#u can do whatever u want with fic I shouldn’t judge

[cross-d-a]

I haven’t reviewed my collection approvals in a while bc they’re a bitch to find on ao3 but I’ve been mulling over two requests for a while now bc I understand the spirit of the collection but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth bc a lot of it is specific character bashing which I don’t enjoy or endorse but like- the requested fics do technically fit the collection and maybe if they were in there then ppl would click on my fics and realize..that characters..are nuanced…and don’t need to be bashed…and can be handled in a productive way….and actually have growth….idk maybe I’m thinking too hard about this

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can u do a fic where like James is currently dating lily and then Sirius starts dating some random guy from whatever house and James gets like super jealous and possessive trying to keep Sirius to himself (I’d write it myself but I can’t write for shit lol)

((A/N: In keeping with the prompt, there is brief James/Lily in the beginning))

James frowned. "Who's Sirius with?"

"Hm?" Lily looked up, then followed James's stare over to where his best mate was. "That's Fabian, you know that. You're on the Quidditch team together, for Merlin's sake. What's up with you?"

James opened his mouth to say that nothing was wrong with him and bugger you, Lily, for even suggesting it, then he paused. He was bothered by this. There was no reason to be bothered by this. Sirius and Fabian weren't mates, so James hadn't seen them chatting before. Gideon and Fabian were the year above them, and they were busy with Quidditch and all their NEWT classes. Neither of them exactly had time to socialize with random-arse people in the year below them. James's frown deepened. Sirius wasn't a random person, and he was perfectly capable of talking to anyone in Hogwarts, especially someone as cool as Fabian. So why was he upset? "I dunno," he said to Lily, but his mind was reeling, trying to figure it out.

Normally, James was only bothered by people talking to his friends if they were dangerous. All the Slytherins in their year had plenty of reason to hold a grudge, so that would've made sense. But Fabian was a Gryffindor, and perfectly trustworthy besides, so it couldn't be that.

"Look," Lily said with a small smile, "I get that you're used to Sirius always being around, but you wanted to spend time just the two of us, so he has time to branch out."

"He is not replacing me," James said indignantly. He was Sirius's best friend and he always would be. Getting a girlfriend hardly changed that.

"I wasn't saying that. But be realistic, for a second. He wants to spend his time with you, but you're busy. Remus and Peter took all the time you spent off doing your own thing to study, so he can't hang out with them. He had to find someone else."

"Fabian's not drowning in spare time."

"Maybe they have free time at the same time," Lily said with a shrug. "I dunno, do I look like a seer to you? C'mon, stop worrying about what Sirius is up to and let's enjoy our time alone for the next hour, yeah?"

James dredged up a smile for her because he was happy that they had some time alone in Hogsmeade before they met back up with their friends. He should enjoy this. Besides, he'd see Sirius then, and he'd be able to ask him about what was going on between him and Fabian. Because that glimpse that he'd gotten hadn't been two friends talking; it had been more than that.

He might be reading too much into it, but there had been something in the way that Sirius was standing-- or maybe it had been in his smile?-- that made James think they were flirting. If they had been flirting, James would have to caution Sirius to knock it off before he got hurt. Fabian was a good guy, yeah, but getting involved with somebody a year above them was asking for trouble. Everyone knew that they were supposed to date within their year. Less heartache that way, and Sirius was rather sensitive, even if he liked to pretend that he wasn't.

*

"Hey," James said, pulling Sirius off to the side. He waited until the rest of the group was too far away to hear them before continuing, "I saw you with Fabian earlier. What's going on with that?"

"Oh," Sirius said. He sounded a little surprised but not horribly shocked at being seen. He seemed pleased, judging by the small smile that spread across his face. "We were, er- on a date. He asked when he saw that I was alone, and I figured why not?"

"Why would you go on a date with him?" James asked, sounding ridiculously rude.

Sirius blinked, smile giving way to confusion. "Because he's nice to me? And funny?"

"No, I mean why would you date him?"

"The same reasons I just said, tosser. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me," James said defensively.

"Then stop acting like there is," Sirius replied, brushing past him. They were both heading to Gryffindor Tower though, so James fell into step next to him like he always did. "I had a nice day before you got your wand in a knot. The first nice day I've had since you decided to abandon me for Lily, I might add."

"I did not abandon you for Lily."

Sirius snorted, clearly not believing him.

"We still see each other all the time!" James insisted.

"Yeah, because we take all the same classes and sleep in the same dormitory, not because you make time for me anymore."

"I never had to make time for you because you never had anything else to do; that's different," James said, and then immediately regretted it. "I didn't mean that how it sounded. I just mean that there was never someone I wanted to see other than you! Wormtail and Moony always crop up when they wanted to see us, so I didn't have to make time to see them. Lily's different."

"Tell your bloody girlfriend that she can see you when we're hanging out then."

"She already does. Or have you somehow missed her and Marlene sitting next to us in the Great Hall and in the common room? I know, of course, that you haven't. You just ignore them."

"I always ignore Marlene," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "If I look at her, she thinks it means I'm interested. Look, I don't know what's crawled up your arse today, but I'm allowed to date someone. You made time for Lily by spending less time with me. I am now spending that free time by hanging out with Fabian."

James grit his teeth together. What Sirius said made sense, but something about it was bugging him. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but it didn't feel right. Something was wrong with the situation. He knew that he couldn't say anything to Sirius about it right now; he'd only get more upset with James. "Fine," he gritted out.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, daring him to object again, but James stayed stubbornly silent.

*

Sirius's relationship with Fabian was short-lived; he said that while Fabian was a good bloke and all, it didn't really feel like they were dating when they spent time together. James was unreasonably happy about that, and things went back to normal for them. He didn't realise that he'd been ignoring everything else in his life to spend more time with Sirius though, not until Lily confronted him.

"You're spending more time stalking your best mate than you do sat in class, James," she said, arms crossed over her chest. "Look, I knew going into this that you and Sirius were close, but this is obsessive."

He blinked, doing a quick run-through of the last week. He had spent a good portion of his time hanging onto Sirius-- literally, since he hadn't wanted for him to wander off if he looked the other direction-- but he wouldn't call it obsessive. "We're mates," he defended. "Of course we spend time together."

"Yeah, you're mates, but I didn't say yes to a date just to fight for your time. You used to know that you couldn't spend your every waking moment with him, and now you're regressing."

"I'm not regressing," James said. The idea was insulting, and he kind of couldn't believe she said it. He needed to make things clear to her, and there was no time like the present. "Sirius is the most important person in my life, and if you can't handle that, maybe we shouldn't be dating."

"You're a tosser," Lily said, expression stony. "But you're right. We shouldn't be dating." With that, she turned on her heel, hair tossed over her shoulder, and stalked away.

James was pretty sure he should feel something other than annoyed that she'd dragged him away from Sirius just so she could get jealous. He made his way back to their table and sat down without saying a word.

"Hey," Sirius said, scooting over to make room for him.

James had the urge to wrap an arm around Sirius's shoulders and pull him back to where he'd been before.

"What did Lily want to talk about?"

"Nothing," James grumbled, and it was obvious that he was lying, so he didn't feel bad about it.

Sirius frowned. "You alright?"

Sensing that Sirius wasn't about to drop it, he sighed. "We broke up. She said I was spending too much time with you, and I told her to get over it." He shrugged. "It's a good thing I'm not a prefect, or meetings would be awkward as hell."

"You broke up with Lily?"

James nodded.

"Over me?"

"Pretty sure Lily has a problem with me, not you, if it helps."

"You've been talking my ear off over her for three years, and then you break up after a few months?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Over me?"

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

Sirius continued to stare at him like he didn't have a clue what was going on, then shook his head. "Guess not."

*

As much as James wanted to forget what Lily had said, he couldn't. It kept repeating through his head as he laid down to sleep and ignoring it didn't do him any good.

He had been spending a lot of time with Sirius lately. They normally only did this over the summer, when there was nobody else around that they could hang out with. James would be less inclined to do it if he ever got annoyed with Sirius, but that didn't happen. No matter how much time he spent with Sirius, he was always willing to see him more. He never wanted a break. He'd liked Lily, but he hadn't wanted to spend half that much time with her. More than two dates a week and he started to get annoyed. Not with her, necessarily, but with the fact that he couldn't relax. He was always relaxed around Sirius.

When he'd imagined falling in love, he hadn't thought that he'd want to spend more time with his friends than his girlfriend; he'd imagined it at about fifty-fifty. It was probably what Lily had been thinking would happen too, and she'd been good with that. She hadn't been okay with the split being ninetyeight-two though, which was fair. If Lily had been the one ignoring him, he would've been a lot more pissed off than she'd been. Although, now that he thought about it, she'd been plenty angry when she first asked him to talk, and he'd tried to brush her off. He definitely owed her an apology for that.

With a sigh, he rolled onto his other side. He was hoping that he'd be able to get to sleep now, but instead of thinking about Lily, he was thinking about Sirius.

He'd been really upset when Sirius started dating Fabian. It didn't make any sense. Like Sirius had said, he was mostly spending time with him whenever James was with Lily, so it wasn't cutting into what little time they had, or summat. And on the flip side, he'd been really happy when Sirius and Fabian split. He hadn't had a reaction that extreme to his own breakup-- even though the emotion he should've felt was sadness, but his point still stood. He should've been upset about him and Lily breaking up, but he kind of... hadn't cared. He was more upset about the fact that he didn't care than that they'd broken up.

Or maybe, he thought as he rolled onto his back restlessly, he'd gotten upset with Lily for suggesting that he spend slightly less time with Sirius. Because she'd wanted her boyfriend to spend time with her, and he'd said no. If nothing else, it showed that he wasn't ready to date someone, because he didn't think his response wouldn't have been different if he'd been dating anyone else. Well, except for Sirius, because then there wouldn't be an issue. Hanging out with Sirius would be the same as hanging out with his boyfriend.

Whatever, he'd apologise to Lily tomorrow, and hopefully she wouldn't be too pissed at him. He'd be honest, and that would probably be enough.

*

"Lily, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, going up to her in the common room as she was working on an essay-- History of Magic, by the look of it.

It was obvious that she was still mad at him by the way the corners of her mouth tightened, but she still nodded and set down her quill to follow him outside the portrait hole so they had a bit of privacy.

"I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I acted like a berk, and you didn't deserve that. You were right; I shouldn't date someone unless I'm actually going to make time for them, and I should've realised that before I ever tried to ask you out. I'm sorry."

"...Thank you," Lily said, scuffing her shoe against the floor. "Since we're not getting back together, can I say something?"

"Sure."

"You might want to warn the next person you date that you and Sirius aren't just close; you're a package deal."

James frowned at her. Not because he was angry, thank Merlin, but because he didn't understand what she meant. Weren't all friends like that?

"Like, you don't care for Marlene, and that's fine because we could still spend time together without it getting in the way. But if I didn't like Sirius? Forget about it. We wouldn't have made it a week. I doubt that's going to change, so a little warning might be good for you."

James blinked. "Right. Erm, thanks."

Lily rolled her eyes, sensing his insincerity. Which, in his defense, he hadn't meant to be insincere, but he didn't exactly understand what she meant by that. He'd heard every word, but it still wasn't any different than what he'd been thinking before-- Lily and Marlene were friends, yes, but no one described them as being close, certainly not the way that Sirius and James were described as close. "Whatever, mate, it's your life." With that, she walked past him and back into the common room.

*

James was beginning to hate these late night revelations he was having. Last night had been that he wasn't ready for a girlfriend when he spent so much time with Sirius, and tonight was- well, that maybe he wanted to date Sirius instead of some bird. He'd been horribly jealous when Sirius started spending time with Fabian-- and yes, he realised the irony of having accused Lily of getting jealous of him and Sirius when he was the one who was guilty.

Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted to date Sirius. There was no 'maybe' about it. He'd only had his realisation ten minutes ago, but he didn't know how he was going to see him tomorrow morning without throwing himself at him. Face first. He wanted to kiss Sirius. He wanted to snog his face off.

In his defense, he'd always known that Sirius was fit as hell, but he hadn't known that his appreciation of his best mate's looks was crossing a line from platonic to romantic. He wasn't sure, for a moment, if romantic inclinations were exactly what he was feeling, but when he compared it to how he felt about his other mates, it solidified his suspicions: he fancied Sirius.

And he had no idea what to do about it. He had a feeling that grabbing and kissing him the next time he saw him wouldn't go over too well.

*

Naturally, James dealt with the situation by kissing Sirius the first time he saw him that morning. It wasn't exactly pleasant, because Sirius had been brushing his teeth, but he didn't immediately shove James away so he was going to count it as a success.

Sirius blinked at him. He held up a finger, spit in the sink, then said, "What the hell is going on with you?" He didn't sound upset, which was another point to this being a success for James.

That being said, James really should've waited until he was more awake. He didn't have his glasses on, so everything was blurry. Except for Sirius when he had kissed him because he'd been right in front of James's face. Also it was harder to form a coherent sentence before he'd been awake for an hour. "You know Fabian?"

"I'm familiar with him, yes," Sirius said dryly. He reached for a cup and rinsed out his mouth, then wiped so it got rid of the little white specks dotting his lips.

Absently, James rubbed at his own mouth and was unsurprised that a bit of toothpaste came off. "I was erm, really jealous when you were seeing him."

"I know."

"If you know, then why are you confused?"

"You're weirdly possessive of me. I know that. Kissing me is a bit much, even for you."

James rolled his eyes. "Turns out that the weird possessive rubbish is me wanting to date you."

"What do you mean it 'turns out'?" he asked. At least he wasn't grossed out or summat.

"Well I was thinking last night, and I realised-"

"Last night? You figured out that you fancied me last night?"

"Erm," James said, very eloquently. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

Sirius snorted. "You don't waste any time."

"Well I realised it last night, but it's not like I started to fancy you last night. I think it's been going on for a while."

"You're-" Sirius started to say, then he pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

"What?"

"You are easily the most ridiculous person I know."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"It's you; of course it's a good thing," Sirius said, leaning against the counter. Thoughtfully, he folded his arms over his chest. "So we're dating now?"

"You never said yes, or how you felt, or anything," James pointed out.

"The answer was obviously yes."

"Was it obvious?"

"Was it not?" Sirius asked, brow furrowing.

James shook his head.

"Oh. Well, when Fabian asked me out, I figured that I couldn't feel worse about seeing you with Lily if I was also dating someone. And I've been pining after since like, third year, so it's probably a good thing that you didn't notice. It would've been really awkward. You're a bit of a dumbarse, but it always works out in my favour," Sirius said with a grin.

"Rude," James said idly. "Be nice to your boyfriend. I'm sensitive."

"Sure you are, mate. Sure you are."

[internalsealpanic]

Camp Crystal What?

summary: Camp Crystal Lake is a fine and dandy place to spend your summer, said no one ever. You are inclined to agree with that and so are Damian and Jon. 

a/n: I am back from retirement with a REEEEEEAAAAALLLLY long crack fic. (This is long as shit by my standards. Leave me alone.) This  was co written and edited by my wife @littleredwing89. She was also the biggest enabler for this. I tried to give reader some executive dysfuction but I don’t think it worked out well. We’ll see. This is my first super sons fic please feel free to roast it. 

warnings: This really self indulgent and really long. You would think I would have more gore in a slasher film based fic. No. Apparently not. 

masterlist

Jon cackles, his chin lifting only slightly from its perch on your shoulder just enough for you to fully hear the petty sound. You tilt your switch, sticking out your tongue in a vain attempt to avoid Damian’s blue shell. You cry out, throwing your arms up in exasperation as the shell hits you just as you were about to cross the finish line. Your outstretched prosthetic arm nearly hitting Jon in the process, not that you felt too bad about that considering…

 “Yeah! Got ‘em, Dami!” Jon says, high fiving a smug-looking Damian beside you.  You glare at Jon, who was still leaning against you like you weren’t about to bite his head off. “Whose side are you on?”

 “Justice!” This draws a snort out of both Tim and Jason who were both sitting in the back. 

 “No, you’re not!”

 “Yes, I am!”

 “He is, (l/n). You needed to be cut down to size," Damian declares, subtly brandishing his screen showing Rozalina doing a little victory lap in her kart as her little star guy floated around her. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks like an unruly chipmunk as you cross your arms over your chest. This only serves to make Damian all the smugger and Jon all the more gleeful at your loss. 

 You turn the full force of your ire on Jon who was smiling innocently at you, big blue eyes sparkling reminding you of your husky, Yoohoo. You’re about to say something scathing but stop instead deciding to stew in your loss and sulk as you hand Jon your Switch. You’d think he would be more prepared since he was the one who insisted on coming with you to this camp. Now that you think about it, why were they here? All you remember is telling Jon that you couldn’t go visit him over the summer because your parents were sticking you in a summer camp while they go abroad for something and the next thing you know is that you’re in an SUV with Jon, Damian, Damian’s older brother’s, and their friend(?). Whatever she was to them Damiam never adequately explained like everything else. Though you suspect she was Dick’s wife judging from how little they cared whether the other invaded their space. The lack of a wedding ring made you unsure. 

 You let out a little huff, melting into your oversized Gotham U hoodie, letting Jon lean on you despite your sour mood and touch aversion. You lean against him in return and watch as Yoshi zips past Rosalina in mild petty satisfaction. 

You all file out of the car, drowsy and irritable. You muss Jon’s bed head into an even more tangled mess. Neither of you tells Damian about the streak of drool on his face. Tim shuffles the three of you towards the convenience store while Jason politely explains to the mechanic that he’s wrong, Dick orders lunch at the diner and makes a call back to Gotham presumably to make sure Wayne industries isn’t burning down. 

Over your shoulder, you can see Jason’s form working hard not to look threatening. It’s not working or maybe the mechanic was shaking because Faust isn’t even trying to hide the irritation wicking off of her. 

 “He wha-” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose muttering something about Mr.Wayne. He looks pained. Tim hands you a wad of one-dollar bills as his voice takes Timothy Wayne's public speaker pitch. All of the Wayne’s seem to have three voices. Their Wayne voice, their vigilante voice, and their normal voice. Mr. Wayne has the most distinct voice. Dick’s was honestly really hard to distinguish.  

 You count the wad of cash in your hand as Jon grabs a basket from the pile. You note, with amusement, that at least five of the bills had variations of ‘don’t buy cereal’ written on them in distinct handwriting. 

 “Kent, are you planning to put the entire store in the basket?”

 “Nah, just the good stuff.”

 You marvel at the amount of food Jon managed stockpile in your basket while you were distracted. 

 “Uh, Jon, we don’t need that much.” Plus, I don’t think we can eat all of that. 

 “They’re right,” Damian chides, making Jon pout. 

 After a healthy amount of debate, two almost food fights, a near fistfight, and your attempt at puppy dog eyes, you finally narrow the snacks down and even have enough money left for slushies. You shrug at her, adding more blue than necessary. There weren’t rules against this. Plus, it was tastier this way. 

 “Dami,  what flavor do you want?” Jon shouts from the slushie machine.  Beside him, you swirl a mix of red, green, pink, and blue slushies. The lady at the counter was wrinkling her nose at you the way Dami is wrinkling his nose at Jon.

 Jon’s big cup of neon blue smoothie dropped to the floor in a loud clatter. 

 “You’re all doomed! He’s coming. He’s coming! That place is cursed!” The scraggly man screams as he shakes Jon. Damian’s lip tries not to curl in amusement as you both watch the scene unfold. Out of context, this was horrifying. In context, it was hilarious especially considering how badly Jon is acting. The clerk at the counter looks appropriately horrified. You look at Jon, feeling a twinge of worry. He’s not in danger. You know that but you can’t help it.

 Your concoction flies into the man’s face in no time flat and Jon scrambles to your side as soon as the man drops him. You step in front of him bracing for further confrontation but the man simply walks off muttering about something you couldn’t hear over the beating of your heart. 

“Exactly, why am I in the back?” Jason whines, unfolding and refolding himself, not quite sure where to place what limb in the cramped back row of the SUV. You let out a giggle which earns you a rather harsh glare from an already irate Jason. Damian glares back at him for you, in an oddly protective gesture, and you can’t help but feel strangely smug about it. 

 They glower at each other for a few minutes. Jason, probably knowing this was a stalemate, turns his attention towards the front of the vehicle, sharp green eyes narrowing at the rearview mirror. “Shouldn’t Faust’s short ass be in the back with Timbo and the Three Tiny Terrors?” 

 You hear an amused huff from the front along with the loud crinkling and shuffling of the map. Faust glances over her shoulder, the bright mischief in her eyes contrasting with the rich brown of her skin. You wonder if everyone in Damian and Jon’s lives were all this pretty. An almost smile quirks on the edges of her lips as she says “You didn’t call shotgun~”

 Jason hisses something colorful behind you. Tim, beside him, is chuckling either from Jason’s misery or, based on the defeated cry coming from Jon, having just nailed Yoshi with lightning. Could be both. It was likely. 

 Jason, looking positively annoyed, unfolds himself and violently settles his feet on Tim’s lap. Tim yelps then says something close to a swear word. Jason grins lazily looking more like a cat as he leans back. This time Jon cries out in joy, the victory music blaring from your switch. Again, Tim hisses something edging towards a curse word. Jon wriggles out of his seat and fist bumps Jason who returns the gesture enthusiastically. In the reflection on the windshield, you can clearly see the amusement in Dick’s smile. Even to your right, Damian seems amused if not outright gleeful at seeing Tim’s misery.  You couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t a master of reading Waynes yet. You would turn to Jon but he wasn't fluent either. Faust told you that it would take a while which just meant that you would never master it. Reading people was hard enough as it was. There was always something difficult about interpreting social signals. It was so easy to get them wrong and when you add in the complication of being a vigilante you just found yourself frustrated. You slump into the seat feeling the frustration writhing under your skin. Jon noticing your frustration eases up and gives you a little more space. 

 "So, what's with the map?" Tim asks, throwing Jason's feet back at him and handing you his switch. Faust wrinkles her nose at the offending piece of paper. "Well, Dicktopus here insisted on the authentic road trip atmosphere complete with bad cell signal, a map, and oh right, getting lost." Dick gives her a look which Faust just shrugs it off. 

 "Like what? The Goofy movie?" Tim asks incredulously, his brows wrinkling in the rearview mirror as he gives Dick a withering look. 

 Faust snorts in confirmation. Jon’s face crumples in confusion. You make a small hiccupping noise mimicking the noise that passes for Goofy's laugh and you see as the bleary memory clicks into place. "You mean the old movie we watched last night?"

 "It's old but gold," Dick defends fervently, earning him an indulgent smile from Faust and a withering look from Damian. Damian shrinks into his seat unwilling to expend too much effort defending his mentor's taste in movies despite him enjoying the movie. You did too but you wanted to see how this would play out. Behind you, Jason shifts, a shark-like grin plastered across his face. " Just because that's the movie you modeled your life after, Big Bird, doesn't mean it's good."

 Dick makes this affronted noise that makes him sound a little like he's squawking. "It's a good movie and you know it!" Dick says earnestly, scowling at a still cocky Jason through the reflection in the windshield. You see Damian, Jason, Faust, and Tim's eyes meet in the rearview mirror, all shining conspiratorially. You and Jon give each other a look, each looking like you're bracing for disaster. 

 "Dunno, Dick, I think the second one was soooo much better," Tim pipes up finally. It sounds like the spark lighting a trail of gunpowder towards a powder keg. 

 "I have to agree with Drake," Damian says honestly sounding pained. 

 Faust rewards him with a conspiratorial smile which makes Damian ease a little. The gesture from what you understood roughly translated to 'it was for the greater good.' "So much for your taste in movies, Dickens," Faust teases, poking a finger at Dick’s shoulder. 

 "You're one to talk!" Dick says, rolling his eyes childishly. 

 Faust twists her body to look at all 5 of you, winking at you and Jon as if she was about to perform a magic trick, which wasn't off the table since she could actually pull weapons from her tattooed skin. "You guys loved Lake Placid, right?" 

 Playing along, you each gave varying sounds of agreement til Dick finally threw his hands up in exasperation. "HEATHENS!" Faust looks pleased as punch at this reaction. You giggle as Dick groans into the steering wheel as you slow to a stop in front of a cross-section. 

 "Traitors all of you," Dick says, resting his arm on the back of his seat and giving all of you a halfhearted scowl. He kind of looked like Yoohoo when you refused to give him treats. 

 You all bask in Dick’s misery. You even catch Jon giggling at Dick’s frown despite himself. The rest were completely unrepentant. They don't even bother to hide the self-satisfied smiles on their faces, least of all Damian who vehemently protested to being subjected to such drivel. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that he had watched the movie with the same rapt attention as you and Jon. You all enjoyed the movie just as much as Dick did but it was much funnier to gang up on him. 

 Dick continues to argue his point as all of you offer, frankly, bogus arguments that you say with as much conviction as Dick levels against you. The banter continues in a rather jaunty rhythm until a fallen tree forces the car into a rather abrupt stop. 

 "Shit!" Jason hisses at full volume as his knees hit the back of Damian’s seat which draws out a soft 'oof' from Damian which quickly reshapes into a snarl. Tim and Damian give Jason a look of mock sympathy. Jason raises his middle finger in a vaguely familiar gesture. 

 "Jason!" Dick says, cutting off your train of thought much to your frustration. You contemplate hissing some colorful words yourself. 

 Jason grunts, probably rubbing his shins. "They've heard, said, and done worse." You hear Jon protest beside you but it's quickly cut off by a 'not you' from somewhere. 

 Then it hits you. "Oh yeah! Dami did that hand thingy when he drop-kicked someone during lunch," you admit conversationally. 

 "Dami!" 

 Damian gives you an absolutely betrayed look. You shrug at him not entirely sure what was wrong. You shrink a little and Damian pulls back a little but still glares. 

 "Didn't you hear him say the F-word?" Jon adds. You blink at him, running through your memory like a film reel and turning up nothing. "Some of us don't have super hearing," you supply with no real anger behind it. 

 "Ope, sorry, (y/n)." You shrug at him congenially as he smiles sheepishly at you. No harm no foul. 

 "Kent!"

 "Oh- Uh, sorry, Dami." 

 Damian doesn't look appeased at all by this. 

 “Ok, so we’re just gonna skip over the fact that he drop-kicked someone?” Tim asks, raising a brow and you find yourself thinking, “Well, yeah. He’s Robin. That’s kinda his thing.”

 Jason snorts beside him, seemingly less irritable now that Dick’s attention was directed elsewhere. “He didn’t get caught soooo..”

 “Jason!”

 “Jason, we’re not supposed to be obvious about being terrible influences.” Faust jokes, now redirecting Dick’s ire to her. You can’t tell if that was intentional or not but either way she seems to be enjoying how Dick’s expression makes him look like a carp gasping for air.

 “Why did you tell them?” Damian hisses, albeit softer than he normally does. You frown at him confused. You thought it was spectacular and you really don’t know what was wrong. You really wish they’d explain it. Maybe you should speak up but would that be rude? You stare at Damian trying your hardest to convey your confusion but you’re having trouble shaping your face into the correct one. You try to keep in mind the face Jon makes when Damian tried to explain quantum physics to both of you. 

 Turning away from her argument with Dick, Faust looks at you pityingly before speaking and putting her hand up to Dick’s face lightly pushing him back. “Relax, Baby Vamp, I would’ve gotten it out of them sooner or later,” Faust says, looking at you with the same stern look Mr. Pennyworth gives you when you try to steal cookies. It kind of reminds you of the Penance Stare from Ghost Riders but with less flaming skulls and more implied disappointment. 

 “Tim was the one who ate the last few pieces of the brownies Mr. Pennyworth made for Jason.” The words flow out of you like water from a cataract. Faust waves her hand theatrically as if she had just demonstrated a magic trick. Again, you’re pretty sure this was one. You wince fully expecting Tim to have the same caustic reaction as Damian. But when you turn to look at him to apologize, Tim already had his hands up in front of him defensively. On the other side, not far enough away for Tim’s liking, Jason looks livid, steam coming out of his ears. 

 “Those were mine, asshole!”

 “You eat them every time you’re at the Manor!”

 “When I’m at the Manor! Which is what? Once every three months?”

 “Two,” Tim deadpans, holding up two fingers. 

 That was the wrong thing to say, you realize. From the way they’re staring at each other, you’re a little afraid they’d come to blows as Jason surges forward. 

 “Tim, Jay, I will turn this car around if you two don’t stop.”

 “Please, continue.” Dick shoots Damian a ‘you are not helping’ glare but Damian simply answers with a warning one. They all look ready for a brawl and all you want to do is curl up into your oversized hoodie. You play with the frayed edges of your hoodie hoping you’re radiating your discomfort.

 And like an angel of mercy, Faust clears her throat. “(Y/n), Jon, help me clear the road.” The statement leaves no room for argument and you and Jon breathe a collective sigh of relief. 

Jon lifts the tree with ease. It was an oddly healthy tree, freshly cut. Something about it made your stomach turn. “Jon could have done it alone. Why bring me?” You ask, distracting yourself from the strange feeling by fiddling with the joints of your metal hand which only made you more conscious of how pointless it was to bring you along. Faust glances towards the car. The boys are still bickering. She then glances down at you with a wry smile. “Waynes bickering is really funny from a distance.” Your eyes glance at the light scar on her running down her clavicle, disappearing into the line of her shirt.  You doubt it’s from any of them. You really doubt it. The Wayne kids were chaotic, especially the girls, but they’re never- Well, they can be hurtful but not that way. Not that you’ve seen anyway.   You shake your head and glance at the car and watch them argue. Their gestures are animated and loud enough that you could almost hear the bickering going on. This liveliness settles your stomach. 

 You spend a few minutes out there waiting for them to settle down. It was long enough for you and Jon to start debating the existence of Gummy Bear shaped aliens and for Faust to weigh in with her humble opinion. Dick honks at the three of you to tell you it was, relatively, safe to come back. Tim, Damian, and Jason were all sulking in their respective corners while Dick gives you and Jon an apologetic look. Jon simply shrugs as if to say it was normal for brothers to argue but you found it hard to picture Conner ever being that mean to Jon or vice versa for that matter. Faust rolls her eyes at the sulking birds, a fond smile quirking on her lips.  Dick gives her a look that was usually followed by the words ‘I miss not being the adult’ which she graciously answers with a smile that plainly says ‘me too.’

 In the corner of your eye, you see something- a shadow- move in the woods as you drive off, Dick’s story about space aliens falling away into the background. You turn to Jon who looks at you confused and a little concerned. It was clear he didn’t see it, whatever it was. You turn to Damian but see he’s still stewing. You blin and the shadow is gone. A sticky feeling of dread settles in your stomach. 

 There's pressure in the car. 

The camp is, well, loud. 

 Louder than you were expecting and full of rowdier children than promised. You wince slightly, ears ringing. You and Damian sigh already knowing that you were both going to be absolutely exhausted by the end of this. You turn to Jon, shoulder slumping, only to find him beaming as he watched the other kids run around. There were alot of days you envied Jon and this was one of them. Damian looks at Jon with utter disbelief. You shrug at him as he wrinkles his nose at both Jon and the hooligans running around. Your lip quirks into a scraggly smile fully understanding.

 “This is going to be repulsive,” Damian hisses.  

 “Lighten up, Dami.”

 “Nah, he’s gotta practice being dark and brooding, so when he gets to be the big bad bat he can do the whole brooding thing all-natural,” you joke, using your finger to mimic the ears of Batman’s cowl. 

 “Please, say that louder. I don’t think the supervillains heard you,” says Damian sarcastically, nose upturned.  

 Jon grins at you in a challenge. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. Your brain cell takes a vacation. 

 “HE’S GOTTA-” Damian clamps a hand on your mouth. You glare at him. His eye flicks to Jon who is sucking in a breath. Damian is throwing his other hand over Jon’s mouth when one of the counselors waves you over. All three of you blanch at the color of the shirt. 

 You all stand in an odd misshapen circle. Damian looks incredulously at the tacky camp T-shirt he’s been forced into while Jon does not contain his laughter. You joke about how a bowtie would definitely class it up which earns you a rude gesture that just makes you laugh harder. 

 “Alright kiddos, it’s time to introduce ourselves!”

 Damian froze under the weight of their collective gazes, the hint of a smile on his face fading. Sometimes being around you and Jon made him forget. Well, not really forget. It was just easier not to think about it when you two were around. Damian feels himself shifting, realigning himself to 5’ 2” of cold arrogance.

 It should have scared you just how easily the warm fondness on his face smoothed out giving way to this cold calculating face. It did on some level; on some level, the efficiency of Damian’s face muscles scared you. Sometimes you had to wonder if it was just him or if his brothers had the same knee-jerk reaction. 

 You roll your eyes as if nothing worrying had happened and bump your shoulder against his. A smile twitches on his lip and the ramrod shape of his spine curves a bit.  Jon snickers, not trying too hard to hide it, which earns him the full force of Damian’s ire but you and Jon know all too well that Damian’s just being prickly.  You step forward, shoulders broadening, nudging a glaring Damian behind you redirecting everyone’s stares towards you. It’s uncomfortable but you don’t mind. Damian huff behind you but doesn’t protest any more than that. You smile amicably or as amicably as you can. You need to remember the correct shape.  

Introductions go off without a hitch. 

 Jon, like always, has no trouble stirring the crowd. 

  You make an impression when your introduction careens into a tangent about angelfish.

 Behind you, Damian scoffs and  crosses his arms over his chest. Contrary to popular belief, Damian did have a tendency to be nervous, especially around new people. This is compounded by the fact that Damian wasn’t really versed in dealing with people his own age which just put him on edge. 

 Thankfully, all three of you get sorted into the same cabin. The cabin is chaotic in a familiar, childish sort of way with pillows flying everywhere and kids jumping up and down their bed. Jon immediately jumps into the fray. Damian follows soon after Jon hits him with a pillow square in the face. 

 “Woman up and face me, Kent!”

 You look up to the sky and smile in amusement.  This is going to be an interesting summer.

The room is solid. 

 Your eyes incandescent in the darkness. The air crackles in anticipation of the storm.  

 A silver streak of lightning tears down through the heavens and crashes down into the lake. 

 A strange dislocation in the universe has emerged.

 Your eyes shut. 

 Your ears pop. 

 You do not hear as something mangled rises from the water. 

You wanted to say this was a horrible idea. Though, you’re not sure how to phrase that without implying they’re idiots. You’ve been hanging out with Damian too much. He’s starting to rub off on you and you’re mildly concerned. 

 You’d told them that the whole fight was your fault. Ok, not entirely. You simply told the kid off when he was making fun of Jon and you were not gonna stand for that. The kid shoved you, Damian 'accidentally' broke his nose, and the next thing you know is that you’ve been shoved into a random group of campers.It’s been a week but you still weren’t familiar with a lot of the people in the camp. The man with kind eyes said this would be good for you.  You really would have preferred staying at the campgrounds, cleaning and doing whatever with the people in your cabin. 

 “Alright, kiddos, you guys can go swim while me and Jos go check something out in the woods.”

 “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t!”

 You sniff and bite your tongue, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

 "You sure they're gonna be ok?"

 "What you think they're gonna disappear like Cat?"

 Your ears perk up at this. 

 "Well, I mean-"

 "She probably just ran off with one of the town boys." 

 This was probably the best time to bring up child endangerment protocols or the fact that you’re not even dressed for swimming. By the time you string the correct combination of words,  they’re gone. You sigh and huddle yourself into a tree. It’s not like you’re dressed to swim anyway even if you wanted to. 

 You hug your knees as you flatten yourself against the tree, making sure your prosthetic limb is tucked beneath your normal one. You watch the others as they horse around looking like they’re really enjoying themselves. They probably didn’t realize you were there or did they even notice you join the group. Doesn’t matter really. Right now you would prefer to sit under the tree than risking your arm. Mr. Fox had explained that since it was still a prototype it was delicate. 

 “HEY!”

 You jump. Your skin feeling very confined. You turn to the voice. Jesse, you think. 

 “Sorry. Could you- can you say that again?”

 She rolls her eyes at you and you suddenly doubt the politeness of your speech but no you were pretty sure that was the correct way to say it. 

 “I said ‘can your arm go in the water?’.”

 Oh.

 “No?” You were half sure it couldn’t. You haven’t really tested it since it was easier to bathe without it. She gives you a skeptical look and yanks your arm towards her. You yelp. “Hey! What are you-” Your throat tightens when you find yourself at the dock. It’s shaky. The slightest shifting made it move. 

 You turn your heel mumbling an apology but your arm is yanked back. The grip is stronger now. You look back and see two people holding on to it. “Let go!” you say, trying to wrench yourself free. “It’s- it’s not a toy,” you add but they don’t budge.

 “You’re being a baby!”

 “C’mon (y/n)!”

 “Let’s see how well robots can swim!”

 You scream as they throw you into the water. 

 You thrash your limbs around, grasping for something, anything but all you can feel is the viscous emptiness deforming and reforming with every splash. 

 You cry out. 

 The water muffles your screams along with the distant sound of laughter and heckling. 

 Your mouth is filling with water.

 Your lungs. Your lungs are burning. 

 Your chest aches. 

 You can’t breathe. 

 Help!

 Help!

 Please!

 Someone!

 It hurts. 

 Your vision is pulsing. The edges are going dark. 

 Your limbs are going numb and falling to pieces. 

 The world is sinking. 

It’s so dark. 

 It’s too cold. 

 Why are you alone?

 Where are they?

 You don’t want to die like this. 

 .

.

.

.

.

.

You feel a large hand fish you out by the scruff of your shirt. It tosses you onto the shore; the force as you hit the ground knocks the air (water?) out of your lungs. You heave, gasping like a fish. A large silhouette hangs over you, cold dread licks up your spine but you note a lack of panic. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen. 

 Your vision comes back in pieces and by the time the world puzzles back together, you’re alone. You’re alone and shivering like a wet rat. You look around, brushing wet hair out of your eyes and you realize you’re not entirely sure of the way back. You curl in on yourself. It does nothing to warm you but you were desperate to feel whole and safe and ok. 

 You aren’t entirely sure how long it is before Jon and Damian find you or just how they managed it but you’re thankful when someone drapes a heavy towel over your head, muffling the scattered sounds around you. Shakily, you pull the towel over your face. It hides the tears well enough. Your loose hanging limbs tighten around you. You want to shrink, small enough to smooth over the trembling in your body. You know they’ve saved people from drowning before. They’ve saved people from far worse. Heck, they’ve been through far worse. You desperately don’t want them to think of you as weak, as less but here you were trembling. You’re unable to steady your own breathing. Frustration rises in the back of your throat. It is a welcome change from the nonstop medley of panic that’s been shoved on you. 

 A hand settles itself on your head, the movement stiff, light, and controlled. The pressure increases a touch when you don’t protest. Damian radiates awkwardness as he attempts to ruffle your still-damp hair. You smile up at him through damp hair. Damian simply grunts as he continues to avoid eye contact by staring out at the empty lake. 

 Jon plops down next to you kicking his feet out in front of him. He gives your space but he’s just close enough for you to lean against if you wanted to. On his shoulder was your ratty oversized hoodie. You tug at his sleeve to ask for it. He hands it to you. You slip it on, not caring that you were still soggy. The familiar, loose weight of fabric against your skin made you feel whole and safe and marginally ok. 

 Jon presses a hand onto your back mimicking the experimental way Damian had patted your damp hair. He listens to the steadying rhythm of your heart, his own easing back into a calmer rhythm. Damian raises a brow at him and he gives him a thumbs up. Damian’s shoulders loosen and Jon can’t help the snort that comes out of him. You look at him startled and Damian gives him the ol’ Damian glare which makes him laugh out loud. Your eyes flicker to Damian and then roll your eyes, crow's feet wrinkling in the corners of your eyes. You twist your mouth into a weird squiggly line in an attempt to smother a laugh in fear of incurring Damian’s wrath. Jon highly doubts you’d be able to. Damian was, in fact, a big old softie. Sure, he acts grumpy all the time but spending so much time with both Dick and Faust has made him pretty mushy by bat standards but Jon wouldn’t dare say that out loud, at least, not when Damian looked this close to throwing him into the water. 

 You spend a long time soaking up the quiet before heading back. Jon slings an arm around you but pulls it back when he hears your heart stutter. You pinch and tug at his sleeve and mumble an apology.  You see Damian shoot Jon his version of the Pennyworth look. 

 “Sorry, (y/n).”

 “‘S ok,” you rasp quietly. 

 You three walk along the shore towards the cap. You feel too tired to even blanch at the odd feeling of wet socks as you pad along the path. You walk in silence which is interrupted by a bird call here and there with either you or Jon occasionally asking Damian to translate. He does but for some reason some odd reason, they keep calling you idiot or imbeciles. You watch Damian’s eyes flick here and there. You know he feels it too. The odd feeling of being watched. The rustle of leaves echoes eerily in the stillness. 

 The counselors, mercifully, let you skip out on the rest of the afternoon’s activities. You curl up in your cabin, warm and very comfortable in the pool of fabric created by one of Mr. Kent’s hoodies which Jon ‘accidentally’ packed. You rolled your eyes at him but accepted it gratefully. You make a mental note to thank him with the mill house cookies you ‘accidentally’ bought at one of the rest stops. 

 You flip through the yellowing pages of the book in your hand. You aren’t quite sure how to describe how inappropriate it is to give a drowning victim a book on the complete works of H.P. Lovecraft. Then again, it was better than reading Moby Dick. Plus, you’re enjoying yourself trying to find a man who is about as stealthy as a Green Lantern. You’ll have to ask Damian or Jon. Damian’s more likely to have met a Green Lantern but he’s also more likely to give you a boring and entirely inaccurate answer. 

 You go back to the fish people. Do Atlanteans walk like that? Maybe.  It feels odd somehow moving around without your prosthetic limb. Lighter but infinitely more unstable.  

 “Do you think they’ll find Cat?”

 Your ears perk up. Your eyes flick to the window and you see two counselors leaning against another cabin. You shuffle awkwardly somehow moving the mass of cloth quietly. You squish against the wall making sure they can’t see you. 

 “Cat just ran off. You know how she is.”

 “That’s what Raz said.”

 “Yeah, where is he?”

 “Who knows he’s probably just fucking around in the woods. Doing Bear Grylls shit or something.”

 “Hope he comes back soon.”

 “Do you really wanna deal with that horny jackass?”

 “No but he’s the only decent cook. Do you really wanna taste what awful concoction Ratty has for us?”

 Your stomach curdles remembering Ratty’s terrible improvisation of Doro Wat. Ratty said it was their grandmother’s recipe but you doubted it. Unlike the one Jason made for you one time, it was bland. It wasn’t even close to spicy. The vegetables were overcooked while the chicken was somehow undercooked. In short, you had nearly died twice since you got here. 

 “Nope. I’d rather starve. Isn’t their cooking like a human rights violation?”

 Starvation would be a kinder death. 

 “Yeah. Anyway, I tried asking Jos. Apparently, Raz and a bunch of the other Lil shits have been fucking around in town.”

 “Is that where Jackie disappeared to?”

 “Probably.”

 Ok, so the counselors have been dropping like flies and you have yet to notice. You should probably tell Damian and Jon. Something about this seems wrong. 

“Are you ever gonna stop glaring at them?” you ask, plopping on to the log letting your empty sleeve hang loosely off to your side. 

 “Depends, have they apologized?”

 “Ye-”

 “Sincerely?”

 “Well-”

 “Then no.”

 “Ok, but does Jon have to pout at them?”

 “I’m not pouting!”

 “Wait… That’s your glare?”

 “Yeah?” Jons says furrowing his brow. 

 “Batcow’s given me better glares!”

 “Again, (l/n) is right.”

 “Thank you!”

 “Dami, who’s side are you on?”

 Damian’s lips curl into a cat-like smile, the kind you saw on Selina. “Justice.”

 Jon throws his hands up defeated. You give Damian a low five as he settles beside you. Jon takes the seat on your other side still pouting. 

 "Do you kids know the rules to surviving a horror movie?" 

 The chattering dies down and you all fall silent, turning your full attention to the counselor. Your counselor lets out an absolutely delighted squeal, clapping their hands. You don’t miss the absolute dread on your other counselor’s face. 

 “Ok so, rule 1: Be a virgin-”

 “Ratty!” Dawes, the counselor with dread on her face, squeaks elbowing Ratty, Ratchet. “Couldn’t you have worded it differently or you know, not at all?!” Ratty, the horror enthusiast counselor, rubs their arm and sticks their tongue out at Dawes who looks like she’s going to age ten years during this conversation. 

 If you thought Dawes was pale before, she nearly turns transparent with the next few words that leave your mouth. “What’s a virgin?” you blurt out. You desperately want to curl in on yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t know. It was just your mouth runs faster than your mind.  The kids around you snicker and one of the boys behind you claps you on the shoulder, laughing loudly. You lean on Damian, hiding behind him slightly. Damian shifts so he’s shielding you more.

 Dawes sputters out her answer.  It’s hard to understand. You watch the others searching for clues for an appropriate reaction. 

 “It’s a person who’s never had intercourse,” Damian deadpans and you nod quietly. 

 Dawes’ face lights up like a Christmas tree while Ratty’s twists into pure joy. Damian rolls his eyes as the other kids laugh even louder. It takes a moment but your cheeks heat up realizing the gap in your reaction must have given them the wrong idea. You pinch the bridge of your nose and you sigh. You see Jon snort at you and you stick your tongue out at him. 

 “See, Dawes, they know.”

 “What about keeping them innocent?!” 

  “I’m not getting paid to do that,” Dawes drags her hand over her face as Ratty shrugs,” ’sides, this is life skills.” Dawes slaps Ratty on the shoulder again making them whine at the impact.  “Ok. Ok. Fine. Fine. Jeez, you hit like a son of a- Oh wait, have any of you heard about Camp Blood?”

 This gets you all to quiet down. 

 “Camp Blood? Isn’t that like a video game?”  

 “It’s like a local ghost story isn’t it?”

 “Wasn’t that the one with the fish-”

 “It’s not the fish people.”

 “Let me tell the story!”

 “Ratty, you never tell the story well. You keep making weird voices and you can’t even keep a straight face.”

 “SLANDER,” Ratty shouts, throwing up their hands. 

 “Pffft, you also gonna tell us you can cook a 5-star meal?”

 “Ok. Ok. Fine. I’ll just tell it to them straight.”

 “What? As straight as Dawes?”

 “Pffft, we’d go in circles.”

 “Hey!”

 “It’s true!”

 “You don’t have to say it.”

 “What’s the thing about Camp Blood?” Jon pipes, putting a hand over Damian’s mouth probably sensing the sharp remark he’s about to say. Damian licks his hand and Jon pulls away waving his hand like he’s been burned.  You snort then blanch when Jon rubs the spit on to your hoodie. 

 “Gather round children-”

 “Ratty, they’re in a circle get on with it.”

 “I AM TRYING TO SET THE MOOD.”

 “Jesus, ok. So, a looong time ago there was this kid named Jason Voorhes. When two counselors were fu- OW! Jeez, Dawes- Ow! Ok, fine. While two counselors were distracted, he drowned-”

 “Sounds familiar,” snipes Damian. An apologetic look crosses Dawes’ face, a confused one on Ratty’s, and sheepish one on Jos’. You squeeze his and Jon’s shoulders. 

 Ratty shakes their head. “Anyway, they never find the body so his mom comes back and hacks the new counselors into pieces as some soft of demented justice for her kid.”

 “That’s a bit of an overreaction,” Jos laughs awkwardly. The glares on them do not waver. You elbow Damian and kick Jon’s foot. Damian ignores you while Jon gives you a look of mock hurt.  You roll your eyes at him and attempt to elbow Damian a second time. Again, nothing.

 “The thing is one of the counselors actually manages to decapitate Mrs. Voorhees. She disappeared two months after though. Legend has it that Jason still roams the grounds of Camp Blood seeking revenge for his mother.”

 The air is humming, thick with the roll of thunder and  the premonition of a storm. 

 There is a dislocation in the universe. 

 Your ears pop. 

 You look at Jon who looks vaguely like his mother when she’s sniffed out a story. You look at Damian who is already sussing out every detail of the story. Your eyes meet and you all nod. 

“It has to be someone using the urban legend as some sort of cover. Or! Or maybe they’re using the urban legend to mythologize their killings,” you say, through a mouth full of contraband chocolate chip cookies. 

 Damian snatches the package from you taking a piece.“(l/n), that’s ridiculous-”

 “Yeah, we don’t even know if they’re dead yet,” Jon protests, snatching the bag from a scowling Damian. 

 “What are the odds they’re still alive?” 

 You all fall silent. “We assume they’re still alive until we see proof of the contrary,” Damian says firmly. You and Jon nod. The movement feels heavy.  

 “But what if the Jason ghost is a real thing?”

 “Possible.”

 “(l/n), don’t indulge him.”

 “Jon is literally part alien,” you protest

 “Jason has come back from the dead and Faust literally has moving tattoos,” Jon adds.

 “YOUR DAD IS LITERALLY BEST FRIENDS WITH A 5000-YEAR-OLD AMAZONIAN AND A DUDE WHO CAN LIFT BUILDINGS.”

 “Ok, fine but we should eliminate the more mundane explanations first,” Damian concedes accepting another cookie. 

 “I think we have. It’s too rapid and obvious to be a human trafficking operation.”

 “We should find the counselors first.”

 “Yeah, that’s a start.”

 “Where should we start?”

 “Abandoned cabins would be a good start,” you suggest trying not to perk up. 

 Damian glares at you and you wither. “(l/n), you’re not coming with us.”

 “You say this like (y/n)’s gonna listen,” Jon laughs. 

 “ET has a point,” you say, grinning and opening another packet. You offer Jon the first cookie as thanks. 

 “Can’t I at least be a cool alien?”

 “Nope.”

 “Will you two focus?”

 “Yeah. No.”

 Damian pinches his nose. You completely understand why people think Damian makes a convincing fifty year old. “(l/n)...”

 “Ok, fiiiine. I’ll stay out of it.”

 “Don’t even think about sneaking out.”

 You frown and nod. 

 You tiptoe through the brush, one metallic arm wrapped around you, the other hanging limply to your side flashlight clasped tight in your metallic hand.  Camp Blood isn’t too far. You silently survey a few cabins finding nothing particularly interesting aside from cobwebs and potentially dead animals. The air is musty and decayed. You sniff and rub your nose as you walk through the camp guided only by strips of moonlight. If you were to run into a murderer now, you would only have your flashlight to defend you. You didn’t like those odds. 

 You’re a deer in headlights. 

 Dry mouth. 

 Skin going cold. 

 A scream burbling in the back of your throat. 

 The lumbering figure is coming closer. 

 You know he can see you. 

 Your feet are fused to the ground. 

 The light of the machete winking at you from a distance. 

 The world turns into a blur when your back hits the rotting wood of the abandoned cabin. 

 “What did I say about sneaking out?” Damian hisses, arm pressed on your neck. You blink. A flood of relief crowds your chest. 

 You sling your arms around him and he stiffens. You explain away the surprised little yelp as something animal and not something from your friend. “I didn’t sneak out. I went to the bathroom then I wandered off,” you mumble. 

 “How exactly is that different?” 

 “Less tiptoeing.” 

 "Funny."

 "It is."

 "Have you seen Kent?"

 "Sadly no."

 "Shit- Don't tell Grayson."

 "The fact that you swore or the fact that you somehow lost Superman's kid" 

 He glares at you and you can't help but shrug. 

 "Both." 

 "Fair," you say, pausing for half a breath.”Did you find the hostages?”

 Damian’s face falls then hardens then you know better than to ask him.  

 “We should find Jon,” Damian says finally. You flick your eyes and shake your head pushing down the urge to make fun of his slip. You’ll tell Jon later. 

 You two walk together, shoes in hand. It was easier. Maybe after this, you’ll ask Tim to teach you how to sneak around. 

 The sound of crashing wood fills the still night air. You and Damian freeze. 

 “JON.” Damian is the first to launch himself towards a cabin. You shamble behind him, plodding through the muddy earth as fat droplets of rain splashing down.   You would have blanched at the squishing but all you could think about was Jon.  

“Jon!”

 “Dami! (y/n)!”

 “Are you ok?”

 “I’m in a hole. What do you think?”

 You look him over as best you can in the dark. Damian seems to be having a better time. “You’re not in pain, so yeah.”

 Jon huffs, shifting around in the pile of clothes. His nose wrinkles.“This jumper smells like something died in it," he says holding up a particularly old looking sweater. It's blotchy with various stains around the neck. 

 “Check for a pulse!” you shout, earning a sharp jab to the rib from Damian. You glare and rub your chest.

“Guys, I don’t wanna alarm you but I’m pretty sure there’s a decapitated head down here”

 “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Damian asks incredulously. Your skin drains of all color and warmth. 

 “Do you want the good news or bad news?”

 “That’s not-”

 “Where in that pile of bloody clothes did you get good news?”

 “Good news is he’s not here,” Jon says, eyes sweeping around.”Bad news, he’s actually real.”

 “Stop messing around and get out of there, Kent!”

 “Jon, come on! Fly or something!”

 “My powers are going-” Jon jumps. But only manage to just fall back down. “I can’t fly.”

 Damian groans. He pinches his nose and goes off to look for something to pull Jon up with.

 “Why do you think your powers aren’t working?”

 Jon shrugs. “Magic?” This place is cursed. 

 “We are dealing with a ghost,” you shrug back. You all freeze. The sound of distant footsteps making your heart race.

 “Dami!” you hiss, over your shoulder. 

 “I can’t find anything!”   

 “Wait,” you say, unfastening your arm and reaching down to Jon. Damian grabs hold of it with both hands and you two start pulling Jon up. 

 The footsteps are getting louder, closer. 

 "Hurry!" you hiss quietly. 

 Your hearts are racing. 

 You pull, Jon getting closer. 

 He’s almost in arm’s reach. 

 The man is getting closer. 

 You can hear his breathing. 

 You pull Jon up, feet kicking. You wrestle him into a hug with one arm, making a little happy squeal into his hair low enough that only they can hear. Damian nudges you with your arm. 

 “Well that was scary,” Jon whispers into your shoulder. Damian smacks him upside the head. You laugh but cut yourself off when you see Damian stiffen. “RUN!”

 You all scramble up and begin to dash away. You look back over your shoulder, machete winking at you, hockey mask visible in the dim light. 

 You stumble, feet getting tangled in roots. You yelp,  bracing for impact and possibly dying.  You feel arms scoop you up. You squeak. “No one gets left behind, soldier,” Jon says grinning. 

 “How are you still a goof when we’re about to die?” you laugh incredulously. 

 “He clearly gets it from his father.”

 “ Pfffft, probably or maybe it's an alien thing.”

 “Are you really gonna make fun of me, right now?” Jon protests, shouting over the rain. 

 “You two! This way!” Damian points to a small hole in the hillside.

 “I’m too tall for that!” Damian glares.

 You snort. “Just duck.” Jon scowls at you then sighed. 

 You all slide into a small crevice and hunched together. 

 “What’s the plan?”

 “Jon, are your powers working?”

 “Kind of?”

 “Ok, that’s one thing we have going for us,” Damian hands you a phone. "You call while we distract him." 

 "Why do you have to distract him?" 

 "Ask him yourself, (l/n)."

 Your eyes sweep up to the tall figure. Your mouth goes completely dry. 

 "Fuck." 

 Jason brings his machete down in a swift arc light. You grab Damian by the scruff of his shirt. The machete embeds itself into the wall, getting caught in the process. Your moment of relief doesn’t last long when Jason lunges for you.  You scream as he catches your arm. With a soft click it detaches and you scramble away and out the hole into the pouring rain. He’s hot on your heels. You hear a loud thud. You look over your shoulder. Jon’s resting against the wall, head slumped. You see him throw Damian to the ground. You call 9-11 as you hurl your shoe at him. The dial tone is ringing. When you look up again, Jason is heading towards you. You stumble barefoot trying to get away. Predictably, you fall, foot catching on another tangle of roots.  

  “Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there?”

 “Please help,” you whisper as Jason raises your arm to the sky. Your life flashes through like a film reel. Your breath is caught. Lightning flashes. 

 You watch the lightning cut through the heavens. The silver streak of light connecting might your arm and by extension Jason.  The arm explodes. Shrapnel flies everywhere. Jason bursts into flames. The smell of burning flesh cutting through the air. You watch in open-mouthed horror as another bolt of lightning hits. He falls body fried to a crisp. You wretch the smell still strong. 

 "Kid! Kid! Are you ok?" 

 "No…" you gasp, bile lining the back of your throat, "please,hurry. We're at Camp Blood." 

You’re cold and wet and forced to huddle into one blanket since the officer who responded only had one on hand.  Damian is talking on the phone. It’s hard to make out amidst the pouring rain, so you settle in letting Jon rest his head on your shoulder as he drifts to sleep. The officer said the rest of the force is coming to collect the bodies. The camp is most likely gonna be shut down for the summer. You weren’t keen on spending the entire summer with your cousins. 

 “I’ve informed father that you’re staying with us for the rest of the summer.”

 “Informed?” you laugh, relieved, ”good luck telling Jon that.”

 You both eye him. Jon snores into your ear and you can’t help but smile. “He’ll be fine.”

   Bonus

 The map in Jon’s hands crinkles loudly as he shuffles through it trying to find the correct route. You know the route. You memorized it before you even set off. You did it instead of studying for finals. It was certainly more entertaining than studying for a US history final when you already knew it was just gonna be about the American Revolution, World War II, and probably the Vietnam war. You hold back the snicker threatening to spill from your lips when, with each crinkle of the Dollar Store map, Damian’s brow twitched. Yes, this was the purpose of the map. It was most certainly doing its job well. 

 “You think they’ll still have the same dumb camp activities?”

 “You say this like you weren’t squealing to try all of them.”

 “Was not!”

 “Dunno,  Jon,  Dami has a pretty good memory.”

 Your car rolls to a stop in front of a cross-section. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel before you let curiosity override your self-preservation. 

 “How did you convince Dami to come along?”

 Jon tilts his head at you in question. “I didn’t,” he says slowly, “I thought you did.”

 Your passenger goes deadly silent. You both twist your bodies to look at him. Jon gives him a knowing smile while you give him a reassuring one that says ‘it’s ok you can tell us’. Damian avoids all eye contact like the plague, glaring at the window like there’s a particularly interesting speck of dust on it.  

 His eyes narrow. And you have the odd urge to follow his gaze. 

 The trees shift. 

 The pressure in the car builds. 

 Jon’s laughter stalls. 

 A shape flickers in the distance. 

 Your ears pop. 

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

a/n: THANKS FOR READING! Yes, reader has a prosthetic limb because I was reading 3 birds. Also, this can be treated as pre-slash. Epilogue is up for interpretation. Probably. Also fun fact, Faust is the basis for merc reader. I could not resist putting her in. 

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

[hardskz]

indulge.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x genderneutral! reader

genre — smut; dirty talk, masturbation, choking, praise kink, master kink, hand kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hard dom!hyunjin

synopsis — after avoiding hyunjin for weeks because you got off whilst imagining his face, he’s making it clear that you haven’t been the most subtle one when staring at him. alternatively, 5.5k words of hyunjin being a cocky little fucker.

note — today marks the one month anniversary of this tragedy of a blog, so here’s my gift to you all thank you for supporting me <3 please enjoy this pwp monster! i tried to make the reader genderneutral since the original request used they/them pronouns and fuck it was a challenge and idk if it’ll ever do that again. (writing porn without using the words dick or clit or good boy/girl when referring to the reader is hard i dare you and i cringed writing this out kms) in any case, the reader is a bottom in this fic!

Having a crush on your friend’s bandmate is one thing. Being attracted to said bandmate to the point where your underwear grows damp just by looking at him (in real life and on the internet) is something entirely worse.

It’s in the middle of the night when you wake up with your heart pounding against your chest and sweat trickling down your back beneath the loose t-shirt. Your wet dreams have been appearing a fuck times too often and feature the same person over and over again to your dismay. You’re lucky you’re the only one in the house over the weekend because you don’t necessarily want your moaning at 3 AM to be the main topic during breakfast.

Hoping to cool down while recalling the many times Minho has complained about one of his cats pissing on the couch isn’t working this time. In retrospect, thinking about Minho’s weird cat antics in an attempt to get out of the mood has never been completely effective for the past three months. Sure, picturing your best friend ranting with his mouth full of half-chewed Cheetos and getting some crumbs on your lap is a definite turn-off, but the needy wish of getting dicked by a particular bandmate of his still lingers.

It’s been three months since you realized that the horny part of your brain has stopped projecting different guys out of your mental archive of masturbation-material faces. Instead, it casts one incredibly handsome — he’s so handsome he should be illegal at this point, you decide — person in your mind. Every. Fucking. Time.

You’ve been trying to erase him out of your head, but perhaps it wasn’t your brightest idea when you tried searching for a new figure to replace him with a clear vision in mind. It took you approximately two weeks to realize that you were looking for someone with long and nimble fingers and plump lips and just everything that Hwang Hyunjin is.

Because of knowing that fucker named Hyunjin in person, you haven’t had any sexual release for the past three months. Again, it’s one thing to have a crush on your friend’s bandmate, but it’s a completely different thing when you get off on said bandmate and then have to face him every week and pretend like nothing’s wrong. You’re bound to see him at least once a week because Minho always forces you to be the judge of the group’s new choreography because it’s, quote Minho, “crucial to getting the opinion from an outsider.” And that although he knows you’re far from a dancer. (You’ve taken one single dance class because he hauled your ass to his studio before he became a trainee and ever since, you haven’t stepped a foot into the dance studio.)

You see Hyunjin more often than compared to the remaining members of the group. Because of fucking course, he’s part of the dance line and also contributes into making the choreography, so it shouldn’t be so surprising that he’s started to act comfortably around you. To your horror, him acting comfortably also includes being touchy. That being said, he’s developed a habit of throwing an arm around your shoulder or pinching your cheeks to spite you alongside Minho. It’s only a matter of time until you have no other choice but to give in because Hyunjin is getting more casual by the day. Then again, you’re holding off because you don’t want to have a bad conscience and—

Fuck it.

You hesitantly bunch your blanket to the side and slip a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear, shuddering at the slightest pressure and opening your mouth to let out a silent gasp. Fucking hell, three months of no touching has made you so sensitive. You try to take it slow, carefully ghosting around your weak spots as you graze your other hand over the inside of your thighs, a mewl leaving your mouth.

A wet patch has formed in your underwear and you’re leaking so much that it’s enough to coat two fingers in slick. By then, your body has switched to autopilot and before you can process it, a finger prods at your entrance and that’s when you realize there’s no use in beginning slowly but surely.

You pump your finger in and out of you at a slower pace and your body’s reacting to it astoundingly sensitive to your ministrations. Your hips buck up into the air in the hopes of more friction and muffled curses fly out of your mouth without intervention. All sense of reason flies out the window when you curl your finger and graze your sweet spot. At this point, you’re already imagining it’s Hyunjin’s finger teasing you, Hyunjin watching your squirming form with hungry eyes and knowing that you’re at the brink of begging him to hit your spot.

Once you’re fixated on Hyunjin, you don’t hold back any longer. You get rid of your underwear completely and then slip a second finger in, whimpering at the stretch. It’s been so long, way too long of having last felt this way and when you start scissoring your fingers, you can’t help but bring “Hyunjin, f-fuck,” past your lips. Why the fuck did you sentence yourself to a masturbating-to-Hyunjn prohibition in the first place? It feels so much better now that Hyunjin’s name spills out of your mouth like a prayer.

With every passing second, your movements grow more frantic. The sound of skin slapping and slick squelching in you and your ragged breath resound within your four walls. The bed starts to creak a little, the blanket has somehow found its way to the cold floor and all you can think about is an imaginary Hyunjin fingering you in a moderate tempo and reminding you how wet you are for him and how well you’re doing.

Your imagination is running wild to the point of no return. You’re imagining Hyunjin’s forehead covered in sweat as he fucks you over with his hands, imagining his bangs falling above his eyes, imagining his tongue hungrily running over his plump, pink lips as he stares down at you. He’d smile amusedly at your whines, would coo about how much he loves hearing you so vocal and then mark you up in purple bruises. As much as he’d want to let everyone see the hickeys he planted on you, he’d know better and settle for your thighs, forcing you to keep them spread out for him. And even then, you wouldn’t be allowed to cum unless he gives you the green light.

“P-please, Hyunjin—” you whimper as you sense your high approaching and your fingers speed up. The sensation is becoming too much to handle, the idea of Hyunjin looking down at your with a coy smile and mumbling profanities as he rams his long, slender fingers into you and abuses your spot without a break. You’re not entirely sure what he’d say, but you’re sure that whatever it is, it’s downright filthy and sexy and affecting you more than he’d initially expect.

“Please, Hyunjin, I’m gonna… f-fu-u-uuck… I’m gonna—”

Hyunjin is a cocky little fucker who thrives on control, so he’d pull out and grin at you wickedly, continuing to leave marks on your thighs and restraining your hands from touching yourself. Your cry comes out louder than intended as you do so and you keep your legs spread apart, breath hitching as the cool air hits you bare.

Hyunjin is a kinky piece of shit who loves power. He’s also pretty damn aware of how nice and big his hands are, and you can’t help but want the feeling of his hand wrapped around your neck and his fingers in your mouth. He’d be so fucking smug, waiting for you to get teary-eyed and thrash around pathetically before he lets you indulge.

“I’ll be good for you, just— please—” your voice cracks towards the end and you turn your head to the side to bury your face into the pillow, muffling out your moans when you slowly finger yourself again, trembling legs still spread apart. “Fuck, Hyunjin, please let me cum!”

“Mmh, cum for me,” you imagine him rasping between low groans, a smug smirk etched on his face. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pick up your pace, fingers drilling into you in an abusing manner and your body jolts up. You’re too far gone to control your voice, high-pitched moans and sobs and broken cries of his name bounce off the not-so soundproof walls, but holy fuck, you needed this so badly. Although Hyunjin would bathe in your sounds, his superiority kink would be fed even more once he shoves down his free fingers in your mouth and burns your tear-stained face in the back of his mind. That’s definitely something he’d do, so you shove three fingers into your mouth, imagining they were his. You whine at the thought of him tapping your tongue, a silent order to suck.

When you cum, it’s with a broken sob and Hyunjin’s satisfied grin in mind. Your body is trembling from the wave of pleasure flooding over you, mind hazy from the excessive stimulation. Three months of sexual frustration, you’re riding out three months worth of sexual frustration, so you don’t give a fuck about the drool running down your chin, tears staining your cheeks or the fact that your bedding is now sticky in cum and sweat. As you slowly come down from your high, you wipe off your hand on your shirt and try to catch your breath, eyes staring at the ceiling.

Well, you’re fucked. You finally committed the sin of masturbating to Hyunjin. You’re still basking in your moment of bliss and thus, you don’t care about the aftermath for now. But tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow you’ll regret what you just did. You just hope the regret won’t follow you strongly for the rest of your life.

Four weeks later and you’re still regretting it.

Nothing has changed so far; Minho still spams your inbox when you’re not yet in the practice room to review a choreography even though you still have ten minutes to get there, and Hyunjin still casually throws an arm around your shoulder and buries his face into the crook of your neck when he’s exhausted and not too sweaty.

Nothing has changed so far except that so much has changed.

Obviously, you can’t avoid Hyunjin like the plague — even though that idea sounds fucking genius — but you’re trying to keep a distance from him. You’ve started avoiding his gaze, giving curt answers when he asks you if anything is wrong (“Why should it be? Everything’s peachy!” God Gracious, who the fuck uses the word peachy?) and always find an excuse to run away when you sense that he’s about to start a longer conversation (“Did you hear that? I should go help Felix!”).

You arrive at the practice room ten minutes later than usual due to the traffic jam and immediately slip out of your new shoes once the door slams shut. Fucking hell, you really should’ve worn those out first. “Minho, don’t even dare to bitch around, my feet hurt and it’s currently rush hour and the last thing I need is you breathing down my…” your voice trails off when you look up and only see Hyunjin raising a brow at you.

Oh. Fuck.

“Where are Minho and Felix?” you ask, realizing that you two are the only ones in the room. You try not to stare too much at his defined arms or plump lips or just the fact that he’s dressed in loose pants and a sleeveless shirt.

“Hello to you too,” Hyunjin scowls and walks towards your direction to put his half-empty water bottle back on the table. “Chan is treating them to hotpot. Well, he invited all of us but I really need to perfect this move, so I passed.”

“So that’s why Minho didn’t send me twenty voicemails today for being late, huh. And I can’t believe you passed on free food. Anyway—” you attempt to quickly slip your feet back into your uncomfortable sneakers. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, I’ll get going then—”

Before you know it, Hyunjin grips your wrist forcefully and cuts you off with a pout. “I still need someone to review my dance, though. Don’t you wanna keep me company?”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine and blink slowly. “Uh, you do know that I have no fucking clue about dancing.”

“(y/n), that’s not an answer to my question. Am I really that unbearable?”

“What? Of course not! I just don’t see how much of a help I can be here.”

His pout morphs into a smug smile. It’s as if he knows, but you can’t quite decipher what exactly. The grip on your wrist tightens to the point where you should be worried about your blood circulation but instead, you’re enjoying the long, calloused fingers on your skin.

“Then let me ask you something else. Do I ever cross your mind?” Hyunjin’s tone is light and melodic, but the underlying catch is hard to miss. You gulp, suddenly wanting Minho to appear out of nowhere and begin his speech about why the fuck cats deserve rights and are superior to the human race. The sudden mood shift grows insufferable as you slowly try to pull away. However, Hyunjin is persistent and never lets go and invades your personal bubble. That’s when you find your voice again. It’s small and shaky but it’s something.

“Hyunjin, you’re not making any sense—”

“Do you think about me? Dream about me?” you pale at the accusation. He knows. The smile on his face widens in victory. “Bingo.”

And just like that, he pushes you against the door before letting go of you. Now, you could run out of the room, the door handle is just a few inches away, but Hyunjin is strong and fast and there’s no way that you’d succeed in escaping. Not knowing what else to do without feeling as if you want the ground to swallow you whole, you just stand stiffly. Hyunjin laughs through his nose and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“C’mon, we both saw this coming.”

“Really?” you squeak, trembling at his presence. If only he leaned into you a little more, you’d feel his breath prickling your skin. “I-I mean, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really,” he sighs and then slams a hand against the door, right next to your face, the impact so loud that your body jolts. “Then please explain why you’ve been avoiding me as if I were carrying a contagious disease but then proceed to eye-fuck me when I turn my back to you. I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me and honestly, it’s so cute but also so, so naive of you to think that I’m blind. You do know that this room is full of mirrors, right?”

Your eyes widen in fear. “W-what are you trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m intrigued by you. No, scrap that — I want you. I want to tear you apart. I want you to scream my name. I want you crying as you take my cock up to the hilt. I want a lot of things, so much more than you can imagine, but that’s not the point. Remember, I asked you a question: do I ever cross your mind?”

He reaches for your chin with his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. Albeit firm, his grip isn’t too harsh so that you can nod in response.

“Obviously,” he says casually, “I wanna know more though. Give me the gory details.”

You inhale sharply. Fucking hell. No. No. No. It’s already embarrassing enough that Hyunjin has noticed you mentally undressing him the entire time and you’re not going down the rabbit hole of “telling him all of the kinky shit you’ve imagined him do to you and potentially making your fantasies come true”.

Hyunjin makes a sad face, but his voice just drips in shameless glee. “I guess I’ll have to force you then. Didn’t peg you as a brat, but I can work with that too.”

“I’m not a—”

Before you finish wording out your complete thought, Hyunjin grabs you by the collar and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and devoid of care or emotion, but it leaves you boiling hot and dizzy. Hyunjin knows no boundaries and slings one arm around your waist to draw you closer to him, the other hand resting at the back of your neck. He’s kissing you feverishly like a man starved, forces his tongue into your mouth and doesn’t give you any chance to pull away and breathe. Meanwhile, your hands find their way to his head and tug on strands of pitch-black hair. It’s a weak attempt to break off the kiss, but it just elicits a groan out of the back of his throat.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. Catching your breath, you somehow manage to stumble all the way to the back of the room. Hyunjin pushes you onto the semi-comfortable couch before he starts to kiss you again, breaking it off once to discard his shirt. At the sight of his defined abs (you’re finally seeing them in person and not in shitty LQ pictures that a fan took during a concert, thank you God), you suppress the need to run your hands over them.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” he rasps with a grin before he latches for another uncoordinated liplock. Saliva is dripping down from the corner of your lips, but neither of you seems to care.

Eventually, his hands start to roam your body, undoing the buttons of your shirt before sliding it off your shoulders and throwing it into a corner. He detaches his lips from you and before you can complain, he leans down to suck on the patch of skin below your collarbone. A shaky moan escapes your mouth and you throw your head back, whimpering when he begins to bite. Perhaps you got that partially right. Hyunjin loves to mark, just in dangerous areas to your dismay. One slip up and people are going to see the bruises.

His hands begin to wander lower and lower. They’re halfway undoing the zipper when you sob at the faintest amount of pressure and weep, “Stop stop, Hyunjin— stop!”

He stops in his tracks and looks up at you, clearly impatient. “What?”

“I’m, u-uh, I’m really sensitive, okay?” you feel the blood rush to your cheeks when you say it out loud. “I haven’t got dicked in a while and also haven’t been, uh, touching myself, so uh…”

“Why the fuck not?”

“B-because the last time I touched myself, I’ve been thinking about you!”

“So you got off on… me?”

Hyunjin looks so fucking smug, so satisfied, and you’re pretty damn sure it’s not a trick of the light and his eyes really turned a shade darker. Yeah, that superiority kink? You were right on that, he definitely loves to bask in power.

“Yes, I did. Happy? As I was saying, I’m really fucking sensitive right now, especially my thighs, so don’t—” Hyunjin quickly zips down the rest, applying pressure in all the right places and when he strips off the jeans, he makes sure that his knuckles graze your inner thighs, “d-don’t do shit like this— oh f-fuck, Hyunjin!”

“Yeah, I don’t fucking care.” he shrugs and your pants to God knows where. “By the way, I cut you off before. What did you want to say? You’re not a…?”

“I’m not a brat.”

“You sure do act like one,” he says and adds after a moment of contemplation, “Tell you this. You tell me exactly what you imagined me to do when you touched yourself and I’ll see for myself if you’re really not a brat.”

“What?”

“I wanna know what you want me to do to you. You wanna be good for me, don’t you? Then tell me.”

“You were… I— wait, someone might come in—”

“The practice room is booked for us for another hour. Now go on, I’m listening.”

You squirm when his fingers ghost over the inside of your thighs. Any attempts to move away prove themselves futile as Hyunjin plants you onto the couch with his free hand on your hip. “You had— hhhh. o-oh fuck— your fingers in my mouth, told me to suck and— a-aaa-ah— fingered me then…”

He hums appreciatively before releasing the grip on your hip and violently shoving three fingers into your mouth. His fingers are longer than you expected and you close your eyes in bliss as you earnestly suck on them. Eventually, he starts thrusting them in and out of you, tempo getting faster with every movement and you almost gag when he reaches further into your mouth than you ever could with your own. “Baby, you should see yourself. You look so pretty like this.”

When you moan around his fingers, he snickers. “Do you like it when I praise you? We haven’t even started and you’re already doing so well.”

The disappointment you feel when he pulls out is quickly replaced by even greater pleasure when he presses his thumb directly over the wet patch on your underwear. Hyunjin’s not even applying a lot of pressure, but you’re already at the brink of screaming. “So sensitive for me. Fuck, that’s so hot. So sensitive for me and only me,” he hisses while pulling your panties down.

The direct contact of his spit-covered finger just grazing your entrance sends you into overdrive. Even you yourself didn’t expect to be this hypersensitive to everything he does. You’re growing more vocal by the second and slap an arm in front of your mouth to muffle your sounds. However, he’s not having it and chastises, “Stop that. I want to hear your voice. Don’t hold back.”

You shiver at the authority in his tone and before your brain fully processed it, both of your hands are gripping the armrest as if it were your lifeline, the moans coming out of your mouth unfiltered. Hyunjin smirks. “That’s it, baby. Moan louder for me so that everyone in this building could hear you if the walls weren’t fucking soundproof.”

“Hyunjin, don’t tease me, please!” you shake violently, craving more than what he’s currently giving you. His little touches are too much yet not enough at the same time. Partly frustrated and partly needy, your sobs grow more uncontrolled and tears are already forming in your glassy eyes.

But no, Hyunjin is a cocky little shit who loves the sight of you struggling.

“Hm? But I like seeing you squirm like this. How long is it going to take until you start crying properly?”

“I knew it! I knew you’d be like this!” you cry accusingly, “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Why don’t you do anything against it, then? You’re holding back, it’s cute.”

“Because I— fuck, fu-u-uuck, s-stop it— wanna be good for you. I won’t misbehave, please master, allow me to cum—”

“What did you just call me?” Hyunjin is suddenly tense, stops with his ministrations and stares at you wide-eyed. You mirror his movements, just as perplexed by your words. You didn’t even mean it intentionally, it just slipped out. Sure, you knew that he had that superiority domination kink going on, but did he really enjoy being addressed as— “Say it again.”

You lick your lips and watch him closely. “Let me come, master.”

Hyunjin shudders visibly and the groan that escapes his mouth is raspy and deep and liquid sin. “Since you’re so good for me…” you yelp when he suddenly inserts two fingers into you, and fingers you in a rapid speed. It takes him roughly five thrusts until he finds your weak spot before he repeatedly pumps in and out in the same angle, emitting a sob from your side. “Is there anything else you imagined master doing to you?”

“Hands around… a-aa-ah shit— around my…” Hyunjin raises a brow when you reach out for his free hand and sloppily guide him to your throat. Stars fill your vision as he understands and wraps his fingers around your neck, the missing feeling of air making you light-headed. You weep out a silent cry when he moves his fingers even faster and applies slightly more pressure on your throat.

“Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your neck. What’s next? You want me to gag you with my fingers? Pull your hair when I’m fucking your mouth? Run my hands all over your body as you get yourself off on my thigh? You seem to be really fixated on my hands.”

Hyunjin’s words send you jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body. You don’t even register the intent behind what he says, too focused on all the other sensations. At this point you’re too far gone to keep holding onto any thread of rationality; the tears are gradually streaming down, your thighs are trembling and it hurts yet it doesn’t, and your orgasm hits you so hard you don’t even process it until your body starts to sting.

While you’re recovering from your high, Hyunjin picks up your cum on his fingers and licks it off thoughtfully, his eyes raking up and down your fingers. And then he asks in a manner way too casual for the situation, “How often can you cum, hm?”

You’re already fucked out by his fingers alone, and if he keeps it up, the answer is not a lot of times. Hell, you’re pretty sure your limit is two, but you answer tiredly with, “As many times as master wants me to.”

Hyunjin seems satisfied with the reply and then he gets up on his feet. Cluelessly, you send him mental question marks until he motions you to get up too. “What are you waiting for? Take my pants off.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You just notice now how constrained Hyunjin is underneath the jeans that hung on his hips. Wanting to free him out of his misery as fast as possible, you quickly unbuckle his belt and work on his zipper with the lightest amount of pressure you can muster. From there on, it doesn’t take long until you’ve pulled the fabric down alongside his boxers, revealing his hard length.

At the sight of his size, the precum pooling around his tip and the girth of his length, your mouth waters. “Can I suck you off?”

“I’d love that, but not today.” Hyunjin chuckles when your face drops and grabs your chin, his voice suddenly sultrier and a few intervals lower when he says, “Don’t look so disappointed. I know you’d do a great job. If I fucked your mouth without warning, you’d still take it, right? You wouldn’t deny an inch of my dick, would you? Even if you started to gag, you wouldn’t complain because you want to be good for master.”

He drops himself on the couch and the corners of his mouth crook upwards. “I just thought of something better. I bet you look so pretty bouncing on my cock.”

“Holy fuck,” you whisper. He’s right, that’s so much better than having his pulsing dick in your mouth. Fuck, you’ve been fantasizing about this for the past months after all. And just like that, he’s serving it all on a silver platter.

“C’mon, make me feel good,” he mumbles impatiently as he guides you onto his lap and pulls you in for a kiss. You melt into the kiss, let him abuse your lips up until they bleed if he fucking insists, before smearing precum all over his throbbing dick. Once he’s all slicked up, you raise yourself and sink on him, hissing uncontrollably once his head prods at your entrance.

Despite having him loosening you up a little before with his fingers, the stretch is so intense that you break the kiss and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You’re not the only one who’s affected this badly, as Hyunjin lets a particularly loud groan. “Fuck, you’re so tight. It’s like you were made for me. Be good for master and take me to the hilt, yeah?”

With that, he grips your hips so tightly that they form bruises, and slams you onto the rest of his dick. You stutter out a cry and more tears stream down your face. Hyunjin doesn’t give you time to adjust and lifts you up until only his head is still buried in you, only to push you down again immediately.

“God, you’re taking me in so well. Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?” he demands whilst continuing to manhandle you in this ruthless pace.

“You, master— a-aaa-ah, f-fuck— you’re making me feel this good, master!” you choke out, indulging the rough treatment. “You’re the only one who makes me feel so full!”

Hyunjin groans against you and begins to thrust his hips up into you like a madman. “You’re right, baby, only me huh—” he tugs on your hair with his one hand and kisses you in between your hiccups.

It’s hot, way too hot in here. The sound of skin slapping rings in your ears, as well as Hyunjin’s countless muffled praises. You’re both on edge, orgasm washing over you very soon. It’s prominent in the way Hyunjin’s movements grow more frantically, the way you cling onto him as if he were your saving grace, the way he rasps profanities in your ear.

“Cum for me, baby,” he pants, and it’s the one thrust that he delivers where he’s in you balls-deep and in the right angle that makes you come undone with a loud sob. Hyunjin helps you ride out your high before he pulls out of you completely and his release coats your stomach.

The next few moments are spent in silence, save for the harsh breathing. And then Hyunjin stands up to get a box of tissues next to the speakers and wipes off the cum on his abdomen before cleaning you up. You welcome his actions wholeheartedly, still basking in your post-orgasm bliss. Frankly, every inch of your body hurts and you’re damn sure you won’t be able to feel your legs until the end of the month.

“I’m pretty positive I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say once he’s done cleaning you up as much as he can with simple tissues and is now retrieving all the clothes on the floor.

“It’s what you deserve after putting yourself through your weird sex-deprivation thing,” he jokes and falls on the couch beside you, handing you your clothes and offering his water bottle. “Want some?”

You silently take the bottle and take three generous gulps out of it. “Not today. You said not today when I wanted you to suck you off.”

“I mean, if you’re up for a next time, that is. If yes, then cool. If not, that’s also fine by me.” The way he replies is so casual as if he didn’t get hard from being called master. “Anyway, let me help you get back to your clothes.”

“No cuddles? You are the worst in aftercare.”

“I was thinking of cuddling once we both look a tad more presentable, but go off,” he snorts. Nonetheless, he’s extremely gentle and careful when he helps you slip into your button-up. No words are exchanged all the while except for his soft apologies when you wince in pain because fuck, even lifting your legs hurts.

Hyunjin keeps his word. After fixing your hair to the best extent, he wraps an arm around your waist and you rest your head on his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat.

“I can’t believe we just fucked in the practice room,” he chuckles weakly. “If this becomes a regular thing, please let’s not do it in the practice room ever again. I work here.”

Of course you want this to be a regular thing. Fucking hell. But you don’t say that just yet. Instead, you opt for: “Well, if this becomes a regular thing, the dorms seem like a pretty sweet—”

“Absolutely not.”

You laugh quietly, but deep down inside you know he really wants to do that but doesn’t want to admit it out loud because Hyunjin’s a kinky little shit. “Whatever you say.”

Still, it’s a lot to process, everything that just happened. It’s so much that it drains you more than it should. Your eyes are starting to feel heavy and you sense yourself falling into a slumber. However, you still catch Hyunjin’s half exasperated, half panicked “don’t you dare fall asleep on me now, at least stay awake until we’re in my car!”

You’re not entirely certain if this is just your mind playing games on you or actual reality, but you like to believe that shortly after his outburst, Hyunjin kisses you fondly on the forehead and softly mumbles, “Whatever. Sleep tight, baby.”

[versdan]

Better Than That II (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

summary:  You knew it wasn’t your place to say anything or judge but you did it in the sake for love

A/N: okay hi! Hello! Firstly, part 1 of this fic, I got amazing feedback (which warmed my heart wow thanks y’all) and a lot of requests for part 2. So!! Here’s part two as requested!

Secondly, I wanna say a quick thank you to my babe Rae, @buckyssoul , for beta reading and helping me with ideas on how part two should go 🥺💞 ur an absolute angel and i love u! I hope you guys enjoy & sorry for any typos! requests are open!

pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

please don’t plagerize/repost my work! x

Part 1

———

You sat in your room, chugging down the bottle of champagne you had taken before leaving the party earlier that night. You didn’t know whether you had the right to feel angry at Bucky. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

No, fuck that. All you were trying to do was to protect Bucky from who he was seeing and he obviously didn’t like that. You tried being a good friend and it obviously backfired which only made you more upset towards yourself for spitting out anything in the first place.

There was a knock at your room door and you contemplated whether or not to get up and answer it. Groaning, you got up once you heard another knock on the door, this time a little bit harder.

You shuffled slowly to the door, feeling a bit dizzy from how quickly you got up. You prayed it wasn’t Bucky, as you were in no state of mind to face him but another part of you wished it was him so you can tell him what you think.

Opening the door, you see Natasha standing there as you let out a sigh. “Why hello there beautiful, care to join me?” You smiled at her, lifting up the bottle of champagne in your other hand as you leaned against the door.

Nat rolled her eyes at you as she pushed passed you and sat on your bed. “What happened between you and Barnes?” She asked, as you looked back at her, sighing and closing the door.

“Oh ya know, just a happy conversation of how life is and what the weather is like and-“ you started but Natasha cut you off . “(Y/N). Cut the shit. We all saw you walk out while Buck just sat at the bar wallowing”

You sighed, going to sit next to her. “I tried to warn him” you started, placing the bottle of champagne onto the floor next to you. 

“Warn him about what?” She asked, turning to face you. 

“Jessica. She just sleeps with whoever she can and plays games with these guys and just drops them like nothing. I couldn’t let him go through that. I care too much for him, Nat, you know this” you looked to her with sadness in your eyes, pleading for her to understand 

Natasha sighed. She knew how strong your feelings were for him and it only pained her to see you like this. She remembers when you would cry to her about how much it irked you to see him with other girls but you knew you wanted him to be happy and didn’t want to ruin that for him. 

Natasha pulled you in for a side hug, letting you rest your head on her shoulder before you leaned down to grab the bottle of champagne. You offered it to her and she took the bottle, taking a swig before handing it over to you. 

“I want you to know, if he got mad at you for trying to help him out, then fuck him. Bucky doesn’t realize how good of a friend you truly are and how much you care for him. Someone will find that more attractive than a girl who plays too many games” Nat said as you took a drink from the bottle and looked up at her. 

“Thanks Nat” you smiled softly, turning to your other side and turning on the tv in front of you both, putting on a random movie to help get your mind off of things.

-

Bucky sat at the bar, with his head in his hands. Letting out a sigh, he knew he’d fucked up. He began to wish to have gone with his gut instinct to ask you out instead of letting you go on continuous dates with dudes who were no good for you. 

Taking a swig of his beer, Sam came up next to him clearing his throat. “I don’t want to hear it right now, Wilson” Bucky spoke to him as Sam just placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fine, I won’t say ‘I told you so’ but let me say this,” Sam started as Bucky gave him a sharp look, not wanting to hear any quick witty remarks from him. “You may want to think about who’s really worth fighting for” he finished, looking across the room while motioning for Bucky to follow his gaze. 

Bucky turned in his stool to see Jessica laughing loudly, surrounded by three guys. She turned to the guy on her left placing a hand on his chest as she continued to laugh and leaned into him. Anger started to boil inside Bucky. It’s one thing to act flirty with guys but it’s another to do it at his friends party infront of everyone.

Just when he thought it was just flirting, she leaned into the guy and placed a kiss onto his lips as Bucky just sat there shocked. Placing his beer down, he shot up out of the stool and made his way over to them. Sam was following behind him, incase anything were to get out of control. 

Walking up to the both of them in mid-makeout session, he cleared his throat causing them both to pull apart and look at Bucky. Jessica’s eyes grew wide as she pushed the guy off her. 

“Oh my gosh! Bucky, I swear it’s not what it looks like! He just started kissing me and-“ Bucky stopped her by raising his hand

“I saw the whole thing from the bar. I don’t need you to lie right to my face” he said as her shocked expression dropped to a smirk. 

“Well, I think I’ve got what I want out of this” Jessica said, motioning between the both of them. ”Now why don’t you go follow your little friend (Y/N)? She seems like she could use  your consult” she smirked, with a sinister twinkle in her eye.

“And what did you get out of this? A name for yourself? Your ego boosted?” Bucky said, feeling his face heat up from both anger and embarrassment that people started to turn towards them. The guys who were next to Jessica decided to leave as they felt the tension grow. Jessica reached out to the guy who she kissed, pulling him back towards her. 

“When I get the opportunity to get what I want, I do it, Buck. Sorry you were the one who had to be it” she said insincerely, patting his chest and walking off with the guy next to her. Bucky just stood there. 

“Oh! And by the way” Jessica said, turning to face both Bucky and Sam.  They turned to look at her with annoyance that she was still there. “Tell (Y/N) that you're all her’s to play with now” she smirked before walking out of the room with the guy. 

“Buck, are you-“ Sam started, looking to Bucky but he interrupted him by walking off. He didn’t know which emotion to feel first. Embarrassed at the fact this happened at one of Stark’s parties, sad that he didn’t see any mixed signals in the beginning of the relationship, and more angry at himself for blaming you, thinking you were lying about Jessica’s intentions. 

He blamed you when he knew it was wrong and that only made him angrier at himself. Bucky walked over to the elevator, pressing the button to go up. He wanted to punch something to let out the anger that was seeping over inside of him but he knew better not to punch a wall. Tony would in fact kill him for ruining anything in the tower. 

Once the elevator doors opened, Bucky stepped inside and pressed the floor he knew your room was on. On the way up, he tried to create a speech to apologize to you. It would range from “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you” to “you were right about Jessica, she was playing me” and finally to “I’m so in love with you that I fucked up by choosing the wrong person”. 

The elevator doors opened and he walked down the hall towards your door, which he stood in front of for a good minute debating on knocking or not. Maybe I should just walk away and give her time, he thought. No, I have to tell her I’m sorry and make things right. 

Knocking on the door, he let out a shaky breath nervous as to what your reaction would be. Once the door opened, he was surprised to see Nat standing there giving him a sharp look. 

“She doesn’t want to see you, Barnes” she said, quickly which made him feel even worse. Bucky saw a hand go onto her shoulder as she looked next to her quickly before looking at Bucky and stepping back. You took her spot, looking down at the floor and then back up at him. 

“Are you going to say something or just stand there?” You asked him, already wanting this to be over with. 

“C-can I come in for this?” Bucky asked, his speech immediately wiping from his memory as his palms started to sweat. 

“No. We’re going to talk like this and if you’re not up for that, then you can gladly get back to Jessica” You spat out softly as you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at Bucky. Bucky was a bit taken back at what you just said but he knew he shouldn’t be surprised because it was what he deserved. 

“I actually, uh-” he started but stopped to clear his throat “Well, she was kissing someone else at the party and basically told me she used me to get whatever she wanted. You were right about her” he finished, looking from the ground and then back up to you. 

Letting out a scoff, you looked away. After everything tonight of being blamed for causing him distress about being happy in a relationship, you knew you were right about her. But why does it hurt you to see him like this in the slightest?

“That wasn’t hard to believe, especially since it happened right in front of you, now was it?” you said, giving him another sharp look as he let out a pained breath.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come at you for making that sort of accusation when in fact, you were right about her. She couldn’t fill the spot that I wanted you to take, anyways. I picked the wrong girl to be with, and in the end and it came back to bite me in the ass” he said, looking at you with pleading eyes, hoping you would forgive him. But you weren’t letting go of this that easily.

“Bucky, I don’t want to be your ‘second choice’ girl. We both had the opportunity and we missed it. If you ‘loved’ me and truly wanted me to be in the spot you chose Jessica over me for, then it would have happened.” You sighed, this was getting to be too much for your champagne pickled brain. “We’re both better off separated” you finished, truthfully. You knew deep down you cared for this kid with every fiber in your being but after tonight, it wavered. You’re always going to love Bucky, but you wanted to be someone who your significant other would fight for, not step over. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a movie to get back to. Goodnight, Bucky” you said, stepping back giving him one last look before shutting your door completely. Leaning against the closed door, you let out a breath you had been holding in and looked at Nat who was standing by the bed giving you a reassuring smile. You smiled softly back, before you made your way over to her and she engulfed you into a hug.

Bucky stood outside of your door, not knowing what to do next. He feels as if he had lost you for good and this only made his anger come back towards himself, accompanied by an immense chest hollowing sadness. He’s made some dumb decisions in his life but tonight, this had topped all of those. Had he only told you that he loved you to begin with, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But everything happens for a reason. If it is meant to be, things will mend but for now, the bond is broken.

———

feedback is appreciated!

taglist for part 2: @ladywintersoldat @isabellaopwsoa @itsjaybro16 @easygoingtheatre @lilylove1322 @katzuh @vexxybexxy-blog @prepareforsomestrangethings​ 

[brokemylegflippingthefirewall]

*This is absolutely a fic promotion, but plz hear me out on the discourse part too

So, self inserts and original characters, the worst fanfic catgeory (fanfiction.net literally says that in one of its fic groupings, and I'm pretty sure the number of views on any fanfic website says the same).

TLDR- Yes, I agree that this stereotype carries truth, but I do think SIs and OCs have more potential to be explored, and the stigma surrounding these labels is blocking that. And oh god I just want to know so badly if this is the deal with the work I'm currently writing or if I genuinely just can't write well.

The longer version- (this was written quite late into the night/ I'm in Singapore/, and might not be so well organized, I apologize for that.)

To what extent is this stigma "justified"? I mostly use AO3 for reading fics, and when I see the OC/SI tag, the thing is....I came to look for fics about canon characters and might not have the wish to invest my time in taking in a new character. I understand that most people who read fanfiction would feel the same. This, I think, is more or less justified. If you came to look for a certain canon character/relationship, and you don't want to get invested in any OCs, then of course the OC/SI tag isn't for you.

But... I think that's about it. Bcs here's the thing,

1. Using the OC/SI format does NOT automatically make the fic worse in quality. Hell, I'm not even sure if the statistical "fact" that these tags generate the worst fics is true. Judging from what I've read in the tma fandom and my other past fandoms, the stuff with OC/SI isn't inherently worse or better than the rest of the fics. There are ones that are pretty normal in writing quality, and the ones where the prose is rly good, others where plot design stands out etc. Of course, there is a lot of wish fulfillment and the like, but... there's also a lot of that in fics that write about canon characters.

2. I can't really say whether a wish fulfillment "I just want to write cool scenes/fluff" fic is better or worse than a more serious fic that explores some characterization or plot point. I think stories (all stories, books, fanfic, myths, everything) exist to entertain us and make us feel things. I am not sure if writing a feel good story is any less meaningful than writing a story that brings people "deeper" thoughts and makes them feel good in some other way. And this isn't even the issue at hand, because fundamentally, writing an OC/SI or not doesn't determine what the content is about. I agree that a larger proportion of OC/SI fics tend to be more on the lighthearted side, but... so is most of the content consumed in the other tags. Readers don't seem to have a problem with feel good stories/fix it fics etc when there is no OC or SI, so I don't see why that type of fic paired with an OC/SI should be considered any less "meaningful".

3. Guys/gals, what is an OC/SI?

Yes, it is very personal, and it is very wish fulfillment, but... isn't that like a common literature thing...like in general? Look at the works that "real writers" publish, from contemporary to the classics, which writer doesn't write about themselves? Like, just off the top of my head, Les Miserables, Marius? Um, Dante's Inferno? (and that guy did not self insert into some random thing he straightup went for the Christian Canon😂 used his real name too, so Jonny I guess if you feel awkward about your MCs name you can think of Dante//Jk). But seriously, self insert and wish fulfillment is a big part of literature itself, and while there are things to be said about these tropes, if people don't have that much of a problem with them in other literature, I don't see why fanfic OC/SIs shouldn't be treated the same.

4. in relation to the last point. More specifically...

I do think that a lot of fanfiction which write about the original characters are also OC/SIs to different extents. I've read fics that depict pairings where the author and readers project heavily onto one (or more) of the characters. I've read stuff where the author uses a minor character to explore the established world building/character dynamics and it's clear that it's an SI but with the appearance of being a canon character (and yes it gets tons more views than one that's written as SI). How do I know this? Because I am one of those readers who project onto those characters, and I know why I read those fics, I know why I like them. It's because I can self insert, and feel like I am part of the story, part of the world. Isn't that something most people want to do? I mean, Universal Studios? Specific franchise themed museums? COSPLAY??? Of course that's not all there is to engaging with a story, but what's the shame in wanting to be a part of an already established world building, or want to love a wonderfully designed character? (slight tangent, but if u feel like it's bcs ur not as interesting/cool as the story's world or other characters appear to be then I can tell you with certainty that's not true. You are very interesting and cool and absolutely deserve to be part of a fantasy world.) Isn't that a big part of why "real literature" is written and read as well? So... what's the problem with being like, okay, I'm just gonna insert myself into the world now, through this original character? Of course, I'm not asking for people who prefer to write strictly in canon characters to change that. What I mean to say is, writing it in the form of an OC/SI, doesn't make it a lot different from other fics, or hell, from classic literature even.

I think a potential problem might be the feeling that you are taking too much creative liberty with something that is established canon, by having your own character directly interact with it. But, um, can't the same thing be said if you take a canon character, and then proceed to project heavily onto them? Like, a big part of why I don't feel comfortable writing just canon characters is that I know I'm clearly projecting and it feels awkward to rewrite an already established character to explore my own thoughts/desires. I would rather just straightup design a new character. (this is all just personal feelings, I haven't thought enough about this to make any kind of argument here. And of course, the main reason is I can't trust myself to write canon characters that don't ooc in some way so having one as my protag might kill me with my own awkwardness. )

5. the potential.

Now this is looking far ahead because I'm not sure how much our current system for distribution of knowledge & copyright can allow it. But damn. The OC/SI thing has a lot of potential. There is one thing that makes it different from writing in canon characters, and that is the way it opens up a clear space for you to add your own experience into the story. When exploring your own world view through the lense of an already established world, or vice versa, so much can be revealed about both, perhaps even bringing to light aspects of the narrative the author hadn't previously seen. We all know this feeling, it's when we ramble on about one of our stories or worlds to a friend, and they point something out, and we're like ooooh that makes a lot of sense but I hadn't thought about it before. Yea, like those moments. Stories are generally made more interesting by their interaction with many different perspectives/experiences. With OC/SI it straightup allows you to be like, okay, I'm going to engage my own experience with this fictional world/character now. I mean, isnt that also a large part of how fanfics work in general? Readers/writers bouncing symbols and experiences off each other in the form of stories? Reading about the various interpretations of canon stuff? Whats the problem with tagging it as it is? I'm just thinking about the fics that could have been written as OC/SI and explored the story in some fascinating way which weren't written at all or were discontinued bcs the number of views discouraged those authors. (I feel that with my current work as well, though I have already written half of it and the remaining half is too juicy to give up so I'll probably be completing it)

6. conclusion, sorta

I guess what I want for OC/SO fics is just the same treatment as everything else. Saw it in the tags you were searching for? Look at the teaser. Do you find it interesting? No, then very well. Yes, then click in and take a look. Do you like the writing style? Are you getting into the narrative?... etc. You know, like, same standards you would have for any other kind of fic. Not feeling like you want to read about a new character? Cool, no problem at all, click away. But I do not think that the current difference in number of views is just based on whether readers are interested in reading about a new character or not. In fact, that's what I want it to be. Show me that "true" difference, the one without the stigma behind it, because, as the same goes for every kind of stigmatized community, you're not receiving the proportionate amount of positive feedback, but what's worse is you can't even trust the criticism you receive. If no one engages, or someone gives a negative feedback, how am I supposed to know if it's because my writing is bad? or my teaser wasn't interesting? or my character was badly written/designed? Or if it was to a certain extent, bcs of the stigma? I do want criticism, of course I do, it's the first step to every improvement, and I would love it if I could get feedback that I can trust. (and this brings us to the truely "oppressed" community of the fanfic world, the people who write very good but cant write interesting teasers//jk)

7. the entirely skippable straw man rant part, also the expression of my love for The Magnus Archives.

some straw man: if you like writing your own characters so much, why not just write your own story entirely? and publish it?

You think I'm not annoyed about that? Here's the thing, I LIKE THIS WORLD I READ FROM THIS BOOK/SOME OTHER FORM OF MEDIA OR WHATEVER, I like it, it's brilliant, I want to write for it, about it, be in it, think about it, read about it, engage in whatever way I can. I CAN'T just "go write my own." And who do you think is more annoyed about not being able to publish the stuff? (According to you) I have written something that is potentially publishable (thank you btw I know you don't exist and is a strawman I invented just now but I've gotta get my compliments where I can//Jk), and I can't publish it in any potentially big way (and rightfully not) because I have no copyright over the characters. I worked hard to design my character, to make the plot meaningful, and to study the original canon plot and characters so that it would all fit together (I mean, partially bcs I can't force myself to sit down and write sth that is any less complex), and I can't actually publish it where more people will read it. And of course, on top of that, even less people will feel like reading once that "original character" tag is up. Does it look like I would be here if I could "just write my own"?

(slight tangent but come on what even is "your own"? how many classic European lit books were just fanfics of each other which were all just fanfics of the Bible or Greek mythology or sth? Stories and symbols have no boundaries it's the economic system that drew those.)

Damn this got way longer than I thought and it's morning now😂 guess I ran out of space to actually promote my fic, might have to do that in a seperate post then. But to anyone who actually read up to here, I'm so sorry for wasting your time no but srsly thanks for reading all of these jumbled thoughts, and good luck with whatever you are working on at the moment, I know you're probably working on something if you're reading through these tags. And of course good luck to the tma folk we're gonna face the end together🙏. good night (I should rly go to sleep now😂)

[lxveille]

hope u are ok, please take of urself in this current climate! 💗 do u think u could write some minghao fluff for me? maybe a university au one? it’s totally ok if not though! hope working from home doesn’t become too monotonous for u & u find time for self-care & healing, too. xxx

title: a changewc: ~ 1200warnings: casual mentions of alcohol; the return of svt frat aua/n: this was really the sweetest way someone’s ever requested something from me i think ?? anyway, i don’t know if this is exactly fluff or just a university au meet-fic (is it even meet cute? idk any more i haven’t properly finished writing a thing in ages who knows???)

This party is the worst.

There’s nothing but noise and sweating bodies, flushed from dancing or from alcohol. You only agreed to come because your roommate said she was finally ready to bounce back from her breakup. You should have guessed her idea of moving on would be going to a boisterous ΣΛT party. She may claim to be ‘over’ the heartbreak – but evidently not enough to not want to hook up with a member of her ex’s rival fraternity. 

The third time beer spills on you, you’re pretty sure you’re ready to scream. 

Somehow, though, nothing comes out of your mouth. All you manage is to hold your hands up and stare down at the wet patch down the front of your shirt.

A look around doesn’t show you who the culprit is, or where your roommate is. Perfect. Maybe you’ll cry instead. 

You make the more practical decision to try to find a bathroom where you can try to clean yourself up a bit.

The place is packed. You’re not exactly a regular at parties. Least of a frat parties. It would be a maze even if it were empty. Navigating it is only harder with all the people you have to wiggle through. And Joshua Hong – the quiet kid from one of your literature classes – is standing on top of a couch leading off some chant that’ll make someone else chug their drink. You wonder if maybe this is actually some alternate reality. Do people actually have fun here?

A long line in a narrow hallway signals that you have, in fact, found a bathroom. Except by the look of it, you won’t be getting in any time soon. You come to a stop, contemplating what to do. When you go to take a step back, your shoe sticks just slightly to the floor. With a grimace and a sound of disgust, you head in the direction of the stairs you’d seen earlier.

With the number of people that live in this place, there has to be more than one restroom. 

No one stops you from going upstairs, but it still feels like you shouldn’t be here. There’s still the distinct sounds of a party, but they’re all muffled, and suddenly there’s room to breathe. You look at the different doors carefully, and are grateful when you spot one left a crack open with tile flooring showing on the other side. 

It isn’t exactly what anyone would call a neat bathroom, but you imagine it must be leagues better than whatever the situation is downstairs.

You look into the mirror and let out a sigh. The beer stain on your shirt is truly unflattering, and you imagine anyone who looked your way would probably assume you did it to yourself. Still, you start with washing your hands and trying to splash water to get off the sticky patch on your arm from an earlier spill before trying to wash your shirt. 

Mostly, though, you just end up with even wetter fabric trying to stick to your skin.

“Everything going alright…?” 

“No,” you answer. It’s only a moment after that you even fully realize someone has spoken to you. You try not to look surprised when you turn to the doorway. Leaning against the open door is the lanky, dark-haired art major you’ve been trying not to have a crush on this semester. Sally had told you about him after the fifth time she caught you staring at him in the dining hall.  You think it’s the strangest thing that he’s here. Handsome, artsy types who spend their lunch risking spilling coffee on their sketchbooks are not the type to suddenly show up at a frat rager, are they? “I mean. Hi.” 

Minghao laughs. “Hi,” he echoes. “Anything I can do to help, then?”

“Not unless you have a spare shirt on hand.” You try to sound more upbeat about it than you feel. As if you’re fully capable of laughing it off.

He looks you over and you suddenly wish you hadn’t drawn any attention to your predicament. He nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I can arrange that.” 

It must be a joke. The skin above your tenses as you pull a puzzled expression. Then you force a small chuckle. “That’s fine,” you say, and give a casual wave of your hand. As if to say, yes, I’m in on the sarcasm. I can play along. 

“I’m serious.” Minghao straightens up. “I promise I do my laundry more often than some of the guys.” 

“And, what, you just… bring a spare outfit with you to outings?” 

This time he’s the one to pause to gauge the seriousness of your remark. “I mean, my room’s right down the hall. So.” 

“You live here?” The astonishment comes out before you can temper it. 

Thankfully, Minghao seems to get where it’s coming from, if the way he smiles is anything to judge. “It’s not always like this.” He glances around the bathroom, like there might be some proof lying around. His eyes settle back onto you, and you think you might be hallucinating when you hear him say your name. “…Right?” 

“Yeah.” You nod. 

“Sally talks about you in imaging,” he explains before holding out his hand. “I’m Minghao.” 

“She does?” Oh, god. Your dread must be evident, because Minghao laughs again. That sound alone could make someone fall head over heels, you’re sure. 

“Good things only,” Minghao reassures. “So, do you want something dry to put on?” 

So you end up in Minghao’s room. There isn’t much of a stark difference between his half of the room and his roommates. When he catches you staring at one of the paintings propped up on a desk, he tells you someone named Mingyu had painted it one night while drunk and waiting for a food delivery to arrive. 

“Black or gray?” he asks you shortly after, as though that was the obvious followup to that anecdote. It’s only once you look to his hands and see him holding too different shirts that you put the pieces together. 

“Honestly, anything’s fine,” you reply, “This is already really nice of you.” 

He hands you the black one. “Don’t worry about it.” He’s close now, and your nerves feel electrified. The sensation only lasts a moment, though, with how quickly he goes to leave you space to change. 

If this whole turn of events wasn’t already odd, it felt surreal to be alone in his room. You quickly pull your shirt off and, shrugging, use a dry patch of it to dab lingering moisture off your skin before slipping on Minghao’s shirt.

With your wet blouse balled up in one hand, you use the other to open his door. Honestly, you had half expected Minghao to have disappeared back into the party. Instead, he’s standing right there in the hallway. And his expression lights up when he spots you. 

“Looks good,” he compliments easily. You laugh, and hate to think of how those two words will ring in your head tonight as you try to fall asleep. “So… Can I get you a drink?” 

Maybe there is some fun to be had here.

[toxicpineapple]

Please give me your amami essay, I'd like to know the TEA! I was also gonna ask for the mastermind essay, but honestly I REALLY wanna hear your thoughts on his characterization (and your thoughts on his shitty fanon characterization)

HOOO BOY OKAY. this is good, it gives me an excuse to procrastinate on reading that new amasai fic on the latest feed. (note that i REALLY WANT TO READ IT, i’m just anticipating commenting and tbh the spoons,,, i lack them. it’s okay though i’ll get over it.)

so!!! let’s start with general attitude, because i think that amami’s is really unique. he’s a subversive character. in general i feel like that was the biggest goal with his character design and personality combination-- he looks like a total playboy, kaede even comments as much moooore than once. but he’s the absolute opposite. i’ll rant about that in a bit. i’ve already gone off on a tangent and i said i was gonna talk about attitude.

amami is laid back, but not to the point of complacency. y’know what i mean? like, he’s relaxed, but he’s on his guard, too. his speaking style is pretty casual (typically he’ll greet people with a “hey,” whenever he’s slightly uncomfortable he’ll probably say “haha”... this isn’t necessarily a canon thing but i like it when people have him talking in sentence fragments. ex. “forgot to grab my jacket” or “wanted to get a snack” sort of thing) and that’s just,,, the type of person he is. he’s casual. it’s remarkable considering how wealthy amami is-- though bear in mind, he still IS wealthy, so there are bound to be things he doesn’t understand about people-- that he can be so normal and like, down to earth, in a way. when people mess around with him he’ll probably just laugh it off.

to cite a fic i read once that had REALLY phenomenal characterisation, imo, ouma ends up dumping a bucket of water on amami’s head (on accident; there are some semantics and i won’t get into it but again the fic is really good and funny and you should totally read it) and amami just squeezes out his shirt and makes a couple cracks before walking away. (sorry this isn’t meant to be a “dumping love on fics” post but GOD that fic is hysterical.) he’s an enabler too, at least i think so-- remember that anthology chapter where kaede, shuichi, and kaito are trying to catch ouma and kaito sets an “amami trap” to stop him? all ouma has to do is flutter his eyelashes and go “pleeeaaase let me go amam~niichan!” and then he just. he does. what a fucking doormat i can’t believe him.

he’s like that though. i feel like big brother stuff is kind of his weakness. (and not in a kinky way alright i will destroy you. he might make a joke about having a sister complex in one of his ftes but he DOESNT that joke was just tasteless COME ON RANTARO WHFKLDSJFK) which brings me to his whole older brother thing, because like,,, YEAH. guy grew up with twelve younger sisters!!! and he remarked in his ftes with shuichi that they’re mostly step sisters, which means he just.... has a nurturing personality. i mean amami is somewhat conservative (if you try to come on to him during salmon mode you will be brutally rebuffed; amami tells u to keep your horny thoughts to yourself, though you shouldn’t be ashamed of having them) so i imagine he’s not the biggest fan of his father’s tendencies-- not that i don’t NECESSARILY interpret his father’s behaviour as him sleeping around.... it’s possible he just likes children and deliberately marries women who already have kids so he can take them... i mean it’s exceedingly decent to keep considering ur step children to be your children after a divorce so i have a hard time reconciling this common image of rantaro’s dad as some kind of player figure with the impression i got of him in my head but that’s just my daddy issues coming into play again so ignore me-- and yet he still considers all his sisters to be his sisters.

not to mention he feels a great deal of like, responsibility, when it comes to taking care of them. i find it impossible to believe that all the losses were his fault. you could ARGUE that the one he tells you about with his younger sister was to be blamed on him? but i mean, amami is a child. he didn’t even know his sister was following him out. sure he blames himself for it but there’s no real good way to blame him just considering that,,, he’s a kid. and he was so young-- he was obviously so young-- when it happened. so like, not to be all Good and Bad on you, but i do feel that amami is fundamentally a good reason. and you SEE that too, in the killing game. i’m certain he was on the fence about trusting that note he woke up with. would you trust it? he had no memory whatsoever of writing it, all he had were the words “ultimate hunt” and a map of the school to guide his way. i imagine he wasn’t even sure if he should do what the note said. but then ryoma started talking about sacrificing himself for everyone else, and rantaro probably thought, “well... if i have a way to get us out of here, even if it doesn’t work, i can’t just let ryoma sacrifice himself without having tried.”

rantaro is self-reliant too, i think. in the talent development plan mukuro remarks that she noticed he was injured a good number of times, but never said anything about it because she felt like he was trying to keep it under wraps. (note: good idea for an amami and mukuro friendship fic. must write. someone remind me.) i think amami kind of feels isolated from his classmates? either because he has these perceived notions of like, independence and whatever, not burdening anybody else with his problems (honestly not to go chabashira on main but wtf men ask for help c’mon i promise if you find a person who’s worth being in ur life they won’t treat you like shit for feeling ur feelings) or just because he’s not around a lot. i think amami is the type of person to invalidate his own problems a lot, or at least downplay them to others. he blames himself for all his sisters going missing, took the responsibility to find them all. you know the blow that’s going to be to his education? traveling around the world looking for twelve different people? and he plans to keep doing that!!! forever!!! ugh ;-; poor babey. but anyway i feel like he doesn’t want to tell anybody about his problems because he feels like it’s his thing to deal with.

i also believe that rantaro is a bit prideful. i mean, anyone can be prideful under the correct circumstances, and in fact there is a great deal of pride that simply isn’t addressed by the fandom in analysing characters and that makes me really sad because pride is such a SEXY character flaw but i’ll leave that alone for now. he hates being told to give up on what he’s doing. i mean everyone in his life has been telling him to stop looking for his sisters. that’s got to suck, but also, DAMN look at what his reaction was. this utter refusal to open up to anybody. shuichi’s ftes with him are spent pretty much just trying to get amami to stop squirreling around and actually TALK to him. amami asks shuichi at one point if he has any siblings and when the response is negative, amami immediately assumes that shuichi wouldn’t understand, would tell him to quit. just like everyone else.

(i mean, even with kiyo and mukuro, whose circumstances mirror his almost painfully at least in willingness to sacrifice stuff for their siblings, he doesn’t tell them what he’s doing, just that he’s doing it for his sister-- singular-- and that he would do anything for her. kiyo and mukuro!! out of ANYBODY, they would understand. in tdp they DO talk about it-- kiyo encourages him to keep searching-- as his friend...... fuck amaguji is such a good ship even if the implications of kiyo saying he wants to meet rantaro’s sister after he finds her bc she must be suuuuch a good person if he’s doing all this for her are uhhh not great-- and mukuro immediately understands when he says it’s to do with his younger sister. like, full stop. she just goes “okay” and goes serious. all at once. damn rantaro, mukuro, and kiyo really do be a power trio huh. i need to write more fic about them i miss them.)

this is more into baseless conjecture so take this as you will, but i also think rantaro is kind of,,, easily distracted lmao. he mentions helping out a village with a disease-- been a while since i’ve seen his ftes, sorry for any inconsistencies-- among other shit and like... bro what are you DOING. you have sisters to find. and he can’t be getting injured all the time, getting wrapped up with gang violence and all that, looking for people who were lost traveling. i mean sure, you could say they went all over the world and got wrapped up in all sorts of mess, but more likely they stayed in roughly the same area, waiting for him to come back. and also? i have a hard time believing his sisters were lost in these remote forest places people always put them. COME ON, who the fuck goes to some village for a vacation? a RICH person no less. i’m on another tangent. sorry. but yeah, i love the people who write rantaro as an absolute airhead. i headcanon that he has no way of judging the passing of time and thus is the absolute worst in the bathroom bc he sits there for twenty minutes thinking about the universe and then walks out like “:) ok ready to go” like wtf are you even doing there stupid akljdf anyway.

i think rantaro is softhearted and thoughtful. in his ftes with kaede he demonstrates an ability to look past what people show at surface level-- you can ask him about miu, kiibo, or kiyo and he’ll give u Good Fucking Insight(tm)-- and analyse their intentions more closely. and i mean this is just from a couple day’s interaction. he’s down to earth for sure, understanding when people are intimidated but also caring and observant. (his “talk about a first impression” line is so fuckaindgf.... good for his characterisation. i love romantic amamatsu but he so clearly takes an older brother role in those ftes, he’s really such a sweetheart,,,, hnadhfkj ;w;) rantaro is just. he’s patient with people. and selfless and kind. idk it’s all the good stuff. warm smiles and indulgence. all the way. probably lets kokichi steal his lunch.

THAT BEING SAID: i think rantaro also has a very serious streak. he doesn’t show it a lot but there are moments. he’s self-sacrificing-- i mean, obviously. he was the ultimate survivor, after all. some people hc that he got there by killing, or maybe everyone else in his game died but one person, but bro that doesn’t make any sense???? no. what happened was there were probably like three people left, and monokuma was like “one has to be sacrificed” and rantaro thought, welp. it’ll be me then. and i wouldn’t say the choice would be immediate because rantaro DOES has self preservation instincts-- he’s only human-- but i don’t think he’d have let anybody else make that decision. i think ultimately he would try to protect other people.

he can be scarily confrontational too. i do believe he’d usually only do it in the defense of others-- like, his base instinct is to protect. i read a fic once (oumami, unfortunately) where ouma was committing crimes and went to hide behind rantaro and rantaro instinctively moved to protect him, and that’s.... that’s good characterisation. point one to the oumami stans, point zero to me. motherfucker. (love u oumami stans, it’s just not my thing.) i really like it in fics when he’s stern, lecturing people for hurting other people, but i also think rantaro is too understanding to be truly unforgiving. like if two people got into an argument and one came out of it more hurt than the other, i don’t believe that amami would be unsympathetic to the less hurt one. i think he’s mature enough to take a look at the situation and go, well, okay.

i think he’d be TERRIFYING when angry. he’s patient, y’know? so it takes a lot to get him to that point. he’s really, ah, accommodating of people. puts up with a lot of bs kind of thing. but i imagine the best way to get him to snap is by hurting someone he cares about. and at that point: ur fucked. i’ve never written it before because i’m terrified of what i’d do with that kind of power but.... imagine the shuichi whump. holy god.

i’m NOT here to talk about shuichi whump (though i’m down to do that any time of day believe me) so i’m gonna like. shhhhiiiiiiffft.

i project on characters a lot so at this point it’s difficult to distinguish if some of my characterisation things are like, actually characterisation things? or just me venting, so like, take nothing i say as canon, but also,,, akdsjf we love a man who bottles up his emotions.

because rantaro just doesn’t have the TIME to be crying all over the place. he was probably a total wreck when he lost his first sister. and his second. and maybe even his third. but then he started to gather his composure, more and more. because if there’s anything that rantaro has in excess, it’s composure. the more losses he suffers the more of a shield he builds up. and the self hatred and the guilt and the blame and the responsibility are piling up and up and up, but god he hates it when other people see him sad, because he needs to be the strong one, he can’t just pile that up on other people. that’s not their weight to carry, and besides, he’s the older brother, he should be able to deal with his own problems. he’d just be burdening the people he cares about by letting them see his demons.

and then he doesn’t have any coping mechanisms because he never lets himself feel enough to cope, and when people get close enough to actually CARE about him, when people notice he’s upset or struggling and offer him help, he doesn’t know how to deal with it-- and god he hates lashing out at people but it’s so much easier to deal with the consequences of being mean than the consequences of breaking down. only conflict is scary when he’s one of the causes so he needs time to recover, and well, what better way to do that than to get on a plane or a boat and go look for his sisters? after all he’s wasting time whenever he’s just sitting around, they’re still out there and he needs to find them, so might as well just keep pushing himself to the limits, because it’s his fault they’re lost anyway...

something mukuro said to rantaro in the talent development plan stuck in my brain. like, initially it’s just a funny and cute interaction (rantaro even blushes and a blushing rantaro is a GOOD FUCKING RANTARO) but when i thought about it more i was like.... huh. hm. angst ideas. mukuro makes a joke about rantaro going over to her stand at the festival to flirt with her-- i think that’s the context, i know it’s play-boy related-- and rantaro assures her (as he always does) that he’s not that kind of guy, and mukuro agrees, saying she was just pulling his leg and that he seems like the kind of person who gets dumped because he doesn’t show his emotions enough. rantaro laughs, blushes, and says “haha, not touching that one,” and akdjfnnnnnn god mukuro you’re so blunt i love you fkdjf but wow. i usually have rantaro as not having dated anyone, just because i feel like he kind of hyperfocuses on finding his sisters? and given that he’s like sixteen (seventeen at the MOST) there’s not much of a timeline for when his sisters got lost. in my fic search i had to cram all the losses into a four-year period and damn that was rough. anyway i just don’t think he’d really prioritise romance. but that reaction implies that that’s EXACTLY his experience with romance, which makes a bit of sense because mukuro is ridiculously sharp, and also it’s,, it’s just sad idk poor rantaro. getting dumped because he’s like the emotional equivalent of a doorknob when it comes to his own feelings.

i do think rantaro is a bit cowardly. not in the sense that he’d shy away from danger-- i think he’d RUSH INTO IT HEAD FIRST because he’s a man or whatever, i know he respects women but he does seem to hold some of those very stereotypically masculine ideals of constantly protecting those around him, which is like.... ok toxic masculinity mcgee can u and kaito stop throwing hands every time u see each other ty-- but more in the sense that he avoids,,, confrontation. emotional confrontation just ain’t his thing. and i think he’d rather run away from it or otherwise find some way of ignoring it than try to address his problems.

he would, with that in mind, probably try to associate with people who don’t push the matter. kiyo and mukuro, for example. they both have a fair amount of baggage themselves so they’d probably be respectful. ryoma is lowkey enough that he just, he wouldn’t bring that shit up, that’s uncool. i also think rantaro would get along REALLY WELL with kaito, and i actually don’t think kaito would pull his sidekick stuff with him? just because in a way they’re kind of kindred spirits, and i think kaito would see an ally in rantaro before seeing someone to try to nurture, so they’d probably have some kind of a truce like, if you don’t force me to be vulnerable, i won’t force you. one of the reasons why i love amamota so much is because it involves the two of them growing to care about each other beyond that sort of unhealthy camaraderie and breaking down each other’s barriers and i just..... hhnnfhhdkfj they could be so good for each other but nobody wants to talk about thatjslfkj

you weren’t asking for my amamota mess lmao sorry anon i get sidetracked SO easily. but yeah, amami gravitates towards people who wouldn’t try to get him to be more honest with himself. and i honestly think the v3 cast would be pretty good about that overall, except for shuichi who is a detective and has a habit of sticking his nose in places it shouldn’t be, but i see no reason to write that out because amami’s ftes already display that beautifully. (well, that’s a lie, i’m absolutely plotting out a slowburn in my head already that involves shuichi stripping down his walls one by one, but forget about all of that rn we don’t need to talk about why amasaimota is my ot3.) also he is softer on childish people like ouma and himiko. ain’t nobody wants to TALK TO ME about how brilliant it would be if rantaro and hiyoko were friends because hiyoko has such problems in that department and he would take one look at her and go hm. i’m adopting her. and he’s so fucking patient and nice and she’d lose the will to make fun of him and i have to do ALL THE GODDAMN WORK AROUND HERE but it’s fine. at least i get to write it.

i’ve described the fundamentals of his characterisation pretty well by now i think. i have some throwaway headcanons, like uhh,,

he’s claustrophobic

plays the guitar and the ukulele

he prefers warm weather and perishes in the cold

high pain tolerance

he’s a Good Cook

doesn’t like sex jokes (they make him uncomfortable)

asexual (i do like a good demisexual hc at all times of day tho)

master of piggyback rides

does his own piercings

impulsive as hell

gets lost easily but can always find his way back

has a lot of scars from travels

hands are rough and calloused (again from travels)

morning person

smells like evergreen (you know i had to, you know i did)

Radiates Heat Like A Fucking Toaster Oven

good hugs

hates tying his shoelaces

likes being the big spoon :)

has a tongue piercing

i said “some throwaway headcanons” but i ended up listing way more than i mean to. i’ll make a separate list of my rantaro headcanons someday and talk about them all in detail but for now, uh, there’s that.

SO AS FOR THE RANTARO CHARACTERISATIONS I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE:

god where to fucking begin. actually i know exactly where to begin. it’s my least favourite one just because, like i said at the very beginning, rantaro is a subversive character. i mean i think he’s kind of a low hanging fruit when it comes to that. there are plenty of other subversive characters in the dr series but rantaro is like that. you expect a flirt and u get,,, a sweetheart. but then some people (usually the ones who ship him with female characters exclusively though i will see it on occasion in an amasai or oumami fic) decide to throw that out the window and make him a total playboy!! and listen, i have no problem with people who are a little flirty. we’re kids!! flirt ur heart out!!! and hey, that’s not what this is about but y’know what? so long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, then yeah!! exercise your sexual freedom and sleep with whoever you want to!!! i don’t think there’s anything wrong with messing around a little, dating who u wanna and experimenting with ur tastes and preferences. if rantaro WAS a playboy, then there would be nothing wrong with that. i would love him just the same because he’s such a fundamentally GOOD character.

except that.... he’s.......... NOT. you slaughter one of the biggest aspects of his character by throwing away what matters to him and making him some hunky-deep-voice-dreamboat dude meant to sweep kaede/tsumugi/whomsteverthefuck off her feet. rantaro is one of those characters where he’s so blatantly not that kind of person, and it’s like. it’s an affront, almost, to portray him that way? and i do believe you should have the freedom to write what you want, since we’re in that age (aside from romanticised pedophilia and incest; that shit ain’t cute, i say this often but pro-ship DNI) where u should be able to take some liberties, but it’s just. hnnn. it’s so frustrating. rantaro does not know how to smolder! if he DID smolder, he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it. he doesn’t have people lying at his feet, okay? he’s too flaky for that. i wouldn’t say he’s unreliable but he definitely ain’t at school as much as he should be.

another one that i hate: st-stalker? what the fuck? that is not sexy that is creepy and weird?

another another one that i hate: yandere? what the FUCK??? that is not sexy that is glorified ABUSE???? the yandere trope is AWFUL bc you’re taking a controlling relationship and turning it into a fetish. NO. if he limits ur contact with other people, if he follows u everywhere, if he threatens ur loved ones, if he tries to control you, ladies and gents and nonbinaries, he’s not a yandere, he’s an abuser and you need a fucking restraining order. actually, people of ANY gender or sex can perpetuate this behaviour and IT IS NOT CUTE. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT BOUNDARIES U SET IN PLACE, IF YOUR FREEDOM IS BEING RESTRICTED THAT IS ABUSE.

hate it when people make rantaro violent. hate it when people make rantaro a murderer. hate it when people make rantaro controlling. hate it when people make rantaro overtly sexual. some kind of sultry deep voice dominant kind of figure. dude, what the fuck? i don’t,, want to make any public comments about sex positions because i think that’s kind of Strange to just talk about on a post, but i do think that the way people portray him for their smuts is,,, idk it’s weird. i’m not gonna kinkshame u but like. :eyes:

i will however accept rantaro as a thrillseeker, or a highstrung rich boy, or a total space cadet, or a himbo, or a cryptid. these are all very good interpretations of the Mans. just, like. be wary of making him two dimensional. a good character is multifaceted. if you can take a trait that clashes with all of these and SELL ME ON IT, i will buy it. if u give me good justifications, or even just good writing?? then i will accept it.

the long and the short of it is, anon, he’s my favourite so i think about him a lot. i love writing rantaro. he’s just, he’s a Guy. y’know? He’s A Good Dude, If You’ll Give Him A Shot. :) we don’t get to see very much of him but i think that there’s plenty of material if you overanalyse everything, which, as you probably all know by now,,,, i absolutely do.

thank you for the ask, this was a delight to spend an hour talking about.

[currentlyreadingmanga]

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun Chapter 21: The Tea Party (Part 1)

Previously: we went on a very stressful and very emotional trip. We finally learned Hanako’s brother’s name: Tsukasa and he continued to unsettled me like he does every single time he appears. Mitsuba actually passed away, this time for good, it seemed and it made me tear up a bit ngl. After that, the chapter decided I hadn’t suffered enough so it punched me while I was down and showed us how Hanako feels about the existence of the dead as ghosts in general and how that reflects in his own sense of self. We also got another glimpse of the mermaid and she said some real ominous shit :)))) if anything happens to Nene istg :)))))) Sigh And last but not least, Natsuhiko went to see Nene at her classroom and I’m,,,,concerned,,,,

Now onto the next chapter!

Personal update for the 50 (holy shit?) of you that still follow this blog: Well…..hi there, it’s been a while ^^;; Looking back on it, quarantine really hit me like a bag of bricks and burned me out. It’s not the first time that has happened, and what it means to me is that I just can’t bring myself to consume new content; I might have loved it so far but my brain is like “nope, we’re not doing that today” and well, this time it happened for almost two months. Also, one of my cats went missing for a little over a week (he’s home now, thankfully) and that just added to the general distress I was feeling. But over the last week I actually wrote small fics for another fandom and it finally pushed me back into a creative state, so I went back to re-read the last couple of recaps I did for JSHK and it made me realise that I miss my babies and I really want to know where the story goes, so here I am c:

Ohhhh that’s right, we’re starting a new volume with this chapter! Our main trio is front and center and judging by the colorful pastries and the tea, it is a reference to the tea party that was alluded to in the preview of the last chapter. Also, I see the ropes are back again, but this time Kou also has some around him! Nene and Hanako seem to be tied together with pink, blue and yellow ropes, Nene and Kou seem to be tied together with an orange rope and both Hanako and Kou seem to have another rope each that it’s not connected to neither Nene nor each other. Hanako’s is red and considering the way in which we’ve seen him tied up before, I would guess this represents his connection to Tsukasa. Kou’s is pink and considering everything that just happened, could his rope represent his connection with Mitsuba? Like, I know he’s dead dead now and their actual friendship was short-lived but I would also like to think that even though he’s gone, his memory will live forever with Kou, hence the rope. But I’m speculating and I already went on a long enough tangent for the cover page so let’s move on.

The next color page has the main trio again as the central focus in what seems to be the inside of a place that has a clockwork-like mechanism. On the corners of the page we have who I assume will be important character during the following arc(s): Aoi, Akane, Yamabuki and Teru (the latter one worries me slightly ngl). 

Ohhhh okay, the content page says that one of the arcs is called “the three clock keepers” so the art on that page now makes more sense.

……….I really don’t trust him hhhhh please be careful, Nene, please don’t let your weakness for pretty boys cloud your judgement.

Ohhh it could be because of Nene’s dress and the bunny ears (and the twins) but the title page gives me strong Alice in Wonderland vibes. It’s a cute picture but Tsukasa is there and Nene is tearing up so I’m,,,concerned 

Okay so Nene followed Natsuhiko outside and 

Are you reciting her your dating profile or something? also “call me Natsuhiko-senpai ♡” omfg he’s one of those, huh? Like, it could all be an act but he’s looking less and less threatening by the minute lol

Nene, bless her, has the common sense of asking him why he wanted to talk to her all of the sudden and he says it’s because “someone wants to meet her”. Gee, I wonder who that could be :)))))

…………….oh, oh no. Nene, sweetie, I need you to run and to run fast because this boy is up to no good and you’re not gonna  like what’s gonna happen. (Edit note: also this brings up a question: how did the chaotic trio know that Nene turns into a fish when she touches water? Like, I know they had been keeping tracks on her and Hanako for some time, so maybe they found out that way? Oh, maybe they use the Mokke? Because the Mokke were there in Yako’s boundary when Hanako pushed Nene down the waterfall)

Hhhhhhh and to the surprise of no one, there’s Tsukasa here to make Nene’s day more difficult.

asdasgdjash please do not make my daughter share the same fate as the puffer fish, she doesn’t deserve it (ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；)

Nene fainted (can’t say I blame her jfc) and now she’s waking up in what seems to be the tea party and the floor is wet! so she thinks she could be on another boundary. Interesting, I wonder which number would this one be? Because the boundaries are assigned to the seven mysteries, right? So one of them should be in control of this place. Could Tsukasa be in control of this one? But that wouldn’t make much sense because he managed to get his “physical” form only recently, right? However, Hanako also spoke of a traitor that was changing rumors and we know that these three are responsible, so if they’re not the owners of the boundary maybe they somehow managed to manipulate the mystery that does control it? Oooor it could also be that there’s another boundary that managed to go under the radar and in turn the other mysteries don’t know about it.

sjdgjjasd she’s so done with them lol I know I call them the chaotic trio but it’s really the chaotic duo + Sakura. I’m so curious about how this whole *gestures wildly towards them* arrangement came to be.

Ohhhh this great! So Sakura got everything under control and from her introduction to Nene we now know that she’s a third year and we have confirmation that she became Tsukasa’s assistant in the same way that Nene did, in exchange for a wish. B U T, again, that brings up even more questions because Tsukasa said that while Amane granted the wishes of the living, he granted the wishes of the dead. So like (⚆.⚆) what’s up with that?? Is she an exception? Is she dead? Another supernatural? Or, maybe, even though it should be impossible considering what we know so far, could her wish have something to do with her being ‘alive’ in the school right now? Mhmmmm…...suspicious.

Okay but like, I actually really want to know how he fits in all of this because okay, Sakura and Tsukasa are linked together by the wish she made, but why is Natsuhiko here? Who is he? How did he end up working with these two?  He seems silly and completely whipped for Sakura, so maybe they knew each other before she made her “contract” with Tsukasa?  Hhhhh idk let’s keep reading.

Sakura says that she wanted to meet Nene because they’re in similar positions and she thought they could be good friends. And like, that’s a fair point…...but I don’t trust like that, no sir. Even if she didn’t want the boys to be so rough when they brought Nene here, the fact remains that they still kidnapped her so if this was just a friendly meeting, why would they need to do it in such a convoluted way?

Okay good, Nene is suspicious because of their methods and the amount of knowledge they have about her.

………………...sigh, I shouldn’t be surprised but bby no please don’t trust them so easily. She’s venting to Sakura about Hanako’s unpredictable behaviour and Sakura says that she can empathize with most of her struggles while Tsukasa is sitting on top of her shoulders and wrapping his arms and legs around here…...I can definitely see why she said he was cat-like because my cats do things like that when I’m sit down to write at my desk. But again, I know he’s technically a kid but I really need him to stop acting so cute because it unsettles me a lot.

Even he can see the romantic chemistry between those two. Well, thinking about it, that’s probably why they dragged her here, because she’s important to Hanako.

(;;⚆.⚆) NOPE, no, no thank you, I need you to back tf up please jfc

Nene snaps out of it and realizes that she let herself be drawn in by girl talk. She thankfully knows it was a stupid thing to do but she was just relieved and happy to have found someone who seems to understand what she’s going through, so I’ll cut her some slack. And she mentions that they don’t look like bad people but like I did, if they had innocent intentions, they wouldn’t have had to bring her by force.

………………...I feel like I’ve mentioned this before but I really hate it when either of them does this fucking face, it’s so creepy >n< also, Nene, sweetie, once again I’m asking you to run, run far and don’t look back because that look doesn’t spell anything good, especially paired with Sakura’s scared/resinged look (which makes me think that maybe her own intentions had been more innocent that I had originally given her credit for)

Hmmm. This is concerning; like, yes, Nene has to help Hanako with whatever he needs as his assistant as part of their deal and he does threaten to turn her into a fish when she pouts but I never got the feeling that it was malicious. On the other hand, Sakura’s wording (especially calling Tsukasa “Master” and saying she “can’t” disobey) and the look Tsukasa gave her make it seem like her punishment for not following his orders would be much more severe. hhhhh I really don’t like where this is going

Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||)  WHAT THE HELL THIS THAT THING WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK OH MY GO D

“We’re gonna have you disappear now” okay so, yeah, he’s doing this specifically to upset his brother. the room is fucking sinking though and omfg what even is this room?? is it really a boundary? Since this happened at this very moment, it looks like they do control it so my questions from before remain, the biggest one being “how”. Also I’ve just noticed that the eyes all over the place are very similar to the ones in the broadcasting room and now this tells me that those weren’t an artistic choice and that is terrifying.

…………………..excuse me, w h a t??? why? hello??? “she’s like this sometimes” ????? Sakura what???? I have….so many questions, the main one being why do you let her treat you like this??

……………………………………...oh…..y’know, I hate the term simp with a passion because I feel like it’s been memed to death but wow.

Hhhhhhhh it looks like she can’t stop sinking and that (and the fucking eyes) tell me that this is not normal water (since she would have turned into a fish already). She’s yelling out for Hanako and that’s how the chapter ends. I’m still :)))))) concerned :))))))))

[doing-all-write]

star light, star bright

Joe and Ben take a trip on a boat for a ice relaxing Guys Weekend. What Ben doesn’t expect is to fall in love with the owner of the boat. Or to drunkenly sing karaoke with her.

Pairings: Ben x O.C. 

Rating: E (18+, PLEASE do not interact if younger than 18)

Warnings: S M U T. Dom!Ben, but mainly Soft!Ben, bad karaoke and lots of boat and ocean puns (I’m a monster) 

Word Count: 14K

Inspired by this iconic photo: 

A/N: HELLO. IT’S ME. BACK FROM THE DEAD (Or I had three events in a row at work and wanted to D I E) but to make up for it, have a nice thiccc 14K, smutty fic!! This is my first time writing smut so PLEASE don’t judge me too harshly on it!

But as always, feedback, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! I hope you love it! 

ALSO!!! In my most favorite turn of events EVER, I have someone who wants me to tag them! So: @itsabenthing​, you’re a real one. (If anyone wants to be tagged in future fics let me know!!)

The sun beat down, scattering nets of diamonds across the water. The slow roll of Jimmy Buffet's guitar mingled with the waves slapping against the hull of the boat. The gulls screeching as they whirled through the air, diving down when they spotted dinner swimming underneath the surface. The wind fluttered the pages of the book held in her hand as she adjusted the sunglasses on her face. 

The pole she was leaning against warmed her back. She laid the book down and turned her face toward the sun. It warmed her bones and she took a deep breath in, letting the sea, salt and wind fill her lungs.

She checked her phone, made note of the time and stretched her legs and arms out, almost purring as she uncurled from her reading position. She tipped her head back, closing her eyes to soak up this moment as she patted the deck of her boat.  

She had grown up around boats. Her parents owned the Nereid marina and her earliest memories were of sitting on her mom's lap putting her small hands on top of her moms soft ones, feeling the wheel turn smoothly as she memorized the movements.  Pretty soon, she had been the one steering the boat and "learning the ropes" as she loved to tell people and thrived off of their pained groans.

She worked at the Nereid every day, learning from the people who came into the port. Incessantly asking questions. Asking about their boats, their lives, where they had come from, where they were going. Her parents had teased her for being so inquisitive but she was in awe of the people who came to the Nereid.

In her mind, they were great adventurers, living a free wheeling life on the sea that she wanted for herself. She would watch people leave and the pull in her stomach to follow them was so strong she could feel her legs tensing, as if getting ready to jump into the ocean to swim to their boat, desperate to join them in whatever adventure they had planned next. 

Her parents had expanded the Nereid so several of them littered the coast of California but the original one had passed into her care after she had graduated college. Her parents still helped out and offered guidance when she asked but overall, the original marina was hers to make the calls. It had a charming appeal to it, and between word of mouth and the incredibly Instagrammable mural she had added to one wall, people flocked to it.  

As she sat there, soaking up the warmth, she was grateful she had gotten out of bed before the sun had risen. She had woken up early, the last of the stars in the sky fading as the horizon turned from inky black to lilac as the sun began its ascent from the horizon.

Her dad had always told her that each sunrise was different. And that each one had details that would tell her how her day would go. It wasn't until she was much older and in the habit of waking up early that her father would confess he had made it up to coax her out of bed that early. 

Some people had their horoscopes, she had sunrises. Whenever she could, she would haul herself out of bed, and clutching a thermos of coffee, watch the sun rise and predict how her day would go. This morning she had a feeling in her gut that today, the sun rise would be incredible. So she slipped out of her apartment above the marina, jammed her feet into flip-flops, crammed a hat on her head and set out.

The sun rise this particular morning had been various shades of pink. The colors closest to the sun a deep red. She had thought to herself that those colors must be what it's like to be in love. She felt a tug in her heart as she contemplated how long it had been since she had been with, well, anyone since she had broken up with her last boyfriend. She quickly shook herself from her melancholy thought and cracked open her book as the sun's rays grew stronger. 

Now, the sun was beating down, making sure to fry away every last bit of the chill there had been that morning.  She decided she should head back to the Nereid and check in, see how things were going and if she needed to put out any fires. She chuckled as she murmured to herself and one gull that had landed next to her boat, bobbing with the waves, "Well if there WERE any fires to put out, thank god we're by a ocean."

The gull squaked and flew away. 

She shook her head ruefully as she stood up and raised her arms above her head, the crochet tank top she had put on over her bikini rising up above her denim shorts. 

The sea unfolded before her, reminding her constantly how wide the world was. How many people there were to meet, so many stories to hear and places to see. Her body shivered involuntarily as she contemplated the vastness of it all. 

~~~

Somewhere close by to where her boat had just been anchored, another boat was getting ready to pull into the Nereid marina. 

"BEN! HOIST THE BOOM AND GET 'ER READY TO COME STARBOARD." 

"Do you know anything about boats, mate?" Ben scratched his head as he contemplated Joe's Captain Morgan pose. 

"No, not a damn thing. But it sounded convincing right?" 

"Yeah, it's the confidence, ya know?"

"It's all about confidence Benny boy." Joe said, slapping Ben's shoulder as he joined Ben at the rail.  

Ben offered him a beer which Joe accepted with a quick thanks, the sharp crack of the tab opening piercing though the air.  

Ben held his can aloft in a silent cheers and Joe brought his over to gently tap the rim of Ben's. They nodded to each other and raised the drink to their lips as they took a sip.

The sun beat down on them, warming the tops of their heads as the ocean stretched out in front of them.

Joe took another sip as Ben asked, "So, are we getting to port soon? What's the plan?"

Joe considered it, "Well, we plunder first,"

"Obviously."

"Then we do some light pillaging,"

"Of course,"

"Then have a nice meal together because you're my friend"

"That's lovely buddy thank you." Ben leaned into Joe as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving him an awkward side hug.

"Anything for you, Ben."

"Hate to interrupt this touching display of male friendship but we're almost to port" Rich, the  actual captain, called down to them as he deftly steered the craft towards land. 

Joe peered up at Rich from under the brim of his baseball cap, "Shouldn't I be the one making those announcements? I am the captain after all."

Ben snorted, "Correctly identifying the starboard and port side does not a captain make."

"You're just jealous my nautical knowledge is so much better than yours."

Rich barked out a laugh as he shook his head, "The amount of nautical knowledge you have wouldn't even fill a Post-It note."

Joe pointed a thumb back at Rich, "I'm not sure we should trust this guy with our safety out in the open sea."

"I feel much safer in his hands than yours." Ben chuckled.

Joe gasped and brought a hand up to his chest, "I'm being attacked! My character is being demolished by my best friend and Rich!" 

"What? We aren't best friends?" Rich deadpanned.

"Not with those insults you keep hurling my way, buddy." Joe wheeled around and pointed an accusing finger at Rich.  

Ben laughed and stared back out at the horizon. He obviously knew the world was round but he could almost understand why people thought the world was flat for so long. He felt like if he stared at the horizon long enough, he could fall right over the edge and into the swirls of a galaxy.

Joe sidled up to his friend, eyeing him as he watched Ben's shoulders loosen up.

"You enjoying being in the cold grasp of that fickle mistress, the ocean, Benny?" Joe broke the silence as he clapped a hand down onto Ben's shoulder. 

Ben snorted, "Absolutely. A pirate's life is a wonderful live and all that." 

"It sure is." There was a. pause as Joe contemplated how he wanted to best introduce the next topic.

Finally settling on, "Speaking of she's and fickle mistresses and all that, how have you been doing since the breakup?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "It comes and goes in waves, ha." Joe let out a snort at his friends unintentional ocean pun. 

"No, but, some days I think I'm okay and then something happens to remind me of her or our time together and I feel a twinge but," here Ben paused and cocked his head to the side, "I think that's just normal."

Joe nodded sagely, "Yeah. give yourself time, man. That was a long relationship. You're not going to get over it right away."

Ben nodded as he brought the beer can back up to his mouth to take a sip and surveyed the horizon. He could see the brightly painted mural getting larger by the second. 

Rich sighed as he deftly steered the boat toward the Nereid. He had worked with Az and her family since he was young. He and Az were basically siblings, which is why, when he saw her standing on the deck of her boat tying it up, he laid on the horn.

Az jumped a foot in the air, dropping the rope she had been holding and managing to hit her head on the boom all at once. 

"Fucking hell..." her voice drifted off as she turned around to see what asshole was responsible for taking ten years off of her life. 

When she saw Rich pulling into the port with their most expensive boat she extended both middle fingers in a salute, complete with huge grin. 

Rich laughed as he saw Az's two-fingered salute but the horn blaring had caused both Ben and Joe to jump and spill some of their beer.

"What the hell, man?" Ben shouted as he stared up at Rich.

"Yo, Rich, what was that about? Did someone cut us off?" Joe asked

Rich shook his head, "Sorry guys, I saw Az and wanted to fuck with her."

Ben and Joe looked at each. Joe cocked an eyebrow and Ben shrugged. They wandered over to the front of the boat to see what was going on. 

Ben's first glimpse was of the sun reflecting off of her hair, causing it to look like gold. Then the two middle fingers raised high. 

Joe noticed the shit-eating grin before he realized that she was directing her two prominent fingers at the man standing near the top of their boat. 

Az noticed the other two figures on the boat about a second too late and lowered her hands, feeling bad that they may have thought she was flipping them off. She raised one hand in a sheepish wave as they pulled closer. 

She laughed ruefully to herself as she turned back to securing her boat, Figures, she thought, the one time Rich actually has two cute guys in the boat I'm flipping them off.  She took one final sweep of the deck as she shoved her book into her backpack and swung it over her shoulder. 

She leapt from the deck of her boat onto the dock, landing with her arms raised triumphantly, waiting for Rich to cast judgement on her landing. 

"And Az sticks the landing! The crowd goes wild! The judges give her all 10's!!" Rich imitated the screams of an energetic crowd as she waved and gave an exaggerated bow to her audience of...three now.

She came out of her bow and saw the two guys she had accidentally flipped off standing behind Rich, clapping along with him.

"Thank you, thank you. Please, no, c'mon, it was nothing." She said with mock modesty as she laid a hand across her heart and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

"How's your head doing?" Rich asked as he engulfed her in a hug.

"Well, I DID hit it on a large piece of wood so...not great."

"Ahh, c'mon. We were just having a good time."

"Were we?" She shot back as she stepped back and looked over his shoulder, "Hi, I'm Az, I definitely wasn't flipping you two off. I felt bad when I realized he had you guys on board."

"Oh no, I'm used to pretty girls flipping me off, it's fine." Joe said as he stepped forward with a hand extended. 

Az let out a bark of laughter as she slipped her hand into his as they exchanged pleasantries. 

Az turned to the blonde standing next to Joe and was barely able to keep the "Jesus FUCK you're gorgeous" from falling out of her mouth. 

But he WAS. From a distance she could tell he was going to be cute but up close? Az was eternally grateful that someone as beautiful as this man could exist and be right in front of her.

He was checking all her boxes too; blond hair, dazzling smile, beautiful body (God she should ask who his trainer was and send them a fruit basket and a thank you note) the only thing that would really make him perfect was-

"You alrigh'?"

A fucking British accent. 

Her eyes widened and Rich smirked. They both knew that she was well and truly fucked. 

~~~

"Hey, Sal, how's it going?"

"Great, Az, the fish are biting and the sun is shining. Can't ask for more, eh?"

"Got that right. You stay out of trouble, alright?"

"Back at ya, sweetheart."

She waved at him as she continued down the marina. The sound of her flip-flops thwacking against the wood alerting her arrival to both regulars and newcomers at the Nereid alike.  

Joe, Ben and Rich were sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the clear blue, watching her make her way down the boardwalk. After introductions had been made, Az had parted apologetically, saying she needed to do a lap but she would love to properly show them around once she came back.

"Does she talk to everyone?" Joe asked as he saw her stop at the dock next to Sal's and start talking animatedly to the woman there.

"Pretty much. I mean, she does own this marina so it would be kind of shitty if she didn't." Rich shrugged and readjusted his sunglasses. 

Ben shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket, "She OWNS this marina?" 

"Yeah, her parents opened it and she took it over when they started branching out to other locations. This one's the most popular though, mainly because of her," Rich inclined his head to her retreating back. "And it's because she talks to everyone. Everyone loves Az." 

"I've been meaning to ask, is her real name Az? Like, A Z?" Joe asked.

Rich snorted, "No, her real name is Azure which is a sick name but she thinks it's pretentious so she shortened it."

Joe nodded while Ben kept his gaze glued on Az as a little boy ran up and tugged on her shorts. She laid a hand over her heart as the child handed her a seashell with a huge grin on his face. Ben felt a smile growing on his face as she bent down to accept the gift, handling the shell with extreme delicacy, listening to the little boy as he told her everything he went through to get it.  

Ben was entranced by her. When they had pulled into the Nereid he could tell she was cute. But when he had seen her up close, felt the full effect of her smile, how her eyes sparkled in the sun, the freckles dusted across her cheeks, he felt his breath hitch.

He could vaguely tell that Joe and Rich were talking about other things but he kept his eyes trained on Az. On her hair falling down her back, the way her hips swayed as she walked, the way it caused her ass to move- 

"BEN. Come back to us buddy." 

Ben jolted as he almost lost his grip on the edge of the dock, catching himself before he landed in the water, "What?" 

"Rich said Az knows some good places for us to grab dinner and they'd love to take us out, does that sound good to you?" Joe asked as he furrowed his brow, reaching a hand out to steady Ben.  

Ben cleared his throat, "Uh, yeah, that sounds great, thanks man." He inclined his head at Rich who just stared back at him, eyes inscrutable behind black Ray-Bans. Ben's gut suddenly dropped to the bottom of the ocean as he had the horrifying thought that maybe Rich and Az were dating. 

Ben quickly dropped his gaze to the blue depths underneath his feet, wondering if it would be worth it to just jump in, start swimming and never look back. 

Suddenly, Rich sprang up from the dock, "I'm gonna go check on Az, see what her ETA is to be done. I'll be right back." And with that announcement, strode off. 

Joe's brow furrowed as he stared at Rich's back. "I don't know what just happened but I would say that we pissed off our captain." 

Ben grunted as he kept his gaze laser focused on the fish cutting swiftly through the waves. 

Joe tapped his foot against Ben's, "Hey, man, you know, you can communicate with me through more than monosyllabic sounds." 

Ben huffed as he ran a hand through his hair, "I know. Sorry. I got myself all turned 'round but I'm okay now."

Joe's eyes cut over to Ben and as casually as he could, asked, "Was it about Az?"

"Uh-I mean-Not, like, explicitly but-"

"Well the way you were checking out her ass was pretty explicit I gotta say, Benny boy."

Ben's cheeks immediately turned red as he raked his brain for something witty to say. He finally sighed and dropped his head into his hands, "It was pretty obvious wasn't it?"

"You looked like one of those cartoon characters when they see a pretty lady and their eyes bug out of their head."

Ben groaned into his hands, "Dammit! She's just so hot and I don't know, maybe it's the ocean air doing something to me but I couldn't stop staring at her and then I saw Rich staring at me staring at her and now I'm worried that she and Rich are dating and I fucked up."

Joe slowly nodded his head as he contemplated Ben's predicament, "Well, it's good that we're by the ocean. If that's true you can always just drown yourself."

~~~

"He was drooling over you."

Az made an indelicate "OOF" noise as Rich grabbed her arm, doing a do-si-do move so she was facing him.  

"Who? The Springer's dog? Because they just told me they tried some new medication to help with that-"

"No. What?" Rich furrowed his brow, "Is that really a thing you can do for dogs?"

Az shrugged, "I guess so. I'm not a vet, nor do I own a dog so my knowledge of cutting edge veterinary practices is sketchy to say the least."

Rich glanced over his shoulder to stare at the basset hound that was, indeed, sporting no less than three uninterrupted strands of drool which was three less than what he normally had.

He shook his head as he turned back to Az, "Okay, that's BESIDES the point. Though I do want to talk to them about that, I'm intrigued...ANYWAY. No. BEN was."

Az stared at Rich for three full seconds before bursting out laughing. Rich sighed and crossed his arms, waiting for the hysterics to die down. 

Az dabbed her finger under her eye, "God Rich, that's hysterical. But seriously, why did you come over here." 

"His eyes were so laser focused on your ass that I'm surprised there's not a hole in the back of your shorts."

Az's hands instinctively went to the back of her shorts, "Thank god I wore my cute bikini bottoms then."

"You fool. You absolute buffoon. One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my LIFE was so absorbed by your ass that he almost fell off the dock when Joe yelled at him. I may be ace but that doesn't mean that I can't tell when someone is so thirsty for you that he would willingly drown for it." 

Az stood there, staring over Rich's shoulder taking all this information in. The horizon spread out before her, various shades of blue. 

"The title of my memoir should be called '50 Shades of Blue'" She finally muttered under her breath.

"AZ."

"Sorry, sorry! I heard you. I just-"

"It's always 'just' with you. You just can't because of the marina. You just can't because you're focusing on yourself. You just can't because of a million other reasons. You know what it JUST is with you?" 

Az winced with each accusation hurled at her, "Jesus, just tell me so this can be done."

Rich took a deep breath and gripped her shoulders as he leveled his gaze at her, "You just don't believe you deserve this. You just are scared that someone will leave and you'll be left hurting like you were when your ex left you. But you know something? Even if this perfect replica of Michelangelo's David doesn't work out, you'll a) have a great story and TWO-"

Az's lips quirked into a half smile at Rich's lame attempt at humor.

"Is that you'll at least have given it a try. And I'll always be here for you to sing-scream 'thank u, next' with if he turns out to be a dick."

A laugh bubbled its way out of Az's throat, "Okay but like, we've already done that so often they threatened to call the Coast Guard on us."  

A steely look settled over Rich's face, "And Barb from port five can still eat my entire ass. MY POINT though," at this, Rich ducked his head down to look right into Az's eyes, "just go for it, Az. Please."

Az's eyes flickered down at the water lapping underneath the boardwalk. The sun filtered through the cracks of the woodwork causing small sparks to light up as it hit the water flowing underneath. 

She heaved a sigh, "Alright, FINE. Besides, if he's truly as into me as you say he is, this should be easy."

Rich clapped his hands, "Oh sweetheart, it's going to be easier than getting the Springer's dog to stop drooling."

~~~

To lighten the mood, Joe had started throwing rocks and bits of wood into the water yelling, "she loves Ben, she loves him not" with each plop while Ben kept threatening to push Joe into the water. 

"You almost hit a fish with that one." Ben said, in a desperate attempt to distract Joe.

"He looked at me funny."

"They're fish. They look at everything funny."

"Fair point."

"Oh fuck, there's one swimming right at me."

"GET HIM, BEN. SHOW HIM WHO'S BOSS." Joe yelled. 

Ben squinted one eye and gently tossed the piece of wood into the water near the fish. 

"I'm going to call the cops." Came Az's voice in a sing song from behind them.

Ben turned around to find Rich and Az strolling back towards them. Az's arm hooked through Rich's which caused Ben's stomach to plummet.  

She slipped her arm out from Rich's and dug her phone out of her pocket, "Hello? 9-1-1? Yes, this man here is abusing fish." 

"Fuck, dude, we gotta get out of here. I can't go back to the slammer again." Joe laughed as he hauled himself up. 

Ben smiled as he swung his legs up onto the dock. His feet fell next to Az's, encased in flip-flops, toenails painted bright pink as he traced the line of her legs up to meet her eyes. 

Az's hand trembled a little as she offered it to Ben, "Need a hand?" A soft smile grew across her face as his blue eyes met her own. 

The blue of the ocean was nothing compared to how blue Ben's eyes were, Az decided. 

The green of Az's eyes were the most beautiful color he had ever seen, Ben decided. 

The silence stretching between Ben and Az had gone on long enough, Joe decided. 

"SO. Rich. What restaurant are we going to?" Joe loudly asked as he clapped his hands together, breaking the spell. 

Az blinked and giggled nervously as she helped haul Ben to his feet. He smiled down at her and thanked her. 

"No worries, you're lighter than expected." 

"These are fake muscles. A pain in the ass to inflate every morning but so worth it."

The burst of laughter that erupted from Az made Ben smile wider. 

She reached a hand out and wrapped it around his bicep, "So, if I squeeze too hard it'll pop?"

"Like a balloon."

She kept her eyes trained on Ben's face as she squeezed his arm and holy god she was not prepared for how solid it would feel. It took all of her will power not to get on her knees and beg him to choke her right there in front of God and everyone. 

She cleared her throat, "Haven't heard anything pop yet."

"Well, clearly, your hand strength needs to be built up." 

"I think there are some guys who would argue my hand strength is just fine." Az said without thinking. Her eyes widened as she realized the words that had fallen out of her mouth. Ben's breath caught in his throat as the image of Az's hand wrapped around his cock infiltrated his senses. 

Rich's mouth dropped open as Joe made a noise that sounded vaguely like a hamster getting strangled. 

Az ripped her hand from Ben's bicep "Well, I don't know what we're doing standing around here for, I promised you guys a tour so let's get started." She sped away down the pier, mentally chastising herself for coming on way too strong.  

Rich stared at Ben, standing stock still, then at Joe who looked like he'd been hit on the back of the head with a two by four, and muttered, "Well, this is going to be easier than I thought."

~~~

"And this is the mural I commissioned from a local street artist. I actually caught her tagging a wall and I loved her work so much I hired her on the spot."

Ben and Joe stepped closer to take a closer look at the mural that depicted the ocean in a psychedelic fashion. Brightly colored fish, seaweed, shells, sea nymphs ("mermaids are overrated, it's all about sea nymphs now." Az had declared when Joe made a Little Mermaid joke) dolphins, sharks, even an octopus, in neon colors adorned the side of the building. 

"It's really popular with Influencers and such. Tourists come to take pictures of it, it's been nothing but an incredible draw." Az said as she trailed her fingers over it as she walked down the wall. Her finger tips landed on the shark and she turned to look over her shoulder, "This guy is my favorite." 

Ben meandered closer to get a better look at it, "Why is that?"

Az shrugged as she moved to stand beside Ben, "I've always liked sharks. I think they're fascinating and get a bad rep. We're the ones infiltrating their home. If someone tried to come into my home and polluted it at the same time, I'd probably consider eating them too."

Ben nodded slowly as his gaze drifted over the mural. "I like the octopus."

"Yeah? Why's that."

"He has a chill vibe about him."

"I can respect that."

Watching Ben and Az joke about the killer weed the octopus had, Joe hesitantly asked the million dollar question,"So, Rich, how long have you and Az been together?"

Rich snorted, "Too long." Hearing the squeak that came from Joe, hastily realized what he meant, "Oh, like, romantically? You think Az and I are, like, together together?" 

"Um, yeah dude. You seem pretty comfortable around each other and I just assumed..." Joe's voice trailed off as a bemused grin melted over Rich's face. 

"Are Az and I close? Yes. Do I love her? Absolutely. Is she a giant pain in my ass? Since day one when she told me I give off too much of a 'Jimmy Buffet' vibe. Am I also ace so therefore have no desire to date her or anyone? Oh you bet your sweet ass." 

"So...Ben's clear to shoot his shot?"

"Ben's so clear to shoot his shot the whole fucking playing field is barren." 

"You don't know the first thing about sports do you?" 

"Not a thing my man." Rich confirmed cheerfully. 

~~~

The sun had begun to make it's descent and the first whispers of orange and pink began to crawl their way up into the sky. 

Seeing how small the gap between the sun and the horizon had gotten, Az clapped her hands together as she turned to the group, "So, if you guys are interested, there's a great bar nearby that I can get us either free or deeply discounted drinks. You in?"

Joe stared at Az for a beat then threw an arm around her shoulder, "I've never loved anyone more." 

Az laughed as she rested her head onto Joe's shoulder, "And I'm sure it was me flipping you off that won you over and not the promise of free drinks." 

"I've never been so into anything in my life." Ben muttered as he stared at Az. The words came out more intense than he intended. Az felt a warmth spreading through her stomach as she lifted her head from Joe's shoulder. 

Ben blinked at his own intensity but didn't break his gaze from Az's as he stepped closer to her. The movement of her throat as she swallowed was the only thing that broke his gaze. 

Rich's eyes were ping-ponging back and forth, relishing in the sexual tension. 

Joe slowly slid his arm off of Az's shoulders and hesitantly stepped back. 

Az could feel the heat building in her belly, a flush spread across her cheeks as she blinked up at Ben. The voice in her head finally snapped to attention and reminded her to say something, anything. 

Her tongue poked out to swipe across her bottom lip. Ben shifted as his eyes darted down to track its journey, using  his willpower not to capture her lips with his. 

"Good, because the night's just getting started." Az said thickly as she slide her hands into the pockets of her shorts.

Only Rich caught her trying to wipe off her palms in her shorts and rolled his eyes. 

He knew from personal experience that Az's palms always got extra sweaty whenever she flirted, clearly even a target as easy as Ben couldn't escape her clammy palms. 

He just prayed that he wouldn't try to hold her hand in the next 20 minutes. 

~~~

Az jiggled the worn handle on the innocuous wood door. She turned her head to glance back at Ben, "Don't worry, this is usually what happens." 

"Good, because sketchy unmarked door? In an alleyway? I figured you had just lured us back here to murder us and wear our skins." 

"Fucked up that you thought that. I would never wear your skins. I'd preserve them, stuff them and then use them as tasteful decor."

"JESUS Az." Rich declared as he stared at her, slack-jawed. Joe's face was caught in between amusement and horror.

Az winced as she finally got the doorknob to turn, "Too much?"

Ben waltzed through the open door, "Don't think there's ever 'too much' of you, love." 

Az's cheeks flushed and she squirmed as he aimed a wink in her direction before stopping in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. 

There were Christmas lights strung all around the perimeter of the bar. Tables haphazardly littered the floor with chairs floating in between tables like so much debris. The back of the room was taken up by the actual bar. To the right, a small, hastily constructed stage with a karaoke machine looked to be the only thing that hadn't been there since the 70's. 

Vintage concert posters promoting The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Carol King, Fleetwood Mac, Queen and more were wallpapered in a collage. The jukebox standing guard to the side of the front door was playing Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. There was a low rumble as patrons and bartenders talked to each other.

When the door opened and Ben stepped in, most of them turned to peer curiously at who had just entered but didn't paid him, or Joe, any mind. A few hands went up and some greetings were called out in response to Rich's greeting as he waltzed into the establishment.

Then Az walked in.

"AZ!"

The bar exploded in a flurry of sound and movement as chairs were abandoned and tables shoved as a crowd foamed up around Az. Ben, Joe and Rich were forced to shuffle to the side as hands and bodies crowded around her. Most of them offering to buy her a drink or updating her on events that had transcribed since they had last seen her. Az took it all in stride. She smiled and laughed and nodded and let herself be carried by the crowd to the bar. 

When she reached the bar she turned her head and Ben saw her eyes flitting from corner to corner, trying to locate them after the crowd had bum rushed her. 

Ben raised a hand and her eyes locked onto the gesture at once. She smiled and he saw her shoulders relax. She turned back to the grizzled fisherman that was either greatly exaggerating the size of a personal body part or talking about a fish he had caught earlier in the day. 

He desperately hoped it was the latter. 

A sharp jab to his kidney brought him back to the present, "What are the odds she's getting drinks for all of us?" Joe asked as he surveyed the crowd that was three deep by the bar. Ben shrugged as Rich weaved his way to a table that was right in front of the karaoke stage. 

Ben and Joe followed Rich and sat down as if this was another normal Saturday night for him. Joe kept staring at the bar when he finally broke, "So, is that a normal occurrence? Or did you tell everyone to pull that stunt so we'd think she's cool?"

Rich snorted, "God, I wish we were that coordinated. No. This is Az's favorite bar. And again, she grew up here so a lot of those people have known Az since she was just a wee tot." 

He shrugged, "Everyone loves Az, I don't know what to tell you."

Ben felt his head nodding in agreement, then without thinking, asked, "Do you love Az?"

Rich's head snapped up so quickly he felt something pop in his neck and Joe's eyes widened a comical amount at Ben's boldness. 

Rich coughed as he tried to find the right words, "Yeah, but like a sister. I'm ace, so, romantic feelings? Not my thing." 

Ben felt like he was going to pass out. Joe could see the gears turning in his friends head and decided to help drive the point home and asked Rich point blank, "So, you and Az are not dating?"

"Nope." Rich popped the 'p' with extra verve, keeping his eyes trained on Ben.

Ben coughed into his hand, "So, uh, is she-uh-dating anyone, then?" He slouched down in his chair, hoping to offset how nervous he sounded with some laid back posturing. 

Rich watched the full grown man in front of him sink so low into his chair he almost fell off of it and thought, Jesus, they're both such idiots. I hope they bone all night.

"No. And there hasn't been anyone in a while." Then realizing how that sounded tried to make it better, "Not that there's anything wrong with her! She's amazing, she just puts all of her energy and focus into the marina. Not saying that she wouldn't do the same in a relationship, it's just-AZ! Thank GOD you're back!" Rich flung his arms into the air as Az approached their table with a tray full of drinks. 

Did you say something that didn't sound great then to make up for it you talked more which made it sound worse?"

"We've known each other too long haven't we?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll be right back." She turned and went back to the bar to return the tray Penelope had given her to transport the drinks. 

Penelope managed the bar and was always willing to let Az pick up some shifts bartending when she needed some extra cash. When summer time got to be particularly heady, Penelope would entice Az to work with promises of free shots and unlimited baskets of deep-fried mac and cheese. 

"So, Az. Your new friends are, how do I want to say this? Absolutely stunning."

Az kept her eyes down as she slipped the tray on top of the stack behind the bar, "Yeah, I guess. I don't know if I would describe Rich as stunning but-"

A sharp sting landed on her hip causing her to yelp, "What was that for?" 

Penelope stood with the towel already rewound and ready to strike again, "You know damn well I'm not talking about Rich and if you don't tell me why blondie can't keep his eyes off your ass I'm gonna smack you again."

She pulled her arm back to show she was serious and Az scampered to the other side of the bar with hands held up, "OKAY! Okay! I'll tell you, just-be cool man. Put the towel down."

Penelope stared at her. 

Az rolled her eyes, "If I sleep with 'blondie' tonight do you really want me to be covered with tiny red marks and he's so disgusted by my disfigurement he jumps into the ocean to get away from me?"

Penelope's eyes narrowed as she considered, "Alright, fine." The towel lowered as she tucked it into her back pocket, "But I still want answers. No one that beautiful has come into this bar since last time you came in."

"Lop, you flatter me."

"I know. It's a tactic to get more information from you."

"I should be mad but I'm just so honored you think I'm beautiful I'll tell you anything."

"Alright, what's your social security number?"

"Not that flattered."

"SPILL. NOW." Penelope ordered, slamming her hands on the bar.   

Az rolled her eyes, "ALRIGHT, GOD. I went out on my boat this morning and as I pulled back in so was Rich with-"

"I so wish you had said pulling out."

"Will you let me FINISH?"

"Bet you won't be saying that later tonight. Blondie looks like he knows how to eat pussy."

Az threw up her hands, "You know what? No. You don't get to know ANYTHING now because you can't behave yourself. Are you HAPPY?"

Penelope shrugged, "Not as happy as I would have been if you'd said you'd pulled out."

"You're impossible."

"So I'll see you in the morning for coffee and a recap of your sexual escapades?"

"Of course. Love you."

"Love you too," Penelope said to Az's retreating back. 

~~~

As she slid into her chair, Az lifted her glass in a toast, "Cheers, I'm glad Rich picked your guys' sorry asses up."

Her eyes met Ben's in the gloom and he saw the Christmas lights reflected in her eyes like so many stars. 

"I'm glad that he picked us up too." Ben smiled at Az and let his gaze linger with hers as he took a long pull from the glass. 

Az couldn't stop herself from staring at his lips. How full they were. How good they looked wrapped around that glass. How good they would look wrapped around certain parts of her anatomy. 

Rich and Joe exchanged glances as Ben and Az fell into a loaded silence. Rich took a gulp from his glass and slammed it onto the table, "WELL. I, for one, am not going to let this night go to waste. It's karaoke time."

Az's eyes lit up as she whipped her head, "You're so right. It absolutely is."

Joe was bouncing up and down in his seat, "Thank GOD someone else brought it up because I was about to ask if I could get dibs on first round."

Ben groaned, "Do we really have to do this? I'm not much of a karaoke guy."

Az turned to him, "You will be after you have about five more of those," indicating the half finished beer in front of him, "so drink up. Because I have a feeling Turn Around Bright Eyes is going to be our big duet." 

Ben's mouth fell open in shock as Joe cheered and Rich rolled his eyes, "God, Az. I fucking hate that song. Even when they covered it on Glee it was still a trash heap."

"Everyone hates that song but by god is it the perfect karaoke number."

Rich opened his mouth to argue, mulled over Az's statement and shrugged his shoulders in defeat, "I can't argue with that logic."

"Oh real help you are." Ben shot to Rich.

"Sorry Benny Boy. We all gotta pay the piper for free drinks somehow. In this case, it's total humiliation in front of an audience." . 

Ben rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink as Az, Joe and Rich cheered. "Let's get this fucking over with."

~~~

"CAUSE I'M MISTER BRIGHTSIIIIIDEEEEE! GUITAR SOLO!" Ben launched into an epic air guitar solo, complete with white man overbite, as Rich gawked. 

"Holy shit, he's such a dork, I can't believe you want to sleep with him, Az. Az?" Rich looked over to see Az flailing as she air drummed along, threatening to hit anyone within a five foot radius.  

Joe was blissfully jamming to the air bass guitar, eyes closed, not a care in the world. 

Rich shook his head in amazement as he finished the last of his drink. 

The table was littered with pint glasses, most empty, a couple filled with a sliver of amber liquid. They had worked their way through most of the karaoke classics. Joe's rendition of Livin' On a Prayer brought the bar down and Az's version of I Wanna Dance With Somebody definitely had Ben feeling some type of way. 

They were well into hour three of karaoke, with most of the patrons clearing out after hour one. Penelope had gotten several incriminating videos of Az that she could barely wait to show her in the morning. 

Lop was currently wiping down the counter, eyeing the plug of the karaoke machine as the final notes of Mr. Brightside died out as Ben looked up, surprised to find himself on his knees after his impassioned performance. 

Az, Rich and Joe were on their feet, whopping and clapping wildly as Penelope gave Ben a nod, the most encouragement she had given him all night. 

Ben stood up and gave a bow then stumbled as a whirlwind of laughter and cheering enveloped him in her arms, carrying the scent of coconut and salt with it. Az was laughing in his ear as she hugged him and pulled back to reveal her smile, making the whole room seem to glow. He stared at it, committing it to memory.

"C'mon Benny boy, it's last call." Az was saying as she wrapped an arm around his waist, "and Lop does not like it when we push our welcome." 

"Some of us have things to do Az!" Lop called from the bar where she was stacking glasses. 

Az rolled her eyes as Ben slung a heavy arm around her shoulders. Joe and Rich were by the door holding it open for the two of them as they sauntered through, the alcohol leaving them warm and loose but coherent. 

"So, have you seen the boat we arrived on?"

Az snorted, "You mean the one that belongs to my marina? Yeah, I may have seen it once or twice." She pinched his waist as he protested, "Alrigh'! It was a conversation starter. You know? One of those things were I say something, then you say something else?"

"I know how conversation works, Ben."

"Are ya sure? Because you've been pretty quite."

Az's mouth dropped open in shock as she stuttered a response and Ben chuckled warmly as he pulled her in closer to his side, "'M jokin' love. Don't worry." 

Az's head lolled into his chest, trying to hide her grin at being called love, as she groaned, "Have I told you you're a giant pain in my ass, Hardy?"

"A few times, maybe." Ben smirked as his hand slid down her back to rest on the curve of her back that sloped down to her ass. 

Az inhaled sharply as she felt his hand move lower. Ben tried to act like he hadn't heard her but his widening smirk gave him away. 

They rounded the corner and saw the marina rise up before them. The sound of the ocean softly lapping against the hull of the boats bobbing up and down momentarily bringing a sense of serenity to Az. 

Ben was transfixed by the change that came over her when she stared out at the ocean. The wind picked up her hair, like the wind was trying to pick her up and take her where she needed to go. Her eyes were fixed on a spot out on the horizon and Ben wanted to follow those eyes wherever they went. He inhaled the scent of the sea and knew that he would always think of Az whenever he smelled the ocean from now on. 

"Sing us a SONG on the PIANO man! Sing us a SONG TONIGHT!" Ben turned to see Rich and Joe stumbling up the dock, arms wrapped around each other and he couldn't figure out who was helping who continue to be upright more. 

"Are they both managing to hold themselves upright? On each other?" Az had turned in Ben's arms when she heard the singing. She had drapped her arms around his neck, peering over his shoulder and could feel his chest vibrate as he laughed. 

"We shouldn't judge too much, we're kind of doing the same thing." He murmured into her ear. 

"Yeah but, we're not THAT intoxicated. I can stand up perfectly fine on my own, see?" Az extricated herself from Ben's hold and he immediately shivered at the loss of contact. Az stood before him and over-exaggeratedly stamped her feet into the ground and put her fists on her hips as she beamed at Ben. 

Ben couldn't help the smile that broke over his face and Az's own smile grew wider as she contemplated the beautiful boy before her. His eyes reminded her so strongly of the ocean, always changing color but still feeling like home. He was charming, kind and funny. She was smitten. And she was fairly sure he was as well. 

But she didn't want to assume. It would rip her from the inside out if she made a move and he gently let her down with that accent and those eyes looking at her with pity. She couldn't handle that. 

Ben watched as a conflict raged behind Az's eyes, causing her posture to deflate. He tilted his head, trying to decipher what had happened but was jolted forward as Joe rammed the full force of his body mass into Ben's back.

Ben had a height and muscle advantage on Joe but when Joe had alcohol and the love he had for his friends coursing through his veins, no one stood a chance. 

"BENNY BOOOY THE PIPES THE PIPES" Joe belted into Ben's ear, causing him to flinch, 

"Hey buddy, you doing okay?"

"Ben, I am better than you have ever been or ever will be." Joe's eyes were going in two different directions as he tried to rest a hand on Ben's shoulder but missed by a mile. 

Az laughed at Joe as Rich tucked his head into the crook of her neck and started whining about how he just wanted some french fries. 

"I uh, seem to have done more damage than I anticipated doing." She sheepishly. 

Ben shook his head, "Nah, karaoke brings out the worst in others. It was inevitable."

"Or the best." She said softly and looked at Ben with wide eyes and bit her lip. Ben shifted as he tried to come up with a response but it was challenging with Az staring at him like that and Joe trying to climb Ben's body so he could get a piggy back ride back to their boat. 

"AAAAAZZZZZ. Please, I just want some fries!" 

Az rolled her eyes and the moment ended as she turned to face Rich and grabbed the sides of his face, "Then by GOD man we are going to get you some fries." 

Joe's face lit up, "FRIES? I also want those!" 

Az giggled as Rich planted a sloppy kiss to the side of her face, "You're worse than the Springer's dog but c'mon gang let's get some starch." 

Joe and Rich cheered as they stumbled down the pier towards fries and Az tried to herd them away from the sides so they wouldn't fall into the water. Ben watched them leave and shoved his hands into his pockets. He needed time to think. To be alone. So he made his way on board the boat they had come in on. 

He climbed the ladder all the way to the top deck and laid out on his back. His arms crossed behind his head to offer some cushion as he gazed up at the stars. 

He wondered what had made Az lose confidence in herself. He assumed he had made it clear he wanted her. Maybe she didn't want him? Maybe that glimmer in her eye was her way of realizing that she just wasn't as into him as he was into her? 

He didn't think he could stand watching those eyes fill with pity as they tried to let him down gently. 

He sighed, picked out the brightest star and sent up a desperate wish. 

star light, star bright, first star I see tonight...

~~~

"I love fries. Almost as much as I love you Az." 

"Thanks Richy that's very sweet. And after watching you eat a whole basket of cheese fries in under two minutes that really means something." 

Rich mumbled something about how potatoes were his one true love as he drifted off to sleep, curled up on the recliner in Az's living room while Joe had taken up more space on the couch than a man that size should have. Checking to make sure both were asleep and not in danger of choking on their own vomit, she exhaled and scanned her apartment for her phone. The soft glow of it alerted her to its presence on her kitchen counter. 

She crept over to pick it up only to be greeted by a text from Lop,

Can't wait to see all the hickies you have tomorrow at breakfast.

She rolled her eyes and wiggled her thumbs over the keyboard as she tried to formulate a proper response. Should she tell Lop the truth? That she was so terrified of being rejected by Ben that she wouldn't even take a chance? Or should she just ignore her text and go to bed? 

She groaned, letting the weight of her head fall forward until it. thunked against her phone as she contemplated what to do. 

She lifted her head, locked her phone and slide open the balcony door. The ocean air filled her with calm as she surveyed the boats bobbing in the waves. 

She looked up and found the brightest star she could. She closed her eyes and with her whole heart started to wish. 

star light, star bright, first star I see tonight...

~~~

30 minutes had crept by and her eyes refused to close. She did everything she could think of to relax and fall asleep. She had counted sheep. She had focused on her breathing. She had pulled up an ASMR YouTube channel.

(She quickly exited out once she realized she was only clicking on videos that had ocean sounds in them and realized how idiotic that was.)

In a moment of pure frustration she threw a temper tantrum, flinging her limbs, beating the mattress with her fists. She cursed her body and brain for failing her when she needed peace the most. 

She took three deep breaths and wondered where Ben was for the 500th time that night. After leading the Drunk Brigade to get cheesy fries and when she asked him if he wanted anything and didn't receive a response, that's when she realized he wasn't with them. 

When she tried to get Joe to give her Ben's number so she could check on him, he had pulled up Spotify and started blaring "Boss Ass Bitch" which meant Az had to wrestle it from him and put a stop to it before the other drunk individuals standing in line started a mosh pit. 

After making peace with the fact that she definitely wasn't going to sleep any time soon, or even at all, she got up and hoped a walk would clear her head. Walking along the dock always put her at ease.

As the wind whipped around her, she pulled the sweatshirt she had thrown on over her shorts closer to her to combat the chill. She had planned to walk to her boat but something pulled her towards the boat that Rich, Ben and Joe had sailed in on. She liked going to the very top of it, it gave her the best view of the stars. When she was younger she liked to spend nights up there, reaching her hand up and pretending she could pluck the stars out of the sky. 

She got to the top and froze as she saw a figure laying on the ground. Immediately her heart sped up and she thought through all the possibilities. 

It could be some homeless person. They wandered the boardwalk sometimes. Maybe I could just leave and deal with it in the morning? 

Oh god, what if it's a dead body? Was her next immediate thought, Then I'll somehow be blamed for the murder and go to jail and my whole life will be ruined.

When the body stirred, the relief she felt was short lived as she realized she would have to deal with a very LIVE body. 

Direct action is the best action. Catch them off guard, knock them out, then call the cops. She slowly slid her phone out of her pocket and dialed 9 1. She nodded to herself, took a deep breath in and raced onto the deck waving her phone over her head,

"YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE DOING HERE RIGHT NOW BEFORE THE COPS GET HERE ASSHOLE"

Ben jolted awake, not even realizing he had fallen asleep, and tried to sit up only for his head to collide with something solid, causing him to fall down on his back groaning. 

Az rubbed the spot where her head had made contact with the mystery perp and wondered briefly if she was out of her depth if this person was willing to stoop so low as to headbutt her. 

Ben carefully opened his eyes as the voice said, "Okay, headbutting someone is low ESPECIALLY when you're the one who broke onto MY boat and besides, NO ONE wins in a headbutt."

He recognized that voice. 

He knew that voice. 

"Az! Az. Az, look at me. Look! It's me! It's Ben! And I didn't mean to headbutt you, but, christ, you have a dense skull."

Ben? Az lowered her arm as the words cut through her adrenaline fueled rampage. She looked down at the figure below her and fully understood what had happened when her eyes met the blue ones staring up at her. 

"Jesus, woman. You know how to give a wake up call."

Az breathed a sigh of relief, "Well you know how to scare someone! Why didn't you tell me you were up here?"

Ben looked down as he shuffled his feet and muttered, "Needed some time by myself." Az cocked an eyebrow in disbelief as she chewed over what he had just admitted to her. 

Why did he need time to think? Was he worrying about her? That unspoken moment on the pier that was ruined by Az's overthinking and Rich's need for potato products after a night of drinking? 

"Wait, why are you up here? Shouldn't you be holding Rich's hair back as he vomits into a toilet or something?" Ben shot back at her accusingly. 

It was Az's turn to become sheepish and she rubbed the back of her neck, "I, um, I couldn't sleep."

Ben looked at her for a loaded moment before scooting over and patting the spot next to him, "Well, you're welcome to join me. I don't think I'll be going back to sleep anytime soon. Too much adrenaline coursing through my body." 

Az whacked him on the shoulder as she settled next to him and the smirk on Ben's face grew as he turned his face up to the night sky.

"You come out here a lot when you can't sleep?" 

Az hummed, "It's peaceful. Helps me put things into perspective."

Ben nodded, "Wish I lived near water. But I've forests near me which helps. Something calming abou' trees ya know?

"Yeah. Forests. Oceans. Mountains. Anything in nature that's bigger than you that reminds you of how small you are and how big the universe is. And how lucky we are to even be here at all."

"Oh, we're jumping right into the Deep Thoughts, huh?"

Az smirked, "I'm quite quick Hardy, ya gotta keep up."

Ben knocked his elbow against hers, "Well if we're jumping into deep thought territory, every time I look at the night sky I find the brightest star and wish on it. Helps me realize what I want to focus on in my life."

Az's eyes grew wide, "Wait, for real?"

"Yeah. Been doin' it since I was a kid. Why?"

"I do the same thing."

"You're joking."

"I swear on my LIFE."

Ben chuckled, "Well, I don't think we have to go that extreme, I believe you but, wow. Huh. Guess the universe is trying to tell us something." 

"Guess so." Az smiled back at Ben and when he didn't drop his gaze, dropped hers first. 

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she drew her knees into her chest, still feeling the intensity of Ben's gaze on her. 

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'? Not allowed to look at you?"

"You are but it just, I don't know, makes me nervous?" She flinched at the uptick that ended her remark and mentally chided herself for not sounding more confident. 

"I make you nervous?" Ben could hear the smugness in his voice and knew he should tone it down but couldn't find it in himself to do so. 

"Oh my god, I'm going to regret telling you this, but, yeah. I mean, obviously."

Ben leaned back on his hands as he studied Az's profile, "Why do I make you nervous? Not like I'm intimidating."

"You kind of are though?" When Ben made a shocked noise Az straightened up to face him, "No! No, no. Not in like, a bad way? Just in like, a, ah, you're very attractive?" She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and pulled her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt and balled them up, "And, uh, for someone like me, that's very intimidating."

"You're intimidated by me because I'm...attractive?"

"Yes, Ben! I think you're hot! Smoking! A total smoke show! You happy? And I know that you think I'm just some dorky girl who likes cheesy 80's ballads but," she flung her hands towards the heavens as if to illustrate how fruitless it would be for him to like her, "here we are." 

Ben could barely contain the smile that threatened to break his face in two. "Alrigh' well, first of all, thank you for sharing your real feelings." Az clambered up, muttering about how she had embarrassed herself enough when Ben hoisted himself up and grabbed her wrist, "but don't assume you know what I'm thinking." 

Az's body stilled and Ben knew she was listening despite her not meeting his gaze, "You just thought I felt one way abou' you? That's a little short sighted. You ever assume you know everything about the universe? I've got whole universes inside me too!"

Az peeked at Ben through her eyelashes, "You get that line from the last John Green novel you read?"

Ben gently grasped her chin with his thumb, angling her head up so she would fully look at him, "Maybe I did. There's a reason he's so popular. But don't interrupt me." Az pouted and Ben traced the outline of her lip with his thumb.

She shuddered at the contact and Ben stared into her eyes, "I've wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw your hair shining in the sun and your two middle fingers greeting us as we pulled into port. I couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you wanted to hang out with someone like me. I mean, fuck, Az," he wheezed out a laugh, "I've been losing my mind trying to find ways to be closer to you. Make you laugh. Make you smile. I sang fuckin' Turn Around Bright Eyes just because you asked." 

"And you were the best duet partner I've ever had for that song."

"While I take great pride in that, I'm on a role here."

"Sorry. Please continue."

Ben took a deep breath in, "Az, I've wanted you ever since I saw you. But then I got to know you and, fuck, that feeling has just increased. So please," his voice dropped to a whisper as he ducked his head and his lips brushed over Az's as he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Az's breath came out in shaky bursts and she didn't trust herself to move. She nodded and Ben's lips melted against hers as he cradled the back of her head and wrapped an arm around her waist.  

It felt like everything in Az was aflame. The fire that had been building in her ever since she laid eyes on Ben had reached a fever pitch.

His lips moved against hers and he groaned. Her lips were just as soft as he expected them to be. 

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. He grasped her waist with both of his hands, fingers digging into her sides to ground her to him. As if he needed to make sure that she was real and she wasn't going anywhere.

Az had no plans of leaving anytime soon. She stroked the short hairs that grew at the nape of his neck, causing Ben to grip her waist tighter and she let out a moan. 

Ben almost came as she moaned into his mouth. He could feel his cock growing harder and when Az pressed herself closer to him she could feel it as well. 

She pulled back from his mouth with reluctance and let out a shaky breath, "Someone's excited." Ben threw all delicacies to the wind, "My cock has been hard since we started hanging out." Az's eyes grew wide and Ben could clearly see how blown out her pupils were. 

The wind blew a few strands of hair across her flushed cheeks and with a glance down, Ben could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. With that thought, he traced his hands slowly up her sides as Az's breath hitched in her throat. 

"Is this okay?" Ben whispered as his hands crept up her sides, agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as Az nodded. She could barely keep herself upright, there was no way she could form words. 

Ben smirked down at her as his thumbs grazed the sides of her breasts and Az jumped. "Easy, it's okay" he whispered as he leaned down to capture her lips with his once again. 

"I know but, fuck, Ben. I've wanted you all day." Az whined and Ben was certain in that moment there was nothing more attractive than the sound Az breathlessly telling him how badly she wanted him. 

"Well, you don't have to wait anymore." He whispered against her lips and Az pressed her lips to his as she gripped his shoulders.

Ben's hands continued their agonizingly slow pace to the front of Az's chest where he realized she wasn't wearing a bra and he let out a groan, "Fuck, Az, I need you." 

"Who's the impatient one now?" Az smirked as she nipped at his bottom lip and Ben whined. 

"Is there anywhere we can go? Preferably with a bed?"

"Inside, there's a room at the end of the hall."

Ben planted a deep kiss on Az and pulled her down the hall. Az's head was still reeling with how he had just kissed her and was only slightly aware of Ben leading her through the door and down the hall of the boat to one of the bedroom's that was located on board. 

Ben turned the knob and let the door swing open as he pressed another kiss to Az's lips. Her hands were clawing at his back and he registered distantly that he might have scratches on there that he would have to explain to Joe. 

Not that he cared. 

Az fumbled behind her as she kicked the door, briefly hoping it was closed enough. Ben had moved down to kissing her neck and she couldn't think about anything else. 

She bent her head back to allow him more access as he nipped at the column of her throat, causing her to release little moans every time that were sending Ben's head spinning.

Az yelped as Ben picked her up, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist instinctively, and he deposited her on the bed where he stared down at her as she pushed herself up to her elbows and stared back. She cocked an eyebrow at him, "What?" 

"Nothing, you're just...fuck. You're beautiful."

Az's smile was bashful and she suddenly found it extremely hard to look Ben right in the eye at that moment. 

Ben, sensing her shyness leaned down so he was hovering over her body and whispered, "Now's the time when you tell me I'm beautiful." 

Az laughed, and remembered this was Ben. Sweet, caring Ben who she had spent all day pining over. She wasn't going to waste another moment getting caught up in her own head. 

Ben went back to sucking and licking at Az's neck as one hand reached up underneath her sweatshirt and traced the outline of her breast, causing Az to arch her back. 

She whined, "Ben...please." 

Ben smirked against her neck, "Please, what?" 

"Touch me. Please. I've wanted this all day." 

"Hmm, I don't know..."

"Please, sir. I'll do anything." Az breathed out before she could stop herself.

Ben pulled back and stared with wide eyes. Her own eyes were half-lidded as she stared up at him, pupils blown out, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hips bucking. 

Ben cleared his throat, "What-uh-what did you just say?"

A look of worry washed over Az, "Uhm, sir?"

"That's what I thought." he growled. 

He leaned down so his lips were right against her ear, "And since my good girl asked so nicely...I guess I'll give her what she wants."

He traced a circle that got smaller and smaller until he was tracing around her nipple as he swung his other leg around so he was straddling her and started to grind his clothed cock into her cunt. Az was only briefly embarrassed thinking about how she could cum from grinding against Ben fully clothed like some pre-pubescent 13-year old. 

She babbled. "Please, sir. Yes. Oh my god. Fuck. Ben. Please, I need more."

Ben chuckled, "I've barely touched you. If this is how you're reacting now I can't wait till I tease your little cunt with my fingers, tongue and cock."

"Oh my GOD Ben, please. I need more. Please, I'm begging you." 

Ben smirked as he started tweaking her nipple with deft fingers. He brought his other hand up to stroke her throat, testing the waters, "How do you feel about me touching your throat? Do you like that baby girl?"

Az whimpered and nodded as she desperately tried to grind her pussy against Ben's aching cock even more. He hadn't even registered how hard he was. He was so focused on Az and how needy she was, his own needs almost escaped him. 

He gently laid a hand over her throat and squeezed the smallest amount which caused Az to throw her head back and let out a moan so loud that Ben was sure every boat in the marina would hear it. 

It made his cock twitch. 

"That's my good girl." he cooed as he continued to tease her nipple. Az whimpered and reached her hands up in a grabbing motion, 

"What is it sweetheart? Use your words."

"Kiss me. Please."

Ben smiled and moved his hand from around her throat to cradle her cheek, "Of course sweetheart." The kiss he gave her was sweet, gentle and deep which caused Az's head to spin even more at the difference between this kiss and his filthy actions. Az wrapped her legs around his waist to bring him as close to her as possible. 

Ben chuckled, "You're already so needy."

Az rolled her eyes, "Shut up." and went back in for another kiss. 

Their lips moved together as Ben reached his hands down to the edge of Az's sweatshirt and gave it a little tug.

Az pulled away and ripped the sweatshirt off in record time. Ben sat up and stared down at Az's body, finally exposed to him. 

"Holy shit."

Az fidgeted under his gaze, "What? Not what you thought?" bracing herself for him to tell her he had changed his mind. 

"Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined you having a body as amazing as the one you have." 

He leaned down to wrap his lips around her nipple as his other hand came to play with the one his mouth wasn't currently occupying. Az groaned but couldn't keep the smile off of her face as she reached a hand up to tug at his hair. 

Ben switched from one nipple to the other as he glanced up at Az, "Couldn't let the other one feel left out."

"God forbid" Az breathed out as she arched her back after he gave a particularly hard nip. 

He chuckled as he came up to plant another kiss on her lips, "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

Her eyes snapped open as she felt his hands travel down her body, past her breast, where he gave her nipple one more tweak, down her waist, down to the top of her thigh as he danced his fingers up her inner thigh. Teasing her as he brought his fingers close to where she most wanted him. 

"Ben..."

His fingers stilled, "What did you call me?"

She whimpered, "Sir..."

"Better." His fingers danced closer to her cunt.

"Sir...please. I need you." Her hips were bucking desperately and Ben looked down at the beautiful woman underneath him and couldn't believe he had gotten so lucky. 

He fiddled with the edge of her shorts, as she whined. He smirked and moved to trace the outline of her pussy through her underwear, he took in a sharp intake of air, "Fuck, baby girl. You're soaking wet for me."

Az whined, "That's what you do to me. That's all for you, sir. Please." 

Ben groaned as he bent his head down to capture her lips with his as he dipped a finger into her panties and teased the lips of her pussy open. 

Her thighs fell open easily as she bucked her hips to get more of his finger inside her. Ben slowly dipped one finger inside of her, when he felt how wet she was, he added a second, and then a third. 

Then removed them entirely. 

"Baby girl, flip over onto your stomach for me."

Az looked at him curiously but did as she was told, "Like this?" she asked as she looked back at him and bit her lip. Ben groaned and palmed himself through his pants as she looked up at him with her big eyes.

She glanced down at his bulge, "Can I suck your cock?"

Ben almost choked. "Holy fuck sweetheart. You're gonna make me cum if you keep talking like that."

Az giggled and then moaned as Ben thrust his fingers back into her, "I would love for you to suck my cock but first, I really want you to cum for me." He said as he kept thrusting his fingers in and out of her dripping core.

The angle had his fingers hitting her sweet spot right away. He kept palming himself through his jeans. He pumped his fingers slowly into Az's cunt, feeling her walls clench around his fingers, her ass moving up and down as she fucked his fingers, trying to fill herself up more. She whined when Ben ripped his fingers out of her.

"Ben..." She looked behind her and saw that his shirt was off and was making equally quick work of his jeans and boxer briefs. "Take off your pants. Now." he growled as he stepped out of his own, letting his cock spring free. Az was transfixed by it. It was huge. She licked her lips as she saw the pink tip, leaking pre-cum. She groaned as she imagined wrapping her lips around it, making Ben cum down her throat. Swallowing every single drop of his cum as he moaned. 

"Baby girl?" Ben's voice broke Az out of her reprieve and she quickly reached her hands down and shimmied out of her panties and shorts and threw them into the room. 

She pushed herself up to her hands and knees and stared at Ben over her shoulder, "Well?"

Ben licked his palm and stroked his cock a few times as he admired the view of Az's ass in front of him, her pussy glistening with her wetness. 

He licked the fingers that had been in Az's cunt and tasted how sweet she was as he walked forward. He inserted his fingers back into her cunt making her hang her head and groan.

He pumped them in and out a few times and smacked Az's ass, "Lie down on your back."

She yelped but did as she was told. Ben looked into her eyes as she laid down, "I'm so sorry, I should have asked before I spanked you, I'm so sorry-"

Az cut him off with a kiss, "No! No. It was so hot. Sir." She added as she smirked up at him. Ben chuckled as he kissed her lips and moved to kiss down her body. 

Az's breath got shallower the closer he got to her pussy. He nipped at the inside of her thighs as he just barely brushed her clit with the tip of his tongue.

Az almost levitated off the bed, "FUCK. BEN. Please!"

Ben chuckled and inserted two fingers into her cunt and started making obscene sucking noises as he sucked on her clit. Az always used to say she didn't understand why people made so much noise during sex but now? With Ben working his magic on her with his fingers and tongue? She didn't know how she could be quiet. 

All too soon, she felt the familiar burning sensation in her stomach as she reached her edge, "Ben..Sir.."

He hummed against her clit which made her throw her head back and let loose a new wave of moans, "FUCK. If you do that again, I'm going to cum."

"Cum on my face then. Please." Ben said as he hummed against her clit and made a come hither motion with his fingers causing Az to completely unravel. The heat that had been building inside of her all day consumed her body as her vision went white.  

Ben kept lapping until she whimpered and tried to move away, even then he kept slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her. 

"Ben, please..." her voice came out as a whisper as she tugged on his hair to indict she wanted him to move up. Ben placed a final sweet kiss on her clit before slowly kissing his way back up her body. 

Az let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes and let the few remaining pulses of pleasure wash over her, relishing in the attention he was bestowing upon her. 

Ben paused as he took in Az's body, stretched out below him and whined in the back of his throat. 

The green of Az's eyes were revealed as she smirked at the needy sounds that escaped Ben. 

She quickly pushed Ben off of her and before he could protest too much she straddled him and bent her head down to nip at the line of his throat which caused him to cry out.

Az giggled, "Does that feel good sir?"

Ben's eyes were rolling into the back of his head as Az's core ground against his exposed cock, he could feel the wetness as he bucked his hips up into her, "God, yes, sweetheart, please that feels amazing, don't stop..."

Ben's voice trailed off as Az started kissing his collarbone, then his chest, then his stomach, when he finally registered what her intentions were, he moaned as his eyes fluttered closed. 

Az peered up at him through her lashes and couldn't stop herself from admiring how beautiful he looked. Eyelashes resting on his cheeks, chest heaving, cheeks the color of an English rose and his eyes...were staring right at her as she placed a soft kiss onto his cock. 

He whined and Az's hips bucked involuntarily at the noise. She smiled up at him and he reached a hand down to caress her cheek. 

She hummed and pressed a kiss into his palm. She turned her head back to the more important, and pressing, task at hand. 

She kissed Ben's thighs as he threw his head back and sighed in ecstasy. 

In between kisses, Az teased "I've barely touched you and you're already this needy." 

Only a sliver of blue could be seen as she looked up at Ben, "If I wasn't so desperate for you to suck my cock, I would have a much better comeback" he breathed out in between moans. 

Az smirked and curled her fingers around his cock as she licked her lips in anticipation. 

Ben was huge. She shouldn't have been surprised, Lop had even said he carried himself with an energy that seemed to imply he was hung, but god.

She wrapped one hand loosely around his cock and licked a wide stripe from his balls to the tip where she placed a gentle kiss on it.

The groan Ben let out had her swinging a leg around so she could grind her core into Ben's thigh as she continued licking his cock.

She finally, agonizingly slowly, wrapped her lips around the head of Ben's cock and started to bob her head up and down. 

Ben reached his hands down to grasp her hair and move it out of her face.

Az spit on his cock and started working her hands up and down as she peered up at Ben, "Thanks for the hair tie." 

Ben bucked his hips up into her hands as he gasped, "Not so much for you, mainly wanted to see your lips wrapped around my cock. Been thinking about that all day."

Az laughed and kept one hand pumping the length that she couldn't fit into her mouth. She looked up at Ben through her eyelashes and heard him mutter, "Fuck. Having your lips around me is even hotter than I imagined."

Az hummed and Ben screamed, "FUCK" and pulled her off of his cock, mashing his lips against hers in a frenzy, "If I don't fuck you now I'm going to hate myself forever."

Az laughed gently against his lips, "Well, we can't have that now, can we?"

Ben nipped at her bottom lip as he brought a hand up to lightly smack her ass, "Someone seems to have forgotten their place, baby girl."

Az whimpered as she felt the sting, "I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again."

"Damn right," Ben said and stilled as his eyes met Az's with concern, "I don't have any condoms on me. Are there any on this boat?"

Az pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I have an IUD. It's fine. Just, please fuck me right now. Please? I'm begging you."

Ben exhaled and grabbed Az's hips with such strength that Az knew for certain there'd be bruises the next day. 

Az clambered on top of him and lined up her entrance to the tip of Ben's cock, she slowly lowered down and the feel of her walls being stretched by his girth had her letting loose a string of curses that were almost drowned out by Ben's. 

"Fuck, Ben, you're so big, god." Az squeezed her eyes shut as she bottomed out.

Ben squeezed her hips as he took every ounce of willpower not to buck up into her and fuck her until all she could say was his name, "Jesus, sweetheart, you feel incredible. This is so much more amazing than I ever could have imagined."

Az let out a shaky laugh as she started to roll her hips forward and back. Getting used to Ben's length, working it over. Ben couldn't take his eyes off her as Az's hips started rocking harder and harder against his cock. 

He reached his hands up and grasped her breasts, rolling her nipples in between his fingers as Az threw her head back and let out a moan. Ben didn't think there was a better view in the entire world than this one. 

Az reached a hand down to rub her clit as she rocked her hips back and forth and Ben's hips snapped up into her as his hands worked on her nipples. She felt her core tightening and that familiar warmth start building inside her for the second time.  

She gasped, "Ben...sir...Ben..I'm so close, fuck, please don't stop, please"

Ben growled, "I don't plan on stopping any time soon, sweetheart."

Az moaned as she rubbed her clit harder and finally with a tweak of her nipples, Az felt herself coming undone around Ben's cock.

As she came out of her haze she could hear Ben babbling about how good she was, how tight she was, how he wanted to cum so badly. Az slowly leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ben's lips, causing him to pause in his actions. 

She pulled back and smiled at him and he smiled at her. He gently stroked her sides, then grabbed on to her waist and flipped them over so Az's back hit the bed with a "OOF" and Ben ended up on top, hands on either side of her head. 

He grinned down at her as she rubbed her hands up and down his arms, "Think you're so special huh?" 

Ben's grin grew wider as he snapped his hips into her and Az broke down into moans and strained to get more of his cock inside of her. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Yeah, I like to think so."

"Please. Just fuck me."

Ben breathed out a laugh, "You don't have to ask twice." And started thrusting into Az as she grasped onto his shoulders, arching her back.

Ben could feel his thrusts getting sloppy and knew he was close. He reached a hand down and rubbed Az's clit, "Baby girl, think you got one more in you? I want you to cum with me."

Az nodded as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, "Uh-huh, yes sir, please, I want to cum again so badly, please please please please..." the last please fell on deaf ears as Az reached her climax for the third time. Her walls clenched around Ben's cock, pulling the best orgasm he'd ever had in his life out of him shooting thick, hot ropes of cum into her pussy as they both moaned and held onto each other as if they were life rafts keeping each other afloat.

Ben opened his eyes as he and Az caught their breath. They looked at each other and burst into laughter as they came down from their highs. 

"Wow, uh, that was-"

"Amazing?" Ben asked, shyly.

Az's eyes grew warm as she brought a hand up to caress his cheek, "Yeah. Definitely worth the wait."

"Well, sorry. I didn't want to assume you wanted this as badly as I did." Ben whispered as he gazed down at Az with a soft look in his eyes

"Hmm, yes. Because a man who looks like a Greek god and can also make me cum THREE TIMES is clearly someone I don't want anything to do with." Az joked as she pulled Ben's face down to give him a gentle kiss. 

Ben rolled his eyes as Az giggled. Which turned into a whimper as he pulled his cock out of her and he chuckled when he saw her pout, "Alright love. None of that. I'll be right back."

Az sighed and stretched out on the bed. She heard water running in the bathroom and Ben emerged with a warm washcloth. 

He sat on the bed next to her and gently pulled her knees apart as he cleaned her up. Az smiled her thanks as Ben returned to the bathroom to clean himself up.

He walked out and saw Az had gotten underneath the covers, as he pulled back the covers he smiled, "Is this spot taken?"

A slow grin split her her face as she shook her head and patted the spot next to her. 

Ben clambered into bed beside her and when he opened his arms wide, Az snuggled right into them. She sighed contentedly as Ben placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. 

As they both drifted off to sleep, they both thanked the star they had wished on for making their dream come true. 

High above, the star they had both wished on, seemed to shine a little brighter as it hung right above the sleeping couple. 

~~~

Rich woke up the next morning with a headache, the feeling that he had fuzz all over his tongue and the need to never consumer alcohol ever again. He groaned as he sat up and saw Joe, who was snoring louder than a man that size should, was still sleeping. 

Rich stretched and slowly made his way to the bathroom. As he finished up and walked back out to the living room, he peered into Az's bedroom and saw her bed was empty. He shrugged, Az usually got up early so he figured she was already out on her boat. 

After making coffee and taking it out onto Az's porch, he saw her boat still in the port with no sign of activity. He cocked his head, mentally going through a list of places she could be at. 

His feet were heavy as he meandered down he dock. When he got closer to the large boat, he had arrived on the other day, he saw that the door on the uppermost floor wasn't closed all the way. Grumbling about how Joe would make a terrible captain, he lumbered aboard to take care of it.

After closing the first door, Rich did a quick sweep of the other areas to make sure everything was good to go to take Joe and Ben back out on the boat today. If Joe could stomach being on a boat after drinking so much. As he reached the floor by the uppermost deck he saw the bedroom door open at the end of the floor with light coming through it. 

He crept closer and peered through the crack. He saw Az and Ben, both sound asleep, Az curled up into Ben's chest, Ben's arms wrapped tightly around her waist. 

Rich slapped a hand over his mouth and sprinted back to Az's apartment, pumping his fist the whole way.

He quickly dug his phone out of the recliner cushions and texted Lop a million exclamation points, peach emojis and eggplant emojis.  

Almost immediately Lop texted back, "I fucking knew it." 

Rich laughed as he crept back downstairs, leaving the lovers to wake up in each others arms and to thank their lucky star.  

[arysafics]

if u do take requests please: a fic where clarke and bellamy are in a stable relationship but someone makes a comment about her body figure, and she starts to feel unconfortable and make diets, not feeling good on being naked in front of him and he notices

loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Summary: Clarke has always known Bellamy is too good for her, but it still hurts when strangers on the internet think that too.

Rated T, ~4000 words

Clarke has always known that Bellamy would make it bigsomeday. They’ve been together since he was in drama school and he starred in ashort film she wrote. It’s still the best thing she’s ever made, and it’s notbecause it’s her best writing (far from it), it’s because he made it amazing.

Since then, Clarke has given up writing scripts, findingshe’s better suited to novels, and Bellamy has had a lot of small roles in TVshows. There were a couple of recurring characters, and once, the villain in asci-fi show that ended up being cancelled after a season. But finally, his fucking agent did somethinggood for once, and got him an audition for a big action trilogy, which of course he got the lead for, starringopposite the mega-famous supermodel/actress, Echo Whiting.

The premiere was last night, and people are already goingcrazy for it. Bellamy has never been the type to keep up with social media, orread reviews about his work, but Clarke loves it. She gets a thrill every timeshe sees his name pop up on her Twitter or Facebook feed, whether it’s a reviewof his brilliant performance or just a fan screaming about how much they lovehim. Sure, it gets weird sometimes, especially because a lot of his fans arethirsting after him, but she hardly ever reads anything negative about him.

He’s still asleep, and Clarke elects not to wake him up. Hefinally has some time off after weeks of interviews and appearances, and Clarkeisn’t about to ruin his first day to sleep in.

She opens Twitter on her phone, and searches Bellamy’s name.The latest tweet is a link to an article of the best and worst dressed from thepremiere last night, and Clarke clicks on it, already knowing Bellamy will bein the best category. She finds himat number two, after Echo, and she stares at his picture, smiling to herself.She loves him because he’s kind and selfless and funny and talented. But he’salso really hot as well.

The caption reads: BellamyBlake can do no wrong when it comes to fashion. We don’t care what he wears, aslong as he keeps showing up to give us that dreamy smile.

Clarke continues scrolling, until she reaches the worstdressed. Okay, if it were up to her, these lists wouldn’t even exist. But also,secretly she kind of likes judging other people’s clothes. She has to agreethat number one on the list is kind of awful. There are just too many colourson Ontari’s dress, and all of them clash. The second one Clarke doesn’t thinkis so bad, but then, she’s no fashion expert.

She continues scrolling, and her stomach drops when she seesnone other than herself at number three. She hadn’t even realised anyone waspaying attention to her. She’s not even in the movie. She’s not a famous actor.She’s just Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend.

She doesn’t even think she looks that bad in the dress shewore last night. She felt sexy at the time, in skin tight red, and if the wayBellamy pulled her out of it after they got home last night was any indication,he thought she looked sexy too.

Her eyes scan the caption, wondering why she’s made theworst dressed list.

Look guys, we havenothing wrong with the dress itself. But Clarke, honey, it’s not for you. Sheneeds a stylist that can dress her for her body type, and hide all theunflattering bits. Oh, and by the way, this is a red carpet, not the red lightdistrict. Put those things away!

Clarke feels sick to her stomach. She looks at the pictureagain, and suddenly she can see what they’re talking about. The dress stretchesover her stomach and thighs, making her look bigger than she is. Or maybe shereally is that big. And the dress probably is too low cut for someone withbreasts like Clarke’s. Echo would probably look really good in the dress.

“Hey,” Bellamy says sleepily, cuddling up to her. Clarkeexits the article quickly, blinking back tears.

“Sorry,” Clarke says. “Did I wake you?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. What were you reading?”

“Just a stupid article,” Clarke says.

“You’re not googling me again, are you?” Bellamy grins.Clarke smiles back at him. She has to remind herself that it doesn’t matterwhat one dumb article says about her. Bellamy’s opinion is the one thatmatters, and he loves her and thinks she’s beautiful.

“Someone has to do it,” Clarke says.

“Well, thank you for being my biggest fan,” Bellamy says,leaning over her to kiss her. He takes her phone from her hands, placing itaside, continuing to kiss her, letting his hands roam over her body. She tenseswhen he grips her thigh, and he stops. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Clarke says quickly. God, she’s so stupid. She can’tlet the words of some bitch pretending to be a journalist get to her. They’rejust jealous that Clarke is with Bellamy. And who could blame them?

Even knowing this, she pushes him off her and scoots out ofbed.

“I just really need to pee,” she says, shooting him a smileto show him she’s okay.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her, but he doesn’t push it.“Okay,” he says. “We should probably get up anyway. I still have to pack.”

“We have time,” Clarke says. “Go back to sleep.” He givesher that dreamy smile everyone is so in love with, then falls back against thepillows. Clarke heads to the bathroom, wondering if she should have told himabout the article. Except she already knows what he’d say. He’d tell her thearticle is wrong, and that they’re just trying to get attention, and that sheneeds to stop reading that shit. And he’d be right, obviously. Which is why shedoesn’t tell him.

  Clarke decides she’s going to go social media free for acouple of weeks, while she and Bellamy are in Fiji. He has some time off, andwhile he loves his job and his fans, Clarke knows he tires of being the centreof attention. It will be good for the two of them to disappear, even if justfor a little while.

“No Twitter, no Facebook, no Instagram. I’m not even goingto use Google,” Clarke tells Bellamy, putting her phone on the charger. They’restaying in a tiny little private villa, close to the beach, and Bellamy isalready dressed in his swim shorts. It’s a distracting sight.

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I also know youvery well. If you last the day I’ll be surprised,” he grins.

“That sounds a lot like you don’t believe me,” Clarke pouts.

Bellamy laughs. “I believe you want to try.”

“I’ll show you,” Clarke says, poking her tongue out. “I’mnot even going to take my phone with me to the beach.”

“That sounds like a brag, but I don’t get why you would evenneed a phone at the beach.”

“Photos,” Clarke says. She picks up her phone and snaps oneof him to prove her point. “That’s going to be my new lock screen.”

Bellamy shakes his head, amused. “Come on,” he says, holdingout his hand. “The ocean is calling to me.”

Clarke takes his hand, grabbing her towel from the bed onthe way. They make the five minute walk to the beach hand in hand. It’s perfectbeach weather, warm and not too windy, and yet there is hardly anyone else onthe beach. They lay their towels down, and Bellamy waits for Clarke to take herdress off so they can get in the water. She hesitates, just for a moment. Thewords from the article run through her mind, reminding her about all her unflattering bits. She’s just wearing abikini underneath the dress, and it doesn’t cover all that much. She hadn’tlooked in the mirror when she put it on, and she’s suddenly worried about whatshe looks like in it.

Steeling herself, Clarke hurriedly pulls the dress over herhead and puts it down on her towel, trying to keep her stomach covered with herarms as long as possible. When she looks up, Bellamy is staring at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. He smirks. “Just wish we wereback at the villa instead of on this very public beach.”

“You wanted to come to the beach.”

“Yeah, but that was before I saw you in that bikini.”

“Stop it,” she says, giving him a playful shove. She stillloves it when he gets all flirty with her, looks at her like he wants to devourher. Yet part of her wonders if he’s just putting it on. Acting like he wantsher more than he really does. He grabs her arm and tugs her close, kissing her.“We shouldn’t do this here,” Clarke murmurs between kisses.

“Why?” Bellamy whispers back.

“You’re famous. People might recognise you and takepictures.”

“I don’t care.”

Clarke breaks away from his lips, trailing her fingers downhis arm and taking his hand. “We’re going swimming first,” she says, pullinghim towards the ocean. “And then when we get back to the villa you can dowhatever you like to me.”

“Okay,” Bellamy agrees, and he lets Clarke lead him into theshallows. He grabs her around the waist, and she shrieks, laughing as he kissesher, then pulls her down into the water. He loves her, Clarke reminds herself.He loves her and he wants her, regardless of what anyone else says. She has toremember that.

  Out of stubbornness and nothing else, Clarke makes it thewhole two weeks without social media. She does feel proud of herself, but thetrue prize is Bellamy admitting he was wrong for doubting her.

Of course, the first thing she does when they get home isopen Twitter, while Bellamy does the responsible thing and starts unpacking hissuitcase.

She goes through her notifications, liking questions fromfans about her next book so she can answer them later. She reads every tweetshe’s mentioned in, which usually isn’t that many, seeing as it’s been a whilesince her last book came out, and though she’s on Twitter a lot, she doesn’tactually tweet that much. Occasionally she’ll get people asking her aboutBellamy, but she never replies to those ones.

There is a tweet from what looks like a Bellamy Blake fanaccount, judging from the username.

Give Bellamy Blake anOscar @bblakefan291

@clarkegriffinwritesdid you see this? people are so mean

Clarke clicks on the tweet, wondering what mean thingspeople could possibly be saying about Bellamy. She doesn’t want to get into aTwitter war over it, and she probably won’t tell him if it’s too harsh, but shefeels like she needs to know anyway.

She finds the tweet is a reply to a picture, a photo takenof her and Bellamy while they were at the beach. Her first thought is that theyboth look really happy. They’re standing in the shallows and he’s got his armaround her and she has the biggest smile on her face. Then she reads thecomment that goes with it.

Kelly @bechorise

No offence but he cando so much better lol. What is he even doing with her?

Clarke rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the sinking feelingin her stomach. It doesn’t matter to her what some random on the internet hasto say about her relationship with Bellamy.

She knows she should just exit the app and forget about it,but she sees the tweet has three hundred likes already, and fifteen replies,and she can’t resist scrolling down to see what other people are saying.Perhaps some part of her hopes there are people defending her.

Bellamy and Echo @bellamyandecho

He should be withsomeone actually hot. Like Echo!!!!!

Georgia @georgiagg55

She actually has apretty face but she really needs to lose a few pounds

hell is empty @ladygagaisshakespeare

lmao someone finallysaid it

Bellamy Blake’s Wife @wifeofbellamyblake

I’m hotter than she ishe should be with me!!!

becho are secretlydating @bechoes

don’t worry, this isjust a cover, he’s actually with Echo. It would literally make no sense for himto be dating this nobody lol that’s all the proof you need

frankie @franksfornothing

you can tell she’s waymore into him than he is into her. He’s going to break up with her soon I canfeel it. Then we celebrate ladies!

There are a couple of tweets defending her, but the repliesto those tweets are just other people telling them to shut up. The worst one iswhere someone has reposted the picture, but they’ve circled and labelled allher flaws. Her cellulite, her stretch marks, the rolls of fat around herstomach.

Her chest is tight and her eyes well with tears. It’sstupid, she knows it’s stupid. They’re just strangers on the internet whoseopinions shouldn’t matter. But the thing is, she’s always kind of suspectedshe’s not good enough for him. When he first asked her out, she had troublebelieving it wasn’t some kind of dumb prank. Guys that look like that don’tdate girls that look like Clarke. They date girls that look like Echo Whiting.

And it’s not that Clarke thinks Bellamy is cheating on her,or wants to cheat on her, or is secretly planning to break up with her when thetime is right. But she can see what everyone else sees. That he’s better thanher. He’s more talented, he’s more charismatic, he’s more attractive. Clarkedoesn’t deserve him, and she’s always kind of known it. Deep down, there’s thisfear that one day he’s going to wake up and realise he can do better, and thenhe’ll leave her. To have other people validate that fear, to have strangers onthe internet voice her worst and darkest thoughts about herself and herrelationship—it just makes it seem more real.

The thought of losing Bellamy makes her ache. What if hesees this picture, sees how out of her league he is, starts seeing her the wayshe really is? How long would it take him to stop touching her, because hethinks she’s too fat? Stops taking her as his date to awards shows andpremieres because he realises she makes him look bad?

“Okay, I’m done unpacking,” Bellamy says, strolling out fromthe bedroom. Clarke quickly brushes the tears from her eyes, swallowing. Shecan’t tell him about this. He’ll think she’s stupid, or he’ll think she’sright, and either way she doesn’t want to deal with it. He stops, frowning, hisface etched with concern. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” Clarke says. Evidently, she hasn’t hidden her tearsas well as she would have liked. “Just watched a dog video.”

Bellamy smiles. “Cute. You want to get pizza for dinner? I’mnot really in the mood for cooking.”

Clarke hesitates. Pizza does sound good. But perhaps sheshouldn’t be eating pizza, if she actually wants to keep her boyfriend. “Youcan get pizza if you want. I’m not that hungry.”

“I can just order you some garlic bread if you want.”

Clarke huffs. “No, Bellamy. I don’t want garlic bread.”

“But you love garlic bread. And you might be hungry later.You can heat it up—”

“I said I don’t want it,” Clarke snaps. Bellamy snaps hismouth closed, frowning. Clarke takes a deep breath. “Sorry,” she mutters. “Ithink I’m just tired from the flight. I’m going to take a shower and go tobed.”

“Okay,” Bellamy says. Clarke doesn’t look at him as sheheads to the bathroom, but she knows he’s watching her, confused as to why shesnapped at him. Clarke doesn’t even really know herself, except that he’sencouraging her to eat things that will make her fat, and that annoys her.

While she’s in the shower, she decides she’s going to starta diet in the morning. Cut out carbs completely maybe. Only eat things that aregreen.

She towels herself off and puts her pyjamas on and gets intobed. She can smell Bellamy’s pizza when it arrives. Her stomach grumbles. Whenhe comes into the bedroom to offer her some, she pretends to be asleep.

  Clarke starts her diet the next morning. While Bellamy isstill asleep, she plans out what she’s allowed to eat for the for the week andsticks the chart on the fridge with a magnet. She’s already hungry just lookingat it. But she’s sure she’ll get over that.

Breakfast today is just half a grilled tomato. Bellamywanders into the kitchen as she plates it up.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“A tomato.”

“What’s it for?”

“Breakfast.”

The look Bellamy gives her is sceptical. “That’s notbreakfast, Clarke. At least have some toast with it.”

“Can you stop telling me what to eat?”

Bellamy actually flinches. Clarke stabs her tomato with herfork, feeling guilty. “Sorry.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh huh,” she says. She doesn’t look up from her plate. “Ijust really have a craving for grilled tomato,” she says. She keeps talkingbefore Bellamy can say anything else. “Anyway, I need to get some writing donethis morning, so I’m going to be in my office for a few hours,” she saysquickly, picking up her plate and hurrying to her office.

She hardly gets any writing done. She’s hungry and she can’tthink straight and she feels guilty for snapping at Bellamy for no reason. She’swritten two sentences in two hours by the time she hears Bellamy get back fromhis run. She sighs to herself, leaving her work and finding him in the bedroom,stripping off his sweat soaked shirt.

“Hey,” she says, poking her head into the room. Bellamylooks up, throwing his shirt into the laundry basket. “Sorry about before.”

“It’s fine, Clarke,” he says. He folds his arms over hischest, his biceps bulging. Clarke quickly meets his eyes. This is a seriousconversation. “Are you going to tell me what’s really going on though?”

Clarke shrugs. “Must be getting my period.” All manner ofweird behaviour can be excused that way, right?

“That’s it?”

Clarke nods. Bellamy sags. “Fuck, Clarke,” he says. “You hadme really worried.”

“You were worried? About what?”  

“Yeah,” he says softly, walking over to her. He takes herhands in his. “I thought—I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” He kisses her softly,then a little harder. He presses her against the doorframe, crushing heragainst his sweaty chest. Clarke’s heart races as she kisses him back, her needfor him growing.

“Bellamy,” she whispers, her voice husky. He presses a kissto each of her cheeks.

“Yes?”

“I need you.”

“Come and shower with me,” Bellamy says, his lips againsthers again, his hands still holding hers. He tugs her towards the bathroom, andClarke lets him pull her with him. He doesn’t even bother shutting the bathroomdoor before he’s kissing her again. His hands slide under her shirt, and she tensesup instinctively, thinking about the circles that person drew on her picture,pointing out her chubby stomach. Bellamy stops instantly, pulling back.

“Clarke?”

“It’s okay,” she says, even though it’s not. She wants him,she really wants him. But the thought of him seeing her like the rest of theworld sees her makes her sick. She looks okay in her baggy shirt and jeans, butshe doesn’t want him to see her naked. Not until she’s lost some weight, andshe can look like a girlfriend he can actually be proud of. “I just—um,” shesteps back, away from him, eyes on the floor. “I changed my mind. I—” she feelsher throat closing up. She tries to swallow, so she won’t cry.

“Clarke, baby,” Bellamy says softly. “What’s going on? Tellme.”

She looks up at him, just as a tear rolls down her cheek.She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to think I’m ugly,” she says, and itsounds so stupid she could laugh, if her chest didn’t ache so much.

“Ugly?” Bellamy shakes his head. “Why would I ever think you’reugly?”

Clarke sobs, though she tries to hold it back. The truthspills out of her. “Everybody thinks I’m not good enough for you. And they’reright. Why are you even with me, when you could have anybody you want? Someonewho’s actually in your league?”

“Clarke—” Bellamy says, searching her eyes, confused andconcerned. “I don’t understand. Who thinks you’re not good enough for me?”

Clarke pulls her phone from her back pocket and opensTwitter. It only takes her a moment to find the tweet.

“I don’t get it,” Bellamy says. “This is a good picture.”

“Read the comments, Bellamy.”

Bellamy looks back to the phone, his eyes scanning thescreen as he scrolls. His expression gets darker and darker as he reads. Helooks up, his eyes hot with rage.

“Clarke,” he says. “This is a load of bullshit. I love you and I want to be with you. Just the thought of you thinkingyou’re not good enough for me—” he cuts himself off with a huff. “Fuck anyone whomakes you think that,” he growls.

Clarke shrugs. “But look at me,” she says. “And look at you.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, his anger turning to anguish. “Don’tsay that. You’re beautiful. What can I do to make you believe me?”

“Nothing, Bellamy,” Clarke huffs. “It’s not your fault. I believeyou believe that. But one day you’re going to wake up and realise you should bewith someone who makes you look good. Someone like Echo.”

“I’ll quit the movie,” Bellamy says. “I’ll quit actingentirely. None of it means anything if I don’t have you.”

Clarke shakes her head, tears falling again. “Don’t give upyour dream because of me.”

“Don’t leave me,” Bellamy says, his voice trembling. “I loveyou. I love you.”

Clarke’s heart misses a beat. “I’m not leaving you,” she says.“God, Bellamy. This isn’t a break up.”

Bellamy exhales, his relief evident. He takes her face inhis hands. “Clarke. You have to know, I think you’re gorgeous. I don’t want youto ever doubt that. But I don’t love you because of the way you look. I loveyou because of you. All of you. Ilove you exactly as you are, and I will love you if you change entirely, and Iwill love you if you stay the same.”

Clarke’s heart thrums in her chest. She puts her hand overhis. With his words, the fierce sincerity in his eyes, her doubts vanish. He’snever once made her feel like she’s not worthy of him, and the fact that shelet some childish internet trolls make her believe any different fills her withshame.

“Bellamy, I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should never evenhave read those comments. I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you, or thatI think you’re shallow—”

“Hey, hey,” he says. “You don’t have to be sorry. You feelhow you feel. But I want to know how you feel too, okay?”

Clarke nods. Bellamy drops his hands from her face. “Wouldyou really quit acting for me?”

“I would do anything for you.”

“You know I would never ask you to do that, right?”

“I know,” Bellamy says. “And that’s why I would.”

Clarke shakes her head, smiling. “I’m the last person whowould want you to give up acting. You know I’m your biggest fan, right?”

Bellamy smiles. “And I’m yours.”

[ill-skillsgard]

“You know you shouldn’t have come,” Faust circled around you, eyes never leaving yours. “And yet, here you are.” He grinned before coming to a halt, positioning himself right in front of you. “What would your parents say if they knew their precious little girl snuck out to come play with me?” “What they don’t know can’t hurt them.” You retorted. Faust inched himself closer to you, & the nearer he got, the more you felt yourself tremble. “Well aren’t I lucky.” (...)

“You know,” his eyes followed the movement of his right hand as it cupped your chin. “I don’t normally waste my time with chicks like you.” “How so?” You gulped. “I can’t be bothered with the thought of having to hold back when things get too intense for them. But you’re not like that - you like to be scared, don’t you? That’s why you came out tonight just so I can hurt you.” “I don’t think I-“ Faust cut you off by producing a switchblade from his back pocket (...)

He admired the blade as it caught the light, sighing to himself with contempt. He brought it closer to your face, silently taunting you before grazing the underside of it along your jawline. You shivered as soon as the cold blade made contact with your skin. “Are you scared?” He teased. “N-no!” You yelped. “Liar! Good little girls aren’t supposed to lie.”(Honestly feel free to expand I love ur work & I know ur busy but I can’t contain myself with Faust!V & I sent u that fic prompt so that’s that

+

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH OKAY HERE I GO...

It was like he could taste your fear and he was getting off on it. The blade he dragged along your jawline slipped down to your larynx then down, down, down until it was dragging between your breasts and then even further.

“What a pretty fucking dress,” Faust remarked, licking his lips like a wolf salivating from the scent of blood.

He bent down in front of you, leather, chains, and denim creaking with the motion. You were relieved to have the blade away from your throat but when he yanked up your dress the fear returned ten times worse because he brought the point of it to the crotch of your panties. His tongue tucked at the corner of his evil smile, he stared up at you and laughed as he pressed the flat part of the blade against the damp material.

You remembered him being so sweet back in school before he grew his hair out and started wearing bullet belts and playing drums. You thought him quite adorable what with his watery green eyes, full lips and slouchy, nervous posture. But now he was a completely different person and you weren’t sure whether it excited or frightened you. He had traded in his good boy demeanor for excessive alcohol consumption, his sweet smile for an evil sneer and his portable game system for knives.

But he had taken an interest in you one night when you spied him leaning up against a brick wall with his weird friends. You had been coming out of a club with your girlfriends and walked by them hurriedly, trying to avoid any unsavory confrontations. You thought you were going to get by just fine until he whistled and caught your attention.

“Nice dress, baby girl,” he nodded his head while his friends laughed. “Yeah, I’m talking to you sweetcheeks. You wanna keep partying?”

Your friend had pulled you by the wrist and muttered something derogatory about metalheads being greasy and disgusting. But you couldn’t help looking back at him as he drew on the neck of a glass beer bottle, those puppy eyes you remembered from school stuck on you.

That was then and now you were in the dingy basement of his best friend’s record store, pressed up against a wall covered in spray-painted band names and what you hoped wasn’t blood spatters.

“Tell you what, since you look so pretty in your little dress, I’ll leave it intact. These panties though... Well... They gotta go, sweetheart,” he breathed against your leg.

There was terribly screechy music blasting upstairs and you were afraid at any moment somebody was going to come down those stone steps and see him guiding the edge of his switchblade underneath your panties so he could sheer them off of you with a heart-stopping rip.

He seethed when he got a good look at you, running his thumb over the patch of hair you had left when you decided to shave off everything in anticipation of this exact moment.

“That’s so fucking cute. Look at you... You’re not a good girl at all, are you?”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. 

“No hair, huh? It’s like you were expecting something to happen. Were you? Were you expecting us to fuck?”

“I... I don’t know,” you peeped.

Faust stood up again and pinned you even harder to the wall. “You wanna fuck me, little doll?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“You sure? You wanna get fucked by a... Disgusting, greasy metalhead? I believe that’s what your friend said, right?”

“She’s stupid,” you jumped on the defense.

“So quick to judge, your types. But you’re different, aren’t you?” Faust crawled his fingers underneath the hem of your dress again and tugged at the shreds of your panties until they fell down to your knees.

“I’m not like them... Not really.”

“No... Those types... They just like getting fingered and sucking cock... Doing molly every weekend at the club. But not you. You want to get fucked, don’t you? You don’t want cock in your mouth, huh? You want it in that wet little pussy, right? That’s why you cleaned it all up real nice for me?”

You nodded slowly and he ran his fingers through your hair, pulling your head to the side so he could kiss and suck on the pulse in your neck.

“Tell you what, little doll... You tell me just what exactly what you want to have go down and I promise that I’ll make it happen. But... If you can’t give me an answer, I’ll take that as a green light to do whatever the fuck I want to you. Sound fair?”

You had your eyes shut, the music upstairs was cascading like a thousand nails on a chalkboard and Faust’s breath smelled like booze. Your heart pounded in your chest but there was no doubt that you were turned on by this. 

“Fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” You gasped.

“Oh!” He laughed. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. You are a dirty girl.”

Faust put away his switchblade but promised that next time you two hooked up, it was going to be on his terms and he couldn’t promise that you would come away from it unscathed.

[arodrwho]

critrole 2.68 lb

o dang no laura

o texting in again!

once again sam’s ad does not disappoint

o Heck Yeah it’s recap time

“you are dark” “well..yeah” “god now i’m really scared” i love. their interactions

“who do you feel like has it?” “.....they’re all so shifty” nott u dork,,

“i mean caleb has killed his only family members” liAM’S FAC E

also nott jesus christ

“caduceus wouldn’t do that he’s a nice guy” [taliesin cackles] fucking incredible

“what do you mean caleb killed his whole family” “ah, you know, it’s a figure of speech, it’s like--it’s--” “what does the figure of speech mean. like, how would you use it in a sentence?” yasha i love you

“it’s a figure of.....” “frustration?” “yeah it’s the equivalent of...of ‘aw, SNAP’” nott that is the shittiest lie i’ve ever heard. i kind of love it & i love even more that it’s kinda working

“listen caleb has some secrets in his past that maybe i shouldn’t have mentioned. i can’t think straight right now i can’t think straight i’m jonesing hard” NOTT. STOP. u almost played that off but oh my gOD u fuck’d the hell up

“so he did kill his whole family?” “i....i not grandparents or anything, there could be extended family--” a) i doubt it, & b) noTT WHAT THE HELL

“i was trying to do the thing” :(( am sorry it didn’t work but also yasha i love u. +2 autism yasha

“i’m learning how to people” +12 autism yasha!!!!!!!!!

god. every time i hope nott & caleb might start to repair the distance between them sth like this happens & it makes me So Sad

“do u ever wonder what is on the other side” “of the bridge?” “o that too” caleb i fucking love you

“little too concerned with what’s going on in this life before i start worrying about what’s...beyond” “i don’t know that i worry about it i’m curious though”

“i assume my version of whatever it is, it’s not great” oh boy

“oh... i wouldn’t think that way. if everyone was judged by those standards, i think it doesn’t look great for a lot of us. i mean. i guess what i’m saying is i’ll be joining you i guess” “oh well maybe you can call down several stories to me and say hello” “u want a berry?” “u want a drink”

“are you keeping it from nott or are you keeping it for nott?” “i don’t know really. these are good” cale b

“and it’s been nice to see her with him. i a little bit don’t know what to do with myself as much. it’s very awkward we. developed a unique relationship and i feel awkward. you know she used to. we slept on the side of the road a lot and would sleep next to each other in the cold and i feel strangely foolish about it it didn’t feel foolish before but it does now. these have a little bit of an aftertaste” ok 1, arosads fuckin CONFIRMED. my fic would’ve been so TIMELY if i’d finished & posted it this week. ah well. this weekend prolly. this weekend......... & 2, i love. caleb’s offhand comments scattered throughout this. that’s very autistic of him. i love him so much

“u feel awkward because of a close relationship with a friend?” “a little bit she has found herself or found what she is looking for. not entirely but uh. i i i don’t know what we’re talking about. we just had a. routine. i like routines somewhat” AUTISM. and also more arosads confirmed.

“feeling replaced? are you jealous?” “a bit probably a little bit” “that actually makes me feel kind of reassured. it’s like the most basic human emotion so. you’re not a total lost cause” “euh” “that was a joke. god fuck i need to work on my jokes” “no i know” “i need to work on my delivery. my delivery is just--” “you are very deadpan yeah” AUTISM

“she’s still ur friend u know that right” “yeah” “no matter what she goes off and does. you’ll always be partners. at least that memory of being partners at a certain time of your life” /sadface liam “yeah. yeah. anyway. well i guess i’m just going to think about the good days ?” “mmhmm. think about the good days”

“thousand yard stare into the void, past the bridge” :(((((((((((((

“i just kinda stay up for an extra five minutes and stare at the group for a bit” :(((((((((((((((((((((((

“i am yeah. i discovered that a smile and a laugh is a good way of infuriating your siblings when they’re trying to get to you” god i love caduceus

also taliesin u are killing me

w/the continually refusing to say precisely how many sibs

it is making me WORRIED that the reason u are not saying might perhaps be bc u don’t. know if u should count the dead ones

which. fair

and he also probably doesn’t know how many dead ones there are

which. SAD

anyway SKELLETOR. u called it a corpse immediately after & now all i can think is that conversation 

cad is having trouble thinking this through. i’mma mark this down for an autism

“caleb would know” “i was thinking about magic what did you say?” o caleb....

“without saying anything i just slowly send one of the globules to go dancing around nott’s head” caleb. i love the u

“kill your ho--hopes and dreams of. no i would never do that nott” good save yasha i love. u

notttttt

what the fuck is this. sam what the fuck

oh good rolls!

hhhh’oh boy 13 for traps. that’s frightening

i thought it was blessing of the trickster? is it just bless? okay

ohhhhhh no

“laura’s calling” lmfao

“i love you bye” lmao nice

“i think caleb is just quietly sweating bc he’s feeling caduceus’s huge weight make the bridge behind him go [sound effects]” incredible

[jester voice] “tell my storyyyy” amazin

HI I’M SCARED

I’M MORE SCARED

B E A U

caleb is handflapping!!!!!!!!!!!!! ffUCk yeah

liam is doing an stim now w/whatever he’s holding & i choose to believe caleb is stimming w/soMEthing in this moment

god i’m so weak for caleb stims

“my eyes are watering cos i’m crying from fear” fjord. i love you

aw hell another wis save

FOK.

fjord, caleb, & nott

je ee eeez caleb ok cool

thank god they both rolled low

“it’s gonna be terrible, it was a natural 20″ lmAO good job nott. i love u congratualtions fuck yeah

“looks like water almost it’s textured weird & it’s moving weird. it looks like tar or oil but it’s not textured like tar or oil it looks like skin” jESUS

MAT T WHAT THE FUCK

i love this but WHAT THE FUCK

nott what the fuck. nott. nott you are going to fucking die

nOTT THAT’S SOMEHOW WORSE

that’s so many fucking natural 20s y’all i’m very afraid for ur luck later

ah, there are the low rolls. in the initiative

fjord please...,,

beau, buddy,,,

NOTT

DDDDDDDD:

he’s gonna not do the thing???? oh. oh okay i guESS

JESTER BUDDY,,,,

i’m having so many emotions

I’M HAVING SO MANY EMOTIONS

nott is always making self-sacrificial moves for others & someone hasnow done it for her (beau & caleb have got close, but on this particular level--only jester i think has managed it & i am. feeling things. how very dare y’all)

goddang that’s a lot of nat 20s

“talieSIN ur a warlock” goddamn incredible

oof yasha, buddy,,,,

aw tal

i love u

oof. nott

oh thank god they made it

SIDENOTE but i have very specific priorities.......... & those priorities are aro & autistic content. ship content? i’m immune.

beau/jester moments? immune. fjord/jester moments? immune. nott/jester moments? immune.

completely & totally immune.

i care only abt caleb’s arosads & caleb’n’nott content & everybody being super duper autistic

& i find this. amusing

i’m sorry travis but that’s a terrible jester voice

OH the dead body they took

very neat

sidenote.

“the laughing hand. timeless & seeking the torment of all. the undying chosen” jeeeeeez creepy i like it

“mind uh, sending your, your, your parrot--” “it’s a cat” gotta love cad not knowing anything abt nature, & caleb insisting always that frumpkin is a cat even when is not catshaped

crystal barrier u say? is caleb gonna have feelings abt that or nah

WH AT DID I MISS

i stopped paying attention for fiV E SECONDS

ok i got a recap i’m good i’m good

did u just say BITE ATTACK

what the FUCK

aCID????

fJORD WHY UR WIS IS SO LOW

ur not to know this though

& thank u for wanting to help yasha

even if it was. perhaps illadvised it was kind & good

oh jeez the mirror’s gone ?

dagger???? dagger?????????? magic dagger ??

yasha KILLED HER DOUBLE,,,,,

ohohohohoho good job fjord

oh DANG caleb?? u say caleb?????

ohhhh

that’s SO MANY nat 20s

oh jeez why can’t anyone else get in

oof caddy dude

“u run over and there is no crystal wall on that side” [high pitched] “hWAT”

beau my dude,

BUG DAMAGE

nice nice nice nice nice

“i found a thing over here by the way” i love u cad

was pulling that knife right out the best idea?

mmmm

oh i guess it was

“hey look at this” god i love caduceus

i feel like half of what i say in these liveblogs is that i love characters

& u know what. i’m valid

fjord oh my god i love you

....u see.

lmao beau’s fists up, fjord ain’t think that through

no frumpkin vision????????

interesting....................

wait what. hollow??

what is hollow what’d i miss

oooooo music

music music

EYYYYYYYY

thank u laura/jester

oh jeez un angel

oh dang the dagger

ohhhh dear. angel. eyes bleeding

what. did they unlock

i’m worried.............

OH it’s over already oh dang

oh dang oh dang oh dang

hot DIGGety dang

well! that sure all did happen

this was a Lot and i am Delighted

thank u @critrole cast for this episode

[cefstickles]

‘Sometimes’ Cute

Hey everyone! First time writing for Deceit and Dr. Picani both! Now I don’t really do Sympathetic!Deceit when it comes to in the same universe, but I’ve found I ship Deceit and Dr. Picani together so hard in many human AUs. I probably won’t write Deceit/side tickle fics just because it feels wrong and I don’t ship the slimey boi with any of the sides. But with Dr. Picani I think it’s fine, I believe they balance each other out in the way that I can see. Because this is a human AU expect them both to be ooc here. Also this is a tickle fic though, so I’ll put appropriate warnings! <3 u all!

(This is an illusionist AU, where Damien (Deceit) is a magician/illusionist for his job.)

‘Sometimes’ Cute

Ships: Decani/Piceit (Dr. Picani x Deceit)

Words ~ 1,319 ~

Warning: Mentions of storms, little angst at the beginning, but fluffy the rest of the way. Tickling, but again duh.

The wide open door held the first implications that something was terribly wrong. Damien saw it as he passed through the living room towards the entrance hallway where right in front of him lay his boyfriend, Emile, on the carpet and panting heavily. The door as stated earlier was wide open, letting some of the rain and wind into the house, the spray finding it’s way onto Emile’s shivering body.

It only took a second before Damien quickly scooped the therapist up in his arms and fought against the roaring wind to slam the door shut. He could feel just how little strength the figure had in his form. Judging by it all, the therapist must have walked in the treacherous weather outside. It seems as if the so called ‘ghost’ haunting the car enough to malfunction the security system had locked him out again.

Even if that had indeed been the reason, Damien was not thinking about it, because the illusionist quickly had his boyfriend on the couch with a cup of tea and a warm blanket in less than a minute. After he had stripped him of his wet clothes and brought him some warmer pjs to change into of course. Through it all, Emile could barely breathe and was shaking quite violently, the involuntary jerks only seeming to subside after he had finished his first cup of tea.

He brought his unoccupied hand up to Damien’s, who was currently drying his drenched hair with a towel. The illusionist only stopped a second to return the favor and add an additional affirmation of his thumb across his boyfriends knuckles. It was then some words were exchanged.

“It happened again.”

“The car?” Damien could feel Emile Picani nod once, after taking the second sip of his second cup of tea. The color began to return to his cheeks.

“It does this to me all the time. I really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.” Damien, continued to dry off Emile’s hair. Once finished he placed the towel down the laundry shoot and moved to sit next to his boyfriend. He already looked so much better than he had a minute ago.

“What this all comes down to is, we need to get you a new car.” Picani quickly snapped his head in the direction of him.

“A new car?! But that means I’ll have to part with Herby! My cute little love bug. I just can’t do that! I’ve had him since I graduated highschool!” Damien raised an eyebrow.

“You are twenty-eight Emile. And that was 10 years ago that we graduated. I say it’s high time that you do get a new car. Regardless if you’ve had the car for a period of time. And besides I thought I was your cute little love bug.” Picani gave a shaky smile that gradually grew into the cute little giggle that Damien had always adored.

“You are...sometimes-”

“Sometimes? Why only sometimes?”

“Well the other times you’re either sweaty from your work, or forgot to wash off your excessive make up after a performance and it just runs down your face....also from getting sweaty at work.” Damien gave something close to a whine.

“You just came in the door...wet...from work. And I thought you were cute! You should return the favor!” Picani laughed a little louder this time.

“I didn’t say I didn’t!”

“You just told me I was cute, but only sometimes!”

“Well yeah! I’m sure I’m not cute when I come home grumpy from a horrible session with one of my clients.” Damien quickly used a finger to the chin to turn Emile’s gaze back to him.

“Au contraire, I find your little pouty face to be quite adorable.”

“No you don’t.” Damien began to nuzzle his face into the disbelieving therapist’s neck, earning a couple adorable giggles.

“Yes I do.” Emile half-heartedly pushed against the sensitive but pleasing touch, but his lover persisted.

“Noooooo you don’t.” He emitted a gasp when a hand snaked itself up against his ribs, and when Damien’s whispers entered his ear.

“That’s not for you to decide, dear.” The hand quickly began tickling up and down his rib, earning immediate laughter from the therapist. It teased in between the rib spaces, and carefully plucked up and down his side, occasionally swirling a finger in the ticklee’s exposed armpit.

“Nohohoho stoooooohohohopp!!” He didn’t stop. In fact, he just tickled more. Clawing his way down to his boyfriend’s sensitive belly. He snaked his second hand around the other side so it could join the fray at squeezing the adorable muffin top just above Emile’s belt.

“Thihihihis ihihiss Uhuhihhuhuhunfairrr!!” Emile could feel Damien smirk into his neck, pressing a couple tiny kisses to the ticklish area there.

“Unfair? Well perhaps the issue with the car was unfair to you. Quite frankly, I’m just happy to have you home in one piece.” All attempts to escape from Damien’s clutches were fruitless for Picani, because it wasn’t long until he felt Damien’s hands carefully crawl their way under his shirt. Picani’s laughter quickly raised in laughter and volume.

There the devilish hands skittered across his tummy, but quickly stopped when Damien appeared to be searching for something. “Hmmm...where are my gloves?” Picani’s eyes widened through the subsiding giggles.

“Your...gloves?” Just then Damien spotted them from across the room sitting on the tv tray. Unfortunately, Damien could not grab them without releasing his hold on Picani and after a quick eyebrow wiggle, both boyfriends quickly ran. Picani away from whatever plan Damien had in mind, and Damien towards the gloves resting with the rest of his illusionist equipment.

Once he had grabbed his gloves, he quickly chased after his boyfriend, trying to put them on in the process. It was perfect timing, because just as Damien had found a way to put his gloves on while running, he had caught up to his still tired boyfriend and quickly encompassed him in a hug from behind.

“AAAAHhhh!! Nooo!!!” Damien picked up the beanpole and carried him back to the couch, despite the therapist’s half-hearted requests not to.

“Yeeeesss!” The illusionist drug his boyfriend onto the couch gently and laid down with him on top of him. The both could feel their cheeks heating up from the position, but the moment quickly subsided when Picani felt the velvet of the gloves brush their way back under his shirt and stroke even lighter on his ticklish tummy.

Picani about howled with laughter, thrashing just a little more, as the feel of the torturous gloves squeezed at his sides and his belly. His laughter became silent when the traitorous pinky he was afraid of, quietly entered his belly button and wiggled delightfully fast. The second hand only added to his torture and squeezed at his hips until tears were practically streaming out of Emile’s eyes. Only then did Damien slow his movements.

He gently rubbed the tickles away until it was one slow stroking glove, rubbing the other’s arms, torso, and stomach in what would be described as attempts to comfort and relax.

Finally, Damien broke the silence. “I didn’t tire you out too much did I?” Picani smiled lightly through the last of his subsiding giggles.

“Maybe just a little, but I’m a content tired now.” Damien pressed another kiss to his boyfriend’s neck.

“Hmmm...how ‘content’ tired, dear?” He watched Emile smile from the position they laid on the couch together.

“Content enough to fall asleep.”

“Not content enough to fall asleep before some cuddles though...right?” Damien grimaced hopefully, but it quickly dissolved into a kiss from therapist himself as he turned to face his ‘sometimes’ cute boyfriend.

“Nope. Never.” With a small squeal of delight, the illusionist quickly wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him ever closer. And with Picani doing practically the same thing, the two cuddled the night away, until they finally fell asleep in each others arms.

Those that wanted to be on my taglist: @violetmcl @shadowkittycat97 (Let me know if you want to be on my taglist!)

[mercurytail]

Glide

^u^ Happy Halloween everybody! This is a little mini-Mchanzo fic I wrote up for the holiday! With help, excerpts, musing, and support from my friends: @the-hallowed-lady @captainneedsnosleep @drizzerey @Nobodysangel1980

You can also click the link to read it on Ao3 <3 Leave a comment and let me know what you think!

a slight gore warning since this is a Wendigo fic - its nothing intense, so no worries. Also, Its not a super happy fic, but it has a happy ending! (No he does not eat Hanzo)

Glide (down the throat)

How would it feel? To be so hungry...so in need and yet there is nothing to eat? 

Yet, there is 'food' all around you...but, nothing you CAN eat. 

Like putting a feast in front of a starving man and tying his hands.

How would that feel?

Would you break?

It started off so small. A finger here, an ear there, little things that could staunch the hunger inside him. Things easily explained that could be missing from a body. So small, so easy. He almost didn’t notice when he started devouring hands, organs, hearts, and still the hunger grew. It seemed like every time he ate, his stomach demanded more. The curse demanded more. IT demanded more.

He refused to tell Gabe about the hallucinations. The monstrous creature that stalked him on missions, the lanky, skeletal form that would crouch in the corner of his bunk, antlers scraping the ceiling. There were never any marks in the morning. He could see it even now, grinning away at him, wrapping those long, inhumanly long hands around his stomach, pressing inside and Scratching. Tearing. Demanding more, more, more…

He couldn’t tell when deer and boar and bear and whatever else he could shoot down didn’t cut it anymore. When it finally tasted too rotten, too ashy to swallow down without gagging…The day he realised he’s eaten over half the corpse he’d shot down, he almost threw it all back up again. But the monster wouldn’t let him do that. What a waste of food.

At least the cemetery helped…The monster always demanded more, but at least it didn’t care if it was dead or alive.

Sometimes, late at night when the fire in his tiny shack couldn’t quite chase the cold from his bones, when the monster was pacing through his home on silent hooves, growling and dragging its long hands over the ground. Sunken eyes staring him down from across the fire, and jagged teeth stretched wide in its grotesque face as it listened to how Jesse’s stomach growled and groaned for food, he remembered his mother’s old stories –

“The Wendigo are cursed beings, Jesse, but as long as you never consume a person’s soul – have enough restraint that they may have one piece of them left to carry that spirit over, then a wendigo will be trapped to its human. Never let it consume everything, and you can keep it bound.” 

~ the-hallowed-lady

Jesse McCree, a victim to a 'hunger curse', The 'Wendigo's Curse' . He craves human flesh/blood/bone.

When his hunger takes hold of him he transforms into a Wendigo like creature with horns, mangled teeth, sharp claws, and strange swirling eyes.

In Native American mythology, the Wendigo was a creature that came into being when a human consumed the flesh of their own kind. His grandmother had told him the story and many others. She had seen it. 

In Deadlock, they told him to shoot a young man who had been running drugs for them and was skimming off the top. Jesse refused, ‘it wasn’t right’ he said and tried to get the target out of there - He was caught, locked up, beaten and starved...

...until one day they gave him a huge roasted piece of meat. Told him if he ate it all, he'd be forgiven.

He lunged for it. The grease squelched through his fingers as he took it in his hands tearing into it. The first bite so satisfying, so juicy. Like eating chicken off the bone but amplified by the month of starvation. Its flavor so salty sweet on his tongue, he rolled each bite in his mouth wanting to savor it, the fear it was a trick prominent in his mind. Taking a bite, then another and another, the skin of it crisp and breaking just so under his teeth. The bone came into sight too soon, his stomach still growled...almost as if it hadn’t been fed at all.

...it was only afterwards he found out where it had come from.

The curse set in after that...planting its roots deep. Binding him to the creature he was cursed to become if he gave in.

The nightmares came every night, he dreams of a stag-like creature hunting him down, waiting to consume him just as he consumed human flesh, to take over him, to be free in the mortal world - to eat and eat and eat because it is here now and it is here to stay.

He’s still himself. The curse had not taken him yet. But, it was so tempting in Deadlock. He killed everyday...the bodies were so fresh and supple.

Blackwatch came and they took him. “Raw talent” they said. At least it was a home. He’d say it was his first. Gabe treated him like a son. They helped him curb his appetite, fed it and kept it under control. Genji was his only friend. The only true friend he’d ever had.

Moira grew him flesh from human stem cells.

But, after Blackwatch It got worse. On the run, food was harder to get and "burying the dead...well, that's just a waste of food." He’d told himself.

He began to get desperate. He wanted to stay somewhere familiar but, that brought too many bodies. Too many opportunities to eat and consume. “Can’t eat it all” he reminded himself, chanting it to himself as he gnawed on the assassin’s exposed liver. Trying to keep that last bit of himself human. ‘Leave a finger, that’ll be enough’.

Swallowing, he came to, the taste still thick in his mouth. He screamed throwing the piece of…whatever it was away and falling back scraping against the dirt. The moon was high in the sky and full lighting the body at his feet. Blood was thick on his hands, under his nails...claws and his head ached from the split skin on his forehead, the horns having receded. He didn’t remember...he didn’t remember coming out here or chasing after this…’food’. He curls in on himself, shivering in the cold night air...crying. 

But the Hunger became too much and he ran. He ran north.

He moves into a estranged deep forest...lives in a cabin alone. Near a small village, and a cemetery.

He sustains himself off of deer and wild game he kills. Whether with his gun or his claws when the hunger and hallucinations cloud his judgement.

The urge to consume human flesh is always there, and sometimes he gets so ravenous for it he digs up fresh corpses or steals body parts from the morgue.

Hanzo comes into his life after a short while.

He is simply running away as well...someone who murdered their own brother. It's why he likes the church yard so much. He lives there for the peace, and because when you are surrounded by the dead, it's easier not to feel judged for your actions.

They fit too well, every bit of banter, late night talk over coffee at the diner, the hunts. It was all too natural. Hanzo was getting too close and McCree craved him. He craved for his words, his touch, his time...and the beast craved him too.

And Hanzo was too curious for his own good. They strike up a small friendship and the closer they got. The harder McCree tried to push him away.

McCree tried to get Hanzo to leave.

“Hanzo, I just need you to understand it ain’t safe out here for you. They’ll find you too easy. I should know! You got to leave and keep moving.” McCree slumps against the wall, hands in his pockets; hiding. They’d had this talk before.

“I am fully aware of my surroundings and my clan will never find me here. You as a fellow criminal would know. You are hiding here, are you not? Why shouldn’t I? Especially, since we go so well together. We could fight them together...live here together.” the last bit of his sentence is but a mumble not quite making it to McCree’s ear.

McCree finds one night he’s too short on meat - much too short and winter is setting in. He goes out into the light snow for a final hunt, hoping for a bear or moose.

Hanzo finds him out there, cold and unlucky. Hanzo has been around way too much. It puts him on edge.

When a surprise snow storm hits McCree is forced to stay the night in Hanzo's home.

His hunger starts to gnaw at him, scratching, clawing at his insides; out of control. Even though Hanzo had just share his hardy venison stew...three servings of it.

The grotesque beast looms over Hanzo; caging him as he sits in front of the fire, reading. It salivates and begins to whisper in his ear. ‘Just one bite. The taste will be worth it. It will feel so good, so delicious gliding down.’

McCree licks his lips, fighting back the drool building in his mouth. He leans forward in the leather chair rubbing and worrying his hands; one over the other. Staring at the oblivious man across from him.

‘It would be so easy...just a bite. It wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t even kill him.’ the skull of the creature caress Hanzo’s shoulder. Its black abyssal eyes like fire on his soul.

McCree cringes, cradling his head and crushing his eyes closed, “SHUT UP!” His heart feels like its leaping from his chest. His breathing is ragged, drool slipping from his mouth as he cries. He tastes the salt.

It's quiet, he feels warm, happy, ‘just chew...it’ll be alright...just eat.’ Freedom is at his fingertips he thinks. Then...

Before he realizes, McCree has changed. His small horns, claws, and teeth have peeled free of his skin and his eyes are a wild black and silver. Hanzo steps back in horror.

Half manic, McCree stalks the room, trying to run or hide. But as time passes He finally pins Hanzo when the hunger clouds his mind.

And Hanzo just gives in. Accepts his fate. ‘It’s what he deserves.’

This Snaps McCree out of his haze. He pulls himself back, eyes becoming clear and he shrinks into the corner of the room just whimpering in an inhuman voice, "food"...”so hungry.”

So, Hanzo goes outside. He takes the remains of an Elk carcass from the snow and brings it in for him. Laying it at his feet. It's a sickening sight, as the horned man leans in drooling and finally shredding into the decaying remains, moaning...

McCree changes back soon, wiping his mouth of the gore and Hanzo faints, the shock too much for his body.

When he wakes, McCree explains everything and after a shared silence Hanzo nods and agrees to help him. To McCree’s great disbelief. However, He accepts the offer...just tired of being alone.

Hanzo knows a thing or two about curses after all, from his family and his past.

They travel in search of a shaman to remove the curse. McCree had never thought of it. Of asking for help of breaking the hold on him.

It takes almost a year but they find the shaman. Hidden away deep in the tropics of mexico. However, they find that it would kill McCree to revoke the curse or change him entirely.

So, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down his cheeks McCree accepts his life. They decide to just live with it and Hanzo says as he holds his lovers face in his hands, he will stay by his side.

The flaming wood cracks as it settles in the fireplace. The orange glow lighting the room. Snow drifts down softly outside the window. Each gust of wind causes the cabin to creak, the room quiet and yet not silent; the sounds of home.

The two men lay together on the sofa, swaddled close in warm wool blankets. Hanzo nuzzles into his neck humming a song neither know the words to.

“Are you hungry my love?” Hanzo asks.

Jesse swallows taking in the flames as they dance. He kisses the top of Hanzo’s head, “No, You keep me full Darlin’.”

[hopewritcs]

dancing in the kitchen. six.

pairing: romantic steve x reader, familial dustin x reader, friendship nancy x reader

word count: 1.2 k

summary: without giving too much away: the reader is Y/N Henderson, Dustin’s older cousin who’s staying in town, due to some family issues. takes place soon after s2.

note: sorry this is so short--and that it took 300 years to get to. i’ve been so busy, but now that i’ve graduated college (woo!!) and most of my exams are done, i’m in a regular routine again so i should be able to actually update this (and other fics) regularly. pls like/comment. i love u all. (also i’m reposting this bc it didn’t show up in the tags??? thanks tumblr u suck lol

other chapters: masterlist

tag list: @stevieboyharrington, @lola-winston-harrington, @fuckthatfeeling​,@thekidsofneibolt, @labgeek, @tyedyedstars, @samisimportant, @madhatterweasley, @pity-mee, @l4life, @veryweirdintrovert, @restlessmelodrama, @darkuserboxes,@princessnancy, @hipsmcgee, @wtf-richarddd (if you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know!!)

Y/N’s face was hot she honestly felt like she was going to explode. She couldn’t even turn to look at Steve’s face. Everything about this felt too awkward. Silent and awkward.  What was Y/N supposed to do? Distract everyone with food and hope they forgot the assumption of her and Steve dating.

“Y/N and Steve are what?” Dustin asked, his voice loud as his head whipped around between the pair and then looked back at Jane who had been the one to announce it to the room. “They’re not dating, El. My cousin is not dating Steve. There’s no way.”

Y/N was gripping tightly to the cloth in her hands. She had no words for this entire situation. She was embarrassed.  Would her secret harbored crush be outed right then and there? She surely hoped it wouldn’t--that might make this night too awkward for her to handle.  And, to be fair, it was already pretty awkward.

“Are you saying your cousin wouldn’t date me?” Steve asked, throwing himself into the conversation with a bit of a smirk.  Though he was much more confused as anyone else in the room.  He was attempting not to show the confusion in his appearance and presentation. “I mean, I’m a catch, Henderson.” Steve gestured to himself in a semi-cocky way with a waggle of his eyebrows.  

Everyone in the room either rolled their eyes or laughed at what Steve had said, but it was Dustin who actually addressed the comment. “Okay Farrah Fawcett.”

That got Y/N’s attention as she turned to look over at Steve at the comment, “Farrah Fawcett?” she snorted out a giggle and then covered her mouth with the dish cloth.

“I’m going to kill you, Dustin.” Steve said as he raced forward and lunged for the younger boy--wrapping an arm around him and rubbing his fist into the curly hair.

“No, wait, we have to hear this story.” Nancy explained with a small chuckle as she looked at Steve and Dustin.

Dustin wrangled himself out of Steve’s arms and went to the table to join his friends. He shot Steve a death glare before turning to the friends and discussing strategy for tonight. For a moment, the room was silent from the change of pace. But everyone fell into the routine forgetting the dropped conversation.

As the night wore on, Y/N watched Dustin and his friends participate in the game. The laughter and competition was contagious, and honestly she loved being around all of them.  The friendship.  The family.  It was something she had missed.

After a couple of hours of playing, the group was getting hungry again. Y/N had taken out an angel food cake she’d bought earlier.  However, she forgot to check the freezer before getting the dessert ready.  So, she sighed, and turned to the kids. “Alright, I need to run out and get some ice cream. The diner’s still open, so I’ll be back soon.” she explained, tapping Dustin’s head with a smile. “I’m taking your bike munchkin.” she commented, turning around to grab her jacket.

“It’s pretty dark out, why don’t I drive you?” Steve asked, already standing up from the couch.

Y/N shook her head, “Thanks. But I’ll be okay.”

Meanwhile Nancy had tapped Jonathan’s arm and grabbed the keys from him and stood up herself. “Y/N, how about I drive? You did all this stuff, it’s only fair.”

After a moment, Y/N nodded, “Okay.” she buttoned up her jacket and turned back to wave to the group before heading out the door with Nancy.  “Thanks for offering.” Y/N said with a smile as she got into the Byers’s car. She turned to look at Nancy as they pulled out of the drive.

“Well, honestly, Steve was right. You shouldn’t be biking out this late. Especially on Dustin’s bike. But I figured the last person you wanted to leave with was him. After what El said.” Nancy explained quietly, glancing back at Y/N with an almost worried look in her eyes.

“Why did she say that? I mean...we’re not dating. He doesn’t....I don’t...” Y/N sighed, running her hands through her hair as she leaned back against the passenger seat.

Nancy bit her lip to hold back a small chuckle at her friend’s obvious frustration. She knew that Y/N had a crush on Steve, and worried about how it would work out.  Despite not knowing how Y/N had wound up back here in Hawkins, Nancy could tell something had happened.  And she worried about her friend.  But she wanted Y/N to be happy.  So she wanted to help Y/N understand that she could be with Steve.  Or, at the last, tell him how she was feeling.

“You do.” Nancy chided, nudging her friend as she drove. “You totally have the hots for Steve.  It’s understandable.” Nancy giggled.

“I do not!” Y/N immediately shot back, halfway through Nancy saying she had the hots for Steve. Her face was flushed again. After a moment, Y/N shrugged her shoulders and sighed, “So what if I do?  It’s not like he likes me too.  Plus, I’m in no position to date.”

“Listen, Y/N, I know you don’t want to talk about whatever happened to make you move here with your Aunt, but it doesn’t, like, define you.” Nancy explained.  If only Y/N knew what they had been dealing with the past year and a half.  If only she knew.  “We all have a past, right?”  Some of us more deadly than others.

“I just can’t...I can’t tell anyone.  Everyone would judge me and think so different of me.  I wouldn’t be Dustin’s cool older cousin.  I’d be that gossipy bitchy girl.  And that’s...not me.  Not anymore.” Y/N explained, wringing her hands in her lap as she glanced around nervously.  She was still coming to terms with everything.  She didn’t want to explain it to everyone.  

“Well, you can tell me anything and I won’t judge you.  You’re practically my sister, anyway.” Nancy put her hand on top of Y/N’s with a smile as she pulled into the diner parking lot.  

“You really are the best friend.” Y/N expressed, pulling Nancy into a hug before the pair got out of the car.  

Y/N and Nancy got a variety of flavors for the ice cream, including a couple different toppings.  They came back into the house to see the group fighting over what film to watch.  The girls came in unnoticed, until the group heard clamoring in the kitchen.  

“Ice cream!” the kids shouted and bounded into the kitchen.  

“Whoa, back up munchkins.  Can we at least set up the sundae station or do you all want to be animals?”  Y/N snorted, laughing.  “Jane, can you grab some bowls for everyone? And Dustin, why don’t you grab some spoons and stuff for the bowls, and then some serving ones too?” Y/N asked, not turning around as she worked on getting the ice cream and toppings out of the bags with Nancy.  And within a couple of minutes they had everything set up on the kitchen table and everyone was preparing their own ice cream.  

Y/N grabbed two scoops of her favorite flavor and put in a slice of angel food cake and sprinkles.  She watched as everyone gathered things for their own ice cream and then the whole group filed into the living room.  The kids continued to fight over a movie to watch for the night, and the teens threw in some ideas here and there.  In the end they picked a classic Hitchcock film and got settled in for the night.