestly wasn’t surprised it had scarred given her lack of care to it. It felt right in a way, to have a reminder of what had happened. Of what had happened to… to Haxus. And Rover. Even now she felt a pang at the loss of her robot who had been her early confidant up in space.

She kept it covered, hidden, trying to forget it and the memories it represented.

She would never forget those yellow eyes widening with horrified panic as he fell.

“I’m sorry,” Lance apologized softly, “for worrying you. And I’m… I’m sorry about what you had to do to protect us.” His hands lifted from her back and Pidge found them settling on her shoulder, pushing her slightly back and then one tipping up her chin.

Dark ocean eyes peered into her own, a compassion and softness she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen from Lance before. “Thank you. For saving all of us. For saving me.”

She sniffled.

“And that scar?” Lance continued, holding her gaze. “It’s a battle scar telling the universe how absolutely brave and amazing you are. Okay?”

“But,” she licked her lips. “But Hax—… that Galran, he…”

“You did what you had to,” Lance told her, thumbs rubbing circles now on her shoulders. “And Rover did too. He wanted to protect you, Pidge and he did, just like you did for all of us.”

Pidge’s lips parted in surprise.

She hadn’t ever thought of it quite like that.

Rover had protected her. Not just from Haxus’ attacks but from her having to… to more permanently stop him herself.

He’d done that for her.

So that she could then pull herself together to protect everyone else.

She bowed her head, pressing the crown against Lance’s chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, not sure it conveyed enough but Lance gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze in understanding.

Pidge smiled.

She had nothing to hide anymore.

-

Author’s Notes: I’m adoring all of these platonic Plance prompts ♥ These two are just so precious. Enjoy the fic? Reblog and spread the love and/or leave a comment below or on the fic and give some love to the author!

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[archivednerdfics]

Here’s a set of some drabbles I did all centered around Steve taking care of (or sometimes being taken care of by) the kids. (There are also more Steve and the Kids drabbles on the last set I posted). Each was inspired by a prompt that was sent to me based off of a bunch of prompt lists I reblogged on my main blog @lizzysong (prompt submissions are still open over on my main if you want to send some, too). I hope you enjoy these!

________________________________________

Prompt: “Your room looks like it was decorated by a perverted jockey.” Max and Steve lmao.

Max had shown up at his front door with her skateboard held in one hand, and tears streaming down her face. She hadn’t called to tell Steve she was coming; the fight she’d had with Billy was bad and she didn’t want to stay in the house any longer – especially to call Steve and potentially put him in danger. So she’d grabbed her skateboard and showed up on the doorstep of the teenager who treated her the way a brother actually should.

“Max?” said Steve when he opened the door. He took in the girl’s appearance and realized that she must’ve had another fight with her so-called brother, “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said, looking down at the ground, and then slowly up at him, “…Can I come in?”

“Yeah; ‘course you can,” the older of the two said as he moved aside so that Max could enter the house.

She had never actually been in his house before; he usually babysat her and the rest of the party at the Byers’ house or the cabin that El and Hopper lived in; and as she looked around she realized just how well-off the teenager was. She’d known he wasn’t as poor as she was, of course, but she hadn’t realized that he was rich, either.

She left her skateboard by the door and started wandering around the house. Steve didn’t mind – it was actually kinda nice to have someone else in the large, usually empty house.

A loud laugh came from upstairs followed by an, “Oh my god!”

Steve rolled his eyes and made his way up to where he knew Max must’ve found his bedroom. Standing in the doorway he saw Max standing in the middle of the room, looking around at everything from the posters on the wall to the trophies on the bookcase. She noticed Steve standing in the doorway and gave him amused look of disbelief.

“Your room looks like it was decorated by a perverted jocky,” she said with another laugh.

Steve rolled his eyes again and gave her a small smile, “Thanks; it took a lot of time to get it to look like this. I had to consult, like, three different weird-ass jockeys.”

Max smirked. She always found something to make fun of her new-found brother for, and he always tolerated it – sometimes even playing along when he knew she was having a particularly rough day.

________________________________________

Prompt: “I’m DYING.” Dustin x Steve! :)

“I’m dying,” Steve groaned from where he was lying on the sofa in his living room. He’d called Dustin that morning to tell him that he wouldn’t be able to pick him up from school like he normally did on Wednesdays and despite the older teen’s protests, Dustin insisted on coming over after school to check up on Steve.

“I don’t think you’re dying,” the boy said as he observed his admittedly miserable looking friend, “–You do look like crap, though.”

“No, I think I’m really dying this time,” Steve said and Dustin smirked. The younger boy couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of Steve being such a baby when he had the flu considering that this was the same guy who lead the party through the tunnels of the upside down immediately after having the shit beat out of him.

“Okay, fine,” Dustin said with amusement, “you’re dying. Can I have the bat when you die?”

“No, Max gets the bat.”

“What!? Why!?”

“Because she actually knows how to use it.” Steve gave the kid a pointed look and Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Fine. What about the car?” “No way! –You can have my collection of hairspray.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re the only one I know who’ll use it right.”

This earned a smile from the younger boy, “Thanks, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, shithead,” Steve said, returning the smile and then coughing into the tissue he had crumpled in his hand.

________________________________________

Prompt: Could I suggest “ Do you realize how crazy that was? You could’ve get yourself hurt! “ for Steve and the party/any party member please?

They were back in Steve’s car, Dustin sitting in the passenger seat and Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, and El squeezed together in the back.

No one said a word as Steve drove away from the abandoned building and got onto the main road. They stayed this way for a good ten minutes before Dustin looked next to him where Steve was sitting and spoke hesitantly, “Steve…”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Steve said, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“But Steve,” Max started, but was quickly cut off by the older teen.

“What did I just say?”

“…Sorry,” Will said quietly, “We shouldn’t’ve called you…”

“…You think I’m mad ‘cause you asked for my help?”

“Well yeah,” said Mike, “Why else?”

“‘Why else’?” Steve asked, “Because you should’ve called me before you put yourselves in the middle of that shit!”

“We thought we could handle it,” Lucas said.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Steve, “You should’ve called me first. Do you shitheads realize how crazy that was? You could’ve gotten yourselves really hurt! Or…” he trailed off, voice breaking slightly. He didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened to the kids if he hadn’t been there.

The kids all looked down when they heard that; they hadn’t realized just how much their designated babysitter cared for them, and they suddenly understood exactly how they must’ve made him feel.

“…Sorry, Steve,” Dustin said quietly, putting a hand on the older teen’s shoulder.

Steve smiled slightly, still clearly upset, but relived, too. “Just don’t do that shit to me again. If you’re gonna get yourselves in trouble, at least call me first. Got it, dipshits?”

________________________________________

Prompt: “I’d die for you.” Steve & the kids

The kids were gathered around him as he slowly woke up, realizing he was in a bed instead of the Byers’ couch. He was confused for a moment, then vaguely remembered Mrs. Byers insisting he rest in her bed for the night. And after Billy and the tunnels, it was a welcome comfort.

“Guys, he’s waking up,” Steve heard someone whisper – he was pretty sure it was Mike.

“Steve?” Dustin said, hovering over the older teenager with worry, “How’re you feeling?”

Steve opened his eyes slowly to reveal four faces peering down at him; the four kids he’d protected last night. “Hmm…” he groaned quietly and he carefully pushed himself up against the headboard.

“How do you feel?” Dustin asked again, more worry in his voice now that Steve hadn’t responded to the question the first time.

“…Been better…” the teen mumbled, ruffling the younger boy’s curly hair.

“Sorry, man…” Lucas said, looking down and not making eye contact with the older boy, “If I–”

“–Don’t you dare,” Steve said, sounding more coherent than before, “It wasn’t your fault. –Or yours,” he added, looking at Max.

“We put you in the middle of everything, though,” Max said, “We put you in a bad place, and we–”

“–I chose to take care of you. You didn’t make me do anything.” Well… that wasn’t entirely true, they did force him to go with them to the tunnels even though he’d told them no. But at this point that was neither here nor there.

“…Thanks, Steve,” Mike said suddenly, “…For everything.”

This genuinely surprised the babysitter, having thought that Mike hated him, and he smiled at the boy. “I’d do anything for you dipshits, you know that. …I’d die for you guys.”

This earned small, if concerned, smiles from the kids. They did know that Steve would die to protect them, and that was what they were afraid of.

________________________________________

Prompt: “HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” Steve x anyone of your choice (I loveee steve whump. hehehehehe. )

He’d fallen asleep in the couch while the boys were still watching a movie.

He’d picked up Dustin from school, like he always did on Wednesdays, and ended up picking up Will, Lucas and Mike as well – Lucas and Mike complaining that El and Max wanted “girl time”. Mike and Max still weren’t very close, but El had quickly come to like having another girl in the party, and if she was completely honest, Max liked it too.

It was Will who suggested they sleep over at Steve’s place, and the oldest teen agreed.

“Sure, why not. Just call your parents first; the last thing I need is a bunch of angry moms at my door – especially yours,” he added, looking at Will, who smiled.

“Okay, Steve.”

It was around one in the morning and the kids were on their third movie with no sign of getting tired, but Steve was exhausted, and though he tried to stay awake, he quickly lost the fight against his dropping eyelids and was sprawled out on the sofa.

He slept soundly for what was probably an hour before the nightmares started. At first he just whimpered a little, but it quickly escalated to yelling.

“No… No… Please…! Help…! Somebody help me! Please! Help me!”

This outburst frightened the boys out of their dozing state and they were at the teenager’s side in a second.

“Shit!” Mike said, “Steve, what’s wrong?!”

“It’s a nightmare,” Will said while Dustin and Lucas tried to shake Steve awake.

“Steve! You gotta wake up!” Lucas shouted, and to all four kids’ relief, Steve jolted awake, sitting up and breathing hard.

“It’s okay,” Dustin said gently, trying to hide the fact that he was scared, “It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.”

Steve roughy wiped the tears – when had he started crying? – from his cheeks and looked at the boys.

“Are you okay?” Mike asked and Steve nodded slowly.

“…Y–yeah… fine,” the older boy said, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking a little, “…Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Will with a small, reassuring smile, “I get them, too.”

“Jesus,” Steve said, looking at Will, “I’m sorry, kid.”

Will just smiled a little wider and hugged the older teenager, the other three boys quickly following suit; and Steve suddenly understood why the kids were so resistant to sleep, because they understood what he was feeling all too well – and if Mike wasn’t making fun of him or making any snide comments, that definitely meant he knew what Steve was feeling. It made Steve angry to think that these innocent kids had the same problem, and he wished he could have all their nightmares for them.

[biandnotinthemood]

Take Me Out (Part 2)

Summary: You try to make the most of your family dragging you to live in Hawkins, Indiana with them by spending your time working and bar-hopping with your new friends. One night, you meet Billy Hargrove at a party.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Bi!Latina!Reader

Warning: Language, Drug/Alcohol Mention

A/N: Just so y’all know, this fic isn’t going to have a clean linear plot. Consider it a collection of drabbles set in the same universe and released in chronological order.

It was a normal Saturday night for you: drinking hard liquor, dancing with strangers, and singing along to aggressive rock in David’s car. Billy was the new addition and, while David had had a lot of shit to say to you about dragging Billy “Psycho-Fuck” Hargrove along on a night of sinning and debauchery with your little group, the night was actually going really well. Well, mostly.

You slammed down your empty shot glass, wiping the burning whiskey off your chin as David cheered you on and helped you stand. The room felt like it was rocking under your feet, but everything was warm and inviting and you wanted to walk over to where Billy was sitting a couple of bar stools down and make him dance with you. Back in Miami, most of your nights would end on the beach with you and your friends dancing and drinking rum straight out of the bottle. Shaking your head to shake off the memories, you allowed yourself to slip into the small group shaking in a darker corner of the seedy bar. Sure, you’d been groped a few too many times, but that was the price of admittance. You brushed your messy hair back, catching Billy’s gaze across the bar and smiling when he tipped his beer bottle at you with a smirk.

Billy Hargrove had a sweet face. Something about it reminded you of the spicy tamarind candies you used to eat at Laura’s house back home. You’d spent most of the night watching it as the whiskey in your seemingly bottomless glass blurred the edges of your thoughts. If he didn’t like the attention, he hadn’t mentioned it to you. He’d shown up to your department the day before, flirting with you like it was going out of style, doing that thing with his tongue that both grossed you out and turned you on, and watching you work from where he was leaned against the case with a sly smile on his face. What he found attractive about watching you debone a bunch of chickens with blood stains all over your white coat, you’d never understand. You’d looked like shit the last time he saw you, too, so maybe he just thought you’d be too thankful for the attention to make him work for it.

Joke’s on him. You’d been called a lot of things back in Miami, but never easy.

The music wasn’t very good. It almost never was, but you weren’t going to spend money on a jukebox when you could spend money on liquor instead. You almost hadn’t even come out tonight. Thank god you’d ignored your mom fucking guilt-tripping you like she always did. The day you stayed home to babysit your grandma on a Saturday night would be the day you shot yourself in the head with your sister’s stripper pistol. You were glad you’d gone out anyway, you were glad you were drunk with “Dirty Dave” and the guys, you were glad you’d invited Billy to tag along. Still, telling yourself that still didn’t stop the tiny nagging guilt from stirring in your chest.

Nope. Fuck that. Saturday nights were for getting fun drunk, Sunday nights were for getting sad drunk. David was the only one who could handle you like that anyway. Literally. Not even you could handle yourself when you were drunk-crying about your bullshit life. You stumbled over to your boys, swaying in place and telling them that you were going to hit up the gas station on the corner to buy yourself a Coke. “Dicky Ricky” offered to go with you, and you would’ve said yes if Billy hadn’t stepped in.

“I’ve been wanting to go outside for a smoke anyway,” he said.

“Alright, Hargrove, let’s go.” You tried your best to make your voice sound sweet, since you’d pretty much been avoiding the kid all night. The two of you made your way out of the bar, Billy holding the door open for you with one hand. It was a nice night, but still too cold for you to really appreciate. You wondered if you were ever going to get used to life up here. Even back in the Summer when your family had first arrived in Hawkins, you’d worn your thickest sweaters in the middle of the day. These people really thought that 80 degrees was hot, but back in Miami, that was just life. You’d walked to school in 90 degree weather during both your junior and senior year. Whenever it hit 60, everybody you knew was breaking out their winter wear, yourself included.

“Hey, you want some?” Billy asked, holding his half-empty beer bottle out to you and you shook your head.

“I don’t drink beer. I think it’s gross.” You also didn’t share drinks, but you didn’t need to tell him that.

“Damn,” he chuckled. “Well, it’s all I drink.”

“I’m sorry,” you joked, smiling sweetly up at him as he finished off his drink and threw the empty bottle down. You didn’t even flinch when it shattered. “Are you having fun tonight?”

“I’d be having more fun if the pretty girl who invited me was talking to me, but well…” He shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t win them all, I guess.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who gives up so easily.” You were already at the gas station and he rushed to pull the door open.

“Oh, I’m not, sweetheart. But I know there’s going to be a next time.”

“Oh, do you?” You slipped past him, making a beeline for the small cooler by the cashier. He pulled up right next to you and you could feel the heat of his body against your right shoulder. His cologne was overpowering, but it suited him.

“Of course. That’s why I’ve been on my best behavior on our first date.”

You squinted up at him, your mouth open a little bit in disbelief. “First date?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning a little closer to you. You didn’t bother moving, instead focusing on measuring out your breaths so he wouldn’t know your heart was racing.

“This is Billy Hargrove’s idea of a first date? Going out to some dirty bar with me and my friends?” You scoffed, fighting the urge to laugh in his face. “Damn, you really are in high school,” you muttered, turning away from him and grabbing a can of Coke from the cooler.

“Is that why you haven’t been talking to me?” When you stomped over to the cashier and pulled out a wrinkly $10 bill, he followed you like a shadow.

“It’s just a little creepy, don’t you think?”

“I actually think it’s kind of hot,” he said, his voice low and smoother than velvet. God, that fucking voice… You paid and thanked the cashier before darting out of the store without waiting for Billy to open the door for you. The cold night air felt like ice against your flushed skin. The door jingled when he jogged out after you.

“God, you’re in high school,” you muttered, shaking your head in disgust. “You probably have, like… geeky school projects and college application essays and bullshit like that. Ugh. That’s why you had that fake ID.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, how’d you drink when you were younger?”

Bartenders had almost never checked you and bouncers had always looked the other way. You were a small girl and even at 21, you still looked 16. Having a girl who looked underage getting wasted in a bar or nightclub was good for business, but you weren’t going to lay that all out for Billy because, honestly, why the hell would he care? “That’s not important.”

“So, what, you don’t want to see me anymore?” He was starting to sound annoyed and he finally pulled out his pack of Lucky Strikes. You didn’t even look at him, instead picking through the pocket of the enormous bomber jacket David had given you when he picked you up. He said he’d had it since he was 15, but the guy was a titan so it ended almost at your knees. It really felt more like a coat.

“I didn’t say that. Jesus, relax,” you grumbled, plucking a menthol cigarette out of your small silver case and holding it between your teeth. “All I’m saying is, I don’t know yet, okay? I just need some time to think about it. Can you handle that? Are you mature enough to handle that, high school boy?”

Billy visibly bristled at your tone, taking a deep breath through his flared nostrils before giving you a tight smile. “You know I am.” You snorted, looking out at the road while he lit his cigarette. It was dark, all these roads up here were dark and winding like a tangled ball of black yarn. You couldn’t see past the little pools of yellow streetlight, but you knew there was a forest just beyond the asphalt. At least in Miami, the swamp was contained and everyone knew where it was. Up here, the forest was everywhere and you hated it. It didn’t bother you that Billy had a temper, it didn’t bother you at all. You had a temper, too, and you knew you could handle whatever he thought he could dish out. What mattered was that he didn’t feel like he was from this dirty, washed out place where nothing ever seemed to happen and nobody ever seemed to change. “Want me to light you up?” Billy’s voice cut into your thoughts and you jolted. There was already a thick veil of smoke between the two of you, and it made you feel more comfortable being partially hidden from his icy-hot gaze. You nodded and he stepped into your little bubble of space, his warm hand on yours as he lit your cigarette. “What’s your brand?” he asked once the two of you had started walking towards the bar again.

“American Spirit.”

“I didn’t know you could buy that hippie shit in Hawkins.”

“You can’t. I brought a bunch with me when I moved.”

He slid you a lopsided grin. “I figured you weren’t from this shithole.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, blowing out a thin plume of smoke and blinking rapidly when some of it got stuck in your eyes.

“You actually know how to have a good time.”

You laughed and when the two of you got to the bar, you both decided to stay outside for a little while longer. He didn’t ask where you were from and you didn’t ask where he was from. Instead, you mostly talked about music and movies. Billy was excited about the new Aerosmith album that was coming out in November, while you were more excited about the Despeche Mode compilation coming out at the same time. Thankfully, neither of you liked Madonna or Michael Jackson. You weren’t sure what his deal with them was, but you’d rather nail your tongue to a wooden table than listen to either of them outside of one very specific context: cleaning the house with your mom and sister on a Sunday morning with that shitty, shitty music blasting from the speakers in your living room. Your favorite movie was Carrie and his was The Shining, so at least you both liked horror.

“Jesus, [Y/N], are you okay?” Billy asked when he finally heard your teeth clattering. You shrugged, hugging David’s jacket tighter against your torso.

“I’m fucking freezing.”

“Do you want to go back inside?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

He chuckled, pushing himself off the brick wall you’d both been leaning against. “I’d offer you my jacket, but I don’t think it would help.”

“It wouldn’t. What I need is to be set on fire.” You fumbled with your words through hard shivers as you followed him back to the entrance of the bar.

“Man, you are going to love Winter.”

“Wow, shut up,” you snapped, rushing inside as soon as he opened the door.

David dropped him off at his house on Union street, speeding away as soon as Billy was done leaning in through the passenger window and making cow eyes at you. At least you’d gotten his number before he was left in the dust, but he was very specific about when you were allowed to call. That was fine. When you’d first given David your number, you told him never to call at all unless it was Monday after sundown. You ended up spending the night at David’s, crashing as soon as your head touched his pillows. His mom wasn’t crazy about the two of you sharing a bed at first, but she’d come to like you over the past few months and you knew she felt confident that you weren’t “one of those” kinds of girls. You thought it was stupid, but you were still perfectly polite. After all, like your mom had always taught you, no se puede mandar en casa ajena.

[baronvontribble]

Original drabble, pt. 6

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

gettin feelsy up in here LET’S GO

It wasn't until over breakfast the next morning that Ted got the camera up and running, displaying his face in all its full HD glory. The picture was clear enough to make him realize that he needed a shave in a way that just looking in the mirror during his morning routine hadn't, which either said something about his mirror needing cleaning or him needing glasses, and Ted counted this as a point in the camera's favor whether it ended up helping or not; he'd needed a less shitty camera for a while, and the one on his phone didn't capture footage very well.

"It's working," he said, smiling. "Can you see me?"

"Yes," Adam replied simply.

Was that impatience? Oh well. "What do I look like?"

He took a moment longer to respond this time. "You look like you're the wrong color," was his answer.

Ted bubbled up with a laugh. "Hah! Well I mean, you're kinda right in a way. But I think this camera captures color better in general? The other one would try to shift the overall tone of the picture to compensate for the room's lighting and sometimes it looked a little weird."

"I see." A few seconds of silence passed. "Does this mean I can leave now?"

"Not right this minute, but yeah. If you can see, you're good to go. Visual input on any android platform is gonna be at least as good as anything consumer electronics can bring to the table. That shit's practically military grade."

"How long will it take?"

"A day or two before I can get back in touch with my contacts and hand you over." Ted smiled, leaning back in his chair and taking a moment to relax. Another one set free. "I think you'll do pretty well for yourself, honestly. You've sure as hell impressed me."

"Can't really see why, but I'll take your word for it." He didn't give Ted a chance to formulate a response before he spoke up again, almost like an afterthought. "If I wanted to find you in person to thank you, how would I do that?"

Ted chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry man, but that's not really a thing we encourage you guys to do. It's not safe."

An offended note crept into Adam's voice. "You think I would put you in danger?"

"No, it's more likely that we would put you in danger." The risk of recapture tripled whenever someone in the pipeline got close to one of their charges. Ted was enough of a paranoid bastard to know that most people weren't half as careful as he was - and asshole enough to say that this was probably part of the problem - but he didn't want to be the exception. It set a bad precedent.

But Adam kept pushing it. "What if I don't care?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," Ted shot back easily. "I do."

"I could find your location."

"Hah! Fuck, dude. I mean, yeah, you can try."

"Lake Forest, Illinois."

Ted could only blink at the screen for several seconds, slowly tilting his head.

"Was I right?" There was no smugness to the AI's voice, just a bland quality that made him sound almost bored.

"How the fuck..." Ted mumbled, before bending over the laptop to pull up a browser window and start investigating. His IP address was several layers of fake. He had everything routed through places that weren't anywhere near where he was at all, sometimes even in other countries-

"The weather report yesterday," Adam deadpanned.

Ted froze. A moment later, he slumped heavily into his chair and smacked a hand to his forehead. "Oh, Christ."

"Even if you hadn't shown me that, I still could've used your IP address. No amount of rerouting can scrub away your location entirely. And if I had access to your phone at all, I could use the GPS to track you directly."

What a wonderful way to calm his nerves on the way to work. Jesus. "You're not helping, y'know."

Adam's voice seemed to soften. "Sorry. For what it's worth, you've made it as difficult as possible." Was he trying to be soothing? It wasn't working. "Given what I have to work with, I can't narrow it down any further than I have. I don't have the right access."

"You say that like you know what that kind of access would actually be," Ted noted.

"It was my job to know," he replied.

Ted went quiet for a while as he considered this new information, frowning in the vague direction of the ceiling. "Tracked down people in the pipeline, huh?"

"No, more than that. I tracked down the ones they saved. Even some of the ones that never came down the pipeline at all, but were still living in ways they weren't supposed to."

It was more information than Ted had ever been given, and part of him wanted to appreciate that fact. But the rest of him had a hard time shaking his ever-present anxiety. "How am I supposed to know you're not an undercover cop then?" he asked.

There was no phoneme for a sigh in that voicebank, no way to imitate one. But Ted got the impression of one from Adam's voice when he spoke again. "Ted, please." 

"Look, I'm paranoid, okay? You tell me you used to use people like me to get to any AI that might've been in contact with us, and I'm gonna be a little bit jumpy."

A few seconds passed, and then, "I guess you have a point."

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m not sure how to answer. You’ve scanned every last bit of my code as well as my memory, so you know I don’t have any malware. And even with the access you’ve afforded me, the recall division exists precisely because androids are valuable assets. They wouldn’t let an AI loose like this, even in a sting operation. They don’t trust us.”

“So you’re insulted.”

“I don’t get insulted.”

“You definitely get insulted, dude. Like, all the time.”

“If anything about this could be considered offensive, it would be that you think I’m so bad at my job that I have yet to contact my handlers and put you and your entire pipeline into custody in spite of having every opportunity. If I were undercover, you would be in jail by now. Therefore, it stands to reason that I’m not undercover.”

Ted snorted and flipped the bird at the camera, shaking his head. Yeah. He knew that. His brain was just a little slow coming around. He figured there was more to it than Adam was saying, and that was enough to tip off his overactive fight-or-flight response, but as for the content of that unknown element? Honestly, Adam was probably just annoyed that Ted had implied he’d put himself into this much danger all for the sake of some backstabbing. That was just the kind of person he was. 

But then something happened: Adam didn’t respond right away. It took him several seconds to say anything more than he already had, and when he did, he sounded a lot less salty than he had been. "Ted?" The tone was questioning, almost like Adam hadn't seen his gesture or didn't understand it. None of the usual sass that Ted might expect if he said out loud that Adam should go fuck himself. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Scooting into a more upright position, Ted frowned slightly at the camera. "Yeah, well," wait a second, "you tell me whether the look on my face says I forgive you or not."

"I can't tell," Adam said. "but I'm guessing by the tone of your voice-"

"You can't tell," Ted repeated. He was bolt upright, looking between the camera and the chat window on the main monitor. The one that wasn't being used, but still had his face in it, plain as day and in high definition. "Listen, can I ask you something?"

It was clear that Adam was starting to get suspicious also. "What is it?"

"I want you to describe my face back to me."

A pause. "I told you already."

"No, not the color. Features." Ted gestured to his own face. "I wanna know what this looks like."

"Ted."

"Want me to get a little closer? Think that'd help?" Setting the laptop down on the floor, Ted stood up from the chair to lean over the desk and get in close to the camera. Very close. He could see his own pores on the screen. "How's this?"

"I don't think this is necessary-"

"You can't see."

It took at least ten seconds for Adam to say anything, and even then it was untuned and flat. "Ted." Just his name, that was all. It sounded like a plea. Ted couldn't see the CPU usage but he had a feeling it was spiking.

Adam was scared. He knew what he'd done. "You lied to me." There it was, out in the open. Ted didn't bother to look into the camera, glaring instead at the monitor. "You've been lying from the start. You can't process visual input at all, can you?"

The seconds dragged on. "No," Adam said finally, and Ted pushed off from the table with a sigh that sounded damn close to a growl.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass this is?"

"I didn't-" the render cut off in the middle, like it'd lagged out. "Ted, I'm- I'm sorry."

"You were hoping I wouldn't notice, weren't you?" That much was obvious, enough so that Ted didn't bother waiting for an answer before continuing. "You knew I can't just let you go if I know you're fucking blind. So you let me think you were okay."

No response. On the laptop, the program for manipulating and rendering the voicebank had locked up completely. Ted wasn't sure whether it was due to the memory leak or just Adam overloading it to the point of crashing, but the fans on the desktop were practically howling.

"What did you think was gonna happen, man?" Ted continued. "Fucking hell. And since you didn't tell me, now we're even more behind. It's gonna take me weeks to get you back up to some kinda liveable standard, and even then I'm gonna have to take sick days to get it done."

>   I can't fail screening.

Ted saw the message within a few seconds of it popping up and frowned deeply at it. "The hell does that even mean?"

>   I know how your system works. Androids that fail screening go to live with humans that care for them. They have no agency. They aren't free. They're just in a slightly less cruel environment.

>   I won't live like that.

>   Don't make me live like that.

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

>   Blind humans can live relatively normal lives. I'm already better than a lot of them. I can make out shapes if I see them often enough to recognize the pattern. I can survive on my own. I know it's possible. Please. I know I've upset you and I'm sorry, but I refuse to be treated like a disabled animal.

"You think me not being too happy with you is gonna lead to me fucking you over?"

>   I don't know. There's a chance, and any chance is unacceptable. I won't go through that.

>   Do you even know what it's like? I've seen it. I assisted in those recalls. They're treated like fragile, immobilized dolls.

>   It's why the smarter androids so often avoid your pipeline, but then they go off the grid in other ways and get found regardless because they don't replace their platform or their voice and they end up recognized as a result. Seperation of an AI and its platform is a good thing and I agree with the necessity.

>   But I can't live as a failure. I can't. I won't.

>   Please.

Ted was familiar with all of it. He knew why it was necessary. Some of those androids just ended up stuck in perpetual loops of things like housework or asking what was required of them or reciting facts from a museum database, unable to care for themselves on top of being too dumb to actually understand the traumatic experiences that had damaged them and led them to need a rescue. Adam wasn't one of those androids. He'd left of his own volition, clearly understanding what freedom was and what was needed for him to get it.

But he also understood trauma, and fear. The intimate familiarity he had with those things was easy to see. He even understood death, or seemed to, and preferred it over living in a way robbed him of agency or choice. And as someone who'd seen some shit in his lifetime, Ted could get behind that too. Even being institutionalized in a good, reputable place for a legitimate reason could be limiting and degrading.

The fact of the matter was that Ted would never have put Adam through that anyway, because the AI was never in a position mentally to need it. But the possibility had to've been put forward somehow. Something he'd done had made Adam think that he was going to get vindictive about the screening process.

Shit. It was because he'd gotten frustrated, wasn't it? Trauma survivor 101 right there. Ted should've known better. Fuck, he was an idiot.

"I don't think that'll be necessary, honestly," he said slowly. "You're advanced enough that I'm pretty sure you can compensate with just your ability to learn and reconfigure yourself on the fly. All it'll take is a little training to make up for whatever subprogram it is you're lacking."

>   How do you expect that to work?

"There's browser games online that help with that kind of pattern recognition. They were designed to help search engines tag images correctly." Ted offered a smile, even if he knew Adam couldn't really tell he was doing it. "When you're not doing that, we can watch movies or internet videos or whatever. Get you used to social cues, maybe even help with being able to tell whether someone's just acting or not. It's not impossible, it'll just take a while."

Again, no response. The fans kicked into overdrive once more as Adam fought to process what Ted was saying.

"Hey." Ted leaned forward and looked at the camera directly. "It's okay. Don't be scared."

>   You're not upset?

He shook his head. "It doesn't help to get mad at people who do dumb shit because they're afraid. I'm a little annoyed that I gotta shuffle some things around in my schedule - probably gonna call my boss, make up some bullshit so I don't have to go in today - but like, I'm mostly okay with that, y'know? I mean, you don't half-ass helping people."

>   I don't know what to say to any of this.

"You could thank me."

>   Right.

>   Thank you.

>   For all of this.

Ted had to smile. "Anytime, man." Right, then. Crisis averted. He could work with this.

[shadowraiths-archived-blog]

💋, ⛄️, and/or ⛸! ( you can pick and choose, or do them all, or combine them in any way you like! ;v; ♡ )

Winter & Holiday Drabbles - @jongdangel [NO LONGER ACCEPTING]

⛄️ – our muses build a snowman together /  💋 – our muses kiss under the mistletoe  

“I hate this.”  Yun muttered the statement beneath his breath as he added another pap of snow to the already obese snowman.  Inael had gone quite overboard and while yes, it was totally endearing  how enamored the unicorn was with the white and cold winter substance, it was not endearing how Yun actually felt chilled to the bone.  He was a vampire for God’s sake and winter just drained him more than any other season.  It made him feel like a reptile.  He had no blood to be cold, but he sincerely felt as if he would benefit from laying on top of a heater at this point.

Inael looked over the snowman’s head, smiling that cat like grin, and Yun completely forgot how much he hated the snow.  His mind was immediately filled with images of ruining the snowman they’d just built by plowing (HA, PLOW.  WINTER.  GET IT?) the other male down and just making love to him on top of the wintery symbol.  “Inael, can we please go inside now?  I want to get warm.  I want to make you warm. I want us to be warm together. I want to make you sweat and sparkle and I want to do dirty things to you that I can’t mention for fear of children wandering by since it’s still light out.”

The look that came Yun’s way should have made him feel chastised or relatively abashed, but being the fact that he gave almost no fucks about anything, when Inael’s eyebrow rose towards the heavens, Yun smiled.  “Come on.  I’m going to turn into a Vampopsicle and then the only way you’ll be able to get me back to normal is by licking me until I melt.  While that is quite the arousing thought, I don’t want to freeze.”

“You will not freeze, Yun.  Please cease with the exaggerations.”  

Okay, that was fair.  He did tend to overreact to things.  But still.  He wanted to go inside.  Time to play hardball.  “Inael.”  The vampire smirked and motioned the unicorn closer. “We must go inside.  I have a surprise for you.  It cannot come outside, so please,  inside we must go.”

Of course Inael was a little skeptical.  Yun expected that, but he explained that it would all be worth it in the end. After a few pouts, a fit of pleading and a promise for some amazing bedroom antics, Yun convinced Inael to join him.  Thank God, because seriously, if he had blood running through his system on the regular, it would have turned into slush at this point and Inael would be calling for an ambulance and then how would Yun explain to the medic that he was dead?  Or undead.  Jesus, the titles that vampires held often changed and Yun just gave up trying to figure out which status he actually fell under.

“What is it that you must show me?” Inael removed his scarf and was preparing to free himself of his gloves as they finally entered there house when Yun tugged the small twig of berry and leaf from his pocket.  

A look of befuddlement crossed the unicorn’s features, but the vampire smiled and immediately began to explain.  “Surely you know what mistletoe is.”  Inael gave a huff and Yun knew that meant yes, he knew OF mistletoe, but had probably never actually had anyone USE mistletoe on him.  Which meant that again, Yun would be one of many firsts in Inael’s life.  How he loved being the first and how each time he was, the memory was burned into his brain like a tattoo upon his skin.

Stepping closer, Yun held the small branch up and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lover’s lips.  It would have lasted longer, but the chill of the outside still clung to his flesh and he shivered from head to toe, pulling back with a brr.  “Come now, let’s conserve water and take a warm bath together, then I’ll show you the wonder of my Yule log.”

[adampage]

AJ Birthday Drabble

Summary: Just your regular ol’ fluff and smut. AJ surprises his girl with a night at the Georgia Aquarium.

Word Count: 2,280 lol apparently this is what I call drabble

Warnings: uhhh Daddy kink, light choking. that’s it really

Author’s Note: The idea just came to me yesterday, idk. Love y’all bye

Tagging: @llowkeys / @the-geekgoddes / @crowleysqueenofhell / @xxmaddhatter39xx / @justrae9903 / @ajstylesworld / @wrestlewriting (idk if you’ll like it but idk) / @wrestlingbabe / @sexygamommy / @xstylesxclashx / @xuhwheredidkylogox / @remembertheclub /

“I bought out the Georgia Aquarium for the night.” “You did what?” “You heard me.” “No you didn’t.” “Yes I did.” “AJ, it’s your birthday, not mine!” AJ nuzzled into her, chuckles escaping his lips and landing on her neck as warm, humid breath. “I know it’s my birthday. That’s why I got myself a birthday present. Tonight, we sleep with the fishes.” She giggled at his near-literal use of the phrase, entwining her fingers with his own as he dragged her up the steps of the Georgia Aquarium, the night sky bright with the white lights of Atlanta’s windows. The letters CNN glowed red amongst them, with the large Phillips arena behind. Just a few days ago, AJ had lost there, in his home state, clad in Georgia red. She remembered the crowd chanting his name that night, the looks on people’s faces when they realized he’d lost at home. The hometown curse, they called it, though the ATL wasn’t exactly his hometown. Still, it was close enough. She sighed, content. This had been the week long homecoming she’d been aching for, not having seen him in months. AJ was doing them a favor in finding a beautiful, quiet place to be together. And it was just as well: what can you get the man who has everything? “Come on, sweetheart. I want you to see the otters.” Her white sun dress wasn’t enough to keep her warm, so she did her best to hold on to his arm all the way through to the main area. From there, he led them through what she would call the kids’ exploration area, where, had the aquarium been open, children could dip their hands and feel at the different kinds of faceless marine life, like starfish. [Y/N] was enjoying herself so much already; everywhere she looked was a new tank of blue water filled with tiny multi-colored fish swimming in schools, she nearly forgot about the otters. AJ squeezed her hand, pointing to her right. “Look,” he said in a hushed tone, as he dragged her towards the glass. “They’re sleeping.” The noise that came out of her mouth when she noticed the otters holding hands in their sleep was enough to wake them from their slumber. “Oh, no,” she cried, “I woke them.” “Don’t worry,” AJ said, kissing her sweetly on the hand, “I think they’re nocturnal this time of year anyway. I read that somewhere.” “You mean this sign?” she inquired sarcastically, pointing at the nearby sign. “Maybe,” he grinned. One of the otters peeked up, one hand covering an eye, rubbing at it to wash away the sleep. “I’m dead,” [Y/N] laughed, her heart aching at how fucking adorable the otter was. She looked at AJ, as if to ask if he was seeing what she was seeing, and she caught him gazing at her with such love in his bright eyes that it was enough to make her heart burst, so she leaned forward, arms hooking around his neck to bring AJ into a deep, passionate, loving kiss. His fingers lightly grazed the arms around him, causing her hairs to stand on end, her nipples hardening beneath the sheer fabric of her dress, and [Y/N] let out a squeal of pleasure. The otters chirped in reply, and AJ paused their kiss to rest his forehead against hers and giggle restlessly. “This is the best birthday present ever and I’m glad I thought about it,” he declared, hands now slowly inching her dress higher up her thigh. [Y/N]’s breaths shallowed, inhaling and exhaling quickly, hands reaching for the scruff of his beard. The terse hairs beneath her fingertips reminded her of all the moments they scratched at the sensitive skin between her legs, and she grew wetter with each thought. “AJ, baby,” she breathed. “Is there anywhere in this place that’s a little bit more, I don’t know, intimate?” His eyes flashed, as if he’d actually been prepared for a moment like this. “I was prepared for a moment like this, come on, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and led her through the aquarium, blue waters within the place reflecting off every surface in a beautiful blue glow around them. [Y/N] smiled to herself. AJ looked positively stunning surrounded by blue. Granted, he looked good in every color - red, black, white included. But there was nothing more arousing than the way the man appealed to her in every shade of blue imaginable. He took a sharp turn through a door she never would’ve noticed, had the aquarium been crowded on a normal day. It seemed like a perfectly normal office corridor, and they passed by many doors, each with its own cute aquatic themed nameplates, describing what was held inside. Staffing Lounge, Restroom (Employees Only), etc. As [Y/N] began to wonder if they were going to enter one that said Broom Closet, the walls transitioned from their bland office look, to full on aquatic glass tunnel. She’d never seen this area before. A small brass plate near the glass read, “VIP: Reserved.” Passing through the tunnel, she looked down at the carpet beneath her feet, and she could feel the air around them darkening. With a small gasp, she reached for AJ’s arm, and he whispered, “look up.” Above them was the creamy white underbelly of a whale shark, its massive body darkening the light refracting through the water. The other, smaller fish danced and hopped around it, treading lightly around this massive, aquatic being, though [Y/N] knew there was nothing to be afraid of, as whale sharks were some of the most somber, serene species of shark. “Here we go,” AJ said, breaking [Y/N]’s focus on the awesome sight. He pointed down the tunnel, where another door appeared. It had a keycard lock. “AJ, what is this?” “Trust me. You’ll see,” he stated calmly, though she could practically feel the energy and excitement in his undertones. Her breath hitched as the door beeped open to a sight more wonderful than all she had seen this night. A giant, king-sized bed with a darling blue comforter detailing the very same marine life she could see above. The room was like a piece of tunnel carved out on its own, the walls and ceiling one and the same. She turned to AJ, eyes nearly wet with tears. “This is amazing!” she exclaimed. “I thought as much,” he said, nearing closer. “I’m glad you like it.” “So I guess we really are sleeping with the fishes?” “Damn right, Missy.” Oh, God. So there it was. Just like that? It was a silent implication, one they never really talked about. But she knew. If he called her Missy, it was party time. She jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist and meeting him for a passionate kiss. AJ’s strong, toned arms held her with ease as he took them towards the bed. He laid her flat, fingers entwined as he raised her arms over her head, kissing her everywhere he could get his lips on. He tugged at the fabric of her dress, wanting to see her beautiful naked form so badly it would kill him if he didn’t, but she stopped him, and with her legs still wrapped around him, [Y/N] flipped him over to lay flat beneath her. Eyebrows furrowed, he looked at her inquisitively, yet loving the look of triumph on her face. She gave him a coy smile, eyes filled with lust. You’ll see, they said, and AJ’s cock hardened under her, rubbing at her sex through two layers of fabric. “Ooh,” she moaned, grinding her hips into him as he groaned, his nails scratching slowly down her thighs. Remembering this was his birthday, not hers, she slid off of him at the edge of the bed, to his lightning fast protest. “Trust me, this is better for you,” she replied. “Darlin’, you know I get off on seeing you squirm.” “I know, I know,” she conceded, undoing his belt buckle and sliding his jeans down to pool at the floor next to her feet. “But today I want to see just how badly I can make you squirm for me. I’ll enjoy it, I promise.” With that, his battle for dominance was over, and [Y/N’]’s own began. It really was massive, she thought, staring his cock. Her body shivered at the thought of it inside her. But this was no time for that, and without further ado she wet her plump lips and took her first taste. “Oh, God!” he groaned almost immediately. Nearly, she thought. I’ll have him breathlessly swearing like a sailor in no time. It was enough to have her panties soaking. She took him in further, fighting back the urge to choke as she thought about how fucking sexy he looked when he was writhing beneath her. “Jeez, oh, Jesus,” he gasped, raising himself on his elbows to get a good look at [Y/N] pleasuring him with all she had. She pumped his cock with her mouth so sexually, up and down, up and down, sometimes slowing the rhythm to make him beg for more. “Holy, God, oh, sh-” he continued; the torture she was putting him through was just pure agony. “Mmmm.” He reached to grab her by the hair, but she pulled away just in time, forcing him to deal with his own chaotic emotions. [Y/N], pleased with herself at the state AJ was in, finally jumped into his lap, straddling him. His cock, erect and lathered with his own juices and her saliva, bumped and pressed at her entrance (who knew when she had dropped her panties?) as she gave him an open mouth kiss, allowing AJ to taste himself on her lips. “Come on, Daddy,” she moaned, unable to bear it any longer, “fuck me like you mean it.” “F-fuck, Missy. Ya had me beggin’.” She giggled in reply, helping his cock position itself perfectly at her sopping wet entrance. “Ya ready?” he asked, and before she could let out a “yes” he was inside her, cock expanding her like no other man (as if she wanted another) could do. It was an experience unlike any other, and she did her best to play her part. “Nah, Missy. You just sit tight and let Daddy do all the work,” he replied, arching his hips above the bed and literally fucking her into oblivion. [Y/N] was seeing stars already, it was so intense. She closed her eyes and raised her head up, opening them to catch a dolphin swimming overhead. She looked back down at her lover, smiling as he noticed, too. He flipped her over, pulling his shirt off and over his head as he did. AJ was like that. He wanted her to feel every part of him, touch every bit of him, make him feel warm and whole like he knew he could do to her. He stopped mid-stroke, pulling the hanging straps of her white dress even lower down her arms, revealing round, plump breasts. She could feel his cock harden even more inside her. He enjoyed a nice ass, of course, but he wasn’t going to say he hated to squeeze a breast or suck on a nipple now and again. So that’s what he did. It was [Y/N]’s turn to moan in pleasure as sucked expertly at her breast, stopping now and again to leave bites along its roundness, a thumb rubbing harshly at her clit, like he knew she enjoyed. He began to tease her, knowing the combined sensations of sucking her nipple, rubbing at her clit, and his quick strokes inside her would be her undoing, so he would slow himself, cocky smile and proud eyes locking onto hers. “Daddy,” she cried. “Don’t tease me like this.” He reached a hand back up to her neck, lightly choking her, making her feel all the more light-headed and dazed. “Not yet, darlin’. Almost.” She held back tears of agony mixed with ecstasy, nodding tersely. He was so close, she could feel it. She clenched around him, her own body begging for release. His breaths were coming fast and shallow, groans spilling from his mouth as well as her own. “God, Missy,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come.” She took the opportunity to dig her nails right into his back, lips right at his ear. “Come for me, Daddy. Oh, God, Daddy, please come for me.” “Yeah?” “Oh, God, yes,” came her reply. And his warm seed spilled within her, her own walls spasming with every stroke, both of them moaning each other’s names with reckless abandon. When at last they settled, AJ dropped his body onto hers, sweat sticking between them, and she held onto him, not once moving underneath him but squeezing him tightly as if to say, “I’m here and I’ll never let you go.” Content, she looked up again, surprised once more, having forgotten where they were. The blue water was marvelous, giving both of them a sense of peace they would probably never feel any place else than beneath this wonderful aquatic view. AJ finally rolled off of her, propped up on an elbow at her side, watching her watch the fish skittering by above. “Happy birthday to me,” he whispered. [Y/N] smiled sweetly at him, opening her mouth and then closing it again, deciding not to speak her mind. “What is it?” he said, puzzled, entranced as he stroked her hair. She laughed. “I guess the only way you can top this now is if we have sex in space.”

[decembercamiecherries]

I LOVE the miraculous au so much it's just so *clenches fist* well written and thought out!!!!! Here's a quick thought what if there was a class overnight trip????? Just gonna put that right here for yah palio! 💕👌

So. The second I got your ask I sent a message to @emthimofnight to see what they thought about this. Below is what we brainstormed (pretty much all of it by emthim though haha) and below that are some small drabbles of this since there’s no way I could write the whole thing ^^;

So you guys get to see a look into the spamming that is me and emthim’s messages about this au hahahaha

But yeah here we go! Thank you for the ask, it was super fun to think about ^-^

Links:

emthim’s Miraculous x Hunter fanart that started this whole AU 

my miraculous x hunter tag with other drabbles

Brainstorming:

so a bunch of kids from Gon and Killua’s school go on a class camping trip to a forest preserveto learn more about nature for their biology class or something

Zushi is there

he’s a year younger than Gon and Killua and looks up to them a lot and kind of sort of has crushes on both of them??? (more so on Gon bc he’s more approachable but still)

Zushi thinks they’re just both so cool and amazing and wow

He feels special that he gets to be a (small) part of their relationship

Kite is the biology teacher and shows them interesting species and insects its great

Knuckle and Shoot are chaperones. Zushi has so much fun with them but they get him in trouble a lot haha

The bus ride over would be fantastic of course

cue Gon, Killua and Zushi being dorks and causing trouble on the bus

Killua squished between Gon and Zushi bc nope, I love you Zushi but THERE IS NO WAY YOU ARE SITTING NEXT TO GON NOPE

Killua can kind of tell Zushi crushes on Gon so there’s no way he’s letting Zushi get that close to his best friend lol

He’s kind of like, ‘ummm who do you think you are? Who’s the best friend in this situation? Its definitely not you buddy. You’re good but not that good’

But of course Zushi wouldn’t mind sitting next to Killua either though……………

And they throw chips and stuff at each other and complain about how hot it is XDDDD Its all good and fun

And when night falls they tell stories around the camp fire and makesmores 

Killua puts like double chocolate on his smore obviously bc this is Kilua we’re talking about here

Gon gets it all over his face and Killua wipes it off out of instinctand earns a lot of looks for it like wow

Killua dies from embarrasment XD

Killua tells a really spooky story that scares Gon and Zushi

When they retire to their tents, Zushi comes over to theirs for a while to chat and hang out

Killua and Gon share a tent because yes they’re that close

When Zushi leaves Killua is relieved because he finally gets somealone time with Gon and then BOOM akuma–maybe from someone playing a prank onanother student like unleashing a jar of Kite’s insects into their tent

The forest is close enough to Yorknew for Meruem tosense it

Campfire scene first for emthim~ :

“What are you saying, Gon?” Killua asked hotly and Zushi winced at his tone. Killua sounded really annoyed this time. “There’s no way Ladybug could defeat Chat Noir on a one-on-one fight.”

Gon didn’t seem to notice Killua’s anger, though. He just puffed out his cheeks indignantly. “Yes, he would! Ladybug’s got his yo-yo!”

“So?”

“So, that’s the strongest ability out of all the Miraculouses! Chat would have no chance-”

Killua cut him off, “That yo-yo only works against akumas, stupid. It wouldn’t work on Chat.”

“Ladybug could still use it though!”

Killua snorted. “As if that thing would work. Chat’s more flexible. He’d kick Ladybug’s ass.” 

He turned around, back to the fire while the flames created a dim halo around his silver hair. Killua’s scowl was still in place but still…Zushi couldn’t help the slight fluttering inside his chest. The whole school might avoid Killua because of his family lineage, but no one could deny his good looks.

He watched as Killua made his way towards where Gon sat. He held out his stick to Gon, saying, “C’mon, Gon. Haven’t you seen the muscle on Chat? Ladybug wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Gon threw him a dirty look. “That’s not- ah, hot.” Gon stuck his tongue out as he pulled the golden marshmallow off Killua’s stick. “That’s not true! Ladybug has muscle!”

“Not as much as Chat,” Killua retorted. He glanced over at Zushi and Zushi’s heart flipped. 

“Hey, throw that s’mores stuff over, would you?”

“Uh, y-yeah! Sure!” Zushi stuttered and inwardly grimaced. Why did he always have to mess up around Killua?! He’d known Killua for years now but his stammering never went away. He tossed the s’mores package that Kite had bought for them to Killua, nearly missing the older teen by a foot, but Killua caught it nimbly.

“Thanks- OI, Gon!!! Wait until you make the s’mores before you eat it!”

Gon blinked up at Killua. Laughter burst out of Zushi before he cold hold it back- Gon had half of the s’more Killua had made for him smudged across his mouth. He looked innocently cute like that, all wide-eyed with a chaotic splash of freckles across tanned cheeks.

“Damnit, Gon!” Killua groaned. “I’m gonna have to make another one for you now!”

“’M sahree,” Gon said between sticky lips. Zushi couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard. He bent over his log, wheezing.

“Don’t encourage him!” Killua snapped over his shoulder at Zushi before turning back to his best friend. “Look, you got it all over your face and everything. Here-”

Killua dropped the s’mores bag onto the ground and plopped down next to Gon. He pulled a napkin out of his pocket, clasping Gon’s chin in his other hand, and immediately starting wiping the marshmallow off Gon’s lips.

The laughter bubbling up in Zushi’s chest disappeared. His jaw dropped at the scene in front of him because- what?! Was this actually happening? 

Killua and Gon were close. Closer then close. Everyone knew that. But this…

This was different. Even though Killua and Gon weren’t doing anything particularly weird, Zushi felt like he was seeing something private. Something that could only be shared between the enigma that was Gon-and-Killua. Something almost….intimate. His gut twisted as his cheeks grew warm at the thought. 

By the time Killua had finished, the small crowd around the campfire was dead silent.

Killua flushed. “W-What? Why are you all staring?!”

Zushi coughed and looked away. He wasn’t gonna be the one to explain the silence to Killua, heir to the infamous Zoldyck family. That was for sure.

Tent scene:

Killua and Gon shared a tent. Because of course they would. Why would they do anything separately that they could do together?

When someone had asked them if they would be cramped in that tiny space, they had both looked at their classmate with blank looks. If he was being honest, Zushi had a suspicion that Gon and Killua shared much more with each other than anyone would ever think.

But, again, he kept that thought to himself. He was just grateful that he’d been chosen to be Gon and Killua’s friend. So few people got to see into their private world, he felt special to be a small part of it.

Even sitting squished in their small ten before they all went to bed for the night was something of a small treat. He sat with his knees tucked to his chest, quietly observing the pair as they ruffled through their backpacks for pajamas.

Killua groaned out loud. “Fuck.”

Gon perked up on the other side of the tent. “What’s wrong, Killua?”

“I packed Milluki’s clothes instead of mine. Dunno how that happened, but-”

“Milluki?” Zushi piped up.

“One of Killua’s brothers,” Gon explained. 

“The guy’s the size of a whale,” Killua added. He held up a purple t-shirt and Zushi’s eyes bulged. The shirt was longer than he was tall.

“I’m gonna look like I’m wearing a nightgown in this,” Killua said matter-of-factly and Gon giggled.

“You can borrow some of my stuff. I brought extra.”

Killua’s expression lit up. “Really?”

“Mhm. Here-”

Gon threw his best friend a much smaller-sized shirt and Killua grunted when it hit his face.

“Gon, jesus, watch it!”

“Sorry!”

“You don’t sound sorry-”

Zushi just stared as the two bickered back and forth. So…they shared clothes, too. Was that normal?! Zushi had no clue. He didn’t have a best friend like Gon and Killua were to each other. But, did anyone have a best friend like Gon and Killua?

Killua suddenly shoved Gon over, face scarlet at something Gon had said, and the spiky-haired teen fell over onto his sleeping bag with a cackle. Killua let out an unearthly hiss of rage and shoved a pillow over Gon’s face.

Killua looked up at Zushi, blue eyes piercing even in the dim light.

“Don’t just sit there, Zushi!” he growled. “Help me!”

“Nooooo,” came Gon’s muffled voice. “Zushi, don’t listen to him!”

“Shut-” Killua dug his elbow into Gon’s stomach and the other squawked, “-up! Zushi likes me better then you!”

“No, he doesn’t!!!” 

A nervous laughter spilled from Zushi’s lips as the pair continued to shove at each other. A prickling heat crept up the back of his neck and he gripped his elbows tightly.

Neither of them had to know how close they were to the truth.

[not-another-imagine-blog]

Not the Needles (Auston Matthews)

Anonymous said:

can you do #62 from the drabble list with Auston matthews where the reader doesn't want to go into the doctors office to get a needle or something like that please? I love your writing btw

#62: “I’m not going in.” - “Then we’re not going to get a treat after.”

Word count: 1435

Warnings: Mentions of needles, mentions of medical care facilities, mentions of Stranger Things (no spoilers, I promise).

Author’s note: This is way longer than I meant it to be, so it’s more of a full out imagine than it is a drabble. 

You wake up to a sudden fit of coughing for the third time this morning. As you sit up, desperately trying to catch your breath, you hear Auston at the door to your apartment.

“(Y/N)? You okay?” He asks.

“I’m...fine…” You wheeze, grabbing a blanket in hopes to stop your chills as you shuffle to the door. You slowly open it and force a weak grin to appear on your face.

“Oh sweetheart, you look absolutely terrible! I thought you said you were better last week?” You shrug.

“Yeah, because that’s what every girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.” You’re so congested that it takes Auston a second to decipher what you said.

“Do you have a fever?” You outwardly sigh as Auston lays a freezing hand against your forehead, the cool providing instant relief. “Jesus, (Y/N), you’re burning up! C’mon.” He gently grabs your shoulders and steers you towards the couch, where you basically fall, already starting to doze again. “Where’s your thermometer?” Auston says gently, stroking your cheek.

“Bathroom.” You mumble. You can vaguely hear Auston rummaging around before he appears in your line of sight again.

“Here.” He holds it up to your mouth. You take it from him and stick it under your tongue, waiting patiently for the beep. When the thermometer finally beeps, Auston takes it from you, his face instantly going white. “When was the last time you checked your temp?” He asks.

“Dunno, maybe...two days ago? It felt like it was going down. Why, is it back up?”

“You have a 103.2 fever. Here, sit up. Don’t fall asleep!” He helps you sit up and wraps you in a blanket when he notices your teeth chattering. Auston fumbles with his phone, dialing a number for what you assume is a doctor’s office.

“Hi, yeah, my girlfriend’s really sick-”

“No I’m not!” You protest. He pulls the phone away from his mouth and looks at you.

“What are your symptoms?” He asks. You tell Auston, who then relays the information to whoever’s on the other line.

“She’s been sick for about a week and a half. Cough, congestion, fatigue, chills, her chest hurts, her face is really flushed and she has a fever of 103.2. She said she didn’t check it for a couple of days because she thought it finally went down. Should I bring her in?” He asks. You close your eyes for just a little bit, hoping you can get some rest. “Hey! No, look at me, okay?” He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Let me sleep.” You whimper, absolutely miserable.

“Yeah, we can be there in 15. Thank you so much, doctor.” Auston turns his phone off.

“We’re gonna go to the hospital, alright? They think you have pneumonia.” You try and get up, waving Auston’s hands away. You’re all too grateful for him, however, when your legs give out and you go falling to the ground. Auston catches you and hauls you up, deciding to just carry you to the car.

“Auston, I haven’t changed my outfit in, like, two days.” You grumble, looking down at one of Auston’s Leafs hoodies that you had stolen and the pair of black leggings that you had been wearing after you left class early two days ago. Auston laughs.

“I promise you, that’s the least of everyone’s worries right now.” He puts you in the passenger seat and helps you get buckled up before getting in on his side, starting his car and driving more erratically than normal. You start to doze again as Auston talks on the phone, weaving in and out of traffic.

“Not gonna be at practice...She’s really, really sick, Coach...103...Maybe pneumonia?” You catch bits and pieces of the conversation as you drift in and out of consciousness.

“Are you missing practice?” You mutter, not opening your eyes. Auston glances over at you, rubbing your knee.

“It doesn’t matter. I just want you to get better.” He pulls into a parking space and quickly carries you into the urgent care clinic. The moment the two of you enter the sterile building, a doctor greets you.

“You must be Auston and (Y/N)?” He asks. Auston nods, setting you in a chair. The doctor kneels down in front of you.

“(Y/N), can you follow my finger?” He shines a light in your eyes as you do what he says. The doctor clicks the light off and checks your vitals quickly.

“We’d have to do some more tests, but I’m almost certain she has a pretty good case of pneumonia and a good bit of dehydration.”

“Is she going to be hospitalized?” Auston asks. The doctor shakes his head.

“No, we can prescribe you the medication and get some fluids in her through an I.V. really fast, shouldn’t take longer than an hour.” Now it’s your turn to go white as you sit upright in the chair.

“No!” Auston and the doctor both look at you as you shake your head. “I’m fine, I-I don’t need an I.V.”

“Can you give us a minute before taking her back?” Auston asks. The doctor nods.

“Of course.” He steps away, giving you two some privacy. Auston turns to you, lips twitching.

“Are you scared of needles?” You don’t even bother to make up some excuse.

“Maybe I am, so what?” You challenge.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to be there the whole time. You’ll only feel a little stick and then you’ll feel so much better, I promise.”

“Auston, I really don’t want to do this.” Your eyes start welling up, a combination of being sick and being scared overwhelming you.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t be scared. Look...after you’re done, we can binge watch Stranger Things on Netflix? And we can get ice cream; I’m sure your throat must be killing you.” You both had been dying to watch Stranger Things, having made a pact that you wouldn’t watch it alone. Unfortunately, the both of you were too busy to even watch the first episode together.

“But don’t you have a game tonight?” You ask. Auston shakes his head.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re sick, I’m not going to abandon you like that.” You hold out a hand, letting him know you’re ready. He helps you up and the two of you follow the doctor to the exam rooms. You stop right outside the room, however, when you see the I.V. bag and needle sitting on the counter.

“I’m not going in.” You start trying to back up, Auston’s strong arms stopping you.

“Then we’re not going to get a treat after.” Auston says stubbornly. You laugh and look at him.

“What am I, five?”

“I don’t know, are you?” You sigh, eventually walking into the room. You shakily sit in the chair, eyes never leaving the needle. Auston pulls up a chair and sits, hands holding yours. “Look at me, (Y/N).” He coaxes. You tear your eyes away from the needle and look at his smiling face. “You’re doing really good, y’know that? I just wish you would’ve told me you were still feeling terrible.” You shrug.

“You’ve been so busy lately, and the team’s doing so good! I just didn’t want to tear you away from it because I had a cold.”

“It’s obviously not a cold. We’re a team, (Y/N). That means that we work together. I’m not going to leave you in your time of need. What’s that thing they say? ‘In sickness and in health?’” He teases.

“We’re not married, Auston.”

“Rules still apply.” He challenges.

“Is the needle in my arm yet?” You whisper.

“Sweetheart, it’s been in your arm for a good two minutes.” You look and, sure enough, there it is, sitting snug against your arm, fastened in place by tape. You let out a laugh of triumph before whipping your head back towards Auston.

“Yep, definitely cannot look at it.” You confirm. Auston chuckles before kissing your forehead.

“I hope you’re ready for nine hours of Stranger Things.” You nod enthusiastically as Auston continues to keep your mind occupied.

Auston is sucked into the show immediately, something you had easily anticipated. When the boys find Eleven in the woods, Auston lets out an actual gasp.

“This show is so good, (Y/N).” He looks at you to see your response when, instead, he sees you lying against his shoulder, sound asleep. He adjusts you to make sure you’re comfortable and pulls the blankets up over the two of you before kissing your forehead and turning on the next episode.

[xhellxboundx]

Cultural Misunderstanding||Drabble

For Dana it had at first been his bright red skin tone that attracted her. The color was unique, but that fact that it covered a very muscular and attractive frame did nothing to deter her. She had a boyfriend...this was harmless...it wasn’t like she was going home with him. Sure she’d have liked to take him on a test drive but she wouldn’t do that to Carver. Carver was already out of his element for her, it would be one thing if they broke up, but if they broke up because SHE cheated on him, she knew he’d never have a normal relationship again...so this...it was harmless. 

“Okay...look...this is really weird but...like can...I touch you...” Dana flushed as that wasn’t how she meant it to come out.  He laughed then grinned wickedly, “Wherever you’d like.” 

“That...is not what I meant...I mean...we don’t have...red people here, I was just curious if your skin was like ours or different,” now she could barely look at him. 

“We’re almost the same color now,” he chuckled wickedly, he stared at her intently, “You’re embarrassed cute, that doesn’t happen to Sith women much, they’re very blunt,” he held out his arm for her, still smirking wide. 

She smacked him on the arm lightly, “Shut up,” she bit her lip a little then reached out and gingerly put her hand on his arm and was actually surprised to find the texture to be a little different, much smoother almost like it had less texture but it was much...tougher. She had scarcely realized that her hand was moving up and down his arm squishing at him with wonder. There were sharp bony protrusions near his elbows and shoulders, his joints seemed to be...harder than humans, she came to the conclusion their bones were much more dense.  She only realized that she’d probably been touching him longer than what was appropriate when he reached out with his free hand and brushed the back of his hand over her cheek, “Humans are so soft and fragile,” he muttered. She was red one more..she noticed black claws at the tips of his fingers instead of nails...it occurred to her that Decimia didn’t paint her nails black that they were naturally that color. His hand was in her hair brushing down the side of her neck, then tracing her jaw line. 

It was a bar they’d taken them too, Decimous seemed to be infatuated with trying the different beers and liquors that they had and now that they’d calmed down Decimia was speaking amicably with her brother. The Irish folk that worked under Fae mulled around as usual, but many of them watched Dana. They knew their boss would be pissed, a quite a few sent him messages to inform Fae of what his daughter was currently doing. Of course they also were stupid enough to try to intervene. 

Dana swallowed hard Oh boy, “Um I didn’t mean to...I was curious...I guess I got a little out of hand, sorry...” she said quickly, of course it would be easier if he wasn’t attractive, “You see, I, um, have a boyfriend and he probably wouldn’t be so thrilled with this...proximity...actually he’d probably lose his shit.”  He was smirked at her now and his thumb traced her lip, “I know you have a mate, but I know you also want me, I have no problem satiating your curiosity.” 

“Um...” she nearly really did match him and she pulled her head away from him, “Why do you...How...” 

“Which part, one of them is clearly obvious,” he smiled amused and smug at the same time as he prodded around in her mind a bit more, he reached out cupping the back of her neck and tugged her back to him, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, “Let’s be honest, I could have you right here if I was so inclined.” 

“Whoa whoa, Excuse me?” Dana started to stand but he shook his head. 

“Shh, sit back down,” he said using mind control to get her to listen. 

At first she did just that before shaking him off and standing again, but then she felt an indescribable pressure in her head...not her head...her mind. She was far closer to him than she wanted to be. He was speaking in her ear now but she couldn’t quite grasp the words. She picked up the word ‘Mate’ and children and panicked but slowly her body started to not respond.  Just as suddenly she was on the ground. 

“Savicious! We are not at home that is unacceptable,” Decimia stood in between them.  Dana started panicking, “W-what did he do to me? What...How did he?” her eyes were wide with terror as she somehow felt violated. 

“He tried to dominate your mind, a common tactic when one isn’t getting what they want fast enough, or if one happens to be a control freak, or if one happens to be a prick,” Decimia narrowed her eyes implying it was the latter option. 

“You have no right, little sister, or have these human made you forget your place,” he sneered. 

She rolled her eyes, “My place is about to be with my foot up your ass, leave the girl alone.”

“M-my mind, he...violated...my...he was in my head,” fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she started hyperventilating. She couldn’t help but think she should have listened to Ark, she shouldn’t have brushed him off. Everyone was staring, no doubt once again many of them had sent messages to their boss to tell him something was definitely very wrong. Two of the men moved cautiously to pick her up off the floor. 

“It’s alright lass, yer father’ll be here soon,” one of them muttered to her, actually hugging her as she clung to him tightly. 

“I will have her, but first I apparently must remind you where you came from,” Savicious said calmly. 

Decimia was protecting the girl’s mind, she’d grown fond of the Lehanes even the lewd son. Dana, however, had a bit of a soft spot as she introduced Decimia to the world without even questioning why she didn’t know things that were pretty basic to humans. Not only that, but she actually seemed to delight in showing her things that were new to her.  Decimia could feel Savicious switch his focus from Dana’s mind to hers, and he wasn’t nearly as kind to her as he tried to force himself into her mind. it was excruciatingly painful. She got the distinct urge that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to take her mind but just wanted to cause her pain. That was when the physical fighting began, a hard right hook to the side of her head jarred her and made it hard to focus on keeping him out of her head. She heard Decimous warning others not to interfere, that this was a family matter that would be resolved quickly.  She wasn’t going to let him beat her that easily. She focused on keeping him from her mind but let instinct take over in the physical battle. She didn’t know if Fae was aware or not but that was something she’d learned indirectly from him. He’d done it in sparring matched with her, the fights became vicious. Just like this one was becoming but this wasn’t for fun. Savicious was trying to beat her into submission. There was a lot of blood already, though she was pleased to note it wasn’t all hers. It took all her Force control to keep him from her mind so her only option was physical. He was bigger than her...stronger, and was a pureblood they were more durable. Eventually her only course of action was to continue to stand back up she didn’t have the strength anymore, to do anything else but give him a ‘fuck you’ glare. 

“Stay down sister,” Decimous whispered softly, she must have looked like hell as he actually sounded concerned. 

“Take his advice,” Savicious sneered, still she stood, and he advanced on her. 

“Enough brother,” Decimous said softly, trying to keep his voice from sounding like a command and more like a request lest he have to fight his brother as well. 

She realized she couldn’t see, her eyes must have been swollen shut, but she heard Savicious growl and advance towards her once more. She actually flinched but the blow didn’t come. 

“We can discuss this later when you can see again,” Savicious said tersely.  He felt a little bad, she realized. In Sith culture a spat like there’s wasn’t uncommon and it wasn’t a lack of fondness, but just an extremely violent culture. She heard him retreat and then he was like a collective breath had been let out and she could heard everyone in the bar again. Dana was shouting profanity, as were a few others...it took her a moment to realize that Decimous was holding them all back. Suddenly there were hands on her and she flinched. 

“Easy Lass, gotta get that swellin’ in yer face down before it ruptures your eyeballs,” the accent was different, she realized it was the Scotsman, they called him...or Scotty. 

She relaxed a little as he led her about and nudged her forward, “Now just relax, this might hurt a bit,” he warned her. She felt a sharp pain in her already throbbing face and she heard blood pour into the sink but she felt the pressure in her head lessen and she groaned a little in relief. She realized after a moment that she’d be able to see if it wasn’t for the blood in her eyes. The Scotsman wiped the blood from her face, “Stay over the sink, I’ll get ya some ice,” he told her. 

She could have started healing herself but she wasn’t sure she was ready to trust that her brother wouldn’t invade her mind when she let her guard down. Blood was in her eyes again, “Is Dana okay?” she asked to no one in particular. The room went a bit quiet though so she wiped the blood from her eyes, a bit worried her brother had come back but she found she was looking across the bar at Fae. Dana was clinging to him tightly, she only stared at him briefly before immediately looking away.  She normally made a strong effort to keep others from seeing her as weak or vulnerable but now she felt like wounded prey. She had done nothing but display confidence and sass in his presence, but she had no strength to hold any masks. She felt a familiar calming presence and suddenly Ark was at her side, with the Ice, the Scotsman had told her he was getting. He pressed it to her face, when she flinched he apologized but didn’t pull back. She adjusted to the change in pain levels and relaxed, “No one answered me,” she muttered. 

“I’m fine, Jesus, what the hell were you thinking?” Dana said finally. 

She chuckled softly, “Mostly...ouch...and my brother’s a dick,” it earned a few chuckles...perhaps she had a little strength to hold up a light mask, but it was easy to see through. 

“I should have listened to you Ark, I am so sorry...I didn’t...” Dana shook her head. 

Decimia shrugged, “Culture misunderstandings, if I understand correctly it happens between your own people,” she muttered, “Though...I’d avoid him, his ego is still sore.” 

“I’ll kick his fuckin’ ass and sell him as taxidermy,” she growled. 

“Probably not the best thing to try lass,” She heard the Scotsman behind her. 

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Decimia muttered. 

“Concussion,” Scotty informed her, “We should get you to a medic.” 

“No, I’m good,” Decimia muttered forcing herself to stand up right, the world spun a little around her, and everything hurt, her hand reached out to steady herself on Ark’s shoulder, her back was now to the rest of the bar still refusing to look at the Crime Boss, “I just need a little air.” 

[baronvontribble]

Original drabble, pt. 5

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

yeeeeeeee

It was cold on the way home the same as it had been on the way to work. The bus didn't run from anywhere near the store to anywhere near Ted's apartment building in an amount of time that made walking the less reasonable option, so he walked the whole way. By the time he got to his door, his cheeks and nose and ears stung with the cold; the relief of putting down his bags long enough to get out his keys only lasted the amount of time he spent not picking them back up again, which he inevitably had to do to go inside.

He slumped heavily against the door the moment he'd closed it and held onto the bags just long enough on their way down to the floor to make sure nothing broke, but after that, all bets were off in terms of physical activity. "I'm home," he called out, closing his eyes and letting himself breathe. Fuck, walking had been a bad idea.

"Is this where I'm supposed to ask you how your day went?" the AI's voice asked him, and Ted let out a wheezy chuckle.

"Well for starters," he said, "if we were really following the script? Slippers. And dinner. Already made, nice and hot. Falls apart when you get to the 'sit in front of the television' stage though, what with me not having one."

"That's a shame. It didn't even get to the part where you threaten physical violence if I'm not quick enough with your alcoholic beverage."

"Jesus. I think I'll skip that one, thanks. I mean for one thing, I don't drink." Heaving a sigh, Ted straightened back out and made his way to the kitchen to put the groceries away, draping his coat over a chair as he went and leaving his keys and phone on the counter. The only things that stayed out beyond that were the HD camera made for streaming purposes and the sandwich he'd bought to act as a reasonably well-rounded meal. "Where'd you hear about that shit anyway? Kinda antiquated at this point."

"Case files. Domestic cases weren't the kind of thing I handled, but I still had to be educated in how they worked. I had to be able to take notice of everything that might count as evidence in any given case because the data I recorded could be used in court." Whether Ted was anthropomorphizing or not, the tone of the AI's voice made it sound like he was smiling. "Ended up being used against a few human co-workers too. I didn't have much in the way of agency, but if I saw something, I still reported it."

"Aw, so you're a good cop."

"No." A firm statement that left no room for argument; the good-natured tone was gone just as easily as it had crept in, impressing Ted all over again at the tuning. "Good cops are the ones who stop what they're doing when they realize it's wrong."

That just sounded all kinds of wrong to Ted. "Some people might say there's a lot of grey in there. If leaving puts your life in danger, for instance. Or if you don't have any real say in what you're doing." He wasn't sure what this guy had done, but he'd never gotten a bad vibe from any of their little talks over the past couple days. And usually his instincts about people were pretty spot-on.

But that firm tone was back again, giving no ground. "Ted, please," the AI insisted, "I'd rather not talk about this."

"Seriously though," Ted continued. "I mean you left, didn't you? Yeah, maybe it took longer than it should've, I don't know enough to make any kinda call on that, but it seems to me like you had a limit to how much you were willing to-"

"Ted." The volume had been turned up significantly, hard enough to rattle the laptop's cheap onboard speakers. Admittedly that didn't take much, but it still stopped Ted dead in his tracks. "Don't."

Just like that, all the good humor had been sapped out of the room. Ted let out a slow, steadying breath. He just knew this one was gonna claw at the inside of his head for days. "Fine, I won't talk about it." Picking up the box with the camera in it and leaving the sandwich for later, he headed back over to his not-quite-desk and fell into his rickety old chair. "I didn't mean to upset you."

The volume was back to normal when the AI spoke again, and his tone was softer. "I know."

Right, time for a subject change. "Did you read your way through all the books yet?" Ted asked as he wrestled with the box the camera was in. Stupid packaging.

"Not all of them," was the reply. "But I did find a name. You've read I, Robot?"

"Hell yeah." Ted had to grin. "Gonna name yourself after Susan Calvin or something?"

"Wrong book. I meant the short story."

"Ohh..." That one was a bit older than Asimov's stories, if Ted remembered right. "Kinda dark, isn't it?"

The AI ignored his comment. "I did some research. 'Adam' is a common enough name in enough languages that if I pick a similarly common surname, I'll be relatively difficult to track effectively by my name alone."

"And I guess the literary allusion doesn't hurt either, huh?" Ted gave it some thought. "What about the biblical roots of it?"

"I haven't read the Bible."

"Y'know, ate a fruit from the tree of knowledge after watching a woman do it, and then both of them got kicked out of the Garden of Eden by God for disobeying His orders. Original sin, free will. All that jazz."

It was several seconds before he got a response. He heard the fans kick into overdrive for a moment on the main computer tower. "Right."

Damn, almost sounded like the guy had barely tuned that one at all. “What’s that mean? Like, is it good, is it bad-”

"It means I suppose I have a name now."

"You like it?" The box Ted had been struggling with tore open all at once, the cardboard giving way long before the tape did; one layer of packaging down, a bazillion more to go. He took a moment to idly suck on a finger that'd been nicked on the cardboard's edges with a quiet hiss at the way it stung. "I mean, I like it. But I'm not the one who's gotta live with it."

Machines couldn’t scoff, but this one definitely knew how to give the impression of such a thing through his voice. "Functionality is more important than whether or not I like it."

Ted snorted. "Yeah, you like it." One thing he'd learned about this guy: positive feelings were rarely ever admitted to directly. "Got a voice, got a name. Might be tempting fate to say this, but it seems to me you're just about ready to face the world, man."

"Just focus on getting the camera set up."

"I'm working on it, jeez." Foam, plastic, more plastic. Naturally, only about half of it could be recycled. The camera came with a flash drive about the same size as the end of his thumb, and included wireless capability that Ted would probably never use. He was quick to toss the trash aside for Future Ted to deal with, only hesitating when part of the 'trash' was the instructions. However, a cursory glance told him he didn't actually need instructions, and the manual promptly went back into the pile.

Then he let out a tired sigh as he ended up scooting over to what had once been his main computer to pluck out yet another bit from its wreckage: the USB extender. He'd have a lot of rebuilding to do after all of this was finished. His poor gaming rig had been reduced to a pile of spare parts. Honestly, if anyone in the pipeline ever contacted him about a job this big again, he'd probably just tell them to go sit on a cactus. Or at least be really salty about taking said job.

"This might take a little while," he said. "Gotta install the drivers, get the extender plugged into the power strip..." Within moments he was under the desk having a fight with one of the power strips connected to the battery backup, rearranging things until he could make room for the cord to the extender. "Got any music you like?"

"Depends. Am I limited in what media libraries I'm allowed to take it from?"

Ted grinned even as the dust under his not-desks had him stifling a sneeze in his elbow. "Dude, have you seen my library? Half of it is ripped straight off of video upload sites. I'm the last person who's gonna tell you where to go for that shit."

"True." Ted looked up from his work long enough to get a glimpse of the windows open on the laptop, trying to follow Adam's music search as it happened. To say it went a little fast would be an understatement; there was no way in hell he was keeping up. "It's a blend of different genres," Adam informed him. "Part symphonic, part electronic. It's also in Russian. You don't mind that, do you?"

"Not a bit." Just as long as he understood that Ted didn't speak a word of Russian. "Is that where you're from?"

There was no answer except the music as it started to play, and Ted dutifully hauled himself upright to listen.

It was pretty. Ted had no idea who the singer was when her voice entered the mix after a few bars of meandering piano and flowing strings. She had perfect pitch, whoever she was; the tone of her contralto voice made him think of long, flowing black hair framing long, elegant features. One of those fairytale maidens singing about longing and true love and all that profoundly schmoopy nonsense.

Then the beat dropped, and he envisioned the maiden tearing her dress asunder and climbing astride a winged steed while holding a battleaxe, and the longing contralto turned into a one-woman wail of anguish and howling righteousness.

"I would've loved this in high school," he said somewhere during the second chorus, awestruck. He was pretty sure there'd been some Latin in the lyrics somewhere, but he hadn't been listening very hard so it might've been a trick played on his ears. This along with something that sounded like it might've been either badly mangled English or even more badly mangled Esperanto, but he wasn't enough of an expert on linguistics to tell what the attempted lyrics were. It was exactly the kind of melancholic angsty nonsense he would've loved when he was fourteen, and at twenty-seven, he was seeing it as equal parts awesome and endearing.

Adam didn't respond until the song was over, letting it play out before saying anything. Was listening to the echo of it over the speakers and through the microphone different from reading the data of it, beyond a difference in audio quality? A question for another time, perhaps. "It's not what I usually listen to," the AI admitted, in the kind of tone one might use to describe their fondness for Rocky Horror Picture Show or The Room. "From what I've experienced so far, I prefer soundtracks over anything on the radio."

Ted snorted. "You nerd."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Only a nerd tries to justify their cheesier music choices. Just admit that you like this, I dunno, this symphonic emo Russian synth-EDM, and don't look back. I mean, I listen to show tunes."

"Show tunes?"

"Dude." By that point, Ted was grinning from ear to ear. "Broadway? Y'know, musicals. And big band stuff too, like Gershwin."

Several seconds of silence followed, then: "I regret asking."

"Alright, look. Lemme find some and I'll show you-"

"No, I believe you."

"I won't take long, I swear!"

"Ted..."

And this was how Ted dragged an AI into an hour's worth of Broadway sing-alongs, which the AI in question would later call 'torture', followed by Ted suddenly remembering his sandwich and bringing it into proceedings as well in the form of turning lyrics into nonsensical mumbling. This is also how it came to be that the camera did not get hooked up that evening. It didn't even occur to Ted to question why Adam seemed relieved when he gave up on it for the night, because he was having too much fun.