#trolls trail mix au

[thatbennybee]

🌻Scoops Trueleaf🌻

My trollsona/oc!!

I forget to keep posting my art here!!

This is my trollsona (not the homestuck kind sorry), Scoops! Her musician alias is Sorbet!

She was childhood friends with him while they lived in the troll tree! She still talks with Kismet but lost touch with Branch after they moved away from Troll Village shortly after the escape.

She's a very famous singer that lives on the go, but her true home is somewhere in a hidden village outside of Troll Village with her Aunt Pea & Uncle Jelly who raised her in the stead of her parents who are performers/musicians in Symphonyville.

She didn't know the status of Branch until she saw him with his colors & performing in Mount Rageous. She thinks that his brothers eventually came back for him :[ She is very wrong.

[thelargefrye]

February Filth Fest : DAY EIGHTEEN : SIZE KINK … mature one - shot

pairing : norse god!seonghwa x greek goddess!f!reader

genre : smut, viking au, god of war inspired – so a mix of norse and greek mythology in this

word count : 2k

warnings : language, mentions of blood / fighting / weapons (swords, axe, bow and arrows, etc.), hunting for food, feeling grief over a loved ones death, long haired seonghwa in a half-up ponytail, seonghwa is mentioned to be bigger than yn

smut warnings : unprotected sex, size kink, seonghwa's got a breeding kink

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

after having traveled all over midgard with seonghwa and fighting for your lives, the two of you can finally settle down and have a moment together.

DAY SEVENTEEN ↤ SPREAD THE ASHES ↦ DAY NINETEEN

a grunt left your mouth as you were flung into a large tree. you stumbled to your feet, seonghwa swung his axe at the trolls that were around him. blood flown through the sky, some landing on his face as he kicked one troll away before rushing over to you.

his hand wrapping around your forearm and hoisting you to steady feet before swinging at another troll. a smirk decorating his lips as he gave you a side glance.

"come on now, y/n, surely someone who killed all of olympus isn't getting beat by some trolls," he says, the cockiness thick in his voice and you roll your eyes before slashing and stabbing at the nearest troll – the one who sent you flying.

"shut your mouth and focus on fighting before i kill you next," you said and seonghwa lets out a loud laugh before he jumping and hacking at two trolls and effortlessly cutting them down.

when the trolls were all dead, you and seonghwa stood in the middle of the clearly covered in blood before sheathing your weapons.

"well that was a little more excitement than what i was anticipating," he says, turning to you with a smile on his face. but seonghwa always had a smile on his face. "i remember seeing a river along the north trail, lets go wash up before setting up camp."

you nod your head and allow seonghwa to lead the way, following closely behind him as you walked down one of the many dirt paths in the forest. you notice that every once in a while, seonghwa will look over his shoulder to make sure you are still following behind. silently noting your quietness as normally the two of you are going back and forth with each other in a playful bicker.

"what's the matter?" seonghwa finally asks once you are at the river. the both of you stripped down from your bloody armor and carefully washing the blood out. there was nothing you truly hated more than bloody armor, such a disgrace.

you turn towards him, clenching your clothes tightly, "i was thinking about my family," you say trailing off and at your words seonghwa also stops his scrubbing.

his now doe eyes looking at you softly and you hate how he makes your heart flutter and stomach do flips. seonghwa only knows a little bit about your family from greece and olympus, how went on this journey of revenge for your family after zeus took everything from you. you guess his comment from earlier was making you think.

but think about what exactly you aren't sure.

perhaps settling down with seonghwa after this and finally living a peaceful life. but was that something you even deserved?

"y/n," seonghwa is close to you, his bare skin touching your own and it brings you out of your thoughts. you look at him with wide eyes, surprised by how he moved this close to you without you noticing and he easily towers over you. perhaps that's a benefit from him being a frost giant? "what are you thinking? tell me," he sounds like he's pleading almost.

"i want to live a peaceful life, but i don't think i deserve it," you tell him, a chill running over you as you feel seonghwa's hand travel around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"why don't you deserve it?"

"i've done a lot of bad things seonghwa, killed a lot of people, gods, monsters."

"but you've paid your debt, stop living in the past and focus on now. you aren't in olympus anymore, darling. you're here with me now. i don't think hongjoong would want you to live like this, feeling guilty."

your eyebrows furrow at the mention of your dead lover. husband. you felt angry that seonghwa would mention him as if he knew him. without thinking you shove seonghwa away and the water around you two splashes up against you both. seonghwa looks at you in shock.

"don't you dare talk about hongjoong like you know him!" you feel the tears beginning to build up in your waterline, but not from sadness but anger.

"i lost him and our daughter because i was stupid! their deaths haunt me and i see their bodies every time i close my eyes. no matter how hard i try to move on i will always be haunted by their deaths and my mistakes, so don't tell me to not live in the past when that's all i can see!"

seonghwa said nothing as the two of you looked at each other. he was calm and collected while you were the definition of rage. heavy breathing, clenched fists, and tear-stricken face. his silence only made you more upset.

"i'm not asking for you to forget hongjoong and your daughter," he says after what felt like an eternity of silence. "but..." he trails off taking a cautious step towards you, "i want you to realize that you don't have to let their death weigh on you forever."

"seonghwa..."

"you said you wanted a peaceful life, well we can have one. we'll settle down at the small cabin and have our own children. you paid your debt, but you have to give yourself this second chance," he says as he stops back in front of you. his cold hand feels safe when he touches your own.

"i... i don't know," you pull away from him once more, turning away and walking out of the river, clothes and armor in hand as you walk back to the camp you two had set up at the clearing, leaving seonghwa by himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening and early night in silence. the two of you having traveled and been doing this long enough that you could do things around camp without actually talking to one another. seonghwa had went and brought back deer he hunted for the two of you two eat.

and so you sat at the campfire in silence, the smell of meat feeling your nose and cracking of the fire filling your ears. your mind still reeling from what was said earlier. seonghwa was right because he was always right. you didn't need to forget hongjoong and your daughter, but you needed to let their deaths not haunt you anymore.

your eyes flicker to seonghwa from across the fire, his own eyes already looking at you. he had finished eating a while ago while you were still picking at yours. he rolled his shoulders before standing up, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. silently bidding you goodnight before he enters your shared tent.

you don't know how much longer you sit by the fire, long enough for it to die out on its own. you stomp out the remaining glowing embers before crawling into the tent and laying down next to seonghwa.

you think you made up your mind.

"seonghwa," you know he's awake, he always waits for you to join him as you do for him. "can we talk?"

he turns over on his back while you lay on your side to face him. your hand reaches out to take his, linking your fingers together.

"i want to live a peaceful life with you. i want that small cabin, i want our children – your children, i want to take in the wolves, i want to love you everyday that i am able to wake up next to you and after that. i want to try and let go of my guilt enough for this to happen, please help me seonghwa."

seonghwa gives your hand a firm squeeze before he's rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. you let him pin your hands above your head and you can't help the arousal that runs through you when he does it with only one hand. his black locks framing his beautiful face that his clean of blood and war and his eyes are filled with something. lust? love? something else perhaps?

his large frame bends down to kiss you, his hands groping your body as he removes your undergarments so you are now bare and fully naked before his eyes. you watch as he lowers his head and trails his lips down your body; licking, biting, and sucking different marks over your tattered and worn body.

"s-seonghwa," you moan out when he finds home between your legs and licks your pussy slowly and lazily. his eyes never once looking away from yours. he makes out with your pussy, kissing it and letting his tongue drag in and out of your pussy and licking up any juices that you leak. like he's a man dying from thirst and your pussy is his oasis.

seonghwa effortlessly brings you to your first orgasm before he's finally pulling away, but not before pressing one last kiss to your pussy. he once again towers over you, a layer of sweat covering your entire body but you happily wrap your arms around seonghwa to bring into another kiss. your taste yourself on his lips, but you honestly don't mind.

the both of you are breathless when you finally break away, "seonghwa, i love you."

"my y/n, darling, i love you more than you can imagine," he says spreading your legs easily and you can't help but clench at knowing is coming.

"seonghwa, seonghwa, please!" you beg, hands combing through his long locks and brushing them out of his face.

"you know... if we start now, i could have you full and breed by the time we get back to the cabin," he says as you feel the tip of his cockhead running between your folds. "i can just imagine it," he says, slowly pushing himself inside of you, "fuck– you would look so beautiful with my child."

you clench around him the more he pushes inside of you, back arching as his lips latch onto your breast and begin licking and sucking on your nipple.

this isn't the first time you and seonghwa have fucked, but for some reason this felt different. as he thrusted into you, your name leaving his lips and his name leaving yours, you felt full. you felt a warmth spread through you as his taller stature curled into yours and you wrap yourself around him to bring even closer – if it was even possible.

"fuck– seonghwa, i-i'm close!" you could feel your second orgasm coming and it only seemed to drive seonghwa to move his hips faster.

he gave you his smirk, his eyes glazed over with lust, "i'm going to fill you with full of my cum over and over again, darling, until your stuffed and pregnant with my child," he says and you clench at his words. seonghwa does only a few more harsh thrust before you are both cumming. you fill his cum slowly filling you up and and some of it even leaking out around his cock from how much it is.

seonghwa is breathless as he pulls out and quickly folds your legs up and stuffing any cum back into you. you can't help but feel a little flustered at how he that, eyes staring hard at your cum-filled pussy. you then begin to feel a wave of exhaustion rush over you and you are lazily pulling at seonghwa to have him lay next to you.

he lays down next to you with a small 'ugh' sound leaving his lips as he does. you cuddle up next to seonghwa, and you realize that before meeting him, you never would have done this. you rest your head on chest as seonghwa draws his fur cape over the two of you. you can't help but let out a laugh at how it doesn't even fully cover the two of you.

"i want a daughter first," seonghwa says quietly and more to himself than you. "i want to name him dal-nim. it was my mother's name."

"its beautiful."

"what would you name her?"

"idonia," you whisper back, reaching up to kiss his collarbone.

"loving one," is the last thing you hear before you close your eyes and let sleep consume you.

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[headingalaxys-spicy]

*spins wheel*

can I get uhhh an au where England is a sorcerer king and Reader is some unwilling magical familiar and king America is like ‘yeah no, this wouldn’t fly in my kingdom. time to be a hero’? _(:3 」∠)_

Hahahah. Nice intro here you go

Y/N was doing their best to drag more air into their lungs as they evaded the green eye maniac that was hunting them down. They were trying to make it to the small iridescent pool that would allow them to escape the grasp of the deranged sorcerer that wanted to enslave them in the form of being his familiar.

“Come back poppet you’re supposed to obey me not run away. If you come to me now I won’t tourment you as badly.” You dove into the bushes for the hopes that you could keep away from him long enough to enter the portal. Just a few more feet and you’d be safe. You carefully shuffled your body aganist the damp forest floor so he wouldn’t be able to seek you out as easily. The pine needles prodded against your arms and legs trying to prod your soft skin. One needle that was particurally dehydrated graivated to your palm and stabbed it harshly.

It managed to draw blood from you.

You held in your screech by burying your face in the leaves that were beneath you. However your attention on the pain distracted you from the fact that the sorcerer you were evading was hovering over you like the grim reaper.

“Well poppet I’m going to have to tourment you badly.” The pine needle was my warning shot.” His wide mischevious grin made him look like lucisfer himself. His large black gloved hand tightly gripped Y/N’s small body.

“You know if I wanted to be your familiar I’d would have bonded with you when I was first summoned into your dimension. But I didn’t now get over it you luntic!” You squirm and thrash in his constricthing clutch in agony. His hold on you was tightening and you swear you could hear more of your bones cracking.

“Y/N you don’t get it I’m a King and whatever it is I want I get. My way is the only way.” He uses his wand to begin reciting an ancient soul adhesion spell that’s been in his family for hundred’s of years and has proven to be effective on any being. Your body began to feel a mix of fire, ice, and stars swirling beneath your skin and it sunk into all of your senses. The interlocking magical connection that he was trying to forage was beginning to link Y/N to be his new familiar.

“A bond of coercion sounds like a bond that shouldn’t be made at all.” A blinding blue light filled the forest for a brief moment only to unveil the sorcerer king of light: King Alfred.

“How about you butt out? This involves nothing but me and my familiar.” He bared his pearly white K9’s at him.

“You know it’s morally wrong to force a bond with a familiar that dislikes you. Also it’s against the sorceres code of ethics. You really have turned into a sour king.” Alfred raises his eyebrows at Arthur. The crime that he was comming was henious.

“Well I don’t give a da-” Alfred had lunged at him not waiting any longer for the spells hold to solifify in Y/N’s being to King Arthur. He had to stop it before it was too late.

“Hey! What about you butt out don’t you understand you twat!”

Alfred grabs his own wand and subdues Arthur and the foliage aiding in overwheling him. The gaurdian trolls came to investigate the commotion and Alfred’s familiar a golden lion alerts them as to what is going on. The trolls take Arthur from Alfred and begin to set up a trail for his crime.

“Are you alright?” The pristine blue eyed king Sorcerer King brought you to the reflecting pool.

You nod your head yes. You were still shaken from being attacked but knew you’d be able to regenrate yourself once you got back to your realm.

“Safe travels free roaming familiar y/n.”

“Thank you King Alfred.”

Lol. It’s 5:30am 😅

[starmieknight]

Gray Morning, Golden Home

Pairing: (poly) Jeongguk x Jimin x Taehyung x Original Character, [background OT7 implied]

Summary: (Indulgent fluff without much plot) Hari has a quiet morning with her magical boyfriends and their many, many familiars.

Contents: soft, magic!au, college/university!au, fluff without plot, jimin is a troll, jeongguk is a good boyfriend, taehyung is soft, oc is whipped, there are so many pets/familiars i had to make a sidenote to keep up with them all

The morning was cold and gray and damp.

Hari grumbled, still half-asleep as she buried her face in the folds of her comforter. The pale morning light was shining through the gap in her curtain, not warm, but piercing and cool. She was a fan of mornings like these, but still didn’t like to wake up any earlier than she had too. 

Fortunately, it was the weekend and she wasn’t forced from the comfort of her bed by any alarms or pressing arrangements to get to class or work on time.

Hari could hear Bass yelling in the kitchen, the little cat demanding her breakfast as the dogs ran around the linoleum. There was a pause from the cat and the sound of cat food being poured into a dish. She could hear Jeongguk quietly scolding Holly and shooing him away to his own bowl. 

Hari snorted. Rapmon was the one that needed looking after the most when it came to stealing cat food. He was one of the biggest of their bunch, but quite sneaky when he put his mind to it.

She sat up, taking a moment to just stretch and sit quietly while she continued to wake up. Kkanji was laying by her feet, the older cat snoozing quietly with her fluffy tail over her face. Hari smiled at her, amused that Taehyung’s familiar was sleeping with her instead of her own. But Bass was an unusual type and wasn’t one to wait around for Hari to drag herself out of bed when there was food to be had - or other coven members to bully.

Kkanji ‘murrrped’ at her as Hari ran a hand down her soft back, startling the cat awake. A soft purr filled the room as the sleepy witch lavished the familiar with affection before pulling herself out of bed.

The door next to Hari’s was still closed and she could hear Taehyung snoring inside. She cracked it open to take a peak. Three heads popped up from various points on the bed, Soonshim’s eyes glowing in the darkness for a moment before he recognized Hari’s scent. He opened his mouth to let his tongue loll out and his tail thumped against the bed. Yeontan and Sangdol scrambled out of Taehyung’s arms to jump up against her legs for her attention. Soonshim rose and stretched before leaping out of the bed and following the group at a more sedate pace.

“C’mon, guys.” Hari urged them into the kitchen. “Breakfast time.”

Jeongguk looked up at her as she and her entourage entered the kitchen, the dog’s nails clicking against the floor to announce them. He smiled sleepily at her and Hari felt her heart give its familiar jump at the sight. Even after months of exposure, she still had a hard time controlling her feelings.

Holly and Rapmon left his feet and their bowls for a moment to greet Hari and the other dogs before hurrying back. Bass only flicked her ears to acknowledge her witch, too concerned with her breakfast to do much more. Kkanji hurried into the kitchen behind the rest, quietly looking between Jeongguk and Hari to see who would feed her first.

Only Gureum, Mickey and Jjangu were missing from the bunch, the latter pair no doubt dogging Jimin as he got ready, the oldest of the familiars rather clingy to the temporary leader of the coven while the eldest members were away.

Hari was still nervous about how the atmosphere of the house would change when the rest of the boys returned home. Her joining of the coven hadn’t been planned and was an unusual one, given that she hadn’t even met everyone in it yet.

But the way that Jeongguk smiled so warmly at her and opened his arms to usher her in for a hug made her relax, stepping into his embrace like she was coming home. Her head was tucked under his chin and he smelled like a silly mix of Mountain Dew and faint sweet perfume and laundry detergent. She hummed contently.

“You were up all night binging that game again, weren’t you?” Hari asked in amusement, wondering where he found the energy to still pull all-nighters when she could barely make it through the day sometimes. Gureum’s mysterious absence hinted at a magical boost, the little dog likely recharging after helping Jeongguk stay up all night. “How are you awake still?”

“I’m gonna go take a nap after breakfast.” Jeongguk promised before she could scold him. “I figured I could go ahead and cook for you guys since I was already up. Jimin-hyung’s in the shower.”

“Tae’s still asleep.”

“I’ll wake him up when the food’s ready.” There was a vague, tingling feeling in the air that always preceded the use of magic, and the cabinets opened. Jeongguk’s eyes glowed slightly as he pulled plates and utensils out, four sets of tableware floating to the table.

Hari was slightly jealous of his ability, her own magic still too unrefined and imbalanced for her to feel safe with object manipulation like Jeongguk could. It was basic magic skills and her lack of magical upbringing made her own magical education somewhat lacking.

Hopefully Namjoon could teach her control and fundamentals when the rest of the boys returned home. Jimin said he’d offered to help her when they had their last phone call. It wouldn’t take much longer for their coven to be complete again now that the older coven members were no longer looking for the answer to their curse breaking.

There was a squeak from down the hall as the water shut off and Hari realized in the sudden silence that Jimin had been in the shower the entire time. She squeezed Jeongguk once more before letting him return to breakfast and she sat down on a barstool to watch him.

He was quiet and focused, having already set up several smaller side dishes while he cooked enough jeon for everyone. The smell of frying potatoes made Hari’s mouth water and reminded her of the hashbrowns her mom used to make for breakfast back home. Having grown up around her mom’s mostly white family in America and their set ideas of breakfast, the way the boys made their breakfast was still a bit odd to her, especially since most of the time it didn’t feel like breakfast to her.  Hari enjoyed it and was reminded of the few times she’d had breakfast with her paternal grandfather. Luckily for her, Jeongguk listened to her better than her grandfather and remembered her extreme dislike of fried eggs.

Set aside from the boys’ larger dish, was a nice little bowl of scrambled eggs, just for Hari.

Her chest felt warm and content.

Bass, finally finished with her breakfast, brushed up against Kkanji and Rapmon on her way to Hari, jumping into her witch’s lap. Bass’s funny, broken purr was loud in the kitchen as the young cat aggressively showered Hari with love, headbutting the witch’s chin so hard it seemed like she was trying to become one with her.

Hari laughed and scratched the scraggly cat under the chin, ducking down to give Bass better access to her face and receive love.

She nearly fell out of her chair when another head bumped into her own. Jimin caught her easily, laughing at her reaction and keeping her on top of her stool.

“Yah!” she scolded, slapping his shoulder. “You scared me half to death! And you’re dripping all over me!”

Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with mirth as he shoved his head into her neck, making her squeal as her neck was soaked by his wet hair. His silver locks were nearly gray when wet and left cold trails against her skin as he mimicked Bass. The feline familiar was only too delighted with his actions and redoubled her efforts, trying her best to headbutt them both at the same time.

Jimin only pulled back when the cat stuck her nose in his eye.

“Sorry, Hari-ah.” the silver haired man apologized, not looking the least bit remorseful. “I saw my chance and I had to take it.”

“He’ll be worse when you and Hobi-hyung are together.” Jeongguk warned, looking amused. “You guys are both the jumpy type and Jimin-hyung is a troll.”

“You say that like you’re any better,” Hari snorted, leaning back from Bass. The cat promptly lost interest in her and went to harass the dogs.

Mickey scuttered away from her to hide behind Jjangu and Rapmon, still wary of the excitable cat. Hari had to admit that Bass could be a bit of a bully to the smaller dogs if they let her. The witch scooped the Shi Tzu up into her arms for safety.

“I’m a selkie,” Jimin protested, whipping his towel at Jeongguk. “And the fact that you’d compare this face to a troll just proves that you need glasses.”

“Okay, Jin-hyung.” Jeongguk mocked, referencing some trait of the oldest coven member that Hari didn’t understand yet.

Jimin grinned at the joke and ducked down to kiss Hari so quickly that she barely had time to register it, her ears going red as he sauntered over to the stove. “Want me to finish this up? I’m not volunteering to wake Taetae up today.”

“I’ll get him.” Hari volunteered, carrying Mickey with her down the hall. “Gukkie’ll just roll him down the hall when he doesn’t wake up.”

“You just want to make out with Tae without us.” Jeongguk teased, fake-pouting with Jimin.

Hari lifted a hand to flip them off as she rounded the corner, the sound of their laughter trailing after her.

The room was still dark and the air conditioning was blowing a steady stream of cold air in, making it the ideal sleeping setting. It was no wonder why Taehyung slept so well and deeply. 

Hari made a mental note to take more naps with him in his room, the atmosphere just different from her own room in a cozy way. She used her own room for too many things besides sleeping, not having a playroom or art room like the other boys had. From what she understood of the unexplored rooms, the older members of the coven had private workrooms too - music studios and offices, Jimin had explained when she first started living with them.

Maybe in time, she’d ask them to add a room for her too. It would be fun to watch the magic they put into the house bloom.

Hari wondered how the house would sell one day if they ever wanted to move, having so much space inside when it looked so small on the outside. She loved it.

Taehyung snuffled and turned his face into the pillow as Hari pulled the covers back, sliding into the warm space between him and the edge of the bed. The smell of lavender and freshly washed sheets surrounded her, making Hari glad she and Jeongguk had finished the laundry recently. Taehyung procrastinated in changing his sheets too much for her taste, something she learned early on in their relationship.

He turned his head, still asleep but drawn to her warmth. Hari smiled and tucked herself into his side, kissing the edge of his jaw lightly. Taehyung’s lips twitched up into a slight smile, his eyelids fluttering a bit at the new sensation. Hari pressed another kiss to his jaw before starting a trail up to his cheek, his nose and finally his lips. She felt them curl beneath her own and had to pull back when her own smile grew too big to continue kissing him.

Taehyung hummed, trying to chase after her. Hari kissed him again quickly and rubbed a hand over his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging lightly at his hair like she knew he enjoyed. He sighed at the feeling, finally cracking his eyes open to look at her.

“Good morning.” Hari said simply, laying her head on the pillow next to his. She could spend every morning like this, lazy in love with her boys and exchanging hugs and kisses freely. 

It was harder to do outside the house where she was only openly dating Taehyung and left longing to hold hands with Jimin and Jeongguk. At least, in the realm of the non-magical. The boys assured her that things were more liberal in the magical communities.

“Morning,” Taehyung murmured, trailing his fingers over her arms and raising goosebumps from the ticklish sensation. His voice was even deeper than normal and rough from disuse and Hari could feel it reverberate in her chest. “Can I get a wake-up call like this every day?”

Hari pretended to think about it. “I dunno, I may have to rotate schedules with Gukkie and Jimin. I’d like to wake up like this too, y’know.”

Taehyung smiled fondly. “Then I’ll take a turn tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.” Hari said genuinely, stroking her hand over his hair once more. “Jeongguk made breakfast. We’re just waiting on you.”

Taehyung leaned forward to kiss her one more time before sitting up, giving Hari a peekshow of his stomach as he stretched. She eyed the sliver of stomach she could see between his t-shirt and shorts appreciatively. She almost wished that Jeongguk and Jimin weren’t waiting for them so she could have some time to show her appreciation - or that they would come back to the bedroom and join her.

But the sheets were newly cleaned and breakfast was getting colder by the second.

Taehyung muttered something that she didn’t catch as he slid out of the bed, pausing a moment to greet Mickey where he was waiting on the floor, and headed out into the hallway.

Hari watched him go, lingering in his bed for a moment. She closed her eyes and laid back, soaking in the familiar smells of Taehyung. She could hear him join Jimin and Jeongguk in the kitchen, a cacophony of greetings from their many familiars almost drowning the boys out for a moment.

It felt like home.

Hari smiled contently, her heart feeling full.

“Hari-noona! Your breakfast will get cold if you don’t hurry!”

“Hari! Moon Hajoon! Did you get lost?”

“Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

Hari chuckled and called out. “Coming!”

[furidojasutin]

Title: Bloody little secret

Pairing: Fraxus (Freed x Laxus)

Universe: Vampire/Werewolf AU

Rating: T

a/n: HAPPY FRAXUS DAY! I know it’s a pretty cliché au but I’ve had this universe in my head for quite a while and if I’m not gonna manage a multichap thing then I figured I could at least do a oneshot for this. I hope y’all enjoy this <3

The tension Laxus felt while waiting was almost unbearable. There wasn't much to distract him from the mix of feelings in his chest either. The cabin that was located deep in the woods was practically unfurnished and there was nothing for him to focus on, despite the few and very quiet sounds of the pitch-black night. Even with his heightened senses he couldn't pinpoint anything all too interesting right now.

Perhaps he was just not able to focus, knowing what he was here for.

As the leader of his pack it was easier for him to excuse his absence. His deputy would take his role while he was gone and usually the other werewolves wouldn't ask where he was going unless he addressed it himself. It was enough to announce his leaving and give a rough  idea of when he might be back or how long it would take him to finish whatever his mission or task was.

Laxus was just worried that it might be starting to become more suspicious. He had to make sure that all remains of their meetings, scents and other evidence, would be gone before he could return. Over the past few months he had been absent many more times than usual and he had started to have a slightly bad conscious even. What kind of leader was he when he lied to his pack like this? And for such a dangerous reason, too.

Thinking about this too hard would just get him riled up. His muscles had already started to tense and orange eyes had begun to glow with the sudden rush of emotions. So he forced himself to just not think, because that's what he did when these meetings happened.

Not thinking.

At least he tried.

Pacing from one side to the other he wondered why this damn vampire was taking so long. Usually he was pretty on time. Maybe there had been trouble in his own among his own group of people  but actually it didn't matter because they barely ever talked about this kinda stuff. There wasn't... lots of talking to begin with. Short conversations here and there, but most of them were provoking and teasing and not of any importance. Although he felt like that was starting to change.

It was absurd how their relationship had started to develop under these circumstances. Because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he had realized that there was more than just a sick desire going on in his heart and he had caught himself wondering once or twice (or more) whether Freed felt the same.

Count Freed Albion Justine.

Laxus remembered hearing stories about this vampire back then and in the present days. The story of how Freed Albion Justine had killed his own father in cold blood before taking over the rulership of the vampire nation was wide-spread and it struck different emotions in people's hearts. Even his grandfather, Makarov, used to tell him about this truthful tale before he passed away and for some time Laxus had found it weird that Makarov didn't seem to be ill-disposed towards Freed. Nowadays, Laxus understood why that had been the case.

Freed's father had deserved that death and Freed turned out to be a far better ruler than his father was.

When hearing all this and realizing that the death of Freed's father had bettered a lot of things, Laxus had felt a sense of like-mindedness, a sense of connection. He himself didn't know where his own father was now, which lands he wandered if he was still alive... But sending Ivan into exile had been one of the first and best decisions Laxus had made as the new leader of the pack.

So here they were... A werewolf and a vampire with shitty dads, both now leading their respective group of people.

A sudden knock on the door had Laxus' blond hair bristle and his instincts immediately kicked in. Who the hell was that, knocking on this door? While in his more human-looking appearance his senses weren't as good as they would be if he transformed but they were still sharp enough. His teeth were bared in a snarl but his features immediately relaxed when he registered the scent of the newcomer in the next second.

And then a voice cut through the silence.

“May I enter?”

Laxus didn't need to see the other's face for him to know that he was smirking. His voice was telling enough and Laxus found himself snorting. Someone was very funny.

“You know you don't have to do this shit. You can enter without me giving you permission.”

Humans had many weird conceptions of how supernatural creatures worked but as long as they didn't get to know of their actual existence, Laxus didn't care. They should just simply stay in their damn lane.

“Right, right,” the voice muttered before the wooden door opened and Freed entered the cabin. He simply let the door fall shut behind him and his piercing red eyes were on him already. Laxus felt the first thrill rattle his body and he hated and loved it all the same. “Hello Laxus, it's a true... pleasure to meet you again. I apologize for the delay, there was some business that I had to attend to first. I'm sure you understand.”

“Sure,” he responded curtly. The way Freed had emphasized the word 'pleasure' had successfully send the next thrill through him. He hadn't even noticed that he had stopped pacing around the room, had stopped moving at all. It was as though all movement had ceased to exist ever since Freed had entered the room and he was unable to pinpoint just what this feeling was. Everything this vampire did affected him somehow. Every carefully chosen word, every gaze, every action.

At this point it was a small comfort to know that all of this was an arrangement that pleased both of them. In the beginning Laxus had dismissed all of these reunions as a selfish act for both of them. He got to experience outstanding, different pleasure and Freed would get an exquisite meal out of this. It was simple as long as they kept a certain amount of awareness, carefulness.

Except that it wasn't a selfish act, and he had realized. It wasn't just a logical, egoistic arrangement for either of them but they had yet failed to really address what was going on, what was developing here and what else they both wanted.

Because there was so much more to have than just... this. Physically and emotionally.

Freed's low-heeled boots made quiet sounds as he walked around the room, inspecting the empty walls as though there was anything excited to see. He looked so elegant in his fancy garments, dangerously so. “Your senses used to be sharper, or is that just me?” He hummed, then turned on his heels and smirked right at Laxus. “I could smell hostility for a brief moment before you realized it was me.”

Laxus had started to love that smirk a little too much, though that didn't keep him from giving a disgruntled growl at the suggestion, his big sharp teeth showing perfectly in a warning. “I didn't expect you to knock like a trolling idiot.” And I was distracted. Despite the pleasure these meetings had allowed him to feel, he had always been ready to sink his teeth and claws into Freed's cold, pale flesh should he attempt to betray and intend to seriously harm or even kill him. Although this certainly wouldn't be an easy fight...

There had been no such occasion as yet and at this point he was very sure that he didn't have to worry about possible treason. Thinking about it, Freed had even genuinely warned him that he could possibly lose control when they did this the first few times. He surely wouldn't have done this if he seriously planned on harming him. Which was a good thing... Very good. It was very good indeed that he didn't have to worry about having to fight Freed after very likely having developed feelings for this Count.

“What should I say, I'm in a good mood.”

“Oh yea?” Laxus tried to play it cool, raising a thick brow and crossing his eyes before his broad chest. He was less prepared for Freed to step closer, so close that there were only a few inches left between their faces.

“Yes. Of course, seeing you contributes to it as well.”

Sometimes it was hard to tell whether Freed was just teasing or if he was serious. However, in the course of their meetings Laxus had learned to interpret certain stirrings in the vampire's face and he was pretty sure that there was something very genuine in those red eyes as they were pinning him down. Maybe even the hint of a smile on the other's lips. They had been this close before but his urge to feel Freed's lips on his own had never been so distinct as it was now.

But he didn't move. Neither did Freed.

Perhaps he was waiting for him to reply still, he then realized, and quickly cleared his throat. Eyes were narrowed, feigning suspicion, but there was nothing explicitly negative in his voice. “I've been looking forward to this as well.” It was a clear understatement but that was okay because Freed surely knew.

Judging by the quiet chuckle that followed he was right with that guess.

“So have I,” the vampire agreed and took a step back again. Laxus watched how he began to circle him but it didn't stir any uneasy feelings within him. “Do you want to tell me about your month? Any particular troubles, any stress?”

“What are you now, my therapist?” Laxus snorted and tried to follow Freed's movements.

Freed just smiled to himself in amusement it seemed. “By no means. I just figured that it wouldn't be all too bad to catch up.” Something in the vampire's tone changed towards the end of the sentence. It was as if his voice trailed off and a shadow covered his face for a split-second before it was all gone again and suddenly Freed was standing right behind Laxus. “But it's alright if you don't have any interest in such conversations. We can just go ahead.”

He could feel Freed's breath on his neck. In contrast to the vampire's skin his breath was warm and this mere change of position and tone began to stimulate Laxus' senses. There was so much to focus on in that moment that his mind couldn't keep up right now. The vampire was almost a head shorter than him but with Freed behind him he felt smaller... Weirdly enough, it wasn't in a negative way. It was exciting, and began to feel soothing when he felt the other trail his nails along his sides.

Laxus' hair bristled slightly and he could hear Freed chuckle behind him. He had figured out just what reactions he could draw from the werewolf.

Then there were Freed's previous words and the way his voice had changed shortly. Had it been a tinge of disappointment? Part of Laxus wanted to argue that he didn't have something against talking. In fact, it would most likely help to develop their relationship further and despite all the hardships and danger that this brought with it, this was what he genuinely wanted. But then Freed had suffocated any attempt to respond and now he was getting too distracted to read any more into this interaction.

Why did they both have to make this so difficult?

“Are you relaxed?”

His voice was tempting and so close that it drew all of Laxus' attention without any effort. One of Freed's hands had come up to Laxus' throat, his long nails leaving a feather light-trail on the thin skin. It had been so foolish of him to think that he's had no other reason to let the vampire do this with him other than the pleasure. He was practically baring himself to this other lethal being willingly, with so many risks, and yet still he had been so silly to try and convince himself that this was not important.

He thought about Freed day and night and it was becoming more and more dangerous. They were breaking so many rules.

Swallowing in excitement, Laxus found himself nodding slightly. “Yea, I am.”

“So I can go on?”

The raging heart beat in his chest was so prominent that he was sure that Freed could hear it. Yet again there was a change in the other's voice. It had turned breathier, less controlled... and he could smell the excitement clearly now. It almost overwhelmed his sense of smell as it grew more intense because it was something so amazing to focus on.

“Do it.”

And then everything changed drastically. Freed's hands had dropped to settle on Laxus' waist and all he felt for a long moment was pain when sharp teeth tore through the skin of his neck. The pain was so consuming that Laxus was unable to control his reaction, gasping and gaze going wide. Eyes began to glow in a bright orange color and his body tried to determine what was happening, trying to deal with the invading teeth. He began to shake and shudder and Freed's grasp on his hips tightened in response, keeping Laxus' bulkier body close with ease.

It took a few moments until he was more or less accustomed to it again. He doubted that someone could ever be fully accustomed to this kinda thing, though maybe he didn't even want to. It was supposed to stay an exciting experience after all. Exciting and dangerous and... very intimate.

He could hear his blood pump in his veins, he could smell how biting him affected Freed. The Count had confessed to him before how delicious the blood of a werewolf was to him and it had given Laxus a slightly ominous feeling, not knowing if Freed had killed a werewolf merely for their blood before or not, but at this point there had been so many occasions for them to kill each other that it simply wasn't gonna happen.

“F... Fuck...,” he breathed weakly. Glowing eyes squeezed shut and his body began to spasm more when Freed sucked harder for a moment. He heard a sound that was close to a groan behind him and his own mind became dizzier with every long second that passed while he had Freed drink his blood. His skin was tingling and his hair stood upright as pain and blatant arousal mixed up together in a wonderful struggle. It was indescribable, being drained and filled with life at the same time.

Mouth equipped with sharp teeth was agape. Laxus wasn't sure if he imagined one of Freed's hands dropping dangerously low, if he imagined those fingers dancing across his lower region alluringly. If he did, then it was a fucking great imagination to have, one that just added to the entire scene. The vampire’s skin was so cold that he could even feel it through his clothes, the cold meeting the heat of his own body. He smelled Freed's equal arousal, felt it the more the other pressed himself against him from behind. It was intoxicating. It was one of the best and most erotic things Laxus ever got to experience in his life.

A human would be dead right now but he was right here, the leader of the werewolf pack, although the dizziness started to take over in a pace that was making him addicted, and Freed wrapped his strong arms around his torso now to still the reoccurring spasms and to be as close as possible. An act of fondness, possibly, hopefully. Laxus liked that thought, though there wasn't a whole lot to think right now.

It was as he thought in the beginning... There wasn't much thinking when they met up. At least not when they got to this part. But that wasn’t bad, was it? That they could both indulge and... trust each other with this dangerous practice?

His body had strength left to squirm in both the subconscious instinct to escape this death trap and the far more prominent sensation of pleasure, though as Freed continued to satisfy his hunger and maybe other needs he felt how the act drained the color from his sight more and more. Laxus was filled with the the pleasing sensation, the feel of Freed close to him and he needed it to last as long as possible. If he ended up blacking out again then he knew Freed would break away and hold him steady until he woke up and this knowledge was much more valuable than Laxus had taken it to be at the start. He could be grim, he could be cocky, he could be teasing, he could be strong and he could be vulnerable.

He could be who he was and perhaps this was something important that had been missing for a huge portion of his living time.

This vampire was somebody he could trust with his life and it had helped Laxus realize that one of his sincerest desires was to further share this life with him, whatever the cost may be and whatever dangerous road they would have to take.

There was a lot they had to work on and work through, but he was ready.

[kaioken16]

After a Long Day

Mallek Week 2021 Day 7

Day 7: Free Word Count: 1644 Rating: Mature  Character(s): Mallek Adalov, Original character

AO3 Link

A/N: Last piece for Mallek Week, I had a lot of fun writing all these pieces, and I’m ending with another self-indulgent piece between my OC, Zack and Mallek in a modern day AU, where Mallek works in an office while Zack is in last year of university. I gave this fic a mature rating as there’s are scenes from passionate make outs, touching, biting and implied light sexual intimacy but it’s quite brief. 

Summary: After a long stressful day of working in the office, Mallek comes home and begins to unwind with his favorite pass time... Teasing his boyfriend. 

It had been a long day at the office, to say that Mallek was tired would be an understatement. The commute to and from work was always a long trip, and today had been a rough shift, mountains of paperwork, losing half his documents when the servers crashed, adding an additional 3 hours onto his workload. He was just relieved to be home, and not have to think of work until tomorrow...

Mallek drops his bag off by the door, and kicks his shoes off, removes his jacket, and throws it on the hook, then loosening his tie. He makes his way down the hallway, until he reaches the doorway for the kitchen, peering into the room, a lazily grin appears on his face.

Zack was sitting at the table, he had his back to the doorway and was wearing headphones, so he hadn’t heard Mallek come in. His head was gently swaying along to the beat of whatever song he was listening to. He was wearing one of Mallek’s blue t-shirts, some long grey pants, and socks. Seeing the human always made Mallek peep up a little, and he walks up behind Zack and with no warning, he just taps Zack’s shoulders, which of course made the other flinch, as Mallek spooked him.

“Oh geez!” A short gasp as he looks to see Mallek, and he chuckles, removing his headphones. “Hey, you scared me. I didn’t hear ya come in...”

“Obviously, these are at full blast.” Mallek teases as he can clearly hear the song.

“Sorry about that...'' He apologizes for scaring Zack before he leans close and kisses his cheek.

“Ah, it’s okay.” Zack smiles, a light dust of blush spreads on his cheek.

Mallek hums, before he locks his arms around Zack’s neck, leaning against him. A small yawn slips out from his lips, he has a rather sweet smell, probably from his aftershave that he wore, mixed in with his natural scent. It was a smell that Mallek associated with the other and it served to relax him.

“You look tired... Long day huh?” Zack assumes Mallek would only get like this during very tiring shifts. Sometimes he would come home and go straight to their room and crash on the bed.

“Mm-hmm. Don’t get me started...” Mallek answers as he lazily starts planting kisses on Zack’s head.

“I won’t. You’re home at least so just relax okay.” Zack reaches up and gently strokes the side of Mallek’s face.

“I need to do a grocery run tomorrow since there's not a lot of things in here to cook, so I’ve ordered some pizza earlier, it should be here in like 30 minutes or less.” Zack says as he had planned to make them dinner after he got back from his classes, but they had forgotten to do a major shopping for food and ingredients.

“Sounds good…” Mallek answers as he could go for pizza, he didn’t even need to ask the other which ones he got, as Zack already knew what his favorite was.

“Okay, I’m gonna get out of these clothes and hop in the shower.” He says, hesitantly released Zack from his hug, but his hands were now holding onto his shoulders.

He laughs, as an idea pops into his head. “Would you like to join me?” That offer earns him a giggle from Zack who looks up at him, their eyes meeting again.

“As tempting as that sounds, and it really does… But should be here for when the food comes.” “Aww.” Mallek pouts, but that was a fair excuse, wouldn’t want the delivery to show, and they were both preoccupied to answer the door with their fun times in the shower.

Zack looks at that face and then sighs softly, and stands up from his seat. “How about a compromise.” He says before turns around, facing him, placing his hands on each side of Mallek’s face, gently holding him as he softly presses his lips on Mallek’s.

Mallek’s cheeks flush a shade of blue, his hands find their way to Zack’s hips. His lips open allowing for Mallek’s tongue to enter his mouth, the faint taste of a cigarette, and coffee and were still on the troll’s tongue, along with the metallic tinge of his piercing. Deepening their kiss, they tightly hold each other, they move across the kitchen as Mallek playfully pushes Zack up against the counter, he then moves his hand down and lifts his boyfriend up onto the counter, Zack’s legs cross around Mallek’s waist, and arms wrap around him. Mallek breaks off their kiss, a soft moan as he then starts to kiss his neck, which makes Zack tilt his neck, feeling his lips against his skin.

“Mm-!” Zack gasps feeling the sharp prick from Mallek’s fangs biting his neck.

Another hiss when he bites him again, he can feel Mallek’s smirk as the other continues to mark his neck, followed by gentle licks which causes a tickling sensation on Zack’s skin. Just then as they were about to get into, their both snapped back to reality by the ringing noise. There’s a pause between, as Mallek slightly pulls away from, his forehead pushing on Zack’s. They both chuckle, as Zack looks over to see his phone ringing, Mallek glances over, smirking as he then slowly looks back to his boyfriend.

“You gonna answer that? It’s not like you to ignore a phone call.” Mallek teases how nice Zack is, so polite and well mannered, but that was one of his positive traits.

“I really should-” Before he can even finish Mallek cuts him off with another kiss, attempting to make him focus on him. “M-mallek… Mallek, come on.” He says his name, between their kiss, as much he wanted to continue he should probably get that. But that was easier said than done.

He gently pushes Mallek back a little, and hops off the counter, and reaches for his phone. “Hey dude, how’s it going!” Zack answers with his usual cheery tone, a smile on his face when he hears the voice on the other end. It was one of his university friends.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. What’s up?”

His focus is on his friend now, as Mallek sighs under his breath, but then smirks as he walks over to Zack, he was going to test his limits with the other. Mallek lets Zack continue his conversation, as he wraps his arms around his waist, hugging from behind. Zack can feel his warm breath against the back of his neck, followed by the sensation of his lips on his skin. His eye twitches as he finds it difficult to keep focus.

“Y-yeah. I’ve started the assignment b-but… It’s a little more complicated than I thought…” He keeps having to pause and trips on his words when Mallek’s lips trail along down to his shoulder, once again feeling his bite.

He mouths the words ‘stop’ and ‘knock it off' but he couldn’t help but smile at the rather childish antics of Mallek who was usually so mature and reserved, but being alone with him and he was comfortable enough to behave like him. He very much enjoyed playing these games with Zack, wanting to see how long he would break before giving in, after all, he always won their little games.

“H-hey sorry, but could you call me bACK-” Zack’s sudden outburst is due to the fact when he feels Mallek’s hand slip under his shirt, his nails gently dragging along his stomach.

“N-nothing! I’m fine it was Noth-! Mmm…” A moan slips out as Mallek’s hand travels further down, below his waist, his cheeks flush a dark shade of blush as Mallek is grinning.

“Sorry, I gotta go! I’ll call you back in a bit.” Zack apologizes before abruptly cutting the call off, he places his phone back on the table, looks at Mallek, his face is mixed with annoyance and fluster.

“Not fair…” He says as Mallek just shows him a cheeky, toothy grin.

…

A little while later, the two are sitting at the table, two large boxes of pizza, one Hawaiian, and one double pepperoni. He had a soda can with Alternian text on it, and Zack had a tall glass of water. Mallek has freshly showered, dressed in one of Zack’s orange shirts, some dark blue shorts, and fluffy pink slippers, his glasses are back on. The pair were sitting opposite each other, enjoying their dinner, Mallek’s husktop on next to him, he wanted to check something and update a new program.

Zack was eating a slice, he had deep bite marks on his neck and shoulder, and if someone on the outside had X-ray vision they would see the other fresh marks hidden by his clothing. It didn’t escalate to anything further as Mallek was content with teasing Zack enough, he went to shower and change into clothes, and then the food arrived. These moments with his boyfriend were his and no one else, he didn’t have to worry about work, deadlines, and reports, and Zack didn’t have to worry about assignments and essays, these evenings between his work and Zack’s classes were their moments to enjoy.

“So is there anything you want me to get tomorrow, you can text me a list of stuff.” Zack asks as they had enough pizza for the rest of the night and possibly the morning, but they would need to get some actual items to make meals.

“Hmm. I’ll have a look around in a bit and give a list of stuff.” Mallek says as he wasn’t too sure until he checked their fridge and pantry.

“No worries.” Zack takes another mouthful of his slice.

Mallek pops open his can and takes a swig for his beverage. “Just let me know how much it costs, and I’ll send over half.”

[stovetuna]

Hi, I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season first of all! Second, if you’re feeling it, maybe Blind Date AU for Steve and Tony? Ty!!💖

PEACHY!! of course, darling, anything for you. Setting this in an amorphous MCU timeline again because I’m working on stretching my 616 writing muscles on another fic ;) 

- - - 

Steve knows it’s going to be a long night the moment he receives a text from Natasha that simply reads: Carbone. 1800. Wear the blue shirt.He’s tried—countless times, in fact—to dissuade her from doing this. It’s been a running joke between them for years, ever since that first time in the back of the C-130. 

Too scared? 

Too busy.

It’s not that he’s averse to the idea of being with someone. Far from it—he craves exactly that in ways he can’t articulate, not to Natasha, not to Sam, not to anyone. Sometimes, not even to himself. But the idea of dating, especially being set up on blind dates, makes something twist and sour in Steve’s stomach. The thought of being pushed into something despite his wishes because other people think it’s what he wants, or that dating is something expected of the unattached, is deeply upsetting. 

Plus, his life is complicated enough as it is. Adding an unsuspecting stranger to the mix would only complicate more. And how would he explain it to them, his life? How could he ask for understanding when what he does is so outside the scope of the average person’s day-to-day reality? How could he ask anyone to wait up for him, not knowing if he’d make it back to them alive? In what universe would that be fair to a partner? 

It’s not. That’s the point. Nor is it the point that he’s been nursing a crush on a certain someone on the team for the past year, a man so far out of his league it makes Steve’s head spin. That’s just background noise, at this point, an asterisk at the end of a sentence: Steve Rogers is not interested in dating.* 

*Unless your name happens to be Tony Stark.

Steve’s fingers hover over the phone screen, deliberating in his head how to respond to Nat’s text. The way she’s written it is different from her previous attempts at matchmaking. No so-and-so from such-and-such is nice, you should ask her out. I met this random guy during a raid yesterday, I got his number for you. Want it? This one’s come to him like a gift of flowers, beautifully arranged and packaged, leaving no way for him to bow out of it without coming across like an asshole. 

He shudders to imagine what Nat would have to text the person she’s trying to set him up with if he did: sorry, Captain America is a huge wuss. Feel free to order something to go, on me.

On the one hand, she means well. She knows Steve is lonely for companionship in ways his friends and the Avengers can’t satisfy. She might even know about his crush on Tony and this is her way of trying to help him past it. On the other hand, Nat is a notorious troll, and she could just be doing this to him for laughs. But it has been a long time since he’s gone on a date, even if he does hate the practice pretty much on the whole. One more for the sake of a stranger’s feelings won’t kill him. 

Fine, he texts back, but you’re my sparring partner for the next two weeks. 

Natasha’s response is so lightning fast it would make Thor dizzy.  

Worth it. 

Steve wears the blue shirt. He also goes to the effort of ironing his black slacks and polishing his dress shoes, because he knows Carbone’s reputation as the kind of place one goes to make an impression and/or be impressed. Tony talks about it all the time. “Oh my God, Steve, their spicy rigatone alla vodka is so good, it’s actually sinful,” he’d told him once. Steve had watched Tony’s eyes glaze over and his tongue slowly slide out to lave his bottom lip, obviously salivating at the thought of some random pasta dish, and it had taken just about everything in Steve’s power not to launch himself across the kitchen counter and chase Tony’s tongue with his. 

“I’m sure I’ll try it at some point,” he’d replied instead, pinching his thigh hard enough to dissuade his blood from flowing further south. 

At 4:30, Steve looks himself over in the full-length mirror in his bedroom. The black jacket seems overbearing for early summer, and he wonders if it’s worth keeping on. Should he bring it just in case? Is the tie too much? It feels like too much, especially after thinking about Tony and his tongue. Now he’s hot under the collar, about to go on a date with someone else. Damn it. Steve wrenches the black silk knot loose and pulls the whole thing off. It goes on the bed, along with the jacket. He unbuttons his shirt to the clavicle and rolls up the sleeves. (Tony has visibly admired his forearms enough times for Steve to make a deliberate habit of it.)

But Tony flirts with everyone, Steve reminds himself, and then he’s out the door. He opts to walk across town and down 12th Avenue, what should be a long walk along the Hudson shortened considerably by his long legs and enhanced speed. It’s one of those beautiful New York days, long, late May sunlight lingering in the clear blue sky even as Steve turns the corner onto Thompson Street at 5:45. It’s breezy but not chilly, warm but not stifling. People are everywhere, happy, flushed and bubbling over with spring fever. Even the hardened locals aren’t immune to it—Steve spots a grizzled bar owner just down the street who’s leaning against an old brownstone, face tipped up toward the sky, lips pulled tight in a barely contained smile. 

It reminds Steve distinctly of Tony, how his eyes crease deeply at the corners when he grins.

You’re supposed to be nervous about this date, Steve reminds himself as he opens the door to the restaurant. He’s immediately enveloped in dark tones of bluish green and the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra. He’s early, but the staff brings him through immediately to an intimate but decently large corner table in the back. A waiter, bald-headed but sporting an impressive mustache and wearing the hell out of a purple three-piece suit, pours Steve a glass of champagne and another for his date, who’s starting to cut it close, time-wise. 

At 5:56, Steve glances at his watch and takes a sip of water, opting to watch the bubbles in the champagne glass rise to the surface and pop instead of drinking it outright. At 6:08, the same waiter refills his water glass. They make small talk even as Steve fidgets under the tablecloth. In all of his gearing up for this blind date, the thought had never crossed his mind that the other person might be the one to duck out. 

Averse to dating as Steve is, he can’t say the thought of being stood up on a blind date doesn’t sting a little bit, even as it drives home his rationale for avoiding the entire practice in the first place. At least he’ll have ammunition against Natasha the next time she tries her hand at matchmaking. 

By 6:20, the back room is filled and noisy with other dinner guests, many of whom are also on dates and are doing a terrible job of pretending not to glance pityingly at Steve and the two untouched champagne glasses on his table. Steve sighs and shrugs at the waiter (his name is Duncan, Steve learned during Refill Number Three), who’s come by to refill his water glass again. How many does that make? Five? Six? Duncan glances at the empty seat across from Steve and shakes his head.

“It happens,” he says, genuine sympathy (but mercifully no pity) writ large across his middle-aged face. “In any case, you probably dodged a bullet. Want something a little stronger?”

Steve remembers telling Tony he’d try the spicy rigatoni alla vodka if he ever came here. Reservations to Carbone are hard to come by, and he should seize the opportunity while he can, even if it’s bittersweet. “Thanks. That’s okay. I think I’ll just—”

A man’s flustered voice appears suddenly from behind Duncan, cutting through the noise, words spilling out in a rush. Steve notices heads whipping around to gawk, bug-eyed, at whoever’s just appeared.

“God, I’m so sorry I’m late, usually I’m never late to this kind of thing but there was a malfunction with the—with the thing, and…I…uh…”

The man’s words trail off as Duncan steps aside to let him through to his seat. Steve is standing—when did he stand up?—and realizes with a jolt (and an unmistakable, overwhelming ka-thump of his heart) that he’s looking directly at Tony Stark, whose face has gone an endearingly bright shade of red, almost the same shade as the armor. 

“Steve?”

“Uh,” Steve is too distracted by the furious blush currently working its way past Tony’s pristine white shirt collar to respond at first. “Hi, Tony. Wanna, uh, have a seat?” Nailed it. 

“Sure…” Tony sounds skeptical. That’s fair. He’s probably already sussed out that this date wasn’t Steve’s idea. 

Duncan, to his credit, says nothing as he fills Tony’s water glass. But Steve doesn’t miss the warning look the waiter shoots him as Tony tips his head back for a drink, or the way Tony’s face goes slightly pale as he sets the glass back down on the table, chastised. 

Once they’re alone, the other diners seem to quickly get over the initial shock of seeing Iron Man and Captain America on a date together and go back to their own meals. The air in the room is fragrant with the smell of four-star Italian food, but Steve’s stomach is too tightly wound now to appreciate it. 

Tony breaks the silence. He always was braver than Steve gave him credit for. 

“So,” he says, “Going by your poleaxed expression I take it you weren’t expecting me.”

It’s not a question. Steve laughs hoarsely. “Yeah, you could say that.” More like you’re the last person I expected but I am so fucking happy you’re here. He doesn’t say it, but at least Tony looks more relaxed now. Smiling, they both take a sip of champagne simultaneously.

“D’you think Nat and Clint placed bets on whether or not one of us would cancel?” Steve asks. Tony laughs outright. Not for the first time, Steve watches Tony break out into a smile and wonders if the heat he feels is a blush or the fact that looking at Tony when he’s grinning like that is like looking at the sun—bright and dangerous and so unbelievably warm. Steve takes another drink of champagne to calm himself.

“Well, since they know you and I are so stubborn we’d both rather show up for a pre-arranged blind date at one of the most-booked restaurants in the city than flake, I’d say the bet’s based on whether or not we appear in the communal kitchen tomorrow morning together or separately.” 

Steve chokes on bubbles. Tony laughs again. 

“Hickies optional, obviously,” he says gamely, winking at Steve, whose shoulders are creeping up toward his ears. “We could just muss ourselves up before we get home and they’d never know the difference.” 

“Tony, they’re literally professional spies. Of course they’d know.” 

“I have my ways, Cap. Do not doubt my ways.”

“I don’t doubt your ways, Tony,” Steve manages from behind the sudden tightness in his throat, “But we’re talking about Natasha Romanoff.”

“You mean the woman who almost gave you a hard-on when she kissed you on an escalator in D.C.?” 

Tony is still laughing gleefully (while Steve’s burning face is still buried in his hands) when Duncan arrives with two oversized menus. Steve waves at Tony when he offers to order for them, too embarrassed at having learned that Tony knows about the D.C. incident to speak for himself, at least for the moment. Besides, Tony knows everything he likes. (Well, almost everything.) 

They breeze past awkward and straight into comfortable after that. Tony apologizes for being late again and Steve shuts him up with bread. 

“Eat this and you can work it off with me later.” 

Tony waggles his eyebrows at him and says, “Promise, Cap?” with a gleam in his eye that Steve resolutely does not read into.

“In the gym, Tony.”

The food is delicious and borderline excessive, coming in wave after wave along with wine and bread and cheese and free courses compliments of the chef, and by the second hour of their meal even Steve’s increased metabolism is starting to feel sluggish. Of course, that’s when Duncan places a massive, beautiful, steaming bowl of rigatoni alla vodka on their table. The smell of it alone is enough to rouse him. 

“Holy shit,” Steve whispers as he ducks his head over the bowl to catch a bigger whiff of the red pepper-and-cream sauce, just loud enough he knows Tony will hear him. The other man giggles. It’s too fucking cute. Steve has to remind himself for the millionth time that this is not actually a date, because the words are right on the tip of his tongue.

“I told you!”

“Yeah, you did,” Steve answers, smiling at Tony as warmly and happily as he feels. This isn’t a real date, but he’s still having a fantastic dinner with his best friend and crush, so it’s a fun, memorable night for him either way. Steve dishes a heaping spoonful of rich, glossy pasta onto Tony’s plate first, too preoccupied to notice Tony glancing at his mouth before he takes another drink of light red wine (the price of which Duncan didn’t mention and at this point Steve doesn’t want to know). 

“I like the look you’ve got going on, by the way. Very devil-may-care. How long did it take you to decide against the jacket and tie?” Tony asks once Steve’s finished doling out pasta for himself. God, it’s so easy to laugh with Tony. The man is hilarious, sure, but little things like that—things that only Tony would think to ask Steve because they know each other so well and he likes making fun of Steve’s idiosyncrasies, likes making Steve loosen up and laugh at himself—make Steve feel like the champagne he drank earlier: bubbly, light, happy. 

He could spend five, six, ten more hours at this table. He could spend all of his time with Tony Stark and it still wouldn’t be enough. But there is only so much of himself and his time Tony seems willing to give, romantically or otherwise, and Steve’s made his peace with that. Mostly. 

It does help that Tony seems willing to give Steve a lot of his time anyways.

And no one—not even Tony—will know if Steve indulges himself by pretending, if only for a minute or two, that actually is a date.

“Only a few seconds. Natasha did the lion’s share of the work picking the shirt out for me,” Steve replies, blowing gently on his forkful of pasta, saliva pooling in the back of his mouth as he watches the steam trail off it before taking a bite. “Why, do you think I should have kept th—oh my god,” he groans mid-sentence, eyes rolling up into his head. Chewing slowly, Steve claps a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd moan that threatens to escape him as bold, decadent flavors burst on his tongue. Tony was right—this stuff is sinful. 

Steve’s so wrapped up in the food he’s eating that he almost, almost misses Tony muttering Jesus under his breath. It doesn’t sound embarrassed or insulted. When he opens his eyes, Steve finds Tony watching him so avidly, it’s hard to notice anything else other than the way the man’s pupils have dilated considerably and is leaning forward, almost over the bowl. 

Tony licks his lips. Steve tries hard not to stare. 

“Sorry,” he says with a chuckle in an attempt to diffuse tension, “but that stuff is ridiculously good.” Steve’s really glad he didn’t wear the tie now, given how hot under the collar he feels all of a sudden. Tony’s looked at him a lot of ways, but never like that—like the only thing stopping him from launching himself across the table at Steve is the table, itself. “I can see why you’re always raving about it.” 

“Steve,” Tony says. He hasn’t touched his pasta. The fork is just kind of there in his hand, like he’s forgotten he’s even holding it. Steve looks at him again. 

“What? Did I get some on my face?” he asks, retrieving his napkin and wiping his mouth with it. Tony makes a rough, strangled sound in the back of his throat and, when drowning it with wine doesn’t help, puts his fork all the way down on the table and buries his face in his hands. 

“I can’t do this,” Tony whines. The conversations happening around them are loud, but not so loud Steve doesn’t hear him say it. The words cut him like a cold knife sharply through the middle. His head feels woozy, and not in the airy fun way it should be after drinking good wine for two and a half hours. How did things end up here so quickly? A minute ago Steve was having a religious experience and now Tony face is ashen and drawn. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Oh god,” Tony groans, “please, do not apologize. It’s me. It’s very much me.” 

This seems like a fork-down conversation. Steve places his on the table and tries not to glance longingly at the pasta on his plate. Steve knows when Tony is gathering himself to speak, which is exactly what’s happening now, so he waits  and doesn’t eat. He does take a drink, though. That much feels appropriate.

“Just so I’ve got it right,” Tony finally says after an unbearably quiet moment, a palm pressed against his own forehead, “you definitely had zero input vis à vis this whole blind date setup?” 

He’s deliberately not looking at Steve when he asks it. If Steve could put a word to his expression, he’d say Tony looks downright despondent at the idea, even if they’d already established earlier that yes, this thing was entirely Nat’s idea because she’s an unrepentant troll. 

The dissonance doesn’t make sense. But it does put hope in Steve’s heart where there wasn’t any before. 

“I didn’t,” he says, watching Tony’s face intently. He knows it so well at this point, he can tell when Tony’s smile is fake or real, when he’s wounded and won’t admit it, when he’s tired but can’t sleep. So Steve notices all too easily when the corner of Tony’s mouth dips down, a fraction of an inch of a frown, before he recovers with a laugh and claps his hands. 

“All good then,” Tony chuckles, but he won’t look Steve in the eye anymore. He picks up his fork and starts to tuck in, chewing so fast it’s like he’s racing toward a finish line Steve can’t see and doesn’t know how to keep from approaching, except—

“Why,” Steve blurts out, stopping Tony mid-chew, “were you hoping I did?” 

Tony’s eyes fly open but are heavily guarded when he looks back at Steve from across the table. No take-backs, Steve tells himself. 

Tony puts down his fork again. 

“What if I did?” he counters. 

“You can’t answer my question with a question, Tony,” Steve says, smirking when Tony’s expression flickers. 

“Watch me.”

“I am.” 

“Steve.”

“Tony.”

Tony huffs. Before he can cross his arms defensively, before either of them can think another thought, Steve reaches out with both hands, pulls Tony forward by the front of his too-nice shirt and kisses him, fast and firm and warm. The kiss is a point being made more than anything else, but a point nonetheless. 

Tony’s lips are yielding and taste faintly of wine and carpaccio piemontese. Kissing him feels more right than Steve could have imagined (and he’d imagined a lot, elaborately and often). One peck and he knows without a doubt he could kiss Tony for hours. But that’s all besides the point. The point is now, Tony knows. 

Before he can pull away and apologize (again) for his behavior, Steve feels more than hears Tony sigh against his lips. Then Tony tilts his head a fraction and suddenly Steve’s the one being kissed. Thoughts of anything alla vodka fly out of his head in a rush as Tony licks the closed seam of his lips and tongues him deep and slow when they open. Steve’s fingers are still grasping the front of the Tony’s shirt; he knows he should release him and stop this while things are still relatively PG. Instead Tony nibbles on his bottom lip and Steve releases that lewd moan he’d held back a few minutes ago right into Tony’s mouth. 

Steve has just enough brainpower left to remember that 1) they’re surrounded by onlookers, and 2) if they keep going like this, Duncan’s going to have to throw them out. Would that really be such a bad thing, his lizard brain supplies, unhelpfully. 

Decided, Steve lets go of Tony’s shirt with a gasp. They both fall back into their chairs with a whoosh. Between them, the steam rising off the rigatoni alla vodka swirls, disturbed by the sudden breeze, then continues curling lightly upwards like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Like Steve’s entire life wasn’t just irrevocably changed, upended, by a single kiss. 

Picking up his fork, Steve licks the taste of Tony from his lips as he looks across the table at his date and takes another bite of pasta. Tony looks back. He looks hungry. 

“What did I tell you,” Tony says when Steve moans softly again. This time, he doesn’t miss the way Tony stares lingeringly at his mouth like he wants another taste. “Sinful.”

- - -

Send me an AU prompt! 

[siverwrites]

Press Start Letter

AO3: Siver

There are some pretty big groups here, so there’s just a mix of things I like and prompts if you want them. As long as the DNWs are avoided it’s all good. Really can’t go wrong taking anything from my Likes list. A lot of found family vibes happening in this batch so anything in that vein in particular is great.

All requests are for fic or art. Art: Interactions of some sort: emoting at each other, talking, sharing some activity, taking a walk, hugs are always welcome, soft things, whatever suits the pair/group

Likes: fluff, hurt/comfort, comfort, missing scenes, friendships, long-term friendships, close relationships of any sort whether romantic or platonic, familial bonds, found family, sickfic, AUs, fandom crossovers or fusions, angst with a happy end, bonding, cuddling/hugs/holding, banter, mutual care and support, emotional bonding, loyalty, pre-canon, post-canon, reuniting, slice of life

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, virus things

Thank you!

Ghost Trick

Group: Alma/Cabanela Group: Alma/Jowd Group: Alma/Jowd & Cabanela Group: Alma/Jowd/Cabanela Group: Cabanela/Jowd Group: Cabanela & Pigeon Man Alma Cabanela Jowd Missile Sissel Group: Emma & Pigeon Man: What even happens here? Just such a bizarre and unexpected combo it had to happen.

I love this game, its characters and pretty much everything about it, so whatever you want to do will be great I am sure. New timeline mysteries and dealing with missing memories are always welcome where it makes sense. Alternate timelines and what-ifs are cool to explore. Fluff, comfort, family found or otherwise and friendships are always a go. Sissel and Missile involvements and tricks are always good. Any combination of these characters is more than welcome too! 

I only request that for various configurations of Alma, Jowd and Cabanela there is no infidelity. If it’s Cabanela/Jowd or Cabanela/Alma please let the third party be absent for whatever reason or dead... if a Cabanela/Jowd situation in game or a no reset timeline. But Alma’s absence should still be felt. Otherwise I love the trio so much and always love to see more.

Trails in the Sky

Group: Cassius Bright & Estelle Bright & Joshua Bright & Renne Bright: Family family family! Renne adjusting to a new life with them .

Group: Celeste D. Auslese & Renne Hayworth: What might they discuss in the Hermit’s Garden? What might Renne have to ask her?

Group: Estelle Bright & Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese & Tita Russell: Sisters and best friend time!

Group: Julia Schwarz & Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese: Mooore sister times

Group: Kloe Rinz & Celeste D. Auslese: Her ancestor... Kloe must have so many questions...

Group: Kloe Rinz | Klaudia von Auslese & Olivier Lenheim | Olivert Reise Arnor: Royals unite! They have a good allyship now going now it’d be cool to see them interact more

Group: Mayor Maybelle/Lila: they’re just sweet okay. Let Maybelle rest. Lila, also rest. Go on a vacation you two

Group: Olivier Lenheim | Olivert Reise Arnor & Mueller Vander: Exasperated but oh so caring Mueller always...

Group: Olivier Lenheim/Mueller Vander: Same as above but more romantic

Group: Ries Argent/Kevin Graham: Affectionate exasperation

Olivier Lenheim | Olivert Reise Arnor: Just. Olivier. 

Missing scenes, scene extensions, travel along the roads, airship travel times, etc. Post Sky also welcome and at some points necessary. Ample opportunity for anything in the Garden in 3rd. I love these characters, their world, and their relationships.

Trails from Zero/Trails to Azure

Alex Dudley Elie MacDowell KeA Lloyd Bannings Randy Orlando Sergei Lou Tio Plato Zeit Group: Rixia Mao/Ilya Platiere Group: Sonya Baelz & Sergei Lou

These games hit my found family buttons hard. Anything portraying some kind of familial relationship among these characters is awesome. I love our SSS family (Dudley included, you’re an honorary part too, just the way it is). Any combination of these characters is more than welcome!

KeA winning Dudley over because no one can resist her? Always down for KeA and “Uncle” Sergei too. Randy and Tio sibling like times? An outing for our core four, Lloyd, Elie, Tio and Randy, possibly dragging Sergei with for a change? Dudley and Lloyd connecting over something whether the past with Guy or something else entirely? Zeit in any capacity is a very good boy. Sky’s the limit.

Please no shipping aside from the Rixia/Ilya.

Dragon Quest XI

Group: Marutina | Jade & Rou | Rab Group: Sena | Serena & Veronica Group: Sylvia | Sylvando & Dave Group: Sylvia | Sylvando & Graig | Hendrik Marutina | Jade Sylvia | Sylvando

While I wish there were a few more dynamics among the party outside of certain pairs I do love what there is and down for more.

I’d be interested in seeing more Jade and Rab grandfather adopted granddaughter moments. Could be something during the journey or something before they joined the party. Or something after it’s all over. Jade can return to her father in Heliodor but that’s a bond that won’t break.

Any kind of sister time for Serena and Veronica at any time. Can go angsty given Veronica’s situation as well.

I didn’t give Dave a lot of attention until playing the definitive edition and I loved how he was there for Sylv and was able to snap him out of his gloom. More interactions and them supporting each other would be great. Anything during the parade gathering is also great, or Dave’s search for him and Sylv’s recovery.

I love Hendrik and Sylvando’s dynamic. They have that shared history but they’re so different and Hendrik’s reactions are always a joy. But what are some other ways they can support each other?

Game did Jade dirty. Let her shine. Maybe overly ambitious but an AU where she kicks Booga’s ass and liberates Octagonia herself would be cool and she can look after it in a similar fashion to the Last Bastion. But overall anyway, just some attention for Jade.

Just. Sylvando. I love him. Sylv being Sylv can’t go wrong.

Bug Fables

Group: Elizant II & Leif Group: Kabbu & Vi & Leif Group: Prof. Honeycomb & Doctor H.B. Kabbu Leif Vi

My new love and I love the group dynamics! Party fun times while they’re travelling would be good. Really interested in more with Leif’s situation because that is a Lot and open to more introspection and dealing--Kabbu support go? Attempted Vi support go?

There’s also an interesting connection between Elizant II and Leif I’d be interested in seeing more. Leif’s out of time but holds memories of Elizant I. Elizant II is a more direct connection he’s otherwise lacking and it’s nice to see how his opinion of her shifts and grows.

Professor Honeycomb and Doctor H.B.: older cranky lady bees in science! I have no specific ideas, but exploring more of their rivalry would be fun. Hawk and long-suffering Crow involvement are A-okay too.

Final Fantasy VI

Cyan Celes Group: Edgar Roni Figaro & Macías "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro Relm Arrowny

Any combination of any of these tags. Any kind of characters interaction among the party is great. Celes and Relm. Attempted reconciliation between Celes and Cyan. Edgar and Sabin having some sort of interaction with the spunky Relm--she probably trolling them in some way no doubt. Or perhaps something sweeter. Etc

Edgar & Sabin: Moments visiting Figaro during their journey. Or post-game trying to bond again and get to know each other after Sabin’s long absence without doom hanging over their heads. Something to do with or some fallout from the whole Gerad situation?

Celes: Her thoughts on having to sing at the opera? Or what she might be doing post-game. More exploration of her thoughts and feelings after she wakes up on the island? So much room for more expansion on Celes moments. Travelling with Sabin after finding him in the World of Ruin?

Relm: Lean on the magic of her paintings? Or post-game Relm dealing with the loss her powers and/or just trying to live normally again after all that?

Mutazione

Group: Bopek & Jell-A Group: Dennis & Nonno Group: Kai & Karoo Group: Kai & Semenya Group: Miu & Yoké Group: Nonno & Spike Group: Spike/Claire Group: Yoké & Claire Group: Yoké & Karoo Miu Yoké 

I don’t have any specific ideas for Mutazione but all these groups are cool. I enjoyed playing this game so much I’d love to dive back into this world. Leaning hard on its warmth, care and found family is most welcome. And plants! And music! I’m particularly fond of Yoké, but as said these are all great pairs and characters. 

Pyre

Group: Volfred Sandalwood & Ti'zo Group: Volfred Sandalwood/Tariq | The Lone Minstrel Volfred Sandalwood Ti’Zo

Found family joys. Daily activities while they travel? Wagon shenanigans. Post Peaceful revolution activities? Any combo here is great. Soft moments in configurations of Volfred, Tariq and Oralech, pre, post or in-game.   Snakes doing snake things. Imps doing imp things.

Volfred Sandalwood & Ti'zo: Tree and Imp, Tree and Imp! And who knew each other before so something relating to that would be cool. But honestly tree and imp...

Volfred Sandalwood/Tariq | The Lone Minstrel: Something gentle for the tree and the moon who somehow fell for him, any time period

[thatbennybee]

Branch's Bunker Redux

“The sun crept over the bushes and plants that led up to a wooden signpost that read “Branch” and nothing else. Simple, plain, and to the point. The mailbox that accompanied it, however, was covered in cutesy paintings and glitter.”

Text from my fanfiction, Trail Mix! I drew art for it as you read!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53349661/chapters/135020587

[glitzywisps]

Lights in the Trees

Dennor week, day 1: Magic

Human au, implied historical au 

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733899

Mathias usually wasn't one to heed folklore or listen to the warnings old legends told. He believed that it was all hogwash, meant to scare children into having manners and staying out of the woods. That is until he found himself lost in said woods, he had just wanted to take a shortcut from the city back home to his village and now he could no longer truly tell which way was left and which was right. Looking around and constantly second-guessing what those shadows truly were, each distant sound setting off an anxious beat in his chest. Even if it was a normal animal and not something supernatural, he was still just as afraid. It was moments like this that he wished he were home, eating his mother's stew and scaring his younger siblings with stories of trolls and ghosts, anywhere but where he was being chased by his own paranoia.

Speaking of ghosts, Mathias tensed as he saw a hazy blue and green glow deep within the dark and twisted branches around him. He had heard of Wil'O the Wisp before, and how they either lead to your destiny, or to your death. Two varying fates, he supposed, but there weren't many other options when you're lost in a pitch black forest. Mathias stumbled through the trees and undergrowth, trying hard to be quiet but he couldn't even see the moon, let alone his feet. All that he could see was the dark outlines of looming trees and movement in his peripheral vision. He would rather follow a wisp that gave off some form of light than continue wandering aimlessly through this dreadful and dark forest.

As he got closer, he noticed that these were definitely not wisps or ghosts. The colored light appeared to be more of a mist mixed in with clouds of glowing dust, shifting into different animals and such, moving through the air. Mathias followed as it swirled into a small bunny, hopping through the air.

"Oh wow..." He gasped, watching as other creatures appeared in a variety of colors, each moving in the same direction. Following their own trail of lights that almost resembled the Aurora Borealis. Mesmerized, he no longer worried about making any sound instead, just enjoying the lights and mist. He watched in awe as a tiny purple dragon flew around his finger as he held it out to the creature. Each animal had its own unique shape, but all were transparent, smoky and heading in the same direction. Before he realized it, he was stepping into a perfectly circular clearing, surprised to see someone sitting in the center. They were reading from a book, speaking in a soft but deep voice. The mist swirled around them, blowing their hair slightly. Mathias went to step towards the figure, but they must've heard him as they tensed and slammed the book shut.

"What are you doing here?" He stood and turned around, holding the book to his chest.

"I-I was lost, and I saw the lights-" 

"I don't care. You shouldn't be here."

"Are you a witch?" Mathias blurted.                                                                                                

“No, I’m just here playing with lights,” he responded sarcastically. Mathias chuckled a bit and nodded.

“Okay, Okay, I understand… Sorry for interrupting you, but could you at least help me get back to the village?” The other man sighed softly and nodded.

“But it will cost you,” the witch had already started walking to the edge of the clearing, tucking his book into his bag.

“How much?”

“You’ll find out. Now come on.” 

The Dane caught up with the other man, eyeing him curiously before he asked, “What’s your name? I’m Mathias!”

“You can call me Lukas…” Lukas glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. Mathias offered him a soft smile, nodding a bit. Relaxing, the witch slowed his pace and used the next question, “Why were you in the woods at night?”

“I just wanted to get home faster, I thought going this way would at least get me home before dark,” he rubbed the back of his neck, giving an awkward smile, “Must’ve taken a wrong turn. So what was that magic stuff you were doing?” 

“Light illusions. I haven’t been able to quite get regular ones right, so I’ve been practicing with light…”

“They were beautiful…” 

Lukas blushed softly and murmured a thank you, smiling the tiniest bit. An idea struck him and he turned to Mathias, opening his palm and whispering something. A bright and warm orb appeared, casting a purple light upon them as Lukas lifted the orb into the air. With a few more whispered words he flicked his wrist and the orb split into many more forming a long line ahead of them. Mathias watched in amazement, a small laugh leaving him.

“That’s so incredible!” Mathias laughed some more, reaching up to touch one. Blinking in surprise when his hand simply went through it.

“To light our path,” Lukas said with a shrug. They followed the orbs for what felt like a few hours, quietly talking with each other. Mathias was disappointed to see the normal lights of his village in the distance, having enjoyed his walk with Lukas and hearing the other explain confusing things like different magics and studies. The Dane shot Lukas a confused look when he had stopped walking.

“This is where I stop.” He pulled the hood of his cloak up, giving Mathias a nod.

“Will I get to see you again?”

“If you’d like…”

“And what’s my cost for you walking me home?” Mathias asked, slightly nervous for the answer. Lukas thought for a moment then crossed his arms, a sudden burst of subtle confidence filling him.

“A kiss.” 

Mathias flushed, “A kiss? Just that?”

Lukas nodded, his own cheeks dusting with color. Grinning, Mathias stepped closer to him and cupped his face with one hand, carefully drawing their lips closer. The witch was the one who finally pressed them together, kissing him softly. For Mathias, the kiss ended too soon and Lukas was stepping back.

“Meet me here tomorrow at sunset. Don’t be late,” Lukas told him, patting his chest before turning and walking back the way he came. Mathias could only nod quickly, watching him go, his chest feeling warm even as the purple lights disappeared...

[lunaraen]

July 13: Supernatural AU

The competitor village is cold, icy, filled with people used to killing each other, and it's starting to wear on Jesse.

It doesn't help that almost everything here seems dead, the ground nothing more than sheets of ice and patches of hardened snow over dry dirt and the occasional dead tuft of grass. Nothing here reaches out to speak to her, nothing responds when she mentally prods at it, and the air of misery mixed with fermented dread is really beginning to drag.

(There is, also, still the fresh memory of watching her friends get crushed to death on loop in the back of her mind, temporary death or not. She still remembers seeing them die, watching their blood splatter the ground and armor, seeing it on her hands.

That's a bit of a drag too.)

The small talk is likely for Nell's own benefit as much as it is Jesse's, given that Nell's the one responsible for the gruesome temporary deaths.

"So, what do you think of Em?"

"She's a literal troll. I don't think there's anything I can add to that."

Jesse does her best not to judge when it comes to other species, not beyond knowing the warning signs and how and when to be respectful, because it's not fair and most of the time the stereotypes aren't very accurate to begin with. She's never liked anyone trying to use them to judge her; at best satyrs are seen as party animals and at worst, just animals.

So all judging aside, Em?

Well, Jesse doesn't know too many trolls, hasn't even seen that many beyond Aiden, but Em's the biggest one she's seen yet, at least three heads taller than Jesse and roughly the size of Axel. Where Axel's all wood and leaves, though, Em's all rock, her hide as hard and thick as stone and her tusks as sharp as swords, as long as Jesse's arm.

They might actually be made of steel for all she knows.

Em's certainly the most intimidating member of her team, and far more annoyed at Jesse than Nell seems to be about the "elimination" of one of her own teammates.

(Not because somebody died, because apparently that's commonplace enough here, but because Em thought that was her last good team member.)

The one weakness Jesse can find, if that, is that Em's been sticking to the shade, but how much sunlight affects trolls varies from one to the next and it might just be that it's easy for Em to overheat with a body that looks like carved stone.

Nell either doesn't notice Jesse's wandering attention or doesn't care, shrugging even as she chuckles.

"Hah, fair enough."

The small talk meanders from there, to how long Nell's been here, Nell apparently being one of the newest competitors but having been here for longer than she can keep track of, and if life is like this all the time for the competitors, which it is.

Still, Jesse gets the wheat she needs and gets to make it into bread immediately after, so it's one less imminent concern.

There's something to be said for how Jesse finds the "epic loafage" bit of the entire encounter to be the weirdest part, but it's been a long... however long it's been since they all last slept, before Petra ran into Crown Mesa's world.

And then Nell decides to go and top it.

"Thanks, I owe you." Hiding the bread won't be hard, since Jesse won't have to go too far to get back to the guarded portal.

Still, it's hard not to glance over her shoulder, but if she's learned anything, it's that looking suspicious is the best way to get caught.

"Hey, it's the least I can do for you, after..." Nell trails off before she shrugs, smile faltering before she grins. "If you ever really want to make it up to me, though..."

She points at her fangs.

Jesse stares, Nell's expression not changing, and it takes an almost embarrassingly long pause to realize what she means.

With how Nell acts, Jesse would almost expect her to be a selkie, or a kappa, or something more water related. Goes to show how accurate the stereotypes are, but Jesse can't quite remember the name of Nell's kind. It's some kind of vampire, her fangs and pale skin giving that away, but the sunlight doesn't seem to bother her. That might have something to do with what kind of vampire she is, her hoofed feet not typically the norm.

(Not that Jesse's saying that's a bad thing; she likes her hooves too, and it is nice to meet someone else with them, satyr or not.)

But a vampire's a vampire, and they can be lovely people but back home they don't just randomly ask people they've just met to feed them their own blood.

"What? No!" However, that's rude, and Jesse is also all alone with a vampire in a place the gladiators aren't watching closely, so Jesse's quick to smile and smooth out her tone. "I'm sorry, but no thanks. I... kind of need all my blood."

"Nah, it's cool. I told you it was up to you." Nell shrugs again, hand moving to wave her off. "I sorta forget how weird it is; everybody here's kind of used to it. They don't like really giving us food here, so if your teammate's hungry, you just help them out."

Well, that's horrifying. For everyone involved, by the sounds of it.

"Isn't blood bonding kind of an issue?"

"Not really. It's useful for helping the team get along, and respawn seems like it gets rid of all those effects so there's no way to worry about somebody who's been fed on being controlled by whoever bit them..." Her voice softens as she trails off, and Nell pauses, rubbing the back of her neck. "...but you're not planning on dying."

Jesse chooses to ignore that they're also not on the same team, hoping that Nell's half as trustworthy as she seems and wouldn't plan something underhanded, and instead shrugs.

"Who does?"

"Nobody, but, well... we all kind of expect it, at this point. Nobody here's really a Tim, y'know?"

Right, Tim.

That's another weird thing about this place Jesse doesn't get.

She hasn't really seen him yet, outside of all the posters plastered around the village portraying an elf with sharp teeth and bright eyes, but given how many times she's already heard about him, he must be a big deal.

(And Jesse's maybe still a bit shaken up about how Nell just casually asked for her blood.)

"Uh, yeah, sure."

[bookwormandbandersnatch]

Self-Care: Guttersnipe Edition

On a whim, I thought I’d Google suggestions on self-care.

These are all fine and dandy, but to me, they speak more to an overworked mom or a stressed-out career woman than someone who lives with mental illness and/or struggles with money. (I stress the feminine pronoun because I imagine such advice for men reads more like, “Suck it up, Tinkerbell--life isn’t fair.”) I don’t knock Cassie of Wholefully (the top result in my search)--she seems like a nice lady who has her shit together. But what about for those of us who don’t always feel like we’re worth the carbon we’re made of? Can a manicure really bring us back from that?

In my experience, not really. When you have a mental illness, you get to do your normal routine with a brain that might be trying to kill you if it’s feeling particularly morose one day. I’ve had to create my own self-care through trial and error, as I would caution anyone else to do. But this is what has worked for me:

1. Take your damn meds. It sounds like a no-brainer, but if you get into a funk, the last thing you want to think about is medicating yourself, because really, what’s the point? Why are you even here?  That’s bullshit, and on some level, you know it. You have to figure out a way to take them when you’re supposed to, no missing doses--and that might mean having to outsmart yourself a bit.

Start with getting a pill case you know you’ll love and use regularly. This one is mine:

To me, the ones I got from the drug store just looked so--well, clinical. They made me resent the need to take medication at all, like I was some kind of freak instead of someone living with a statistically average, manageable illness. This cute little box gave me agency over something I need to in order to be a functional human. I set an alarm on my phone to remind/annoy the ever-loving hell out of me whenever it’s time for my next dose. The first dose of the morning is usually the hardest, and you have to plan for that. Keep them by your bed with a glass of water so you can take them first thing. Do you have to take them with food? Keep a snack nearby: trail mix. Crackers. A banana. Anything, as long as it gets those meds in your body at the right time.

2. Move. Anything goes. It’s way too easy to fall into a vegetative state. After my friend committed suicide, it was all I could do to get out of bed in the morning. Count the steps between where you’re resting and the bathroom or the fridge, or wherever else you might go in your house. Try to make yourself move a little further each time. (A pedometer app is a good way to keep track and help nudge you forward.) Even if all you can manage is just using the bathroom and sitting back down again, or you can’t make it past your mailbox, you’re still moving.

On days when I feel particularly sedentary, I kept my mind out of the blackness with audiobooks (RBdigital is a great app), crocheting, and any strategic puzzle apps I could get my dirty little hands on. Little movements, little thoughts. As long as I could occupy myself and not just stare at the wall, I was still me.

3. Clean something. When you’re really in the dark, you almost become immune to the messiness of your space. You don’t even really notice that bad smell coming from somewhere in your kitchen. Your home is a reflection of your soul, but it doesn’t matter because your soul sucks anyway. Hey now, that’s no way to treat yourself. Hitler was one of the worst people in human history, so why should he have gotten a clean toilet and not you? 

If there’s a bad smell in your house, just getting rid of the source can make a world of difference. Take out the trash (at least put it on the back steps if you can’t make it to the curb). Wash some dishes. For me, some of the ickiest, most menial tasks are more satisfying when I’m depressed--it’s almost cathartic when I sanitize the litter boxes or vacuum behind the dryer. (Seriously, take care of that. That shit is a fire hazard.) I got my best advice from Clean My Space--a show that teaches people who hate to clean how to clean beautifully.

4. If you can smell yourself, hit the showers (or at least fake it). Personal hygiene falls away when you’re at the bottom of a depression well. You repulse yourself, but you don’t care enough to get cleaned up, even if you have enough layers of dirt to carbon-dated. It’s okay to start small. Can’t manage brushing your teeth? A good mouthwash will take the worst of the fur out of your mouth. Too tired to wash your hair? There are plenty of dry shampoos on the market, though baby powder works in a pinch. No energy to shower? Go for baby wipes--they feel better warmed up in the microwave (just make sure there’s no metal in the packaging). Once you feel good enough to fully wash off the grime, soaps or body wash with citrus, mint or vetiver are a great pick-me-up. And of course, put on clean clothes (or at least the cleanest things you have until you can do laundry). I feel better after I shave, but if you’re au naturel or just can’t pick up a razor, a dab of hair conditioner can soften your floof AND your skin. Bonus!

5. Find a reason to live... It doesn’t have to be anything earth-shaking. Maybe you haven’t been to the Bahamas yet. Maybe you love your parents, or your cats, or your plants. Maybe you still haven’t tried every Ben and Jerry flavor. Maybe you’re waiting on the next season of Game of Thrones. Maybe you just want to say a quiet “fuck you” to the internet trolls who say the world would be better off without you in it. Whatever it is, find it and hang onto it. If it doesn’t work anymore, change it. The point is that it’s yours and it’s what you need to keep going.

6. ...but have a plan for when you don’t. This one is best addressed when you’re not in darkness, and it requires both trust and courage. We scare ourselves when we have thoughts of suicide, and I think we hesitate to tell people because we don’t want to scare or upset them. My system for self-preservation involves a few trusted individuals and code words. It’s best to have more than one person in your network, so if for whatever reason they can’t get to their phone, there’s always someone else you can talk to. The code allows you to reach out when you’re in distress without saying the words you dread using (at least not when initiating contact). Emojis you never use are also helpful here. As long as everyone in the know understands it, you’re golden. Just for example:

Turtle toes = I’m hanging onto my sanity by my fingernails and I’m really afraid I might hurt myself. Call me now! Daffodil = I have someone with me. I’m safe now. [Rice ball emoji] + [Address of current location] = I checked myself into the hospital. Can you please call my parents in case they take my phone?

Taking care of your mental health is a serious issue, and no one should have to dance around it to get the help they need. But until that day comes, you might as well make up your own steps.

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

Avec Nocturne Ch. 2

Summary: AU A little thing called the flu forced him to call out sick for days. What he didn’t bargain for was his workplace hiring a girl to spin the tracks while he was out. He’s pissed off but why’s he thinking random thoughts about her?

Rating: PG-13 (Language, Strip Club setting, Flirting, Mentions of the flu)

Characters: DJ!Chanyeol x Kit OC, featuring appearances of OT12 members

Notes: This is a spin-off (no pun intended!) series of Unwind written by @xiubaek13 and @oh-beyond. (Written with their blessing – thank you!) I own nothing except for my own OC and the content written here. (I recommend reading Unwind first to get a better understanding of the story’s universe.) I do not claim to be an expert in DJ-ing. Banner created by me. Absolutely no reposting anywhere else as your own!

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

“Excuse meeeeee?” a male voice called out as the owner rapped on the door repeatedly. 

Kit jerked her head up from putting songs into her playlist and glanced over at the door, leaning back to get a better look at the young man standing outside. She slid her headphones down and cracked open the door to the booth. “Yeah can I help you?”

The blonde crossed his arms over his chest and shot her a suspicious look. “You’re not Chanyeol – why are you in the DJ booth?”

“I’m his backup – he’s sick apparently,” Kit replied as she gripped her headphones. “Sorry, are you his boyfriend or something?”

The blonde blinked, recoiling at her comment in shock, while another young man howled in laughter as he stood behind the bar. Kit peered over in the direction where the laugh came from, watching as the young man cackled, hand slapping the counter.

“Oh God! Imagine that! Tao as Chanyeol’s boyfriend? Haha!” the bartender whooped, wiping tears from his eyes.

The blonde whipped his head around and scowled at the bartender, teeth gritted. “Shut up Sehun.”

“That was too funny noona!” Sehun said before he reached under the bar for something. He straightened up and walked around the counter with a cold water bottle in hand, holding it out to Kit. “Lay said you were talented but he never said you were funny and savage!”

A confused wisp of a smile crossed her lips as she took the water bottle and ducked her head to say thank you.

“How does Lay-ge know you?” Tao asked as he tilted his head. “I’ve never seen you around here.”

“Lay didn’t tell you?” Kit snorted as she uncapped the water. “I had to make up a mix on the spot for him to dance to, so your bosses could see me in action. Just started…couple hours ago? So, I figured Sehun’s the bartender and you –”

“I dance,” Tao cut in. “Also do special martial arts demonstrations in my performances. How long are you here for?”

“Until Chanyeol recovers,” another young man replied, placing a hand on Tao’s shoulder. “Tao, you should get backstage. Sehun, I think some patrons are headed your way.”

Tao sighed as he sauntered off in the direction of the stage and Sehun pouted before slipping behind the bar, a smile fixed in place as the customers approached the counter. The other young man walked up to the entrance of the booth and rested a hand on the frame.

“You’ll have to excuse Tao – he’s used to seeing a bunch of guys working here, not a young woman doing something other than drooling over him and the other dancers,” the man said, “I’m D.O. by the way, and you must be Kit. Lay must have really liked your work if he couldn’t stop talking about the song he danced to.”

Kit nodded as she put the water bottle down before shaking hands with D.O. “Nice to meet you too – think Luhan said you’re security, correct?”

“Yes, if any problems arise, just press the button under the counter and I’ll be here in seconds,” D.O. confirmed, pointing out the button located beneath the tables. “How are you doing so far?”

“Not bad, I’m in my element so I can’t complain too much,” Kit admitted as she glanced over at the playlist to make sure she had enough queued up. “It’s sort of been crash course learning – play the music and meet the people along the way. So far I’ve met you, Lay, Sehun over there, Mr. Personality, Kris, Xiumin, and Luhan but I’m thinking there’s probably a lot of people I haven’t met yet, right?”

“Ah, a few more faces,” D.O. replied. He glanced over at the stage and nodded, gesturing to the warm-skinned young man walking to the center. “Like Kai – he’s the other main dancer that performs out here.”

“Hang on I should get something together for him,” Kit murmured as she scrolled through her library and began pulling songs together. “Is there anything he will absolutely not dance to?”

“I think he’s pretty flexible like Lay,” D.O. said as he watched her slot two songs into her program.

“Okay, I think we need to lighten things up a little,” Kit said as she played the opening of a track titled “Whistle”, a brief soundbite answering back:

Hey boy…

Hey girl…

D.O. listened as she blended the instrumental of the second track with the whistling sounds of the first song. He glanced up at the stage, watching as Kai did body rolls in time with the beats.  

Neon neomu areumdawo neol ijeul suga eobseo geu nunbichi ajik nareul ireohge seollege hae Boom boom

24, 365 ojik neowa gachi hagopa najedo i bamedo ireohge neoreul wonhae Ooh ooh

“How’s he doing?” Kit asked as she played with the next segments for meshing the two songs together.

“He seems to be enjoying himself,” D.O. murmured as Kai picked up the pace of his movements, matching them as the second track’s chorus kicked in.

Oh oh oh Lotto Oh oh oh Lotto oh oh oh Oh oh oh Lotto Oh oh oh Lotto oh oh oh

The security employee found himself nodding along to the catchy, mid-tempo song sprinkled with whistle sounds in the background.

“It’s catchy,” D.O. said. “It’s…playful in a way, this mix. Usually he gets these really sexy songs that are slow and sensual. I think this is a little more his speed.” He jerked his head up at the sound of women shrieking and bit his lip, shaking his head. “Aish, the shirt’s off and our clients are fighting over it!”

Kit snuck a look up at the stage and bit back a laugh when she saw the tan-skinned man was shirtless and a group of middle-aged women were now fighting over the collared shirt he had sported earlier. Kai continued to dance, smirking as his hips thrust forward before he began swaying in circles, a hand trailing through his hair as the other waved around freely.

D.O. sighed before excusing himself to break up the catfight while Kit shook her head and began dragging more songs into her queue.

So far it hadn’t been too bad – people seemed to be responding to her mashups and most of the staff seemed decent. (Save for Tao.) She glanced up at the sound of Sehun knocking on the booth frame.

“You’re doing well so far,” he said with a nod of his head. “Kai loves dancing almost as much as he loves sleeping but I’ve never seen that spark in his eyes before. Don’t get me wrong – Chanyeol’s good at his job, but you’re giving us a fresh perspective.” He grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll give you credit for burning Tao back there – we’re friends but sometimes he’s a pain in the ass to deal with. Only a few of us can keep him in line.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that just slipped out and wasn’t meant to sound savage, would you?” Kit asked as she looked over at him. “I mean, for all I know, he could be ogling the guy from a distance and thought tonight was the night to say something.”

Sehun snickered and shook his head. “Nah, Tao’s not into Chanyeol in that way – I’ve seen him complain to the giant about song choice a couple of times after performances. Chanyeol just takes it and shrugs it off. Maybe a few times he trolled Tao but that’s only if he feels brave enough to poke the panda.”

“You guys call Tao a panda?” Kit asked as she shot him a bewildered look.

Sehun gestured to the under eye area on his face and explained that the blonde was noted for having significant eye bags that made him resemble a panda. Kit nodded to show she understood before grabbing her water bottle and taking a swig.

“So what’s this Chanyeol guy like anyways?”

Sehun opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he heard Xiumin say something via the microphone in his earpiece. He closed his mouth and sighed as he straightened up.

“Sorry noona, Xiumin’s telling me to get back to the bar now,” Sehun said. “I’ll chat later – come find me afterwards, okay?”

Kit bid him goodbye as she checked her watch. Four minutes to go before her break came up. She stretched her arms out and rolled her shoulders back, glancing at the estimated time for her playlist at the bottom of her screen. Noticing that it was shy of seven minutes, she began adding more music into the queue to total eighteen minutes – a bit of wiggle room in case.

In her peripheral vision, she saw someone approaching the booth and she looked up to see it was Kai, still shirtless and drenched in sweat.

“No luck getting that shirt back, huh?” she joked.

Kai shook his head and laughed as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Ah, there’s plenty backstage – giving up one shirt won’t hurt me. So, you’re new DJ Lay was talking about?”

“Yup, that’s me. Although I have no idea how long I’ll be here for, since the mysterious Chanyeol is said to be pretty sick.”

“Hopefully you’ll be here a few more days,” Kai replied as he rested a hand on the doorframe. “I had fun out there. Well, take that back – dancing is fun, period, but I enjoyed the mashup you just played for me. You on break soon?”

“In two – nah actually now officially on break,” Kit corrected as she checked the clock.

Kai straightened up and stepped back so she could close up the booth. She retrieved her water bottle and phone before slipping past Kai, grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed behind her.

“Wanna get some fresh air?” Kai asked as he gestured to the doors. “I’ll show you the patio – some people go out there for a smoke but I prefer it because it’s quiet.”

“Fresh air sounds good – hang on, are you okay to take a break now? I’d hate for you to get in trouble like Sehun almost did.”

“Yeah I’m free no–“ Kai paused before Sehun flagged him down. “Or maybe not?”

“That woman over at the far right table was talking about you,” Sehun explained as the pair approached the bar. He pointed in her direction, noting it was the one wearing a Bride-to-Be sash. “Her friends were wondering if you’d give a private dance for her. All of them are chipping in for this – also wondered if you’d give her a kiss or two.”

Kai flashed Kit a guilty smile and mouthed an apology before wiping his face with a towel Sehun threw him. He draped the towel around his neck and excused himself to go greet the bachelorette party requesting him.

“Break time?” Sehun asked her.

“Yeah,” Kit replied, “where can I find the patio by the way?”

Sehun leaned over the bar and used his arm to show the directions to the area Kai mentioned. Once she understood where she was going, she excused herself to find it, nodding at D.O. as she passed him.

“Ah! Kit-noona, hi!” Chen said as she stepped out onto the patio. 

“Am I interrupting a profound thinking moment, cause I can go elsewhere for my break,” Kit asked.

“Oh no, no! You can stay,” he reassured her.

She thanked him before taking a seat, stretching her legs out and sighing.

“How’s your first night so far?” he asked.

“Better than I expected,” she said. “Well, almost – I think Tao hates me but I was bound to piss someone off, right?”

Chen shook his head and chuckled lightly. “He’s hard to please – don’t take it personally.”

“In my defense, he was really going hard asking why Chanyeol wasn’t in the booth, when was he coming back, and yeah, you get it.”

“You weren’t screaming about his blonde hair or his muscles,” he teased. “See, if you did that, then he’d be nicer!”

Kit squinted at him and pursed her lips at the suggestion. “I can see why people like him, but I’m not charmed. He needs to laugh more – maybe that will help with his panda complex as Sehun tells me.”

Chen laughed, doubling over and slapping his leg at her suggestion. Kit watched him and shook her head with amusement.

“What? How is that funny? I’m serious!” she replied. “But I’ve been wondering, what’s DJ Chanyeol like anyways? I keep hearing his name and all I know about him is that he must be really tall and he might troll the dancers with song choices.”

Chen straightened up, catching his breath as he leaned back, giving her question some thought. Tall. Loud. Hyper. Music lover. Those were a few of the words one used to describe Park Chanyeol. On a more descriptive level, it was probably better to have her chum up Baekhyun or D.O. for answers, as they hung with him more, especially off the clock.

“Well you might wanna ask his friends, but based on working with him, he loves his job,” Chen offered. “I know you’re probably sick of everyone talking about him, but it’s rare to see him not come in. He’s nice to everyone, even the people who are assholes. I mean, if you had a disgruntled client come up to him and start screaming at him, he’ll apologize with a smile and ask how he can make it better. Now, if you took the same person and they did that to Tao, well, Tao would do, um, the opposite with a bored or unimpressed look on his face.”

Kit nodded as she tried to picture the young man at work in the booth. “Sure hope the poor guy gets better – flu’s a really nasty thing to deal with. Who are his friends here?”

“D.O. – you’ve already met,” Chen mused as he ticked them off on his fingers, “and Baekhyun – you’ll meet him eventually. He does the private performances with Suho. Usually if people book something or make a request for a more intimate session, they’ll be the ones handling those. No sex though – although I’ve seen many flustered people walk out of there with uh, well, that look on their faces.”

“Too hot to handle?”

“I guess,” Chen replied. He checked his watch and huffed when he saw his time was up. “Back to the grind. How much longer do you have?”

Kit checked the timer on her watch and replied that she had a few more minutes.

His hand was on the handle when he heard her ask, “Hey, no one here thinks I’m trying to take Chanyeol’s job, right?”

Chen frowned, brow raised as he glanced back at Kit. “Uh I don’t think so,” he said. “Why? Oh please tell me Tao didn’t plant that seed in your head – everyone else seems to like you just fine! Lay won’t shut up about your audition and from what I heard all night, Kris was smart to get your info and ask you to work with us. What made you think that?”

Kit shrugged as she looked around the patio. “I’m not…ungrateful about all of this happening,” she said. “Sometimes I wanna ask myself if it’s a dream that I’ll wake up from any moment now. I’m not gonna bore you with the details, but it’s a little overwhelming to be here by myself without a set plan in place. I can deal with whiny people who hate my persona but last thing I wanna do is kick a good person out of a job. Plus, I sense there’s an unspoken bro code here that’s being screwed with by me being here. Not sure I like all of the attention I’ve been getting – it’s almost like they’ve never seen a girl spin tracks before.”

Chen turned around and patted her shoulder. “I’m not sure how you did it, but I think the fact that you took the first step to fly out of the country and try living here is pretty brave in itself. As for Chanyeol, yes we’re all used to him and it’s unusual to not see him in the booth, yelling something into a microphone while wearing shades, but it’s not a bad different. He was due for a break though – I don’t think he took a lot of time off for the holidays last time. Maybe the bare minimum, but others took a week or two off to recoup and see family and friends. If anyone does give you a hard time though, tell me and I’ll make sure to get back at them.”

Kit shot him a smile and shook her head as she pushed herself to a standing position. “Nah it’s fine – thanks for letting me ramble. It’s hard to read some of your co-workers but maybe it’s just my personal doubts getting to me. That or the fact that I’m still hella jet-lagged a week later!”

Chen blinked at the slang term and tilted his head. Wait what?

“Oh I guess my state’s showing – sorry,” Kit replied. “I’m originally from Studio City, California. Hella’s just a fancy adjective to emphasize something being more than average. For example, I would recommend you never take the bus by yourself in downtown Los Angeles because they’re hella sketchy. Translation – public buses are very questionable if you’re traveling alone and not from LA. Does that kind of make sense?”

Chen snickered and nodded as he held the door open for her. Kit thanked him as she slipped through the doors and began heading back to the booth.

“I’m going to warn you that if you say that around Suho, he might try to use it in his vocab or worse, crack a Dad joke with it,” Chen called after her. “By the way, his jokes are the worst – don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

“Chanyeol! I’m back – how are you feeling?” D.O. called out as he slipped through the door, closing it behind him.

“I hate being sick,” Chanyeol moaned from upstairs.

“Well, you sound a little better,” D.O. sighed as he wandered into the kitchen. He flicked the lights on and checked the kettle and soup pot, finding both were empty. “You finished everything?”

“Everything stayed down,” Chanyeol said. “I listened to you and slept most of the day too. Also took a cold shower, but had to make the water lukewarm a minute in – cold was too cold.”

“Good,” D.O. said, trying not to laugh at the thought of Chanyeol jumping away from the freezing cold stream of water. “I’ll make you more soup then. I also grabbed medicine for your cough – should help clear that.”

“My doctor,” Chanyeol crooned.

D.O. rolled his eyes as he washed everything in hot, soapy water before clearing space to chop vegetables and prep the base of the soup. He heard footsteps, followed by a loud coughing fit.

“Stay out of the kitchen,” D.O. warned. “I don’t want you coughing on the food.”

Chanyeol sighed as he lingered at the entrance to the kitchen, sniffling. “So how was work?”

D.O. nodded as he tossed onions, carrots, and celery into a pot. “Good,” he replied, uncapping the lid on a container of chicken stock. He poured the liquid into the pot, tapping the bottom to get the remaining drops out.

“Who did the music?” Chanyeol persisted.

D.O. carried the pot over to the stove and placed it on a burner. He turned the dial and adjusted it to medium heat. “The managers and the owner brought in someone to cover for you. She’s from the US I think.”

Chanyeol froze when he heard the reply, his eyes widening. No, that couldn’t be right. Why would they just…?

He didn’t care if it was a girl or a guy they brought in, no he only cared that they had someone else mixing in his booth. The DJ booth at the club had become his second home – sure it was small (maybe borderline cramped) but he loved going in there to play with the controls, headphones dangling from his neck, and beats booming from the speakers. He knew the equipment inside and out unlike anyone else, save for Luhan who had a general idea of how it worked, as he reminded Chanyeol to treat it with care, or risk having the damages come out of his paycheck. He swallowed hard and watched D.O.’s face for any signs as he asked his next question.

“How bad was she?”

D.O. frowned and glanced over at Chanyeol with a confused look. “Bad? What’s your deal? No, she was great! Her mixes are different from yours, but she’s got her own style and it works for our team too. I never said she was replacing you for good – I think she’s only helping out until you recover. That’s what Xiumin told me.”

Chanyeol pressed his lips together and pouted as he watched D.O. calmly chop chicken, tossing it into the pot with the stock and veggies. He noticed the bag on the counter containing the cough medicine and he reached out to grab it.

He squinted to read the bottle’s small print and turned it in his hands. “How of much of this can I take? Please don’t tell me to read the bottle – the print’s ridiculously tiny.”

“1 full cup every four hours, max is twelve,” D.O. said as he glanced over at Chanyeol. “Hey, you better take the amount noted on there – it’s not safe to push beyond the max!”

Chan made a face and removed the plastic cup from the top of the bottle. “But I need to get better! I can’t keep lying around in bed doing nothing – I’m bored and want to be making music!”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering!” D.O. said. He tilted his head and raised a brow. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous of someone you’ve never met.”

“It’s my booth,” Chanyeol said as he twisted the cap off the medicine bottle. He tore the protective seal off the top and began pouring the medicine into the cup.

“Slowly,” D.O. warned as he watched Chanyeol raise the cup to his lips. “I’m not cleaning up the mess if you chug it and it doesn’t stay down.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes and tipped the cup to his lips as he drank the contents as slowly as he could. The fake grape flavor tasted terrible and he grimaced as the liquid slipped down his throat.

“That…is disgusting,” Chanyeol muttered as he put the bottle and cup down.

“It was the only flavor they had left,” D.O. sighed.

Chanyeol turned and began heading back upstairs. “I’m going to sleep some more.”

“I’ll bring up a bowl when it’s done,” D.O. said, shaking his head.

Song List

Whistle Like I Just Hit the Lotto – Whistle (BLACKPINK) and Lotto (EXO)

[ruffleo]

The Best in the West - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Bloodhound

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,718

Chapter Summary: Arthur arrives in Blackwater and heads to the saloon to find a lead regarding his bounty target, Joseph Vaughn, and Dutch’s gang.

Note: AU where Arthur was never apart of Dutch’s gang and makes his living as a bounty hunter. Takes place shortly before the Blackwater heist. Plans for this to become a slow-burn between Arthur and male OC.

[ read on ao3 ]

The road to Blackwater was a nice change of scenery compared to New Austin. The ground progressively got browner and less red, the grass began to fill once again, and trees were few but miles more than in the desert. Arthur had felt his face lift and less tense the farther he got into West Elizabeth. The ranches he passed along the way were much nicer, especially the MacFarlane Ranch. Arthur’s horse was happier too; the stallion huffed and puffed less and bobbed his head.

As Arthur traveled, he worried about the man he was chasing. It was bad news for the people in West Elizabeth that a gang as powerful as Dutch’s was happy and confident enough to move about freely and attack so many stages in quick succession. It also called Arthur to wonder just why the group was robbing so many stagecoaches to begin with. Aside from the obvious incentive, there had to be something else to justify the risk. And Dutch’s past was primarily centered on trains rather than stagecoaches. He predicted that the gang was looking to either terrorize the people and make them scared to travel, yet he didn’t know what good that would do them.

Tall Trees was an effective place to set up camp, too. It was dense and full of wildlife, meaning Arthur would never be able to track down their camp on his own. He would have to go at night, however the presence of grizzly bears and cougars kept that impossible. His only hope was to find some kind of lead in Blackwater.

The city of Blackwater, like everything else when compared to New Austin, was much larger and livelier than Armadillo. People trolled the streets in suits and overalls alike, and wagons moved throughout often. The stable was huge, and Arthur had heard there was a lumber store that sold pre-cut houses.

Arthur noticed the number of people immediately. It made his spine tickle with unease. He felt like an outsider, and rightly so. He believed that nothing good came from so many people in such a small space.

Like any other bounty hunter, Arthur headed to the saloon. It was his best bet, and he would look less out of place in there. In his dusty jeans, sun-beaten and stained collared shirt, two holsters on his waist, a long but well-kept beard, and a rifle on his saddle, he didn’t quite fit the bill for a normal rancher. Once outside the building, Arthur hitched his thoroughbred outside and patted his neck. Arthur smiled at the horse, then turned and went inside.

When he went inside, Arthur headed immediately to the bar. As he walked, he looked around and surveyed the place. It was full of men of all kind, from ranch hands, ranchers, travelling men, and wealthy businessmen. The place had naturally segregated itself. Ranchers and poorer folk remained near the windows and at tables in the front, as well as the bar, while the richer folk stayed in the back near the piano and playing poker. Arthur found a seat at the bar and got the barkeep’s attention.

“One whiskey, please.” Arthur's voice was hoarse and gritty from little use. He slid two dollars across the table. The bar was shiny enough, but Arthur could see dents, dings, and scratches along the surface. When he slid the coins, he could feel the grooves of them under his rough, calloused palms.

The barkeep walked over and grabbed a glass along the way. He reached down for a bottle and poured a drink, then sat it down and slid it to Arthur. He grabbed the two coins as the glass slid. Arthur nodded his thanks and the barkeep went on with his work.

Arthur lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink. The liquor left a fiery trail down his throat and a warm pool in his belly. A drink after such a long journey, and such a long time in New Austin, was his own slice of heaven. Right after money in his pockets.

His ears remained open to the saloon as he drank. He listened to every individual and group in the hopes of garnering any information. He discerned a mix of accents and sifted through much that didn’t pertain to his business. Arthur didn’t quite care to know that Billy from across the road dropped his new revolver and shot his horse, or that little miss Emily vomited trying to birth a foal. The saloon was lively that night and full of many people; Arthur sighed at the prospect of spending the whole night there working. All the money he’d earned would be gone in a lick, and it simply wasn't fun.

After some time, Arthur began to focus his attention away from the average folk and onto the richer men. He turned and looked over his shoulder. There were four men playing poker, which was being run by a young, dark-skinned gentleman. Three of the men were bantering amongst each other, while one man spoke loud and often and had an ego that was bigger than his new shiny boots. He was sure of himself and let the other men know it. If anything went against his favor, he let the other men know what a mistake that was for them and how he would make their lives miserable soon enough. The gamekeeper kept his mouth shut.

There came a point where things started going downhill for the egotistical man. Within a few short minutes, he had lost nearly all of his chips, and he started to fume.

“You’re cheating, you son of a bitch!” He yelled at the man across from him.

Arthur, who had turned his head back to the bar after first glimpsing the men, returned his gaze to the poker table. Everyone else in the saloon did the same, attracted by such commotion.

“Oh, please!” The accused man scoffed.

“Give me back my chips, or I’ll make sure you pay for it! I work for a powerful man!”

The accused man had been sitting comfortably in his chair, leaned back fully. He then leaned forward, arms fulling on the poker table and face scrunched. “Hell! No!”

The yelling man threw his cards onto the table as he stood up hastily. The chair scraped against the floorboards with the force. If someone hadn’t been watching before, they were then. The piano abruptly stopped and even the pianist had his eyes trained on the egotistical man.

“My boss runs nearly all the oil business in Lemoyne! And half the mines, too! You don’t want to mess with me, he and I are close!”

The accused man stayed seated and shook his head. He spat at the man’s feet.

“What’s your name?” The man clenched his fist at his sides. Arthur could imagine the steam spewing out his ears, and his face was as red as a tomato. “He’ll be down here in a few days. I’ll make sure he knows of you.”

Arthur watched and saw the gamekeeper perk at the mention of the man’s boss coming into town. A spark lit up in his belly when he saw it, and tingle crept across his spine. Arthur wasn’t the only one looking for leads, it seemed.

The fight ended when the barkeep had had enough. Claiming he didn’t want any more shootouts in his business, he told the egotistical man to leave, or he’d have the sheriff in here. The man took offense to such a statement and demanded the barkeep’s name too, to which he replied, “I don’t listen to nobody in my own bar. I don’t care who owns what.”

The sheriff was in fact brought to the saloon and the man had to be escorted out, or at least to the door. Arthur downed the last bit of whiskey in his glass and stood up. He headed out of the saloon, where the sheriff stood next to the door to make sure the man did not try to come back. Arthur saw the man walking briskly, head held high, towards the hotel.

Arthur cleared his throat and slowly ran to the man. “Mister! Hey, mister!”

The man turned quickly and scowled at Arthur. “What is it you want?”

“I heard you’s talking in that bar over there. Heard you’s good friends with a wealthy business man, eh? I could really use some work, mister.” Arthur tilted his head and put a desperate look on his face. “Please, please, mister.” He had an inkling that a man would like to be begged at, to think he’s important enough to deem a man worthy.

“Oh. . .” the man’s face flickered for a moment until he smirked, smug. “Yes, I suppose I could help someone in that matter. But why should I?”

“Please, mister, I’m just a poor man looking for some honest work. I just need a little money.” Arthur lifted his hands, palm up, in a sign of defeat. He held them at his sides.

Arthur watched as the man looked him over. The man’s eyes lingered at his weapons. “What are those for?”

“I’ve been traveling all over the place. The wildlife is, well, wild.”

Arthur chuckled internally when the man nodded with not a single follow-up question. “Well, my boss is should be here tomorrow. Maybe the day after. If you come with me, I can introduce you to him. He likes to personally question the men he has working for him.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful, God bless you sir, God bless!” Arthur put his hands together and bowed his head momentarily. “Please, I’d like to introduce myself. Name’s William Smith.” Arthur held his hand out eagerly.

The man took it and shook. “John MacKinnon. Now, I must really be getting back to my residence. Meet me outside the post office at sunrise.”

Arthur nodded vigorously. “Yes, I will! Again, thank you!”

John turned around and continued walking towards the hotel, his step not as hard and his posture resumed to that of a smug banker. His head was full of delusions. Arthur turned around himself and went back to the saloon, where he could now properly rest and relax. That whiskey was damn good, now that he had thought back on it.

[thatbennybee]

Morning coffee with Rhonda

“Branch chuckled, giving her a pet or two before sitting down next to her while she chewed away at the secret treat Branch usually provided her in the morning when he would sit to read the paper.”

Art from my fanfic, Trail Mix! I think Branch would only secretly get along with Rhonda :]

[thatbennybee]

Hello 👋🏻!!

I hope this isn’t a dumb question, but why did you decide to give Branch a belly button jewel? Was there a specific reason or did you decided that all trolls should have them?

Your Snoutsniffer is adorable 🥰!!! It reminds me of a corgi!!! Any chance Branch might end up keeping/adopting her at the end?

Also I don’t know why but when I picture Mitsy and Rhonda meeting for the first time, I imagine Rhonda being scared of Mitsy instead of the other way around 😂!!! With Rhonda trying to hide behind JD 😂🤣!!!

All of them should have them!! Well, some versions of the original Good Luck Trolls dolls had them and Poppy actually had one in her old concept art! Apparently both Poppy & Branch had them during early development but it was changed.

I used to watch the Trollz series as a kid, and they had belly gems too, so I was so sad when it seemed like it was no longer something trolls just had :[ I give Branch and all his brothers a rhombus/diamond shaped gems and Poppy & Viva heart shaped ones! (Branch's is actually cracked due to his greyness :[ sad...)

The purpose of them aren't very prevalent in this AU but they are in my other fic, Trail Mix.

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I hope Branch ends up keeping Mitsy, but it's Milton's critter, so it's up to him 🥺 I wanted Mitsy to be like Branch's little Rhonda, so you're right about that!! ;] <3

She's supposed to be like an armadillo/dog/cat thing... She meows! LOL