#um days already has a 'bad' ending but like this one is...way worse

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 17 — APHRODISIACS. dan heng (hsr) x f!reader! ﾉ link to return to kinktober 2024 masterlist & taglist

it’s only natural that you’d try to play it off, especially when he had already warned you about this ahead of time. your bad, you’ll admit. unfortunately for you though, this aphrodisiac is one of the strongest, and it won’t be going away anytime soon.

CONTAINS — aphrodisiacs, hints of mutual pining, marking, wall sex, squirting (reader cums from him putting it in)

To your surprise and nobody else’s, Dan Heng was right after all.

A small part of you knew he was when he had initially warned you- advised that you stay on the Express because you’d make for an easy target, but you also couldn’t deny that you’d much rather join him than stay cooped up in your room all week.

Any time with Dan Heng is better than no time with Dan Heng, or so you thought. Maybe if you’d pictured this outcome in your head a bit earlier, you wouldn’t have tagged along.

But you’d also rather die than admit you were wrong.

The Express’ hallway looks hazy when you try to make your way back to your room after wishing him a good night. Similar to how the world appears when you’ve come down with a high fever. You think you can feel the blood buzzing in your ears, and it wasn’t even a direct hit. You’re certain of this fact- you’ve always been quick on your feet.

But this one has already started to make you feel lightheaded.

The thought of him taking notice of how your nails dug into his door frame earlier to prevent yourself from collapsing onto the floor haunts you a little. He’s so observant that you’re surprised he hasn’t said anything yet- besides a couple glances and maybe one or two concerned “Are you alright?”

Perhaps he really didn’t know, and you were just that capable of hiding the fact that you’ve been hit with one of the strongest aphrodisiacs in existence.

Though that seems unlikely.

It seems to only worsen with each passing minute. Switches from the initial dull ache between your legs to a sharp throbbing, and you feel so hot. Feverish. Maybe even delirious at this point. It takes all the strength in your body just to roll over in bed and flip open your computer to search if aphrodisiacs can actually kill.

You sure hope not. What’ll happen if you’re dead by morning? Having never kissed Dan Heng a single time?

You don’t even want to imagine a life with that kind of depressing end.

It’s possible that you ended up lasting for another thirty minutes at least. Maybe five in reality. Though it’s hard to keep track of time when you’re rubbing your cunt back and forth against your pillow like it’s the last thing you’ll do. Imagining that it’s him you’re straddling only seems to make it even worse.

You want him so bad.

That’s why after some time, you find yourself in front of his room again- head hanging low, chest rising up and down in heavy pants, and your legs barely able to hold up your weight. You don’t even bother facing him. Not when you can already tell what face he’s making when he says the words,

“I told you that you shouldn’t have come along.”

If you wanted to give him a sheepish laugh, it only comes out as a pained whine instead. “S-sorry,” your eyes widen at how strained your voice sounds, and you think you see him stiffen in front of you. “Do you think….. um, do you know to fix it?”

It falls eerily silent.

“..Please…? I can’t… can’t really.. ask Welt for help.”

“Don’t ask Welt.” His voice softens ever so slightly, but you think there’s something unfamiliar behind it. You suck in a sharp breath as soon as he takes a step forward to reach around you and close the door behind you— slowly, as if giving you time to change your mind. “I know how to help.”

Your first thought is that he smells nice. Really, really nice. You’ve always thought that he’d smell good, but with the way you are now, it’s intoxicating. Your knees almost buckle, and you hope he doesn’t hear you swallow a gulp.

You could just lift your arm and touch him. You could pull him in for a hug and take a deep inhale straight into his chest. You could bury your face deep in-

“If I were to help you fix this, then I would need to touch you.” Your eyes widen, walls instinctively fluttering around nothing at the suggestion. His words carry more weight to them, and you at least know Dan Heng well enough to recognize this as his way of asking if you’re okay.

And you’re much, much more than okay with receiving his help.

“Please…. yes please.”

Time seems to slow down as he closes the distance between the two of you— backs you up until you’re pressed against the wall and your face heats up. Your entire body follows as soon as you look at him, head fuzzy and clouded and you’re barely able to process just how close he is.

This is something you’ve always wanted. Maybe even dreamed about.

“I…” your eyes slam shut when you feel him hike up your skirt— slowly, and his fingers briefly ghost over your waist before he finally slots his thigh between your legs and nudges. “F-fuck..!” Your head falls back, back of your hand instinctively coming to hide your face— and he freezes.

That sensitive? You didn’t know it was possible for it to worsen. If you weren’t in such a daze, maybe you’d feel more embarrassed about it. “Close your eyes,” his voice is so close that it sends a shiver down your spine, “and let me touch you more.”

You listen. It’s a confirmation to him that you desperately need his help— because you never listen. “You’re lucky that you weren’t hit directly,” you feel him tilt your chin up, and a part of you wishes you could hold it— nuzzle your cheek against his palm— but then something suddenly clicks in your head.

“..You… you saw—”

His lips slot against yours the next second. Just one peck, and then another. It shuts you up immediately- sends a weird warmth coursing through your body and bubbles up in your core. Feels good. Feels good and he hasn’t even started. He pulls away, only to mumble a “yeah. I saw everything. I always keep an eye on you because you never listen..though I couldn’t make it to you in time” before his lips are back on yours.

To his surprise, you keep your eyes shut like he told you to. Maybe it’s all too much for you to take in, so closing your eyes and focusing solely on how he feels is the only way you know you’re not dreaming. Your body goes into overdrive, knees buckling as soon as he deepens the kiss and you almost moan when you feel him wrap an arm around you to keep you upright.

You’re practically melting. Melting into the kiss- letting him pull you even closer and letting him press his thigh into your cunt. Everything after that becomes a blur in your head. Where you end and he starts is something you don’t bother thinking about. It’s a mess of kisses— deep and full of tongue— and he trails them down your neck, ends just below your ear after he’s kissed every inch of your skin.

You’re certain he’s left marks, but his lips feel too good for you to care. The exact moment when he picked you up to press your back against the wall never registered in your head either. You only open your eyes when you finally feel him prod at your hole, and your heartbeat is practically thumping against your ribcage. “I’m going in. Hold tight.”

He starts to pushes inside, and your vision goes white. “Wait— w-wai—” You choke, embrace around his neck slipping, loosens just a bit too much and you sink down onto his length— mouth falling open in a silent scream as soon as he bottoms out in one rough motion.

It hits you all at once. A violent orgasm that rips from deep inside you- one you’re not quite familiar with- has you screaming into his shoulder, nails digging into the muscles of his back as you gush all over him. He practically growls at the feeling, fingers digging into your thighs even when they tremble and jerk against him.

The room falls silent aside from your panting and his breathing. Your walls spasm around his thickness- strongly feeling the aftershocks, and he feels your slick dripping down his cock and onto the floor beneath you.

“‘S n-no fair at all,” you whimper, “feels too good. I’m almost scared—”

“Don’t say things like that.” If it was even possible, he holds you even closer. Even with the softness in his voice, you can tell he’s struggling to hold back. “You don’t need to think about anything,” he reminds you, “just hold tight and let yourself feel everything.”

“Trust me to take care of it.”

dividers by @ cafekitsune

[abbyshands]

Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)

teach me

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3

synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3

wc; 2.2k

p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.

your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.

that's where abby came in.

abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.

let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.

you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.

not only that, the focus.

how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?

you weren't.

but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.

it was a demand.

you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.

abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.

"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"

no.

"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.

but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.

"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.

“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.

“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.

“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.

abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.

“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.

“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.

“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.

“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.

“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.

“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”

“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.

but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.

“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?

wrong.

because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?

smack.

abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.

because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.

“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.

“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?

“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”

doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”

abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.

to some degree.

but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”

abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.

“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.

“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.

"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.

but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.

"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.

"too bad."

abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.

"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.

and she doesn't like your words.

abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.

once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"

you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."

"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.

this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.

"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.

"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.

"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.

and fill with butterflies.

“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.

“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.

"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?

it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.

even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”

“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.

"there’s my smart girl.”

and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.

your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.

"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.

and you hadn’t even finished yet.

"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.

"look on the good side.”

“you'll remember better now, won't you?"

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

[moralesluvr]

what girlfriend!billie does when she misses you / fluff & all things sweet, i thought about this earlier so :) stay tuned to the end for something i made 🫣

01. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she can’t stop blowing up your phone. if your busy or at work, or even just taking a nap— she’s gonna send you every funny tiktok she sees, every random picture she takes, all of it. you’re one of the most important things in her life and she always wants to show you what’s going on.

my love — here’s finneas eating celery

my love — really just thought you should know

like literally, she’ll send you anything that’s going on. but quality time and being together is such a big thing for her, there’s no way she’d go even an hour with speaking to you or giving you updates unless she physically couldn’t.

02. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… that’s literally all she can talk about. she really is the “i miss my girlfriend” type, and she has zero to no shame. it’s half because she loves to say the word “girlfriend” out loud, because she thinks it’s cute.

“my girlfriend?”

“nah i can’t, i’m going to see my girlfriend.”

“my girlfriend would fuck with this.”

“i miss my girlfriend.”

if she’s on a long road trip or flight, everyone’s eyes start to twitch a little bit anytime the first syllable of “girlfriend” even comes out her mouth. but they know that she loves you so much, and that you make her happy— and that’s all they could really ask for. no, no complaints.

“i deadass miss my girlfriend so much y’all, like— please, i need to see her. can we just cancel tour, lowkey? maybe for like a day? so i can see my—“

“billie,” zoe giggles, “you will see your girlfriend, i promise. just let it rest for a second.”

03. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she’ll catch herself rereading old texts, or looking at old videos and pictures because the memories mean so much to her. she likes to search up key words in your chats to find sweet conversations you had when y’all were just talking, or even when you first started dating.

if you sent her any voice memos, she’s definitely listening to them. your voice is one of her favorite sounds and there isn’t anything else she’d rather listen to. she’d pop her airpods in and play some of you singing or just talking, and she’d loop them until the words didn’t even make sense anymore.

04. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she can get a little grumpy or upset. it isn’t on purpose, but she’ll feel really bad about it later on.

a lot of the time, it’s when she’s already running late and stressed— just a long of things on her plate. and as if it couldn’t get any worse, you were busy too and so your ability to calm her down and comfort her was put to no use. she’d be with her team getting ready for interviews or something, and she’d just be mad.

“billie, did you eat before this? it’s a four hour drive, and—“

“i’m not hungry.”

like literally, the sassiness can get crazy. finneas will usually have to bring her back a little bit, but he usually just lets her grumpiness run its course for a little until she finally calms down.

“you done now?” finneas would tease, giving her a playful hit to her shoulder as the bus pulled into the parking lot of where they were being interviewed. billie gave him fiery eyes, but she wasn’t upset anymore. she just really missed you.

“i miss her.” billie frowned, getting all her things together with a pout, “i always do.”

05. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she’s gonna tell you. she’ll often leave you many texts or phone calls, repeatedly telling you how much she longs for your presence and how she wished she could be with you.

it was especially killing her now because of tour, and the time zones were not in her favor at all. so, she’d send you voicemails when you wouldn’t answer her call, like this one. (click the video and slide to the beginning to listen to the voicemail!)

transcript if you can’t listen: hi baby, it is very, very late, um— but i wanted to, uh, send you a voice message, and just tell you that i miss you so fucking much. i wish you were with me. honestly, i think we should just come back and get you so you can do tour with me. uhm…ugh, okay— it’s…it’s late, and i’m tired as hell, and i bet you’re already asleep. um…i miss you always, and i love you. sleep well mama, i miss your beautiful face. bye.

send an ask to be added to my taglist!

taglist: @vharperr | @47lake | @hopingforgoodblogs

[chamomilewrittingblock]

Solo Leveling Brainrots

Fellow Jinwoo Simps I need your thoughts and opinion!! Also MASSIVE brainrot warning!!!

QUESTION: How do you think Jinwoo would react to his partner questioning his taste in lovers? (ie. Being interested in Reader themselves)

How id imagine the confession would go: Jinwoo, pre-awakening: I like you *holds bouquet of flowers Reader, confused: um! *looks around to see if he's talking to someone behind them before pointing at themselves confused*... me? Jinwoo: Yes, You. Reader, Shocked: oh! Um... I like you too... but *hesitates* are you sure? About me??

The feeling is mutual!!! It's just his lover doesn't have alot of confidence in themselves. Or any confidence into getting a romance with anyone, let alone Jinwoo!! Reader feels like they have ZERO RIZZ (reader has enough rizz to woo Jinwoo so...).

Like would he hype them up???? Mayhaps but in subtle ways though I'd imagine🤔🤔. You think he'd be extra affectionate when reader gets shy??? Would this differ pre and post awakening?? (I imagine Jinwoo and reader wouldn't want the relationship public due to safety since hes a hunter and all)

AND WHAT ABOUT HIS POST AWAKENING GLOWUP AND THE FANS!!! READERS ALREADY SHY BUT THE TABLOID EVENTUALLY CHIPS AT THE SLOWLY BUILT CONFIDENCE JINWOO HELPED BUILD.

OHMYGOSH WHAT ABOUT THE TABLOIDS WITH CHA HAE-IN???? WOULD HE GET WORRIED SINCE READER MIGHT GET INSECURE OR JUST KINDA SAD???

WHAT IF READER TELLS HIM THAT HE DESERVES BETTER, BELIVJNG THAT READWR DOESNT DESERVE HIS LOVE?? AAAA OUCHHHH.. I GUESS HE HAS TO STAY WITH READER AND REMIND THEM OF HIS UNWAVERING LOVE WITH CUDDLES AND QUALITY TIME DJBDBFIDN

(reader is Jinwoo's ride-or-die, the monarch of his heart and soul, the love reader gives him is like comfort of warm soup at the end of the day, the kind that soothes even the deepest of wounds. Reader's love is also a drug, one that he cant get enough of. If he loses reader, Jinwoo would go insane.)

AUDBUDBDIBD HOLY!!!! WOULD HE GET PISSED ABOUT IT AND ENDS UP GETTING CLINGY IF CRAZY SHIPPERS TRYING TO PUT READER IN DANGER IE. SENDING A MONSTER READER'S WAY BECAUSE OF THEM BEING A "THREAT" TO THEIR SHIP (HIM AND CHA HAE-IN)??? I MEAN LIKE GUIDE THE MONSTER SPECIFICALLY AWAY FROM THE DUNGEON TO READERS LOCATION TOO. (TO THE EXTENT THAT ITS CLEARLY FOUL PLAY)

LIKE THANK THE MONARCHS THAT READER HAD SHADOWS ASSIGNED AND MAYBE WAS DECENTLY RANKED AFTER AWAKENING BUT IT COULD HAVE ENDED AWFUL IF THE FATES WERENT ON READERS SIDE!!

WOULD HIS ARMY GET PROTECTIVE TOO?? IGRIS??? BERU??? LIKE HOW DARE THESE FOOLS HARM THEIR MONARCHS BELOVED?!?!?!? 😡😡EVEN WORSE IS IF READER WORMED THEIR WAY INTI THEIR HEARTS BY GENUINELY GETTING TO KNOW THEM SO ITS PERSONAL NOW TOO!!

Reader has to calm down not only a PISSED jinwoo but his Shadows too (mainly Jinwoo though)!! And maybe being the only reason Jinwoo hadn't gone on a rampage after everything setted. Was he bribed with a heated makout session and plenty of cuddles afterwards to temper his rage and soothe his anxiety, yes. Did it work??? Probably. If it did??That's none of our buisness.

Id imagie Cha Hae-in would feel bad™ if they found out about Jinwoo and reader (just assuming the two being best friends)?? Being like "oh shit someone, a civilian no less, almost died because of her fans" Even worse if later on she learns that they're together aaaaa

But like seriously, what a messed up reminder of the power S-Rank Hunter have on the media. Yes, they know about their celebrity status affecting what they can or can't do but like this??? A whole different level, because yes, people targeting other?? Awful? Yes, but its fine. Using a MONSTER FROM A DUNGEON to target a CIVILIAN?? This is a whole new level of messed up.

Would the other S-ranks and National-ranked hunters feel like kinda bad too once they hear about it??

what the fuck??? For the following reasons:

No one deserves that

Its a civilian going against fans that are most likely hunters, the very individuals hunters are ment to protect from monsters ever since the dungeons appeared

THE HUNTERS USED A HIGH RANKED MONSTER TO TARGET A CIVILIAN (the mutual enemy internationally)

this was all done because PEOPLE BEING ENTITLMENT OF THE RELATIONSHIPS OF THE S-RANK HUNTERS.

This is furthur solidified and makes the WHOLE DEBACHLE worse because only EXPERIENCED hunters would have the knowledge and experince to be able to lure a monster from a dungeon break to a specific location, especially if reader wasn't even near the dungeon in the first place.

(For anyone who's read this all the way, thanks for reading my silly thoughts!)

[ay4tou]

a recipe for disaster | gun park x reader

summary: in compensation for gun spoiling you left and right, you decide to bake for him but instead of making a cake, you make a mess.

author's note: yall this has been in my notes for so long i can finally post it 💔 | masterlist

As much as you loved Gun's thoughtful gestures, it was starting to make you feel a little guilty.

“Why do you always do this?” you’d asked the night before as he handed you a new set of earrings, delicate and shining.

“Because I want to,” he'd reply simply, brushing off your protests with that effortlessly charming grin. “You deserve it.”

Gun had always had a habit of going overboard when it came to spoiling you. It started with small, thoughtful gifts, like your favorite coffee or a pretty bracelet you said you wanted.

But recently, his gestures had become almost overwhelming. Last week, he surprised you with a designer handbag that you’d only admired through a store window. Then came the limited-edition perfume you’d mentioned briefly, followed by a necklace with your initials engraved in gold.

How could you ever match the effort he put into making you feel special?

It wasn’t that you didn’t love the gifts. It was just that you wanted to give something back. Something special. Something that showed how much you appreciated him.

And that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen the next morning, armed with a cookbook, a bag of flour, and sheer determination.

“I guess I’ll bake him a cake,” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the pages. “How hard can it be?”

The answer, you discovered, was very hard.

First, you spilled flour on the counter. Then you realized you forgot to preheat the oven. The eggshells ended up in the batter, and somehow, the color of the icing turned out to be way worse that you thought.

But still, you were determined to finish. After all, it was the thought that counted... right?

By the time the cake was in the oven, you were exhausted, but you smiled, imagining his reaction to seeing the cake.

That smile quickly faltered when the timer went off and you pulled the cake out of the oven.

It was lopsided. It was slightly burnt. And it looks a bit ugly. Just a tiny bit though.

While you were staring at it, defeated, contemplating if you should do another one, discard it, or just stick with it until you heard beeping from the entrance of your apartment and the front door was open.

You scrambled to hide the cake, but it was too late. Gun appeared in the doorway, taking in the sight of you covered in flour, the chaotic state of the kitchen, and that... thing on the counter.

"The fuck?" He squinted his eyes, making sure he wasn't dreaming. "Did a robbery take place here?"

His brows lifted in surprise, but seeing your reaction, he thought you were a bit offended so he tried to lighten up the mood.

“Were you… were you trying to cook?" He gestured to the cake.

"Wow, it's, um, really... something.”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was trying to do something nice for you, okay? But it didn’t exactly go as planned.”

Gun walked over, his blank face remaining but inside he was really trying not to laugh.

He brushes a bit of flour off your cheek. “Why would you do something like this? Why risk yourself trying to bake when we all know you can't bake for the life of it?”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed at his remarks on your attempt to be a loving partner and seeming to completely ignore your efforts. “Yeah, well, I wanted to try. But I’m never baking again. Ever.”

“I feel bad." He chuckles. "Why don’t we clean this up together, and then I’ll take you out for dessert? My treat.”

You smiled up at him, your earlier frustration melting away. “Sure. But only if you promise not to laugh about this again.”

“No promises,” he said with a teasing grin, already grabbing a dishcloth.

As the two of you worked side by side to clean up the mess, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, gifts or no gifts. Because at the end of the day, it was the moments like these that mattered most.

And maybe next time, you should probably just buy a cake.

[sunnie-angel]

Part 1: The Meeting

part 2 | series master list | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: a friendship with jason todd hovers on the edge of something more but there are reasons lurking just out of sight that complicate things.

tags: fluff

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.6k

a/n: this first chapter is fairly light, but this series is intended to get much darker in tone and content. i’ve got most of the series planned out so i’m going to try and be more consistent with updates (but no promises).

The first time you see Jason Todd, he’s chewing on the end of a pen and staring off into space. He’s in your Theories of Poststructuralist Literature class, sitting two rows up and one seat to the left of you. What catches your eye is how lonely he looks. The seats around him are empty and there’s an air of loneliness to him that goes beyond first day jitters. The professor’s at the front, still unpacking her bag, so you’ve got still got a few minutes to stare as much as you’d like. Your friend, looking up from where she’s fiddling with her computer notices your interest, knocks her elbow into you.

“So who’s that,” she says in an undertone, “your new classroom crush?”

“Oh I am not that bad,” you retort, mock offence dripping from your words. “No, I just think he looks lonely.”

“Yeah, and cute.” This time you elbow her, hoping he didn’t hear Danika over the sounds of shuffling chairs and feet. Mercifully, the professor clears her throat to begin class, cutting off whatever else your friend was going to tease you with.

“All right, welcome to Theories of Poststructuralist Literature. I’m Dr. Okafor, and I’ll be…”

Throughout the rest of class, you can’t stop stealing glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye. Danika has to prod you twice to get you to take a copy of the syllabus and pass it along the stack of papers. You manage to pay attention just long enough during the self-introductions to find out that his name is Jason, and that he’s doing a degree specialization in British Literature. Class ends a half-hour early and your head’s already swimming, a list of readings and concepts already tripping up your thoughts. It means that you’re distracted, not paying attention to what your friend’s doing as you scramble to get your things situated back into your bag.

“Hey! Hey new guy!” Your head snaps up at the sound of Danika’s voice, loud and moving away from you. To your horror, she’s walking right up to Jason, and worse, he’s starting to look around for who she’s talking to. With no one else around him, it becomes evident that there’s no one else she could be addressing.

“Yes, you. Hi! I’m Danika. Me and my friend,” she gestures lazily back at you and you can already feel the mortification burning up your cheeks, “were planning to meet up with some other friends in the program for lunch after class. Want to join us?”

“Oh, um, sure? I need to talk to Dr. Okafor first, but I can meet you both right after.” He says, a little bit flustered by the invitation. He runs his fingers through his curls as he speaks, you notice.

“Great! We’ll just wait outside for you.” Satisfied, your wayward friend turns around and grins, giving you a thumbs up from where only you can see it.

“Seriously?! What was that?” You hiss at her when she finally reaches you.

“What, you said he looked lonely. Now, he’ll be less lonely. C’mon, have you texted the group chat yet that we’ve got a plus one for lunch?” Shouldering your bags, you pick your way out of the classroom, hopping over errant bag straps littering the aisle and maneuvering around people going through the motions of first day back greetings. Keeping Danika’s blonde head in sight, you pull out your phone and shoot off a message, slipping it back into your pocket before there’s time for any responses. She’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand twisting the ends of her hair in the way she only does when she’s uncertain.

“Really though, is it okay that he’s coming to lunch with us? Because I can go right back in there and tell him you suddenly came down with a stomach bug and I have to get you home.” Her concern cools the panic and annoyance knotting your stomach.

“No it’s fine.” She gives you a look, the one that says she doesn’t believe you. “Really. I’m kind of annoyed you didn’t ask me first but it’s whatever. Best case scenario, we get a new friend out of this. Worst case, he goes back to just being classroom crush.”

“I knew it!” She crows. “Wait, wait this is big. You never talk to your classroom crushes. Do you need to practice your pick up lines on me?” Faux seriousness drips off of her. Jason appears as if summoned, popping up behind Danika’s shoulder with uncanny quietness.

“Hey Jason, were you able to talk to the prof?” You ask, forcibly trying to keep your voice casual. Danika freezes, mouths sorry at you, before whirling around to face him.

“Yeah, thanks for waiting. And thanks for inviting me to lunch.”

“Anytime!” Smoothly your friend steps in to direct conversation. “We were just planning to head to the food court in the student union.” She starts walking, confident that the two of you will follow her and you do. “So Jason, how come we’ve never met before this class? Between our friend group, I think we’ve met or at least know of all,” she waits for your nod in confirmation, “of the literature and writing students in our graduating class.”

He exhales before answering, taking the moment to gather his story together. “I’m a transfer student. I started my degree a couple of years ago but had to stop for family reasons. I finally got the chance to get my records together so I could transfer to Gotham U and finish the last few credits to get my diploma.”

“But you’re from Gotham originally?” You can’t quite keep the weight of Jason’s full attention on you yet, breaking eye contact but still feeling his eyes on you. “Your accent sounds a lot like the neighbourhood I grew up in.”

“Gotham born and bred. The city called me home.”

At the entrance to the food court, Danika catches sight of your friends first, waves excitedly over at them, before heading off at a rush to the booth they’ve secured. She leaves you and Jason to trail behind in her wake.

“So you’re from Crime Alley then?” Jason takes the chance to ask you.

“Hmmm? Oh yeah, my family lived there until I was maybe 12 or 13. I moved back when I started at Gotham U because it was the only area I could afford without roommates.”

“I’m back in that neighbourhood too. D’you know that place—”

The two of you reach the table with your friends and then there’s no time for him to finish whatever he was planning to say.

“Everyone, this is Jason. Jason, this is Will, Rei, and Catalina.” As Danika introduces them, each person gives a nod or little wave. Will, as always, seems bored by everything going on around him that isn’t related to the book in his hand. Rei’s got one arm around Catalina where she’s curled into his side. He lifts his hand quickly in a sort of half wave, a genuine grin causing his cheeks to push his glasses up his face.

“Please, call me Lina,” Catalina says warmly. “Sit down, sit down, tell us all about yourself and why we haven’t seen your pretty face around here before.” If you didn’t know her any better, you’d say that Lina was flirting with him. Since you do know her, have since your Intro to Creative Writing in first year, you know that this is just what Lina’s like. Always a compliment for everyone ready on her tongue, unafraid to say a good thing no matter how it might appear. Jason, having only been introduced to her seconds before, did not know better. A tinge of red dusts the top of his cheekbones and he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck.

Trying to ease the moment, you say, “Here, do you want to sit down first before the interrogation begins?” You gesture to one of the two open seats right next to Will, Danika having slipped into the empty spot beside Lina. She must have hurried over to say something to them, because this isn’t your usual seating configuration and it’s got you a bit wrong footed.

“No, no it’s fine. You go first. D’you need me to hold your bag or something?” He offers instead.

“I’ve got it. I’ll just tuck it under my legs so there’s enough room.” You slide into the booth, Jason close behind. It’s a bit cramped with the three of you on one bench. Jason’s pressed up along the length of your side, and you can feel Will’s knobby elbow digging into your rib. In such close quarters, you can’t help but notice just how big Jason is. Your head barely clears his shoulder and unseen below the table you can tell his knee extends far past yours.

“I was just telling these two that I’m a transfer student. Only a few more classes and then I graduate at the end of the year.”

“Any plans for the great beyond yet?” Rei asks, head cocked like a bird to rest on top of Lina’s head.

“Oh give him a break, the poor man hasn’t even had any lunch yet. Let us grab food before you continue the 20 questions, yeah?” Rei looks a little sheepish at your interruption and the reminder that the table in front of you and Jason is conspicuously bare.

“I packed too much for lunch today, first day jitters. We can split.” Jason interrupts.

“I— are you sure? It’s supposed to be yours.” You’ve known Jason less than three hours, exchanged maybe five sentences. It’s not the grandest gesture in the world, but it’s so nonchalantly thoughtful and offered freely. It sends warmth through you as he pulls out Tupperware, brushes your fingers as he hands over a fork.

“Don’t worry about it. And if you hate it, just pretend you don’t.” There’s absolutely no worry about that because it smells amazing. It’s some kind of pasta smothered in a creamy rosé sauce, chorizo and vegetables adding spice and colour. It’s the best thing you’ve eaten all month and he’s offering you half.

“You didn’t say that you were training to be a chef too.” You mumble around your second forkful. Skipping breakfast to catch the bus this morning had finally caught up with you and you’re starving. Turning as far in your seat as you can, you hunch over, left arm resting on the table to defend your excellent lunch from any thieves whose names did not start with J. Jason raises an eyebrow at your positively feral behaviour, satisfaction at your reaction filling his chest.

“That terrible, huh?”

“If you don’t give me the recipe eventually I might actually cry.” That startles a laugh out of him.

“Wouldn’t want that.”

“Why don’t you give him your number, and Jason can text it to you?” Danika interjects.

“Oh yes! Add him to the group chat too,” agrees Lina. Feeling rather cornered, you fish your phone out of your pocket and pass it to Jason for him to add his number one-handed. As he types, you give Danika a look that screams what are you doing. She shrugs, then bites into the foil-lined wrap she’d pulled out of her bag. Rei says something, trying to draw Will into the conversation, but is met with the usual non-committal hum. Giving up with a sigh, he starts talking to Jason, Lina and Danika chiming in every few questions or so. It’s an easy dynamic, far easier than you thought it would be when you first laid eyes on him that morning. Focused on your food, you don’t take notice of most of the conversation going on over your head. Your phone alarm starts to chime and vibrate. Fumbling with the fork and your phone, you manage to switch it off quickly as Jason looks at you inquiringly.

“Sorry, I’ve got another class across campus in Meade Hall starting in 15 minutes. I’ll have to run in five.”

“Is it ‘From Wollstonecraft to Frankenstein’ with Baird?” He asks between bites. “I’m taking that too.”

“Funny story, that. But we’ve really got to go soon if we’re going to make it on time.” He quickly downs the last bite, the two of you gathering your things in a rush to go.

“It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for the invitation Danika.” He throws the farewell over his shoulder, then turns to keep up with you as you speed walk your way out of the building. His longer legs eat up the distance you’d accidentally managed to put between the two of you. It’s completely unfair because while you have to keep up your awkward jog-walk, he settles into a loping walk that’s stupidly attractive, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket and bag slung over one broad shoulder.

Quickly, the two of you find your way to class. This time, instead of sitting alone, Jason’s right beside you sharing a table for two. His pen scratches over the pages of his notebook, handwriting spiky but neat. He takes care not to bump you with his elbow, aware of the space his body takes up. Class flies by quickly, Professor Baird an engaging speaker despite the long time block. It’s dark by the time the two of you leave the classroom, and it’ll get darker still as the days get shorter. You stretch your arms above your head, lean side to side in an attempt to work out the stiffness of your lower back.

“So what now?” Says Jason’s voice from just behind you. You turn to face him, aware of just how far you have to tilt your head back to look him in the eye.

“For me? Catching the bus home and throwing something together for dinner. What about you?”

“Something similar. You’ll be okay to get home though? Crime Alley after dark s’not the best place to be alone.”

“Yes, mom. I’ll be fine. The bus stop’s only a block from my building.” This is a conversation you’ve had with all of your friends, family, and even casual acquaintances and hearing it again has you rolling your eyes. But it was meant in kindness so you don’t take offence at the implication that you can’t look out for yourself. “But I wouldn’t mind it if we walked to the bus stop together.” Jason’s grin is so bright even in the darkening evening, lit by the campus street lamps.

The walk to the bus stop isn’t far from Meade Hall, but the two of you manage to stretch out the minutes. Feet get placed one in front of the other slowly, heels dragging behind. The night’s a wonderful cool Fall evening, not many people bothering to stay late on campus during the first week back. It’s only the two of you on the path cutting across the quad.

“What about you? Are you back in the Alley too?” you ask.

“Most of the time. Even if you leave, it doesn’t really leave you.” He responds.

“Jason Todd, are you secretly a romantic?” You tease.

“Incurably. Wouldn’t be able to survive Brit Lit otherwise.”

His grin is cheeky as he waves you off on to the bus. There’s something still lonely about him, face drained of colour by the bus stop streetlamp, a lone figure watercolour blending into the shadows at the edges. The bus pulls out with a rough jerk momentarily pulling your attention away. By the time you look back through the window he’s walking away, hands in his pocket and shoulders hunched over with that same unfairly attractive walk.

[urinarythreatinfection]

Okay I finished it, it was a little hard since I kept getting distracted with other stuff but I did it. Sorry for taking more time than I said maybe I should stop giving time framed. Anyway here's the second (and last) part.

Kindness Isn't Spineless

Luffy x gn!reader. angst with happy ending. 1284 words. Tw mention of reader's past abusive relationships. Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Luffy decides to give you space, just a bit. He’s already messed things up, now he's nervous breaking down the door would just make things worse. This isn’t like him, he should just do what feels right! The problem is none of the options feel right, all of them make him feel like they’re the wrong one. He wishes you would just open the door, make the choice for him so he could stop worrying about him. “(Y/N)!” He calls out, “Hey! I’m sorry, can you let me in?” but there’s no answer. “...Please?” You still don’t respond and he droops sadly. He doesn’t want to leave, so he just sits down next to the door and waits while thinking about what he did. Time passes and Nami comes, spotting Luffy looking dejected near your door. She already has a feeling something happened.

“Did you get kicked out?” She asks, expecting Luffy to get defensive; but he just nods, too bummed to argue. His plan of scolding him harshly softens and she sighs, crouching down to his level “What happened? You messed up, right?” She asks.

“I thought maybe if I was mean they would get braver with me, but now they’re mad.” Luffy answers and Nami sighs again.

“You know you messed up, right?” She asks and Luffy looks away, still a little stubborn. “Luffy you hurt them.” That makes him flinch and he concedes, the thought of hurting you so badly overtaking his need to be right.

“...I messed up.” It’s still a little hesitant but he admits it. Nami motions for him to go on and he tries his best to continue. “I should’ve, um, talked to them.” That’s the most he can think of for now.

“Good enough, but you should say this to them. Mkay?” Nami says softly and Luffy nods. “Good. That’ll be 5,000 berri for my advice.” She says, standing back up. “You can give it to me later, no interest~” With that, she’s gone. Luffy turns his head to look at your door, then stands up and knocks.

“(Y/N) I messed up and I’m sorry. Can you open the door?” There’s no answer and he frowns. “Please, Franky will get mad if I break it down.” There’s a huff from inside and footsteps before the door opens. His frown deepens into a guilty one seeing your eyes red from crying. “I’m sorry.” Luffy says to you and you slowly open your arms. As soon as they open he quickly hugs you tightly, all his thoughts coming out. “You’ve been so weird around me and you don’t argue with anything I started to feel bad and I wanted to help you so I just thought that if I was mean to you you would get angry one day and then actually argue back but now you’re hurt and it’s my fault I’m really sorry (Y/N) please don’t cry or break up with me I’ll try my best to not do it again even if you act weird and meek!” He rambles quickly and you pull back, which he very hesitantly lets you. “Your eyes are all red, I didn’t know you would get so sad-”

“You didn’t think I would be sad that my boyfriend was being cold to me? Luffy you’re acting stupid. I was trying so so hard to be nice to you and you just.. just brushed me off! I was scared that if I argued back you would get angry with me but now you’re saying you didn’t like that I wouldn’t argue back!? That doesn’t make any sense!” You yell at him, eyes tearing up again. Luffy listens to you.

“I just didn’t want you to be a pushover. I wanted you to be strong being with me not all meek and weak.” Luffy says softly, he still feels like it’s kind of your fault but it doesn’t matter to him. He’ll try and understand.

“...You’re right.” His heart races, are you gonna leave him again? “I’ve been meek and just way too accepting of whatever happens. I didn’t want to argue or take any risks so I let you do whatever you wanted. Your intentions were good, even if you did it in such a stupid way.” Your words are bittersweet, he’s glad you’re acknowledging what you did wrong but he doesn't want you to just give in. “Still, you hurt me, and I’m mad at you. I was starting to think you hated me, that you regretted being with me. It hurt so bad, I felt like I was back in some stupid toxic relationship with someone that doesn’t love me.” This catches Luffy’s attention.

“Hey wait what do you me-” You cover his mouth before he can finish.

“Let me speak please.” You tell him and he nods. “I’ve been in bad relationships before, ones that hurt me mentally, emotionally, and sometimes even physically. I know you wouldn’t hit me over an argument or just because you were mad but I was scared. I kept telling myself you wouldn’t but I couldn’t help it, I didn’t want to risk it. I didn’t want to risk someone I really love turning into the same people that hurt me.” Luffy listens to all of this and his emotions are conflicted. He wants to beat up anyone that hurt you, caused you to be like this; but he’s also just sad that you’re like this because of them. He feels guilty now too, maybe if he just asked you this wouldn’t have happened and he could help you get through it instead of looking at him with such fear; but you haven’t uncovered his mouth so he keeps that to himself for now. “Luffy, you didn’t just make me mad, you made me upset, you made me feel unsafe.” His heart sinks. Unsafe? He likes to tease and prank his crew members but knowing he made one of his nakama, one that he loves so much, unsafe makes him feel horrible. More than he felt when he started this whole thing in order to strengthen you. He reaches his arms out to you and you hesitate to go into them, but give in when you see how guilty he looks.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I don’t like making you feel unsafe. I won't do it again, I’ll talk with you instead of doing something crazy.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough that you know he wants you in his arms. You close your eyes and let your head fall onto his shoulder, wrapping your own arms around him.

“Okay, you have to promise me. Promise me you aren’t going to make me feel like this again.” You say and nods quickly, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“I promise. I’m gonna do my best to listen to you and talk with you, I won’t make you feel unsafe again.” Luffy pressed his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes. Your expression is still a little solemn but you nod.

“Okay, I’ll trust you.” It makes you scared saying that, nerve wracking knowing you’ll have to face and change how you’ve taught yourself to be; but looking into Luffy’s genuinely guilty and determined eyes gives you the strength to take the risk. To let go of the defenses that you’ve put up to ‘Keep the peace’ or to make sure you’re always kind and never mean. Kindness isn’t the same as letting yourself be pushed around, and you can learn that. You just need to let yourself free, and Luffy will be here with you every step of the way.

__________

yayy you reached the end thanks for reading, requests are still open I do anything to do with one piece.

[miupow]

★ 彡      pervy bsf kai! [drabble] ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bsf!hueningkai x fem!reader

. . . WORDS ! ~700

. . . NSFW, MDNI ! perv!kai, panty stealing, panty sniffing, masturbation (m. rec), plushie humping, panty kink, pocket pussies, kai turns a plushie into a fleshlight basically, this is gross, mommy kink at the end, thoughts about getting caught

THIS IS A REPOST!! this is quite possibly the nastiest piece of fiction i've ever written in my life. im obsessed with it.

kai has a secret: he’s in love with his best friend. 

well, if he was being honest, it was much more than love. It was an obsession. an obsession that’s only seeming to get worse and worse.  

“kai, what’s the matter?” you asked innocently, bustling around in the kitchen making breakfast. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“i- um—“ it might as well had been a ghost with how you were haunting him, dressed in nothing but fuzzy socks and an oversized hoodie, panties peeking out from under the hem. he was so enamored by the globes of your ass that the had forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to be staring. “nothing. don’t worry about it.”

his voice wavered a little, and you shot him a funny look. kai really hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. 

Did you know what you did to him, dressing like that all of the time? Showing off your curves, pretty ass, pretty tits, pretty tummy.. You had to, there was no way it wasn’t on purpose— it felt like multiple times a day now he was hiding the bulge in his pants with a pillow or a plushie, shoving his face in his switch to hide the fact that he was taking in greedy eyefuls of your body. He could hardly take it anymore, needed you so bad he felt like he was going to explode!

and then, it was like the gods had listened to his prayers, because later that day while he was looking for his favorite hoodie, something peeking out of your laundry basket caught his eye. 

a pair of panties. a pair of used panties.  

kai stared at them for a long, long time before checking his surroundings and shoving them into his pocket. 

he felt gross. he felt disgusting. like a nasty pervert with no self control… but his cock was so hard it was bordering on painful as he locked himself up in his room. fisting the panties in one hand he tore off his jeans and underwear with the other, cock bobbing out of his boxers and smacking against his belly with a lewd wet sound. kai didn’t hesitate to wrap a fist around himself.  

he already felt like he was moments from cumming, just from the act alone… what would you do if you caught him? would you be disgusted, call him mean names? Kai pressed your panties up against his nose, inhaled deeply— he could still smell your cunt on the fabric, imagine so clearly your pussy in his face as you called him a nasty boy.  

Kai keens high in his throat, lets go of his cock before he shoots ropes of cum all over his sheets. Instead, he reaches for his favorite toy. 

It was once a stuffed penguin you had gifted him for his birthday, years ago— it was defiled beyond recognition now, plush fur sticky and stained with countless loads of kai’s seed. it was yet another disgusting secret of his, but he cherished it more than any of his other plushies, all the way down to the pocket pussy he’s shoved into a crudely cut-out hole in it’s backside. 

he hates to tear the panties away from his greedy nose, but kai has a better idea— with a sick rush he pulls the panties onto the plush, awkward but positioned perfectly for his cock to rub up against the core.

kai cries out at the first grind down, the panties dampening with his precum and easing the slide— soon he’s humping the plushie with abandon, big hands holding it still as he rocks his hips wildly, pretty red cock weeping. 

only after he’s shot a load over the plushie’s fur and his tummy does kai sink his cock into the pocket pussy, earlier orgasm only making him more sensitive, cute staccato cries as he bottoms out— “mommy,” he whimpers to himself, pathetic and breathy as he fucks himself dizzy. “mommy, i-i’m a bad boy—!” 

oh, won’t you come and punish him? tell him how disgusting he is, let him paint the walls of your cunt white, ruin him completely? that’s what he wants more than anything~~ ♡

[annie-creates]

Life without you

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: This is a cute little comfort fluffy fic.

With a heavy sigh you close the door of your small apartment in the Firefly base, shrugging your jacket off and placing your shoes by the door. The living room is quiet and dark, not even the kitchenette light left on. No wonder the place is vacant, it must be long past midnight at this point. Not having the energy to even eat you quickly brush your teeth changing into the pajamas you left in the bathroom this morning. You’re trying to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the night peace of the place. Carefully you open the bedroom door, your girlfriends form steadily breathing on her side of bed.

You whine in pain as you sit on your side of the bed trying to relieve your tensed up muscles, the mattress dipping under your weight. With the many people who kept arriving at your camp, a lot of them needed your help as a doctor. Count in your regular patients and those who got hurt during patrols and hunting and you were overwhelmed with work. Sleep was a foreign concept to you at this point, your body running solely on caffeine and cold showers. The rare nights when you could take the time to actually go home and sleep you returned deep into the night and left before sunrise, hardy even having the time for a conversation with your girlfriend.

“Hi.” Comes from behind you and you feel the duvets shifting.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up.” You apologize in a tender voice.

“You didn’t.” But it’s clearly not true. “A lot of work?”

“A crazy lot of work.” You admit crawling into bed, Abby offering her strong embrace to you. “I wouldn’t even wish upon anyone to see it.”

“That bad?” She chuckles amused.

“Nah, even worse.” Is all you say because the last thing you want to talk about when finally coming home is your never-ending work again.

Your mind goes back to a year ago when Abby joined the fireflies, needing your medical help herself. She was a much different person back then, hurt and skinny, but also guarded and insecure. She came out of her shell a lot over the time, being an amazing companion, endlessly supportive and caring. She always understood when you had too much work or needed her to reassure you in your skills. Her hair had grown out to a shot bob now and she built her muscles into a strong frame.

“When was the last time you slept?” She asks watching the dark bags under your beautiful eyes.

“Um, Monday? What day is it?” You answer unsure, your mind and eyes already too heavy to hold a meaningful conversation.

“Thursday.” From her vice it’s clear Abby doesn’t approve of this, but all she does is tighten her hold on you.

She carefully caresses your back and you play with her short hair. You told her how beautiful she’d look with it longer, but she’s adamant on not letting it grow longer than her collar bones. It’s practical, won’t get in her way in a fight, she always says, but you can see she has deeper reasons not to want long hair she’s not yet ready to share with you. As you’re falling into slumber, a harsh knock on the front door startles you awake.

“Really?” You complain under your breath getting up to open the door before your girlfriend can stop you.

You open the door to find the west group’s captain on the other side, tapping his foot impatiently. You can already guess where this is going, waving your sleep a goodbye in your head for another night. Sometimes it felt like the planet would stop turning and freeze over if you took just thirty minutes to have a break. You contemplate shutting the door in his face but you’re just not that kind of person, besides there could be an actual emergency needing your attention.

“What can I do for you?” You offer instead.

“I need you to come look at one of our guys, he got an arrow to his knee and…” He keeps rumbling.

“Do you know what time it is!?” shutting him up your girlfriend inserts herself into the door frame, her arms already folded over her broad chest in anger. “You have like ten other doctors to look after him, let this one have a night of sleep, Jesus Christ.”

“But he’s…” He tries to argue with her, not knowing it’s equivalent to signing your own death certificate.

“He’s not going to die till morning. For fucks sake.” Not letting him continue she shuts the door with a harsh swing. “You really need to learn how to say no sometimes.” She admonishes you being in a rage.

“Thank you, my knight in a shining armor.” It’s only half joke because you know deep down she’s right and people need to stop using you so much. “What would I do without you.”

“Die of sleep deprivation.” The look on her face is serious but you see it in her eyes she’s not actually mad at you.

Hugging her neck you give her a loving kiss, content you might actually get some sleep in tonight now. She picks you up forcing you to hang your lets around her waist and carries you back to bed, wrapping herself around you like a snake to stop you from getting up again and also because she loves your affection and scent. It wasn’t hard to get sleepy again in her warm embrace full of love and care.

“Now sleep.” She commands you and you have no intention to disobey her.

Sometimes you really didn’t know what you’d do without her, but she felt equally lost in the world without you. She couldn’t let you get yourself hurt one way or another, partly because she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you weren’t by her side. At this point she couldn’t imagine her life without you.

[headkiss]

Peter dealing with a reader who has a bad migraine and having to ask the others how to help because they’ve dealt with it before ☹️ scared of hurting her more but also scared of not being caring enough

hiii tysm for requesting!!! it’s a teeny bit different but i hope u like it all the same <33 | 0.7k of fluff

You and Peter have this unspoken agreement anytime there’s a need for partners in class. Your eyes searching for his, his already on you when you find them.

Then, you’ll go to one of your houses and start as soon as possible. It’s easy to work with him. He’s smart (like, insanely smart), kind, and you’d like to think you’re friends. It’s difficult not to get distracted by him. His soft eyes, messy hair, shy smile.

Even so, you’d rather be partners with him than anyone else.

You’re sitting at the small, round kitchen table in your apartment with him, textbooks spread out, pencils scratching against your notebooks. It’s a comfortable silence, a practiced routine that makes you not mind homework so much.

When you peek up at him, he’s bent close to his page, hair falling over his forehead. You hold your pencil tighter to stop yourself from reaching out and touching him. You look back down quickly.

As time goes on, it’s not him that distracts you so much today. Instead, it’s a pressure in your head, a pounding that’s getting louder and louder and harder to ignore. Having to look so closely at words on paper isn’t helping, and it isn’t long before you drop the pencil onto the table and rest your forehead on the cool wood of the table.

Peter notices something’s wrong. He’s always been good at that, now more than ever.

“You okay, bug?” He asks, and you think his voice is the only one you’d tolerate right now.

“Headache,” you mumble.

“You get them a lot?” Peter abandons his work, too, and leans over to brush his hand over your arm.

“Yeah, sometimes. Just give me a minute, and we can keep going.”

He shakes his head, “we’ll do it another day. What can I do to help?”

“There’s some meds in the bathroom. Behind the mirror. The blue label.”

Just like that, the warmth of his hand, of his presence, leaves you. It makes the pain a little worse, him being gone, like his touch was enough to help.

Peter worries easily, and when it comes to you, it’s only worse. He looks through the cabinet and finds what he thinks you wanted him to grab, but he feels like he should be helping more, he wants to help more.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials Aunt May’s number.

“Peter, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just, um, what do you do when someone has a migraine?”

“Is your head hurting? You can come home and-”

“No,” he stops her. “Not mine.”

She knows he’s with you, and though he’s never told her outright, May also knows that he likes you. A lot.It’s pretty obvious with how often he talks about you, with how his face sort of lights up when he does.

“Ohhh,” she hums in understanding. He can’t see it, but she’s smiling on her side of the phone. “I see. Turning off the lights helps, and a cool towel on the face or neck.”

“Thanks, May.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He hangs up and hopes he didn’t keep you waiting for long. It’s just, he’s afraid that he might hurt you, that he might make things worse and that’s the last thing he’d want. So, he had to make sure he knew how to help.

You’re sitting in the same chair, but your head’s no longer resting on the table. You’re sitting up with your eyes squinted, trying to block out the light a little.

“Here, bug,” Peter says quietly, handing you the small bottle.

“Thank you, Peter. You don’t have to stay, by the way.”

“I’d like to stay. If that’s alright?”

It’s embarrassing to be seen all weak, but Peter is nothing but gentle with you. He keeps his voice quiet like he doesn’t want to irritate you. You decide you’d rather spend more time with him than not.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

You’ve ended up on the couch, the lights off and the apartment silent besides the sounds of Peter moving about.

He comes back with a small towel in hand, sitting next to you and guiding your head onto his shoulder. Slowly, he lifts his arm to press the towel against your forehead, and he keeps it there for you.

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. Feels nice.”

It could be the towel, or the meds, or it could just be him, but you feel better and better by the minute.

[coolcoolcoolbutwtf]

Receptionist Danny working in the main Wayne lobby

First few days at the job site and Danny was already regretting getting this job.

Why?

Because this exact scenario had been repeated five times already just today. Not as persistent as THIS one though. God he is so tired of this bull. It got tiring after the third time now he's just tired and annoyed.

A bad combo considering Danny the "Town Menace Phantom" Fenton was beginning to lose the little patients he had left.

' just count down from ten like Jazz had taught me years ago'. Danny gave a sigh and kept repeating the mantra in his mind.

He has to stay strong he fought ghost for years! What is a few minutes worth of questions from a few eager journalist? He could handle Wes how could they be any worse?

Oh who was he kidding certainly not himself! Not after having suffered a day full of questions about shit he didn't know squat about.

This situation with this gender bent Wes was WORSE considering Danny couldn't just tell her to piss off. The others had just asked a few questions or had gotten turned down regarding questions. Not TO bad. He could handle it. He still kinda liked this job. Well, he likes the work benefits. It was the main reason he applied after all.

So give him some credit this was the sixth harpy "journalist" to come sniffing around after having gotten wind of a new employee in the main office. Though their sources must be bad. He was just a receptionist! Not the new head of the financing department or Bruce Wayne's new secretary, leave him alone!

He doesn't know what the company boss does??? Why ask him? How would lil' old receptionist Danny Fenton know!

Has he not suffered enough?? His suffering with this specific harpy had been going on for the past twenty five minutes.

"So, where does Bruce Wayne leave for during his meetings? A new woman? Man? Trouble in the family?"

Vicky Vale as she had introduced herself before had officially made Danny hear his last strained thread of patients fraying. He could only take so much before the menace in him gott done with this nonsense. Time for Ms Vale to go away, fuck off and not come back. Danny menace mode ON now.

Smiling the most customer service™ smile he could manage Danny responded in the flattest tone he was capable of.

"Well to fuck your mom of course, Ms Vale."

And of course at just the moment the older receptionist Ms Linda Smith that had been in charge of showing Danny the territory before retirement finally came back. With two coffee cups in her hands. She had taken off on her break the moment she spotted Ms Vale walking towards the front desk. She promised to grab him a coffee on her way back. Truly abandoning him to the wolves. Or wolf. She had bribed him and Danny hadn't even known what kind of suffering awaited him. Ms Linda had started speaking.

"Okay Danny no we don't---

Danny didn't know exactly what was up with the big boss and his family. Something was definitely up but he didn't think it was bad.

"And your dad, because we here at Wayne enterprises support the LBGTQIA community. Thank you and leave.

((((((((((((End )))))))))))) :)

Thank you for reading! I might do some more for this idea again. This is basically just the idea by @some-rotten-nest link below. I've had a similar idea about Danny being an evil assistant before. Not a receptionist though. It was fun writing this I keep thinking about all the interesting scenarios that could play out in this (Au?) Idea. Also I just wanted to test the waters. I've never written anything and actually posted it before. I hope this was okay. Um bye and have a good day oh am I kidding have a good night!

This idea is based on this https://www.tumblr.com/some-rotten-nest/725017913035276288/danny-fenton-a-new-receptionist-at-wayne by the amazing @some-rotten-nest ! I was just so inspired by it, all of my creative instincts were just itching to make something for this<3

>:D

[definatelymrhyde]

Worse than I had thought lore dump because I’ve been holding it in way too long

THE CHARACTERS

JEKYLL

Jekyll is meant to be a little crazy, or at least very eccentric. Think like he’s TGS Jekyll, but slightly crazier and much less good at masking his true emotions. He was disgusted at Edward when he first created him, and as much as he hates to admit it, he and Edward are verrrrrry similar. I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it yet, but Edwards' mannerisms and ways of movement and facial expressions are just exaggerated versions of all of Jekylls. Why, they’re literally the same person, just not. Confused? Yeah, me too. He tries to be polite with Edward and stuff but he just isn’t very good at it. This backfires later on.

EDWARD

Edward is weirdly chill at the start of the fic, and also a little socially awkward. But this is kind of just because at the point we’re at right now, he’s been an existing being for what, like eight to fourteen days or something?? He’s Jekyll but intensified, and if we’re going with the theme of masking, he just.. doesn’t mask anything about himself. He also actively spoils books for people which is kind of funny. Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t JUST an eccentric bad boy or whatever. He’s a terrible person. He’s all of Jekylls (or what Jekyll himself considers to be) bad traits personified. Edward is openly mean, VERY spiteful and just generally a not nice person to be around. He doesn’t like people lying to him, he knows by Chapter gen that Jekyll doesn’t like him and trust me, it’s MUCH more than what you see at the end of that last chapter (as of posting this at least). He gets MUCH worse, and the whole situation with him and Jekyll is much WORSE THAN YOU THOUGHT. (BAD-UM SSSSS PUN INTENDED. HA.)

UTTERSON

He’s concerned for his friend, Jekyll. And you know what? He’s probably the least insane and most reasonable one here. I would trust him with my life honestly. He’s responsible, kind, and generally a good person if a little bit nosy when it comes to other peoples situations. But he has good reasons. JEKYLL TRIED TO FRAME IT LIKE UTTERSON BETRAYED HIM BY OPENING THE LETTER. UTTERSON DID NOT DONT LET JEKYLL GET TO YOU UTTERSON IS A WONDERFUL PERSON.

THE MURDERER

You know, I’ve never actually done much but describe the way these guys look. But they DO have cannon designs and some pretty intense lore I’m not revealing yet because spoilers. We don’t like spoilers here.

Yes that was plural. The plural part was intentional. You’ll see.

THE MORALS

All actions have consequences: This isn’t just Jekyll creating oh super evil Edward, it’s his constant mistreatment of his already ‘evil’ or ‘distasteful’ alter ego. Jekylls first thought upon seeing Edward was essentially ‘oh fuck oh god what have I done what have I created what have I unleashed upon this world.’ Followed by pure disgust and shame about what he’s created, or rather what he’s done to himself. Of course, Edwards reaction upon digging through their memories (which is never shown, but mentioned in I THINK chapter ten?) is to be spiteful and live up to what Jekyll thinks he is.

Yes, everything CAN get worse: It’s in the name. Worse than I had thought. TGS Jekyll (Henry), upon looking at a situation almost identical to his from an outside perspective realizes that maybe his situation is worse than he plays it off to be. It’s a BAD situation for both Henry AND Hyde.

Sometimes, being TOO similar can make some people hate one another: Hyde and Edward do not like eachother. They’re too similar but also too different at the same time and it’s jarring to both of them.

And here’s the big one, Masking: Essentially Jekyll masks and put on a facade (haha get it? GET IT??) of being a nice perfect person, and isn’t very good at it and Edward goes “fuck it we ball.”

THE UNIVERSE

This is a biggie to explain. So essentially, yes, it’s a musical, but it’s not THE musical. The songs do not appear in the same order as they do in the original show, instead they appear in whatever context I say fits. The music part works as follows: The music and underscoring (music that plays during a scene or in interludes with dialogue) is an integral part of the universe. Ingrained in everyone’s minds, the motifs they need to know, what means danger, what means it’s time to sing, they know it all. And the singing? It’s just a thing that happens there. It’s a way to push along stories and life and stuff.

The story basis of the universe itself is different. It’s like a mix of the original book, the musical and TGS in a way. I’m not even 100% sure how to explain it myself. But I CAN provide some fun facts about it!!

-Jekyll does not date and is not engaged to Lisa/Emma Carew, and he’s never romantically involved with Lucy either. Because I didn’t want to write romance.

-I’m not sure if I’ll ever mention it, but it IS a cannon fact that Lisa/Emma and Lucy are girlfriends because I’m the creator of the Musical Mixup universe and I do what I want i guess

-Utterson and Jekyll have been friends since probably just before, or since the start of university! They’re very close, and there was even a deleted Edward dialogue saying “I mean, we get along better than them, still not as good as you and Utterson, though.” That was deleted because my editor, Ash, mentioned that it sounded like a dirty joke and I hadn’t intended for it to sound like that.

Aaaand that’s about as much as I can say without there being spoilers for any stuff in chapters I haven't posted yet. If that made zero sense then I apologize, feel free to ask me questions and stuff! I don’t bite, I promise!!

The end!! (For now, probably at least)

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 1

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.5K

Series masterlist here; next chapter here

“Reid?” 

“Shh, go back to sleep,” you muttered as you slid into the bed, pressing the cold tops of your feet against his warm calves. 

“How was the date?” he asked. 

You opened up one eye. He had his head smashed against the pillow, blue eyes zeroed in on you. “Awful,” you whispered. “Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

"That bad, huh?"

"He picked up his steak with his hands and bit into it."

Bob chuckled softly, gently jostling the queen-sized mattress. “I’m sorry, that's pretty bad.”

You groaned, nuzzling into his side. “Bobby. Am I ever going to find someone?”

He placed his hand on your cheek, so light it was barely a whisper. “Of course you will. You're everyone's dream girl.” 

“You promise?” you murmured, sleep already starting to weigh you down. 

Bob’s fingers threaded softly through your hair. “Yeah, darlin’, I promise.” 

Present 

“Bobby?” 

“Reid?” There was wind whipping on the other end of the phone line, so loud you could barely hear him. “Sorry, I’m on deck.” 

You smiled, leaning back against the ratty couch. “It’s good to hear your voice,” you said. 

On the other end, Bob smiled. “You too, darlin’. Now what’s going on?” 

“A girl can’t just call her best friend to say hi? Especially when said best friend is on his way home from a deadly mission.” 

“They’re all deadly,” Bob said carefully and you heard the pain in his voice. It was the pain that was always there now, ever since he lost her. “And you can. Of course you can.” He paused. “But I also know you. And you sound like you have something specific you want to talk about.” 

He knew you too well. It struck a sense of fear, deep in your gut. You couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not everything. “I, um, I got a new job.” 

“Really?” 

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and placed one foot on the taped cardboard box at your feet. 

“Reid?” You could hear the confusion in his low, rumbling voice. “Darlin', you gotta speak up, can barely hear you over the waves. Weather is really bad out here today.” 

“I’m moving to San Diego,” you said loudly. “I’ll see you in two days.” 

Bob paused. Then, “For real?” 

You smiled. “Yeah, Bobby, for real this time.” 

Bob let out an excited laugh. “That’s great, Sunny.” Your skin flushed at the nickname. “Key is under the mat, like always.” You loved that he just assumed — correctly — that your plan was to live with him in his second bedroom. It went without saying. That’s how it had always been with Bob. Easy. 

Well, most of the time. 

This wouldn’t be like all the other times. This wouldn’t be easy.

“I’ll see you on Saturday.” 

“See you on Saturday, Sunny.” 

***

Bob could still pinpoint the exact moment he first laid eyes on you. Sophomore year. Intro to psychology. 

You were perched on the edge of a desk, long tanned legs swinging, the back of your heeled sandals occasionally hitting the leg of the desk, as you chatted with another girl in the class. 

Bob watched as you tipped your head back in an open-mouthed laugh, golden waves spilling down your back. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you during class. The way you tapped your pen against your red lips and the way you furiously scribbled in a notebook when everyone else was typing on laptops and the look of concentration on your face as the professor flicked through slides. 

So it was the shock of a lifetime when three weeks into the semester, Bob was packing up his Jansport backpack and he saw your red nails enter his peripheral as you waved at him. 

“Hi!” you said with a smile. 

Bob looked up, fingers almost trembling as he tried to zip his backpack shut. He looked around, confused. “Me?” he asked. 

You giggled. “Yeah. Hi, I’m Reid.” 

“Um, I’m Bob,” he said, sticking out his hand. 

You looked at it dubiously and then shook it. “So, your presentation was great,” you said softly. 

“Thank you.” He was nervous. You could tell by the way his eyes kept darting down instead of meeting your own. You were nervous, too. You didn’t like asking for help. It didn’t come naturally. But your faculty advisor had said you needed to pass this course to stay on track for your degree. And Bob had seemed like the nicest person to ask. “I know this sounds weird,” you replied. “But what are the chances you would be willing to tutor me? Or be study partners.” 

“What?” 

You cleared your throat. “I need to pass this class,” you confessed. “And you did so well on the presentation I was thinking that maybe you could help me.” The confused, blank look on Bob’s face made you shake your head. “Fuck, OK, this was a dumb idea. You know what? Nevermind. Pretend I didn’t say anything.” As you turned to walk away, Bob’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist. You looked down. His hands were large, strong, with protruding veins. When you looked up, you noticed perhaps for the first time how attractive he was, in a nerdy, kind sort of way. The small mouth and gentle smile, the warm eyes behind a pair of wire glasses. “I’ll tutor you,” he said after a moment. 

“Really?” 

Bob nodded and you were so elated that you tossed your arms around his neck, hugging him close. Bob stood with his hands outstretched, afraid to touch you. When you pulled back, his face was in a state of shock. 

You chuckled. “Here.” You ripped off a corner piece of your spiral notebook page and scribbled your number on it. “Text me?” 

Bob gripped the scrap of paper between his thumb and index finger and watched as you left the room, tossing a wave over your shoulder with a brilliant smile. 

Bob’s hand trembled as he slid the piece of paper into his pocket. Somehow, he knew. You had walked into his life that day and changed everything.

***

You sat at the bar Bob had told you to meet him at, wearing a short pink dress with a small ruffled hem. It was tight across the top and you knew your chest was on display, but in a flirty way, not a scandalous way. You looked good and you knew it. 

For some reason, you always tried to look good for Bob. Even though he had seen you in vomit-covered t-shirts during college and he had been the one to drive you to the emergency room with a 104 degree temperature that time you visited him in Pensacola and even if you spent ninety percent of your trip to the Almalfi coast together with no makeup on and your hair pulled back into a slicked bun, you still always made an effort for the reunion. There was something important about feeling your best the moment Bob’s eyes locked on yours after a deployment. You would wait months just to see the way his blue eyes sparkled as he took you in for the first time after a separation, the giddy smile on his handsome face as he swept you into his arms. 

It made the reunion special.

You looked good. So that’s why you weren’t surprised when a blond slid onto the barstool next to you, leaning one tanned arm on the wooden bar. “Hey beautiful,” he said softly. “Let me get you a second drink.” 

You rolled your eyes and swiveled toward him, tanned legs crossing over each other, one heeled ankle brushing over his calf. “I’m good.” 

He looked you up and down. He was beautiful, in an obvious way. Taunt golden skin, bright green eyes, a Colgate-sponsored smile. “You sure about that, baby?” he asked. “Anything you like, on me.” 

You shook your head. “Like I said, I’m good. I’m waiting for someone.” 

He leaned closer. “Someone better than me?” 

You smirked. 

Then, “Sunny.” 

You whipped around, practically launching yourself off of the stool and into Bob’s arms. He held you tightly, his warm, strong arms gripping your waist, one hand threaded into the base of your hair. He smelled the same, like jet fuel and oranges and a hint of spicy cologne, and you sunk into his familiar embrace. For a second, everything else faded away and it was just you in Bob's arms. 

And then reality set back in. After a moment, you pulled away, only a few inches, running one hand over his soft cheek. 

“What took you so long?” you murmured. “This jackass tried to get me into bed, and I actually thought about it for a second.” You hooked a finger toward the blond at the bar behind you.

Bob chortled and let you go. The two of you looked over at the blond, who looked like his eyes were going to fall out. He was practically stuttering in silence.  

“Floyd?” he asked carefully after a moment. “What the fuck?” 

Bob shook his head. “I see you met Sunny.” 

“Sunny?” 

“Reid Coleman,” you said, holding out a hand. The blond took it, pumping your hand slowly, hesitantly. His face was twisted in confusion. 

“Jake Seresin,” he said, squinting. He turned his gaze back to Bob. “You can call me Hangman. Floyd, is this your girlfriend?” There was a disbelief threaded through his words. 

The two of you laughed. You reached out, interlacing your fingers with Bob’s. The tips of his ears blushed pink. “No,” you answered for him. Then you gave Jake a look of disdain. “I’m still out of your league, though.” 

“But you’re in Floyd’s?” he asked, aghast. 

You chuckled. “Honey, I couldn’t get Bobby if I tried.”

“Sunny,” Bob whispered, low and gravely, a warning, and you flashed him a brilliant smile. 

“I’m Bobby’s new roommate,” you replied. 

Hangman raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He turned to Bob. “You gonna introduce her to the team, Floyd?” 

You both turned to Bob expectantly. He fiddled with his large hands. “Bobby?” you asked. 

He leaned in close to your ear. “They’re going to ask questions,” he whispered. “About us. Just hope you know that.” 

You tipped your head to the side. “Nothing to hide,” you smiled. “Right?” 

Bob gazed at you. “Right,” he repeated softly. 

Hangman looked between the two of you and frowned. He didn’t care what words were coming out of your mouths, he knew there was something more beneath the surface that neither of you was ready to admit. He also knew you were ten times hotter than any girl he had ever seen Bob speak to, and he was still partially in shock that you were here with Floyd. 

You followed Bob and Jake to the back of the bar near the pool table. Hangman immediately went and whispered in the ear of a tall guy with incredible cheekbones who turned his gaze on you with a smirk. 

Bob tapped a massive guy in a hideous Hawaiian shirt, startling him. “Rooster?” 

“Little busy here, Bob,” Rooster said, tapping his pool cue and sinking a striped ball into the back left pocket. He looked up, registering you standing there, and immediately dropped the cue. “Fuck, OK, you have my attention.” 

You shook your head with a small smile. Bob cleared his throat. “Um, guys, someone I want you to meet. Rooster, this is Reid, my best friend from college.” 

Rooster stepped forward, slotting his huge hand into yours with a grin. “Bradley,” he said. “Or you can call me Rooster, whatever you prefer.” 

You smiled. “Chicken man,” you said. “Rooster it is.” 

He laughed. Bob pointed to the man next to him, who stepped forward with a smile. “And this is Fanboy.” You shook his head. “And Payback.” Another handshake. “That’s Coyote.” The tall cheekbones guy that Hangman had rushed over to stepped forward and shook your hand with a smirk. “And this is Phoenix.” 

Your eyes locked on the female aviator, her dark hair pulled back into a slick bun, and you rushed forward, pulling her into an embrace. Natasha was shocked, winding her thin arms around you with hesitation. 

You pulled back and laughed. “Sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve just heard a lot about you from Bobby.” You looked back at him, and then turned to face Phoenix. “You keep him safe every day. Makes you a hero in my book.” 

You watched Phoenix’s eyes glisten as you dropped your hands from her forearms, stepping back. Bob pressed one large hand to your low back and you grinned, threading your arm around his waist, squeezing him gently. 

Phoenix smiled.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said softly. “Floyd here can’t stop talking about you.” 

You looked up at Bob who blushed. “Is that so?” 

He shook his head. “Phoenix, stop giving her a big head,” he muttered. “Don’t give her an excuse to be even more cocky.” 

You nudged his hip with yours and Bob smirked. 

Phoenix locked eyes with you. “It’s really nice to meet you, Reid.” 

The corner was quiet for a moment until you looked up at Rooster. “Alright, next round on me.” 

There were cheers and you hooked your finger at Bradley, silently asking him to come with you to help carry the drinks. He followed you to the bar, placing his forearms on the smooth wood, looking over at you. “So, Reid, how long are you in town for?” 

“Moved here today,” you said. “I’m staying with Bobby for now.” 

“What do you do?” 

“I was a travel writer,” you said, flagging down the waitress and ordering a long island iced tea, while Bradley ordered for the rest of the team. “But I’m starting a new job as a content specialist with a firm here.” 

He nodded. “Why the switch?�� 

You fiddled with the cocktail napkin on the bar. “Just needed a change, I guess.” 

Bradley grinned, leaning a little closer, his enormous bicep flexing at his side. “So you and Bob?” 

“Just friends.”

“Are you, uh, involved?” he asked after a moment. 

You smiled. “No, not right now.” The truth was, you hadn’t been in a long-term relationship in almost three years. It just didn’t suit your lifestyle. 

At least, that’s what you always told yourself. 

You leaned one elbow onto the bar. “Why do you ask, Chicken? You hitting on me or something?” 

Bradley smiled. “If you were Bob’s girl, I wouldn’t dream of it. But it sounds like you’re not.” 

You glanced over to the left where Bob was standing with Natasha, laughing softly at something she said. There was a sense of relief, just being in the same room as him. Knowing he was safe and alive and on dry land. Knowing he wasn’t in the skies. Then you turned back to Bradley. “I’m his,” you said quietly. “Not in the way you’d think, not in any kind of tangible way. But I’m his if that makes any sense.” 

Bradley nodded, scooping up the collection of beer bottles the bartender had set down in front of the two of you. “Makes all the sense in the world.” 

A/N: A bit of a slower start, but I am excited about these two! This is my first Bob series ☺️

Tag list: (or turn on notifications for my library @ereardonlibrary)

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite

@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @teacupsandtopgun

@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16

@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation

@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @emorychase @horseshoegirl

@xoxabs88xox @abaker74 @evans-dejong @clancycucumber230 @horseshoegirl

@mygyn @storysimp @interstellarloneliness @bobfloydsbabe

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Hi, me again! I was just wondering, following the ‘what if the wizards were actually surrendering’ ask, if the wizards really did give up fairy hunting, what do you think they’d do? (Sorry if I’m sending you too many asks, I just really like your takes.) Thank you!

Hiii sorry it took me a sec to get to this one!! I'll put a link to that ask right here for anyone who's wondering, since it's been a bit. Never worry about sending too many asks either, like I said a while back; I'll get to them eventually! If it takes some time before you hear back from me, sincerely <3 My bad <3 Was a little occupied with another fandom this time and actively participating in both got to me djsksdk

Moving on though!

In my mind they've really already been living normally, like between locking away the fairies and Roxy's magic making itself known I mean- Of course the logistics of it are a bit um. All over the place. Considering they're immortal, sort of. Do they have legal documents? Real or fake? Did they have any mortal friends and how would that work? And JOBS?? The way none of these are obstacles for Duman btw, that's why they killed him, they didn't want him to roam and do whatever anymore. Real and Canon.

Now in a post-alt ending-S4 timeline, the one where they did surrender, do we assume that they just can't use their magic, or that they don't have it anymore? Because that'd probably change the way they live afterwards pretty drastically. Aside from the fact some of them heavily depend on magic more than the others (Ogron and Duman get help smh), HORRENDOUS case scenario, they might all be mortal. For the sake of my own mental health though, I'm just gonna say they do still have magic and are in fact not mortal, just give them a fairy parole officer, some magic blocking thing, keep them around and use them for "good" stuff after a rehabilitation period or something. That's what I'd prefer anyway.

What would they be doing during said rehabilitation period? Started out as a bit of a shared joke, but tbh Anagan model career WHEN. He'd struggle with the lack of useable magic the least too, so he'd probably thrive during the whole thing more than the others, and as he should. Besides Anagan I don't have a whole lot ngl- I mean, I'd like to think Duman had lots of jobs back in the day, not sure if I mentioned that before, but I might make a separate post if I didn't, just because I have thoughts but other stuff to talk about rn sjsjksk

Ogron and Gantlos don't have a lot either MY BAD, but I do think Ogron might be more likely to have friends, maybe surprisingly. Meanwhile Gantlos has a bigger chance of being able to hold down a stable job. What job? Great question! I'm not sure yet. If that changes I'll be sharing with the class!

Moving on once again!! What could the "good" stuff I mentioned above be exactly? Education.

Correct me if I'm wrong. But are there no. Wizard or witch school on Earth?? I know they ended up opening a fairy school later on, but those aren't the only magic users suddenly learning of the dormant magic in their roots. Let's take the comic character Gregory for example. He learns he's a wizard, he tries to enroll into a wizard school(?) off planet. Nothing inherently wrong with going to a school off planet- The Winx did it too, lots of magic users do it, what is wrong though, is being turned down and having no alternatives. And even worse?? They tell him it's because. There's a darkness in him?? Or something?? I could excuse it slightly more if it was a case of "Oh your magic is dark aligned and this is a light magic school" because wizard canonically are known to be both, right? But aside from the fact that, again, there are no alternatives for him, as far as he knows, telling a newly awakened magic user that he's basically too evil to teach is CRAZY I'm sorry??

Here's where I cutely insert the Wizards of the Black Circle. Have them become the place to go when your magic energy alignment is dark (because it doesn't inherently have to mean evil and they're worthy of education in this essay I) on Earth, or even just. Any magic user who isn't a fairy. Just give them another Terrestrial option, options are always good. I think that'd be really neat.

You might sit here and go "The evil wizards are gonna teach the next generation of wizards? Could history not repeat itself??" Well. Yeah. But are the Terrestrial fairies not teaching their next generation now too? The same fairies who canonically turned on humanity at some point? These are all 'what if' scenarios, I'd just like to think that with proper communication this time around, things will be different and both fairy and wizard get to work towards that together. I'm normal and have slept a reasonable amount.

[itsclydebitches]

Summary: Tarina, a new apprentice at Sorcerous Sundries, becomes intrigued by a wizard and his oddly colored raven. 

Pairing: Gale/Astarion, outsider PoV

Word Count: 3,427

Part of the Little by Little, Step by Step collection

Inspired by @cake-apostate post <3

Tarina had never seen a white raven before.

It sat tall on the wizard’s shoulder, surveying Sorcerous Sundries with what she wanted to say was a haughty air. That was ridiculous though... right? Plenty who passed through the store could summon up a familiar, but this creature lacked the same aura of magic those conjured beasts wore. It might have been a druid showing off their impressive Wild Shape, but Brenan had given her that You’re An Idiot Apprentice look when she’d asked, reiterating that every druid’s shape was identical to another’s. It was built into the spell. You’d have better chance spotting a Wild Shaped druid not by its behavior, but by how conspicuously brown it was.

She supposed it might have been a normal bird bound to the wizard, even trained, but Tarina had never seen plumage of that coloring. The raven was pure white, from the tip of its beak all the way down, the only color on its body stemming from piercing, blood-red eyes. Sometimes Tarina caught the bird watching her and shivered, feeling hunted. Which again, ridiculous. She might have only just started her training, but even she could best a two-pound corvid.

The wizard must not have found what he was looking for because Tarina watched as he shook his head, gesturing angrily at their collection of scrolls. As he did, the movement dislodged the raven, nearly sending it to the floor.

It proceeded to bite the wizard’s neck in retaliation.

Then it gagged.

“—don’t know how many times I need to say it!” the wizard was yelling as he left the shop, one hand on the small wound and the other trying to grab the raven by the scruff of its neck.

They got all types in Sundries, but this was odd even by their standards. Tarina didn’t know what was up with those two but she was damn well going to figure it out.

Besides, mysteries were better than doing inventory any day.

***

“Excuse me, um—Master Rolan?”

Tarina had tried to present herself as respectfully and unobtrusively as possible, going so far as to give a little curtsy as she approached (which probably looked stupid in breeches). For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her—or worse, was ignoring her—but then Master Rolan sighed and raised a hand to his eyes, squeezing them shut.

“Please don’t call me that.”

Tarina blinked. Being corrected probably wasn’t a good thing, but he didn’t sound mad. She decided to risk shuffling a little closer, standing beside him as he looked out over the store’s upper railing. “Why...?”

“Would you like to know what I’ve learned about others, myself, or my true motivation?”

Okay, maybe wizard dude and his raven weren’t that weird, not if this was the guy running things. Tarina was trying to figure out if this was some kind of test when Rolan turned, his lips twisting into a self-deprecating smile.

“Lorroakan was this tower’s previous master,” he said, “and I have no intention of following in his depraved footsteps. Beyond that, however, I still have a great deal to learn about the arcane arts and have not yet earned the title of ‘Master’ even if I wanted to take it. Mystra knows my folly has endangered enough of us already. But really...” Rolan leaned closer, a spark of... something lighting up his eyes. “My sister Lia will never let me hear the end of it if she catches you calling me that, so save me the trouble and I won’t have to fire you without recommendation. Alright?”

“Right!” Oh, this had been a bad idea. Tarina couldn’t tell if Rolan was joking, but she really wasn’t inclined to find out. She couldn’t afford it. Literally, given the weight of her coin purse. She mumbled a nonsense apology to her feet and started backing away when Rolan raised a hand, halting her.

“Where are you going? Didn’t you need something?”

...right.

“It’s nothing much Ma—uh, Rolan. I was just wondering if you knew this customer?” Tarina started gesturing a little wildly and willed herself to stop. Her hands didn’t listen. “Wizard type. Shoulder-length brown hair. Beard. Wears a weave earring and seems to have a preference for purple?”

Rolan was staring at her, long enough and hard enough that Tarina because to sweat. She could see a muscle ticking in his jaw and wondered if she was about to be blasted off the balcony.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I know him.”

“Do you... know what’s up with his raven?”

All at once the tension left Rolan and he snorted, a sound of dry amusement. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, Attention seeking idiots but Tarina couldn’t be sure. When he spoke though it was with such deliberate seriousness that she was instantly suspicious:

“Would you believe me if I said that raven is his husband?”

“...No.”

“Well then. I suppose there’s nothing left but for you to get back to work.”

Tarina went, wondering halfheartedly if Arcane Atheneum was hiring. Without recommendations.

***

Two months since she’s started working and training at Sorcerous Sundries. A month since she’d first seen the raven. A week of making her list.

It was, unfortunately, a rather unhelpful list.

Things The Raven Does (That Maybe Aren’t Very Raven-y?)

Likes to sunbathe on the Southside bookshelves while the wizard browses

Seems to enjoy annoying whoever is in his vicinity. Master Rolan is a favorite target

(Raven is a “he.” Heard wizard use pronoun after kissing his beak. Husband???)

(Look up legal precedent of human/animal relationships in Faerûn)

Preens at compliments but won’t let anyone else hold him

Update. Exceptions: white-haired cleric, githyanki (!!!), two druids, adventurer of undetermined race/gender, and Minsc. Fucking Minsc was in our shop

Update for the update: raven tried to hunt Misc’s hamster. It didn’t end well

Snatched a bracelet off a woman’s wrist and tried to fly off with it. Wizard summoned ice wall that Raven slammed into. Woman distraught. Raven pissed (sounds like a tea-kettle crossed with an un-oiled hinge). Rolan threw fireballs until wizard cleaned up the water from his melting wall (this did more damage to the books than anything else, but I was too scared to point that out)

Possible successful second attempt: man’s gold-plated quill went missing during checkout. Raven nearby. Can only describe his behavior as ‘too innocent’. Looks like he would have whistled if he could

Tends to bite. Has a preference for necks (kinky??)

Is generally an asshole. Like, even more than the average bird

Tarina started down at the notes, hoping that something would jump out at her and make it all make sense.

Nothing did. If anything, her already messy scrawl grew incomprehensible as her eyes watered. Tarina let out a massive yawn, tipping her head back to suck in more oxygen. Maybe Rolan would let her pop out for a coffee before next shift? 

When she opened her eyes again the wizard was standing before her.

“Hello there,” he said, giving a wave.

Tarina made a sound approaching ‘Ulp’ and ‘Gah’ if they’d had an unholy baby together.

“Quite,” the wizard replied. “Now, I don’t suppose you have any tomes on the magical co-efficient found in cherry wood carved staffs, do you? While I wouldn’t go so far as to describe this as an emergency per se, your expedience in the matter would be greatly appreciated.”

The raven sat on his shoulder once more, staring at Tarina with an unnatural focus. Without taking his red eyes off her he croaked something towards the wizard’s ear.

“Well yes, but I would prefer to know how much magic I’m getting before I destroy the staff.”

Croak. Croak croak.

“Halsin gave me that! Just because you keep losing to him in lanceboard—”

A loooong croak.

“I do not get grumpy when I need to eat!”

Tarina stared.

Now that she knew what to look for, the wizard did seem a little peaky. He was paler than anyone should have been on a hot day like this, even if they were reclusive scholars. There was a thin, sickly sheen of sweat on his forehead and his hand, when it went to give the raven a solid flick, trembled slightly. Frankly, he looked like shit. 

There were so many things to address here that Tarina’s brain felt like a Melf’s acid arrow hurtling at full speed. Who was doing research that esoteric and specific? Who wanted to? Was the wizard using a Speak to Animals spell? He must have been, otherwise Tarina should probably find Brenan and alert them that a crazy was on the loose. Someone crazier than the average wizard, that is. The man just looked tired though, a little sick, which made Tarina wonder if it was contagious, if she should find a healer, if she was even conceivably paid enough to be dealing with any of this.

“I’ve got crackers,” she blurted, wincing slightly when their combined attention turned her way. “In my satchel. In the back. Crackers for... eating? If you’re hungry, I mean.”

The smile the wizard gave her was kind, but the noise the raven made sounded like laughter.

“Thank you,” he said, “but a book will serve me just fine. If you would?” and he waved an imperious hand that clearly said, Get on with it.

Okay, so he was a little bit of an asshole too. He and the raven were meant for each other.

Still, Tarina flew to the back, pulled up their catalogue, and found every reference to staffs, cheery wood, and magical coefficients that an Elixir of Hill Giant Strength would let her carry. It wasn’t her job to question why their patrons wanted the information, only to supply it. 

The wizard spent a while pursuing the volumes she’s brought out, seemingly content to let the other patrons wait than take his load to one of the nearby tables. Tarina shot them an apologetic smile, nodding towards other employees who could help them out. The angle at which she visually negotiated with an ancient, terrifying woman put her in the perfect position to spot the necklace on the raven’s neck.

Tarina blinked, trying to get a closer look without it being obvious that she was doing just that. The necklace—amulet?—was expensive, that much was obvious. A pure gold chain tapered down into a disgustingly massive purple gem. A garnet? Amethyst maybe? Tarina might have known a little more about precious stones if she’d ever been in a position to purchase one. Or even see one up close before now. There were smaller gems too of a similar color and though the raven’s feathers covered many of them, there was no hiding the overall size of the jewelry, nor the contrast against that unnaturally white plumage. Tarina was staring now, caution be damned, because how had she missed that?

Magic, Dum-Dum, her mind supplied. Something simple to deter attention, but not true invisibility. Once you do notice it, it’s obvious what's there. But until you do...

She wasn’t the only one noticing things. With a jerk, Tarina looked up to find the raven staring at her. Hard.

Shit.

“Utterly useless,” the wizard was muttering, flipping through two books at once. His body swayed with the motion and the raven swayed with him, perfectly balanced, its sharp gaze never once leaving Tarina’s face. “Well, I suppose that’s not the worst thing considering I really didn’t want to part with the staff—your feelings on the matter notwithstanding—but that does still leave me in a bit of a predicament. Do you think Tav has anything on hand? I do hate to bother them with this, though I suppose in the grand scheme of things they’d much less rather the city be demolished so soon after saving it...”

Before Tarina could unpack that statement, the raven gave a squawk of what was undoubtedly self-satisfaction. Lifting one foot he extended his leg out from beneath the mound of snowy feathers, revealing a gold bracelet with runes etched down one side.

“Where did you get that?”

What followed was the strangest display of tenderness and fury she'd ever seen, with the wizard swatting at the raven one moment and pressing kisses to his head the next. He bore both with the same, haughty attitude. There were shouts of theft, and gratitude, and more than one muttered, “You insufferable rogue.” The wizard left the small mountain of books in disarray with only the swiftest ‘Thank you’s as he left the shop. However, before the door slammed shut behind him Tarina caught a strange purple light emanating from his chest. 

“Honestly!” the old woman said. Tarina agreed wholeheartedly.

But she couldn’t think about that now. Snatching her list, Tarina began scribbling madly, trying to recreate the amulet before anyone else had need of her.

She really should have gotten that coffee.

***

The Corvid Token.

It took a while, but Tarina hadn’t been hired on pity alone. She found mention of the amulet buried in the appendix of an otherwise boring tome on artifacts that manipulated jump distance. Why anyone would want to influence that was beyond her, but now she was glad people cared about such things.

Prized for its beauty as well as its power, the Corvid Token is an amulet of legend. Said to have first belonged to a favored follower of the Raven Queen, it allegedly gifts the wearer with jump distance, flying speed, and Feather Fall while Polymorphed or in Wild Shape. However, these abilities alone would not be enough to earn the amulet its coveted status. Records show that wearers are able to take on a unique Polymorph while in possession of this token: the Dire Raven. This transformation, far from simply providing the ability to fly and blind opponents, circumvents the usual limitations of a Polymorph, allowing wearers to take on all physical aspects of the raven while simultaneously maintaining their faculties. This transformation also lacks the usual time limit. One diary details a father who gave the amulet to his ill daughter, allowing her to physically circumvent the illness while maintaining her mind and personality. She would remove the amulet once a year on her birthday and otherwise lived a long and purportedly happy life as the town’s beloved corvid. 

Slowly, Tarina shut the book and breathed out a giant, full-body sigh. Though Sorcerous Sundries was open through the night, it only took a skeleton crew to keep it running during the late hours. She’d offered to take this shift precisely so she could do a bit of research without anyone looking over her shoulder, but now...

“Is he sick?” she wondered aloud, idly toying with one of the pages. The raven? The peaky wizard? Customer service was boring; an apprenticeship even more-so until you got to the casting bit of things. Tarina could admit that she’d been using the raven as a distraction, just something fun and mysterious to pass the time. But now that this was on the table, the possibility that the two people she’d been obsessing over for weeks on end—two strangers who didn’t feel much like strangers anymore— might be going through something like that... well, it shouldn’t have come as a shock, but it did. Suddenly, the mystery didn’t feel like a game anymore.

Tarina shut the book with a snap, pasting on an insincere simile when the bell over their door rang. The man who stepped through wore a hooded cloak with his head dipped low—not an uncommon practice in these parts—and she did her best to toe the line between false interest and respect for his privacy when she asked if he was looking for anything in particular.

“Nothing much, darling. Just a story tonight. My handsome, high maintenance husband has a weakness for books and he’s been particularly excitable tonight—though not in any way I’d prefer.” The last was muttered into the hem of his hood as it dropped down, revealing a shock of unnaturally white hair.

Sorcerous Sundries did have a fiction section. It was small, outdated, and very rarely browsed, but they prided themselves on providing their customers with anything and everything the magical community might need, which sometimes translated into a much-needed break. Tarina should have pointed him towards the alcove in the back and returned to quietly chastising herself for treating real people like toys. Instead, something about that hair had her blurting,

“How about a love story?” Once the words were out Tarina couldn’t keep the rest quiet and what followed was a rushed outpouring half-swallowed by a laugh. “I’ve got one about a wizard who hunts down a rare amulet that turns his love into a raven, all to save him from the fatal illness that plagues them both. Or something.”

Tarina winced. The customer was staring at her. Of course he was. She should have been embarrassed at the very least. Or worse: worrying that he’d issue a complaint to Rolan and get her fired. But his appearance had rooted her in place. There was something familiar about that white hair and those piercing, mischievous red eyes.

...and the purple amulet, just peeking out from beneath his cloak.

The man laughed suddenly, revealing fangs that glinted in the candlelight. He sauntered over, placed his elbows on the counter, and gave her a look that was nothing short of gleefully dangerous.

“Oh yes, this encounter will do very nicely. Gale’s going to have kittens! How about a trade, my dear shopkeeper? Your funny little assumption for a far superior version of the story.” He took her hand, stopping just short of kissing it. “I’m Astarion, by the way. We’ve met. Though I’m afraid my far less handsome visage didn’t catch your name…?”

“Tarina.” She couldn’t breathe, could barely think. A vampire. Tarina wasn’t sure if she should be pulling out the snacks, or running for the hills.

“Tarina,” Astarion echoed, flicking his cloak out as he settled in. “Well, Tarina, would you like to hear the real tale? About how the wizard hunted down a rare amulet… to allow his vampire love to walk in the sun? Or fly, rather, if we’re being precise. It's quite disgustingly sweet. ”

Oh. Hells, that was so much better—and suddenly Tarina remembered where she’d stashed the extra wine after their last shop party.

“There’s lots of adventure in it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“But of course.”

“Danger?”

“As only a rogue and his fool can attract.”

“Embarrassing anecdotes about Rolan?”

Astarion paused, then grinned. That was a true smile. Tarina could tell the difference now that she’d seen both and it felt like she’d unexpectedly passed some kind of test.

“Not in this particular story, darling, but I can make time for a few more.”

“There’s no one else coming in tonight,” she said with the certainty of someone who would be announcing the store’s unexpected closure if anyone did show up. “I’ll get the wine and you tell your husband you’ll be back late?

“Early,” Astarion corrected, “but yes. Tara can entertain him for a few hours. The Gods know that tressym owes me.”

Tarina hadn’t a clue who Tara was, but she hoped to find out soon. As she started taking the stairs two at a time, she caught the unmistakable sound of wings in the store’s silence before the bell on the door rang again.

She smiled to herself. Alright. Working here wasn’t all bad. Two months down. One mystery solved.

One friend gained. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Change | Changing

Basically I love all of your Roman angst especially the one where Roman and Logan go to the rage room because you captured their dynamic so well and in a way that a lot of other writers don’t. So! On that note! What if Logan is thinking about how Roman always seems to brace himself before talking to Patton, and Roman tells him that their relationship isn’t as bubbly as it seems (because I always see Royality referred to as the sunshine couple haha). Specifically how Patton interacts with Remus, or how he (and Janus) react to Roman trying to come out, etc. – anon

Ok ok ok, so I know you basically just posted Change, but I’m already obsessed.. Can I perhaps request a part 2 where Roman struggles with asking for help(taking care of himself, working on projects, etc) and the others try their best(and maybe make mistakes) to help him? – anon

okay ik it’s been less than a day, and i don’t know if you’re still taking requests, but i would LOVE to see a part two to change. it was so touching to me, and i just want to see roman comforted so bad. thank you and no pressure !! – anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: internalized homophobia, bullying, implied/referenced abuse

Pairings: none

Word Count: 7329

Roman is over the top, bombastic, and enthusiastic. He is prone to fits of passion and emotional outbursts. Such is the nature of Creativity. But the others...don't like that. They aren't exactly ambiguous about it either. Or, Roman struggles to walk the line between being himself and being something the others can tolerate. It gets far worse before it gets any better. But it does get a little better.

"Hey, Princey?"

Roman nearly snaps his pencil in half as he shoves the notebook into the couch cushions.

"Whoa," Virgil mutters, holding his hands up as Roman whips his head around to look at him, "easy, Princey, it's just me."

He doesn't move.

"Right, fuck." He takes a deep breath and makes an effort to soften his expression. "Uh, hi, Roman. I was, uh, what're you doing?"

"Nothing."

There's a soft popping sound and Janus appears, turning to look at him. He swallows heavily and pushes the notebook further into the bowels of the couch. Several expressions flicker across Janus's face before he settles on a deep sigh. "Good morning, Roman."

"Hi."

"Would you like to explain what's going on?"

"N-no." His heart thuds in his ears. The pencil groans in his hands. "I didn't do anything."

"I'm not saying you did, sweetie."

"I really don't think he did, J, I just, uh, I spooked him."

"I can see that."

They're doing the thing where they talk about him like he's not here. As much as it makes his skin crawl, it does mean he has a better chance of slipping away. At least he would if they both weren't looking at him like that.

"Did you need me to do something, Virgil?"

"What? Oh, uh, no, Princey, I, uh…" He scratches the back of his head. "I just, um…shit."

Janus looks between the two of them, toying with a seam at the end of his glove. Before Roman can summon up the courage to say something, anything, even a lie that Janus might not call him out on, he hears footsteps on the stairs.

"Oh, well, this is a party, isn't it?" Patton's voice floats into the room. "What're we doing?"

The sight of Logan appearing behind him is enough to snap the rubber band in Roman's chest. He snatches the other notebook from the coffee table and sinks into his room, shoving a chair underneath the door handle and yanking open the door to his closet, huddling in the dark with his precious cargo clutched to his chest. His breaths ring out in the dark, cramped space and it soon grows muggy and stuffy from the force of it. The notebooks wheeze in his grip. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to the spiral until he's sure it's left a mark on his forehead.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Roman, letting himself give into those urges again. Why did he run away? Now they're all going to be talking about him again, like he's still something they have to work on, not like he's a person with needs and boundaries that they just keep pushing in ways that he can't deal with. Not now, not like this, not when he's holding what's basically his heart in his hands and they're right there looking at it. If he were working on Thomas's things, it'd be different, because he knows how to get flayed for those, he has practice with that, but not with this.

Well, Roman, he hears Logan's voice in the back of his head say, if you didn't want anyone to know about it or ask about it, you wouldn't have been working on it in a public space.

Maybe you all could fuck off and leave me be and let me do whatever I want, how about that? But he won't say that, even though he wants to, because they would never let him get away with being angry out loud like that. Not Roman, not like that, not about this. So he ran because it was easier in the short term even though he knows, he knows they're going to rip him to shreds about it later.

***

He was right.

"We just want to understand, kiddo," Patton's saying, like Virgil can't hear the way Roman's trying not to heave his lungs out of his throat, "it—I understand that it made you feel upset when Virgil asked you what you were doing, but do you get why it was a little hurtful that you just ran away without answering him at all?"

He just nods silently. He really didn't mean to hurt Virgil, but honestly Virgil wasn't really the problem. It was the fact that everyone else came at once and they were all standing around him and he was curled up on the couch with his hands shoved into the cushions like they could hide his soul from them because he didn't want to be hurt and it wasn't ready to breathe around someone that wasn't him.

"Roman? Kiddo? Are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

He swallows. This is a trap. It almost always is. "I was working. Virgil startled me. I…I lied about what I was doing and Janus appeared."

"Why did you lie?"

"Because he was scared, Pat," Virgil breaks in. Patton looks away for a second and Roman can breathe again. "He lied because he was scared. Honestly, I think if any of us had spooked him and asked what he was doing I would've gotten summoned because he was scared."

"Oh." Patton looks back at him. "I…I wish you wouldn't be scared of us, kiddo."

Do you think I want to be scared of you? Do you think I'm doing this on purpose? Do you think that when I woke up this morning I went 'yeah, I'm gonna be so scared of the people who are supposed to be my family that I'm gonna run away whenever they so much as talk to me?' Is that what you think is going on?

But Roman can't say that, so he just bows his head and tries not to let Patton see the anger that escapes to flicker over his face.

"Can you tell us what it was now? Now that you know Virgil's not going to hurt you or anything?"

"I didn't think he was going to hurt me."

"That's good! He's not gonna do it now either, and neither am I."

"I know."

Patton grins and raises his eyebrows like he's waiting for something. He is. He's waiting for Roman to tell him what he was working on. Behind him, he can see Virgil making a face.

"You don't have to tell us, Princey. It's cool. I was, uh, I was just looking for something to talk about. We, um, there's a new map on the co-op game that I was gonna tell you about."

"Oh, that sounds fun!" Patton gestures between them. "Why don't you two go play it?"

"Now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Uh, sure, Princey, if you're up for it. We can, uh, we can go do it in the game room."

"…sure."

"That'll be fun. You two kiddos can tell us all about it at dinner." Patton grins and reaches out to pat Roman on the shoulder and Roman manages to make himself stand still for it. "Have a good time, okay?"

Roman nods wordlessly as he sinks out with Virgil. They appear in the corner of the library with bean bags and the game stuff. Virgil scratches the back of his head.

"I, uh, I'm sorry, Princey. I really didn't mean to make this such a big deal. We don't have to play right now if you don't want to."

"It's fine. It's not your fault. And I want to play."

"You sure? I can always tell Pat we tried and then changed our minds—"

"No. Let's play."

Virgil still eyes him as he sets it up, as if he could tell better than Roman if he really has the capacity to do something like this right now, but eventually they both just sit down and boot the game and play the new map.

It's fun. The mechanics are still frustrating when they don't work right. The graphics are good and the art style still makes Roman think of that one place in the Imagination where the rocks sit very close together on the coast and the water glimmers from the cracks in between them when the waves wash up near the grass. Virgil doesn't try to talk about anything other than the game while they play. In the pit of his stomach, slowly growing, is the certainty that he's going to be asked about this later and he's going to have to talk about it.

"Hey," Virgil says quietly when they're waiting for a loading screen to finish, "uh, I don't wanna freak you out again or anything, but I can…I can tell you're worrying about something right now."

"It's fine."

A pause as the Imagination ripples. Janus can't detect any lies in here, which means he can't be summoned because of one, and technically it wasn't a lie. Roman is fine right now. Virgil coughs into his hand.

"Just letting you know that if you want to talk or have me listen to stuff, I will."

"Thanks."

The screen finishes loading and they keep playing.

***

There are many castles in the Imagination, not just the main fairytale one near the big double door entrance and Remus's tall black tower on his side. One of them, nestled in the dip of the mountains near the edge of the crystal lake is an expanse of soft grey stone, almost perpetually lit by lavender skies and a pale pink moon. The underwater caverns are nearby, after all, and due to the way the clouds form from the heat during the day, they only clear at night when the air cools off. Long gardens frame the clear streams that cover the castle's grounds, filled with flowering trees and small ornamental shrubs. The evening finds Roman tending carefully to one of the small ponds near the northern end of the walking paths, carefully fishing out the fallen twigs and weeds. Moonlight shimmers off the surface as the bag at his side slowly fills. The cool water is a mercy on his hands, still tingling and achy from the day before.

Logan gave them all a presentation on how emotions can manifest physically in the body once. Virgil talked about how Thomas holds his stress in certain parts of himself and Patton added how sometimes he'll get sore when Thomas is feeling a lot. Roman didn't bring up the fact that he gets bruised as the Ego too, because they would've made jokes about it—and given him more bruises—but he thought about it a lot in the few days afterwards because he needed a way to make the bruises go away without the others noticing them.

As he dips his hand into the water again, he lets his breathing get a little shaky as the water laps at his knuckles and palm. It's not like a burn, where the skin is hot and achy and throbbing, but it's the same sort of heat. Where he's just sort of hurting and it makes him hot and gross and he just wants it out of him. He's wearing short sleeves tonight, so he doesn't feel too bad about dipping his arm in all the way to the elbow, letting the water wash the vulnerable skin on the underside of his forearm. The sensation of something just there leaves him breathless for a moment, before it shudders out of him again. It laps against the vein in the crook of his elbow and his eyes grow heavy for a moment. A warm breeze blows over the back of his neck and he closes his eyes. The juxtaposition between the warm and cold parts of him make it a little easier to clench and unclench his fingers.

He opens his eyes again. As he moves his arm gently back and forth, the reflection of the moon distorts and coalesces, breaking apart and reforming as easily as, well, as water flowing over stones. He does it a few more times, just enjoying the way the water feels, before he pulls his arm out and dries it on his shirt. He reaches for another fallen twig and puts it in the bag.

The others don't know about this castle. They don't know about this dip in the mountains, they don't know about this garden, they don't know about this pond.

He switches the bag to his other side and dips his other arm in the cool water.

***

"Well, I think that's everything I have," Logan says, adjusting his glasses, "is there anything else?"

"Nope!" Remus bounces on the balls of his feet. "Can't wait to get started!"

"Let's hear from everyone else, Remus, before we do that, but I love your enthusiasm."

"Aw, thanks, Pat-Pat."

Patton giggles and glances at the others. Virgil shrugs and Janus makes a slightly offhand waving gesture. Logan looks at Roman who quickly looks down at the sheet of notes in front of him. He tries to read over them again but the letter swim until the page just looks like it's covered in squiggles.

"Roman? You okay, kiddo?"

"Yes."

Janus doesn't quite hiss, but he must do something to signal to Patton and Logan that he's lying. "Roman, if you've got a question, you can ask it."

Trap. Trap. That is a trap and I do not want to be scolded right now. "I'm just thinking about it. You know, I—these are things that I'm gonna do so I'm just…thinking."

"You just gave these to us," Remus adds and Roman leans into him without thinking about it, "you gotta let the brain juices brain juice for a bit before we're gonna have much of anything."

"But you just said you couldn't wait to get started?"

"Yeah, me, Pat, 'cause that's how my brain juices juice. I gotta go start throwing stuff at walls. Ro's not like me, Ro's like Ro. So you gotta let him be like Ro."

"I see," Patton says in the indulgent-not-indulgent tone that always makes Roman's ears ring, "well—"

"How about this: I have a few other things I need to go and work on," Logan says, "and then if Roman has anything he'd like to talk about, he can come and find me later?"

"Yes," Roman blurts out before anyone else can say anything, "yeah, that'd be—that'd be good, thanks, Logan."

"Of course. Come knock on my door whenever you'd like, alright?"

"Great, that's all settled!" Remus's hand is warm and solid on his shoulder. "Bye!"

He sinks them out and into Roman's room, quickly wrapping his arm around Roman's waist as they sit heavily on the ground. Roman's breath catches slightly in his throat and he quickly tosses the notes onto his desk before he can mess them up. That awful curdling feeling in his stomach wriggles and writhes and Remus pulls him to his chest.

"Hey, hey, Ro, it's over now. It's over now, we're in your room, it's just me."

Roman squeezes his eyes shut and turns to burrow into Remus's hold. Remus lets him do it without complaint. He won't get in trouble for being a mess around Remus. Remus won't care. Remus will be happy if he's being a mess because then it means he's not holding it in and hurting himself and Remus can actually help him. He won't be mad if Roman's messy or upset right now. He stood up for Roman when it was getting bad again. He got the others to leave him alone at least for long enough that they could get out. But isn't that running? Didn't Roman just make Remus help him run away? Isn't that just as bad as him running away by himself? Is he going to be in trouble for that too?

"Hey, Roro," comes Remus's voice in his ear, "stay with me. Come give me a cuddle, okay? Just come here, stay right here with me, everything's over now, it's just you and me and I want you to cuddle me because it'll make us both feel better."

Roman does. He wraps his arms around Remus and lets Remus topple them to the floor and squish out all the parts that are making his stomach feel like it's trying to tie itself into knots. His chest feels all achy again and he's so frustrated, because he doesn't want to be like this, he didn't use to be like this, but now it's like he can't go through two conversations without having to run away.

Remus is warm. Remus is solid and warm and safe and he's right here and he's not going anywhere. He can be okay with that for a little while. The longer he sits with this awful shit in his stomach the worse it's going to be when he eventually has to deal with it because his body is stupid like that sometimes and he hates it, he hates everything about it, but right now he has Remus here to love and he'd rather spend that time cuddling his brother than hating the fact that he's so fucking fragile that he can't even talk about things anymore.

Remus must summon some sort of blanket because there's more weight on top of him now and he actually manages to let out a breath when he feels it. He peeks out from Remus's shoulder and sees a version of their old blanket forts covering them. Sheets make the light into pretty colors and there's a gentle breeze through one end. There are blankets covering them, enough to make Roman feel soft and small in the way that you only feel when you're still too young and the bed feels like an ocean and the blankets are comforting creatures that just want to hold and protect you. Remus shuffles down a little to wrap his arms more securely around Roman and oh, he feels—it's—he's—

"Stay here with me for a little," Remus murmurs, pressing his cheek against Roman's, "we're safe in here, okay? Can we do that?"

Roman nods. He tucks his nose back into the crook of Remus's neck and just breathes.

***

He texts Logan. He doesn't want to risk hanging out in the hallway for longer than necessary and if he has to walk there and walk back he doesn't need the added weight of failing to do something as simple as visit someone. Logan texts back right away that he's welcome to come over. He can't decide whether that's a good thing or not and so, before he can overthink it, he texts again asking if he can sink in.

It takes Logan a moment longer to say he can and Roman breathes a sigh of relief. He gathers up his stuff and sinks carefully into Logan's room, appearing just by the door. Logan looks up from his desk and smiles, actually smiles, getting up to go over to him.

"Roman," he says, and fuck, he's talking in that sweet soft voice again, "thank you for coming."

"Thanks for letting me sink in."

"Of course." He motions toward the desk and the second chair. Roman sits down, carefully keeping everything in his lap. "What questions can I answer for you?"

"The, um, they're just small questions, sorry. I just—I was looking over the bit you said about the pacing that you guys wanted and I'm—I don't think I get…it."

"Alright. Let me just pull up my notes…there. Okay, the pacing—can I ask what it is you don't get about it?"

"Maybe you can—sorry, can you just…go over it? Maybe I took my notes wrong."

Something flickers across Logan's expression but he nods and starts going over it. Roman follows along with his notes and sure enough, he hasn't necessarily missed anything, but it feels like there's a piece of the puzzle that Logan can see that he just can't find. When Logan finishes, he bites his lip for a long moment before he glances up. A furrow forms between Logan's brows when he sees what Roman's doing but he doesn't comment on it.

"I just—I'm sorry, I promise I'm paying attention—"

"I know you are, Roman, you don't need to apologize." When Roman hesitates, Logan adjusts his tie and leans a bit closer. "I'm not going to be angry at you, Roman, I give you my word. You came here to ask questions, I am here to work with you to find answers. You are not doing something wrong, I won't be angry, you needn't apologize for anything."

Roman just stares at him. Actually stares, because who the fuck is this and what did they do with Logan? As if he could hear the thought, Logan smiles ruefully and takes off his glasses to clean them.

"What Remus said, about letting you work through things in the way you need to, something in it resonated with me. I suppose I've been—no, I have been taking you for granted in the past with these projects, or at the very least not appreciating the extent of what you do. I'm making an effort to be better about it."

"Oh."

"Is…I know you've only been here for a few minutes, but is it working at all?"

"Yeah. This is…nice. I like being able to talk to you."

Logan smiles. He actually smiles at him and fuck, Roman's not going to start crying right now. He's not gonna. "I like talking to you as well, Roman."

He swallows heavily and looks back down at the notes. "I think I'm confused as to why you've decided to go with this structure. It feels…I don't know how to describe it, but it doesn't—with the way it's been described to me, it feels like it's uneven."

"Uneven how, if you wouldn't mind explaining further?"

"Like—if you're loading passengers onto a train, it kind of feels like you're putting a lot of people in the first car, and then like, two or three in the next few, and then everyone else in the back cars. Does that—I'm sorry, that probably doesn't make any sense at all."

"No, no, I believe I understand. You think the distribution of events is off, correct? The flow of it stagnates in some places and moves too quickly for the audience in others?"

"Yeah."

"What would you suggest, then, to improve it?" Now Roman well and truly stares at him, so much so that he chuckles. "What?"

"You're asking me?"

"You are Creativity," he says, still in that sweet and gentle voice, "I daresay you have far more experience and knowledge of how to do something like this than I do."

Roman looks back down at the notes. Now that this isn't a to-do list anymore, it's a sandbox that he actually gets to play in, he doesn't—he can't—he doesn't know the answer anymore. He doesn't know what he's going to do. Is he going to do something? "C-can I—I need time."

"Of course. I would expect nothing less. Will you let me know if you need a sounding board or when you've got something you think is workable?" He nods. "Lovely."

It takes a few more moments of them sitting there in silence for Roman to realize Logan isn't going to tell him to leave.

"Do you want me to go?"

"If you want to, I've no means to keep you here. I also understand the appeal of co-working in a space, so if you'd like to, you can."

"Wait—you'd let me—but I—"

Logan tilts his head slightly when Roman's words die in his throat. After another moment, he slowly reaches out and runs his hand through Roman's hair, cupping the side of his face. Roman's eyes flutter shut at the contact, breathing in the smell of old books and ink as Logan just holds him. He'd done this when Roman was having a panic attack too; he just touched his cheek and the shock of it interrupted the worst of the feedback loop and then he'd just sat there, letting Roman rest his head in his hand and breathe. It had been so small, it shouldn't have reached into Roman's chest the way it did, but it was a small thing of just I'm here, I'll be here with you for a moment, that it took his breath away.

It takes his breath away again now, Logan's hand just there, supporting his head. After a moment, he hears the creak of a chair and the grip shifts slightly, then another hand cards through his hair and he opens his eyes to see Logan standing over him.

"I am sorry," he whispers, "that I have hurt you to the point where you believe me to be an authority figure out to get you. I am truly sorry, little one. Yes, you can work in here with me if you like. Yes, you can ask questions and take the time you need to work on things at your own pace. I will not be angry, I will not be upset, I give you my word."

"You were so mean," Roman nearly whimpers back.

"I know, little one, I'm sorry. I was cruel and arrogant and you didn't deserve any of it. I falsely believed that I could…control you, as horrible as that is to say out loud, that I could in some way improve Thomas's efficiency by being so rigorous and strict." He crouches down so Roman doesn't have to look up anymore. "But that's not true, and all I've done instead is cause you pain and strife. So I'm not going to be like that anymore."

"You're gonna be nice."

"Yes, exactly, little one. I'm going to be nice." He smiles and strokes Roman's cheek. "I like being nice to you."

"I like when you're—when you're nice too."

"Then this should work out splendidly."

***

"Logan tells me you've been making good progress with the script," Patton says during a pause in the dinner conversation and Roman's hand twitches under the table.

"It's going okay."

There's another long pause before Patton laughs. It's not a very happy laugh. "Are you going to tell us anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like maybe what about it is going well? Are there things that you didn't expect? Are there things you need help with?"

Roman swallows some water and jams his hand between his leg and the chair. "There's not a lot to talk about. It's just…going."

"You used to be so enthusiastic about talking about your work, kiddo."

"Shit happens, Pat-Pat," Remus grins, "nuts and bolts and squids and ink and all that."

"Yeah, that's how I remember the saying going too."

"Language, Remus, and besides, like you said, your process is different from Roman's. Maybe it's not like that for him."

Roman bites his lip and puts more food in his mouth. Patton won't ask him things when he's actively eating. Across the table, he glimpses Virgil and Janus sharing a look and then Virgil's kicking Remus under the table.

"Hey!"

"You deserve it for reminding me about the time you decided to turn our couch into a giant octopus."

"But that was fun!"

"Having hickies the size of basketballs on my ass for three weeks was not fun, Remus, Thomas couldn't sit down on a sofa for like, a month after that."

"Not to mention the fact that the bear trap was left out in Virgil's hallway."

"Yeah—wait, it was what?" Janus blinks innocently and Virgil narrows his eyes. "You asshole, you said that you didn't know where it was!"

"Did I say that?"

"Don't get cute right now, J."

"Aww, you think I'm cute?"

The conversation quickly derails into Dark Side hijinks and Roman slips gratefully into the background. He sneaks a glance at Patton just to check that he's no longer about to be put on the spot and sees him alternating between bemusement and exasperation. He's safe for now. He goes back to eating and completely misses the concerned look Logan shoots him about halfway through dessert.

***

"Roman," Logan says one evening when the two of them are alone in the living room, "I'd like to go on one of those walks in the Imagination with you again. Would that be alright?"

"Like—the ones on the path near the flower fields?"

"Yes, there. That would be perfect."

"Um, okay. Do you want to go now?"

"If that suits you. There's still an hour or so before movie night officially starts."

"Sure."

Logan smiles and the two of them go up to the Imagination's double doors. Roman pushes them open and late-afternoon sunlight shines over rolling hills of blooming flowers, a single dirt path framed by elegant wooden fences tracing through the sweeps and contours of the valley. Logan carefully takes one of his hands and starts to walk, letting Roman decide the pace. A gentle breeze wafts the aroma of the new blooms through the air. Clouds tinged with orange and pale pink drift across the sky. The grass rustles and their feet crunch lightly along the path.

They walk past a tree growing atop one of the hills and Logan takes a deep breath.

"Little one?"

"Mhm?"

"I have a question for you that you needn't answer."

"Okay?"

"I've noticed that you…when Patton talks to you," Logan begins and Roman's hand twitches. He pauses, taking the hand in both of his and pressing his lips to it. "Precisely."

Roman swallows. "You want to know why?"

"If you would be comfortable telling me, yes."

He's quiet for a long while. Logan doesn't push. They walk up and down a few more hills before he sighs. Logan guides him over to a bench and they sit in the warm silence together.

"Do you…I don't know if you remember this," Roman says quietly, "when Thomas was struggling with being gay."

"I remember the time frame, yes."

"Did you know that was the last time Janus and Patton agreed on something before the, um, before they all came back?"

"I suppose I knew it in an abstract way, or at least it was something I knew to be true, but I didn't—no, I didn't know that was the last time."

He falls quiet again. The prickle along his skin is back. The ache in his chest blooms anew. Old wounds press against the inflamed nerves hidden under layers and layers of scar tissue. He feels heavy.

"They were so sure they were right."

"That they were right?"

"Yeah."

***

"You know how this goes, Roman," Patton says, his voice as hard as a ruler smacking against Roman's knuckles, "the prince falls in love with the princess. He saves her, they get married, happily ever after. You know better than to say something stupid like that."

"But it's not stupid! It's not—"

"Roman." Now Janus looks at him with that falsely pitying condescension. "You want to tell good stories, right? You want to tell stories that people will like, that they'll praise you for, right? You want to be good for the people you're telling stories for, don't you?"

"Well…"

"You know how to be good." Patton folds his arms. "You'll tell the right stories. You will, won't you?"

Roman's throat prickles. He twists his hands into the cover of his notebook. Janus raises an eyebrow, reaching out to snatch it from him. He yelps, scrabbling to get it back, but more arms hold him back as Janus flips through it. His eyebrow keeps raising higher.

"Well, well, well. Looks as though our little prince isn't as honorable as he claims to be."

Hot, thick shame bubbles up in his mouth. Patton holds his hand out and Roman tries to lunge for the book but Janus squeezes his side, making him collapse into the rest of his hands. Patton turns the pages and each one feels like it's ripping his skin off. He doesn't stop thrashing, not until Janus snaps at him to be still. Patton's mouth hardens into a thin line and he sighs like he's disappointed.

He takes the book and drops it into the trash can.

"No! Give it back, it's mine, it's not yours, you can't do that."

"Stop."

Roman grits his teeth and yanks against Janus's grip because Janus is grabbing him and it hurts and it's not fair that he's getting hurt when he didn't even do anything wrong. Patton steps close enough that Roman can't avoid looking at him and just waits for Roman to tire himself out.

"Apologize."

"What? No, I'm not going to apologize! I didn't do anything wrong! You're the ones who hurt me and stole my stuff!"

"If you're so sure you didn't do anything wrong, then why did you try and hide the notebook?" He takes a step closer when Roman doesn't say anything. "Why did you try to lie to us? Why wouldn't you tell us what you were making? You knew it was wrong, Roman, you knew it all along and you did it anyway because you didn't care. You didn't care that it was hurting us, hurting Thomas. And you did it anyway. Do you know what that means?"

There's a lump in his throat.

"That makes you selfish, Roman. That makes you very, very selfish. That's not very prince-like, is it?"

"…no."

"I asked you a question."

"No."

Patton's quiet for a moment. Then: "there won't be any daydreams for Thomas until the end of the month."

Roman's head jerks up. "What? You can't do that!"

"Thomas needs to have good dreams. Daydreams are already a privilege, as Logan said. If you can't be trusted to give Thomas good dreams, you don't get the reward of being allowed to daydream."

"But that's not fair!"

Patton raises an eyebrow. "Do you think you've behaved in a way that deserves a reward? Or a privilege? Have you been good?"

"Don't lie," Janus sings, still tugging on his arms and poking him in the side, "I'll know if you lie."

"Roman, I asked you a question."

Roman doesn't say anything. Janus pokes him again. He doesn't say anything. He gets poked again.

"Stop poking me!" He yanks his arm away from Janus's grip. "Let me go! You're being mean!"

"My, my, Roman, what a temper you have. We've been talking using our inside voices, why are you shouting?"

"He's right, Roman."

"What do you mean he's right? He was poking me!"

"And that gives you the right to shout at both of us?" Patton's voice makes Roman shrivel up. He sighs again and it hurts. "I'm disappointed in you, Roman. I thought you'd know better by now."

"Maybe I do know better. You're not Romance, you're not Creativity, what if I know better than you do?"

Patton raises his eyebrows.

The room gets cold.

Janus chuckles in the background as Roman gets smaller and smaller and smaller—

***

Roman blinks. He thinks about the story he'd told himself when he was younger to fall asleep faster, about the two boys in the village who went to go explore a nearby forest and fell in love. He thinks about the notebook thrown in a trashcan that he never saw again. He thinks about the bruise on his side and the locks on the Imagination that burned his fingers whenever he tried to touch them.

He thinks about hearing Remus cackling joyfully on the other side and wondering why he had to be good when Remus didn't just to enjoy being himself.

He thinks about feeling like a puppet. He thinks about strings and wooden handles and smiling when it hurt and talking with words that weren't from his own mouth. He thinks about tears and sniffles and hissed whispers and too-red noses. He thinks about aching hands and twisted stomachs and chests that wouldn't stop feeling like someone's hand was in there, rummaging around. He thinks about standing very still as someone else talked about something he tried to talk about years ago, he thinks about the rage building up on the underside of his tongue, he thinks about the phantom sting across his knuckles from when someone ordered him to be good and apologize.

He thinks about how much it hurts and how scared it makes him.

He hasn't said any of this to Logan. He just said that they were so certain they were right and Logan seemed to understand what he meant. He let Logan pull him in for a hug and promise that he would try and help in any way he could. He knows Logan's been watching them interact now, that Logan's been seeing how scared he is whenever Patton tries to make him talk about something he doesn't want to. He knows Logan's been talking to him quietly and gently and being nice and it helps. It does.

But he knows it can't last forever.

***

It doesn't.

***

The wolf is the one to find him. He's tucked deep into a crevice in the mountainside, the wind whipping across the rock. He lost feeling in his fingers long ago. The shadow falls over him and he barely blinks. A nose the size of his chest nudges his head and jaws that could swallow houses part to take him in between sharp teeth.

He's carried back to the safety of the forest, laid on his side as the wolf laps at his numb, scraped limbs, just this side of too rough. He stares into the darkness with salt crusted at the corners of his eyes. The wolf huffs and curls around him, blowing warm air over his freezing body before lifting his nose to let out a long, almost mournful howl.

Wings. A distant cry. The ground shakes.

Snuffling scales and warmth, true warmth. A tail wrapping around him as another snout nudges its way into his chest. His dragon rumbles as the wolf resettles, the two wrapping themselves about him as though he were nothing but a little mouse, shivering and scared in the too-big world.

***

"Hey, Princey," Virgil says quietly as Roman steps through the door, the wolf nudging him all the way through, "don't worry, we're not here to yell at you or anything, we, uh, we wanna help."

Roman eyes him warily, hardly daring to look at Janus for too long.

"Remus and Logan are still talking with Patton. They're not gonna be done for a while. We're here to help you, okay? That's it." Roman doesn't move. "We can—shit, Princey, you're bleeding."

He looks down. Oh. So he is. He hears a shuffling and jerks his head back up to see Virgil holding a first aid kit. He gestures wordlessly between it and Roman and after a very, very long moment, Roman nods.

"Okay. I'm gonna come over and just clean it, okay?" Roman nods. "Thanks. I'm gonna…start moving now."

Janus doesn't move an inch, his concerned expression remaining fixed on Roman's arm until Virgil pronounces it clean. Then, and only then, does he look up to meet Roman's gaze and stand. Roman flinches, Virgil steadying him, and Janus stops. Slowly, deliberately, he takes off his gloves—all of them, all six hands, and takes a step forward. Roman's breathing picks up and Virgil squeezes his shoulder.

"I won't let him hurt you," he says softly, and Janus doesn't even react. Instead, he keeps coming closer. "Just—it's okay, Roman. He's here to help too."

Janus stops right in front of him and—oh. One hand fits around the back of his neck, another around his shoulders, one around his waist—oh, no—

"Oh, sweetie," he hears distantly as his knees buckle, "you poor thing, shh, shh, hush now, it's going to be okay."

His mind goes haywire. Janus doesn't do this, not with him, not like this. Janus isn't this gentle, this tender, this kind, whatever you want to call it. There are so many hands rubbing his back, running fingers up and down, or just holding him, there's a soft voice in his ear and he's lying against something solid and safe. There are kisses on his temples, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, he's shaking, he's so scared.

"I don't know what to do," he hears distantly, "he's—Virgil, what do I do?"

"He's scared shitless, J, he doesn't know what's going on."

"I know, I know, I just—" another kiss, a harder one, pressed right to the crown of his head— "oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, you've been so brave and so strong, my sweet prince…my sweet, sweet prince…"

Roman's hands twitch. He touches the fabric of Janus's cloak and holds a single fold between his fingers.

"Yes, yes, that's it, it's okay, you can hold onto me. I've got you, you see? I've got you and you're safe and everything's okay. You're okay, you're safe, I'm going to look after you from now on, I promise. It's okay, sweetie, oh, you've been so brave…"

"…Janus?"

"Yes, sweetie? What is it, what do you need?"

"Are…are you mad at me?"

He feels Janus's chest stutter against his own. "No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong, you're so good."

"G-good?"

"Yes, sweetie, you're so good. You've been so good, it's okay, you're safe now, you're going to be just fine, I'm going to help look after you, and so will Virgil and Remus and Logan—we're all looking after you right now, okay? It's okay."

…well, fuck.

***

He's not left alone with Patton for a while after that. Remus sticks closely by his side for any meetings, Virgil's always lurking in a room somewhere wherever Roman is, and Logan texts him throughout the day with random little facts and interesting things he's learned. It doesn't feel bad, per se, to have all of them looking out for him like this, but it doesn't feel good either.

Patton does explain that what he's been trying to do is encourage some of Roman's old habits—talking about his stuff, sharing his opinions—but he didn't know that it was making Roman so scared. He's not thrilled about the fact that Roman's so scared of him, but hey, neither is Roman. They manage to find a way to coexist that doesn't involve the others acting like a barrier between them, but it isn't easy.

He spends more time in the Imagination with the others, showing them the places that he and Remus built when they were younger. They play games and watch movies and spend time together outside of working on things.

Then there's a movie night where only Patton and Roman show up early. It's…not easy.

But then Patton makes a joke that only he and Roman knew and the rest of them arrive downstairs to hear the two of them laughing their heads off.

And…yeah, maybe things aren't beyond fixing after all.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl