#wayward pajama party

[pinkbolts]

> @roseitra   …  like thee starter.

11:26pm  &  it  seemed  the  giggled  &  screams  just  stopped  in  this  sector  of  the  titan  tower.     appeared  to  be  in  slumber  party  of  sorts  in  HAUS  PINK,  as  messy  as  can  be.   opened  &  unopened  food  discarded  on  nearly  ever  surface,   blankets  awry,   previous  arts  &  crafts  from  hours  prior,   long  forgotten;     &  inside  a  conversation  -  pit,   sat  two  girls   ——   well   ——  starfire  sat,   rosetta  stood.     star,   arms  crossed  in  an  a  rather  worried  fashion,   inconspicuous  whisper  harrowed  from  stardust—in—flesh,     “    i  don’t  think  that’s  a  good  idea,   rosey...   “     idea  in  question?    late  night  prowl,   looking  for  trouble.   rosetta  was  rather…   new  to  the  titans,   better  yet…   one  could  even  say  she  hadn’t  really  had  a  first  day  on  the  job.   star  didn’t  share  that  sentiment.     she  believed  in  her  friend     …     (   sometimes  maybe  a  little  too  much  by  the  standards  of  others   )   but  that  was  neither  here  nor  there.   this,   however,   she  deemed  a  different  circumstance.

there’s  another  warning,   still  impossibly  kind,   “   we  usually  work  together.   as  a  team.   it  will  *   not  make  a  good  impression  on  the  team  to  see  you  doing  the  opposite…   “    it  appeared  koriand’r  was  more  worried  about  the  flames’  reputation  than  she  was.   that  was…    familiar.   a  lost  cause,   is  what  her  sister  might’ve  referred  to  this  as  but..   she  was  entirely  too  desperate  at  not  allowing  a  friend  to  make  a  mistake  &  thus…    making  some  of  her  own.   

she  was  pulling  for  excuses  after  excuses…   trying  to  make  sure  the  new  titan  didn’t  wander  off.   frantically  eyes  dared  around  the  room,   plucking  every  little  detail  apart  until  landing  on  wayward  friend.   oh!   yeah,   that’s  right!   “   you  are  not  even  dressed,   and…   and  it’s  11pm!   “  there  was  no  way  she  could  fight  crime  in  pajamas!   that  was  uncalled  for!   “   we  cannot  go  out!   we  should  rest!    “    starfire  herself  was  nowhere  near  tired,   she  never  truly  was..   but  for  the  sake  of  keeping  her  in  the  comfort  of  her  living  quarters,   she’d  play  the  part.   deep,   deep,   deeeeeeep  yawn,   body  stretched  &  arms  above  her  head  like  she  was  due  for  hibernation  of  the  century;   she’d  even  add  lil’  tears  &  the  mild  smacking  of  lips  to  completely  sell  her  performance!

[honeypiehotchner]

dancing on my own -- part five

I ironically saw @msimpala67 ‘s ask about this part when I came online to post it. So hello!!

I’m not going to say Rob is a little bit of a jerk because I understand where he is coming from, but he is a little bit of a jerk in this one. It’ll be resolved, don’t worry.

Also! I have to run to school, so I don’t have the time right now to take out the paragraph indents (I write in a word doc and then copy and paste because I’m old school), so if they still show up, apologies in advance.

Words: 1,715

Summary: One year later, Sarah is back from rehab and doing much better. With her new job filming in her hometown and her little sister hooked on the show, Sarah decides to attend the convention in Atlanta -- her first appearance at a convention since she went into rehab. Rob is...less happy than expected that she has returned.

Warnings: angst, nothing else really, besides bad writing (I hate how this part reads lol).

~~~

Briana is the first person I call when I let my manager know I’m going to attend the Supernatural convention this weekend. It’s in Atlanta, where my job is again, so I might as well.

           I was in rehab for a while after my last convention. After a month, I was able to move to an out-patient program and eventually therapy twice a week. Now, with therapy once a week, I’m working again, this time on another movie filming right in my hometown of Stockbridge, Georgia. Most of our locations have been at places my friends and I used to hang out during high school, and most of those places are right down the street from my parent’s house.

           I’ve been staying with my parents for the time being as well, something my sister has been loving a little more than she’s leading on. She’s still in high school, though, so I hardly see her. Half of that is because I work during the day sometimes, but most of the time I am working half into the night or early morning.

           The convention this weekend is in the city and my sister – Anna – who is now hooked on the show has decided she wants to come with me. Well, we’re compromising. She’s coming to the convention with my parents, but since it’s only 20 minutes from the house, they’re not going to bother with a hotel room. I would let her stay in mine, but my schedule is a little more hectic and earlier than I think she wants.

           But back to Briana, I have to bring the phone away from my ear when I tell her because the scream she lets out is deafening.

           “I knew you’d be excited, but I didn’t think you’d be that excited,” I tease.

           “I’m so excited!” She nearly screams. “What made you decide?”

           I shrug, sitting down on my bed. “It’s twenty minutes from where I’m filming, and I have the weekend off. Might as well.” I pause. “Oh, and Anna is a little hooked on the show. She’s been bugging me for weeks about whether or not I’ll go.”

           “I love her.”

           I laugh loudly. “I’ll let her know.”

           “I’ll hug her extra hard tomorrow.”

           “I know you will,” I smile.

           She gasps suddenly, and I can just see the grin on her face from here.

           “What…?”

           “The pajama party is tonight…” She trails away.

           “I don’t have a hotel for tonight,” I tell her. “And if I bring Anna then I’d have to bring her back home.”

           “You said it yourself, you don’t have a room yet. So come with Anna, and then go back home.” She pauses. “Please? There’ll be cookies.”

           “How can I turn down cookies?”

           “Yes!” She cheers. “Exactly! I need to call Kim.”

           “I’ll text her and let her know we’re crashing the party,” I chuckle. “Y’all are lucky I love you.”

           “I knowww,” she coos. “But you and Anna will have fun.”

           “Okay,” I breathe. “We’ll come. I’ll let her know. And, hey Bri?”

           “Yeah?”

           “Alcohol?”

           “No alcohol tonight,” she says softly. “It’s family-friendly. Just some cookies and probably water or sodas.”

           I smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

           “Of course, honey,” she replies. “I’ll see you there.”

           “See you.”

           “Love you the most.”

           I grin at that. “Love you, Bri.”

 +++

When I tell Anna about the pajama party, she practically throws herself at her phone to ask mom about it. And, of course, mom agrees, so thirty minutes later we’re throwing on pajamas and heading to the convention center.

           I text Kim to let her know we’re coming, and she replies by telling me her and Bri will be waiting for me in the lobby.

           I thought they were kidding. But when Anna and I walk in, Briana and Kim (along with their handlers) are waiting by the elevator for us. Thankfully Thursdays are small days because the only thing going on is this pajama party and some pre-registration.

           Bri throws herself into my arms when I see her, causing me to stumble a little before she picks me up, squealing into my ear.

           I giggle without being able to help it, squeezing her hard. “I missed you too!”

           I turn to Kim, who says, “I won’t pick you up, but get over here.”

           After our hugs are shared, we make our way back into the green room area for a while. There’s still at least half an hour before the pajama party is supposed to start (or rather, when Kim and Bri are supposed to walk in).

           We’re walking into the green room, Kim is teasing Anna about falling into the dark hole of the Supernatural fandom, and we’re all laughing. And then I see Rob.

           I haven’t seen him – or heard from him for that matter – in a year. I wasn’t expecting his mere appearance to stop me in my tracks, but here I am.

           He’s playing guitar. He’s the only one here, the band either not here yet or off somewhere. But if they are, that’s incredibly odd. Thursday nights are usually when they go explore the city (Rich usually tags along) and have dinner together. So for him to be alone in the green room, playing guitar, just…is weird.

           “Hey.” I feel a hand on my arm, dragging my attention back to Bri. “You okay?”

           I smile. “Yeah.”

           She gives me a look. “Okay…”

           I look past her to see Kim has Anna distracted for a moment. I grab Bri’s arm, leaning closer to whisper, “Is he okay?”

           She glances at Rob before looking back to me. “He…You can go ask him.”

           I nearly groan. “Really?”

           “He’s your friend.”

           “I don’t know…”

           She nudges my ribs. “Go. He’s missed you.”

           “Fine,” I breathe, glaring at her.

           I wasn’t planning on this at all. So I have absolutely nothing planned to say to him right now, but I guess I’m winging it.

           He doesn’t look at me, seemingly lost in his own world, until I pull out a chair and sit down in front of him. He finally looks up, his eyes going wide for a moment before he sits up, holding his guitar down on the floor.

           “Sarah?”

           I chuckle. “Surprise?” I tease. “How’ve you been?”

           He raises an eyebrow. “Good. How have you been?”

           If I’m not mistaken, he sounds seriously upset. But I can’t tell if I’m sensitive or not. “I’m…okay.”

           “Just okay?”

           “Are you ‘just good’?” I retort, moving to the edge of my seat. If he’s going to act this way, then I’m not going to entertain him.

           “Fine. I’ve been worried.”

           “About…?”

           “You!” He cries. “For Christ’s sake, did therapy mess you up so much that you’re shut off from thinking people care about you?”

           I blink. This is definitely not how I was expecting this conversation to go. “Um, therapy actually taught me to be stronger emotionally,” I pause. “Are you okay?”

           “Why do you keep asking?”

           “Okay, forgive me here,” I chuckle nervously, “I thought we were still friends. I just wanted to check on you. I thought it was weird that you were sitting here when you’re normally out with Rich and the band, so my bad.” I shake my head in disbelief. “If you don’t wanna tell me what’s up, then fine. I’ll leave you alone. Just…forget it. Jesus.” I move to stand, but he decides to speak.

           “You didn’t tell me.”

           I lean back in the chair. “Didn’t tell you what?” A lot has happened in the past year, so I’m going to need some elaboration here.

           “How bad it was.”

           Oh. “If we’re being fair, I didn’t tell anyone how bad it was.”

           His eyes move glance off to the side before giving me a tired look. “You told Briana.”

           “Because she drove me to rehab in the first place three years ago,” I admit. I feel my hands begin to clam up at the thought. “That doesn’t even matter. I only told her because she saw how bad it was.”

           “So, what? Just because I couldn’t tell means I didn’t deserve to know?”

           “I didn’t say that.”

           “I had to find out from some stupid damn pop culture website!”

           I had almost forgotten about the headline.

           Supernatural star, Sarah Williams, has reportedly checked into a rehabilitation facility as of last Monday.

           It was a riot when it first came out. Well, I heard it was. I had no clue. Briana handled it for me, thankfully, getting it taken down as soon as she could, but it was a little too late. I was staying away from social media anyway, while I was in rehab and when I got out. Thankfully, the cast of the show voiced their support and asked everyone to respect my privacy at this time. The fandom responded in their usual supportive and caring manner, listening to the cast.

           And then there’s Rob. Sitting here upset that I didn’t tell him. When the reality is: I didn’t tell anyone.

           “Look, you’re upset I didn’t tell you. I get it,” I breathe, shaking my head. “But that article was out of my control. And I wasn’t purposefully trying to attack you. Sure, some people knew I was leaving that con early to go see my therapist, but no one knew it was as bad as it was because I didn’t want anyone to know.” He’s staring at his hands. “I also didn’t know where we stood. We hadn’t spoken in weeks. You had a girlfriend who made you really happy. I didn’t want to ruin that.” I pause, standing from my chair. “You have a right to be upset, so I get it, but I’m still sorry if you felt like I was keeping you in the dark. I wasn’t trying to.”

           And on that note, I walk back to Briana, Kim, and Anna. Back to the laughter.

           Because if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t force him. And he obviously need space or something.

           Briana tugs on my arm. “You okay?”

           “Yeah,” I smile softly. His emotions are not something I can control. “I’m okay.” So I am not going to blame myself. And I refuse to let his outburst make me feel bad for getting the help I needed.

~~~

Tags: @itsfunnierin-enochian @sirraxa @shanghai88 @sherlockedtash88

[formsofcontinuity]

chapters 1, 2, and 3 (or, all earlier chaps on AO3)

chapter 4: calling birds

Lena wakes up the morning of Wednesday, December 28th with two hundred and twenty-seven new Twitter followers and over three thousand mentions. There’s also a 2am text from Kara, just Good night, Lena <3, which does nothing to explain Lena’s sudden surge in social media popularity but does serve to warm her cheeks for a minute or two. She's a fool. A simple good night, and it has her blushing like a schoolgirl.

It takes a little digging, Lena still propped in bed in soft pajamas under an even softer duvet, but eventually she finds the source, a tweet from Kara's official publicity account, timestamped 2:17am:

@therealsupergirl: Always happy to serve the people of NC ofc, but have you checked out what @lenaluthor is doing lately @LLFoundation #lenaluthorfoundation? Low-cost water purifiers? High efficiency solar power generators? Safe plastics recycling? She's the real MVP--show her some love! 💙♻️❤️

What follows is a collection of some of the kindest tweets she's ever had directed towards her, most from complete strangers. Sure, there's a wayward screed or two, but of the few dozen she reads before she looks at the time and realizes she has to get up so she can be ready for an 8am Zoom call with a coalition of East Coast investors, eager to donate prior to the New Year for the tax write-off, the vast majority are complementary.

@piratelifeforme: Wow! I spent all morning reading about what @LLFoundation is up to and I had NO IDEA. Do yourself a favor and check it out, then get on board this train. Superheroes are one thing, but humans have the power to help fix this mess we made, too.

@greenplanetnow: yes @therealsupergirl, you're right! The #lenaluthorfoundation cleaned up a massive water contamination issue in my town after months of unanswered calls to the gov. They did it without asking for a cent, but almost no one reported on it. Not all heroes wear capes. 🙏🏾

@drclimatewatch: As one of the scientists following @lenaluthor 's work, I can verify: her Foundation's charter and her team's innovations truly can revolutionize environmental science. We've wasted too much time on petty rumors when we should be supporting her as a brilliant engineer.

Even Sam has retweeted Kara's message, absent her usual snark.

@samarias: Damn straight, @therealsupergirl! @lenaluthor is not only the smartest woman on the planet, but also a great boss and a true friend who will go to hell and back to do the right thing no matter what people think of her.

The investors on the 8am call are more generous than Lena expected, having thoroughly read her Foundation's report and expressing genuine excitement over the work she's doing. They don't mention Supergirl's tweet, but Lena knows it influenced their level of enthusiasm.

Daniel, her Foundation's head of publicity, calls at 9:30, barreling past Lena’s apologies to assure her that he's thrilled to trade in a couple of his vacation days to help navigate this sudden windfall.  After that, she migrates from her home office to the Foundation office and spends the next few hours on the phone with department heads and her research team strategizing ways to capitalize on the good press wrought by Kara's tweet. By noon, Daniel has fielded calls from twenty-six news outlets, local, national and international, and issued a press release thanking Supergirl for her generous endorsement and directing interested parties to the Foundation's robust website, white papers, and quarterly reports. 

"Want me to help craft your personal response?" Lena's social media manager, Rochelle, is on the phone now. Lena's name is trending, for a good reason for the first time in forever, and she's long since stopped trying to keep track of her mentions. 

"Pardon?"

Rochelle had been typing in the background of their call, but now the clacking pauses. "I had your Foundation account respond several hours ago, but I imagine you want to respond personally, too. Right?"

Oh. Of course, Lena wants to respond personally, but none of the things she's thinking are fit for public consumption. She's pretty sure a declaration of love would shift the conversation in counterproductive ways, for example. Same with asking Kara via tweet about last night's kiss. And then there are the things she wants to say but can't put into words. A wellspring of gratitude. Overwhelming affection. Anxiety about living up to Kara's public declaration of support. Confusion over Kara's decision to tweet that support to the world and to call on her followers to do the same.

"Thanks, Rochelle. Everything you're doing is great. I've been swamped, but I absolutely plan to respond. I think I can manage to come up with something on my own. Is there anything else? I have another call."

"All good, Ms. Luthor. Let me know if you change your mind."

It's a lie. There's no other call, but she needs a moment to think. She needs to talk to Kara. Not tweet at her, just talk. 

Almost immediately, she loses her nerve, the possibilities of all the directions their conversation could go swirling in her mind. Texting seems like a safe compromise, although she bungles it pretty much out of the gate.

Sorry I didn’t message before now. I’m being besieged with tweets for some reason.... 

The reply is immediate. Oh no. Are you mad? 🥺 I just wanted everyone to know how awesome you are. And I wanted you to hear it from them, too, since you never believe me when I say it. 

Lena is not very good at this–gratitude or friendship or whatever social minefield this is that Kara is clearly so much better at navigating. The idea that Kara could possibly think she’d be mad for something so sweet hurts her heart. 

Not mad at all! Sorry. That text was supposed to be – What? Coy? Flirtatious? Funny? It was clearly none of those things; she lands on – thankful. I was just so surprised.

A good surprise?

A lovely surprise, yes.

<3

Lena allows herself a few minutes, then, just to sit and text her best friend, without worrying too much about everything else. She tells her about waking up to the Twitter mentions, about the new investments, about how Daniel and Rochelle were so excited they both offered independently to defer part of their vacation time to help her wrangle media requests and publicity. She doesn't tell her how warm the messages from thousands of people made her feel, that those completely unknown to her might be affected by what she’s done, for good this time, that other people might actually have cause to like and respect her. 

In the end, she settles for a Streetcar Named Desire joke.

I have never depended on the kindness of strangers, Kara.

Kara doesn’t miss a beat. You don’t strike me as a Blanche anyway. Did it feel good, this one time?

Leave it to Kara to cut to the chase. 

It did. Thank you.

My pleasure. 

Lena’s phone beeps. Daniel needs her to talk to some new potential investors in a half hour and has sent along their portfolio. 

I have to go. I’m so sorry.

It's ok. I know you're busy.

Thanks to you, even more so than usual. 😂

Haha. I didn’t think that one through, did I? 

I don’t mind, Kara. I’m thrilled the Foundation is making a difference. 

I mind! When are you going to find time for me if you’re mobbed by all your other adoring fans? 

Lena looks hard at her phone. All your other adoring fans. She could go for teasing deflection or affectionate sincerity in her response, and vacillates for a moment between the two. 

You know you're my favorite. I should have time after tomorrow’s press conference? Coffee? 

I’d love that. 

Before Lena turns to the files Daniel sent, she pulls up Twitter on her computer, and quickly fires off a response before she can talk herself out of it, posting it, with only a hint of trepidation, for all the world to see. 

@lenaluthor:  Thank you all. I want nothing more than to work together to save our planet. It's ours, aliens and humans alike. And Supergirl? I couldn't ask for a better ally or partner, one who challenges and encourages me. Not a day goes by I'm not grateful for you, @therealsupergirl

[lampmeeting]

dethmas dec. 14 - mordhaus office party

whoops i forgot the 'mordhaus' part of this prompt.... oh well. this is magnus feeling lonely at the dethklok home for wayward musicians christmas party ;~;

small fic explanation under the cut:

Usually the little chime of a text message wasn't enough to wake Toki, but this time it did. He slowly rolled over onto his stomach, pulled up his sleep mask, and grabbed the phone off the night stand. It was six in the morning, and Magnus had sent him a text.

> Hey you awake

Well, he was now. But he wasn't going to say that to Magnus. He blinked hard and squinted at the keyboard as he messaged him back.

> Yup :) whats up???

There was no immediate reply, so Toki sat back against the pillows and rubbed his eyes. Before too long, the chime sounded again.

> I'm at the work thing

Oh, that was right. If it was six in Mordland that meant it was... (Toki counted on his fingers and stuck out his tongue) ten at night in Phoenix. And Magnus was still at his employee Christmas party.

> Are you having fun?? ;)

The ellipses popped up for a second then disappeared. Then again. Then nothing. Toki frowned at the screen as he waited. Maybe there was a bad signal. Maybe one of Magnus' friends got his attention. There were probably all sorts of games and foods to eat and people to talk to. It was understandable that Magnus would get pulled in all directions over the course of the night and forget to text back.

A couple minutes passed and still no reply. Yeah, Magnus must've been off having a good time. Toki rolled out of bed, figuring he might as well wake up for real and hop in the shower.

The phone rang. It was Magnus.

"Hey!" Toki answered. He could hear distant music in the background and the hum of conversation. "You didn'ts needs to call, Magnus, I knows you're busy."

Magnus said nothing. Toki angled the phone against his ear but still only heard murmurings and a lively piano rendition of Jingle Bells.

"Hellos?"

Maybe he'd been butt-dialed. Wouldn't have been the first time.

"Magnus, ams you there? Helloooooos?" He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "Okay, Toki ams gonna hangs up n--"

"Sorry," came a quiet voice. "I'm, uh. I'm here."

"Magnus! There you ams!"

"Yeah."

"Thoughts you calleds me askidentals."

"No." A hard sigh came through the phone like static. "I just...no, I dunno. Sorry, I shouldn't have. Go back to sleep."

"Ams okay. I wants to hears all abouts this party!"

Magnus, again, went silent.

"Magnus?"

Nothing. Toki tried again.

"Ooo, you gotta tells me what kindsa cookies they gots--"

"I can't do this anymore."

The words poured slowly into the pit of Toki's stomach like bad milk, and he sunk to sit on the edge of his mattress. "Whats you means...?"

He caught the sound of a shuddering breath on the other end.

"I dunno... I dunno, this just...it's bullshit. I want you here, bud. With me."

Tears stung in the corners of Toki's eyes and he fiddled with one of the buttons on his Christmas pajamas. "You knows I wants that too."

"I know."

"But we can'ts yet."

"...I know. Sorry, uh...sorry."

"Magnus..." Toki cradled the phone closer, trying somehow to transfer the gentle touch through the signal. "Soons, okay?"

He heard a sniffle. "Yeah."

"Magnus, hey..."

"No I know, I'm fine." After a couple more sniffles, Magnus cleared his throat with the phone turned away. "I'm fine. For real. It's just, yeah, um..." He huffed a short, joyless laugh into the receiver. "It's really, really fucking lonely here. Y'know?"

Toki knew. All too well.

"And I, uh," Magnus continued, meandering and unsure, "I just. Yeah. Everybody else brought someone to this fucking party, like husbands and girlfriends and shit. And there's dancing. We...maybe we could've danced together. Or something."

Toki wiped at his eyes. "That woulds've been fun."

"Yeah." Magnus was quiet again for a moment, and the delicate piano in the background played Silent Night. "Well, anyway...I just wanted to hear your voice real quick. I'll, uh...I'll let you go now."

"You don'ts haves to."

"No, someone's gonna see me if I sit out here in the dark too long. They already think I'm a fucking weirdo as it is."

"You ams a weirdos." Toki pressed his lips to the phone in an audible smooch. "And this weirdos loves you lots and lots, ."

"Love you, too, bud."

"Go tries and haves fun, okay? Dos it for Toki?"

"Yeah, yeah...fine. I'll eat a fucking gingerbread man on your behalf, how's that sound."

They shared a little laugh, and then Toki heard what he could swear was a smooch against the phone on the other end.

"Thank you," Magnus said in no more than a whisper. "I miss you."

Before Toki could answer in kind, the call ended. He sat there on his bed in the darkness, circling his thumb around the 'call' icon and thinking. Would it really have been so bad if he'd gone to that party? Most of the employees there knew him well enough that a simple Santa hat wouldn't have fooled them, but maybe that would've been okay.

Soon, he told himself. Once he got up the courage to talk to Nathan. Whenever that would be. But soon. It had to be soon.

[queen-rowenas]

2020-2021 masterlist

a list of my supernatural fics and drabbles, as a treat

→ general (where i write stuff) — tag

like a christmas movie - a christmas movie marathon, a kiss in the snow, holiday fluff, established relationship

stealing hearts - destiel au, thieves, this was supposed to be a short fic but i got carried away and now i’m obsessed, tempted to make a series out of this

date night 101 - dean and Cas’s first date night, dorky boyfriend fluff, established relationship

beehaw (cowboys and bees) - cas has the sexiest costume at the party, according to dean, dorky boyfriend fluff, established relationship

this is a high honor - every moment with dean is an honor for castiel, angst with a happy ending

witness to a fall - castiel watches another angel fall for dean winchester, hurt/comfort, established relationship

your words, your quiet touch - the protective runes on dean’s ribs, established relationship

these late nights - quiet motel room nights together, fluff, established relationship

my favorite everything - cas’s favorite color revealed, tell us your favorite color and we’ll tell you what taylor swift era you are, established relationship

the merits of yellow paint - painting the sunroom, handprint fluff, established relationship

is love a tender thing - romeo and juliet discourse, cas-centric, established relationship

that’s my husband. castiel’s version - husband fluff, established relationship

husband, mine - five times someone calls cas dean’s husband and one time it’s actually true, proposal, establish relationship

end of the beginning - cas becoming human, fluff, establish relationship

under your quiet spell - cas-centric, watching dean sleep, established relationship

let me heal all your aches - hurt/comfort, cas healing dean, established relationship

when the party’s over - happy birthday dean winchester, dean accidentally gets icing on cas’s face, established relationship, inspired by this post

make a wish - happy birthday dean winchester, birthday curse fic, love confession, first kiss

eldritch monster in love - sometimes dean forgets cas is a powerful celestial being, established relationship

that’s my husband. dean’s version - husband fluff, established relationship

the guest room - jody being a protective mom, tfw + wayward sisters fam, established relationship (but jody doesn’t know)

sparks fly - cas bursting light bulbs, first kiss, flustered!cas

the white noise, the song - dean being a cute bf who still can’t believe cas loves him, established relationship, inspired by this post

pick a side - protective!cas, dean thought they had established sides of the bed, established relationship

shelter - emotional hurt/comfort, heavy on the comfort, established relationship

→ drabbles (where i shoot my thoughts into the void) — tag

*** not up to date, check tag ***

no normal meet cutes

dean teaching an angel about road rage

early seasons destiel

destiel trophy husband discourse

the progression of dean’s prayers

finding someone who loves them for who they are

dean says he’s gonna shave his head, cas says no

taylorswiftnatural and thee trench coat

destiel thirst traps discourse

dean teaching jack how to paint his nails

peak sibling behavior

eldritch monster lets human take care of him

dean not knowing how to talk to other angels

honey!cas protecting dean

elevator make out session, dr. sexy style

castiel thee angel v. miracle thee dog

dean questioning his sexuality via the olympics

cas’s hot girl summer via olivia rodrigo

cas in sock garters

dorky little guy v. super strong dude

mr. lizzo

reverse blanket thief

the one thing i want

jeopardy nights

pajamas don’t know her

the cas and garth team up we deserved

djinn royalty v. one (1) dude with a g.e.d.

cas’s car sticker family

dean’s real guilty pleasure show

heaven’s new work culture

→ destiel december 2020 (merry chrysler)

day 1: fireplace - cuddles, dean wearing all the layers, established relationship

day 2: decorating - first kiss, decorating the bunker fluff

day 3: presents - dean’s novelty socks, mixtape fluff, established relationship

day 4: sledding - flustered!dean, tfw family time, established relationship

day 5: shopping - dean being a chaotic but sweet bf, established relationship

day 6: angel - true form fluff, established relationship

day 7: peppermint - flustered!dean, established relationship

day 8: blizzard - cuddles, dean using cas’s trenchcoat, established relationship

day 9: family - dean in the kitchen, breakfast at the bunker, found family fluff, established relationship

day 10: mistletoe - pranks, secret relationship (but is it tho), sam ships it (but he’s also very done), established relationship

— writing tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@10x02 @adammlligan @alex-is-a-boy-b-tch @bixlasagna @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielsbeeslippers @ccstiel @cottagecore-cas @deanwinchesteradjacent @destieldisaster @destielfactory @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @feraladoration @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @garthed @himitsubana @ialwaysordericedcoffee @im-sam-fucking-winchester @lalisfandoms @lateral-org @littlewolf2703 @llamasdumpsterfire @martymar1963 @marvells @mrswatermelon @nightandwine @okamigamer1 @organicpurplepants @prime-catra @ragingdeansexual @rainbowscas @starsdahb @starrynightdeancas @takemetotheworld @tearsofgrace @top13zepptraxx @van-dynex @winchester-novak @wormstacheangel @writtenmemxries @zeffiroh

[mamacesawrites]

The Duke of the Bay: Part 8

[Spotify Playlist] [Youtube Playlist]

First Part, Ao3 Link, Next Part (Coming Soon)

Story Warnings: Guns, threats, alcohol, violence homosexual slang used pejoratively and positively, internalized homophobia, ask me to add any if need be

Chapter Warnings:   This is a heavy chapter. Violence is only implied, but the implications have a heavy impact. Read with caution.

Chapter Word Count:    3839

Summary: Patton O’Hearty was a great detective. Most people didn’t take him for one at first glance, especially when he dressed casual. He was abnormally chipper; he thought everything was the cat’s pajamas. He had a smile for everyone he met. He was always tipping his hat at the dames and gents when he walked the streets of the Bay Area.

The only person he could never catch was the leader of the planted mob in Emeryville, nicknamed The Duke. The Duke was good at hiding his dealings and joints well, and he rarely had a snitch in his ranks. The few who tried, well, somehow they disappeared before they could give the police any substantial information. He was well hidden, but popular among the residents of the town. People talked boldly of his rambunctious parties, never revealing the locations though. He was hard to catch, to say the least.

So what happens, when instead, the detective is the one that’s caught?

-

The dawn came as it always did- a soft gray and orange haze streaking in with the marine layer over the water of the San Francisco Bay. Roman de Rossi had a lovely view of it from his family mansion on San Pablo Avenue. A mansion that felt too big lately, with too high of a price to keep. 

 Roman rolled over to get out of bed when he bumped into something hard and stiff. His heart skipped a beat when he heard his wife cry out. 

“Jeeze, Ro, trying to be the first at the breakfast table again?” Rosalie’s voice was gruff. She rubbed the spot on her back where Roman had bumped. “I already got one slugger goin’ for my kidneys.” 

Roman rolled his eyes, though he was relieved he hadn’t hurt Rosalie. “Rose, why aren’t you in your bed?” 

 “Because I needed the warmth and comfort of my husband.” she mumbled sarcastically into her pillow, already on her way back to sleep. 

 All exhausted bitterness left him at the sound of her snores. At the beginning of their marriage it had been incredibly overbearing for him-to the point they shared separate beds- but with the rising threat of the gangs, he never knew when he’d see the last of his wife. After yesterday, there wasn’t even a certainty that he’d make it to see the birth of his twins. 

 Carefully, with a hesitation that seemed to become all-too-familiar, he rested his hand on Rosalie’s belly that was under his blanket. Rosalie hummed in response, but kept her eyes closed still. Roman tried to feel for any movement from the twins, but they didn’t. He tried to think that it was because they were also sleeping. It had nothing to do with the fact that every time he tried to feel for their movement he would get nothing. He ignored the tightness in his throat, he disregarded the burning tears, and prayed to God silently that he would make it through this trying time long enough to at least hold his children once. 

 The thought was an unwelcome intrusion since that fateful telegram from the Duke’s right hand man two months before. Shoving the bitter memory of that message aside, he got himself ready in the dark with a swiftness, already wanting the day to be done. He couldn’t tell whether his need to stay home was due to his anxieties of being a father, his weariness of  having more caseloads of rising crime, or his paranoia about criminal eyes spying on him. He watched his large wife turn about in her sleep as he dressed; she was unable to find a comfortable position. He couldn't blame her. Something he wished he’d have considered before the pregnancy was getting a large family bed so they could share it. Even if she snored like a boozed up bear. 

 A lock of her thick black hair fell out of it’s wrap and was caught in the light from the hallway behind him. Her lips were pushed out in a half pout, half pucker. The gown she was wearing was a large blue cotton dress with flowing sleeves. Her eyes were closed, not restful, but crinkled under her worried brows. Her face had gotten wider in her pregnancy. Her cheeks were flushed with red with elevated temperature from the warm room. She moved her hand to hold under her head as she laid on her side, facing Roman and the door. 

 She was beautiful, and Roman took this moment to appreciate her beauty, for he didn't know if this was the last time he would see her. He’d never know from now on. 

 "I can feel ya starin', darling husband," her teasing tone was muffled by the pillow and her sleepiness. "Get to work so I can sleep." 

 He quietly leaned over her, just as he always did, and kissed her. 

 He’d never know that his tired wife had noticed the despair in the extra moments their lips were met. 

 “Send for someone right away if anything happens, alright dear?” he asked while brushing a stray curl aside. 

 “Sure thing honey…”

 His walk to work was dim in the early morning as the fog was thick as wool. The only light guiding his way was a soft orange desperately clinging to the lampposts. The fog was dense with the promise of the coming autumn season for next month. It wasn’t smart of him to have left so early. There was no one on the street. No vagrants, no Jezebels, and no wayward orphans. Just him, the mist, and the sound of his shoes on moist stones. Still, just because he couldn't see anyone, it didn't mean that he didn't feel like he was being watched with eyes capable of seeing through all sorts of darkness. 

 It was soon enough in his hurry that he made it to the precinct. He ran his hand through his somewhat damp hair as he took his hat off at the entrance. He was early, earlier than normal, and the shift-changing deputies milling about by the entrance desk stood up straighter when they saw him. 

 “Hey, Cap’n. How’s the missus? Ready to burst just yet?” the old man at the desk asked. His name was Reggie, and if you called him a secretary you’d get a busted lip. He was the nicest-and oldest- member of the force. 

 “Oh, she’s fine. Doc says it’s gonna be any day now ‘til they’re here. I think she’s more excited than I am for it to be over. She’s been complaining about her feet being so swollen she can barely stand,” Roman laughed. The use of the word ‘complain’ was only polite. Rosalie’s ‘complaints’ about her pregnancy would make sailors blush. 

 Reggie guffawed. “Yeah, I remember when Ethel had her first. She was cursing so bad near the end you’d think she was a drunken sailor in a brig!” 

 “Women have a way with words, don’t they Reg?” Roman commented as he made his way around the desk. He wasn’t really waiting for an answer as he kept walking away. 

 Reggie must have been in a nice mood, since he didn’t point out the Captain’s distracted behavior as he walked off. Roman appreciated that. He was already in deep enough trouble with his reputation as a younger force captain. 

 Roman was grateful that he was going to be able to take some leave soon. He didn’t like being away from his pregnant wife all day. Especially now, with everything so changed. He sat down in his rolling chair with the force of a thousand anvils. He opened the folder on his desk, knowing there’d be no change in it since the last time he filled it a month ago with the ‘tip’ Logan and Patton got.

 Case Number: 103625 - Open - “The Duke” 

 He sighed to himself as a heavy headache formed behind his eyes. It was a new day, which meant new trouble, which meant he seriously needed some coffee. He reached for his announcer when- 

 “Captain, there’s a visitor here for ya.” A fresh faced rookie announced while walking into the office. His voice was a bit too anxious-to-please for the captain’s liking in the morning . 

 Roman’s voice imitated distant thunder - a warning, a looming threat - “Haven’t you heard of knocking, boy?” 

 The young man was smart enough to appear embarrassed. “I apologize, sir.” He stood at attention as he had been trained to do. His badge gleamed in the light of the office as his chest puffed out.

 Roman felt guilty for snapping at him. He didn’t want to be an angry, bitter leader, like his predecessor. Or like his father had been. Those old men were so hardened by stress that they felt no regard for those beneath them. He refused to be that way, no matter what.  So he forced his body to relax as he imagined the darkness in his heart being swept under the new rug of his office. 

 “I understand. I was a rookie like you once upon a time. What seems to be the trouble?” Roman forced a smile on his face, as though it was drying cement to keep in place.

 “You’ve got a guy saying he’s here for a meeting, a...Mr. Doris? Fella has a scar right here on his face." The officer took his finger and motioned on his face as an indicator of his description. Obviously the young man’s mind was wandering to stories about the nastiest criminals known to man. 

 Roman nodded, cleared his throat, then told him, "Bring him in." 

 The young officer disappeared, and in one breath the enemy had walked through the office door as if he owned the place. Roman sighed in defeat. It wasn’t ‘as if’ he owned the place, it was that he practically did. Especially now that the detectives weren’t ever going to ‘catch’ the bad guys like they should have ages ago.

 “What brings you in so early, Mr. Doris?” Roman asked. He stood up, smoothed down his tie, and held his hand out to shake his visitor’s gloved hand.  

 The visitor smirked. “I like the new you, Roman. Straight to the punch without any frivolous small talk. Such a change from the last time we had spoken.” 

 The memory sat between them. A smoked out room, sweaty foreheads, two guns between two young men, a kiss- a stalemate. 

 Roman gulped down the anxious sensation and forced himself to speak. “Well, I haven’t had any coffee yet, so I’m not feeling patient enough for chit chat.” 

 Mr. Doris’ laughter sent chills down Roman’s spine. His voice was dry and raspy, like a lizard. “I see. Well, the good news is that your two lead detectives are good at their jobs.” He slammed his fist down onto the desk as his eyes peered into Roman’s. “The bad news is, they’re so good at their job, even you don’t control them anymore.” 

 “That’s not true!” Roman exploded. The force of his anger pushed him out of his seat so he was practically nose to nose with his guest. “I just suspended Logan Smith for admitting he’s working with one of your men! Detective O’Hearty is too personable to be focused on investigating your precious boss! Hell, he’s probably going to be too busy sidetracked into chasing wild geese from that stunt Logan pulled. And another thing-” 

 “That’s enough, Roman.” Mr. Doris covered Roman’s mouth with one of his gloved hands. “You’ve told me all I needed to know.” 

 It’s too easy to play you, dear Roman, Doris thought to himself. I knew something was up with Virgil Vitale. He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face at the thought of finally teaching the little punk a lesson. 

 Roman shook the hand off of his mouth. His breath was shaky. “What do you mean?” 

 “Oh, I won’t tell you, dear,” Mr. Doris hummed. He walked to the doorway without any explanation. It was time to take business into his own hands after all. No more time to waste. “I’ve gotta run. Say hi to the missus for me.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure the unspoken threat hit its target. 

 Roman was left standing in that position. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. His hair laid out of control around his face, his heart pounding, and the sense of impending doom- as if he just sentenced an innocent man to death. 

 ----------

 Alice woke up to the sound of the radio downstairs playing some German concerto. It was a slow morning for once. She hummed to herself, pleased that she was able to wake up slowly to beautiful music as opposed to the sound of harsh knocking at her door. Yet as she turned over in bed her peace was interrupted by the brightness of the sun shining through the window. She groaned at the disruption to her dreamy haze. 

 Alice hefted herself out of the large bed and made herself to the large vanity-much nicer than the one at her apartment- and started working on her hair. Once she was done making sure she looked presentable she made her way down the grand staircase to meet Logan wherever he was at. Which, knowing how large the house was, meant that it could be a proper while before she would find him. 

 The smell of sizzled meat wafted through the large hallways. Instead of looking for Logan, she decided to make her way towards the dining room from the night before. It’s rude to check in and hover over a cook’s shoulder, she reckoned. No matter how curious it was to her that Logan didn’t have any help at all. 

 The moment she sat down she heard the door from the kitchen open.  Logan was pushing a dining cart forward on his own. He had a white rag placed over his shoulder and a stained white apron tied around his waist. He was whistling an unfamiliar tune to himself as he set out the platters in front of Alice. She couldn’t help but laugh. She was enjoying this bright version of the detective. 

 “What’s the occasion, detective?” Alice asked once he sat down with her. 

 Logan struggled to hide a sheepish grin, “It’s just been a long while since I’ve had any sort of company over. I don’t get to go out much with my line of work.” 

 “Aw, didn’t wanna bring any wayward souls home for Christmas?” she teased. 

 Logan rolled his eyes at her. It was good that he was loosening up around her humor. Alice wondered if she could get away with cursing around him yet, but decided not to push her luck, given that they had a long day ahead of them. 

 “It’s gotta be more than me, come on.” Alice waggled her eyebrows at him. “What’s with the shift in the wind?” 

 Logan ignored her prompts. Instead, he lowered his head. Alice rushed to set her fork down so she could follow suit. 

 “Father God, I ask that you bless this food and those who consume it. We thank you for providing for us. We ask for you to sustain our spirits as well as our bodies. I ask that you help us in all of our endeavors today, and I thank you for bringing me someone to share this meal with. Thank you for providing me such youthful company. Amen.” 

 “Amen.” Alice echoed. She tried to keep her questions to herself. Logan’s prayer wasn’t one she had ever heard before. 

 Alice lifted the cover to reveal her breakfast. There was sausage, eggs, and toast with powdered sugar. It smelled amazing. 

 “Thank you, Logan, this looks delicious.” She immediately went for the eggs. It had been so long since she’d had eggs for breakfast. Not since she left her farm home nearly two years ago. 

 They sat at the table with only the sounds of the radio in the living room occasionally drifting in through the doors. Alice was enjoying her meal so much, she jumped when she heard the fancy telephone in the hallway ringing. 

 “Excuse me, Alice.” Logan muttered. He wiped his hands on his apron and swiftly walked on his long legs to the hallway. 

 It was irritating, being called in the morning. Especially when his meal was being interrupted. He lifted the earpiece off of the ringing box and greeted the operator quickly. Who would be calling him now that he’s suspended? 

 “Logan? Is this Logan Smith?” a partially familiar feminine voice asked over the receiver. 

“Yes. Who is this?” 

 Her words were spoken in rushes with pauses sounding like heavy breathing. “It’s Rosalie...Rosalie de Rossi.-” she took in a deep breath ”-I’m your captain’s wife!” After that she let out a bone-chilling moan. 

 The captain’s wife? He had only met her once at the Independence Day party at the Captain’s new mansion. Why was she calling someone like him? 

 The woman on the line hissed. “God fucking dammit! It hurts!” 

 “What hurts? What’s wrong? Where are you?” Logan threw his questions at her quickly as he reached for his notepad. 

 “My my,” a slick, whiskey smooth, masculine voice answered. He tutted. “Not very clever, Detective Smith.” 

 “Where is Mrs. de Rossi?” Logan asked. He felt as if the air around him was heavier. There was a weight settling into his chest. He ignored the familiar sensations and made a note that someone else had taken the line. 

 “She’s still alive. And she will stay that way, if you do everything I ask.” The man’s words were drawn out. Almost as if he were bored, or stalling. 

 “What do you want?” Logan hissed. The million questions he had were shoved aside when the man answered. 

 “I want your lover, Detective. Bring that filthy, grimy, Italian punk to the fisherman’s market in San Francisco after dark. Or I’ll just have to do something to your boss’ beautiful broodmare.” The voice chuckled at his sick comment. 

 This man was evil. The most evil he'd ever come across. Logan felt like he was going to topple over. “What makes you think I’ll come alone? That I won’t go straight to the captain?” 

 Laughter as dark as water at midnight bled through the receiver. “Oh Mr. Smith, that’s what I want. Give me a reason to pluck those sweet babies out of his missus.” 

 Logan heard a scream in the background. A string of curse words that he didn’t doubt were justified. 

 “Please don’t hurt her. Be reasonable. Why did you call me? I’m on suspension, I don’t have access to the resources-” 

 “Because your lover's family declared war, my boy!” the man roared. Logan identified his accent-Irish, or Scottish perhaps. “I’m going to get what I need outta him. So lock your brunette bitch away, grab your buddy and your faggot, and get your ass to my docks when the sun sets. Or-” another blood curdling scream from the woman in the background “-the captain’s dear wife and her babies drown.” 

 Just like that, the phone call ended. Logan didn’t have time to stand in the shock. Instinctive training responses immediately took over his body. He didn’t go back to the dining room and instead ran to get himself dressed. No other thoughts intruded. His head was empty of everything other than the fact that he needed backup. 

 He needed Patton. He needed to gather his resources. It was still nine in the morning. He had maybe eight hours before it was sunset, then two hours to cross the bay into San Francisco to the fisherman’s market. His mind was fixated on trying to create the quickest itinerary possible and how to notify the captain without the mysterious caller knowing. He seemed to know much more than Logan was comfortable with. 

 Logan was tying his shoes as he thought. He hadn’t told anyone about the night with Virgil. No one knew. He figured Alice may have suspected, but she hadn’t been able to talk to anyone. Not that she would. She was just a kid. She was just caught up in all of this business out of desperation and survival. Alice was just a pawn in a twisted game. She wasn’t a main player. 

 Patton was too wrapped up in his obsession with the Duke to even notice. Still, he was very angry towards Logan now that he knew Virgil was involved. Who knows what the captain and Patton talked about after Logan was dismissed. He remembered the knowing look at the Lion’s Den last month. His partner said then that he accepted everybody. Could he have been saying that to blend in? 

 Then there was the fact that this was the captain’s wife. Why kidnap her to get to Logan? He didn’t know the woman at all, only that the captain loved her very much. She was pregnant when they had met, and from the sound of the call she still was. 

 “Logan, where are you going?” Alice asked from the doorway of his bedroom. 

 “There’s an emergency. I need to go.” He pushed himself past her and rushed down the staircase. “Please stay here. Don’t leave.”

“Will Virgil be back to nanny me again?” she asked indignantly. 

 The question struck him through the heart. He couldn’t leave her unattended. She was defenseless here. The Duke's men could come looking for her. No doubt one of them was behind this in the first place as a way to distract them.

 “No. No, I-” he turned to her. “There’s trouble. I need to move you somewhere safer. You can’t be alone.” 

 Alice’s face seemed to grow ten years older. “I understand. Let’s go.” 

 They both grabbed their hats from the hook and walked out the door. Logan made his way to his car without another word. Alice felt in her gut that they were running into something more dangerous than she had ever known. 

 “Where are we going?” Alice asked after climbing into the carriage seat. Logan saw that she had withdrawn into herself. The silly child that he was starting to get introduced to had left her body. 

 “To Patton’s. I don’t think he’ll have left yet. We need his help.” Logan pulled out onto the street. “I’ll tell you on the way.” 

 Before the pair had shown up to Patton’s house, he had just drank his coffee. He didn’t need to go into the station today. All of his caseloads were closed except for one. Today was a day of regrouping and hitting the pavement. It was time for some good old fashioned talking to people again. The best way to find someone was to ask their friends or neighbors politely. Give them a smile and such. 

 He took his time getting ready. Trying to find the man that he used to be before this craziness started. The man who was able to walk down the street with faith in his heart. The detective who could solve everything with the right words someone needed to hear. That man was nowhere to be found as he pulled clothes from his closet. 

 It was a new day. He knew he would make progress today. No one was going to get the drop on him again. 

 When he sat down in his armchair his eye was caught on something on the end table. A piece of paper that didn’t seem to be from any of his  notepads. It wasn’t there when he had gone to bed the night before. 

 A familiar delicious thrill rushed through his body. Part of him thought to call on the locksmith soon, though it might not do much good. Carefully, as if the note were an explosive and not a simple message, he lifted the paper. 

 It was no simple message. 

 You’re in danger, dear detective. There are worse evils than I. Don’t do what your colleague asks. Come to me at the Lion’s Den instead. -The Duke

 Before he had time to react, there was rapid knocking at his door.

-

-

A/N:

Hello there! It's been nearly a year. There's a reason for that.

I work very, very hard when it comes to my stories. This one has a very important place in my heart. I had to take a break from it because the last thing I wanted to do was make rush decisions or half-ass everything.

In doing so, it meant that I had to wait until I had the time to give it the attention it deserves. I recently had a lot of my life change this past year, mostly losing loved ones. So this fic didn't get much of it's deserved time at once.

That being said, I swear this has a direction. While a lot of it is up to interpretation, this has a very direct sequence of events. That's why it's important for me to be able to pay extra attention.

That being said, I'm making a new normal. This fic goal is to be updated every 3 months, maybe less. My practice is to edit 3 times at least before I post.

Let me know what you thought of this chapter. Tell me your theories about what will happen next! I love talking about this story with anyone who will listen.

-

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taglist: @deceits-left-glove 

let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this or any other ship/story

check my pinned tumblr post for more of my work 

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Wake-Up Calls and Watermelon (SPN/CM)

Criminal Minds / Supernatural crossover! 

Word Count: ~2140

Warnings: Irresponsible use of pink feathery handcuffs, but don’t worry, Sam is there to give a safety lecture. Kiddie pools, kittens, an emotional support cyberterrorist, and so much fluff. Ridiculous escapism at its finest. Everybody needs a smile these days, right? 

A/N: Four mornings on the Wayward Sons World Tour. This is part of the Rockstar AU, but it can be read on its own, as can most of that series. There’s no real plot, just shenanigans and silliness. 

Thanks to @stunudo​ and @fookinghelljensensthighs​ for pre-reading and inspirational photographs, respectively! 

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 4: somewhere between Miami and Orlando, FL

Something is meowing. 

Rossi frowns to himself and opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bunk. 

Something is meowing on his bus. 

His first thought would ordinarily be Penelope and one of her assorted stuffed animals or weird talking figurines. Spencer could also potentially be the culprit, depending on what sort of chemicals were in his system. Last time Rossi checked, though, both of them were on the other bus, where the shenanigans are supposed to happen. This is the quiet bus, where the grownups sleep. 

The mysterious something meows again. 

Bad enough that he’s slumming it sleeping on a goddamn tour bus. Now there’s a goddamn petting zoo on board. Rossi sighs and gets out of his bunk to investigate. 

“Who’s the cutest kitten in the entire world?” Morgan is sitting on the ground in the front, smiling adoringly at a tiny ball of black fuzz he’s cradling in his palms. “Who’s the sweetest little furball I’ve ever seen, hmm?” 

“How on God’s green earth did you find a kitten at —�� Rossi glances at the clock on the microwave. “—nine in the morning in the middle of Florida?” 

Morgan looks a little guilty, but Rossi can’t tell if it’s because he has a kitten or because he got caught using that ridiculous high-pitched voice. 

“We’re at a rest stop so the drivers can get a couple hours’ sleep, and Hotch and I were stretching our legs, and they were in a box close to the highway,” Morgan explains. “He was the only one who was still alive. I couldn’t just leave him there.” 

The door opens, and Hotch comes in, carefully carrying a small dish of water. He’s followed by Sam Winchester, who has an upside-down drum that’s padded with a towel. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Rossi mutters, watching the three grown men surround the kitten and coo at it. Morgan tucks it into the drum and it curls up happily, meowing its appreciation. 

Sam’s phone rings, and he digs it out of his pocket and answers: “Yeah? No, we got water, we just — no, Dean, Jesus. Just the hoodie. Did you find it?” He pauses and scowls, stepping away from the others and lowering his voice. “No, that’d be way too big for it, are you kidding me? That collar was specially made… no! Leave the fucking leash, Dean, it’s not like we’re taking the kitten for walks.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, bring the feathery thing, just — oh for fuck’s sake, leave that bag alone before you find something you really don’t — Dean. Yeah. Cool.” He grimaces and hangs up. 

“Do I want to know?” Rossi asks, with a new sense of respect. 

“No,” Sam says firmly. He turns back to Hotch and Morgan and announces, “Dean’s bringing some stuff we can use as cat toys, and a big hoodie with a pocket so you can carry it around.” 

“Sweet. Thanks, man,” Morgan says, flashing a bright grin. He’s all googly-eyed. 

“What should we name it?” Sam asks, crouching down and rubbing under the kitten’s chin with one careful finger. 

They all take a moment to consider. The little ball of fluff is purring, and even Rossi has to admit that it’s goddamn adorable. 

“What kind of drum is that?” Hotch asks Sam, who grins. 

“Pearl.” 

“Pearl!” Morgan echoes delightedly. “Who’s the prettiest little black pearl, hmm?” 

“I guess we need to find a pet store,” Rossi sighs, and settles in to get to know his grand-kitten.

***

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 7: Atlanta, GA

“Wheels up in fifteen,” Hotch is shouting, banging on the hotel room door. JJ groans without opening her eyes and tries to pull Emily closer, rubbing her cheek against the soft worn cotton of Emily’s shirt. 

“What the fuck,” Emily mumbles. 

“Oh, seriously, what the fuck,” comes Penelope’s voice. The fact that it’s coming from somewhere above JJ is what makes her frown and open her eyes. 

She and Emily are on the floor, lying in a sort of nest, which upon closer inspection seems to be made up of an inflatable kiddie pool filled with blankets. 

Penelope is peering over the edge of her bed at them, squinting blearily, last night’s hot pink lipstick smeared down her chin. She appears to be wearing a plastic coconut bra over her shirt. 

“Huh,” JJ says. She pulls a lei off her neck. “Did we throw a tiki party last night?” 

“That would seem to be the case,” Emily says slowly. She rolls over and wraps her arms around JJ. “Five more minutes.” 

“Solid plan,” JJ answers, snuggling in. The kiddie pool is surprisingly comfortable. 

“Not if we have to pack up and get our sorry asses on the bus in fifteen minutes,” Penelope reminds them. 

“Fuck.” 

“I smell like… like daiquiris and regret,” Penelope sighs. She wrestles the coconut bra off and flings it across the room. 

“You can have first shower,” Emily says generously. 

JJ hears Penelope pad across the floor, and then there’s a surprised yelp from the bathroom. 

“Is Spencer in the tub again?” JJ mutters. 

“Yes, but oh my god, you guys, you need to come see this,” Penelope says, giggling. JJ groans, head spinning, but manages to get up. She hauls Emily to her feet. 

JJ pokes her head through the bathroom door and snorts. Spencer’s wearing one of those cheap fake grass skirts over his jeans and there’s a top hat perched on his head. He’s got his arms wrapped around a tacky pink flamingo lawn ornament. 

“Em, get your—”

“On it,” Emily says, already reappearing with her phone to snap a picture. 

Spencer stirs with a pathetic sort of whining noise. 

“Next time I suggest coconut rum,” he slurs, without opening his eyes, “...remind me I’m a moron, ‘kay?” 

*** 

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 10: near Dallas, TX

“Get your hooves out of the toaster!” Cas says urgently. Dean starts awake and almost falls out of the bunk. He really needs to give up trying to sleep with Cas on the bus; these things were not meant for two people. 

Cas mumbles something about Mufasa and opens his eyes groggily. 

“Fun dreams?” Dean asks, voice raspy with sleep. He cuddles close and presses a kiss to Cas’s pulse. 

“There were wildebeests in the kitchen,” Cas croaks. 

“Sounds like a good time. Coffee?” 

“Mmm.” 

Dean rolls out of the bunk and stretches. The door to the back lounge is open, and he can hear music; he looks inside curiously. 

He remembers Sam saying something about a Doctor Who marathon. Geek.

The DVD menu is up on the little flat-screen, playing the theme music in a loop. Sam’s sprawled out on one of the couches with popcorn in his hair, and Penelope and Charlie are leaning against each other on the other couch. 

Someone snores loudly, but it doesn’t seem to be any of those three. Dean looks around, momentarily confused, until he spots Spencer, who has wedged himself under the tiny table. He’s curled up with what looks like Charlie’s favorite purple hoodie as a pillow, and Pearl is kneading happily at one of his arms. 

“Time’s it?” Sam asks quietly. He sits up, and something pops audibly as he stretches his shoulders. 

“Coffee time,” Dean whispers back. 

He wants to make a snarky quip about how they’ve clearly been partying hard, but Sammy’s looking around the room with such a fond little smile on his face that Dean can’t bring himself to say anything. Instead, he just leads the way through the bunk area, out to the front, where Cas is watching the coffee drip slowly into the pot. 

Dean wraps his arms around Cas and nuzzles into his neck. It’s a good morning. 

***

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 14: Chula Vista, CA

Penelope is just about to get up for a gloriously self-indulgent shower (and if she uses all the hot water while the others are hitting snooze, that’s fully their problem) when there’s a knock on the door.

She peers through the peephole. It’s Dean, aka not at all who she expected. 

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” he says gruffly, when she opens the door. “Um… Spencer said he knows how to pick locks?”

Ooh, this is gonna be fun.  

“He sure does. What’s up?” 

“Um… we need to pick a lock,” Dean tries, and Penelope laughs. 

“Nice try. Gimme the dirty deets.” 

Dean sighs. “Jack is maybe handcuffed to the bed.” 

“No way,” Penelope says gleefully. “Okay, I will wake the boy wonder, hang on.” 

She ushers Dean into their room, shushing him and pointing to JJ and Emily, who are still asleep, before poking Spencer. 

“Are you sleeping in a kiddie pool?” Dean asks. 

“Mmph,” Spencer assents, rubbing his eyes. “M’comfy.” 

Penelope shrugs at Dean as if to say, what can you do? 

“So there is a bit of a situation I was hoping you could help with,” Dean says. “A lock picking situation? It’s, um, a pair of handcuffs.” 

Spencer doesn’t bat an eye, bless his heart. He just shrugs and unfolds himself from the kiddie pool, picking up his wallet from the desk. 

Penelope grabs a robe and her glasses, because while she wouldn’t ordinarily show her face while she’s still in pajamas, there’s no way in hell she’s missing this. Dean looks like he’s about to protest. 

“She’s my emotional support cyberterrorist,” Spencer tells him. “She’s coming.” 

“Excuse you, former cyberterrorist,” Penelope says, as dignified as she can manage while wearing a fuzzy zebra-patterned robe. “I prefer to think of myself as your fairy godmother.” 

“No teasing him,” Dean says sternly, but leads the way out the door. 

“You really trying to tell me you found the kid handcuffed to a bed and nobody is going to tease him about it?” 

“Well,” Dean amends, with a smug grin. “Nobody but his family is allowed to tease him. Don’t worry, though, we took pictures.” 

“Yeah, okay. That seems fair.” 

Dean leads the way into the Ceiling Fires’ suite and points them to one of the bedrooms. 

Penelope can hear Sam’s voice when they get to the open door: “I told you, they’re single-latch. You pull on those the wrong way, they’ll cut off your circulation and — oh, hey, guys.” 

Not only are they handcuffs, they’re handcuffs adorned with pink fluff. They’ve pulled a blanket up to Jack’s chest, but he’s clearly naked under it, and he’s blushing so hard he basically matches the handcuffs. 

“Good morning,” he says politely. 

Penelope gives him a cheerful wave. “Don’t mind me. Spencer’s here to rescue you.” 

Spencer is unfazed. He pulls a tiny flat case from inside his wallet and pulls out a couple picks. Sam and Dean are both watching him like hawks. Mother hens. Overprotective mother hawks? Something like that. 

It barely takes a second before the lock clicks open. 

Jack breathes a sigh of relief and rubs his wrists. “Thank you. Seriously.” 

“You gotta teach me that,” Sam says to Spencer. He grabs the handcuffs and lifts them between two fingers like they’ve personally offended him. 

“It’s easy once you understand the principle of it,” Spencer tells him, showing him the picks. “See, this pushes the tumbler—” 

“Where’d you go?” comes a low British voice from the main room, and then Harry motherfucking Styles is wandering through the door, wearing a turquoise silk kimono and holding a half-eaten slice of watermelon. “What on Earth are you doing with those? I have my leather — oh.” He looks from Penelope to Spencer, blinking. “I… don’t know you, do I?” 

“Shit,” Dean mutters. “When did you get here?” 

“Wee hours.” He takes a bite of watermelon, tongue-first, and chews slowly. 

Penelope is staring. She should really stop staring and say something cool. 

“You look sorta familiar,” Spencer offers, with a little wave. “Did you sell me E at a warehouse party in Boston a couple years ago? Cause I gotta say, that was a weird night.” 

“Pretty sure that wasn’t me,” he says pensively. “But stranger things have happened.” 

Harry goddamn Styles is licking juice off his fingers and dimpling in her general direction and this cannot be real life. 

“The watermelon is a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Penelope blurts out. Sam snorts from somewhere behind her. 

“They were all out of kiwis, I’m afraid,” Harry drawls. “You want some? More in the kitchen. Bananas, too, and—”  

“Hey, guys?” Jack interrupts, from where he’s got the covers pulled up to his chin. “Um… would you mind taking this outside so I can put some clothes on?” 

There’s a chorus of apologies. Spencer asks about coffee as they all start to filter out the door, and Penelope heads to the kitchen to eat watermelon with Harry Styles, because apparently this is her life now. 

.

.

.

[phoenixfeatherquill]

Midwinter (3/5)

AN:  More smut!

In Pelle’s dreams, he saw her dancing. 

It was the first time she smiled. No, that wasn’t right. She had smiled when he had given her the birthday sketch, touched that someone remembered her. That someone saw her. But while the smile had been sincere, it was tinged with Christian disappointing her. Christian hurting her. Even his art could not overcome that. 

But when she danced with her future handmaids, she forgot her pain. She was caught up in the embrace of his family, the exhilaration of the dance, and became…joyous. She laughed like a child, threw her hair back as she held the hands of her handmaids. Her laughter touched something deep inside Pelle and he knew in that singular moment that he wanted to make her laugh, make her smile, bring her joy…forever. And when her excitement disappeared, when she caught Christian’s disapproving gaze and her face fell…Pelle knew he wanted Christian to suffer. And suffer he did. 

But in this dream, it was not the violent music of the villagers that he saw Dani listen to. Instead, it was a woman’s voice, someone who sounded like his mother, singing a lullaby or a folk song from long ago. He realized with a jolt that it was the same song, but darker, slower, more melodic. And as Dani danced, a shadowy figure appeared and danced with her. The figure had hoofed feet and played the fiddle for her. He looked familiar to Pelle, like a younger version of his father, perhaps, but his eyes gleamed in the darkness. No, that wasn’t right…the eyes were burning like hot embers. The way the temple burned to the ground in front of them all last summer. But Dani was entranced and jubilant. 

The song was a popular folk song played all over Sweden, covered by everyone from metal bands to choirs. It told the tale of the devil disguising himself as a fiddler and leading a group of young women away from the comforts of their village into an eternal orgasmic dance until they fell to their feet. 

The Christian implications were clear. The Devil seducing wayward women who forgot their new God too easily. But for the Hårga, the meaning was obscured. The dark one, too easily defined by the Christians as the Devil, led the women in a willing sacrificial dance. They gave up their lives for the sake of the village, as was their way. And the dark one was not one half of a simplistic theological binary. He—or she, depending on the tale—was far more complex. The dark one represented the bloody darkness of sacrifice, of sexual desire, the pain of birth, the rot of and stink of decay, everything that was accepted and part of the life of the Hårga. Not as something to be feared or a punishment, but all part of a glorious dance. 

In his dream, he saw the fiddler dance with Dani. But instead of her falling to her death, the fiddler stopped his mysterious melody. He knelt before her and Pelle recognized the fiddler as himself—but shrouded in darkness with cloven feet. Dani touched the crown of his head. For she was the goddess. His goddess. 

Pelle’s eyes flicked open. Dani was nestled against his chest and his heartbeat sped as he looked at her. He dreamed of her as his May Queen, yes, but there was something more to the dream. The gods had sent it, surely. Dani was something more than their May Queen, their future leader. But what? 

He could not interpret dreams on an empty stomach. He wanted hot coffee and a large breakfast ready for Dani when she awoke. So he gently kissed her forehead and rolled away from her. She frowned in her sleep at the absence of his warmth and he stroked her head gently before heading downstairs. 

**** 

When Dani awoke, she was alone. 

She sleepily stretched out her arm, searching for Pelle’s warmth. She felt nothing but cold sheets and her eyes shot open. 

Winter sunlight flooded the master bedroom. She blinked blearily at her surroundings. Memories from last night flooded her mind, the black dress, the Hårga’s harmonies, Pelle’s tongue…heat filled her cheeks. 

She sat up a little and moved towards the left-hand window next to her bed. Snow blanketed the ground and frosted the trees. It looked like something out of a fairytale, out of Narnia. It was beautifully inviting and she felt the intense urge to walk around in it. She swallowed. Her family had died the night of a terrible snowstorm. Snow always seemed ominous and cruel. But here… 

She wrapped her blankets around her and she wondered again where Pelle went off to. Was he mad at her? Sometimes when she didn’t want to have sex but still wanted to cuddle with Christian, he’d get angry and leave in the middle of the night. She’d be too embarrassed to bring it up in the morning, and Christian would refuse to speak to her, icily drinking his coffee. This didn’t seem like something Pelle would do, but surely he’d heard Christian’s complaints… 

Dani hugged her knees and listened. She thought she could hear movement downstairs. “Pelle?” She called out tentatively. 

There was no response. She hugged her knees a little tighter and let the dread rise in her chest. 

Before panic could completely consume her, her door popped open and Pelle peered inside. 

“Did you call me?” He looked at her in concern, huddled in her blankets. “I was making you coffee. And some breakfast.” 

“I thought you might have left.” 

She winced—the words sounded pathetic out loud. But Pelle cocked his head, a little like a spaniel. 

“Go? Where would I go?” He teased. 

“I—I don’t know,” Dani mumbled. He went to her and sat on the corner of the bed. He touched squeezed her knee. 

“Sorry,” She rested her head on her knees. “I’m being paranoid. Christian would get mad at me if I didn’t—mornings would be awkward.”

Pelle frowned at that. “Why on earth would I be mad at you?” 

Dani combed her fingers through her hair. “I just don’t like waking up alone.” 

His eyes widened. She looked away from him in embarrassment. He came fully on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his warmth and the two of them fell softly onto the bed. 

“I will never let you wake up alone again,” He murmured in her ear. “I promise. Forgive me?” 

There was nothing to forgive. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. 

“Did you sleep all right?” He asked. “Would you like me to bring you your breakfast?” 

She nodded, still embarrassed. He held her warmly and stood, making his way out of the bedroom to retrieve it. 

He returned with a tea tray with a large silver coffeepot and thick white mugs. She noticed thin, dark slices of toasted bread on the tray and an assortment of spreads. She had been in Sweden long enough to recognize the fare, which included butter, cheese, thin slices of ham, pickles, cucumber, and tomatoes. 

“And something else,” Pelle said with a smile. He brought another plate that was stacked with waffles and Dani beamed. 

“I love waffles,” She took the plate and happily started eating. “My favorite food.” 

“I know.” 

Dani snorted. “Did Christian tell you that?” 

Pelle shook his head. “Do you remember when we first met?” 

She thought for a moment. Meeting Pelle? Honestly, meeting Christian’s friends had blurred together. She had seen them sporadically, the nights she spent at Christian’s apartment, the parties she accompanied him at. She didn’t remember the first time she met Pelle. 

“I know Christian introduced us,” She offered hesitantly. “But I don’t remember exactly when. Sorry.” 

Pelle shrugged. “I don’t expect you to. But I remember. It was after a…late night. Mark had dragged us all to a party across town. We stayed there till about 7AM. All I wanted to do was go back to my bedroom and sleep for the rest of time, but Christian wanted coffee and he didn’t want to go to the cafeteria by himself. He knew you’d be there and he didn’t want you to know where he’d been.” 

Dani frowned. Christian often told her that he’d had late night study sessions with the guys…it shouldn’t surprise her that this was less than accurate. 

“I hadn’t met you yet. I’d only been in the States for about a week—I arrived a little later in the semester…visa issues. I was heavily jetlagged, exhausted from the parties Mark dragged us to, and the last thing I wanted to do was cover for Christian.” Pelle grimaced at the memory. 

“But he insisted,” He stretched out onto the bed and took a piece of toast. “And we went into the cafeteria. All I wanted was coffee and the coffee machine was broken. I was muttering to myself in Swedish, so they wouldn’t know how irritated I was…and you came up to our table to say hi to Christian. You were wearing pajama pants, ones with little black bears on them. I thought you looked so cute.” 

“I was in my pajamas?!” Dani groaned a little. It was silly to be embarrassed by this reminiscence. But she was a college student after all, and no college student went anywhere before 10:00AM in anything but pajamas. 

“You were beautiful,” Pelle smiled at her and tugged a lock of her hair. “And you waxed poetic about how much you loved waffles, though your mother’s were better. I looked at you and Christian and thought about all the things Christian had said about you…and I felt angry. And jealous. For the first time, I was…envious of something he had. And I hated him for it.” 

Pelle had been…jealous? Of her? 

A draft made her shiver. “Was that—was that the reason you chose him? To come here?” 

He shook his head. “I chose him before I met you. But…the truth is, Dani, he made me so furious with him for how he treated you. I confess…I encouraged him to break up with you, along with Mark and Josh. But my reasons were entirely selfish.” 

A smile crept onto her face. “What, were you planning on asking me out if Christian had broken up with me?” 

“Certainly not,” Pelle stroked her back affectionately. “How could I ask the gods for such an honor? It would be like demanding the moon and stars come down and dance for me. No, I only wanted him to stop hurting you and treating you cruelly. But after you lost your family…well, I knew the only way to separate you both permanently would be our trip to Sweden. I never imagined he’d bring you as well.” 

Dani never imagined it either. She never intended on forcing Christian’s hand. She hadn’t particularly wanted to go to Sweden. But the way Christian had thrown it at her like a dagger, “if you’re so upset about it, you can come, I just didn’t want to invite you because you were going through so much!” He had expected her to turn him down. It felt good to take him up on the offer, to force him to tell the rest of his band that Yoko Ono was coming too. Even if she felt the rest of his friends’ displeasure acutely. 

Pelle ran his fingers through his hair and gazed up at the ceiling. “He nearly spoiled everything. I was…terrified that you were coming too.” 

She cocked her head towards him. Pelle’s admission was interesting. Like Josh and Mark, he hadn’t wanted her to come—but it seemed to out of a worry for her life, not because she was breaking up the band. 

“I can’t really say I’m sorry for it,” She admitted and Pelle laughed. 

“I’m a believer in a higher power, Dani,” He smiled at her in a tender way that made her heart ache. “When I learned that your birthday was over Midsommar…and the way you shone like the sun among my family…I knew you were sent here for a reason. I didn’t know what reason. I just knew I was the gods’ courier. And now…you are our May Queen. Nothing was coincidence.” 

Dani stared at him seriously. “What would have happened? If I were chosen to be sacrificed for Midsommar?” 

Pelle shook his head briskly. “Oh no. That would not have happened. Of this I am sure.” 

“But what if it had?” She persisted. “What would you have done?” 

He hesitated. It was because of Pelle that Mark, Josh, and Christian were all dead. The night Josh disappeared, Dani had woken up and seen both Josh and Pelle’s empty beds. She suspected Josh’s desperation to create a stronger thesis would lead him to do something reckless and she had no doubt that Pelle had distributed the consequences. She was no friend of Josh’s; he had considered her an annoyance and distraction of Christian’s. But when Christian had declared to him that the Hårga would now be his thesis…even Dani thought it was a scummy thing to do. 

“I would not have let it happen.” 

Pelle’s voice, so low and barely above a whisper jerked Dani out of her reminisces. She looked at him somewhat astonished. Pelle’s loyalty to his village was one of his distinguishing characteristics. It was an almost rebellious thing to say. And it seemed that he considered the statement selfish; pink tinged his cheeks and he averted his gaze in shame. 

He cleared his throat. “But it never would have happened. The moment Siv saw you…she sensed something about you. Everything aligned together. The day of your birth, Midsommar, your coronation…all of it was fated. You were fated to be our queen.” 

His eyes met hers. “My queen.” 

Heat coursed through Dani’s body. Pelle was looking at her that way, that heart-wrenching and tender way that made her feel short of breath. She felt the strong desire to kiss him again. 

 Well, why not? I am the May Queen, aren’t I? 

She brought her lips to his and she felt him gasp at her boldness. Last night it was Pelle who took control, who kissed her and apologized for taking the liberty. But she didn’t have to apologize. He was here to serve her, to adore her, to please her, and he seemed only to happy to oblige. She so loved how he tasted in the morning…a heady combination of dark coffee and sugar from the glazed rolls. 

Dani could feel him hardening against her and to her delight, it no longer made her anxious. It didn’t matter how much she turned him on, Pelle would never guilt her or get angry with her; whatever boundaries or limits she set for herself. The wild comfort of this made her kiss him even harder and run her fingers down his chest. 

She paused in her ministrations to observe him. He opened his heavy-lidded eyes and murmured, “Now I shall make you breakfast every morning.” 

She laughed and kissed him again. She wanted to taste him everywhere, the flavor of his cheekbones, the smooth curve of his neck, his lovely, golden chest. She pushed him down onto the bed and pinned his arms. He watched her in utter rapture. 

“I want you,” Dani admitted. “I haven’t…I haven’t wanted someone like this in a long time. Or I guess…I haven’t felt comfortable wanting someone like this in a long time.” 

His gaze was tender. “This is how it should be, Dani. This is how you should be loved. It…infuriates me that you’ve known anything else.”

She swallowed. “There’s something else.” 

Pelle raised an eyebrow. 

“When I have sex…sometimes it hurts. Most of the time it hurts, actually. My gyno called it ‘vaginismus’. I tense up and I can’t handle penetration. I was working with someone on it before—before my parents died, but…I just…” She looked away from him. “I’m embarrassed about it.” 

She released his arms and he immediately cupped her face. His finger stroked down her cheek, but she could not meet his gaze. 

“Did Christian know?” Pelle asked. 

“I told him,” Dani kept her eyes fixed on the bedspread. “I don’t think he believed me. He just said I was frigid and needed to relax. And then accused me of blaming him for our sex life being bad and I—it was just a mess.” 

She twisted a lock of her hair in anxiety. “But I wanted to tell you because—because I feel like you’re doing all the giving and I’m not—I’m not giving back.” 

“Oh, Dani,” Pelle sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re thinking about this all wrong. This isn’t a transaction. You are not a vending machine; I do not give you affection in exchange for sex. This is an expression of my feelings for you and yours for me. I told you truthfully last night; if you never wanted to have penetrative sex, that would be all right. You are my May Queen, my summer goddess, and I will worship you however you want.” 

She gazed at him levelly. “But what if I want to give back to you?” 

He smiled at her. “Then I will gladly receive. But on your terms. Within your boundaries. With the knowledge that you can stop if ever you should feel uncomfortable.” 

Dani stared at him as he ran his fingers through her hair. He tilted his head in a silent question. 

“I was just wondering how I got so caught up in Christian when you were right there.” She murmured and it made him laugh. 

“I didn’t exactly make my presence known,” He chuckled and gently flipped her over on her back. “But now, my queen…with your permission…” 

Pelle’s lips traced down her skin and lingered at her breasts. She was rather small-chested; another source of insecurity in her previous relationship (Christian had made no secret of his preference for women with bigger tits) but Pelle worshiped them reverently with his tongue. She cried out when his tongue flicked over her nipple and sucked gently. His teeth grazed over the sensitive buds and Dani curled her fingers into the sheets. How was his mouth so good? 

His fingers stroked down the length of her sides until she felt them approach her inner thighs. She took a deep breath and tried to force herself to relax—always a lost cause, relaxation could not be forced. But she so badly wanted to just let go and enjoy herself with Pelle… 

“Dani,” Pelle murmured in her ear. His fingers lazily circled her thighs, nowhere near her core. She looked up at him. 

“Do you remember when we went bowling?” 

She thought. “I think so?” 

“It was in the fall,” Pelle told her and she felt the tension leave her shoulders as he continued to massage her thighs. “But a hot fall day. There was a large group of us. Boys against the girls. You and a few friends, Mark’s girlfriend at the time, a girl I invited for an even number…you beat us soundly.” 

“I…do remember that,” She reached up to touch Pelle’s beard. “And the girl you brought. She was pretty.” 

He grinned at her. “Vivian. She was dating a girl named Andrea. But a very fun girl. She told me not to invite her to things with Mark and Christian again. But she knew how I felt about you. She teased me mercilessly, especially when you came in that little sundress…” 

Dani buried her head in his shoulder. “You remember what I was wearing?” 

“Of course. A little white sundress with sunflowers on it. It was very…distracting.” 

His voice became husky and his fingers traveled up her thighs, barely grazing her. Electricity swam through Dani’s veins as she tried to remember why she wore a sundress to a bowling alley. 

“Oh,” She whispered. “That was it. It was—it was my mother’s birthday. We took her out for Sunday brunch. I didn’t have time to change…I was really worried about the dress smelling like cigarette smoke…” 

“You sat next to me at one of the little tables,” Pelle’s fingers teased her inner folds, stroking in and out—not enough for her to tense. He was as gentle as butterfly wings and Dani began to feel heat travel up her core. 

“I was trying so hard not to stare at you,” Pelle bit her earlobe and she squeaked. “I could not believe Christian barely looked at you.” 

Dani remembered. “He was talking to the girl you brought. Vivian. She was wearing a crop top. She had all these tattoos…” 

“Vivian thought he was ridiculous,” Pelle sucked on her earlobe gently. “But she thought it was funny to keep him distracted while I talked to you. You were swinging your legs back and forth. You smelled like strawberries and mint and I was losing my mind.” 

His fingers delved deeper inside her and to Dani’s surprise, she did not experience that familiar twinge of pain. His voice had relaxed her; she was becoming flushed and heated at the memory of her sitting in a bowling alley, innocently driving Pelle crazy. 

“What did—what did you want to do to me?” She half-panted and Pelle groaned at the question. His fingers probed deeper but still so gently, backing off at any sort of resistance, circling her clit with each penetration. 

“I wanted to take you, right there on that sticky table. I wanted to knock off all the beers and kiss you until you were breathless.” To show her his point, he captured her lips and Dani moaned at the vivid image. 

“I wanted to make love to you in front of Christian. Have him see you screaming and wet; lick every inch of you until you were trembling. I wanted you to feel every inch of me and I wanted to see Christian’s face as I did it.” 

Dani’s back arched as Pelle’s fingers entered her more deeply. It didn’t hurt. She didn’t know if it was because she felt so relaxed and sated in Pelle’s arms or if it was his husky voice velveting every single word he spoke, but for the first time, it did not feel like violation. She ached for him. 

But not yet. While his fingers thrust within her, his thumb rubbed against her soaking clit and just as in his fantasy, Dani cried out hoarsely, waves of pleasure rocketing her forward. 

“It’s almost a shame he is dead,” Pelle whispered in her ear, thrusting his fingers inside and out, over and over. “I wish he could see you like this. I wish I could’ve done this to him before he died. But I’ll not lie to you my Queen, when you sentenced him to death, I smiled and praised the old gods for you.” 

Dani was gasping. She watched dazedly as Pelle pulled his fingers out of her sopping core and, looking her straight in the eye, tasted her off his fingers. She tried to say something but it only came out in a sated moan. He then kissed her again and she could taste her own salty-sweetness on her tongue. 

She leaned back on her pillows and tried to return to sanity, Pelle’s fingers lazily carding her hair.

[veryrealimagination]

Whumptober Day 3

Day No: 3

Prompt: STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT… Taunting | Insults| “Who did this to you?”

Fandom/OC: Superman & Lois

Medium: Fic

Trigger Warnings: barbed wire injuries, bruises from beatings, injury due to screaming and movement

SFW/NSFW

Additional Tags: Sequel to Day 1, more of an aftermath than active whump, but emotional whump is nice

His Mom had to be the one to approach him. Dad and Jordan were hanging back, and he knew that the necklace that someone had thrown on him was Kryptonite. “Jonathan,” she said, worried out of her damn mind even if she didn’t show it.

“Hey, Mom,” he croaked. His earlier screaming when the barbed wire dug in, his own body forcing the sharp points to dig all along his arms, scratched his throat to bits. “Wanna hang out with me?”

“Let me get this off and we can all ‘hang’ out.” There was a little stool setting off to the side, likely from Mr. Jones taking down his run down scarecrow. She pulled it over and stepped on it. The pendant was indeed glowing a sickly green, and Jonathan felt a little better after it was off of his chest. She pulled out a lead box and opened it to show multiple of the same necklace stashed away. She added the new one and shut it. “It’s safe.”

He heard superspeed before seeing Jordan directly at his right side. “Shit,” he hissed, looking at the damage.

“Language,” Dad muttered, having done the same thing to get to him. “At least it was just duct tape with me.” His eyes started glowing before his heat vision shot out. The wood developed a char streak as he went through the wire. Once he was at the end, Jonathan’s arm dropped down, cutting itself a few times with wayward barbs.

Jonathan let out of a bark of a yell, the new scratches and his arm throwing his weight off balance caused the barbed wire to dig into his other arm and legs. “Can I get a warning next time?” he complained.

“There is not going to be a next time!” Mom said.

“It’s fine,” Dad said. He started hovering a few inches off the ground. One of his arms wrapped around Jonathan’s chest, holding him up to keep him off the barbed wire. The other held onto his still bound arm. “Jordan, I want you to do the same thing with this arm. Then, cut through the ones on your brother’s legs. Okay?” Jordan nodded, then forced out his own heat vision to cut a wavy line down the wood. His arm came loose, but with his Dad supporting it, it didn’t cause the same issue as before. Then, the barbed wire around his legs came loose, and his Dad was sweeping it all away to gather him in his arms. Admittedly, it felt nice being curled up on his Dad’s chest.

Mom carefully checked the wounds while the three of them walked back to the truck. Immediately, she took the driver’s seat to leave Dad shuffling around with Jordan to where all three of them could fit on the seats. Jonathan would let them know after that he had no recollection of holding onto his Dad’s sleeve to stop them from just laying him on the seat. After five minutes of trying to coax him down, the man carefully seated himself in the bed of the truck, Jonathan wholeheartedly collapsed on him.

Jordan held the door open while Mom went for the first aid kit and Dad carried him in. It was only when they were settled on the couch that she pulled out her questions. “What happened?”

He shrugged while wincing at peroxide being spread on his wounds. “A few guys got pissed off. Tied me like a scarecrow.”

“What few guys?” she asked. He kept his gaze down, watching her wipe over most of his arms. “Jonathan, who did this to you?”

“Just some guys,” he mumbled. Both of his parents stared down at him. “Some of the opposite team.”

“Cutter,” Jordan figured out, hissing his name as a nasty curse.

“The Metropolis team was here?” Dad asked. Normally, he was on top of the Football team stuff, but Superman had to stop two separate robberies in the city today and he let the kids know how sorry he was for having to miss the game.

“Yeah, and we managed to beat them twenty-one to sixteen. Cutter wasn’t happy and Eliza was in the stands,” Jordan said, “She saw us and walked away from Cutter when he tried going for an aftergame kiss.”

“I was stupid and split off from the group when we were celebrating,” Jonathan said. Now, his Mom was wrapping the wounds with antiseptic and gauze, given the amount of scratches and gouges he had. He knew he was going to have to get at the ones on his legs, but he didn’t really want to drop his jeans around his parents. Not since he was four. “They threw me in the trunk of one of their cars and drove me around, banged my head a few times. I don’t know where they picked up the necklace from.”

“A few of the stores in Smallville used to sell Kryptonite before the Government started warning them about radiation. Whenever it appears, the military usually confiscates it,” Dad said, “The meteor shower that happened when I arrived brought tourism for a few years before it died down. People wanted pieces of another world.”

“Your Grandfather saw someone selling some as souvenirs during the game,” Mom said.

“Grandpa was pissed. He chewed out the teen selling them before calling someone at the DOD to confiscate everything she was holding,” Jordan smiled. Jonathan chuckled along side him but hissed when his Mom hit something along his arm. A particular long gash curved around his muscles. “That looks deep.”

“It was, at one point,” Dad said, taking his own look at it. She wrapped it after he nodded.

“All right, pants off,” she directed, finishing his arms.

“Mom,” he whined.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. Now, we need to clean them before they get infected.”

“Jordan, go get your brother some pajamas, please,” Dad said, trying to get the snickering teen out of the room. He turned to see his wife trying to coax their son up. Moving back over, he held a hand out to lift him up. Jonathan took it, leveraging himself up. With an embarrassed look at the two of them, he undid his jeans.

“Oh my god.”

The barbed wire had dug into his arms, but was mainly scratches. His legs had multiple gouges from the pressure that was placed on them. However, there were bruises up and down his legs that didn’t match anything from tackles earlier in the evening. “From the trunk?” Dad asked.

Jonathan looked down, unable to meet either of their eyes. “Not exactly,” he mumbled.

We gave you the starting Quarterback position and you’re playing second string to your freak of a brother.

Superstar gonna died in this tiny little town.

What a fucking waste.

Mom started cleaning, doing her best to be quick and thorough. “I’m talking with Detective Hanover back in Metropolis, see about getting assault charges on those boys,” she said.

“Mom.”

“They would have been Jonathan’s friends if we had stayed in Metropolis,” Jordan said, laying down the clothing he grabbed from his brother’s room. He felt uneasy, remembering some of the stuff he was hearing during the aftergame party.

“I would not have allowed them in our house.”

“They’re Metropolis’s football team. Nothing will come of it,” Dad warned. His parents hadn’t pressed charges against the guys that taped him. Their parents had grounded them, somewhat, after finding out about their ‘prank’. His parents had been trying to be helpful, but he knew that it led to increased tension between him and the team.

“Clark, not helpful.”

“Mom, I’m just gonna forget about it,” Jonathan said, “Dad’s right, they’re not going to do anything about it.” They had finished cleaning and wrapping everything, so he managed to get the bottoms on by himself before going to the bathroom to switch his shirt. Jordan disappeared after his brother, while Clark went outside with Lois.

[petertingle-yipyip]

Why Pt 2 - Sweet Pea

// Part One // Highly requested: see tags below to know by who//

//Tags: @southsidearchive​  @wayward-river​ @reblogserpent​ @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​ @nicole13letson​ // Warnings: Mild language, angst, underage drinking //

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Word Count: 2,211

Summary: Y/N and Sweet Pea both want to same thing, but both are hurting because of the other. Can they find common ground to build a relationship or will they let it all go?

You didn’t know how much time passed between the last time you talked to Sweet Pea, that night where he stood in your trailer and said he was wrong. In all the years you knew Sweet Pea, you had only heard him apologize to Fangs the night he got shot. Sweet Pea apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. The only difference between then and now was that this actually was his fault.

Despite what time passed, you didn’t feel better. If anything, you felt worse. It seemed like now that you two were definitely not talking, you saw him more and more. FP tried to send you two on runs together, but he managed to wiggle his way out of it. Your teachers tried to partner you together but you convinced them otherwise. If you knew Sweet Pea was going to be at a hangout, you’d suddenly feel sick and couldn’t make it.

Maybe it was extreme. Maybe it was unnecessary. But every time you saw him, you got a tight feeling in your chest. You couldn’t tell if you were sad, angry, or lonely.

He was the one to talk to you first. You were at a party outside Jughead’s trailer. You couldn’t remember what it was for. You weren’t even sure anyone told you. All you cared about was free beer.

“Y/N.” His voice came from behind you. You turned so quick you nearly spilled your drink. “Are you alright?”

“No.” You hiccuped. “You wanna know a secret?”

“You’re drunk.” He sighed in disappointment.

“Nooo.” You smiled lazily. “I’m actually ho-“ You tried sliding your free hand under his shirt, but quickly caught your wrist.

“We’re not doing this.” He shook his head.

“You didn’t mind last time.” You slurred, attempting a wink.

“Sounds like you had enough.” He said gently, pulling the cup from your fingers and putting it on a nearby table. “Let’s get you home.”

“Only if you’re staying.”

“You actually want me around?”

“No.” You giggled. “But you’re reeeeeeally good looking and I want to forget.”

Sweet Pea sighed gently, discarding his own drink so he could focus on helping you. He slid an arm around your waist as he guided you to your own trailer. He could smell the beer on your breath and had to stop every few steps to get your back on your feet. You muttered nonsense about being mad still but Sweet Pea couldn’t tell if you were ranting about him since you kept complaining about a snake that rode a giraffe, “a giraffe with snakes on its back” was your exact words.

Sweet Pea helped you into bed, removing your jacket and shoes. You managed to get out of your jeans, but absolutely refused your pajama shorts. You whined for him to stay, pursing your bottom lip and tugging on his hand. But Sweet Pea said he wasn’t going to stay, that it wouldn’t be right for him to stay while you were wasted.

You huffed in annoyance, rolling around so you wouldn’t face him anymore. You loudly complained about him abandoning you again, yelled that you still weren’t enough for him. Soon after your beer-fueled tantrum, you were asleep. You didn’t know if the daydreams were worse than the regular dreams.

In your dreams, Sweet Pea was everything you wanted or needed him to be. He was the Serpent that everyone knew him to be, but he was so much more. You had dreams of having dinner dates at Pop’s, late nights at La Bonne Nuit. You had dreams of riding your bikes to Greendale just to get out of town. And there was no way around the dirty dreams, reliving the one night of pure lust and pleasure.

But there was no future between you two, simply because you didn’t feel that Sweet Pea really wanted to be with you romantically. 

Sweet Pea knew nothing could be farther from the truth. He wanted to stay with you, to hold you in his arms as you slept. To be there when you woke up with a hangover. But he also recognized that it might not be his place to be there right now. So he called Fangs, asked him to come check in on you in a bit, and went home.

He couldn’t sleep that night, not that he was sleeping much in the 16 days since you last spoke. Sweet Pea hasn’t meant to keep track, but every day he saw you but didn’t talk to you felt like another knife in his heart. He hated that he had messed things up so bad. He hated that he had practically lost you, as a friend and as anything more.

What little sleep he could find was littered with images of you. Things as simple as your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you knew the answer in class. Things as sweet as the smell of your perfume, the sound of your favorite song. Things he missed like your fingers running through his hair, his name leaving your lips. 

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache. You found two Advil pills and a glass of water on your bedside table. You quickly took the medicine before you pulled a hoodie on along with your shorts. You pulled the hood up and tightened the strings to keep as much sun out as you could. There was a note from Fangs, saying he hoped you had survived and that you had to thank Sweet Pea for getting you home.

You decided not to talk to Sweet Pea, simply for the fact that you didn’t want to open that door again. That door always ended up with you getting hurt. When you slept with him, when you talked to him that night. So, you nursed your hangover while you worked on your lines some more. It was hard to not reach out and at least thank him for getting you home, but you had a feeling that it would invite a conversation that you didn’t want to address at the time

A few nights later, you were with your friends down by the quarry. You were sitting by the water’s edge, your feet dangling in the cool flow. You were laughing at something stupid Toni said when Sweet Pea sat beside you. You had tried to ignore him but when he spoke, your blood ran hot.

“You’re avoiding me.” Sweet Pea said casually, leaning back on his hands. He turned head to you and offered a cheap smile.

You rolled your eyes and laughed slightly. “Oh fuck off. We’ve been avoiding each other for weeks, maybe even months. Why does it bother you now?”

Maybe being cruel was the only way to protect your already hurting heart.

“How have you been?” He ignored your comment.

“Feeling used whenever I see you.” You shrugged, giving in to the deep need to get out all of your pain. “But... And I hate to say it, still missing you. I can't see the end of this, this game we keep playing with each other. We keep doing this stupid run-around and for what?”

“I meant what I said that night, Y/N. We don’t have to play games with each other, not anymore”

“Yeah, I bet you did.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Am I just supposed to flip the switch and act like you’re the love of my life?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do you honestly think that I haven’t thought about you?” You asked, your eyes squinted in accusation. “Do you honestly think that I could go on like nothing is wrong? I have been thinking and thinking and trying to figure out what I want us to be.”

“What have you been thinking about?”

“I just wanna feel your kiss against my lips and now all this time is passing by, but I still can't seem to tell you why it hurts me every time I see you. I can’t even sleep without the thought of you haunting me.”

“I never should’ve-”

“Apologies aren’t going to change what happened, Sweet Pea.” You sighed. “I get it. You know that what you did wasn’t fair. I appreciate that you’re trying to make things right but I honestly don’t care for your apology.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Y/N, please.”

“You don't care, you never did!” You said firmly, aggressively pointing to the ground to make a point. “You don't give a damn about me.”

“How is it you never notice that you are slowly killing me?” Sweet Pea snapped, gesturing dramatically to the side with both arms. “Every day that you walk around and ignore me is hell. I know that I fucked up, but goddammit Y/N, how is doing the same thing going to help either of us? I fucking love you and you act like you don’t even know me.”

“Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” You laughed.

“Just tell me the truth, Y/N.” He gave up. Sweet Pea knew he wasn’t helping the situation by egging you on, throwing gas on your fire. So, he stopped fighting. “If you honestly want me to leave you alone, I won’t bring it up again and we’ll go back to pretending neither of us give a shit about each other.”

“I hate you.” You said sadly, shaking your head in denial. You didn’t want to feel the way you did. You didn’t want to hate him, but you had thought if you had said it, you’d mean it.

“You don't mean that.” He said quickly. “Please, tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Sweet Pea, what do you really expect me to say?”

“I love you.” He shrugged. “And I hate that I love you. I hate it because it scares the shit out of me. I didn’t feel like this with Josie so when it came to you, it was all new to me.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” You asked tiredly. “I ignored you, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but I was reciprocating your energy. You were avoiding me so I didn’t reach out cause I didn’t fucking feel wanted.”

“Last time I tried to talk to you and I told you how I felt,  you kicked me out.” He countered. “How’s that for unwanted?”

“We don’t work, Sweet Pea.” You sighed. “You and I… Maybe there just shouldn’t be a you and I.”

“We can make it work.” He tried to convince you. The near pleading tone he had almost made you give in, almost had you convinced that you two could have a chance. “If we both want it, we’ll figure it out.”

“We’ve done nothing but argue since we started talking to each other.” You sighed tiredly. “It’s exhausting.”

“People fight.” He tried to reason.

“Not like this.” You shook your head sadly. “I’m sorry. I just don’t see an outcome where we don’t grow to resent each other.”

“Everything okay over here?” Fangs asked carefully, coming up to the two of you from the water.

“Everything’s great.” You offered a wide, fake smile before jumping to your feet. “I just remembered I have to get home. I think Kevin wanted to Facetime to run some lines together.”

“Y/N, hold on.” Sweet Pea tried. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. “Let’s just go back to avoiding each other, yeah? That’s how we work best.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.”

“It’s not fair?” You asked, shrugging slightly. “Tell me about it. Hey Fangs.”

“Please don’t put me in the middle.” He sighed.

“Don’t do this.” Sweet Pea said at the same time.

“Is it fair to sleep with someone, ignore them for weeks, and then come to their house in the middle of the night to apologize and say that they wanted you the whole time but didn’t know how to cope with their own feelings?”

“You two hooked up?” Toni asked, now beside Fangs to watch your resparked argument with Sweet Pea.

“Is it fair to kick that person out and then drunkenly ask them to spend the night because they wanted to ‘forget’? And then the next time they try to talk to you, you tell them you want them still but you don’t think you’d work together?” Sweet Pea added.

“I never asked you to spend the night.” You said defensively.

“That night I took you home.” He said simply. “You said you didn’t want me around. You just wanted to forget.”

“You’re lying.” You shook your head. “I didn’t ask you to stay.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged, sliding from the ledge to the water. “You want to act like this, fine. If this is really the game you wanna play, go ahead.”

“Wait, Pea.” Toni said, following her friend as he headed deeper into the water and away from you.

“What the hell just happened?” Fangs asked you.

You shrugged slightly, putting your hands out to your side before letting them drop dramatically to your sides. “It looks like I just broke up with someone I was never dating.”

[emgkheadcannons]

Halloween Costume

It’s the first day of October when Kelly starts adding Halloween decorations around Em’s house. The older rapper has seen Kelly’s house all decked out for fall, and even helped with putting some of the Halloween stuff out, last time they were there. He was expecting the transformation of his house to be gradual, like Kelly was when he added things for fall, but no.

Em woke up that morning to see that Kelly wasn’t in bed. The older rapper almost always woke up before his boyfriend, so him not being there was strange. Getting out of bed, Em went to the bathroom to take a piss and brush his teeth before he hunts down his wayward blond. When drying his hands, he notices that the towels are new. After a closer look, Em notices the dancing skeletons on the border.

As he makes his way down stairs Em notices more decoration. Overnight there were little bats and ghosts all over his house. There were new pumpkins on his steps. Jack-o-lanterns of all kinds, on the main floor. A set of skeletons posed like they were dancing, on a hall table.

Em starts to worry about what he has gotten himself into. He finally finds Kelly in the kitchen (also with new décor in it) cooking something. He walks up behind the blond, wrapping his arms around his waist, startling Kelly.

“You’ve been busy Princess.” 

The blond turns around in his arms and has an apron over his pajamas. “Yeah. I was so excited for October I woke up early and started decorating.” 

When Kelly turns back to the stove, Em peeks around him to see he is cooking a giant omelet. 

“I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but since you are ready up, I guess we can just eat down here. Mind grabbing the plates? It’s almost done.”

Em kisses the spot between Kelly’s shoulder blades, before grabbing plates and utensils. While Kelly serves up the food, Em notices that the apron he is wearing looks kinda like a witch’s dress.

As they eat breakfast, they chat about their plans for the day, and other things that come to mind. About halfway through Kelly brings up Halloween.

“Em what do you want to dress up as for Halloween?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have anything in mind for your costume this year?”

“I was just going to be the same thing as last year.”

“What was that?” Kelly asks, with a frown.

“Me.”

“You dress up as yourself.”

“Yeah.”

“Dude that’s not a costume. It’s lazy and lame.” Kelly says with exaggerated hand gestures. 

Em starts to get defensive. “What do you mean lame?”

“Like you can be anything, and you just put on your normal clothes. You're not even another version of yourself. Like you could play up the rap god thing, or like you from a music video, but no.” Realizing the blond wasn’t intentionally insulting him, more his unimaginative ‘costume’, Em relaxes a bit, but is still a little mad.

“Listen Kelly. I get that you love Halloween, but for me it’s only okay.” Em states snippety. 

“What?” Kelly whispers.

“I like the spooky and scary, but I’m not into the whole dress up part.”

“Oh okay.” Kelly gets a sad look on his face, and looks back down at his food, pushing it around his plate.

Now frustrated Em asks, “Why? What’s the big deal?” 

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Kelly says as he grabs his plate, having lost his appetite. He moves to stand when Em grabs his elbow.

“Stop it. Why are you upset?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Don’t care.”

Sighing Kelly sets his plate back down. “Fine. I thought we could go out together to parties and stuff, and if we are in costumes then few people bother us and stuff.”

Em thinks about what Kelly just said. The blond basically wanted to go out with Em, and not be bothered by people.

“Alright Princess. I will dress up this year, but only on a few conditions. One you have to come up with the costumes. Two, I have the right to veto stupid ones. Three, if this is shit I don’t have to do it next year. Four, we will try it out at Uncle Elton’s party. Sound fair.”

Looking Em in the eye, Kelly looks a little less upset. “But you really don’t want to do it. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to.”

“Yeah but you are, and this way you have to deal with all the hassle. Who knows I may not mind it now, since it’s been years since I dressed up.” Em doesn’t say but thinks ‘I will make you happy dumbdumb.’ Also the idea of his blond going out with someone else puts a sour taste in his mouth.

Kelly lets a small smile grace his face. “It’s a deal.”

******

Coming up with the perfect costume for EM is hard. Kelly has been racking his brain for days trying in vain to think of the perfect costume.

He was thinking of maybe Spider-man, but it’s over done, and the mask can be uncomfortable. Same problem with most horror movie monsters. The Punisher was another idea, but Kelly wanted to be able to dress up as something to complement Em’s costume. 

The idea of Em as Batman wasn’t bad, and he could go as Superman, or even Catwoman. Em would probably love him in a leather catsuit, but the goal was to get Em to wear the costume out, and that wouldn’t happen if he wears that.

They could go as Alucard and Tevor Belmont from the Netflix show, but would Em be okay with a couples costume. 

He could wimp out, and do a Rap God thing for Em, and he could go as the Devil, but he really didn’t want to. 

Kelly sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone for inspiration, turns on the tv for some background noise. He looks up to see what is on, and Kelly sees the perfect costumes for him and Em. He quickly starts looking up websites for the things he will need, while the movie plays in the background. 

******

It will be a little trick to get Em to agree to the costume, but Kelly has a plan. He waits until everything for both of their costumes arrive, about mid October. He picks a day where Em is going to be in his office, so he won’t be interrupted while getting ready. 

Kelly starts by getting his nail painted red then jumps in the shower, making sure to use the soap with the scent Em loves, then shaves basically everything but the hair on top of his head. Kelly steps out of the shower nice and clean, and now smooth. After toweling off, and putting lotion, he moves to the makeup he bought especially for this. First the white powder, to make his skin super light, like a dead body, next the eyes. Black eyeliner, black eyeshadow in his crease, and finished up with some black mascara. He darkens his eyebrow, and then uses the finishing spray to set everything, saving the lipstick for later.

Kelly walks into the bedroom, to the clothes he laid out on the bed. Grabbing the black panties, he slides them up, over his legs, until they are sitting perfectly on his hips, before doing the same with the stockings, he got. Finally Kelly moves to his actual costume. It was hard to find one for someone his height which is kinda ironic considering who he was dressing up as. He unzips the back, steps into the slinky, black material, pulling it up, before putting his arm through the long sleeves. Kelly struggles a little zipping up the back, but gets it. The blond checks himself out in the mirror, making sure everything looks right, and is pleased seeing no panty lines in his skin tight dress. He tugs at the deep v neck line a bit, and once satisfied he grabs the wig and wig cap. Getting them on is easy, getting them to sit how he wants is hard. The long black hair gives him some trouble but, Kelly eventually gets it how he wants, pins it in place. Going back to the bathroom, Kelly lines his lips and puts on his bright red lipstick, double checking his makeup before leaving.

All Kelly needs now is his shoes. He chose his black Louboutin heels. No one will see them under his floor length dress but Em will know once he tells him and that will be a point in his favor. 

Kelly makes his way to Em’s office. Knocking softly, waiting for the okay to enter. 

When he enters the room, Em doesn’t even look up from his notepad, to ask him what he wants.

Smirking Kelly opens his mouth, and using the velvety voice, he asks, “Gomez, dear, are you almost done?”

Snapping his head up, Em is gobsmacked. Whatever he was going to say dies in his throat as he took in Kelly’s appearance. The sleek black dress hugs the blonde’s slender form beautifully, the long black wig frames his face making his deep red lips stand out even more.

Walking over to his boyfriend, Em notices that Kelly is even taller than normal. 

Em grabs the back of Kelly’s neck, bringing him down for a kiss.

“The Addams family. I like the idea.”

******

Later that evening , Kelly's costume is strewn around their bedroom, both are on bed, in a post-coital cuddle.

“So you are going as Morticia?”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m going to be Gomez?”

“Yeah.”

“What about my beard?”

…

“Fuck.”

[ssa25]

Naruhina2020 (Jan) - Firsts

@naruhina2020

Rating - T

They were huddled next to each other in the loveseat of Hinata's shared apartment with Sakura. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, with her pink haired roommate locked up in her bedroom, nose deep into her textbooks for the ongoing exams. Hinata was already done with hers the previous week, so now she could focus on her boyfriend of two months. 

Uzumaki Naruto, was grinning like a cheshire cat, after Hinata had answered his question. They were talking and sharing about their firsts. Every little or insignificant firsts. 

From their first preschool, first part time job, first vacation, to their first best friend, first memorable gift and first movie. Although they went to the same middle and high school, they went around in different circles. Sometimes the circles merged and coincided, but they were still only more than acquaintances. 

They got significantly closer when they went to the same university, and when she started living with Sakura. In their sophomore year, Naruto asked Hyuuga Hinata out on a date, after Sakura drunkenly spilled at a party about how her meek flatmate had a major crush on him. She agreed ecstatically and he thanked his destiny for the turn of events. Because now, he was positively crazy about his midnight haired gorgeous (and hella sexy) girlfriend. Seriously, this was beyond imagination. The loud wayward soccer playing blonde and the prim proper posh heiress?

Anyway, Naruto being Naruto, asked her about her first crush. He didn't have to answer  the question himself, because she already knew the answer to it. It was her flatmate and good friend, Haruno Sakura. He was a pre-teen and she was one of his neighbours. It just happened, but eventually he moved on from those feelings as they became close friends. 

For Hinata, it was not the best feeling in the world to be aware of it, but she was above feeling petty or jealous. Especially now that he was her boyfriend. 

The petite curvy woman blushed profusely when it was her turn to answer the question. Her legs bent over Naruto's lap, as she fidgeted and replied in a small voice. 

"It was you."

Naruto was still for a second. "I'm sorry?" 

She huffed cutely and repeated her answer at the same time that he blurted out his confusion.

"It was you." 

"Did you say it was me??!!" 

If Naruto wasn't already feeling comfortable and smug, now he was superbly comfortable and obnoxiously smug. 

"Woah woah woah Missy, you never told me about that. You've been holding out, haven't you?" 

Okay, so now she was flustered and folded her arms to defend herself. "N-no…. You never asked me… I-It never came up before…"

He put his arm over her calves to squash any chance of escape. 

"When was this?", he interrogated.

"Umm…. When we were 13-14….Maybe…", she replied shyly. 

"Interesting.", he hummed and scratched his prickly chin. "Hold on… Is that why you sometimes used to faint when I spoke to you??", he asked wondrously, as if it all came together in his mind in a eureka moment. 

Hinata covered her face with her hands and nodded her head. "Can we please talk about something else?" 

"Hmm….", he leered at her. "Well, sure, it must've been impossible to resist my charm…", he commented refusing to change the topic. 

She smacked his arm playfully and pouted. "You're impossible… I don't think I'm good for your ego…." 

He pulled her closer by her waist and bumped her nose with his. 

"No baby, you're perfect for my everything.", he said in that deep husky baritone that made her spine tingle. 

Their lips found each other in a passionate kiss that had them both drowning out their surroundings. So when they heard a loud bang of a door, Hinata pulled away from his puckered lips to gasp for air and looked at the perpetrator. 

"Sorry, I was worried that he would gobble you up alive.", Sakura commented from the bedroom door with a poker face. Her short pink hair was unruly and tangly, and she was still in her pajamas from yesterday. She went to the kitchen while muttering something about ungrateful people showing off their relationship to lonesome singles. 

Naruto and Hinata snickered and cuddled closer. 

"Hey Sakura, ya know?... Hinata had the hots for me even in middle school…", he boasted while Hinata tried to cover his mouth with her palms. 

"Good for you.", Sakura commented nonchalantly as she went back to her room with a can of lemon soda.

As soon as her door closed, Naruto turned Hinata's chin towards him and continued their make out. They had been dating for a little less than two months, and had only gotten to second base. Not that he was complaining. He was serious about this relationship and he didn't want to rush Hinata into doing something she wasn't sure of. But it was just oh-so-hard to keep his hands off her.

She had mentioned about her being a virgin a week or two back. So he knew, if he did things right, he would be her first lover. For him, unfortunately, that train had departed two years back, when he and Sasuke were invited to their first soccer match after party that was off the hook crazy. They both had lost their virginity that night. 

Not to each other! Thank God for that! 

Some horny seniors found them cute and wanted to congratulate them. Personally. 

Hinata was a little shocked and flustered when he told her that. But she didn't hold it against him. 

When they parted for air again, he moved his hand from the swell of her voluptuous chest under her shirt to the smooth skin at her waist. Dejectedly of course, he had to calm his hard-on. 

He cleared his throat to distract her attention from his condition. 

"So, safe to say, that since I am your first crush and your first boyfriend, I must be your first kiss too.", he concluded smugly. 

"W-w-what?!!", she suddenly looked nervous. Not blushing nervous but pale, drained out of blood nervous. 

"Your first kiss…", he repeated. "Must be me… Right?"

"Uh… Y-yeah…", she replied in an oddly high pitched tone that was not her at all. She abruptly got up from the seat and walked to the kitchen. 

"I'm thirsty… Y-you want a drink Naruto~kun?"

Naruto  narrowed his eyes at the retreating back of his girlfriend. Something was not right. From what he knew about her, she was bad at lying. He knew this first hand, from the few times her conservative and strict father would inopportunely call her during their date or private make out time. And she would horribly lie with some lame excuse in the similar high pitched tone like she had used just now. Either her dad did not know her at all or was just bad at reading people and emotions, because he bought it everytime. 

Naruto got up from his seat and followed her, cornering her against the refrigerator. 

"Come on, spill it.", he said caging her between his arms. 

"Spill what?", she tried to act clueless.

"Who was your first kiss?", he was unrelenting in his pursuit. That's how he has always been.

"Umm… Who was yours?", she tried to flip it towards him. 

He knew what she was doing. But he was not going to let her off so easily. He would get her question out of the way first. 

"You know it. You were there. I'm not going to talk about it anymore than that." 

Hinata giggled into his chest, when she remembered the hilarious moment from few years back. Kiba had pushed Naruto jokingly onto Sasuke at the canteen which had led to a lip smack of sorts that left a distaste in the mouths of the two. It was a spectacle for the whole school. Suffice to say, Kiba earned a black eye and a sore jaw, while Naruto and Sasuke were in detention for the whole week.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. But I'm not letting you off easily. Who was it?"

It didn't bother him that she had already had her first kiss. What got to him, was her reaction at the reminder of it. Was it that memorable? Was the guy a better kisser than him? Does she have some remnant feelings for him? 

"I…. I can't tell you… It's embarrassing…", she muttered unsurely. 

But the more she held out, the more curious he became. He would have to coax it out of her. 

"Come on babe….It can't be more embarrassing than mine…. Who is it?... Tell me… Is it someone I know?"

Hinata grew silent for a few seconds before nodding her head slowly. 

"Someone from our group of friends?" 

Again, she gave a small nod. 

Okay, may be he was not going to be okay after all. Now, his mind went into overdrive thinking about who it could be. She was not saying anything, so he had to start guessing. 

"Was it Kiba?" 

She shook her head. 

"Shino?" 

Again, a negative. 

"Don't tell it's the bastard… It's Sasuke, isn't it?"

"What? No!!"

"Then tell me who it was, unless you want me to go crazy thinking about it.", he grasped her shoulders and brought her closer. 

Hinata pushed him away gently and moved away to face her back towards him. She just could not say it to his face. 

She started explaining softly, but it was loud enough for him to hear. "I… I-it was at the sleepover party for Sakura's 16th birthday… We were playing truth or dare… It was my turn, and I had to choose dare because I had been playing safe with truth until then… Tenten already knew that I liked you…. But the other didn't… So she just asked me to french kiss someone who was blonde for one whole minute… She knew that you were Sakura's neighbour… The girls said they would help me get into your home… So they did.. And they had to also make sure I completed my dare… I was really really nervous…. When we got into the back garden, we saw you from the window that you were busy playing video games with Sasuke, Shikamaru and Chouji."

Naruto felt like his heart was about to burst from all the mystery. But she did say that it was not Sasuke, which means it must have been Shikamaru or Chouji then. 

He didn't interrupt her, so she continued. 

"We waited for you to go to the toilet  or something… I had made up my mind to do the dare, come what may… The girls even tried to discreetly throw pebbles at the window, but you never got up to check. Only Sasuke did. We hid from his view and waited for him to go back. After trying everything for almost half hour, we decided it might not happen. Tenten said it was not fair that I didn't do my dare. So she insisted that I kiss any other blonde. And… W-well…. Umm… There was someone blonde with us… Ino… She said I could kiss her…. And just to get it over with, I did… It was…. Uncomfortable… A little unpleasant…. But not a lot, of course not… It was Ino after all… She had a clean minty mou-"

Hinata stopped her rant when she heard a loud thud behind her. Naruto fainted and fell on the floor. 

"Naruto~kun!!!!", she screamed and ran to his side and shook his body. "Naruto~kun!!" 

"Are you guys f*cking in the middle of the day?!! ", Sakura shouted angrily as she came out of her room. 

"Sakura~san!!", Hinata called her for help. "Naruto~kun has fainted… Please help him…." 

Sakura instantly was by his side, checking for his vitals. She asked Hinata to get some water. But when she noticed the tiny trail of blood from his nose, she grew worried. She looked down his body, and was aghast to see the reason. 

The tent under his cotton joggers was unmistakable. She snarled and got up just to kick him on his sides.

"F*cking Pervert!!", she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Naruto~kun!!", Hinata who was horrified, kneeled down to protect him, and unintentionally spilled the mug, in the process. 

If the kick didn't awaken Naruto, the splash of cold water on his groins definitely did.

A/n: Wrote and posted it fro my phone. So apologies for the length and absence of 'Read more' option.

[katymacsupernatural]

The Company Christmas Party

Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: Twelve Days of Ficmas hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr​ and @the-minus-four​

Day 7 Christmas Work Party

Warnings: A little angst

Taking the offered beer, you sat down beside Rachel, sighing heavily. “Why did I let you talk me into this again?”

She sipped at her martini, eying the room. “Because it’s our work’s Christmas party. And they treat us like shit the rest of the year, so it’s worth racking up a hefty bar tab for them to pay.” 

You watched as your boss, Brian, danced what seemed to be a salsa on the floor, his toupee barely staying in place. You hated everyone here, everyone except Rachel, and wanted to be home. Dressed in your comfy pajamas, watching another sappy Hallmark Christmas movie on TV. “But we hate these people,” you muttered. “And I had a nice six-pack of beer back at my place.” 

“Yum, beer,” Rachel made a face before slyly waving at Don from accounting who stood in the corner. “Listen, I know you’re not the party girl, but I needed you here. As my wingman. I think tonight’s the night I’m going to do it. I’m going to make a move on Don.” 

You had known it was coming. They had been making eyes at each other for weeks now, and you just wanted it over. So you smiled at her, raising your beer. “I’m going to go freshen up, and then I’ll do it. You might be heading home by yourself tonight.”

“Go get him, tiger,” You answered, taking a healthy swig of your beer as she headed down the hallway, leaving you to carefully watch Fred, who had always had a thing for you. But he was ten years your senior with greasy hair and a home in his Mother’s basement. 

When minutes ticked by and your beer became empty, you began to wonder where Rachel had taken off to. Don was still in the corner, glancing at his watch. Brian had started a congo line, and Fred was making his way over to you. You quickly decided to head after your friend, heading down the hallway, checking your phone as you turned right.

Your momentum stopped as you ran into something, someone tall and strong. Your phone fell to the floor as you struggled to stay on your feet. “Whoa, are you okay?” A deep baritone voice exclaimed, grabbing you by the upper arm, pulling you back against the offending chest that had you knocked you down to begin with. 

“What the…,” you muttered, your gaze traveling up the long expanse of flannel to a stubbled chin, to the plumpest lips you had ever seen. Past those lips was a strong nose, and the most mesmerizing pair of green eyes you had ever seen. “Who are you?” 

“The name’s Dean,” he answered. “And where were you off to in such a rush?”

You could see another man, even taller, standing behind this one, along with a slightly shorter man in a trench coat who was squinting furiously at you. “I’m trying to find my friend. But I don’t recognize you guys. What are you guys doing here at our Christmas party?” 

The tallest man sighed. “Is your friend about five foot six? With reddish-brown hair and wearing a shiny green dress?”

You nodded enthusiastically, still wondering how these men exactly were. “You’ve seen her?”

The one called Dean, still holding you by the arm, gestured to the other two before pulling you into an empty room. A couple of seats were against the wall, and he pushed on your shoulder until you sat down. “I hate to say this, but your friends dead.”

“Not funny,” you muttered, wishing you had stayed back at the table. Fred seemed to be the lesser of two evils right now. 

The tallest man came forward. “I’m Sam. That’s my brother Dean, and our friend Cas. We found your friend, laying Dead in front of the bathroom.”

“I need to see for myself,” you insisted, standing up and pushing past Dean to the door. In a couple of steps, your heart shattered as their words came true. She lay there, blood pooling underneath her, her eyes glassy and left open. “No,” you whispered, your legs shaking and you started to sink to the ground.

“I got you,” Dean said from behind you, catching you before you could fall. “I wish you didn’t have to see her that way.”

The pain had you turning into Dean’s chest, his arms surprisingly wrapping around yours, comforting you. “Who did this?” You whispered, knowing you would be forever haunted by what you had just seen. “Who would do this? Rachel was harmless!” 

“It wasn’t human,” Cas announced, catching your interest. “We think it might have been djinn.”

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “First my friend is killed, and you tell me it’s some sort of monster.” You backed away from Dean. “Exactly what are you doing here anyway?”

Dean held up his hands, backing away slowly. “It’s not what you think. The three of us, we hunt monsters. We’ve been hunting down this Djinn, and it led us here. A little too  late for your friend, I’m sorry to say.”

You wanted to laugh in their faces, say they were crazy and run away. But the look in their eyes, the way they handled this, and the fact that you had always wondered had you staying put, intrigued. And also wanting to avenge your friend's death. “What is a Djinn anyways?”

“You believe us?” Sam exclaimed, surprised. 

“I don’t not believe you,” you answered. “But I need more information.”

Dean lowered his hands. “A Djinn is a genie. Kind of like in Aladdin, but a lot more dangerous and they don’t exactly grant wishes. Normally they don’t kill their victims right away, but I think this one is a little more deranged.”

“A deranged genie,” you repeated, wondering how stupid you were being when a man ran past behind the three men, his face covered in blue lines. Blood smeared his clothes, and he winked at you before disappearing from sight. “I just saw him!” 

At once all three men’s attitudes changed. Blades were pulled from pockets and sleeves, and Sam and Cas ran after the Djinn while Dean stayed with you. “Stay with me? I can keep you safe.”

You nodded. Giving one more pained glance at your coworker and friend, you let Dean tug you down the hallway. You just hoped that you could help take down this Djinn that took your friend from you.

Dean kept your hand in his, holding a wicked looking blade in the other one as he raced down the hallway. Twists and turns, but the Djinn had vanished. “Stay here,” he whispered, guiding you into a tiny little alcove, hidden in shadows. “Don’t come out for anyone.” 

He left, and you crouched down your heart racing. Your bland Christmas party turning into something heartbreaking and fearful, but exciting with the mysterious Dean and his brother and friend. 

Seconds ticked by, your heart beating loud enough you were sure anyone could hear. “Y/N!” Dean’s voice called out, and while you knew you should stay where you were, you knew Dean would keep you safe. 

Staying to the wall, you turned left, where his voice had come from. “Y/N, come quick!” He exclaimed, and you rounded the corner, running face to face with the Djinn. “So easy,” he mimicked Dean’s voice once again. You opened your mouth to scream, but he pressed his finger to your temple and you slid into darkness.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82​ @acreativelydifferentlove​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @akshi8278​  @bebravekeeponfighting  @bi-danvers0​ @brindz30​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @cap-just-said-language​ @colette2537​   @deansgirl215​  @flamencodiva​ @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @just-another-winchester​ @karouwinchester​ @keikoraventeller  @krys198478​ @librarygeekery​ @magssteenkamp​ @misspygmypie​ @mlovesstories​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love​ @ruprecht0420​     @sortaathief��� @superseejay721517​ @squirrelnotsam​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @torn-and-frayed​ @tricksterdean​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @woodworthti666​

Forever Tags: @aditimukul​ @alexwinchester23​ @algud​ @amanda-teaches​ @andreaaalove​   @artisticpoet​ @atc74​ @be-amaziing​ @camelotandastronauts​ @caswinchester2000​ @cpag7​ @chelsea072498​  @closetspngirl​   @docharleythegeekqueen​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ericaprice2008​  @esoltis280​   @foxyjwls007​ @gh0stgurl​ @goldenolaf25​ @growningupgeek​  @heyitscam99​ @hobby27​ @horsegirly99​ @internationalmusicteacher​ @iwriteaboutdean​  @jayankles​ @jensen-gal​ @just-another-busyfangirl​ @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @lifelovelaughangell123​ @li-ssu​ @linki-locks11​ @littleblue5mcdork​  @lowlyapprentice​   @maui137 @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @mogaruke​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @musiclovinchic93​  @nanie5​   @percussiongirl2017​ @plaid-lover-bay25​   @roonyxx​ @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing​ @samanthaharper2018 @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean​ @simonsbluee​ @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @vvinch3st3r​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom​ @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​

[peterquillss]

The Misadventures of Star-Lord & the Earth Girl #1

Summary: When Malia Reyes wakes in the dead of night, she finds an alien ship crashed atop her apartment building! And the "alien,' abroad is no other then Star-Lord, retired Guardian fallen back on his more criminal lifestyle. Now with fate having thrown a man from the stars and a girl from earth together, they'll have to survive whatever the black void of space and the marvel universe has to throw at them.

Warnings: None

Pairings: Peter Quill x Original Character

Continuity: Movies/Comics

1 HOUR BEFORE

Peter gripped the controls of the ship with every bit of strength he had, trying to keep his free fall under some semblance of control. The night sky outside the windscreen jerked about with each violent motion the ship made. Peter struggled to spot something to lock his focus on outside. He wasn't even sure where he was exactly. Earth, yeah, but where on the big blue ball he couldn't say. He'd hoped to get in quiet like and not draw any attention - which was against hi nature, but when ship systems start spazzing out there's not much you can do.

Peter's heart sank as the lights of a city came into view. Whelp, there'd be no sneaky entrances tonight. He desperately scanned the cityscape for, at the very least, a flat surface. Peter threw flicked on the stabilizing thrusters, the ensuing whiplash nearly snapping his neck as the ship slowed a bit. Empty bottles slammed into the front of the ship with a deafening rattle as the violent spinning calmed ever so slightly. Peter shook his head, trying to banish any dizziness so he could find a place to set the ship down.

His eyes caught sight of a roof that was possibly just long enough to set down on. Sure, a few satellite dishes and an AC unit would have to go, but Peter didn't really care at the moment. He pushed the stabilizing thrusters to their limit as they fought against the falling dead weight if the ship. The roof kept getting bigger as Peter's life ran through his head. Great, now he could die while feeling down. He struggled to keep the ship at a proper angle so as to actually hit the roof he was aiming at.

Peter yelled as the ship set down on the roof, scraping across the roof. He covered his face with his arms as satellites started to slam into the windscreen of the ship. The edge was fast approaching, the thrusters only doing so much to slow the ship down. Peter lurched forward as the ship slammed into the AC unit, rolling into its side. Peter yelled again, the ground mere inches from his face with only glass separating the two. The ship began to slow, finally lurching to a groaning stop, hanging a bit over the edge. Peter looked out the windscreen to find he was looking directly at the street below. He sighed, and then chuckled. "Like a glove."

══════════════════

Curiosity killed the cat — and probably her too.

Here she was following strange alien lights to her building roof in her pajamas, barbecue fork in hand with some determined look on her face. Looking back, now a step away from the door, she probably should’ve taken those shots of NyQuil before bed, never having woken up to see anything or better yet, wander into the kitchen in the first place. Damn her 3am thirst for water!

What was she even doing up here?

Malia froze as the thought crossed her frazzled mind, and lowered the fork in her hand, seeing the mysterious glowing lights flicker through the bottom panel of the door. She really was going to surprise attack whatever creature landed on the roof with a barbecue fork...losing probably her life in the process? She looked back over her shoulder and smacked the palm of her hand into her forehead.

But. . .

Placing her hand around the door knob, Malia turned the cold handle, and slowly pushed forward the metal frame a crack— the flashing lights dancing across her face. What if...she could prevent something bad from happening? That was her motivation. Scared or not, she could. Right? One hesitant step, followed by two then three, she thrust herself into the middle of the rooftop with her eyes closed. Oh! And her trusty barbecue fork ready for battle.

Then, nothing.

Malia opened one eye after what seemed like an hour. There was no one one in front of her. Just a ship. No weird looking aliens ready to probe her and god knows what else. Just a rather tired looking space ship parked on the roof of her building, flashing whimsical lights. She let her hands fall to her sides, feeling disappointed. There went her night. "Seriously...?" She sighed, looking up at the ship. Was someone even in there?

Questions that needed many answers ran through her mind as she walked beneath the contraption. "Hello?" Malia barely let out in a whisper. She touched the cool metal with one hand and poked it with the other, hearing the clank of the fork hitting against the ship. There had to be a button somewhere. And so she searched for it, until unexpectedly the carrier door lowered itself open. She held her breath and waited, popping her head from behind the platform. Again...

Nobody.

"I must've hit something," Malia said to herself, hesitantly putting one foot forward. Here she was, again, letting her curiosity get the better of her. It wasn't everyday some Alien ship landed on someone's roof. She could be the first to report on the matter, making all those X-Files Cultist extremely happy. She gripped onto the handle of her barbecue fork and proceeded to count.

1, 2, 3...

In a rush of quick adrenaline, she hustled into the back of the carrier, throwing herself behind whatever object was big enough to hide her. She suppressed a giggle or two. This definitely confirmed her friends statements; she was insane. Now, all she needed was proof. Catching her breath, Malia peeked around, every odd noise sending her back into hiding. Was this ship really empty?

══════════════════

Peter gave the ship's mainframe another kick for good measure before replacing the panel covering. That was the extent of his computer repairing ability, so if that didn't work he was out of luck. The system had been freaking out the whole time he'd been working on it. Turning lights on and off, opening and closing doors, it was a mess. Peter turned the system off for a few seconds before starting it back up. Everything seemed to be working smoothly at the moment, so his expert repair tactic must've worked. "Rocket, eat your heart out."

Peter carefully righted the ship using the thrusters and turned on the engine. The ship started to vibrate as they hummed to life, lifting the vessel so that it hovered above the roof. It was time to shove off before somebody from S.H.I.E.L.D, S.W.O.R.D or some other acronym came looking for him. Peter set the navigation computer to take him out into open space before sitting back in his seat. He watched the city start to grow smaller as the ship ascended into the night.

Peter's nose picked up an aroma he wouldn't call pleasant. It smelled like engine fluid and grease mixed with Drax sweat. He looked around the room, searching for the source of the smell before a thought occurred to him. Peter lifted his arm slightly, taking a cautious sniff. He winced as the source of the smell had been discovered. There were two options. Get a drink and feel disgusted with himself for getting so ripe, or shower. Peter sighed as he stood up and peeled off his shirt and started towards the shower.

Peter stopped at his tape deck before heading off. He scanned his small collection of cassettes. It wasn't much, but he liked to think the quality made up for that. He picked up one of his mix-tapes, happy to see that side B was ready to go. Peter popped the tape in, turning the volume all the way up before pressing play. 'Carry on Wayward Son' started to blast through the speakers, drowning out even the ship engine. He'd rigged up a stereo system that stretched throughout the entire ship and could blare his music as much as he wanted. That was one of the only benefits of traveling alone. Peter walked off towards the shower, singing along with the song as he went.

══════════════════

In the short period of wandering very cautiously, ducking around every corner, Malia came to a conclusion that the ship she was in, didn't belong to Aliens. Coming across small modern-like knick knacks, she started to become more curious instead of scared. The pilot was human. But, that still didn't explain the strange roof landing. She paused in her tracks, hearing a faint sound of music from somewhere above. There was someone onboard! Question was, did she want to meet them? Malia walked toward the ascending ladder and looked up. Maybe she should turn around and pretend none of this ever happened. It was all some weird dream she could spin for a story at a party one day. She sighed and stood in place — no longer hearing the faint sound of music, but footsteps instead.

“Fuck!” She panicked, scanning the room for a place to hide. Her heart was going to pop out of her chest. She could here the footsteps getting closer, meaning they were coming! Malia rushed up the stairs, thanking her herself for wearing slippers and dipped into a nearby room. The doors automatically slid open, she lunging  to the middle to stand still. She could’ve sworn she saw a silhouette turning the corner.

“Please don’t come in here…” She whispered, pressing the barbecue fork against her chest as the footsteps grew louder. She closed her eyes and repeated, ‘please,’ to herself, each step getting louder and louder. Upon noticing they continued down the hall, Malia let out a deep breath. “Thank God.” She slowly walked to the automatic door and peeked her head out, before scurrying in the opposite  direction.

She didn’t want to leave empty handed. Walking into every room she came across, Malia poked around, finding armor, gun parts and just odd items she wasn’t familiar with. “Definitely, not from this planet called Earth,” She said, putting down a strange sphere object with pointed edges. It was too big to put in her pockets. Also hazardous. The point on that thing could probably stab her. “The hell…” Her eyes caught a glimpse of a shining object. Whatever ship room she had stumbled in had to be for trinkets because there was dozens of things in there.

She raised her hand to grab for the sparkly item and suddenly yelped at the unexpected movement of the ship, sending her over. She hoped no one heard her, but panicked regardless as the roar of the ship itself told her nothing good was coming from it. The ship was moving and she was still in it! Tripping out of the room, Malia ran toward the direction the footsteps had previously gone and pulled herself back, behind the entry, at the sight of pilot.

”Oh god,” She kept her eyes on the driver. It was a man. Dressed in some red leather? She couldn’t quite tell. Catching her breath with the rumblings of the spaceship rattling at her bones, Malia prepared herself for whatever was to come for the dumb decision she was about to make. Slowly approaching the strange man whom flicked switches on the dashboard, she lifted her barbecue fork and poked him from behind — hard enough to hurt.

“Stop whatever you're doing, and let me off this thing!”

Here is where she died.

[erahsae-ffxiv]

FFXIV RP Events for the week of 2020.04.21

So the problem with doing the actual update at 5AM on Sunday, is you forget to set an alarm for 8PM on sunday to post the lists... Whoops ~ E

FFXIV RP Events for the week of 2020.04.20

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This Week's Events:

Monday - 4/20/2020

7:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Shroudrose Teahouse - [Balmung] Lavender Beds, Ward 5, Plot 58

7:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Lounge at Reverie - [Mateus] The Goblet Ward 8, Plot 60

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Bun of The Boughs - [Balmung] The Lavender Beds, Ward 12, Plot 34

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - [M] Escort Lounge - [Brynhildr] Goblet Ward 12, Plot 13

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Da Family Feud || Final Round - [Goblin] Goblet Ward18 Plot 34

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - [M] Lady Luck Casino - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 4, Plot 43

8:00 PM to 9:00 PM EDT - Steppe Ramen - [Mateus] Shirogane, Ward 18, Plot 27

Tuesday - 4/21/2020

4:00 PM to 7:00 PM EDT - Wayward Star Bar - [Balmung] Mists Ward 14 Plot 2

6:00 PM to 8:00 PM EDT - Cafe de Chocobo - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 32

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - [M] Mujihigi: Hype Night - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 18, Plot 34

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Seraphs Bar - [Malboro] Lavender Bed Ward 1 Plot 57

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Carbuncles Cup - [Mateus] Mists Ward 10 Plot 53

9:00 PM to 1:00 AM EDT - Hoshi-no-Tama: Bar and Lounge - [Mateus] Mist Ward 18, Plot 39

Wednesday - 4/22/2020

3:00 PM to 5:00 PM EDT - Cazbah Cafe - [Balmung] Shirogan Ward 20, Plot 46

6:00 PM to 8:00 PM EDT - [M] Sly Blue Tattoo & Piercing - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 16 Subdivision Apt. 16

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - The First Rule - [Balmung] Shirogane Ward 19, Plot 13

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Infinity Night Club - [Malboro] The Goblet Ward 21, Plot 43

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - [M] The Wishing Hour - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 43

8:00 PM to 9:30 PM EDT - Azure Tavern - [Mateus] The Goblet Ward 5 Plot 13

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - [M] Calamity's End Bar & Grill - [Balmung] The Mists Ward 16, Plot 11

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - The Burly Barnacle - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 12, Plot 50

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - The Fire Pit - [Mateus] The Goblet, Ward 5, Plot 60

9:30 PM to 12:30 AM EDT - [M] The Admiral's Boot - [Goblin] Mist Ward 21 Plot 16

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - New Saronia Public Night - [Balmung] Mist Ward 19, Plot 17

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Sinking Anchor - Viking Nights - [Balmung] Goblet, ward 13, plot 6

10:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Voodoo Lounge Open Mic - [Mateus] Lavender Beds Ward 5 Plot 11

Thursday - 4/23/2020

2:00 PM to 4:00 PM EDT - Everbloom Cafe/Flower Shop - [Goblin] Lavender Beds Ward 5, Plot 9

4:30 PM to 6:30 PM EDT - Oak's Tradepost - [Balmung] Mists Plot 29 Ward 2

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Seraphs Bar - [Malboro] Lavender Bed Ward 1 Plot 57

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Beastfolk Greet & Meat - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 10, Plot 4

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Sticky Pickle Tavern - [Balmung] Shirogane Ward 14 Plot 9

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Everbloom Escape - [Goblin] Mist Ward 13, Plot 7

9:30 PM to 12:30 AM EDT - [M] Radiant Plume Fight Night - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 15, Plot 49

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - [M] Epoch Tavern (Open RP) - [Balmung] Mist Ward 11, Plot 2

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Senpai's Bar - [Balmung] Lavander Beds Plot 23 Ward 7

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Velvet Rose Lodge Open Bar - [Balmung] Lavender Beds, Ward 18, Plot 28

10:30 PM to 1:30 AM EDT - Uranami Onsen Social Hour - [Mateus] Mist Ward 15, Plot 5

Friday - 4/24/2020

6:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - [M] Coffee & Tease - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 8, Plot 21

6:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Maid's Basin Tavern night - [Mateus] Goblet, Ward 13, Plot 13

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Mujihigi Fight Night - [Balmung] Shirogane Ward 14, Hidden Shores

8:00 PM to 1:00 AM EDT - Club Underdark - [Balmung] Shirogane ward 20 plot 16

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Surf's Up - [Balmung] Ruby Sea, Onokoro

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Khuudas Imports - [Mateus] Shirogane Ward 18, Plot 28

8:00 PM to 9:00 PM EDT - The Combat Fields - [Mateus] Central Thanalan (20, 24) / Eastern La Noscea (36, 25)

8:30 PM to 11:30 PM EDT - The Captain's Cabin Tavern - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 12, Plot 28

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Bar Saisei Open Nights - [Balmung] Shirogane Ward 9, Plot 38

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Bokh - Xaelic Wrestling - [Balmung] Mist, Ward 19, Subdivision Beach

9:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Forgotten Knight Pop-Up RP - [Balmung] Foundation, The Forgotten Knight

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Crimson Crystal's Open Mic Night - [Mateus] Shirogane Ward 15, Plot 60

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Home Away from Home Tavern - [Balmung] Mist Ward 15, Plot 38

11:00 PM to 1:00 AM EDT - The Galbadia Bar and Lounge - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 30

11:00 PM to 1:00 AM EDT - Uranami Onsen Host & Hostess Club - [Mateus] Mist Ward 15, Plot 5

Saturday - 4/25/2020

3:00 PM to 5:00 PM EDT - King of the Ring Tournament - [Balmung] Eastern La Noscea: Wineport

4:00 PM to 7:00 PM EDT - Pajama Party (Club Night) - Drunken Moogle - [Balmung] Lavender Beds, Ward 12, Plot 33

6:00 PM to 8:00 PM EDT - [M] Sly Blue Tattoo & Piercing - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 16 Subdivision Apt. 16

6:00 PM to 8:00 PM EDT - The Apothecarium - [Mateus] The Mist, Ward 13, Plot 2

6:30 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Mandragora Munchies - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 57

7:00 PM to 9:00 PM EDT - Hanami Festival - [Balmung] Yanxia, Plum Falls

7:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - [M] Crescents Keep Tavern - [Mateus] Mist Ward14, Plot 34

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Sultana's Breath Shopping Arcade - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 18, Sultana's Breath Subdivision

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - [M] The Wishing Hour - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 43

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - [M] Hanakotoba Izakaya Open Night - [Mateus] Shirogane Ward 20, Plot 29

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Open Bar Night at The Other Three Walls - [Zalera] Goblet Ward 15 Plot 5

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EDT - Grindstone Tournament - [Balmung] Cen. Thanalan (21, 25)

Sunday - 4/26/2020

4:00 PM to 6:00 PM EDT - Three Dzo Moon - [Balmung] Mist Ward 19, Plot 44

6:00 PM to 9:00 PM EDT - Aetherbound Academy's Magic Faire - [Balmung] Camp Dragonhead, Central Coerthas

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Menphina Madness Blitzball Tournament - [Balmung] Amemnos Gardens, Ruby Sea,

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EDT - Seaside Sundays - [Balmung] Eastern La Noscea, Costa del Sol

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - Spellstone Tournament - [Balmung] Fesca's Wash, Central Thanalan

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Infinity Night Club - [Malboro] The Goblet Ward 21, Plot 43

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Mo's Tavern @The Rainbow Room - [Mateus] Goblet,Ward 13, Plot 45

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EDT - [M] Pitfall- Tavern and Fighting Pit - [Mateus] Mist Ward 16, Plot 31

8:30 PM to 10:30 PM EDT - [M] Apocrypha's Up the Ante Auction - [Balmung] Mist Ward 19 Plot 15

8:30 PM to 10:30 PM EDT - [M] The Cloak & Dagger Speakeasy and Lounge - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 21 Plot 19

View as a Calendar here.

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The FFXIV RP Event Calendar event lists are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-SA 4.0) License

[ladyhallen]

Prompt: Tsuna wakes up in someone's bed

Tsuna wakes up with someone’s hand on his stomach.

It’s a pretty nice hand – large, warm and perfect.

Still, the fact is, Tsuna usually slept alone. It’s too much of a hassle to find partners that his Guardians won’t eviscerate when found in his bed. Or Reborn. Let’s not talk about Reborn’s reaction. The asshole probably thought Tsuna was still a child.

Tsuna had needs, alright?

He’s getting distracted. Who’s the owner of said hand?

With a sigh, Tsuna turns and opens his eyes.

And squeaks.

It’s better than a scream, alright?

Not everybody would be fine seeing Xanxus di Vongola in their bed.

Shit, it’s not even his bed. Which meant that it’s Tsuna in Xanxus’s bed.

He tries to process this. He fails.

Like an ill-timed alarm clock, there’s a shout of, “Voi!!!!!!” sounding through the doors.

“Fuck off, Squalo!” Xanxus roars back, making Tsuna jump. He didn’t even know that Xanxus was awake.

“Xanxus, you’re awake?” Tsuna asks, biting the proverbial bullet. It’s difficult to find his courage, given that he was naked, without his weapons and in perfect proximity for Xanxus to shoot. Or punch. Xanxus isn’t usually picky when it comes to venting out his frustrations on Vongola Decimo.

“I’m not,” Xanxus refuted. “Stop talking and go back to sleep.”

It’s very, very hard to remember that Xanxus can kill him with that bed head and that adorable grumpy scowl that makes Tsuna want to coo at him. Stone cold killers shouldn’t be cute.

Tsuna shakes his head and makes to get up, only to bite back a squeak of alarm when that hand – which he had forgotten was on his stomach – tightens its hold on him and drags him closer to that warm, sleepy torso.

“Stop squirming,” Xanxus grumbled. Tsuna sighed and doesn’t protest anymore.

Both of them get comfortable, sleep creeping up on the edges of Tsuna’s mind.

Of course, that’s when the door bursts open, Tsuna’s Guardian’s in a panic as they search for their wayward Decimo.

Xanxus gets off him in an instant, guns suddenly sprouting from his hands and shooting everyone moving, even any of the Varia stupid enough to go near Xanxus’s room without any coffee.

Tsuna just groans, covering his face with a pillow and going back to sleep.

It’s not use, his Guardian’s drag his unresisting body back to the Medical Wing, convinced that he’d been drugged.

He’s too embarrassed to tell them that he just fell asleep on Xanxus while both of them were consuming the wine he’d brought to the Varia as a, “my father sucks too, can we commiserate about it,” party.

.

.

And then, he does end up nearly assassinated and everyone’s too busy hunting down the perpetrators to find him regular bodyguards. Or rather, even Hayato is too pissed off to stay by Tsuna’s side.

Given that his birthday cake got poisoned with Bianchi nowhere near it, he did concede the point that it had been getting a bit personal.

Still, who volunteered the Varia to be the bodyguards of the week? They needed to be shot.

“You’re staying with me,” Xanxus tells him. “We can’t spare the people to watch over you.”

What Xanxus means about that is clear until it isn’t.

Well, it’s clear that he’s going to be making use of Xanxus’s office as he works on his paperwork. It’s also understandable that he’s going to have all his food tested and he’s going to end up eating with Xanxus.

What’s not clear is where he’s going to sleep until he’s dragged in his pajamas to Xanxus’s room, and to his large bed.

“What,” he asked, more a statement than a question.

“Get in,” Xanxus growled sleepily. “I told you I can’t spare anybody to watching you. So you’re with me.”

He climbed in. He’s willingly climbing into Xanxus’s bed. What even is his life?

Tsuna didn’t know, but he’s willing to bet that it’s Reborn’s fault.

.

.

And then it happens again.

By the third time, Tsuna’s resigned to the fact that fate wants him to end up in Xanxus’s bed. It’s no hardship, despite what other people think.

Tsuna gets cold pretty easily – a remnant of the seal that Nonno placed him under – and Xanxus was practically a bonfire. He’s also pretty comfy to sleep on, warm with all the right firm parts to lean on.

He also cuddled. It didn’t look like it, but Xanxus was a champion cuddler.

Tsuna, who had been touch starved by the time Reborn got to him, never refused cuddles.

So no, it wasn’t a hardship.

Except Tsuna’s Guardians refuse to accept that Xanxus was the perfect bedmate. They were pretty sure he was being coerced to staying put.

Tsuna didn’t have the heart to tell them that aside from the first morning, he wasn’t being coerced. In fact, he’s pretty much finding excuses to doing it.

.

.

“You’re weird, you know that, little Decimo,” Squalo cornered him on his way out one morning.

Tsuna’s learned to translate what Squalo means. Filtering out the curses and the yelling barely takes him any effort these days.

He blinked at this though. He doesn’t have the context so he doesn’t get offended. Yet. There’s still time for the offense. With the Varia, it’s practically sport.

“A lot of people want to sleep with the boss,” Squalo clarified. “But most of those people don’t stay once the wine glasses start getting thrown around. Or the cursing.”

Tsuna wants to sigh, but holds it in. People should stop underestimating him, he wanted to mutter, except it was so useful to be underestimated.

“I’m not ‘people’,” he said to Squalo quietly. “I’m Tsuna.”

Squalo smirked. “Yeah. So you are.”

.

.

A few months in, and Tsuna realized that his Guardians have stopped dramatically bursting into the Varia headquarters.

Not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but when his Guardians start behaving, that means something’s going to break soon. And he’s usually the one signing off on the repair bills.

“You guys are too quiet,” he accused Takeshi, stopping him on his way to breakfast.

Takeshi laughed. Whoever said that Takeshi was easy to interrogate was lying. “You’re so suspicious, Tsuna!”

Hayato would only sigh at him. Ryohei clapped him on the back and Chrome just kissed his cheek.

He didn’t even try with Hibari or Mukuro.

The only person who gave him some sort of insight was Lambo. The thirteen year old frowned at him, saying, “We’re just giving in to the inevitable. Everyone else was in denial? I think the only one you have to convince at the moment is Reborn.”

Tsuna blinked blankly. “What?”

Lambo blinked blankly back. “Reborn? Greatest Hitman in the World? Has the unfortunate habit of shooting people when they piss him off?”

Tsuna shaked his head. “No, I mean, what?”

At this point, Lambo started to smile. “Oh my god, you don’t know? I’m not going to tell you, I like being alive.”

Tsuna got nothing else from him.

He’s so confused, at this point, he really would welcome another assassination. At least that’s straightforward.

.

.

And then Xanxus gets drunk and Tsuna’s the one dragging his ass to Tsuna’s bed this time. Which is a novelty since contrary to popular belief, Xanxus only drinks in the Varia HQ, where he knows everyone and he’s secure of his own safety.

“I can’t believe you got drunk in the Iron Fort,” Tsuna muttered. “This must be what Nonno means about furthering the relationship between various allies. At least you trust me enough not to kill you.”

A heavy warm arm wraps itself around Tsuna’s waist and hauls him towards the sleepy figure.

Since he’s practically been Pavloved with cuddles, Tsuna just goes boneless and doesn’t resist.

“Don’t shoot me in the morning,” Tsuna said to the ceiling.

.

.

Tsuna doesn’t get shot, but Xanxus looks at him strangely in the morning.

He’s completely sure that the breakfast and coffee tray he brought was the shocker. Everyone in Italy seems to find it surprising that he can cook his own food.

“I brought you breakfast,” Tsuna announced, holding up the tray like an offering. “Is bacon alright? I also fried some eggs.”

Xanxus hesitated before eating, but his expression of delight at the edible food made Tsuna feel warm.

“Put the tray on the floor and come back to bed,” Tsuna announced after he brushed his teeth. “Squalo met me outside earlier and told me he cleared our schedule for today.”

“Trash, what are you doing?” Xanxus finally asked.

Tsuna looked at him in confusion. “Sleeping in? I swear, I spend all my vacation days sleeping. Riding herd on my Guardians gives me sleepless nights. They cause me insomnia, I swear.”

Xanxus stared for a few more minutes before huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Mine too. Come here,” he gestured.

Tsuna willingly snuggled into those warm arms.

Xanxus’s expression was bemused, but he was also smiling. Tsuna took note, but didn’t really try to think about why. His Intuition tugged at him, but he ignored it. He was warm, sleepy and having a Vacation Day.

.

.

Part 2 coming up...