#went through every applicable tag in like 5 minutes

[westdesert]

ok so actually the lack of hyun-ju content on this godforsaken website has greatly upset me, do we just not care or......

[leftoverbriocheloaf]

Fanfic Writer Interview!!

@xerx thank you so much for tagging me!! I'm honored and v excited to answer <3333

How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now I have 29 works on AO3!! That's kinda crazy to me just because I only started posting last summer and didn't think it would go anywhere,, but almost 30 and still going strong!!

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Language Barrier: I'm genuinely shocked this got so popular?? I'm happy to know that ppl love the "didn't think you could understand my language" troupe as much as I do!! It's one of my shorter ranpoe stories at 2.3k (I like to write longer fics bc I hate myself apparently) but I love it dearly <3

Interesting?: I loved writing this fic!! I am insane about them and continue to be!! It's also ranpoe (I wonder if you can guess the ships I like,,) and also my second longest fic ever at 32.6k. It's a high school au bc I love them living happy lives and being normal (ASAGIRI PLEASE) with a healthy(?) amount of rivalry on Poe's part! It's also one of the few fics where I bounce around in POV, which is something I love doing but find really hard

Good Shot: What can I say. I saw Poe w a sniper and went HOT what who said that. not me. But I also decided that he and Atsushi would make great friends (which led me to deciding they're siblings and writing a whole story about that) but I'm just a sucker for Poe adopting random members of the ADA by accident. Ranpo is just really proud of his bf. This one is also shorter at 2.8k but I got to write a really cool (totally not biased) fight scene so it's one of my favs

Feelings Are Difficult, Even For Geniuses: Guys this was one of my first fics I swear I've gotten better at naming them (I have not). 9.0k words of mostly Poe getting beaten up I have no words,, It's a bit more graphic (violent not sexy unless youre into that idk) than most of my stuff and definitely one of the more angsty ones, but it has a happy ending so dw he's fine

Henna Berries and Padisarahs: Ok this is where I shamelessly admit I'm a genshin player and while I haven't played in. forever. the sumeru quartet grabbed my heart and threw it out the window. Cyonari for the win. 5.2k and soulmates!!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! I love comments SO much y'all have no idea how much they mean to me,, They've made me so much more confident in my work and eager to share my stuff and I really appreciate it!! I try and respond as fast as possible (I have responded to a comment within five minutes before and I still wonder if that commenter thinks Im a freak) but sometimes I'll hold off until I can finish the next chapter (if applicable). I also am a huge yapper (if these responses didn't make that clear) so I love talking to you guys <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Tbh I don't really write angsty endings?? I might eventually, but they make me so sad :') Which. they're supposed to. I'd have to say Feelings are Difficult, Even for Geniuses only bc the fic itself is angsty and it's implied that Poe is gonna have to work through some shit emotionally after the events of it? It might be An Author, a Raccoon, and a Reaper though.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

This is gonna be hard bc every single fic is a happy ending tbh.. Give it a Shot! is an octopath traveler ii fic that I loved writing the ending for (guys you should read fics from the octopath fandom they know whats up) but For the Hell of It might be my favorite ending that I've written!!

Do you write crossovers?

I haven't written any crossovers,, Mainly bc I feel like the fandoms I like are all just too different? I haven't found any ways to mush them together but maybe I'll write one eventually!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope! Everyone's been really nice :)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sorry y'all I'm a sex-repulsed ace so it probably won't happen? I mean never say never tbf but seeing as my face literally burns when I write two characters kiss it probably won't be soon lmfao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so? I hope not?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No :( I'm hoping to get good enough at Spanish to translate my own fics though!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! But not any that I've posted,, I'm working with my irl friends on a few different fics, but they're still in progress :)

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Guys i can't choose. don't do this to me

(ranpoe, criminos, sskk, kohiiai, cyonari, xingyun, chiakana, dan heng/march/stelle (idk the name) are all favs tho)

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ok one of my favorite fics that I'm writing is a fic about Higuchi getting amnesia before the events of the main series and slowly getting her memories back but finding herself outside of akutagawa its like 50 pages so far but im not even done w the guild arc.. im hoping i can finish it but we'll see!! I just think Higuchi deserves love and a MC moment <3

I also have a fic where Poe uses the book after they've lost to send himself back in time to try and fix everything! But (in my fic at least) Arahabaki is outside of the rules of the book, so Chuuya also retains his memories,, I just think they could be a very interesting duo and have a lot of potential as begrudging allies (and guys. mafia poe. guys) but it's very long and idk if I'll be able to see it through (T-T)

What are your writing strengths?

I think I write dialogue well! I have trouble working through certain characters, but I like writing two really smart people bc I have to strike a balance between having them not mention things (bc they're obvious to them) and still letting the reader know whats going on.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have a lot of trouble continuing fics bc I have so many things I want to write that I usually overwhelm myself trying to string plot points together,, Scenery is also SO hard for me to write idk why (@xerx we're opposites lmao <3)

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it can be done well, but I usually prefer to italicize and just say in the notes that a character is speaking in another language so readers can understand what they're saying. However, if you're writing a story where you don't want the reader to understand either, I think it can be really interesting!

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Honkai Star Rail,, and Dungeon Meshi (farceille my loves)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I think it's a tie between For the Hell of It and A Hop, Skip, and Jump (Back to the Castle)! I love my aus, if you couldn't tell. But royalty aus will always have a special place in my heart (and that fic is certainly not the last royalty au i'll be writing for ranpoe) <3

Tagging: @jeaninthetrees, @amythecinnabunny (if you have an ao3 and I didn't tag you you should lmk so I can :)) )

[tetsurouskuro]

Reunion

pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, slight angst, breeding kink, unprotected sex, public sex, bokuto does the kabedon

word count: 5,006

a/n: this is my submission for the Haikyuu Headquarters second NSFW server collab! this time it’s the prompt “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” you can find the masterlist HERE by the amazing @vixen-scribbles who is my queen so go give her a follow! 💖

thank you @deathcab4daddy​ & @gallickingun​ for beta reading, ily guys so much (go give them a follow if you aren’t already)! 💖

now enjoy; feedback is always appreciated! <3

tag list: @miamiya (message me if you want to be included)

Synopsis: Three years has passed since you got your heart broken by your one true love Bokuto Koutarou. A high school reunion is about to take place at Fukurodani Academy. What will happen when you finally meet your ex boyfriend? 

MASTERLIST!

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Your eyes scanned the invitation card from your high school. Reading every word that’s written. A high school reunion. The thought alone makes you think of him. Wondering how he’s doing. He may be your ex and the boy who broke your heart, but he was your first and still to this day, your only love, and you knew why he did it. He had his reasons.

He had talked you through it before you both graduated high school. He had told you that he wanted to focus on volleyball and that he was going to move away from Tokyo, and you were not the type to try and stop him. You wanted him to succeed. You also had to think about your future and what you wanted to achieve. Both of you went your separate ways, heartbroken that you could not be together anymore.

Bokuto succeeded in achieving his dream. He was playing in big arenas with huge crowds, on TV and he was a well-known volleyball player. The number 4 ace and captain from Fukurodani made it big, just like he promised you all those years ago.

You sighed and placed the card onto your fridge. There was still one week left until the reunion, and it wasn’t like Bokuto would show up. He was busy with volleyball, especially since a new season just started. 

You sigh and turn around to grab the warm coffee cup and head to your couch. Once seated you turn on Netflix and start a random show. Grabbing your phone, you go to the search bar on Facebook and search for your ex-boyfriend. Once the two of you had broken up you had unfriended him immediately. You knew it was going to be hard to get over him, so to save you from having to see his posts and face on Facebook, you removed him.

He’s the first one that pops up. You share mutual friends, so it isn’t that weird. You go to pictures and see him with all sorts of different people, smiling and laughing. Sometimes even looking, upset?

Sighing you close the application, lock your phone, and toss it next to you on the couch. Closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the headrest, hoping and praying that Bokuto doesn’t show up to the reunion.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Wearing a black evening gown with a front slit, thin shoulder straps, and a pair of black heels you step into the big gymnasium where the rest of all the third years are gathered. A waitress walks up to you with a tray in hand, offering you a welcome drink, probably champagne. You take a glass and nod your thanks. Taking a sip, you sigh and take in your surroundings. People are standing in groups, chatting, and laughing. You see Yamato, Konoha, Haruki, Yukie, and Kaori in the middle. Konoha looks your way and you lock eyes. He smiles widely and waves you over. The rest of the gang turns around and sees you too, all of them start to yell at you to rush over.

You smile at them and head towards the squad.

“(y/n)! you’re here!” Yukie excitedly exclaims.

“Yes. Here I am,” you laugh. “How’s everyone? Haven’t seen you all in ages.”

 You stand there talking with everyone. You chug the rest of your glass and turn around to grab another just as a round of applause is heard. You follow everyone’s gaze and see someone enter the gymnasium.

“Hey, hey, heeeeeey!” The voice echoes. A familiar voice.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You chant and shove your champagne glass to Yukie. “I need to use the loo.”

“Wait- (y/n)!” She yells after you, but you’re already headed for the door that leads you towards the nearest toilet.

Your heart is beating hard, you can feel your pulse rising. Adrenaline has kicked in and you feel nervous. You’re breathing heavily as you reach the door, turning around slightly to just peek at the man that has made you react this way.

He hasn’t spotted you yet. He’s surrounded by girls and boys, welcoming their former ace to the reunion. You stand there, the door slightly opened, your body halfway through the doorframe and take him in.

He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a matching black tee, black vans, and a light blue jean jacket. His hair is spiked the same way as usual and his golden eyes are filled with happiness. He laughs loudly and scans the room like he’s looking for someone and then his orbs land on you. The way he gazes at you makes your whole-body shiver and you feel like you can’t breathe. You stand still, watching him watch you for a second more until you turn your body back and go through the door and towards the ladies’ room.

Once inside you stand by the door, back against it, trying to control your breathing.

Okay (y/n), calm down! Act normal and don’t freak out!

After 5 minutes you turn around and push the door and walk out, walking back to the gymnasium. You pass a hallway when suddenly-

“(y/n)?”

“Jesus fucking christ!” You jump. “Don’t scare me like that.” You exclaim and turn around and are met with a pair of golden eyes.

“Ah sorry,” Bokuto speaks, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling. You rushed out so fast.”

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “I just needed to use the toilet.”

“Oh. Okay.” There’s a long pause. Both of you are silent.

“Bokuto-kun!” A female voice yells out, interrupting the awkward silence and you turn around to see where the female is.

“I should head back. Yukie is probably waiting for me,” you lie. “It was nice seeing you Bokuto,” you smile at him and turn around to leave, but he grabs you by the forearm and pulls you towards him.

“Let’s take a walk around the school. I don’t wanna head back just yet.”

“Bokuto I-“

“Please (y/n)? I haven’t seen you in ages and I just wanna talk.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Great,” he smiles. “Let’s go then!” He grabbed your hand instead and intertwined his fingers with yours as he dragged you down the hallway and escaped the voice of the girl that was calling his name.

He suddenly stops outside of your old classroom and you both stand there, panting and trying to control each other’s breathing.

“Felt like a teenager doing that,” he laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just need a moment.” Still panting, you stay silent, and watch his tall frame. You stand up straight and clear your throat. Bokuto turns his body sideways and looks at you.

“Do you think it’s open?”

“I don’t know, but what do you wanna talk about Bokuto?” You speak up, wanting to get away from this situation. “We broke up. We’re exes, we’re not supposed to be like this.”

The silence returns, Bokuto’s eyes never leaving yours. You watch him, still out of breath you feel an aching pain in your chest. You fist both of your hands beside your body, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I- shit,” you curse and let out a small laugh. “I need to leave.” You’re just about to turn around when Bokuto’s right arm slams itself on the wall to your left, stopping you in your tracks. You press your back to the wall and raise your head so you can meet his gaze. His tall frame towering over you.

“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t leave.” You don’t listen to his plea and try to leave again but this time he slams his left arm on the wall, caging you in.

“Bokuto. Let me go!”

“No!”

“I- What?”

“I came to this reunion mainly so I could see you,” he pauses before continuing. “I made up my mind that if you came, I would try to get you back, ‘cause I still fucking love you.” His golden eyes stare right into yours. You can see the determination in them.

“The way we broke things off, I should never have ended it that way. We shouldn’t have ended it that way. If I could go back and change it, I would’ve made you come with me. I was stupid to let you go.”

“Bokuto, I-“

“And stop calling me Bokuto!” he fumes. “You never called me that while we were dating and-“

“We’re not dating now!” You respond, interrupting him.

“I know!” He slams his right fist on the wall, making you jump. You have never seen Bokuto this upset before, not even when you broke up.

“I’m sorry. Shit (y/n) I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-“

“It’s okay, Bo! It’s… fine,” you sigh out that last word. You let your head hang low, watching the ground, seeing how close his body is to you. You gulp, trying to contain your thoughts. You haven’t had any sexual contact with anyone for as long as you can remember, and seeing Bokuto now, here, this close makes you clench your thighs together. But you would not let your sexual desires over him take over. If he wanted you back, he had to tell you, and apologize.

“When I- We broke up I did it because I wanted to focus on volleyball.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Wait, let me finish.” You stay silent and let him continue.

“I wanted you to come with me, I wanted you with me so badly and I thought that I couldn’t let you come with me because I didn’t want you to stop chasing your dreams. Volleyball was my ambition, not yours.” He pauses for a second, collecting his thoughts and breathing before continuing. 

“But I was wrong and dumb. I didn’t ask what you wanted, I just assumed and chose for you. I should’ve talked it out with you, asked you if you wanted to come with me and I didn’t. I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath before yet again continuing talking, expressing his emotions.

“Over these past few years, I haven’t been able to let you go. You were always on my mind. You had taken over my head so bad that I started seeing things. Seeing you on the streets, in the audience while I was playing. I never stopped thinking about you. I even stalked your Facebook multiple times and-”

“You stalked my Facebook?” You look up, watching him. Your heart beating fast against your ribcage.

“Yeah, not my proudest moment but I did. I needed to see your face, needed to see what you were doing, and if you were seeing someone. If you were as miserable as I was,” he sighs, his eyes watching yours. “Please (y/n) I am desperate. I want you back. Give me a second chance. I need you back in my life. If you just give me a small chance, I will prove it to you that I will be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make.”

Bokuto sighs out loudly, like he was in pain, and places a kiss on top of your head before sinking so his eyes are in front of yours. His face just mere inches from yours.

“Just give me one chance. Just one so I can have you back. I want you (y/n). I want to be able to call you mine again. I just need one-“

You decide to instead of using words you crash your lips against his. Cutting him off mid-sentence, wrapping your arms around his neck. It only takes Bokuto a few seconds to respond by kissing you back, his body pressing itself close to yours, his forearms bracing him on the wall.  

You break off the kiss, bite your lip, and look into his golden shimmering eyes. “I never stopped loving you either.”

“Really? I expected you to have a boyfriend or fiancé by now.”

“No,” you groan. “I tried dating, but nobody compares to you.” He smiles widely at your words. Like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’ll try to give you everything I can Bo, I’ll try-“

“Everything means nothing if I can’t have you (y/n)!” Blushing you look down, but Bokuto grabs your face in his hands and presses a kiss on your lips again. And again. You fist a handful of his shirt in your palms and press your body close to his, feeling his semi poking you and showing how much he wants you.

“You’re mine, (y/n). I love you so much,” he moans against your lips and then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth. His hands moving to grab your ass, pushing your pelvis against his. “I’m gonna prove it to you. I need you now. No time to waste.”

He pushes himself off you and turns around, trying to open your old classroom door and to his luck it does. His wide smile is back as he ushers you in.

“Wait- Bo! We can’t, not here.”

“Aww c’mon baby, it’ll be fun and besides,” he pauses, still looking at you as he undoes his belt. “I always wanted to fuck you in this classroom back in the day.”

His sentence makes you hurry inside, and you look around the now unfamiliar classroom. You hear Bokuto close and lock the door, the sound of his zipper being pulled down makes you turn around and face him. His pants are undone but still around his hips.

“Come here baby,” obeying, you take a few steps forward and stop once you’re in front of him. Both of his hands grab you by the waist and pull you forward, his lips instantly crashing to yours. His lips don’t stay on yours too long as they start to travel down the side of your neck towards your exposed collarbone. While his lips are giving your upper body some attention, his hands push your dress up, exposing your black lace thong to his fingertips.

Bokuto recognizes the material and stops his movements just so he can peek at your underwear. He grunts.

“Do you… like them?”

“I love them, baby. Jesus Christ.” Bokuto’s lips return to yours, his index and middle finger tracing the outline of your slit, making you squirm. He then removes them and ushers you to get up on one of the desks, and you do, but not before you remove your thong as sexy as you can, and throw it on the ground nearby.

“Babe, you’re gonna be the death of me!” he exclaims in a groan and hurries back to you. His body standing between your thighs. A slight breeze passes making you shudder, your nipples peek through your dress. Bokuto notices this and instantly with both of his hands, he pushes your dress down your arms and chest, making your breast spring free.

“Haven’t touched these girls in years,” he speaks while palming them both. “So beautiful.”

“Bo- I-“

“Shh love. It’s all about you now,” he removes his right hand just so he can tease your opening. Lubricating your core with your wetness before inserting a finger inside you, making you moan and throw your head back.

“Baby. Look at me,” he groans. You pull your head back and watch him. He removes his left hand and places it beside you, bracing all his weight on it while his other hand is occupied with your cunt. His finger going in and out of you, your walls clamping around him tightly. He snickers at how wet you feel around him and adds another finger, his middle and ring finger are fucking you slowly, too slow for your liking.

“Bokuto, please. I want more,” you moan.

“Easy now baby, I wanna savor this moment. Feeling your wet cunt around my fingers after such a long time,” he grunts. “God baby, you’re so wet.”

“I know, it’s all for you Bokuto.”

He licks his lips seductively and leans in closer to you, his breath hits your neck and makes your whole body shudder. His tongue comes out and licks you up from your collarbone to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you let out a sigh in pleasure.

“Do you like that, hmm?” He snickers. “Do you like my fingers inside you (y/n)?”

“Y-Yes Bo, I-I love them,” you moan. He lets out a slight “fuck” as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and thrusts his digits harder inside your wet and aching core. Wanting you to cum so badly. He arches his fingers inside you, making them hit your g-spot.

“Bo, please. I’m so close,” you groan. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You keep on whining to him, the once familiar feeling returning to the pit of your stomach. The pressure in your lower abdomen is getting higher and higher. Your legs start to shake and in just a couple of seconds, you’re releasing yourself around his fingers, your right-hand wraps itself around his wrist, nails digging into his soft skin as you moan out loudly from orgasming. 

“Kou!” you scream, your walls clamping themselves around him, his fingers still going in and out of you, your legs shaking and your pelvis grinding itself on his hand. Eyes closed and mouth wide open and panting, trying to get your breathing under control.

After a minute, you open your eyes and are met by a smug smile as he removes his fingers and raises his hand to his lips, licking your juices off his fingers while still maintaining eye contact with you. 

“I missed the taste of you baby,” he groans. His long fingers going inside that beautiful mouth of his. A big smile on his lips, his excitement palpable. 

Once he has licked his fingers clean, he moves his hands to his pants and starts to pull them down his long legs along with his briefs, his cock springing free and colliding with his lower abdomen. Precum leaking from the tip. 

Your eyes are glued on his hard member. It’s as beautiful as you remember, two veins going around his shaft, the pink head craving attention. 

Your eyes never leave his crotch as his hand goes down and wraps itself around his hard cock, moving up and down slowly.

“You’re so eager, I love it baby, so sexy when you look at me like that,” his voice speaks, making you look up and meet his golden eyes. He takes a small step forward and with his hand that’s around his cock he traces your lips, mixing his precum with your wetness. 

“Wait Kou- Condom!” You moan. The fact that you managed to even utter those words surprised you, but you didn’t know who he’s been with.

“I didn’t bring one,” he answers. “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you instead,” he groans and rams himself inside you. Your walls clenching around him tightly. Your heat making his cock twitch from excitement. 

“Fuck Kou, you- you feel amazing.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I can feel you pulsating around me.” He’s still for a moment, letting you get used to him. Had he gotten bigger since you last were with him? Or had it just been such a long time since you’ve had sex? It didn’t matter to you, you loved the feeling of him stretching your walls, making your tight cunt ache for him to move.

His hips backtrack only to force themself back to you, colliding and hitting your g-spot, making you throw your head back and grip the edge of the table hard. Your eyes are closed as you take in all the pleasure that he’s giving you. He repeats the same action, he grunts and you moan at the friction.

“Baby look at me,” he moans, his hand going to your cheek, holding it with his large palm. “I want you to look at me.”

You answer him by moaning, opening your (y/e/c) eyes looking at him, pleasure displayed on his handsome face as he starts to increase both his speed and the power of his thrusts. His hips colliding against yours with a strong force. The pleasure is displayed on your face, a lewd look as you’re loving the way he continues to ram himself inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum inside of that pretty cunt, baby. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he moans loudly, not caring if anyone hears him. He loved the excitement of knowing you could get busted having sex in your old classroom but he didn’t care. He had craved you for 3 long years and he wasn’t going to let this moment pass up. 

“I want a future with you,” he continues. “I want to marry you. I want to get you pregnant.” 

This makes your cunt clench for him. Your walls clamping themselves tightly around him. Marrying him? Pregnant? 

"Oh, you'd like that baby? You want me to breed you, baby?" His thrust hits hard, his cock going deep into your core. His eyes travel down, watching his cock going and out of you. The wetness surrounding it like lube, making it easy for him to thrust in and out of you. His gaze is locked on where both of you connect, watching the way your cunt swallows him whole.

"Fuck baby. Beg for me to fill you, I know you love the feel of my cum inside you."

"Oh god Kou, please fill me with your cum. Breed me," you almost sing. Your voice is filled with all kinds of emotions, pleasure consuming you.

"You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up with all my sperm," he moans, his hands holding your hips in place as his thrusts got deeper and deeper inside you. The tip of his cock grazing your g-spot viciously, the pressure in your abdomen getting stronger after each thrust. The thought of you swollen with his child made him even harder and closer to reaching his climax. 

"Cum for me baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum with me. I'm so close," his thrusts get sloppier and you know he is near his release. 

"Cum with me Koutarou. Let's do it together."

"Fuck (y/n)," his whole body stills as he ejaculates inside you. The warmth of his semen spurting in you, coating your walls and you follow him soon afterward. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you coat his cock with your release. 

Your body is shaking from the intense orgasm you just had, your teeth biting into your lower lip and you feel him move, his still hard cock going in and out of you. Bokuto is making sure that his cum doesn’t come out, to make sure you’re bred and hoping you get pregnant from this. 

"Mhm Kou," you moan. Your eyes glance up to his face. A big smile was plastered on his lips. 

"That was so hot baby. I want more."

"I don't think I can stand," you giggle. His eyes are watching you, the smile on your face making his heart squeeze harder and being filled with all his love for you. 

"What now?" Your tender voice asks. 

"I'm waiting."

"... On what?" 

"For you to calm down before I go for round two,” he smirks. 

“W-Wait. Hold on. Round two?”

“You didn’t think I was already finished with you, baby? I’m just getting started.” With that being said, he flips you over. The action making his cock get pulled out from your heat. 

You’re bent over and your front is pressed against the now warm desk. His hands start to caress your body, from the base of your neck to your naked ass. He gives your ass some attention before slapping each cheek, making you jump from the sudden action.

"I could just cum from the sight of you," he grunts. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, to make sure you're bred."

"Kou-tarou~," you moan as he enters you without warning, his cock rock hard and coated in both your juices and his semen. His hands holding your hips still as he thrusts deep inside you. Ramming his cock hard into your wet and tight core. His fingertips are digging hard into your flawless skin, leaving a mark but you don’t care. The only thing that’s going through your mind right now is the way his cock is pounding into your wet and swollen cunt.

"I won't stop until you're dripping with my cum, to be sure you're pregnant with my child," he almost screams. "Jesus fuck baby the way you clench around me is wonderful."

Your cunt clenches harder around his cock, the thought of being pregnant with his child makes you reach some kind of bliss that you never thought you could. The soft image pops up in your mind for a second, but it’s soon gone as one of his hands grabs your shoulder, his other following suit.

You can feel his semen leaking out as he continues to ram into you, and you know he notices it cause he lets out a snicker. 

"My cum is seeping out of your pussy, but I'll fill you up again baby. I'll fill you up again and again."

"Kou- I'm gonna cum again," you moan. Your left hand holding the edge of the desk while your right one is in front of you, trying to grab something and it does as Bokuto's right hand comes forward and intertwines with yours, clamping around it. His body pressed against yours. Feeling his breath on your neck.

"Say it, baby, say what I want to hear."

"P-Put a baby inside me Koutarou please."

"Fuck yes," he moans vocally, biting down on your neck as he fills your cunt with his cum, the feel of his cum inside you again makes you clench around him and you reach your climax. 

"Yeah, my cum makes you orgasm so fucking hard right baby?"

"Mhm," you answer, too worn out to even form your own words. 

You press the side of your face on the desk and close your eyes. You're breathing heavily, so is Bokuto. His warm breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps form on all of your body. 

"(y/n)?"

"Yeah?" 

"I'm getting soft."

"Oh my god!" You giggle. 

"Stop. You're making me fall out, stop it!" This makes you laugh out loud, this man who just minutes ago went all sex god on you is now filled with concern. 

"Are you alright though? I wasn't too hard? Or rough? Or-"

"Baby, you were perfect," you answer in a giggle, interrupting his worrying self. 

There's a comfortable silence surrounding you both, not a single word is uttered. The only sound is the sound of your breathing. 

Suddenly you feel him move and pull himself out of you. Bokuto is fast with tucking himself inside his briefs and pulling his pants up, buckling his belt too. While doing this, you feel his cum seeping out from your hole.

"Hold on I'm on it," his voice speaks and you can hear him look for something to clean you up with. "This will do."

He's back fast and with some paper towels that are not very nice to your lady parts, and he cleans you up. The feeling of the paper made you wince, both from being sensitive and roughly fucked by your ex and now boyfriend, but also from the paper not being soft enough for your liking. 

"I'm done, there," he softly speaks, his voice filled with tenderness but also worry, that it was hurting you. He wasn't. He was doing something so much more, and you loved him for that. 

Getting up and getting dressed was the part where it got uncomfortable for you, his eyes stared at you as you dressed, fixing both your gown and hair, making it not look like you’ve just been fucked. 

Your thoughts wander to what had just happened. Was this just some kind of roleplay or did he want to impregnate you? Not that it mattered for you, you couldn’t care less because you got what you had wanted for years. Him.

Once you’re done you turn around and see that Bokuto is already watching you, a big smile on his lips. 

"What?"

"Nothing. You’re just so beautiful I can stare at you all night.”

"I-" you blush. “Thank you.”

"Now,” he says as he takes a small step forward and grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. His smile still there and you can see how his eyes are glowing. 

“I love you,” he kisses you. “I love you so much (y/n). You’re the love of my life.”

"Again."

"Huh?" He turns his head to the side, not knowing what you mean. 

"Say it again. I need to hear it again." With confidence, he grabs your face in his hands and holds you in place. His eyes watching yours and with the softest smile on his lips, he says: 

"I love you.”

"I love you too." You sigh in happiness and he seals your lips with a passionate kiss. Both of you smiling through the kiss in pure bliss. 

He pulls away and grabs your hand and starts to lead you out of the classroom and in the opposite direction of the party. Confusion consumes you as you speak.

"Kou, baby. The party is that way," you giggle and point down the other side of the hall. 

"I know. We're not returning."

"We're not?" You ask in confusion.

"No."

"Why not?" He stops in his tracks and you collide with his rock hardback. He turns around, smirking.

"We have 3 years of lovemaking to do and I want you in my bed when doing that." He returns and walks you out and into the parking lot, leading to his car and a future of you and him together again. Nothing could stop you now.

[andypantsx3]

conspire | 2 | first date

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

The next morning, your classmates wouldn’t shut up about it.

The rumor of your rendezvous with Shouto had spread like wildfire through the school, and you were assaulted by a wave of questions the second you turned up to modern lit. “Is it true?”, “Is he your boyfriend?”, “How do you know him?”, “Is he a good kisser?”, all blended into a cacophony of sound that nearly bowled you over as you stepped through the door.

You felt your face grow hot under their scrutiny and quickly stuffed yourself into your desk. “Yes, we’re dating. No, I won’t answer other questions about it.”

“Come on,” Miko--the girl in the desk closest to you--begged. “You’re dating Shouto Todoroki, the cutest boy in school, and you won’t even tell us how you know him?”

You wracked your brain for something close to the truth. “We, um, got along really well on that support item project last month. It’s nothing special.”

Miko’s mouth opened to fire off another question, but Mr. Cementoss cut her off with his arrival, launching immediately into his lesson plan. You sent up a silent thank you to whichever patron saint of fake dating had been listening.

The rest of the school day passed much the same way, and you wondered several times if the price of your senior project was perhaps too high.

You’d known that Shouto was something of a celebrity due to his parentage, supreme good looks, and incredible power--even outside the walls of UA--but you hadn’t really thought through how that would affect the people who stood closest to him. Knowing what celebrity looked like and actually experiencing it for yourself were two very different things, you found. You’d never been subjected to attention like this before and you weren’t sure that you liked it.

By the time Saturday rolled around, you’d started to wonder if you shouldn’t just call this whole thing off.

The sight of him that morning, however, immediately robbed you of your resolve.

He’d asked you to meet in front of your dorm mid-morning, and he showed up looking unfairly handsome in well-fitted jeans, a grey scarf, and a dark jacket with a high collar that framed his sharp jaw. He looked good, way too good for this early in the morning. You felt a shiver go through you, and not just because of the cold.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted you, the corner of his mouth curling. He gestured with something in his hands and you found your eyes drawn to two takeout coffee cups from the cafe just outside the school gates.

Okay, he was a literal angel and forgiven for everything you had been through this week.

“I didn’t know how you liked yours, so I got all the extras,” he said, handing a cup over to you and turning out a pocket to unveil a mound of sugar packets and tiny creamer containers.

You smiled, feeling warm. “Thanks, Shouto. Pretty sure every support engineer has bypassed the need for modifications at this point and just mainlines straight from the coffee pot. Black is perfect.”

He grinned down at you. “Too many late nights?”

You groaned at the tidal wave of memories. “Support items should just build themselves.”

He laughed and gestured you to follow him, leading you out of school grounds and to the nearby train station.

“Where are we going?” you wondered as he ushered you onto the train. He herded you into a corner and stationed himself in front of you, one arm extended to hold the bar over your head. You wondered if it was something like a natural instinct at this point for hero students to assume a protective position, as Shouto’s choice had the effect of shielding you from the rest of the train car.

“I...asked around about you,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed. “I’ve been told that your interest in quirks and support items doesn’t just end at the classroom door.”

You flushed. You were kind of a nerd, he had your number.

“I’m taking you somewhere I think you might like,” he said. He took a sip of his own coffee, varicolored eyes glinting down at you over the rim of his cup.

You nursed your own coffee as the train rolled into the city, resisting the urge to close your eyes and lean into him. It was something you might do with an actual boyfriend, and as cute as it was that he was taking you out on a real life fake date, you didn’t think he would appreciate you putting the moves on him.

He led you out of the train at the city center and down a few blocks, finally pulling you into a building with a very modern glass facade. You recognized it at once.

“The Support Museum!” you chirped happily, your interest picking up. They had an interactive exhibit going on right now that you and some classmates had talked about coming to see. Your fingers suddenly itched with the need to test out some of the items.

Shouto looked at you from the corner of his eye, a flash of curious blue. “This is okay?”

“Hell yeah,” you intoned, picking up the pace to get in front of him. “If you’re cool with being bored to death for the next six hours while I have a great time, then this is perfect.”

He gave you a dry look. “I care about support items.”

You scoffed. “You have like, one.”

A slow smirk overtook his features. “Maybe you could convince me to add more.”

Something hot flashed through you and you gave yourself a hard pinch through the fabric of your jeans. His tone seemed laced with insinuation, but you knew better than to buy into it. It was just hard when he was looking at you the way he was.

Damn him for having a face like that.

“Careful,” you said, trying to reroute your brain, “you’re signing yourself up for a whole lot of wild rambling and weird tangents.”

That soft smile pulled at the edge of his mouth again. “I’m used to it. Midoriya, my best friend, is a lot like that.”

You’d been in the room with Izuku Midoriya before and didn’t doubt it. The boy could certainly give you a run for your money. If he wasn’t equipped with the wildest quirk you’d ever seen, he would have made one hell of a support engineer -- you were probably lucky you didn’t have to compete for grades with a mind like that.

“Treat me like white noise,” you said as he shouldered past you to pay for tickets.

You let out a noise of protest when you noticed what he was doing, but he pressed you back from the ticket counter with a strong arm you couldn’t get around. It seemed only too easy for him to hold you off and pay for tickets at the same time, and it was slightly offensive. Maybe you needed to put in more time in the support course gym.

“I asked you out,” he said by way of explanation after you complained all the way through coat check, only shutting up when you were distracted by the sight of him in a soft tee shirt and blue button up. “I should pay.”

You made a dismissive noise. “It’s not the nineteen thirties anymore, dude. I can pay for my own stuff.”

He turned to you with a wry look. “Are we fighting about money already? Not something I’d thought we’d get to at this stage, to be honest.”

You laughed. “Our first fight as a couple.”

He pinned you with an interested look, something in his gaze growing hot. “Should we kiss and make up?”

Your face instantly went up in flames, like he’d lit you up with his quirk. Jesus Christ, he was a teaser? You’d thought he was just the quiet and thoughtful type -- who knew that he hid an ironic sense of humor underneath all that? This was going to be bad for your health.

“Cute,” you quipped for something to say, marching in front of him quickly so he couldn’t see your face. “Uh, where to first?”

He let you lead the way around the museum, and in minutes you’d pretty much calmed down from the heat of the moment, distracted by the halls filled with the forefront of quirk theory and the corresponding support equipment.

As someone who’d been born without a quirk of their own, the concept had always been fascinating to you, leading you into the support track at UA in your efforts to study quirks and their applications. It was incredible how genetics determined which people had none, and whose ranged from benign improvements like seeing slightly better through fog to more deadly power that roiled just beneath the surface of one’s skin like Shouto.

The deviations in power manifestation stretched the genetics of each human further from one another than they had ever gone before -- sometimes by a full 0.1-0.2% of their DNA structure -- and it was crazy cool. While your speciality was more applied science, you couldn’t deny the biology of it was equally as interesting.

At the rate it was going, people like you could share more genetic similarity with a banana at some point than someone like Shouto. Well, after a couple more millennia of evolution.

Shouto chuckled and you realized with some alarm that you had been babbling all of that out loud.

“Should I be concerned that our children might come out as bananas?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You gave him a sour look. “You know that’s not how it works.”

He flashed you a cheeky grin and followed you easily as you led the way through the other exhibits.

He listened attentively as you oohed and ahhed over the different displays, asking very pointed follow up questions like he was actually interested in what you had to say. You fell into a very involved discussion about most of the displays, and you realized with some surprise that plenty of time had passed without you realizing it, and that you were having an incredibly good time.

Shouto paid for lunch at the museum cafe as well, affecting hearing loss over the sounds of your protests, and kept up the easy conversation all the way through the meal.

After lunch, you two queued up for the interactive exhibit that you’d initially wanted to see, eventually being let into the exhibit hall in a small group. You immediately lit up like a kid on Christmas.

The hall was studded with actual support items that had been developed for the top twenty heros, ranging from real costume pieces that had been retired to replicas of items currently in use, supplied by the same companies as had built them. The items were free for testing with the caveat that the user had to be careful.

You spent a fair amount of time over pieces of Edgeshot’s costume that had been made from strands of his own hair, allowing it to fold and reshape with the changes to his body, and more time over Ryukyu’s size-changing suit that mechanically adapted to her dragon form.

Shouto stopped over a flame-resistant gauntlet from his father’s previous costume.

“Think you can melt it?” you asked with interest. You wondered how fast they’d eject you from the museum if he succeeded.

Shouto shook his head. “My flames are hot but I doubt it.”

You perked up. “How hot?”

“I haven’t actually measured,” he admitted and you groaned.

“Your super cool quirk is totally wasted on you,” you said. “You have to let me do tests.”

His mouth twitched again. “What kind of tests?”

“Anything you’ll let me,” you said. “Temperature gauges, cryogenic structure analysis, body scans when you use both energy sources. I have my theories as to how your quirk is actually scientifically possible but I need more data.”

“Body scans, huh?” he asked.

Of course he’d seized on that one. God, he was such a boy.

“Yes. We’ll get you all strapped up in wires and those little sticky nodules. It’ll be super sexy, trust me.”

He chuckled, and set a hand to one of his father’s boots that was also on display. “Fine, but later. Want to test this out now?”

You leaned in, nodding, and he let a flame grow in his hand, pressing it to the fabric of the boot. The cloth activated instantly, channeling the flame across the surface of the boot in the customary style of Endeavor’s flaming costume.

“Fuck, that’s so cool,” you breathed, leaning over to read the description of how it worked. “You need something just as obnoxiously showy on your costume. You’re letting your own dad upstage you.”

He laughed again and let the flame die down.

You wandered companionably through the rest of the exhibit, thrilled when it ended in an arcade-like simulation of Wash’s quirk that let you rig up and shoot water around at various targets. Shouto immediately targeted you instead.

“You're supposed to be a hero,” you whined, whipping around to aim your water cannon at him in revenge. “How could you target a civilian like this?”

His hero training had clearly paid off, as he was too skilled at dodging to get caught up in any of your attacks. Your time was called without you able to catch him once, but you left the exhibit with your own shirt sticking wetly to your body. You tried not to wince, thinking of the wintry weather that would no doubt invade the confines of your jacket once you made it outside.

Shouto immediately pulled you to the side of the coat check, however, his eyes trailing down your shirt where it clung to you. You tried not to feel self conscious.

“Let me,” he said quietly, placing a hand against your shoulder. Searing warmth washed over your skin under his hand and you tried not to arch up into the pleasant heat. You stood incredibly still, hardly daring to breathe as he passed his hand lightly over your shirt, taking care not to touch you anywhere too scandalous, though some traitorous part of your mind almost wished he would. This close, you could catch the scent of some light cologne, minty and fresh, and the smell of it made your head spin.

It took just under a minute for him to fully dry out your shirt, each second passing like a small eternity.

You were able to gather your wits just enough to laugh about his bright future in steam cleaning as you tucked back into your coat, then followed him to the train back to campus.

It was nearly dark by the time he walked you back to your dorm, the sun dipping low to kiss the horizon, sunset orange fading into the deep blue of an evening sky. You realized that you’d spent all day with him and had hardly noted the time passing -- he was a very, very good date. Some girl in the months after graduation was going to find herself very lucky with him.

The dorm was quiet as you approached, which was unusual for a Saturday evening, and you realized with a growing sense of horror that your classmates must be waiting quietly, watching for your arrival from inside to see what he’d do. Shouto must have realized the same thing almost the same time that you did, as he stepped into your space at the doorway, catching the sleeve of your coat to pull you close to him.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, face dipping close to yours. His features were somehow even more symmetrical up close and it was overwhelming to look at. “I quite liked today, so I thought…”

Your heartbeat kicked up in your chest and the tips of your ears went hot as you panicked, tangling your own fingers in his dark jacket like a lifeline. “Y-yeah,” you answered. “This is g-great.”

He smirked, leaning in even closer to you. You held carefully still as you had in front of the coat check, all the nerves in your body straining with anticipation. Then a hot mouth pressed softly to yours, and every neuron in your brain misfired.

The next thing you registered, your arms were around his neck and he was pressing you gently up against the door, his tongue in your mouth and his large hands on your waist. You arched up into his touch, desperate to get closer, twining your fingers in his soft hair.

He gave a low groan and pressed you harder into the door, a hand coming up to cup your face as he did something absolutely criminal with his tongue. So much for his career as a hero.

A muffled shout came from within your dorm and you jerked apart, panting. Your face flamed in embarrassment.

“Wow,” you said dumbly, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Wow indeed,” he teased, stepping back from you.

You shook yourself as he did. Right, fake dating. The kiss had been hot but it was only for show--and the show had been successfully executed. You had to resist the urge to drag him back for another.

“I’ll text you?” you squeaked out and he agreed, looking weirdly satisfied as he bid you good night.

You watched him for a long moment as he trudged back down the path to campus, heart beating a frantic staccato in your chest.

Shouto Todoroki was the most dangerous boy alive and it finally dawned on you just what you had agreed to for the next few months. You were so absolutely fucked.

[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan…

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

a/n: I know it’s been a minute. I’m always thinking about these stories because I want to finish them, just can’t seem to focus on writing at the moment.  Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Part iv - Date with Destiny

Finding Ivar Lothbrok should have been easy. Between the two of them, he was the stable one. He was the one with the iron-clad schedule that consisted of drinking, smoking, and partying. Torren’s schedule was a bit more... fluid. She tended to go wherever the wind, or whatever car she acquired, would take her. Naturally, Ivar had the occasional meet-and-greet, red carpet, and/or Comic-con engagement that he had to attend, still, he was pretty easy to keep tabs on. All one had to do was look at (stalk) his social media accounts, and his whereabouts were posted for everyone to see.

Knowing where he’d be and finding out where he lived were a different story. Torren had done her due diligence when it came to locating the town in which Little Kattegat was located. It only took about two days and a few Google image searches of the background of a few of the photos and she had it narrowed down to a general area in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

From what she could tell, the closest town to where he lived was pretty small, and there were only a few large estates hidden in the woods. How hard could it be to find? She was willing to drive to every single house and knock on the door to find him if she had to. But it would just be easier if there was loud music and a bunch of cars in the driveway. That way she could tag along inside with the rest of the guests to get to her man. 

Her shirt landed in the pile of dirty clothes in the center of the bed, as she reached around to unhook her bra. “I really need to tell Baby Boo to stop putting all of his business out in these streets,” her brows furrowed as she shook her head, “What if some crazy, psycho bitch started stalking him, or some shit? Then I’d have to kill a bitch.” Torren’s head whipped around and she narrowed her eyes at his picture, still stuck on her wall, “Is that what you want? Huh? You want me to cut a bitch to prove to you how much I love you? I will, Bae! You know I would do anything for you. I’m your Ride or Die...” 

And being his Ride or Die meant that she needed to keep better tabs on him if she was going to protect him from someone crazier than her, God forbid.  She was only able to do so much on this prepaid phone, and going to the library to get online was becoming a pain in the ass. 

She’d considered stealing a laptop or iPad from the library but was still on the fence about the idea. Of course, the alternative meant going to stupid ass libraries and threatening little kids to get off the fucking computers, and that completely sucked ass. 

She always felt rushed when she logged onto her Bae’s Only Fans page from the public library. Without fail one of those little bastard kids would get the library Nazis to kick her off the computer, or bar her from the library altogether for watching porn. 

Ivar’s page wasn’t porn! It was art. It was sexy. It was love...his love for her. Stupid bitches. 

She had encountered far worse things than getting kicked out of the library, but some of these small towns usually only had one or two within their county limits. If she got banned, how was she supposed to check up on Ivar? In the time it took to log in until she got kicked out, she'd be lucky if she could check 2 of his accounts. What if he had some important information on another platform that she hadn’t checked yet? What was she supposed to do then?

Her relationship with Ivar was hanging in the balance, and she'd be damned if some snot-nosed kid or fucking uptight librarian would fuck that up. She needed a computer. But, on the flip side, when she finally got her man back, she wouldn't need one anymore. She could ask him directly what their plans were.

There was a lot to consider and that took time; time that she didn't have right now.

The thick layer of Nair shaving cream she had applied to her already hairless crotch, was just starting to tingle, signaling she had about 5 minutes left before the sweat-inducing, burning sensation would kick in alerting her to wash the cream off. Until then, she had time to consider an outfit for the night.

She knew Ivar well enough to know that he would want her to be sexy for him, but not so much to distract him from work. She could have gone for something slutty, like those skanky bitches he partied with. She could have gone for more demur, but then she would remind him too much of his bitch ex-wife and completely turn him off. The last thing she wanted on their first night back together was for him to be thinking about that bitch. She could have gone for a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but Torren never did simple. 

No, Ivar would want her to be herself. That's what he loved about her. That's what attracted him to her in the first place. She would be sexy without being skanky; she would be demure without being a prude.

Fuck! It was already 7:33 p.m. How in the hell did she miss the beginning of his Live? Now she was running late.

She was supposed to be dressed and ready by the time his Live came on that way she could be out the door as soon as he finished. If she was going to make it to be on his Only Fans live stream tonight, she needed to get to his house before he got too distracted. Now, she’d have to watch his Live, while her cooch burst into flames before she had a chance to take a shower and finish picking out her outfit.

If there was one thing Torren was, it was punctual. It was bad enough that she was about 40 minutes outside of his town, but it could take her up to 2 or more hours to find his house. She only hoped that he didn’t plan on starting any real freaky shit on his Only Fans page until around midnight, cause it looked like she wouldn’t be getting there before then, anyway.  

With the smile still plastered on her face, Torren turned on the hot water for a shower, forgetting that the water didn’t get hot. She didn't mind, much, especially since the cold water gave her a break from the heat in her room. 

Phone in hand, she watched him, as she planted herself on the dirty bathtub floor, cross-legged, and started to get herself ready. Starting with her toes, she shaved each one, just below the knuckle, followed by her fingers, arms, pits, and each leg, from groin to ankle, three times. When the burning from her nether regions was so intense that she couldn’t tell her tears from the shower water dripping on her face, she quickly washed off the cream. 

All she could do was hope that she hadn’t broken the skin this time. The last time she had let that damn Nair stay on, just past burning, the skin broke and she bled. She was not having a bloody hoo-ha tonight. 

With that taken care of, she gently used the razor to remove any other pubes closer to the inside that needed to be removed. Then shaved her backside. When she had more time, she was going to get the internal hairs bleached, but she needed to find out what Ivar preferred. 

Shaving ate up so much of her time that she only had a few seconds to rub some body-wash that she had stolen from a drug store over her body and hoped it got rid of the smell of the summer heat. Her hair? Fuck it...she’d wash it another day, for now, this cold water would have to be enough. She’d spritz some perfume and hair spray in it and it would smell fine. 

Torren finished her shower, and walked out of the bathroom dripping wet, only using a towel to wrap around her hair. She was glad it was so hot in her room that her hair would air-dry quickly. She finger-combed her damp tresses to complete that ‘just got out of bed, but it's styled’ appearance. She knew how much he loved when her hair looked like that. It would remind him of freshly fucked hair. 

She spent extra time applying her makeup, even using an extra dark, thick application of eyeliner. She usually went for more subtle warm colors. They matched her tan skin tone better. But, tonight, she had bold, dark makeup, complete with varying shades of purple and blue eye shadows, and dark purple lipstick.

Torren was glad that she decided to match Ivar’s clothes this evening. The swim trunks and smoking jacket he wore would compliment her beautifully. She wanted everyone to know that they dressed alike, the way real couples do. If he was going for less is more, so would she.

She settled on black leather chaps that tied up on the sides, and tight blue boy shorts that left the bottom half of her ass cheeks exposed. The blue shorts brought out the blue swirls in his trunks; she knew he'd appreciate that touch. Her top was a blue bandanna that she wore as a halter with a short black leather jacket with tassels on the sleeves. 

They screamed “couple” in her eyes.

Completely satisfied with how she looked, Torren locked the door to her motel room and started down the hall. She deliberately stopped by the window and peered through the partially opened blinds of the people staying next door to her. She knocked on the window to get the attention of the young couple inside. Judging from their appearance, they were too strung out to know who she was, or that it was her music that they constantly banged on the wall about. She didn’t care. She still flipped them off before making her way to the stairs. 

Reaching her hand through the busted window of the blue Ford Taurus to unlock the door from the inside. Torren slid into the driver's seat and leaned over to find the two cords that she had pulled out from under the steering column when she stole the car. Flicking the cords together, she listened as the engine reluctantly turned over.

She put the car in reverse, looked in the rear-view mirror at her makeup, then pulled out of the spot. As she turned onto the road leading to the highway, she listened to the knocks, bumps, and hisses that her car made. There wasn't time to do much about it now; not when she was on her way to get her man. But, she made a mental note to do something about it later in the week. The only thing she could do was turn the music up louder to drown out the car noise.

Truthfully, she should have stolen a better car than the piece of shit Taurus that she found in the parking lot of the Quickie Mart while driving through Tulsa, Oklahoma. There were plenty of better cars there to choose from but no one would have wanted to take this one. It was so sad looking that she took pity on it. She had been doing the owner of this crap car a favor, by taking it off of their hands. 

The car was truly fucked. The oil light stayed on, and it drank gas like her mother drank liquor. The car had protested every inch of the ride across the three states that she traveled through in one day. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before that piece of shit breathed its last breath.

She needed to get gas again, but fuck that car. She had already refueled four times since she stole it. Gas wasn't cheap and she wasn't putting another dime in that gas guzzler. Speaking of money, she made a mental note to steal another credit card. It would only be a matter of time before the owner of the one that was tucked snugly between her left breast and strapless bra, would eventually realize that it had been lifted from the table in the diner, and canceled.

Laptop, butt bleaching, car, credit card, and more eyeliner from Walgreen's…her To-Do list was growing. She really needed to take some time off and take care of the necessities. Not tonight, though. She had other things to do. She couldn't do anything else, right now, but get to her man. Besides, once Lothbrok was by her side, he would help her remember all the things she needed to do.

As she came off of the highway exit smoke started billowing out from the engine. It backed up through the exhaust system, and came through the vents, inside the cabin. It was ironic – the air-conditioning vents in the car didn't work, but they seemed to work well enough to clog the inside of the car up with thick white smoke. She drove a few more miles before the smoke was so thick that she could no longer see. As she pulled the car over to the graveled shoulder of the road, the car knocked and shook, before it finally cut off.

Just her fucking luck.

She reached under the dash to flick the cords against each other again, trying to force the ignition to catch again, but it wouldn't. The engine had nothing left to give her. "Fuck Murphy and fuck his fucking law," she said calmly as she pulled the hood release.

She opened the car door, taking care to place both black, platform boots on the ground before lifting her backside from the seat. Placing her sunglasses on her eyes, she walked with one foot in front of the other to the front of the Taurus and placed her hand on the hood. It was hot, but not so hot that she couldn't feel under the front of the lever.

As she lifted the heavy metal hood and placed the rod in the slot to hold it in place, Torren let the smoke from the engine engulf her. It was quite a head rush breathing in the thick engine smoke through her nose, and exhaling it from her mouth. She patiently waited for the smoke to thin out before she bent, at the waist, over the engine. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew that someone would see her looking over the engine and stop to help her.

Now, if only someone would actually come down this dark stretch of road, she could be back on her way to Ivar.

It didn't take long before a pair of headlights rounded the bend of the road, just off to her right. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she accentuated the leather, chaps against her hips, and lifted her ass higher in the air, to catch the driver's attention. She couldn't help but smirk when she heard the tires of a large vehicle turn onto the graveled pavement in front of where she broke down. She didn't turn to face the car or the driver. She didn't care who they were or what they looked like. She had an appointment to keep and this pit stop was fucking up her timetable.

"You need some help?" A deep voice asked as its owner approached her.

Torren took a moment to peer around the hood, noticing that there were no other cars around. "Broke down," she answered, continuing to bear her weight from one hip to the other. She placed her hands on the metal frame of the car, arched her back, and looked at the man over her shoulder. "You know something about cars?"

"Yeah," he replied, moving around to her side, looking at her, and not the smoky engine.

She gave him half a smile, as she noticed him notice her. "You a mechanic or something?" She asked standing up. She rubbed her hands together to remove some of the visible engine soot while considering the guy in front of her. He was about 6 feet tall with a moderate build. He was dressed in blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and Timberland boots. He didn't look like he was more than 25 years old. Judging from the way he was looking at her and from the ring on his left hand, he wasn't too worried about her car, or his wife, for that matter.

"Nah, not a mechanic, but I work on my own car... in my spare time." He smiled when she did. She was gorgeous, in that slutty kind of way. She wouldn't be dressed like that and leaning over the hood of a car if she wasn't looking to have some fun. "Lemme take a look at it."

Did he work on his car? Hopefully, that meant that his ran better than hers did.

Torren moved over to the side and let him take the position under the hood. "I'll be right back," he explained before walking over to the bed of his F150.

Grabbing a flashlight from the trunk, he took a second to admire the view of her, from behind. If he could get her car moving again, she would hopefully follow him to this cheap motel he knew that was just up the highway.

He leaned in close, taking a whiff of her hair, "You overheated…want to check the coolant level."

She had heard him say something else but she had stopped listening; she was too busy watching the street. "You want me to try to start it?" she asked, removing her sunglasses before making her way to the driver's door. She wasn't sure if he answered or not. She had no intention of driving the Taurus again, even if he could get it started. She just needed to get something out of the car.

She slid into the seat and reached down on the floor. She found the hard metal object on the floor of the passenger's side and gripped it tightly. As she walked back around to the front of the car, she heard him talking, presumably about the car, or maybe he was asking her out. Who the fuck knows? She was on a tight schedule and all of his chatting was holding her up. She stood by the side of the hood, looking at the angle he was leaning over the hood. Quickly, she lifted her arm, and with one powerful blow, she struck him in the head with the crowbar that she used to procure her now-defunct car.

Torren stood over his body, looking at him intensely. God, it felt good. The rush of knowing that one minute this dude was towering over her, and the next he was on the ground. She had dropped his ass. She was the one with the power.

 "Thanks," she said, digging her hand in his pocket to retrieve his cash, credit card, and the keys to his truck. She wiped the blood on the crowbar on his shirt before walking to her new mode of transportation.

Torren sat in the truck's driver's seat and turned on the engine. She had managed to cross two things off of her To-Do list without even planning to.

Thank God the truck had air conditioning. All this heat and humidity was bound to make her hair frizzy. She cranked the AC up as high as it would go and sat still for a moment enjoying the cool air. After a minute, she adjusted the seat and tilted the rearview mirror to look at herself. She was starting to sweat and her eyeliner was starting to run just a bit at the corners of her eyes. She dabbed at the black liner to even out the lines, and then pushed the mirror back to where she could see. Giving the area another once-over, she made sure that no one else had seen her interaction with that guy on the ground, before pulling out from the gravel and onto the paved street.

"Ugh!" Torren yelled. Chester Bradley, the printed name on the credit card, had shitty taste in music. She pushed the stereo button on the steering wheel to do a scan of the radio. Anything was better than country music. Once she found some trap music on the XM radio, she turned up the volume and pulled back onto the highway.

Part iii/

Tags: @ideagarden-blog1  @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @a-mess-of-fandoms @didiintheblog @conaionaru @peachyboneless @flowers-in-your-hayr @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @revolution-starter​

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

[vtforpedro]

long, long health update - tw in tags please read them

I am going to speak very frankly about suicidal ideation; please don't read further if this is triggering for you ;3; but please know that I love you I had my follow-up appt with my neuropsych on monday to go over my results and whatnot. it was virtual, and I was in the middle of a head episode and I told her I wasn't doing well, but within about 5-10 minutes, she was saying I should probably go to the ER lkajflaj I guess it looked pretty bad lmao anyway I told her all the reasons I couldn't. medical trauma, being dismissed b/c I have doctors who manage my headaches, and I know it's not life-threatening even if it is 10/10 agonizing, so why are you here. they're so dismissive. she said that they have medication to possibly help break the cycle of constant migraines but I've been treated with those before and they didn't do shit migraines are secondary to iih. it's the iih that needs to be fixed ._. she said I still deserved to not suffer and that the ER is very strict about keeping covid patients away from other patients and I didn't have the heart to tell her they intubated a covid patient 10-15 feet away from me last time I was in an ER 😭 anyway so the results. she said she wasn't worried about anything going on that was concerning or indicating something wrong in my brain. I DID score quite a bit lower for someone my age on information processing (which is exactly what I said I was struggling with to my two neuros who were both like ehhh) and some issues with memory but they weren't super specific and so it could be something neurological, could be my migraines and constant agony lmao, could be my Emotional State. could be all of them at once, I suppose ;) she went into more detail about some of these things but it was the two questionnaires I filled out that were HNNN. so once all the data is entered from like 300 questions it shows a good look into my personality and perceptions and all that and it makes a cool little graph (OR SO I THOUGHT). the kind that looks like mountain peaks. so she points at the one that is waaay higher than the rest and nearly touching the top of the box and she's like 'do you see this one' me: yeah 😬 her: this is your feelings and ideations about suicide me: 😬 😩 😬 her: when I see a score this high, I stop what I'm doing and I call the police to have them escort you to a hospital me: 😬😬😬😬😬 her: but I didn't do that. because when we spoke in office you told me you felt this way and why you don't do it. you told me it's something you've lived with for a long time and the pain you are suffering is what makes it so bad. and I trust you me: 😭😭😭 okay her: do you see this line down here? this is people who have suicidal ideation recorded on this test. you scored 98% higher on suicidal ideation compared to people reporting suicidal ideation HNNNNNN. she said it probably wasn't surprising to me and asked me if I was safe again and all that. I assured her I was and said in my previous appointment; I've had suicidal thoughts since I was like 12? maybe earlier. there have been very few times in my life not surrounded by abuse and trauma so I'm never really free of it. I've had four traumatic incidents causing increasingly horrible episodes of ptsd in nine years. all through my 20s. still here woo, lol and she said she knew that and had a patient not long after my first appointment who had similar circumstances in their life. and they told her it's almost a comfort having it. cause I was saying it's in the back of my mind at all times and I won't do it, but yeah, it's always there. anyway she said they said the same thing; it's always there, always in the background as 'hey I'm an option!' even though we aren't going to harm ourselves. it's a comfort knowing there is an option even if we plan on never using it? idk it just spoke to me and I felt it in my soul we talked about some emotional stuff after and I cried and it was a thing. it felt really good to speak to a psychologist who, just as she was in the first appointment, seemed genuinely concerned and wanted to help

me. I told her I was ready for therapy and she said she'd already looked for therapists for me lkasjdlkja and gave me a group that I emailed yesterday. I don't think they'll take my insurance but she said to message her through the portal if they don't and she'll try to find someone who does I don't remember if I mentioned it, but since she knew about the head shit before I met her, she dimmed her office lights without asking if I needed it and like as soon as we started the virtual visit, she leaped up and dimmed them and said she should've thought about it before the appt 😭 (I keep my brightness really low on my computer and use the warming feature 24/7 on comp and phone and my apt is really dimmed but it still helped a lot when she did it) she kept saying 'you did nothing wrong. it was the choice of others to do what they did. you don't deserve to carry their choices. you deserve to be able to hand it back to them. you don't deserve to be in pain. you did nothing wrong. you deserve to be free of what they did and you deserve to not suffer in such physical pain' I'm so wary of doctors but I really like her and I feel fortunate to have been referred to her ;3; speaking for a long time and especially emotionally is hard for me, so I might try to do two sessions a month once I find a therapist and see if I'm ok with that. trying to keep everything virtual while delta is out there I read her report and her official diagnosis is uhh really strong for major depressive disorder, severe. and severe ptsd with disassociative symptoms so!!! I claimed both of those on my disability application and the person handling my claim told me when I had this appt to call and let her know because she wanted the info. I signed a release the day I was there when I told my neuropsych that cause MH stuff is different than other medical records. she said she faxed it to the woman handling my disability application but I was gonna call her and ask if she received it and also tell her I have a new neuro so she will probably request his stuff too I called today and her voicemail box is full so lol try again later today's been awful. last night was horrible. got a bill for over $800 from my colonoscopy/endoscopy even though I asked numerous times if insurance was covering it and was told yep, every penny. so I was on the phone with insurance and the surgery center for 45 minutes. insurance seemed confused af but the agent I spoke with got some help from people who handle this stuff I guess finally she told me not to pay it, they're going to send them a letter to get it sorted (idk if this means I won't have to pay it at all or if they're going to try to make it that way. but I think govt insurance, which is what I have, works differently. like doctors kinda have to follow what they say vs. the other way around) and not worry about it for the next 30 days. I'm still gonna worry about it lmao they used a nice scare tactic on the bill that this was the 'LAST AND FINAL NOTICE' despite the fact they've never sent me anything else. my mom and the insurance agent said nah that's just what they do to scare people into paying fuckin love america <3 land of the free. the american dream! greatest country on earth 💜🖕💜 I just don't want it to go to collections and have to fight credit bureaus to get it off my credit so it's not destroyed |: anyway my head hit like 10/10 bad while I was on the phone cause of the talking a lot and trying to PROCESS INFORMATION and stress and also the fucking hold music, which I have to hear in some way b/c I gotta know when they're back on the line hnnnnn bad day. it's 1pm and bad, bad, bad day. bad month all around. I want this shit to stop anyway. I'm sorry about the suicidal ideation talk, but it's important to talk about that stuff. it can get severe but it can also get better. it does, eventually, even if it comes and goes. it always does get better I'm sorry, I also really needed to get this down somewhere. feel like I'm going to explode emotionally AND physically and I need to talk about it. hopefully

soon I'll have a therapist to talk to so I can get a lot of this stuff worked on. got my whole life to chat about so it'll probably take a long time but I'm willing to let it lmao therapy doesn't usually work for me anymore but idk I've had a lot of shit happen in less than two years so maybe it will this time I'm trying! I really am trying if you read this rambling monster, thank you. love you all and please stay safe

[ramp-it-up]

Fresh Squeeze, Ch. 5

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Cursing, Angsty Angst, drug and alcohol use, surprise flights, Anthony Ramos. Lots of Plot.

Word Count: 3.5 K

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal in the form of their Blindspotting musical, Bay Boys. Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, star of the superhero movie series Invincible.  They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were toxic. She knows now that wasn’t love. 

A/N: Keep in mind that this the same AU as Arrivals, with Holly Woods, but is BEFORE Rafa and Holly get together. And don’t come for me about Anthony.

Read the Previous Chapter.

===================

NYC, May 2023

Jasmine was blowing up your phone as you were trying to get dressed.  You had to search for it under the pile of clothes on your bed.

You had procrastinated getting ready, trying to finish one of your applications for a summer internship at this law firm in Harlem that you were excited about.  

You wanted to finally relax after finishing Columbia law in the top 10% of your class. You just wanted to relax and enjoy this weekend.

Craig, your mom and your uncle were the only ones to attend your graduation.  They knew you didn’t want any fanfare, so your famous friends didn’t attend, and they had a show to do, but they’d sent you tons of well wishes.

We're coming up, get decent!

You chuckled and shook your head. Anthony usually raided the refrigerator when he came over. This time, you told him to bring his own snacks..

You slipped on what you were wearing for the night.  Craig was in his room getting ready and you had volunteered his place, so you were playing hostess. You were surprised that he was so chill about it, actually. 

“Pika Pika,” you said to yourself in the mirror then ran to answer the doorbell. It was almost 6 pm.

You opened the door for Cookie Monster and Big Bird.  You burst out laughing. But you stopped when you saw Anthony's face. He had like five bags from Whole Foods that he was juggling in his blue arms.

"Jazzy!!!! There's my girl.  Hey Ant! leave the food and your girl. We may run off together."

Anthony came in the door loaded down with bags and kissed you on the cheek.  

“I love you Lindy, but fuck you man.” You punched him on the shoulder. 

“Ow! Time to get this party started!”

Linden heard Jazzy’s Brooklyn accent turn into a London lilt as she started play fighting with Ant. They felt like family at this point.

=================

Ever since the launch party in January, Jasmine had pursued you as a friend persistently. You normally didn’t let anyone in because of the circumstances of your life, but Jas was oblivious to your awkwardness with normal human beings.

“Girl, you are fucking DOPE, and you are NOT gonna deny my love.  I know your life has been a trip, and you don’t have to tell me all of it, but I’m not gonna let you shrivel up and be a little retiring wallflower. Life is to be lived.” 

Jasmine telling you that during a Saturday brunch date in February was the key to your heart. She drew you out, and you didn’t see what value you added to her life.

But she loved you anyway. And you loved her, and of course, Anthony was part of the package.  

He was beautiful, loud, talented, and reckless, but he reminded you too fucking much of Dell to be annoyed with him very long.

Your circle had certainly widened from just Craig. That was one thing for which you could thank Mark. You were working on him being a distant memory.  He hadn’t lasted too long in Bay Boys, quitting soon after the musical opened in March.  

Daveed’s hands and feet had ‘slipped’ one too many times during the scene when he was stomping his ass on stage. Mark cited health reasons, and publicly spiraled a bit. He was currently in rehab. 

Again. 

You had not heard from him and that was absolutely fine with you.

Because Jasmine was in Bay Boys and that was her life, the cast and crew became yours as well. Rafael was the type of chaotic creative genius that fascinated you; you could listen to him talk for hours.  

Things with Daveed were more tricky. Ever since that awkwardness with him after the launch party, you’d kept your distance, but you hung out a lot, so you were trying to be friends.

When you and Jas and Ant and Rafa hung out and talked, Daveed was there, smiling shyly and sneaking glances at you, throwing in pearls of wisdom every so often. 

He was so dope and so talented and intelligent and so freaking hot, but you were trying to get yourself together.  You were convinced that night in January had been a mistake. 

You needed some space. And time.  Law school was no joke, and you were in therapy so entanglements was not what was up.

Daveed sensed your hesitancy and decided to stop pursuing you. But he couldn’t stop how he felt.

You were both a little wasted and keyed up the night of the launch party, and despite the way you were beautiful and intelligent and sexy as fucking hell, he was not going to press you. 

Daveed was sure that you two could be something special if you would give it a chance, but he didn’t want to chase you, but he was so gone for you, that if you just nodded your head at him, he would be at your feet.

The attraction was undeniable. There was a crazy little dance you two did that everyone recognized and respected.  This group seemed to know you were fragile, and that you didn’t need to be pushed too far.

But the more they persisted, the more you came out of your shell.  The more you trusted, the more the old Lindy came back. 

Craig noticed first soon after you started hanging with the crew when you were trying to find a place to live. He went to one showing with you and sat you down for a talk.

“Girl, I love the light in your eyes.  I haven’t seen this Lindy since…well in a long time. Stay with me for as long as you want. I know you need to get through this last semester of school, you don’t need one more thing to think about. I’m proud of the work that you’re doing on yourself, Linden.”

You were grateful to Craig.  His place on the Upper West Side was super convenient to Columbia, and not having to think about finding a place was so clutch.  Third year was kicking your ass.

“Besides, I wouldn’t have this place if it wasn’t for…”

“Hush,  I don’t want to hear that.  Dell would have wanted this. I love you cuzzo.” 

=================

Craig came out in a Sully onesie and immediately dragged Jasmine into a conversation about the Met Gala that had happened a few days ago. 

You approached the kitchen where Ant stood, food all around him on the counter. You were whispering. He smiled a secret smile at you.

“I’m so proud of you doing this for Jasmine.  It’s good for you all to get away. I’m glad that she got a little break. She deserves it all.”

Anthony had arranged for this little get together to be a surprise for Jasmine. This was going to be a kickback weekend.

The show was on a four day hiatus while the set was moved to a bigger theatre.  It was a hit and was destined for a long run.

Ant’s green eyes lit up as you kept talking about Jasmine.

“Yeah, she does. And the woman of the hour deserves all the happiness in the world.” He lifted his beer to you.

They way he said that was weird and you were about to ask him what was up with that when the doorbell started ringing, you went to answer it and were stuck there for a few minutes as people started coming in. 

The food and the drinks were flowing while all kinds of characters came in. 

Now they also had Jack Skellingtom, and a Care Bear in the house to add to Big bird, Cookie Monster, Pikachu and Sully. It was an odd cast of characters who were jamming to 90's rap, eating chicken wings and basically tripping like only friends could do.

Then there was Toni, some tag-along chick who showed up with Rafa.  She had on a plain gray onesie.  What a downer.  

You’d  pegged her for  a star fucker who only hung with Rafa because of who he and his friends were.  The girl was too much in everyone's business. 

"Sooooo. You and Mark ARE broken up for real for real. The tabloids say y’all are back together!  I told my friend Susie you weren’t, but she wouldn't believe me."

You  just smiled and didn't confirm or deny, treating Toni like the paparazzi. The girl was oblivious to your hate and just kept talking.

Daveed rescued you. 

"Hey, Toni, show these folks how you can blow. They're setting up the karaoke machine over there. Show us what you're working with. Someone might hook you up with a gig."

Toni perked up and hurried over to Anthony and Craig, who were setting up the lyrics on the big screen to match the karaoke music. Some Bad Boy joints were up.

Rafa was behind them screaming, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan!" 

They were a scene.  You  breathed and relaxed a little.

"Don't stress. She's not coming with us  to the island."

You looked up at the tall, fine Grumpy Care Bear who was nursing some of your special 18-year-old Chivas Regal that you had gotten for graduation. His beautiful smile shined out of his brown face and beneath the curls tumbling out of his hood. 

“I’m not pressed. I’m chilling. You can do what you want. With who you want.”

“She’s not with me. Rafa brought her for the ride to the airport. And it’s not entirely true that I can do what I want. With who I want. Because what if who I want to do doesn’t want to do me?”

You knew what he meant. But you eyed his drink instead of looking at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. That was far from the truth. You didn’t want to get lost in him. And you could see that happening.

Daveed saw your wheels turning. You were over analyzing again.  He’d spent three months observing you every chance he got. He felt like he knew your anxieties.  So fucking smart, but here you were thinking too much.

"Hey Genuis Ass. Want some?" Daveed’s voice was softer as he grinned and offered you some of his drink.  “Or, I could go make you something?” For some reason he wanted you to get loose. 

"Nah, I'm good Diggs.”  For some reason you needed to stay in control.  You played it off by changing the subject. 

“I still can’t believe y’all call me that.” 

Daveed just smiled and nodded, chuckling a little. He craned his neck and looked at it, having to dodge a smack upside the head.

“That ass is genius, you know. That’s the one thing He Who Shall Not Be Named was right about. And you’re one of the smartest humans I know.”  

You had to look at him then. The flecks of gold in his eyes tho.  But you could tell from the slight redness that he was a little zooted.  He didn’t get that way around you a lot, but you knew for the stories that he partied occasionally. 

He and Rafa and that Toni chick must have pre-gamed.  You remembered the last time you two were  tipsy together.You cleared your throat and looked away.

“Why did you lie to that girl? She can’t sing.” You were shaking your head, scowling at Toni’s screeching from the karaoke machine.

He winked at you. D was well on his way to getting LIT.

"What? She can blow.”  Daveed sipped his drink and watched her. 

“She’ll suck your soul out and spit it back in your mouth." Daveed was loose. And so was his mouth. But he didn’t care.

Your mouth was hanging open at Daveed as you wondered what Daveed had done with Toni, what Daveed AND Rafa had done with Toni... 

Shit, you were just going to ask.

"How do you know that she..."

"AWWWW SHEEEIIIITTT! THAT'S MY JAM! REMEMBER THIS LINDY??"

“No, I was like, negative 5..”

You raised your voice as he traveled away from you, smiling. He was not slick.

“Well you missed out being tardy to the party…” 

He was backing toward the mic, knocking it out of Anthony’s hand and starting the rap. Rafa joined him, trading verses.

Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,

Well, it's the underground,

You know that we're down with wutchyalike

Yeah, with wutchyalike, yeah

And though we're usually on the serious tip, check it out:

Tonight we're gonna flip and trip and let it all hang out tonight,

We're gonna say what we like.

'Cause, yo, yo, we want to know how many people in the flow,

Would like to just let yourselves go

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, well tonight's your night.

Just eat food, try not to be crude or rude,

Kill the attitude, chill the serious mood,

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, and doowutchyalike,

Everybody doowutchyalike

Everyone was dancing and Daveed had effectively deflected your question. But you would never forget.

By 8 o’clock, Craig grabbed the mic and motioned for Jasmine to come with him. You had enjoyed some cocktails finally, and just figured they were going to duet Wind Beneath My Wings just like they always did. 

You were actually moving to the music and feeling good.

"Ok guys, whew.  I'm hot.  Is it hot in herrrre?" Craig was fanning himself.

“Whoooo! Nelly!”

You yelled and everyone laughed.

Craig took his hood off and started to unzip his onesie. Jasmine did the same.

You kept dancing nervously, not realizing it, looking around at the others who were also disrobing. You did a double take as D’s abs came into view.  What was going on?

Craig continued.

"Lindy, I just need a minute to talk, can you stop whatever it is you're doing?"  He grinned at you from across the room. "You're still moving Lindy."

You blushed and stopped fidgeting.

"Ummm, Craig, what the..."

One by one people dropped their onesies, all except Toni, who had no clue what was going on. Soon, everyone was standing in Craig’s condo in their swimsuits, looking fine as hell. 

You just looked around, then in your cup wondering if you were too drunk and hallucinating.

“Lindy, you’ve worked real hard, and this past few months have been crazy, so we wanted to do something special for you this weekend, for your graduation, and for your birthday, WHICH IS SUNDAY!!”

Everyone cheered as Jasmine took the mic. “You think this party is for me. Well the joke’s on you bitch, because you have been hosting your own party!”

You opened your mouth, squeaked a little, then spoke,

"But why?.. Everybody?  But what..."

Daveed moved close.

"Damn, you fine," you whispered. 

Your hand flew to your mouth when he smirked in response. Everyone was rolling because turns out, you didn’t whisper.

Daveed cleared his throat. "Thank you. You’re fine yaseif. Anyway, Anthony and Jasmine have a house there, and we’re flying out of JFK tonight.  In about two and a half hours in fact. So we gotta get going.”

You still had only a part of a clue of what was going on. But you couldn't resist all of this.

"Okay? But... I don't have any clothes. And I don’t have a ticket..."

Craig came from the storage room off the kitchen with one of your suitcases. Others started getting their bags as well

"Everybody's shit has been in my house for a week. And girl, you know I got your information. It ain’t nothing but a thang.  Your ticket is ready and waiting. Just sent it to your email.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at Craig as everyone pulled their onesies back up and got their bags together.

Your eyes filled with tears that you hurriedly brushed away. Craig came over and hugged you. Then every else joined in for a group hug.

"You deserve, Lindy. Let us celebrate you."

You looked like you didn't quite believe it, but you went along. You laughed, visibly deciding to go with the flow.

"I'm down!"

Toni was nearby. When the hug broke up, she started asking questions.  Your  patience was wearing thin.

"I don’t believe that all these people really roll like this. Y’all wild. Susie won that bet."

You just continued to look at this fool.

"But isn’t this dope?  All these famous, successful men being so fearless with their love and appreciation for Black women, of all people. Who woulda thunk they didn't want white women?"

Toni just kept saying the wrong thing. It was the "of all people" for you.

You stared daggers at your houseguest. Toni caught the look.

"Wait, are you mixed?"

You narrowed your eyes and said, "Black mixed with Black."

Toni clutched her pearls.

"Oh wow. Didn't mean to offend. I just mean everyone knows Jasmine is mixed, with her dad and all, as black as can be. But her white British mom saved her from his skin tone. I mean, she has braids in now, so you can see it, but all she has to do is blow her hair straight and she can pass..."

Toni jumped when Rafa spoke. She didn't know he was there.

"Toni. Not Jas. She's the homie." 

The look in his ice blue eyes could burn. 

"And you are a Black woman, so you know how dope they are. Why would anyone NOT worship at your feet?"

Lindy just sipped her drink as Craig entered the chat. "Amen!"

"Maybe it is time for you to get going, honey. I might call you when I get back."

Rafa  led Toni to the door as she protested.

"But I was going to take you to the air..."

"And I APPRECIATE you Black woman, but we'll get there.  See you later."

Then Rafa shut the door in her face. Linden discovered she loved him eternally at that moment. She was rolling.

No one mourned Toni’s departure as arrangements were made for cars to take everyone to the airport.

"You and Daveed can ride with us, Rafa." Ant to the rescue.

"Yeah, Jasmine loves to look at my profile." Jas pinched him so hard he jumped.

“Fuck!”

Ant  was screaming as he, Jasmine and Rafa went out the door. 

"Peace! See you at airport security.  If you get nabbed by TSA, you on your own!”

Daveed lingered. “I don’t know if all of us and our bags will fit in one car. Can I ride with you and Lindy, Craig?”

Craig smirked at Daveed, but didn’t say anything. “Of course...you good with that Lindy?”

You tried to keep it light. 

“Sure.. no biggie,” you cleared your throat and headed to the bathroom to make sure you had everything you needed.

=================

By the time you got to your Uber, the traffic was horrible. It took over an hour to get to the airport. You felt both anxious about missing the flight and keyed up about sitting next to Daveed in the car.

His thigh and side pressing into yours in the dark in the back of an Uber Black brought back memories of that reckless night. 

When he put his arm up on the seat behind you, “For more room,” he said, in that voice and flashing that megawatt smile, you were enveloped more into his scent and warmth. You had to control yourself not to melt into him.

Craig was sitting on his phone, sneaking glances at you and smirking the entire ride. He’d insisted that you be in the middle because you were so tiny.

The whole world was against you, you thought, as you and Daveed both stared straight ahead, both flashing back to that January night.

You were the last three people to run through the airline gate just at they were about to close it. All your friends in first class cheered when you took their seats, and Rafa popped a bottle of champagne.

"Talk about cutting it close," Ant commented as Rafa gave Daveed a high five.

Daveed looked at you. You shook your head at him. Somehow, you were sitting next to him. You just decided to let it be and have some time.

“Just make sure you don’t molest me under this blanket, Ms. Marshall,” Daveed intoned when you were settled and given amenities for the night.

The flight attendant had to tell y’all to keep quiet as the cat calls went up.

Welp, you thought. This will be the vibe the entire weekend. 

You weren’t mad at it. You loved these people. And you were safe. You just smiled, settled down, and looked out of the window to watch the lights of New York fade away.

=================

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[thanialis]

Moonlight (Noah x Mc)

| Fluff | Noah x Valeria Ortega | 1,000+ words | 

| Every look, every touch, makes me wanna give him my heart |

Disclaimer- I own none these characters, they belong to Pixelberry’s book My Two First Loves.

In this household, we do not associate with Mason.

Tags @simp-for-villains​ | @catlady0911​

“I never knew, you can hold moonlight in your hands till the night I held you,” Valeria hummed softly in the void.

She pushed up her double bridge reading glasses up subconsciously while she typed away on her laptop. Valeria glanced at the digital clock and a set of panic set in her.

3:00 am

“Almost done,” she told herself. Valeria added finishing touches to the group project she had to present later in the day that she totally did not have to carry the weight of.

You would think a group of AP students would manage to quickly finish a 6-grade project, but it took the day before the due date for them to cram everything last minute onto a PowerPoint and notecards. Valeria was able to keep up each time they had check-ins with their teacher, but having to go over the mistakes of her fellow peers made her want to pull her hair out.

Valeria sighed as she pushed her chair away from the desk with a tired grin. Her eyes swiftly went over the slides before exiting out the website and replayed the current sing once again. She walked to the connecting bathroom and prepared herself for the little sleep she was about to have, but at least that is more than she usually gets on late nights.

The weariness she had and her AirPods in her ears made her oblivious to what was going on in her bedroom. Valeria spat the toothpaste out, rinsing her mouth out, and began her skincare routine. When she had finished, she carefully closed the door behind her and trudged to her desk to close all her applications as she sang lowly.

“Sweet like candy, but he’s such a man.”

Turning off all the lamp, she turned around to be startled by the looming figure sitting on her window bay. Anxiously, she pulled both her AirPods out at his presence.

“Noah? What the hell? You gave me a heart attack,” Valeria breathed heavily, clutching her chest, “What are you doing here? It’s a school night?” Valeria inched forward to Noah who sat too calmly to her liking.

“It’s nice to see you too,” he husky voice filled the room. She could hear the hint of tiredness in his voice and… sadness? Or was it fear? Whatever it was, her heartbeat rapidly at the fact that he was going through something. She bit her lip before putting the pods back into the case and moved over to the window where he sat. “You have a surprisingly nice voice. What were you singing?”

“I asked a questioned first, why are you here? Is everything alright?” Her hands raised to his cheek to see a small cut on his cheek. The pointer finger traced ghostly among the cut, “Is this recent?” He replied in a shrug though he would never admit to her that he loved the feeling of her velvet fingers on him.

“I must’ve got it while climbing.”

“That’s weird… Mason never gets these types of cuts when he climbs,” she teased lightly, eyeing the clenched fists, “I am only teasing, no need to hurt anyone.” Valeria grabs his hand and helped the fist relax against hers.

“…I had a nightmare and I thought maybe-“ he could feel the heat rising from his neck, thinking about it now made him feeling foolish, “Maybe seeing you could calm me,” Noah clears his throat while he averted her eyes.

Valeria felt the heat in cheeks while her heart fluttered at his words.

Did he come all the way to see me?

His awkwardness only made her want to scream out in adoration at how whipped he was for, but for his sake, she didn’t mention it in fear of him closing back up.

“How do you feel now?” Valeria whispered, her hand pushing his bedhead hair out of his eyes. His black eyes never seemed to terrify her though it made her only want to stare at them all day. She couldn’t believe how beautiful they were despite the coldness that was present in them.

“Surprisingly better,” he snorts and shakes his head in disbelief, “I thought it was stupid and maybe it was weird, but now I don’t want to leave.”

Valeria offered a tired smile before her eyes flickered to the bed, she wasn’t going to believe what she was going to say next, “Do you want to stay the night? My dad is in surgery right now and won’t be back till after I left for school.”

Noah’s head snapped at the suggestion.

Was she being serious?

Never in the world had he had ever met someone who would be so kind to him. To give him a shot at something that could feel like this. The racing of his heart scared him so much that he wanted to dial 911. Noah couldn’t contain the sudden anxiety he had whenever she was around, the mere thought of her crossing his mind made his heart race.

Valeria was the first one to ever show compassion towards him, to be treated fairly, like he was human.

He nodded hesitantly which only made him want to jump out the window.

Valeria pulled the sheets from her bed and laid to the side to the wall and patted on the space next to her. Noah gulped as he followed after her, kicking the heavy shoes off of him and quietly rested next to her.

Awkwardly, they laid next to each other in the dark. Noah watched the ceiling fan trying his best to distract himself from the fact that her doe eyes were watching him instead.

“I was singling the song called Moonlight. It’s one of my favorites from Ariana,” she voiced despite the exhaustion that has pressed down on her.

Noah nodded before he hastily pulled the petite figure closer to his body. He could hear the quiet squeal escape her lips when he wrapped his arms around her.

“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” Valeria asked. Her body was slightly above his so when he brought her closer, she rested her chin on top of his while her fingers ran through his silk, black hair.

“Not much to talk about,” he sighs, “It was about my dad…”

Valeria didn’t need much to know to drop the subject. Instead, she hummed the melody to the song she has sung previously, “He’s so bossy, he makes me dance. Trynna sit in the back of his whip and he just cancels my plans. Sweet like candy, but he’s such a man. He knows just what he does when he’s holding me tight and he calls me moonlight too.”

Valeria felt his steady breaths against her chest as she pressed a very light kiss on his head.

Through the two hours of sleep that Valeria managed to get, she felt the body next to her cling onto her. Valeria would wake up each hour to hear him murmur something in his sleep some nonsense, and sometimes she felt him begin to shuffle in her embrace which only made her hold him tighter until he felt relaxed.

5:50 am

“Where are you going?” Valeria mumbled, her eyes peeking at the clock.

“I want to have time to get home and ready for the day ahead of us,” he whispered, “Go back to sleep, your alarm doesn’t go off until another ten minutes.”

Valeria's eyes wandered to Noah, the moonlight highlighting his muscles as he pulled his leather jacket on.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked. Valeria answered in a hoarse hum before hugging her blanket tighter, missing the warmth. “I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up.”

Tiptoeing to the window, Noah glanced over his shoulder to the sleeping beauty, muttering to himself.

“You’re my moonlight, Val.”

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 19

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat more warnings: i’m going to start including detailed warnings to the very ends of chapters in order to avoid ruining the shock factor in chapters while still being mindful of potential individual triggers. open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the extra tags if you so choose.

Penny did not, in fact, stop earning extra swats at all and by day 3 had stopped sitting on her butt entirely, much to the quiet amusement of the soldiers. Steve had ordered more silk shorts and a pair of joggers that were soft enough she could wear them without too much pain. She was petulant and precious and far too tired to be as angry as they knew she wanted to be. He and Bucky had rotated taking days off since the incident, doing their best to try to engage with her. 

Some of the things they'd learned were as follows: 

1.    Penny's father had died when she was very young and she didn't remember him. He'd been Israeli, Jewish, and had lots of family Penny had never met. Peter's father was who she meant if she said 'my dad', a man from Queens who'd married her mother and loved Penny like she was his own (she missed her parents awfully, at all times and got tearful while talking about them). 

2.    Penny called herself stupid and dumb and an idiot on a regular basis and truly believed that Peter had gotten every IQ point her mother had to offer; it was a bad habit and bothered both of the soldiers—she was so smart and they regularly had difficulty keeping up with her intellect, her thought process was just very different from most people's. 

3.    Penny liked watching TV and movies and anything that had come out since her uncle Ben died was new and exciting. She would let them hold her for hours while they watched movies and talked through all of them with a witty and precious commentary. She didn't care for movies that made her cry. 

4.    Penny hated reading. Steve was pretty sure it was because it was difficult for her and wondered if she had the disability that flipped letters around but couldn't ask lest she got upset. If there was something that needed to be read in a movie or show, the soldiers had taken to reading it out loud immediately and unprompted.

5.    Penny desperately enjoyed and craved skin contact, to a point where Steve and Bucky were wearing less and less clothing because Penny would come to them when they weren't wearing shirts. She would ask to watch movies or TV because it was an excuse to lay on them with her cheek against their skin. Her tiny shorts were a constant but she'd shifted to wearing tank tops instead of long sleeves shirts and the soldiers liked it.

They'd thought from the beginning that skin contact could be their ticket in, Penny preened under careful touches even if she tried to hide it but it became more and more clear as the days went on. The daily spankings made her incredibly sensitive, mentally, and the extra contact seemed to be a coping mechanism. On the first day she'd tried to curb the desire with the kittens, carrying them around as much as possible but it quickly became clear it wasn't quite the same. While the little short-legged kitten had come to basically live in the spot between and directly above Penny's boobs, the orange one with impossibly chubby cheeks was more distant and preferred to simply be in the same room with people rather than held and touched (Bucky adored both kittens but the fucking tiny legs killed him, he loved it so goddamn much). But kittens were not a good replacement for a very warm super-soldier. 

Steve had gone for broke the night before, sleeping in a pair of briefs instead of joggers and a beater. Penny had stayed firmly on his chest the entire night while Bucky, wearing boxers and a t-shirt, had been left with just a single cuddly kitten tucked up under his chin. The brunet had gotten up early for work, scowling jealously at the way Penny cuddled against their lover so sweetly; he almost told JARVIS to call in for him, he could've shucked his shirt and joined the pile of warm sleepy bodies. Tony was still not entirely pleased with them though (especially once Steve had dropped their plan to head into the Rockies for a few months) so it was better to head into the office. He kissed Steve soundly and pressed his lips gently to the back of Penny's head before heading out, depositing the kitten in his hands onto the cat tree in the living room on his way. 

Steve laid awake in bed for another two hours, savoring the way Penny felt against him. Their babydoll was small and precious and fit so well against him. Her legs splayed wide over the smallest part of his waist, her head cushioned against his chest. She'd been sleeping or laying on them in similar positions since the first spanking (she'd even let Bucky carry her around after her spanking the day before, as long as his hands stayed far away from her ass). He could feel her slowly starting to wake up and ran his hands up and down her back under her tank top. 

He wasn't expecting the way she started to tremble, or the tears spilling down onto his chest. She didn't make any noise but her breaths came in little hiccups, her head tilting further down as she tried to curl into herself. 

"Baby? Penny doll, what's wrong?" He sat up, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist and enough of an angle to his torso that her weight wouldn't press her down to sit on her ass. 

She said something, but it was disrupted by hiccups and a small sob and Steve's heart broke just a little when he couldn't understand. When Penny spoke in Hebrew it was usually on accident, she was either too distressed or too scared to notice she wasn't speaking English. Steve's ears perked at the sound of bells, eyes going to the door of their bedroom where both kittens were trotting into the room. The short-legged kitten often appeared whenever Penny cried and the orange one followed but stayed near the door. It was far too small to jump onto the bed so Steve dangled an arm over the edge until he felt fur brush his fingertips, scooping the kitten up and depositing it between his and Penny's chests. The little thing purred like a motorboat, tucking into Penny's shirt and between her boobs where it generally spent most of its time. 

"Shhh, baby, it's okay," Steve brushed his lips against her temple and her cheek, continuing to run his hands under her shirt, "can you tell me why you're upset?" 

The sounds she made were borderline heartbreaking and he figured for a minute she wasn't actually capable of answering until she spoke haltingly between hiccups, "it hurts, it h-hurts, s-so much." 

Penny's ass was already shades of blue and purple, even if Steve was sure Bucky had gone easy on her the evening before. The little smacks she earned in between spankings only served to ignite the burn. 

"Oh, doll," Steve cooed, his expression pulled tight and his chest feeling even tighter; he hated the distress she was in, the pain, "hold on, I've got the arnica right here." 

She whined when he moved her legs and slipped off her shorts, leaving her naked from the waist down, and grabbed the tube from the bedside table. They had hidden several of them throughout the apartment so they'd be handy at all times. In general, Penny appreciated the relief it provided but the application made her cry even harder, even as Steve used the gentlest touches he could. Her ass was still hot to the touch and would be for days and days. 

"All done baby, I'm all done," he'd applied the cream as thickly as possible, a visible layer on her bruises, "let's leave your shorts off, okay? You don't need them." 

Personally, he'd like for her to walk around naked at all times, he liked seeing her little pussy peeking out, but it really would feel best for Penny not to have anything on her ass. She was still crying, not quite as hard but he could still feel the tears against his skin. 

"Okay baby, okay," he murmured, lips returning to her temple, "we're gonna skip your spanking today, alright? We can't tell Bucky or he'll make me, so you have to pretend I did understand?" 

Penny nodded tearfully against his chest, "thank you, thank you, thank—" 

"Shhh, it's okay baby, it's okay." 

Steve spent the entire day with Penny in his arms, carrying her carefully from room to room or laying on his chest on the couch or in the bed. The pillow on her chair in the dining room (her Princess Pillow, a term Penny did not like and had led to her refusing to use it for meal times—but only until dinner on the first night, after two spankings had left her very uncomfortable) went unused just because she never actually sat on her own, instead rested on Steve's hip while they both ate over the sink. 

He honestly hadn't intended for anything sexual when he forewent her shorts that morning and he knew Penny didn't have any salacious goals either. It happened purely on accident while they lounged on the couch watching an action movie, Penny enjoying the way Steve could pick apart the movie's shortcomings. She'd sat up for some reason and her pussy had ground against his abs causing her entire body to still, an aborted noise escaping her lips as her clit hit a ridge just perfectly. Steve's hands found her hips quickly and he kept her from lifting up, gently stroking her bare skin. 

"Hey, hey, you're alright," he murmured softly, hoping not to trigger an escape attempt, "that felt good, didn't it babydoll? Here, do it again, lemme help." 

He used his hold to manipulate her hips, rolling her cunt over the bumps of his abs again, twisting her slightly at the end to really grind her clit. She moaned, breaths coming just slightly faster as he continued to move her hips in the same pattern, carefully holding her to prevent her ass from brushing anything that would cause pain. 

"That's good doll, that's so good," he praised, feeling her thighs clench ever so slightly as she started to work herself against him, "good girl, Penny, chase it. Make yourself feel good baby." 

Her wetness spread over his abs, aiding the slide of her cunt against his skin. She even canted her hips the way he'd manipulated her, the twist at the end dragging her clit against the ridges of his abs in a way that made her pant. Her lower lip found its way between her teeth and Steve did his best not to moan at the sight; she was working herself over beautifully above him. Her pussy was so slick he imagined he could feel her arousal dripping down his abs and rolling over his skin onto the couch. She rocked hard, hands coming to rest on his chest for leverage and he could see how close she was and the exact second she started to get frustrated. A whiney moan escaped her, the twist of her hips more pronounced as she tried and failed to bring herself off. 

"I—I can't, " she whined, thighs clenching tighter, "I can't—"

"Shh precious, come here, let me help you," he lifted her easily by the waist, pulling her up until her pussy hovered just over his mouth, arms coming around her thighs to hold her tightly, "I'll fix it, baby, I'll make you cum." 

His mouth sealed over her clit in and she yelped just before a long moan escaped her lips. Steve was good at eating pussy and enjoyed it deeply, the taste of her filling his mouth and coating his tongue. She was musky and tangy and he decided he could eat her out for hours if she'd let him. Her pussy clenched as he swirled his tongue inside of her, her thighs twitching as his nose bumped her clit. He waited until he could hear her begging for release before refocusing on her clit, the sensitive little button all but throbbing under his tongue as he began a truly exquisite onslaught. 

"Oh.. Ohhhh, I—oh no, oh no," he smirked against her cunt as she seemed to realize she was about to cum all over his face, her cheeks lighting up red at the thought and her thighs attempting to gain enough strength to lift herself up. 

Steve tightened his arms around her thighs and held her firmly, pussy sealed against his mouth with no room for squirming. Her lower body began desperately twitching as her orgasm built. He focused his tongue on her clit, working happily as she got louder and louder, her hips desperately rocking in his hold. The noise she made when she came nearly made his pop off in his briefs, loud and pitched and desperate. It tapered into breathy pants and whines and he stopped just before she became too sensitive for comfort, tongue lapping up into her cunt. Her cum was the same earthy flavor as her arousal and he cleaned her until she started to squirm. 

Her face was so endearingly red when he resituated her on his abs, directly onto the wet spot her pussy had made on his skin. She couldn't meet his eyes and he smiled, stroking his hands over her thighs gently. 

"Lay down baby, the movies not finished yet," he told her softly, pulling her down to rest against his chest again with her head on his peck and she stayed that way for the next two hours, until Bucky for home.  

Bucky's eyebrow had gone up when he walked in after work, the first thing he saw being Penny's bare ass and pussy from between her splayed legs where she lay over Steve's chest on the couch once again. The blond had signed 'don't ask-don't ask-don't ask' quickly before Bucky could even open his mouth, instead choosing to walk over and kiss both of them before heading into the bedroom to change. Well, mostly he just undressed down to his briefs and called it a day, obviously clothing was optional if not frowned upon in their apartment at the moment. His day had been relatively easy, the interrogation he'd done had gone by fast and after that it was just paperwork. Tony's companies, both legal and illegal, had a whole slew of enemies. Steve was good at finding them and Bucky was good at retrieving information from them. 

"Remember what we talked about precious," Steve murmured to her as Bucky walked back into the room, the blond's eyes finding his with a careful expression on his face, "be a good girl, be sweet." 

A squeaky meow interrupted his thoughts and Bucky reached down to scoop his favourite kitten into his arms. The orange one brushed against his ankles with a quiet purr, a little welcome home, before she retreated into the cat tree once again. He was worried because Penny hadn't named either of them yet but didn't know how to bring it up without upsetting her, and she was already so upset all the time. In his head he called the short one Munchkin and the orange one Chubs (for her little chubby cheeks). 

"How was your day?" He asked casually, noting the way Penny's eyes met his from under dark lashes like she had a secret. 

Judging from the way Steve gave a short 'later' hand motion, she did, but it wasn't something the blond was worried about and that meant Bucky wasn't either. Besides, he liked seeing the life in her pretty eyes today (she was half-naked on Steve's chest, unconcerned that her legs were spread, and looked almost happy—she could've killed 6 people and bathed in their blood and he wouldn't have cared because she almost smiled at him). 

"I already called down for dinner, it should get here in just a few minutes," Steve sat up, cautious of how Penny was arranged to make sure no pressure was put on her ass, "Penny needs arnica and her shorts, can you do it while I run to the bathroom?”

Bucky nodded and swept her up into his arms, cradling her tightly in his arms before falling back onto the couch and grinning when she immediately glared up at him, “I missed you today baby.” 

“I didn’t like that.” 

“You don’t like anything I do precious,” he pressed a kiss teasingly against her forehead, “let’s get this arnica on your poor ass, huh? Steve must’a already given you your spanking for today.” 

“Yeah.” Bucky’s eyebrows jumped high on his forehead; it didn’t take a master interrogator to figure out she was lying.

The hesitation to answer was the most obvious give away but she wouldn’t look him in the eyes either, a finger coming up to his chest to trace shapes against his skin. Lying to him was ballsy but he remembered the hand signals he’d received from Steve upon entering the apartment, the blond’s cryptic words to their babydoll while she thought Buck couldn’t hear. So instead of calling her out for the deception her grabbed a bottle of arnica from the end table and started very gently rubbing a layer into the bruised skin on her ass. 

Her little whimpers hurt his heart, but the full tears were what made it crack. She was likely at her breaking point for pain, where the punishment didn’t fulfill its purpose anymore. He’d bet Steve had realized the same thing and had held off. 

“Almost done babydoll. Steve! Bring her shorts with you when you come!” 

There was more squeaky meowing and he dropped his hand over the side of the couch without looking, scooping up Munchkin and dropping her onto his chest right between himself and Penny. The kitten hated being away from Penny even after such a short time. 

“What movies did you watch today? Have I seen them?” 

Penny hesitated for just a few seconds before she gave a short commentary, not noticing the way Steve walked out of the bedroom and up behind her. A quick few hand signals ‘food-sleep-talk’ told him that the blond wanted Penny fed, in bed, and asleep before they got a chance to talk and flashed and ‘okay’ behind her back. It didn’t take long to fulfill the list, Penny was out like a light with a very small dosage of sleeping pills (not enough for her to notice, just enough that she’d sleep through the night). 

The soldiers kind of assumed it was like having a toddler; during the day they had to watch what they said, if they got much of a chance to talk at all, and the dynamic between them had changed while they focused on getting Penny settled. Nights were when they had the chance to talk, it helped that they didn’t need a lot of sleep, and they honestly kind of enjoyed lying in the dark with their babydoll laid out across their chests, talking quietly over the sound of her breathing. It was certainly a good way to decompress after a long day and the pair fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, Penny on Bucky’s chest and Steve wrapped around them both from the side, a kitten or two thrown into the mix somewhere. 

Bucky woke immediately when the blond shifted, slowly starting to wake up for work. It was Steve’s turn to go in and he had a meeting with Tony too—Steve was much better at dealing with the eccentric billionaire than Bucky was, especially when it came to the topic of Penny. Despite the fact Steve had been the one who wanted her originally, Bucky was the one who’d become more overtly possessive and he didn’t like Tony butting into their business. 

“Take care of her, I’ll see you in the evening,” Steve bent over to kiss him lightly, lips trailing to brush against his cheek lovingly before he stroked a hand through Penny’s hair and gave pressed his lips to the back of her head, “love you.” 

“Love you, punk, go to work,” the brunet ignored Steve’s wry smile, instead shifting Penny to lay next to him on her side, curling his body tightly around her and tucking her up against his torso while Steve left.

She’d be up in an hour or so, would probably want to go lay in the hammock in front of the windows. She sunned herself the same way the kittens did, taking little cat naps in the sunshine between attempts at knitting. He could feel the small changes in her breathing as she started to come to and smiled; her forehead burrowed against his chest, her nose brushing his skin lightly. But then she started to tremble and a small whimper escaped her and she was reaching for him and there were tears in her eyes—

Bucky swept her into his arms immediately, carefully arranging her the same way they’d been doing for days to keep the pressure off her ass, “Penny, talk to me baby, why’re you crying? Did you have a bad dream?” 

“The stuff—the lotion—” she hiccuped and he felt her hips jump in his hands when the side of her ass brushed his leg and she yelped, “it hurts, it—”

“JARVIS, remedies for bruises,” Bucky ordered, immediately lifting them both off of the bed and heading into the bathroom. 

“Because this is the second morning Ms. Parker has woken up in pain, I have taken it upon myself to order several items to be sent to the apartment, including hypericum perforatum. There is an aloe vera plant in the living room which can be used for pain relief after a bath, which I shall add witch hazel and lavender to, along with epsom salts for the swelling.” 

“Thanks buddy,” he responded absently, the steam from the hot water immediately settling over his skin when he stepped past the doorway; the bathtub was already filling, “can you hold your weight baby? Just for a minute.” 

Penny nodded tearfully against his chest and he carefully rested her on her feet, gently manipulating the waistband of her shorts over the curve of her ass. He could see in the mirror that her skin had retained its deep red tone, purple and blue splotches concentrated on the fullness of either cheek. It wasn’t anything permanently damaging, just very painful. He pulled her tank top off and dropped it to the side with her shorts, listening as the faucet kicked off. 

“Alright baby, let’s get you into the bath,” He quickly shucked his briefs and stepped into the water, helping Penny in after even when her breathing hitched at the movement, “you’ll lay against my chest, just like usual.” 

Once they were situated, Penny with her head tucked under his chin and his arms around her back, Bucky couldn’t help but smile. He could see why Steve hadn’t gone through with her spanking yesterday, there was simply no need. Penny might not have trusted or liked them but she reached for them. When she was in pain she reached for them to help, to fix it, and knew that they would, where in the past you couldn’t have gotten her to ask them for anything, let alone help. 

It was a significant step in the right direction, Penny succumbing to a piece of her new life. She didn’t chafe under his hold, wasn’t stone still or angry. She was in pain and seeking comfort and help and she knew he’d provide it. He knew she was a stubborn little thing, the concession of just a bit of her space wasn’t the end of her fighting, but it meant something and the soldiers could work with that. During interrogations, the systematic deconstruction of a person’s will and mind meant that when one wall fell the others were very close to follow. Penny could still fight if she wanted, but it was only a matter of time before she conceded the battle. 

Patience wasn’t Bucky’s strong suit but he would wait as patiently as he could for her to crumble in his arms, after all, it wouldn’t take long now. 

content warnings: grinding, dubcon cunnilingus, face sitting

[firstdegreefangirl]

Love Starts With a Toothbrush

Word Count: 3772

Original Pub Date: 5 June 2020

Relationships: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Author’s Notes: I really should be banned from listening to country radio in the car, but this is completely and utterly inspired by Brad Paisley’s song “Toothbrush.” If you haven’t listened to that yet, check it out here

Read on ao3 here

Tagging: @theycallmebobbob @rebeccaofsbfarm @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly

Buck looks at himself in the mirror, pondering his own reflection and the way the white foam covers his chin before breaking his own eye contact and tipping his chin back. He focuses his gaze on his jawline as he pulls the razor over his skin, watching the blades slice through the light stubble and push the shaving cream out of the way.  

His touch is light, his strokes are careful, and he can’t think of a time he’s shaved more carefully since he was 17 and half-convinced that he’d slit his own throat with a Bic safety razor identical to the one he’s holding now.  

The stakes tonight are equally high, just as life-or-death, but in an entirely different way. He thinks about it as he rinses the razor, flicks his thumb downward across the blades to clear any stuck hairs from between them. He’s going out for dinner with Eddie, just like they’ve done probably hundreds of times in the time they’ve been friends. This time is different though, in the way Eddie couldn’t look him in the eye when he asked, the way he’d tentatively added “... it could be a date, if you’re OK with that,” when he’d mentioned an Indian restaurant he’d been meaning to try.  

Buck wonders if Eddie is feeling the same amount of pressure he is tonight, if he’d tried on half a dozen shirts before settling on his favorite go-to, then realized that he needed to take the shirt off and shaved before he gets dressed. 

Part of him hopes that Eddie isn’t so uncertain about the night they’re going to share, hopes that he’ll have enough bravado for them both. But he also wants this to mean as much to Eddie as it means to him.  

Because it means everything, he realizes as he drags a wet washcloth across his skin, lets the warm water clean the last dregs of shaving cream from his face and rinses it out. He leans up over the sink, examining his skin closely to make sure he didn’t miss any stray hairs. As blond as he is, it’s not like they’ll show up, but he still wants to make sure everything is perfect tonight.  

Satisfied with the shave, he shakes the razor dry and sets it back in the medicine cabinet, reaching for the tube of toothpaste on the shelf above.

He squirts a blob of the mint-flavored gel onto his toothbrush and sticks it into his mouth. Dental health isn’t usually such a focus for Buck; most of the time he squishes the foam around his mouth and spits as soon as every tooth is mostly brushed.  

Tonight, though, he scrubs every tooth carefully: front, back and top. He angles the brush down to get his gum line, and even gags himself when he brushes his tongue. It might be the first and only time he’s actually brushed for two minutes, and he briefly wonders how weird it would be for him to call his dentist in the morning and brag.  

Very weird, he decides as he plucks a soft blue paper cup from the dispenser on the counter and fills it with water to rinse his mouth out. As the foam swirls down the drain, he rubs his favorite aftershave across his hands and his hands over his face, wincing at the sting against the freshly shaven skin.

It’s the scent he saves for special occasions; he can’t remember the last time he wore it, the last time something felt important enough to warrant the high-quality leather notes that pair perfectly with the fresh citrus scent of his best cologne.

He grabs his shirt from where he’s hung it on the shower door handle and shrugs it on. The buttons are straightforward, but take just enough time that he decides he needs to run a comb lightly through the edges of his hair again.

When that’s done, he looks down at his phone. 7:28, the screen reads, and Eddie is supposed to pick him up at 7:30. He makes it halfway down the steps, though, before he’s turning around and ducking back into the bathroom long enough to swish some mouthwash around and rinse it down the sink.

It’ll probably wear off before they’re even through eating, but hey, who can blame a guy for trying?

Buck doesn’t think about it again until Eddie is walking him up to the front door at the end of the night. But the hope that the mouthwash is lingering on his breath is his last coherent thought as Eddie backs him up against his doorbell and leans in for what has to be the longest single kiss Buck has ever had.

They’re both breathing hard when Eddie breaks away, lingering just long enough to murmur a ‘goodnight’ against his lips before he walks away, leaving Buck standing there in a daze, hoping he’s not imagining the minty taste Eddie left behind in his mouth.  

Two years later, to the day, they’re dropping Chris off at Pepa’s, promising to pick him up on Sunday night and waving from Eddie’s truck as they back down the driveway. Buck looks at Eddie as they turn the corner, sees the way he’s worrying his bottom lip.  

“Hey, you’re sure about this? We can go pick him up, bring him with us. Or ditch the plan altogether, do the big ceremony in a few months.”

“No, I’m sure. I want to marry you tonight. And I like the idea of that being just for us.” Eddie sighs, and Buck wishes he believed him. “I just … feel bad for lying about the double shifts all weekend, telling Bobby we needed the days off for a ‘family thing.’”

“This is a family thing. It’s us, becoming a family. Legally.” Buck rests his hand on Eddie’s hand, wrapped around the gearshift.  

“We’re already family, Buck.”

“I know, but this makes it official. And we’ll talk to Bobby and Athena when we get back, see if we can borrow their backyard for a big reception. Everything else can be for everyone else, but this? This here, our wedding? It’s for us.”  

Eddie nods and releases his lip.

“Yeah. You … you’re right. Pre-wedding jitters, am I right?”

They laugh together, relaxing as Eddie drives them a couple hours up the coast. He’s not sure where they’re going, taking directions from Buck, who’s reading off of a list of turns he’s scribbled on the back of a junk mail credit card application.

He’d taken every other aspect of this to the n-th degree, as soon as Eddie suggested that they stop trying to plan the perfect wedding for their friends and family and just have the perfect wedding for them. Just the two of them, wearing the best suits they already owned and brand new matching ties, standing somewhere beautiful and private to pledge their lives to each other.  

Buck had looked for close to a week before finding the perfect spot: a tiny beachfront town with a little wedding chapel. He’d found the referral on a same-sex wedding forum, with a litany of stories and photos from couples praising the picturesque waters and friendly staff, willing to personalize intimate ceremonies for a reasonable cost.

All he had asked Eddie to do was make sure their bags were packed and pick him a ring. Everything else was a surprise, from Eddie’s brushed steel wedding band with its fine gold stripe pressed into the pocket of Buck’s jeans to the three tiny crystals on the tie clips: each of their birthstones and Christopher’s in the middle.

The ceremony is everything they could have imagined; every last detail Buck planned went off without a hitch. And he couldn’t help but privately noticing that the officiant who pronounced them husband and husband resembled the surviving half of the elderly gay couple he’d met on the car accident scene only a couple of months after Eddie came into his life.  

Mitchell, he’s pretty sure.

It’s coincidence, he’s sure, but it feels fitting nonetheless. Even if it was still over a year before their first date, talking to that man, hearing him tell Buck that a truly lasting love is made, not found, was a pivotal moment in his relationship with Eddie. It was the first time he let himself consider making something more than a friendship with him, so it feels fitting that Mitchell would visit him again today, give him a sign that he’s in the right place, marrying the right person for him.

Not that he needed a sign, not after he saw the way Eddie’s eyes watered when he ran his finger across Buck’s tie, understanding the gems the moment he saw them.  

He knew he was making the right choice.  

Even if he did have to go all the way down to the lobby of their hotel that night, get a couple of flimsy plastic toothbrushes from the desk agent.

“Really, Eddie? The only thing you had to do was pack our bags. You got the suits, you got my shampoo, but you left our toothbrushes on the counter?” He rolled his eyes as Eddie shook the toiletries bag open on the bedspread, no toothbrushes to be found.  

Of course, Eddie was fresh out of the shower, so it fell on Buck to go downstairs, sheepishly explain that he hadn’t packed for their trip (even if he did preen a little bit when he said ‘my husband was in charge of the luggage,’ the new title feeling perfectly at home on his tongue) and ask if they had any for sale.  

The clerk had come back with two barely opaque white-handled brushes that Buck is pretty sure he could have broken in half easier than a pencil. But they’re free, and they’re better than nothing, so he smiles gratefully at her and accepts the brushes and packets of toothpaste.

After their teeth are brushed, when Eddie is tucked in and waiting for Buck to join him in bed for their first night as a married couple, he snaps a quick picture of the cheap toothbrushes.  

It’s the sort of story that will make a good memory years from now, he knows already, and he never wants to forget this moment. He never wants to forget the way he feels two days later, either, packing up to leave and slipping the disposable toothbrushes into the bottom of his bag, tucking them away to be remembered and laughed about later.  

Their love wasn’t found; they made it between toothbrushes and minty fresh kisses along the way.

The first day off Buck and Eddie have together as husbands is spent boxing Buck’s loft and moving his life into Eddie’s home.  

Their home.

They’d talked about it, over breakfast on the beach the day after their wedding, thrown around the idea of buying a new house, a place that they picked together and decorated as a family. But ultimately, they decided that Eddie’s place was almost perfectly located between the station and Christopher’s school, it was already accessible for him, and Buck has long felt at home in Eddie’s living room.

He didn’t need a new house, he just needed Eddie in his bed and Christopher right down the hall, every night for the rest of his life.  

So he’s the only one moving, a whopping 17 minutes from where he had lived. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Especially when Eddie suggests redecorating after Buck gets settled, giving the house a new feel for their new lives together. It’s just turning to summer, the days growing warmer and longer enough that they can start with the backyard. Eddie puts out grass seed, plants a couple of twigs that will hopefully grow into lemon and orange trees.  

Buck takes it upon himself to watch a dozen YouTube videos and visit the hardware store, borrowing Eddie’s truck to haul cords of lumber home with the promise of a picket fence around the back of the house.  

He’s never built a fence before, but Bobby lends him a small table saw, spends an afternoon standing in the yard and teaching him how to use it before leaving him to finish building his fence. As with everything, Buck throws himself completely into the project; every spare moment he’s got is enough time to cut a couple of boards, drill a few holes.  

It’s one of the most fun projects he’s ever embarked on, especially when Christopher starts joining him in the backyard, plopping down on the fresh grass with a book and reading out loud to him, or telling him stories from his latest sleepover. Sometimes, when he’s got a brand new board, all 10-feet of it to control against the vibration of the saw blade, he’ll ask Chris for a hand. He’s got a tiny pair of safety goggles, bulky enough to go over his regular glasses, and kid-sized work gloves, and he’s always excited to help hold the long end of the board, tiptoeing forward as Buck pushes his end across the saw blade.  

Digging the post holes is its own kind of challenge, especially when driving his foot against the top of the shovel makes the pain in his leg flare up. But for those moments, Eddie is there. He’s always watching Buck out the kitchen window or from the back deck; Buck can feel his gaze following him around the yard, especially when the high heat of the summer gets the best of him and he pulls his T-shirt off.  

But when his leg start to hurt, almost like Eddie can feel the pain too, he appears beside Buck, pulls the shovel gently from his hands.  

“Here, I got it,” he says, squeezing Buck’s arm gently. “I’ll dig for a bit.” When Buck starts to protest, tries to tell Eddie that he’s fine, he can keep working, Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I know you can, but it’s almost lunchtime, and if you don’t cook, I’ll have to.”  

They both know it’s a cop-out. Eddie can handle sandwiches and pouring lemonade from the gallon jug in the fridge. But it means that Buck can take a break, sneak back to the bathroom and swallow a couple Advil when no one is looking, without having to admit that his physical limitations stop him sooner than they did before his myriad of near-death experiences.  

It takes a few months, but then their fence is up, pine boards marking the edges of a backyard that Christopher keeps mentioning is probably big enough that they could get a dog now, since he’d have somewhere to run.

“Maybe for your birthday, Superman.” Eddie ruffles his hair, shares a knowing glance with Buck. The three of them admire the handiwork for a few minutes longer, then Buck jumps and pulls Eddie’s truck keys out of his pocket.

“Ooh, hang on, I forgot the last part. Chris, you up for a trip to the hardware store? Think you can keep me on track?”  

“Sure! Dad, I gotta go make sure Bucky doesn’t get lost.” With that, they’re gone, chasing each other out the new gate and around the house. Buck hears Eddie’s confused shout, and feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He doesn't have to look at the message to know that Eddie has sent him a long string of question marks, but he and Chris have a mission.

They’re back 45 minutes later, Buck hauling a five-gallon bucket in each hand as he follows Christopher around the back gate. He hears the back door open as he’s taking the plastic sack from Chris and pulling out paint trays and rollers.  

“Alright, what’d we talk about, kiddo?”

“Dad! Buck says I can help paint, but only if you wrap me up in a trash bag first so I don’t get messy!”  

Eddie laughs but leads Chris into the house. They emerge a few minutes later, Chris covered in a trash bag with sloppy holes cut into the bottom for his head and arms. The three of them spend the afternoon painting, and most of the next day too, but when they’re finished, the picket fence is a crisp white, contrasting starkly with the grass around it.

Except the parts of the lawn that got their own coat of white paint, but Buck can’t bring himself to care. The grass will grow, he or Eddie will cut it short and no one will be the wiser. And they’ll still have their backyard, with the white picket fence that he built, for his family.  

He’s pretty sure this sort of thing is the best that his life is ever going to get, that nothing could ever top the feeling of standing here, Eddie’s arm around his waist and Chris leaning against their legs, admiring something they made together.  

Buck grunts as he lifts their toddler out of the bathtub and wraps him in a towel.

“Jeez, you’re getting big, Trey.” He rubs the 4-year-old's hair dry and helps him tie the belt on a tiny camouflage-print bathrobe. “Alright, what’s next?”  

“Brush teeth!” He shrieks with delight and grins at his papa.  

“That’s right, let’s go brush your teeth with Daddy and Chris!” Buck scoops him up, without grunting this time since he can get a better angle to lift from, and carries him down the hallway to the master bathroom. Eddie and Christopher are already standing in front of the mirror, trying to untangle Chris’s curly hair enough that it’s not totally insufferable in the morning.  

He’s 11 now, old enough that he can get most of it on his own, but there’s a patch at the back of his head that’s hard to reach, so Eddie helped him with that while Buck and Trey had a rubber duck war in the bathtub.  

“Daddy! Time to brush teeth!” Trey grabs for the side of Eddie’s pants leg as Buck situates him on the step stool beside the counter. “You can help me?”  

They’ve had Trey for almost two years now, and he’s always been very diplomatic about dividing his attention between Buck and Eddie. If Buck helps make his lunch, Eddie can sit with him while he eats. On the days that Eddie drops him off at preschool, he likes it best when Buck picks him up.

When Buck gives him a bath, Eddie helps brush his teeth.

“I sure can, kiddo. Chris, you’re all good. Get those pearly whites, bud.” He passes a tube of bubblegum-flavored toothpaste to his older son, watches him carefully squeeze a blob of it onto a blue toothbrush with a distinctive red ‘S’ logo on the handle. Christopher hands the tube back and jams the brush into his mouth while Eddie reaches for the smallest toothbrush in the cup.

Buck isn’t sure when it started, but somewhere along the way, all four of them started sharing a bedtime routine. Sure, that’s parenting, but this is a little bit more. The boys have their own bathroom, full of plastic boats and low-hanging towel bars, but still all four of them gather in Buck and Eddie’s bathroom at night to brush their teeth together.

He’s scrubbing across his own teeth as he thinks about it, white minty foam gathering at the corners of his mouth. When he catches Christopher looking at him, he turns his head and growls playfully, baring his teeth.

“No, Bucky! Don’t get me!” Chris’ toothbrush is still in his mouth, so the words are distorted and he sprays pinkish flecks all over the mirror when he cries out.  

Buck laughs, splattering his own toothpaste foam to create some sort of abstract bathroom art that he knows Eddie will wipe away while he sees the boys down to their shared bedroom.  

Trey leans back against Eddie’s hip, tipping his chin and opening his mouth.

“-Eddie, -addy!” He tries to say, without moving his jaw. ‘Ready, daddy!’ they both know it means, and Buck leans forward to spit as Eddie starts brushing carefully through their son’s mouth. He counts the teeth out loud, just like every night, even though the number hasn’t changed since six months after they welcomed him into their home.  

Buck leans back upright, looking at his family in the mirror as he reaches around Chris to take a paper cup from the dispenser he brought with him when he moved in. He fills it with water, freezing when he sees the design on the side.

The water flows over the top of the cup, down his hand, and it’s enough to shake him from his stupor. It shouldn’t have surprised him; he’s the one who’d purchased the box of planet-themed bath cups, remembering how excited Christopher had been to be able to recite all nine planets in order. He's staring down at a smiling planet, Mars, according to the reddish label beside it.  

Even if it were a surprise, there’s no reason that a Mars cup should stop him in his tracks like this. But he’s suddenly thinking of a different day, a different paper cup in a different bathroom. That cup was blue, plain blue, and he’d stood alone in the bathroom.  

He remembers every detail, the sting of the aftershave and the way the mouthwash tingled against his gums. And he remembers everything that came after, too, right up to Eddie kissing him against his front door. He’d gone inside that night and imagined a future with Eddie and Christopher. But never, not even in his most elaborate fantasies had he dreamed of having all of this.  

This is the most in love Buck has ever been, standing here in the bathroom with his family, watching Eddie hold a light-up toothbrush in one hand and a Jupiter cup in the other. He’s helping Trey spit into the sink – not onto the counter – and Buck feels his heart swell at the simple routine of it all. He puts his own toothbrush back into the cup and thanks his lucky stars for every moment like this, every night he gets to be a part of this. Every time life has caught him by surprise, every day that was better than the one before it, even when he hadn’t thought that would be possible.  

There are four toothbrushes on his counter, three people at the center of his world, and he thinks it again, this is the best moment I’ve had in my life.  

Because love, he’s come to learn, isn’t found in any of the obvious places to look.

Love starts with a toothbrush.

[what-breaks-my-heart]

I was tagged by @its-chelisey-stuff (WE LITERALLY JUST KNEW EACH OTHER BECAUSE OF MORE THAN FRIENDS)

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? I don’t have a hairbrush but I have a comb 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

2. Name a food you never eat. Seafood because of allergies. I can eat fish and crabs though. Basically anything that stores sea water (apart from fish).

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? IT’S ALWAYS TOO HOT HERE. I miss the UK where I can just layer up if it gets too cold.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? I just woke up 😂😂

5. What’s your favourite candy bar? Are there candy bars which are not chocolate???

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? Does esports count? I went to Kuala Lumpur DotA 2 Major in 2018. Otherwise, I didn’t go to any.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “I’m printing it!”

8. What is your favourite ice cream? Strawberry. Life is already bitter as is.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Tea. I just had breakfast.

10. Do you like your wallet? Indifferent.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Fried rice. Not Uncle Roger’s style because I am not Chinese.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Big fat nope.

13. What was the last sporting event you watched? DotA 2 online tournament. I have a team I have been supporting since I started watching it in 2015 and their game started really late last night (time zone thing)

14. What is your favourite flavor of popcorn? Just the plain one.

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to? I texted my friend (whom I managed to make him watch his first kdrama) from school to prepare a box of tissue before watching episode 15 of More than Friends.

16. Ever been camping? Camping was an annual thing back in my primary school.

17. Do you take vitamins? I don’t go out under the sun, if that’s what you mean. But no, I don’t take supplements because I am too lazy.

18. Do you regularly attend a place of worship? Not since the pandemic.

19. Do you have a tan? At this rate, I call it sunburn. But I haven’t gone out much (apart from going to work as and when needed, groceries, and taking my car for a spin) since the pandemic so the tan line is becoming fader.

20. Do you prefer chinese or pizza? Pineapple on pizza. Sue me!

21. Do you drink your soda through a straw? I pour it into a glass and drink it like a champ. But I also try to reduce single-use plastics in my daily life.

22. What colour of socks do you usually wear? Black is always the safe option (yes it tells a lot about my personality huh)

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Yes, but only where the speed limit is stupidly too low. Otherwise, I rarely drive above 100 km/h.

24. What terrifies you? The list is too long, it should probably be a separate post. I project my issues on the shows that I watch so every now and then you would see me analysing characters or incidents while projecting my issues.

25. Look to your left, what do you see? A broken mirror (in my bedroom), just the perfect metaphor for my twisted perspectives in life.

26. What chore do you hate most? Scrubbing the toilet.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Please talk slowly so I can understand you (also applicable to any other languages tbh).

28. What’s your favorite soda? Carbonated lemonade.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? I prefer hitting the Drive Thru so I can eat my food in front of my laptop in peace.

30. What’s your favourite number? 3 and its first 3 multiples

31. Who was the last person you talked to? My brother, when I passed him the printed material he asked me to print early in the morning for his chess coaching session (he’s a chess coach, yes).

32. Favourite meat? Chicken, because it’s the easiest to be eaten.

33. Last song you listened to? Late Regret by Ong Seong Wu (More than Friends OST). I even listened to the 1-hour loop on YouTube while editing my screencaps last night. And it took longer than the editing process so I also listened to the video with hangul and English lyrics afterwards. I am more comfortable with hangul than the romanisation so I guess my pathetic Korean lessons paid off.

34. Last book you read? I can’t even remember the last time I read a book. Probably mid last year?

35. Favourite day of the week? Saturday.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? Haven’t tried 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

37. How do you like your coffee? Latte. But I am not a coffee drinker and only started drinking occasionally this year due to the amount of work I had to put in during the first half of this year (yes, even during the pandemic)

38. Favourite pair of shoes? I only have 2 pairs of shoes to even have any favourite. 1 pair for work and another for casual wear.

39. Time you normally get up? Half past 6 if I have to go to the office. Otherwise, I’ll wake up for morning prayer and continue sleeping until half an hour before I have to clock in. On weekends, I continue sleeping until closer to 10 o’clock. If I stayed up the night, probably closer to noon.

40. Which do you prefer, sunrise or sunset? Sunset all the way, because it’s the beginning of my favourite time of the day. Yes, I’m a vampire who loves the night. I also love necks

41. How many blankets on your bed? One and only. It’s too hot to wear even a thin blanket but it gets cold around 3 am so I have to be prepared.

42. Describe your kitchen plates. I like the design of Portmeirion table set from the early 2000s.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment. It’s not photography material, but it’s not dirty or messy or anything.

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? I don’t drink.

45. Do you play cards? No. I don’t play anything that requires other people to join me (yes, I am a lone ranger).

46. What colour is your car? The Nissan partner and distributor in my country calls it Dark Metal Grey. It does look nice.

47. Can you change a tire? I can, but I wouldn’t. With free towing service, why should I bother?

48. Your favourite state or province? I was practically born and raised here so I cannot pick a favourite.

49. Favourite job you’ve had? I would say my previous job, because our team had a fantastic working relationship, and everyone was crazy enough to entertain my antics as the maknae.

tagging: @kdramastuff (I know you don’t do this stuff but I just wanna tag you :p) @becausenothingtodo @aromaticcedarwood @dramaintherain @dohyunsoo @kuronekonerochan @park-joonyoung @psalm40speakstome @myechoecho @ambedoanxiety @outside-seoul (that is 10 tags right because I only tag the first one to annoy her :ppp)

[alarawriting]

52 Project #3: Graduation Day

Science fiction, superpowers, inspired by cyberpunk and also anime. Contains violence, gore, lots of made-up future slang.

***

               Teal waited silently in her cell, trying to control the vicious excitement that coursed through her. Today is my final exam. I'll see Essell again. They had promised her that if she survived today, she would see her brother again, for the first time in five years-- for the first time since both their lives had been destroyed. Of course, one could not necessarily believe their promises, but they themselves had trained Teal as a killer, and they had to know that if they lied, she'd turn her skills on them. So she expected that they wouldn’t lie, not this time.

               The door opened, and a Drone entered. "Teal A-3ß. Come with me."

               Teal nodded once, sharply, and stood. She was a tall, androgynous 15-year-old, with short white hair crowning a pale face. She wore black today, a bodysuit made of a tough polymer fabric, somewhat resistant to bullets and knives and with lines of silver shot through it to diffuse lasers. They had offered her body armor, but she'd refused. Teal needed to be as light as possible, especially now that she'd gotten her growth.

               She followed the drone down the corridor to the battle chamber. The door opened, and momentarily, Teal was blinded by what looked like sunlight, before the artificial film on her retina darkened enough to let her see. She stepped forward, staring about her in surprise. The simulation today was a replica of the Grove, where she and Essell had grown up. Why? Are they trying to remind me why I want to win? Or of what happened, the last day I saw this place? Do they want to throw me off my guard somehow? I can probably expect a trap of some kind. She breathed the air in deeply. They didn't have the smells exactly right, but close. Very close.

               Standing, drinking in the air and the scenery, she showed every sign of fatal distraction. But the moment the door opened and the men with guns charged in, Teal was in the air. She'd been too heavy to fly for some years now-- her teek rating was 5, and she'd long been over 50 kilos-- but she could still boost. From a starting position she leapt, boosting, and flipped out of visibility into tree cover before the gunmen could track her.

               Ten men fanned out slowly throughout the grove. All carried jectors, some machine, some sniper rifles. Some packed lasers or knives as well. Teal checked her weapons-- razor claws strapped to her fingers, blades on the edge and tip of her footgear-- and then leapt down on two men, backboosting to control her fall. The first saw her and swiveled to fire. Not near fast enough-- Teal slashed his throat open with her footblades on the way down, landed, and brought her hand down in a chop on the other man's neck, crushing his artery and dropping him.

               The other men saw her. They turned and fired, but Teal was gone again.

               She crept through the trees, using teek to bootstrap, lightening her own weight so that she could crawl along branches far too thin to take her full 62 kilos. She stayed high in the trees, on the thin branches, hidden by meters of foliage, and reached a point where she could peer down over the Grove. With her lens implants, controlled by her eye muscles rather than any kind of cybernetics, she could compensate for vision that was naturally not very good. She scanned the Grove, looking for the hunters to make them her prey.

By now, her opponents apparently had no idea where she was. In pairs and threes, they roamed, searching behind bushes and in the trees, far lower than she was. Perhaps they didn't realize she could stay up so high. Boosting was an obvious application of teek-- teek rating referred to how many kilos you could lift for a sustained period of five minutes, and anyone could figure out that you could carry more in short bursts of effort. But bootstrapping-- where you used sustained teek on your own body to lighten your weight-- was less evident to non-teeks. They might assume she couldn't be as high as she was, because the branches wouldn't hold her.

               Should have done their research.

               Three men in a small clump. Teal leapt from the top and waited until she was two meters over one man's head before backboosting to slow her fall. Even still, her momentum drove her into him, crushing his skull and collarbone. She boosted off him for a split second, landed on the ground, and took out the other two's guns with a circle kick. One of them grabbed for her, but Teal wasn't there-- boosting up and over his head, and flipping in back of him, where an elbow smashed down into his collarbone dropped him. The other lunged forward, swinging. She dodged back and kicked, ripping out his throat with the blades on her foot. Then she bent and drove her claws into the neck of the one on the ground. She got no points for disabling-- they all had to die.

               Stupid waste.

               The remaining men ran at her. Teal boosted up and hid in the trees again. Now they had wised up-- four of them were together, and she couldn't take four at once, especially since they were watching the air. Where was the fifth? Teal started to look for him, and her eye was caught by the ladder trees.

               She and Essell had called them that because they were close enough together that you could string ropes around them, to make ladder runs. They'd been constructing a treehouse between the two-- had been working on it for weeks when the black day came. The treehouse had never been finished.

               The black day... They'd been playing Air Tag. Teal had weighed twenty kilos less, but she'd had her full teek already, so she could fly and have teek to spare. Essell, also, had been smaller but at full power, able to make a wingspan large enough to fly with. They'd been flying through the trees, chasing each other, laughing...

               "There she is!"

               Machine gun fire sprayed at Teal's perch. Startled, she boosted up, out of the guns' range. There was the trap she’d expected. Everywhere in the Grove simulacrum brought back memories she hadn’t dared focus on for five years, and now, they were flooding in, distracting her.

               I won't let myself think about it. If I win today, I'll be with Essell again... and we can avenge the black day, together. I can't let myself think about it until then.

               From a higher vantage point, she searched again for the fifth man. He didn't appear to be anywhere. Maybe she had counted wrong, and there had only been nine to begin with? Unlikely – she wasn’t that careless. She checked the places in a direct line from where she intended to come down. He wasn't in any of them that she could see, which meant she could land and he wouldn't have a clear shot. Good enough.

               She threw a broken tree limb down some distance away from her. All the men turned as it landed with a thud. Then she leapt down among them, hands and feet knocking guns out of the way. She inflicted bloody score wounds, but didn't manage to kill any with the first blows. That was all right-- without their guns, they were no match for her. She moved in‑‑

               --and from hiding, the fifth fired a sniper rifle at her head.

               Teal sensed it before it was really moving. That still didn't give her much time, though. Throwing up the full force of her teek, she caught it, in a split-second burst of power. The recoil threw her backwards onto her butt, as the bullet dropped to the ground.

               A big blond man, closer to Teal than his companions, threw himself on top of her and pinned her down with his body, wrapping his legs around hers and holding down her wrists with his hands. He was close to 140 kilos, a big heavy man, and he was tangled with her tightly enough that a teek lift wouldn't work unless she could sustain it, and pry him loose. And of course he was far too heavy for sustained lift. And she had no leverage to use her physical strength. She battered at him with short bursts, trying to force him off her, but she couldn't pry his arms and legs loose-- she hadn't that kind of fine control-- and catching the bullet had exhausted her. She simply couldn't manage a burst of more than 120 kilos lift, max, and that for no longer than a few seconds.

               He pulled out a Bowie knife, while she was still struggling to force him off her, and brought it around to cut her throat open. In desperation, Teal focused all her teek on the knife, and knocked it from his hand. He shifted himself slightly, trying to grab for the knife as it went flying, and with a burst of physical force and telekinetic panic, Teal threw him off in a violent spasm. She couldn't throw him far-- he fell off her to the side, a hairsbreath from pinning her again, and so she jerked away and rolled frantically, just evading his grasping hands. She got up and leapt from a crouching position, with no time to stand, boosting up. The force she could muster was almost not enough to reach the nearest tree branch, and when she pulled herself up, she found herself achy and weak, and so overheated she was close to feverish, with a savage headache. She'd overused the TK.

               That was the simulacrum's second trap, she thought dizzily. The sniper had been hidden someplace that he shouldn't have been able to hide, that he wouldn't have fit in if this were truly the Grove. There would be subtle, minor differences that could kill her because she didn't expect them. Now she had five men to take out still, and she was weakened from overusing TK.

               Teal climbed the tree with hands and legs, not bootstrapping at all. She was drastically overheated-- it was a warm day anyway, and overusing TK generated more heat than she could easily get rid of. There used to be a small lake in the Grove, she remembered, and prayed that it was in the simulacrum as well-- yes. There it was. If she lured them over there and dragged them into the water, she could cool off and recover more quickly from overteeking. Assuming there wasn't a hidden trap in the lake, too.

               Teal crawled along treebranches, until she was near the lake, then dropped and began to run. The men, hearing her, pursued. She plunged into the water, letting its coolness close over her head, soothing her fever.

               Gunfire sprayed the surface of the water. Teal went down, into the murky bottom of the lake, where she couldn't be seen. It was far easier to teek through water than land-- a relatively minor push could produce as much effect underwater as a big push on land, because of the way water buoyed flesh and clung to itself, and because of the fact that, being a denser medium than air, it was easier to push against. Push on water, and you could see the effects. Teal opened her eyes, trying to look up through the water to find the men on the shore, but no luck. She couldn't see them any more than they could her.

               She rose to the surface at the center of the lake and sucked in air. The machine jectors that fired at her hadn't quite the range to reach her, and the man with the sniper rifle wasn't apparently by the lakeshore with the others. One of the men holstered his machine gun and pulled out a laser. Laser range was effectively limitless, but the refractive index of water made it almost impossible to aim one at a person underwater. Teal dove, with the men's positions fixed in her mind.

               She needed a low-hanging tree. Her overteek headache was almost gone, soothed by the balm of the water. Once she got out and took her nutrient mix, she should be fine. It was time to finish up here. Fortunately, she knew of a low-hanging tree. She swam over to it, staying deep under, then boosted from the middle of the lake. Water was a better medium for teeking through, but didn't provide the support for leaps that hard land did-- she needed to boost against water for three meters of lake before she had the momentum to shoot up and grab the branch a meter over her head. That took an effort. Once she was up and in the trees, though, she quickly vanished into them.

               The men were ranged along the shore, looking for her. None of them were close enough to each other for her to take two at once. The one with the laser, however, was under a tree, and all the trees linked to each other if you could bootstrap along high branches and jump across gaps. Teal reached the proper tree, leapt down on the man, and knocked him into the water.

               Momentum and surprise gave her the overwhelming advantage. He barely had time to struggle before she'd slid her hand through the water and sliced open his throat. Blood flowed around her, crimson plumes in the water. She left the body to rise to the surface, as she herself dove for the deep water, heading back for her tree.

               Same drill this time. She rose up from the bottom of the lake, six meters deep, and boosted all the way, up to the low-hanging tree, shooting out of the water--

               --and a gunshot rang out from the hidden sniper.

               Teal pushed against the bullet, but the fact that she was airborne meant she had no leverage. The speed of the bullet made it much more effectively massive than she was. It was Teal's trajectory that changed violently. The bullet went on its way, barely deflected in its course, but it missed Teal because she had knocked herself back into the water with all the force she possessed. She fell on her back, so the impact with the water didn't knock too much of her wind from her-- but she hadn't had time to get a breath, and now she was tired from overteeking again.

               Stupid, stupid, going for that tree again-- you know better! Teal snarled at herself. Twisting her body and cupping her hands, kicking and stroking her way up, she broke her downward plunge and headed back up. She broke surface for a second, long enough to gasp a spoonful of air, before gunfire forced her to dive again. Lungs burned, and arms and legs turned to leaden weights, as she forced herself back to the middle of the lake. This time when she surfaced, she was able to get all the air she needed. None of the men left had lasers. The sniper made no attempt to hit her-- which made sense, as being in the middle of the lake she was on the lowest ground in the Grove. If the sniper was hidden in a bush, or on low ground himself, shrubbery and the contours of the land might block him. But he could move, and probably was doing so now. She dove again before he could get a clear shot at her, and swam to the shore, staying deep under. Then she let herself drift upward.

               There was one man standing far closer to the lake than he ought to be. Teal let herself float to the surface near him, tucking herself so that her white hair and skin was hidden by her black-clad body, almost upside down. She controlled her ascent, coming up slowly enough that he wouldn't necessarily register the movement if he wasn't looking for it. Then she twisted upright and shot both hands out, grabbing her opponent and dragging him into the water. He screamed and tried to orient his gun, but she had only to yank him hard enough that he fell on his butt, messing up his aim. He couldn't get the gun positioned in time before she'd pulled him all the way into the lake. Teal slashed his throat, grabbed his gun, and leapt out of the water, aiming the jector at the one man within range to hit her.

               She and he fired at the same time. Teal used teek to slingshot the bullets away from her, rather than trying to stop them. The other man, with no teek, died quickly.

               Two left-- the sniper, and a man on the shore some distance away. The sniper fired again, but Teal was already boosting up, leaping into the trees above the lake.

               Once safely hidden, she undid the velcro fastener on the inner thigh of her left leg and took out the packet of concentrates there. The packet was semi-permeable to water, so the lake water had gotten in and turned it to sludge-- but better sludge than powder. It might almost be palatable now. She opened it and dumped the contents into her mouth, gulping them down, trying not to notice how much the concentrates tasted like chalk. There were simple carbohydrates for energy, minerals and nutrients to replaced what she depleted through overteeking, and specialized painkillers for overteek headache. The stuff wouldn't take effect for several minutes, and so she might be overly optimistic in taking it-- several minutes from now, she could be dead. But if she lived, and if she won, she would suffer a terrible reaction to the overteek unless she took the packet now. And she had plans, for what to do after she won. She and Essell had things to do. She couldn't afford a reaction, later.

               Only two more, and she would see Essell again... Teal searched for them. The one by the lakeshore had hidden too well-- she couldn't see him. She couldn't see the sniper, either, but him she had clues for. She replayed in her mind the two most recent shots he'd fired at her, and triangulated back from them. Right there, yes.

               He'd moved, but not far. Once Teal knew where to look, she found him fairly quickly. Silently she crept through the trees, along branches, until she was directly above him. Then she leapt down.

               He jerked with surprise, turning and trying to move back from her. Teal didn't give him a chance. Her claws dug into the sides of his neck and dragged down, slashing both carotid arteries. The sniper died instantly, pitching forward, with blood fountaining from the sides of his neck.

               One more. She climbed back into the trees, to look for the last man.

               Now that there was only one left, and the test almost finished, she had the time to allow herself to wonder who these men were. They weren't captured Corpsmen, since they weren't psi, obviously. They could be captured mercs from the minics or mils from some nash or another, or they could be Hands of the Bright goons who had failed and were given this as a last chance. They could even be desperate freelancers, gambling their lives on their skill for a huge sum of money. Some people would do that, though Teal couldn't understand how-- money wasn't enough for her to risk her life.

               She rather hoped they were gamblers, or at least that they'd been given some sort of choice. That this was the lesser of two evils, for them. It hurt to think she might be killing people who were as trapped as she was. But it couldn't make a difference. They could be sole caretaking parents of six dependent babies, they could be world-renowned philanthropists, they could be saints and she would still need to kill them. It was her life or theirs, and the death she gave them was far easier than the one she'd suffer if she spared them.

               Of course, she had some degree of a choice, now. She was skilled enough to run away. She didn't need to be here, committing murder. Except that if she ran, she'd never see her twin again. And she had been punished for Essell's transgressions, enough in the first days of their captivity, that she suspected he would be tortured and killed if she ran. No, she had to stay here, obey her hated trainers, until she saw Essell again. And then the two of them would escape together, and kill those that deserved it, for once.

               I'm sorry, she thought to the one remaining man. She wasn't a teeper, but that was all right, since she didn't really want to speak to him. It was an abstract concept she was talking to. I'm sorry, but you have to die. It's my life and Essell's, or yours. I have no choice.

               There he was, crouching with machine gun in hand. Teal crept up on him, the same way she'd gone for the sniper, and leapt down.

               This one was faster than the sniper. He dodged back, rolled, and came up, aiming the jector. Teal flung herself at him, trying to knock the jector out of his from his hand before he could point it at her. He dropped it, caught her wrists, and flung her, fast and hard, making her smash into a tree before she had time to brake. Then he grabbed the gun again and aimed it at her before she could get up.

               There was no time. Teal threw all the force of her teek against the gun, pushing it sideways, but she couldn't seem to knock it from his hands. His grip on it was like iron, and she was still weakened from overteek, her drugs not yet in effect. That didn't matter, though. Now that it was pointed away from her, she had a chance to get up and lunge at him.

               He dropped the gun and grabbed her wrists again. Teal focused her strength and her teek on his hands, trying to break her wrists free. For a minute, at least, they were deadlocked-- him trying to flip her, her trying to break away. Then she attempted to bring her knee up into his crotch, but he used his legs to block hers. This changed both their balances. He started to flip her up. She boosted, so she could control the flip. As she went up over his head, she locked the serrated blades on the side of her footgear against the sides of his neck.

               He screamed, released her wrists, and tried to pull her legs free. Teal's head fell as the wrists came free. She put out her hands, caught the ground before her head could slam into it, and braced herself, holding her legs tightly against the neck. She began to scissor slightly, trying to reach the carotids. The skin of the man's neck was broken and bleeding, but she hadn't yet hit the vital spots. The enemy managed to pry her legs free, pull them hard over his shoulders, and yank them down, pulling Teal up. What he intended was unclear; what he accomplished was to get Teal's hands in range of his neck, with his own hands locked around her legs. She dug her claws into the vital points and ripped.

               As he toppled, releasing her legs, she kicked free of him and fell on the ground in an undignified heap. Quickly she righted herself. Her opponent was still not dead-- dropped to his knees, clutching the sides of his neck as blood seeped around his fingers. Teal walked over to him. He looked up at her with terror and hatred in his eyes.

               She wanted to apologize. But apologies were worse than useless, when you were killing someone. Teal drove her claws into his jugular vein and killed him instantly.

               Ten dead. How long had it been? She tried to think. About half an hour, and she'd used a gun, and they'd gotten the drop on her several times-- probably a B, possibly a C. But she'd passed. That was all that mattered. She'd passed. She was alive.

               Jaxson unlocked the doors and came into the simulator. "Good work, Teal," he told her. His hawklike features were actually somewhat animated for once, though it didn't show in his dead flat voice. "You did well there. I think the evaluators will probably give you an A."

               Yeah, and I'm the King of Quebec. She didn't deserve an A, and she almost certainly would not get one. But she didn't say this to Jaxson-- she'd learned to talk as little as possible to her trainers. "Where's my brother?"

               "He'll be here in a few minutes. Relax, calm yourself down after your fight."

               As if she could be calm. A few minutes! Teal was tired, but the excitement that surged through her dumped out the aches of the past half hour. She turned and ran for the lake-- she was sweaty and overheated, and if she was going to see Essell she would rather drip than stink.

               The cool water closed over her head, and Teal fell back into it, relaxing taut muscles and letting the heat and smell wash away from her. Five years...

               Five years ago was the black day, when her parents were gunned down by Hands of the Bright, when she and Essell had been dragged away and separated. They had tortured Teal until she learned to stop openly resisting, to accept their training and work to be the best possible assassin she could be. To hide her hatred, pretend she was loyal to those who tormented her. But she'd never given up her hopes for escape, for revenge. Since they'd completed her training, there was no force that could hold her here anymore. She'd mapped out an escape route already. All she was waiting for was to take Essell with her when she ran.

               She surfaced and climbed ashore, where she lay on the grass to let herself dry in the artificial sun. Teal forced herself not to tense with anticipation, making a conscious effort to keep each muscle relaxed. She needed to rest, to get back her strength, to force down the waves of excitement that raced through her. Trying to stay calm. 

               Then the door to the simulator opened.

               Teal jumped to her feet and faced the door. The young man who entered... was a stranger, a tall young man with broad shoulders and bronzed skin and a mane of beautiful golden hair. Nothing she remembered. But she knew the blue-green eyes, the color of the sea; and in his face, there were still shadows of the Essell that had been, five years ago.

               "Essell..."

               He was a golden lion. The sun to her moon, shining and gold where she was pale and white. He always had been.

               She ran toward him, and threw her arms around him. "Essell!" she cried, being careful to keep the razor claws on her gloves away from his flesh. "Oh, Essell!"

               "Teal,” he said in an amused tone, as he ruffled his hand through her short hair. “You're so emotional. When did that happen?"

               His voice was strangely cool. Teal looked up at him. "Well, aren't you? It's been five years!" Urgently and softly she murmured in their private language, the twinspeech of their childhood, "Essell, let’s get out of here, now. I've made a plan--"

               "What are you talking about?" Essell asked in English.

               Teal blinked. "Essell? Don't you remember Mooganooga?"

               Essell shook his head. "You're such a child, Teal. You mean you've been cluttering your brain by hanging onto all that crazy stuff from when we were kids?"

               "Crazy stuff?" Teal whispered. She stepped back from him and looked at him, hard.

               "Teal, we're Children of the Bright. We're adults now. Why would we need to cling on to things from when we were little kids?" He snorted. “You’d think that after you’d passed your final exam, you’d be mature.”

               Children of the Bright. The Children of the Bright were the most loyal, most skilled servants of the Bright, verified by telepathic probe. Teal was a blockpath, and never could be so verified, therefore could never be so trusted. But Essell-- for Essell to be a Child of the Bright meant that he would have to be loyal in truth, no part of him hidden from the Bright. "You're-- a Child of the Bright?"

               "Aren't you?"

               Five years she had learned to bend without breaking. Five years she had borne everything, plotting secretly to escape and get revenge. Five years, she had only been waiting for Essell... but he was not here. They had killed her brother's mind. It was his voice, his face, but it wasn’t him anymore. Some impostor looked out from behind his eyes now.

               Oh, she should have guessed. She should have expected this; she shouldn’t have allowed herself hope. Shapechangers were highly adaptable, and therefore easy to brainwash. And she would never get him back. Essell was a Child of the Bright, loyal and beloved servant of the creature that had killed their parents, stolen their childhoods, mutilated his sister and killed all the children she might ever have. That was not the Essell she remembered. Her beloved brother was dead. This creature only used the same name.

               Tears blurred her vision. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, even though it was the only thing that mattered. “I love you, Essell, you know that?”

               He shrugged, elaborately embarrassed, but he didn’t try to stop her from hugging him tightly. “I guess I—"

               The sentence never finished. Teal drove her claws into his back, turning whatever he would have said into a scream. She slashed through his spine, cutting it in pieces, and continued to rip until she'd torn through his kidneys. Essell's scream cut off, and his body folded. She stepped away with bloody claws.

               "Teal!" For once, Jaxson had some emotion in his voice. Teal flung herself at him, boosting, slashing out. He dodged back from her once, but her second swing took his face off, and the third ripped out his throat. Then she ran for the simulator doors and charged through.

               She had very little time. They had to have been monitoring her. There were probably guards mobilizing to stop her right now. But she still remembered the escape route she'd plotted. Essell, why? Why did they brainwash you, destroy you? How could you have let it happen?

               The Hands of the Bright murdered you. All I did was lay your corpse to rest. I'll avenge you and our parents both, Essell.

               I swear.

               There would be guards to kill and traps to evade on her way out, but Teal didn't care. They'd trained her to be unstoppable. They wouldn't be able to stop her themselves.

               She ran for the exit and freedom, tears drying on her face.

[drkcnry67]

title:  Please Don’t Make Me Do This

kink square filled: Knife Play

dark square filled: Knife Play

Heaven & Hell square filled: Demon!Dean

ship: Demon!Dean x reader

rating: 14+

tags: major character death, forced knife play, 

summery (if applicable): its a surprise….

word count (if applicable):

created for @spnkinkbingo @spndarkbingo @heavenandhellbingo 

also this is for a request brought in by @hawaiianohana15 

A/N: please dont shoot me, but cas doesnt actually stay in heaven for what goes down in this story. im sorry for what im gonna put everyone through. i know for me ive put off writing about this particular thing cause it still gives me nightmares. 

tag: @sweetness47 @alexis-m-kruger​

this was possibly the hardest event of your entire life, the hardest day of your life. the day you witnessed the love of your life get murdered on the eve after your engagement. 

you hadnt the heart to send every single person you had invited a letter saying the wedding was cancelled, hell you didnt have the heart o do anything except sit in your old room and listen to all of Dean’s favorites on repeat. 

after about 4 hours Sam had gotten very very concerned, so he made you some coffee and made you up a plate of food and brought it into your room. the sight he saw when he walked inside was something that made him place the food and drink on your dresser and come engulf you in a huge hug. 

course Dean and Sam wanted to take down Metatron, but of course that didnt go as well as expected for it was then that Metatron stabbed Dean. long story short told to you personally through Sam’s sobs… 

Dean had gotten hold of the first blade again after being bruised and beaten badly in a mortal kombat fight type deal with Metatron.

Metatron stabbing Dean through the heart with an angel blade just as Sam came round the corner and Dean of course turned around. 

Sam helped Dean off the ground and tried to make it out of the warehouse but Dean coughed, said he was proud of them and then breathed his last.

Sam had called out for Cas in a loud scream of pain. about 5 minutes later Cas appeared and became terribly horrified at the sight before him. 

Cas: “what happened?”

Sam: “Metatron killed him, we have to get home.. back to the bunker, to YN she needs to know but no one else can… can you get us and the impala back in one shot or is it needed in 2 trips…”

Cas: “it can be done in 1 shot but how will you tell YN… wont she be crushed?”

that was when Cas realized that Sam was gonna tell you after they got back to the bunker… sam was gonna tell you what happened, tell you that Dean died like  hero… that he went down fighting and that his last thoughts werent of her but he knew he loved you.

Cas: “look Sam i know that YN and Dean were a thing but there is something i have to tell you… about their relationship… but she doesnt know, neither of them did… you can’t tell her…”

Sam now intrigued finds the strength to look away from his brothers corpse. Cas took a deep breath watching as Sam now sat looking at him.

Sam: “cant tell her what?”

Cas: “she and Dean fullfilled the prophecy that Heaven spoke over them, they conceived a child a week before the death of a winchester at the hands of Metatron.”

Sam: “YN’s pregnant?”

Cas: “yes, but there is nothing else that can be done here, lets take this show back to the bunker and see if there is anything that can be done about Dean… ill take us all straight to his room, then ill stay here while you go talk to YN before she finds out on her own about Dean…”

Cas teleports Dean and Sam plus himself back to Deans room in the bunker. you were in the library researching a way to get rid of Metatron that would actually be most effective. you didnt hear the boys talking in Deans room. however you only had this feeling like something wasn’t right. 

it stayed with you heavily as you sat there pouring through the books and every page seemed to make time go by alot slower than it actually was… it wasnt until you flipped the page again that you heard your name being called. this made your head snap up…

you went around the corner and Saw Sam walking towards you… 

Sam: “hey squirt!”

You looked around and didnt see Dean, didnt see your man. you turned your gaze back to Sam who walked closer to you…

YN: “where’s Dean?”

Sam: “YN he was hurt badly… there was an accident, it was a bad one… before i let you see him you need to know he might not come back from this one alive… or if alive he wont be himself… the first blade really did a number on him. but his last concious thoughts were of you… YN he wasnt breathing when Cas got to us… Cas is with him now trying to figure this out, but so far no luck…”

YN: “i have to see his body…”

Sam stepped immediately in front of you stopping your entry to the hallway.

YN: “get out of my way Sam… i have to see his body…”

Sam: “no cause if you go in there your not gonna be able to unsee that…”

YN: “there has to be something we can do…”

Sam: “we will find a way but for now lets leave him alone…”

you went back too the library and cracked a bottle of whiskey… Sam stood around the corner for a few minutes and watched you slowly crumble apart… 

Sam went back to talk to Cas…

Cas: “ive healed his major wounds and slowed the death process… how did she take it…”

Sam: “she has started to drink the whiskey… i dont think she will come back from this…”

Cas: “well lets go make sure she isnt gonna do something stupid…”

Sam & Cas take one more glance at Dean’s body before heading out to the library to find you on the phone just kinda out of their hearing patterns.. it was only but a while later that Crowley texted you that he was outside the bunker…

you went to the door and let him inside… you walked down the stairs with Crowley at your tail… both Sam and Cas stood taking defensive position…

Sam: “Squirt what is he doing here?”

You finished walking down the stairs before you answered…

YN: “he is here to help me save Dean… he says he can save him… ergo that is whats going to happen…”

Cas: “dont do this, we cant trust him…”

Crowley: “look ok i have a soft spot for YN and Dean they have become my new favorite couple… but when word got out downstairs about Metatron having killed Dean. i knew it would be only a matter of time before i got a call from YN, but i also knew i might or might not be able to help.. YN show me where the body is… then ill need a while alone with it… for the way this should go may or may not come with alot of side effects…”

you led Crowley to Dean’s room, opening the door this was your first glance at Deans body… this was the only time other than not but 6 years before when you had lost Dean… to your dismay this time looked much much worse.

YN: “crowley do what you have to… just make sure he comes back to me in one piece…”

Crowley: “ill do my best and let me be the first to say congratulatons!”

you left the room wondering what the hell he meant, but still made your way back to the library… you sat on the couch and waited, waited patiently…

—————————

Crowley stands beside Dean placing the first blade in Dean’s right hand and placing both on his chest. 

Crowley: “listen to me Dean Winchester, what you’re feeling right now, it’s not death. It’s life, a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And by the way your going to be a father, now lets go take a howl at the moon.”

—————————-

something stirred, you felt it, you felt the house shake, the entire bunker shook with a violent power… it wasnt but a few moments later that the power went out in the entire bunker… no sound could be heard but something inside you stirred, something felt new, arisen if you would… 

YN: “Sam, Cas are you guys okay?”

Sam and Cas are at your sides immediately! 

Cas: “i dont know but i cant leave my power isnt working…”

Sam: “YN you looked a little stunned a few moments ago… what did you feel?”

You didnt know how to answer that, it was a very strange feeling but being bonded with Dean made things easier. during hunts and stake outs… but now it felt like something went horribly wrong… crowley did however say that there may be side effects… 

YN: “i think whatever Crowley did worked but i dont feel normal Dean i feel a much darker force… if that is why the power went out then we need to lock this place down… now and we need to prepare for the worst… lock it down nothing gets in and nothing gets out…”

you, Sam and Cas all armed yourselves, going down the halls till the tri-fork in the hall… each of you took a hall… Cas came across nothing he stayed near the armory for a few minutes to make sure Dean wouldnt be able to easily access it if he came that way… Sam made it down his hall way to the garage, but obviously with the security locked down and the power outage the garage wouldnt be a good escape route… 

you went down the bedroom hallway, the emergency red lights going down the hallway made it to your room, checked it once and cleared it of being offended… then sam’s room along with Cas’ room…. 

the room at the end of the hall, the one room where you didnt think anything was wrong… the one room where the closer you got the more anger and pain you felt… before you could fully encrouch on the room, the door flung off its hinges… you ducked into the darkened bathroom… 

Demon!Dean: “Sammy, YN, Castiel! where is everyone to greet the brother who has come back from the dead? YN baby come give daddy a kiss…”

Dean now walking towards the bathroom slowly, now sniffs the air… he suddenly becomes ravenous for the being who holds the smell of pumpkin pie. the closer he got to the bathroom, the stronger the smell got. 

Demon!Dean: “come on out Baby.. i dont want to hurt you, but i will if i have to… come on out baby… dont you want to celebrate with me about our child… oh yes i know all about that… you can thank Crowley for that… now im gonna count to 3 if you dont show yourself by the time i get to 3, im gonna hurt you baby, i dont want to but i will…1…”

you didnt know what to do, so you stood there behind the door and didnt realize that you were starting to sweat badly your gun was slipping… before you could even react your gun fell to the ground…

Demon!Dean: “ah so you want to have a bit of bathroom fun hmm… well daddy brought a fun little tool… now lets play…”

with that Demon!Dean stalked into the bathroom forcefully pulling the door shut as he now stood there with you in the creepy red lighting, he stood there with his pocket knife. 

YN: “please dont do this, you dont want to hurt me i know you dont… for the sake of our child… please… i didnt know about my being pregnant D… im just finding out about this… look ok it tore me up to see your body like that, so i called Crowley… i knew when the power went out that you had come back… but i didnt expec…”

before you could say another word, his hand covered your mouth… he gently yet firmly ran the knife over your skin, he pressed down in certain tender spots, like your forearms, your thighs, your chest, as well as your cheeks. before stopping at your neck to lean in to sniff your aroma.. 

Demon!Dean: “you know babe, i never pictured myself as a father… i just realized i never told you what i did in Hell the first time i died… i tortured people, i tortured souls… these people didnt deserve it, but i didnt care, i liked it… now i think i’ll torture you similar to them…”

at that moment with lightning speed he ran the knife through all your clothes till you were standing in your Bra and panties. this made you shiver since it wasnt the man you fell in love with standing before you doing this to you. 

at that moment you felt the knife he was holding go into your skin on your thigh, you buckled at the pain, yet Demon!Dean just laughed with amusement. he ran his hands over your body, feeling you tense and un-tense beneath his touch. 

Demon!Dean: “i still have enough sense to know not to fuck a pregnant woman… but that doesnt mean i cant make you bleed…”

before he could finish cutting you in a few more places, the sound of your name came ringing through the halls. 

Sam: “cas do you see that?”

Cas looks straight ahead at the door on the floor…

Cas: “does that mean he is back?”

Sam: “yes but he doesnt have the strength normally to kick in these door which are reinforced with iron… he would have to…”

thats when it hit Sam like a sack of bricks… the shocked look on his face now said everything he connected the dots and soon realized that whereever Dean was you would be too…

Sam: “Dean or whatever you call yourself.. show yourself now…”

then he turned to Cas and in a low whisper adressed him.

Sam: “ok Cas go down the hall and hide around the corner as soon as he shows himself ill keep his gaze fixed on me, use your teleportation to get directly behind him… go…”

Cas ran to where Sam said but heard the same not so distant voice Sam soon did…

Demon!Dean: “ill be out in a second brother, im just taking a leak… then ill come out and talk…”

Demon!Dean finished making you bleed some more watching your body slide down the wall, weak from blood loss as he opened the bathroom door and exited…

Demon!Dean: “hey Sammy… come give your big brother a hug…”

Sam started to slowly back up seeing the blood covering Dean’s hands and clothes… 

Sam: “where’s YN?”

Demon!Dean: “i wouldnt know your the first one ive seen…”

Sam: “then whose blood are you covered in?”

Demon!Dean: “i found a family of rats and slaughtered them… why do you look so scared bro?”

Sam: “thats not rats blood is it?”

Demon!Dean could only bring off a dark smile… as he followed Sam down the hall and away from the bathroom… Cas took his opportunity to come out from around the corner and go towards the bathroom… where he found you… he took off his trench coat and laid it over you…

Cas: “what did he do to you?”

YN: “he called it knifeplay… i have no idea why he did this but he needs something… he needs a good angelic exorcism…”

Cas: “what do you have in mind?”

you explained to Cas that first you needed to get into some clean clothes of some kind and clean up some of this blood… Cas went to your room and grabbed one of your satin gowns… 

Cas came back seeing you limping… he helped steady you while you got dressed… then he took your arm with his hand… he smiled lightly and dove deep into steadying you before helping you into the direction that he watched Demon!Dean & Sam go in… 

he made sure you were alright before he took off to get into his position… slowly but steadily you made your way down the hall… to the sound of running footsteps and the sound of something breaking…

Demon!Dean: “Sam come on lets not play these games… why do you hide from your older brother…”

you steadied yourself and held the colt up high…

YN: “Demonic force that resides within Dean Winchester… i address the entity within thee… please dont make me do this…”

Demon!Dean turns to face you slowly after stopping in his tracks…

Demon!Dean: “YN baby i see you have managed to get up off the floor and clean yourself up… darling you really should be more careful with that, since when did i give you permission to touch that gun…”

YN: “you didnt i took it from your hiding place when i got up off the floor… you need to make sure that you pick better hiding spots…”

Demon!Dean: “and you need to make sure not to snoop…”

YN: “dont make me do this…”

you stayed tall and strong keeping the Colt trained on Dean…

Demon!Dean: “now now babe put the gun down… put it down or take your shot…”

you started to slowly put the gun down but then he charged towards you, Cas came out behind Dean and wrapped his arms around him from behind… 

you took your shot, you shot Dean while he was in the arms of Cas, you watched between Cas’ angelic grace and the bullet from the colt the demonic energy that was within Dean now blinked away… now within the eyes of the man before you, blinked between the demonic force within and the Dean you fell in love with.

Cas: “ready YN im gonna keep holding onto him while you enact the final part of your plan… anytime now…”

that was your cue, you tossed the colt in the air running towards the man who stole your heart a thousand times over… you kissed him, he didnt react right away it was about 5 minutes into the kiss that he started to kiss you back…

thats when Cas let go, it made you feel normal to be back in Dean’s embrace… once the kiss broke you took him over to the security station you had set up and showed him all of what happened… 

Dean: “i know that i wasn’t myself but i hurt you, i hurt the one person who means the world to me… i’m so sorry YN… you don’t deserve a guy like me… i’m a worthless piece of shit… to top it all off, we are expecting a baby… we are expecting i don’t know if i’m ready to be a father…”

YN: “i know your gonna do wonderful as a father, and i also know that when i saw you basically dead, it tore me apart, i dipped so far into the whiskey that i almost blacked out, if the power hadnt gone out, i wouldn’t be awake right now…”

Cas and Sam come back into the room making sure that it was safe first… then Sam took it upon himself to hand Dean his jacket, to which made you look with confusion but you didnt make anything of it.

Sam: “good luck buddy…”

you grab 3 glasses & the whiskey, while the charade continues… but wasnt expecting what happened next…

Dean: “dont touch your glass of whiskey yet…. YN there is something i wish to discuss with you first…”

You stared at Dean curiousity swimming in your mind… Dean took a small swig of his whiskey before he continued to speak…

Dean: “YN in all my years together never have i ever been so amazed by anyone. you’re strong, brave, talented, one of the best with a machete ive ever seen, i never would have seen myself being with someone who is as lovely and smart as you… YN i know we have just been through hell and back and both need a really good shower, but will you do me the incredible honor of marrying me and making me the luckiest man alive…”

YN: “yes yes yes…”

thats when Dean opened the ring box out of his jacket and slid the expensive but not expensive ring on your finger… the toasting lasted for 30 minutes before the cuts on your body cloted, and the blood on Dean crusted, but it was about time when you spoke again…

YN: “Dean no offense but you need a shower…”

Dean: “funny darling i could say the exact same thing about you….”

[skia-oura]

Closing Costs

A/N: Just a fun lil fic about the Ben Trio going house hunting :)

ao3

___________________________________________________

CORDALINE GABLES

Senior Sales Associate

hello@cordgab.org

Phone  HomeStar Inc. Messaging

 Originally from Fairfax, Old Jersey, Cordaline Gables made her home in Norfolk over a decade ago, and has worked in real estate for nineteen years. She double-majored in Business and Transcendence-Age Architecture at the prestigious University of San Antonio. Her expertise is in finding gems hidden in the crooks and corners of suburban Norfolk, but she is additionally skilled at scouting lovely apartments and homes further away from the city center. When she isn’t matching clients to their dream homes, Cordelia enjoys playing recreational badminton with her partner and taking long walks together with their beloved dog, Sniffles. Please place your trust in Cordelia!

Audio Version             Non-English Versions             Font Adjustment

 -

 New Automated Message: New Customer Application Form

NAME: Torako Lam

PARTNER: Yes [2] ; NAME: Bentley Farkas ; NAME: Tyrone Pines

CHILDREN: No

AGE: 27 ; DOB: June 17 3016

PHONE  EMAIL

PRICE RANGE: Up to $350,000  flexible inflexible

LOCATION: Within [75]km from [Niklakka Labs]

SIZE: 450—600 m2

BD: [3+]        

BTH: [1.5+]    

K: [Yes]          

LR: [No]

GRG: [No]

BY/GDN: [Yes]          

à SIZE: 125—175 m2

ADDITIONAL REQUESTS HERE:

--No dimensional subspaces

--Away from magically-charged hotspots

--Customizable Security Systems

--Garden Shed on premises, please

--Large Windows a Plus

Thank you for accommodating us! We look forward to hearing back about the properties under your purview and making our viewing appointments!

 -

 To: tora@lam.com

From: hello@cordgab.org

SUBJECT: Hello from Homestar Realtors!!

RECEIVED: July 19th, 3042

 Dear Torako Lam,

           It’s a pleasure to make your virtual acquaintance! My name is Cordelia Gables, and I’m your HomeStar Inc. appointed estate agent. I look forward to working with you and fulfilling your needs in this new chapter of your life. I have attached a list of five properties that I think may fit your needs. Please view them with your partners and let me know if there are any that don’t fit your specifications so that we may get them out of the way before viewing the homes in person. I await your reply at your earliest convenience!

 Sincerely,

Cordelia Gables

HomeStar Inc. Realtors

 House Profile 1/5:

1345 16th Avenue

Norfolk, VA 68C 22980

4 Beds  | 2 Bath  |  529 m2  | $298,000

[49 img]

 A lovely four-bedroom family home, this property includes high-quality faux-wood flooring, recently renovated wallboard, and a lovely spiral staircase straight out of a 2500’s property magazine. The kitchen boasts a brand-new stove and oven set as well as a state of the art StayFridge™ made from the finest recycled materials from North Africa. The front garden is already blooming with the loveliest daphnes, and the entire property is fenced in by rosebushes. The backyard is perfect for the smallest feet, whether those be of children or beloved pets. Don’t forget the stylish and practical EverExpanding Cabinetry installed in every part of the house—you will never run out of storage space! Each bathroom boasts a shower-tub combo, and the upper floor bathroom comes with gorgeous hand-tiled floors.

House Profile 2/5:

195 St. Phillip’s Crtwy.

Norfolk, VA 68C 22980

3 Beds  | 3 Bath  |  501 m2  |  $311,000

[12 img]

 This three-bedroom, three-story property sits in the center of the city, a mere five-minute’s walk from two elementary schools and ten minutes from the nearest junior high school. While the original structure dates back all the way to 2258, its most recent renovation was completed less than five years ago in 3039. You are certain to love the open kitchen-dining-living room setup that comprises the bottom floor, leaving the remaining three beds and two baths on the upper two floors. Each bedroom has a Magical View Window, with settings that include worldwide destinations as well as the default ‘Real’ setting for those who prefer to stay close to home. Comes with a Laundry Room in an AltBasement. Gardening space and shed included.

 House Profile 3/5:

98 Summer Estates 29¾ th St.

Norfolk, VA 68C 22981

5 Beds  | 2.5 Bath  |  598 m2  | $253,000

[28 img]

             Don’t let this house’s exterior fool you! This customizable and generous home is sure to make you feel a sense of belonging inside with its cozy ethically-sourced carpets, warm ReelWoodTM paneled walls, and burnished staircase leading to a second floor. This home includes a basement for any storage needs as well as an attic! An antique kitchen with a real non-stasis fridge are sure to fill you with longing for older, simpler times away from the busy heyday of modern life and modern worries. While the garden needs some tender love in the front (perfect for those who love a project!), the back hosts two sheds and plenty of space to grow your own produce!

 House Profile 4/5:

637 S. Felicity Dr.

Norfolk, VA 68C 22982

4 Beds  | 2 Bath  |  645 m2  | $290,000

[118 img]

             Comfortably situated in the hilly outskirts of Norfolk, this property will let you live out all your rural life fantasies without sacrificing the conveniences of urban living. Located close to a municipal transport station and within a ten minute’s bike ride of a small neighborhood shopping center, this two-story house boasts an expansive front porch and a balcony off the master bedroom. Each bedroom is larger than average, and each bathroom has a shower/tub room separate from the toilet and wash sink. The kitchen is recently renovated with state of the art appliances included in the price of purchase. The grounds around the property are large enough for both a garden and for outdoor activities such as badminton or good old fashioned tag. A basement provides adequate storage space without the hassle of dimensional subspace installment or upkeep.

 House Profile 5/5:

12841 NE 112th Pl.

Norfolk, VA 68C 22981

3 Beds  | 1.5 Bath  |  398 m2  |  $215,000

[56 img]

             Boasting a reasonably large garden, this cozy home is at the southern end of the city, within convenient distance of a major hospital, a police station, and several schools. Public transportation is not an issue! And neither will be cooking in the quaint kitchenette, set directly across a furnished dining room. One bedroom and half bathroom are on the bottom floor, and the remaining rooms are located on the second floor. Please see the attached images for more information!

 -

 July 19th

KoraTora

I’ve forwarded you the message the realtors sent me. Objections to any of these before I comb through them for my own preferences?

 DipTipTyrone

i still vote we just shack up with the sheep

 KoraTora

Oh my stars dips that’s

we agreed that’s not a possibility

we would literally go insane

 Bentley:

No, we would go mad almost immediately

Yes what Tora said

Um, looking at them, House 1 is out for sure. You sure you specified no extra-dimensional subspaces?

 KoraTora

You know I did

 DipTipTyrone

i got a perfectly good house up there. antique. ud love it. historians dream. excellent neighbors too. dont pry. no drama.

also protip house3 has some srs bad vibes. I think I actually recognize the basement wallpaper, on second thought.

 KoraTora

????

 DipTipTyrone

Yeah, that striping—oh, that was a pretty good one. Didn’t need to answer a call for the following five years.

 Bentley

In that case, I think we’re not going to do house 3, Tora.

 KoraTora

Ohshit

Whaddya mean, Ben?? Don’t want to live there?? It could???? Be fun!!!!

 Bentley

Yeah no

 KoraTora

Roger that, no worries.

So no to 1 and 3, any others problematic?

Oh wait Ben, u might want to take another look at 2 if u haven’t already.

 Bentley

?

What do you mean, it looked fine?

3 stories are good by me

Sure the counters in the kitchen are ugly in the photos but?

 DipTipTyrone

AltBasement and Magic Windows

u wont like them

 Bentley

Oh

Okay, then 1-3 are all out. You good with 4 and 5, Tora? Dip?

 KoraTora

Yeah I hated 2’s counters too

So I’m good with checking 4 and 5 out for now.

We can always see others after this too!!

 DipTipTyrone

youre the ones actually living there

 KoraTora

Don’t u start on that mister

ur living with us, even if you’re not always around

 Bentley

It’s gonna be your home too, you know

Anyways, I can make time for an appointment next week, Tora, so don’t worry about timing on my end too much

They keep trying to send me home early anyways. Keep talking about PTSD and resting and whatever.

 KoraTora

What happened??

I will drag you home

And lay on you

And make you rest

 Bentley

Nothing happened!! They’re just worried

All the time

…Dipper you did not show up at the front desk.

This is not a good place for you

Dipper

 KoraTorako

Dipper yes!!

But also no!!!!!!

 DipTipTyrone

We’ll be home soon.

Love you.

 KoraTorako

<3

But also that was dumb shit you just pulled

 -

Appointment Notice

7/21/42

SSA: Gables, ID 980039385

CLIENT: Torako Lam +2, ID 64239

PROPERTIES: House #4428, House #6609

START TIME: 10:30, from HomeStar Inc. HQ

END TIME: 12:30, SPECIAL ALLOWANCE Late Lunch Hour, Gables, ID 980039385

NOTES:

Will initially view House #4428 before venturing out to the outskirts of Norfolk to view House #6609. Hopefully one suffices; if not, consider suggesting Houses #1103, #4345, and #3327.

Potentially choosy clients.

 -

 Shari Ndadia, 11:28 AM

Cords, I heard you’re back early?

What happened?

 Cordelia Gables, 11:29 AM

My intuition was right, they are uncannily choosy clients

We didn’t even make it into 4428 before one of them stopped still and said ‘No.’

 Shari Ndadia, 11:29 AM

Holy shit

What??

What was it?? It couldn’t have been the exterior. It was so nice in the pics I’ve seen.

You always snatch up the nice ones.

 Cordelia Gables, 11:30 AM

Apparently

The InvisiFence was too magical

 Shari Ndadia, 11:30 AM

What the?

But, like, almost all the houses in Norfolk proper have InvisiFences?

 Cordelia Gables, 11:30 AM

Exactly

Which is why I thought ‘oh thank God we’ve got 6609, no InvisiFence’

And it went well at first, but then I told them about the security system

And the tall one was like ‘oh no’

And I was also like ‘oh no’

 Shari Ndadia, 11:32 AM

Wait

Wait

You’re still at square one with these clients?

 Cordelia Gables, 11:32 AM

Yes.

 Shari Ndadia, 11:32 AM

You? Queen of Sales?

She Who Strikes Yes On At Least One Initial Property?

 Cordelia Gables, 11:33 AM

Like I said: choosy.

 Shari Ndadia, 11:33 AM

What was wrong with the security system?

 Cordelia Gables, 11:33 AM

Not customizable

Though to be fair

They probably were only going to give that house a maybe

They weren’t too thrilled about the stasis fridge

 Shari Ndadia, 11:35 AM

…choosy.

I wish you luck with them. You going to go through our backlog of communal properties yet?

 Cordelia Gables, 11:36 AM

I’m not that desperate yet.

 -

To: olpink@homstar.com

From: cogable@homestar.com

SUBJECT: Issue with Client Lam [64239]

RECEIVED: July 30th, 3042

Mx. Pinkflax

           I regret to inform you that I have truly exhausted all of our listed properties for Client Lam and her partners. They have refused everything I have offered; I wonder myself if the property they want even exists within Norfolk. Between their confusing and adamant disdain for any kind of dimensional subspace (including things as mundane as storage spaces) and their insistence on customizable security systems, as well as their avoidance and hesitance around any kind of technology that involves stasis in any way, shape, or form, it has been impossible to fulfil their needs with the properties available to us.

           My suggestion moving forward is to either assign them to another Realtor within HomeStar, or to transfer their entire application to another company. If I recall correctly, you are on friendly terms with Lindquist Realtors. Perhaps something in their directory will suffice.

 Sincerely

Cordelia Gables

 To: cogable@homestar.com

From: olpink@homestar.com

SUBJECT: RE: Issue with Client Lam [64239]

RECEIVED: July 30th, 3042

Cordelia,

           Are you sure there’s nothing? You’ve gone through the communal backlog? I’ve looked over the application and I have some thoughts. What about House #7421? Or #8577? They’re a bit above price range, but I believe they could work.

 Olive Pinkflax

 To: olpink@homstar.com

From: cogable@homestar.com

SUBJECT: RE: Issue with Client Lam [64239]

RECEIVED: July 30th, 3042

Mx. Pinkflax,

           With all due respect, I have met with this trio every day for the last week. I dug into the backlog. I have recommended over 50 properties and shown them about a third of those. I was close with #4443, but the damn pet flap and subspace pet room killed it. If I don’t get a break from dealing with these very nice, very terrible clients, I will explode. The brown haired one has taken to very poorly concealed laughter whenever the hoodie-mask one refuses to set foot on the property. I cannot.

           If you have ideas of properties that would suffice, please be my guest. It would be nice to get back into the practical side if things, wouldn’t it?

 Sincerely,

Cordelia Gables

 -                              

 OLIVE PINKFLAX

Senior Realtor

hello@pinkoliv.org

Phone  HomeStar Inc. Messaging

 Born and raised in Norfolk, Olive Pinkflax hasn’t always wanted to be in the real estate business. They studied History of Architecture and Design in Georgia at the University of Savannah with the intent of pursuing a career in either graphic design or interior decorating. They then went abroad to work at non-profit agencies for a total of five years—in which the job market back home changed, largely at the fault of the Recession of 2978. Due to a lack of job openings, however, they eventually took a secretarial position at UniqNorfolq, a small real-estate business. There, they learned the tools of the trade due to insufficient staffing. By 2995, UniqNorfolq had become HomeStar under Pinkflax’s capable hand. While still small, they have grown the company into a name synonymous with quality, perseverance, and dedication to their clients. When not busy at their company, Pinkflax enjoys painting at home and doting on their pet rat, Squeakums.  

Audio Version             Non-English Versions             Font Adjustment

 -

 Client Transfer Notice, HomeStar Inc. Realtors

7/30/42

CLIENT: Torako Lam +2, ID 64239

ORG SSA: Gables, ID 980039385

NEW SSA: Pinkflax, ID 980012114

REASONING:

Client Lam and her partners have proven to be challenging cases. As this is the case, I have decided that the current best course of action would be to handle their properties personally. Attached to their case file are a list of all the properties that they have been recommended and shown, as well as notes describing their reasons for discontinuing interest. I am open to collaboration and ideas.

Pinkflax

 -

 July 31st

KoraTorako

We’ve been transferred to another Realtor at HomeStar, guys. Apparently it’s the owner of the company.

Bentley

I was afraid this would happen.

We’re being so picky.

DipTipTyrone

Better to be picky now and end up with what we want later!

A quickly made deal is always worse for the receiving party. Better to bide our time.

KoraTorako

Yeah, what Dip said

Also, of course we’re picky??? We’re traumatized.

We’re allowed to be picky, even if they don’t know why.

Bentley

I mean…I could live with a subspace we’d never use, I guess

KoraTorako

No

DipTipTyrone

No

Bentley

Why??

It’s my hangup

KoraTorako

You’re already compromising on stasisware

Bentley

We can always replace that!!

KoraTorako

So?? It still makes you super uncomfortable for completely valid reasons.

I still think we shouldn’t compromise on that.

Bentley

If we didn’t compromise on that

There would be nothing in Norfolk

I’m starting to think there is nothing with our current demands

The house on Clement was cute, wasn’t it? It was nice!

DipTipTyrone

It had the subspace pet flap

Bentley

That we’d never use!!

KoraTorako

You looked ready to start sparking

Or glittering

And also you had that ‘I’m on the edge of reexperiencing all of my recent traumas’ face on

Bentley

If I can deal with everything in daily life

I can deal with a pet flap

KoraTorako

But it’s our home

You shouldn’t have to deal with it at home

This is supposed to be a safe space.

DipTipTyrone

Home isn’t daily—ok Torako got me.

Bentley

It’d be better than the apartment we’re living in right now

Which

If you remember

Is where I got kidnapped from

DipTipTyrone

I do keep mentioning we can live with the Sheep

KoraTorako

You make a fair point, Bentley But also, this is a house we’re going to be in for a long while

Let’s make it worth it, ok?

Bentley

I

Fine, whatever

KoraTorako

I don’t want us to live here either

If we need to we can, I don’t know, AirDrop an apartment for a couple months

Keep our stuff in the apartment so that we don’t have to move it all immediately

We can make this work, Ben. We can have our steak and eat it too.

…

Bentley?

 -

Appointment Notice

8/03/42

SSA: Pinkflax, ID 980012114

CLIENT: Torako Lam +2

PROPERTIES: House #7421, House #8577, House #2468, House #1697

START TIME: 12:30, departure from HomeStar Inc. HQ

END TIME: 15:30, departure either from House #1697 or from HomeStar Inc. HQ in best case scenario

Starting with Houses #8577 and #7421 on the very outskirts of Norfolk, we will work our way into the center of town where both House #2468 and #1697 are located. None of the properties have any listed subspace technology integrated into the premises, none of them have magically-powered fences or windows, and only one comes equipped with a stasis fridge. Will make offer to replace fridge with an older but still highly functional device free of charge if the property is accepted.

 -

Client Profile Update

DATE:8/03/42

CLIENT: Torako Lam +2 [Bentley Farkas, Tyrone Pines]

CLIENT ID: 64239

CLASSIFICATION: Buyer

SPECIFICATIONS: Listed below

…

PROPERTY RECORD:

SSA: Gables, ID 980039385

 House #1212: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Extra-dimensional installations and heavy reliance on Magitech Appliances. [detail: Kitchen Appliances, Cabinetry]

 House #3958: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Extra-dimensional installations and heavy reliance on Magitech Appliances. [detail: Alternative Basement, Windows]

 House # 2249: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Basement wallpaper and house history. [detail: 2950’s owners were heavily involved with the Cult of Futures Past, Decorative Preferences]

 House #4428: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Heavy reliance on Magitech Appliances [detail: InvisiFence surrounding property. Client Farkas refused to cross the boundary, saying “No” nearly immediately. Apparently sensitive to magical energy. Caution moving onwards is advised.]

 House #6609: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Security System installed in the property is incapable of being customized. [detail: Client Lam has expressed that a non-customizable security system is out of the question. Furthermore, Client Farkas expressed discomfort with the Stasis Fridge. Caution moving onwards is advised.]

 House #1033: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Interior did not align with Client Decorative Preferences. [detail: shag carpeting, loud wallpaper, windows too small]

 House #3290: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Security System installed in the property is incapable of being customized.

[detail: Client Lam somehow pieced together the security code engraved around all the doors and windows, researched it, and discovered that the code is unalterable without starting over completely from scratch. IE, a warding expert carefully sanding down the inscribed code and then re-installing it to customer specifications. The House Profile has since been updated. Client Lam has since expressed that she would be open to having an initially insecure home to make secure herself. Uncertain if actually qualified to do such work.]

 House #5533: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Household Electrical Wiring is too reliant on MagiTech. [detail: Client Farkas, again, expressed his distaste with the whole affair immediately upon entering the house by saying, “No,” and walking out again. How he noticed the wiring through solid wall is a mystery for the ages. Sensitivity to magic alone cannot explain it.]

 House #7567: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Interior did not align with Client Decorative Preferences. [detail: Upon seeing the decoratively engraved floorboards up close, Client Pines recoiled and uttered, verbatim, “The day I spend any significant amount of time in this accursed home is the day I lay waste to the whole of humanity.” Apparently the script contains excerpts from the original Twin Souls literature. Housing detail has been accordingly updated.]

 House #2675: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Interior did not align with Client Decorative Preferences. [detail: Apparently, Clients Lam, Farkas, and Pines are not fans of rooster-themed kitchen décor.]

 House #1181: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Basement too reliant on MagiTech and extra-dimensional subspace technology. [detail: The basement was a secret basement. Client Pines stared at the living room floor for an uncomfortably long time before raising his head and telling the SSA, “You might want to be careful opening that.” Property Owner has since been alerted and advised to proceed with caution.]

[UPDATE 7/29: Property has been pulled from the market while police reopen a case and conduct an investigation.]

 House #4482: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Interior did not align with Client Preferences. [detail: 3 bedrooms minimum is non-negotiable and the bathrooms were too cramped]

 House #5319: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Interior did not align with Client Decorative Preferences. [detail: They don’t like the color of the walls. Note to stay away from overly bright greens and yellows in the future.]

 …

[scrolling]

…

 House #5497: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: House Address. [detail: like many other clients before them, the prospects of living at 6969 Dickinson Straightway appear to have caused the clients to decline this particular property.]

 House #9569: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Building Materials not up to Client Standards. [detail: After showing the clients around the property for fifteen minutes, Client Lam hummed, squinted her eyes at the nearest window, and said, “Does that window look like somebody could break through it to you two?” The next five minutes were spent by Clients Lam and Pines discussing the fragility of triple-reinforced glass against various potential weapons, tools, etc {not limited to but including demonic powers, a bazooka, and a thumbtack} while Client Farkas sat down on the floor, put his gloved hands over his face, and muttered a nearly unintelligible “I’m sorry” to presumably the SSA. These clients are hopeless.]

 House #4443: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Pet Flap and Pet Room are too reliant on extra-dimensional subspaces. [detail: Client Farkas stared at the pet flap, turned around, and put his hand on the SSA’s shoulder before saying, “No,” and walking out. Housing information has since been updated to include the unlisted Pet Room.]

 House #3944: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: Unclear. [detail: Client Lam, in the emailed response, simply said, “Look, we’re all tired and this house is too square(?) for {Client Pines}, so we’re just gonna give it a couple days before trying again.”]

[SSA is going to file for a transfer of client.]

 SSA: Pinkflax, ID 980012114

 House #7421: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Distance.

Detail: Too far from nearest transporter station.

SSA Comments: Clients appeared pleased with most aspects of the house. As per SSA Gable’s consultation, Client Lam appears most concerned with matters of household security. Client Farkas is harder to read, due to constantly wearing sunglasses, a hoodie, and a surgical mask despite the weather, but does not hesitate to make his opinions clear. Client Pines is…a mystery.

 House #8577: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Décor, House Layout, Location.

Detail: Housing does not come with security, but the spackled walls and ceiling are apparently difficult to do the variety of warding Client Lam is used to. Layout is, according to Client Pines, confusing. House 8577 is also apparently on the edge of a minor magical hotspot, as Client Farkas has confirmed.

SSA Comments: The difficulty in getting the clients a suitable home is evident. Client Farkas appears to be the biggest wildcard, despite his consistency in what he refuses. There simply does not seem to be a reliable way to ensure that the properties will not set him against them and are simultaneously up to other standards shared by all three clients.

 House #2468: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: House Size, presence of Extra-Dimensional Subspace, Décor.

Detail: At 780m2, the premises were too large for upkeep. While Client Pines seemed to disagree, offering to do more cleaning in exchange for snacks and ice cream, both Client Lam and Client Farkas weren’t convinced enough to ignore the décor (the elaborate crown molding is too “ostentatious” and “creepy,”) and certainly not when the non-disclosed extra-dimensional subspace was discovered in a false wardrobe.

SSA Comments: After the clients left, I investigated. Inside the subspace, kept pristine likely only by the fact that time does not pass quickly within those places, was an additional bed and a luxurious bathroom. The style of bedsheets and drapes indicates that the subspace was installed nearly a century ago, which seems odd seeing as subspaces in those days were unstable and tended to disintegrate. On a different note, this time it was both Clients Pines and Farkas who balked at the presence of the subspace. Take note to pay more attention to reactions in the future, and to survey properties properly before visitations.

 House #1697: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Security System.

Detail: Client Lam disagreed with the validity and effectiveness of the existing security system, and upon a close study of it (25 minutes), declared that it would be too difficult to properly alter and that removal would only be slightly easier.

SSA Comments: I would pay for the removal myself if it made these clients buy the house. There were no other issues with it. Upon my making the offer out loud, Client Lam laughed and said, “No, no, that’s all right! I’d rather find something a little more ready first!”

 House #2292: Declined w/o viewing.

Reasoning: House Layout.

Detail: House is built like a townhome, with a main room and bathroom on each of its 5 levels; Clients professed concern regarding the kitchen being on a separate floor from the living and dining room.

SSA Comments: Unfortunate. The building fit all of their specifications—the security system installed is simple to both customize and remove, there are miraculously no extra dimensional spaces on premises, and the only significant presence of magical technology in the entire property is the mailbox, which can be replaced at a very low cost. We investigated ourselves. Client Lam, their partnership’s point of contact, did say that it was a close call, but that ultimately they would only purchase when completely satisfied.

 House #1357: Viewed, but declined.

Reasoning: Décor.

Detail: Client Pines felt the colors were too ‘smorple’ and ‘floreen’ and several other descriptors that do not appear in any dictionary. When asked if he had noticed the issues when viewing the profile sent to them, he confessed that the colors simply ‘were different in person.’ Client Lam agreed that she didn’t appreciate the tile flooring in the kitchen. Client Farkas was quiet.  

SSA Comments: I hate to admit it, but I know a lost cause when I see one. Do they even want a house?

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: olpink@homestar.com

Attached: ClientRecord64239.qbf

SUBJECT: A Professional Request

RECEIVED: August 7th, 3042

Dearest Qilar,

             I hope that this message finds you well. How is your family doing? I (and Squeakums, for that matter) look forward to our bi-weekly dinner and movie. I know you’ve discussed that the last full moon has left you feeling worn out, and I look forward to relaxing with you for a night.

           I write this message in the hopes that you would be amenable to taking on a client of ours. Unfortunately, we have been incapable of finding a property that would completely satisfy their desires. We have exhausted our listings. I know that you have several properties in Norfolk, and even those close to major terminals outside of Norfolk. I also know that you like a challenge.

           Attached is the client file for your information. Names and personal information have, of course, been redacted. They will be readable upon your agreement to take these clients on. The clients have of course been notified about this possible course of action. Should you decline this case, I would be more than understanding.

 Well wishes to you and yours,

Olive Pinkflax

 -

 To: tora@lam.com

From: hello@qilarlind.org

SUBJECT: Welcome to your experience at Lindquist Realtors!

RECEIVED: August 10th, 3042

 Dear Ms. Lam,

           Hello. My name is Qilar Lindquist. You and I have not had the pleasure of meeting, but I am sure that when we do, it will be wonderful. As you may know, my good friend Mx. Pinkflax conveyed to me their concerns that they didn’t have the property best suited to you in their register. However, with access to a larger company such as Lindquist Realtors, they hoped that you would have more success. If you are still obliging, I am more than happy to take you and your partners on as clients of Lindquist Realtors. It would be thrilling to find you the house you and your partners have been dreaming of. Please respond to this message as soon as you are capable, so that we may begin the process.

 Sincerely,

Qilar Lindquist

Lindquist Realtors

 -

 QILAR LINDQUIST

Senior Realtor

hello@qilarlind.org

Phone  Lindquist Realtors Homepage

Alternative Display Options

             While not born and raised in Norfolk, Qilar Lindquist has been settled in this fine city for the past 20 years. A born werewolf, Qilar has always wanted to follow his parents’ footsteps. He succeeded as well, opening up a new branch of Lindquist Realtors in Norfolk at the tender age of 28. He studied business, architecture, and chemistry at the University of Des Moines. Intelligent, quick-witted, and charming, Qilar Lindquist is dedicated to serving his clients in any way he can. Outside of work, he is involved with the local community theater and can be found volunteering at various non-profit goodwill organizations around the city. His husband often joins him in these endeavors.  

 Back to Realtor Biographies Homepage

 -

 August 13th, 3042

Chat with Saint Akuapem

6:36 PM

Thank you for the scones the other day. Hepsa enjoyed them.

So did I.

How is house-hunting going?

6:59 PM

Sorry, still working that Thompson case.

Thanks for working with me on it.

And the house hunting’s not going so great.

7:12 PM

Of course. You’re bright. I like hearing your input.

Just not situated to be a public officer of the law.

What with your friend.

7:13 PM

I know.

7:13 PM

I’m sorry to hear it is not going as well as hoped.

Would you like to talk about it?

7:14 PM

The realtor company you recommended couldn’t find anything for us

So we’ve been transferred to another realtor.

7:15 PM

Nothing? Really?

What realtor?

7:15 PM

Yeah, nothing. Lindquist Realtors.

7:16 PM

Hepsa says they are good. You are in good hands.

7:16 PM

Yeah, we had our first house hunting today.

I’m just worried it’s going to go nowhere here as well.

7:18 PM

Sorry for saying but. I find that hard to believe.

You will find a house.

What are your specifications?

7:19 PM

Ummm 3 BR 2 BTH Defs LDK

450-600 SQM

Garden with like 100-200 SQM?

No Magitech if possible, no exdim subspaces at all

Security system gotta be customizable or not there at all

We can be a little picky with décor sometimes

And house gotta be sturdy

There’s probably something else

7:26 PM

I see.

That would be difficult.

Are you willing to compromise on anything?

7:27 PM

Price. I put down 350k but if it gets me the house I want

Then I’ll pay more.

7:27 PM

Understood.

Where are you staying now?

7:27 PM

Still in the apartment

Got the lease to finish

Hate it but until we have somewhere else

7:29 PM

…how is Bentley?

7:29 PM

He’s stressed.

With the house, and being here

He’s always having nightmares

So tired all the time

Insists on going to work though and I cant talk him out of it

I want to get a house for him

But I don’t want him to have to deal with all the shit he is in the apartment

He doesn’t see himself as important enough to take care of, sometimes

So I have to take that into account

7:32 PM

What exactly is going on, Torako?

How is Bentley not taking care of himself?

7:32 PM

Like, it’s not that I don’t understand where hes coming from

I get that I might be being a bit unreasonable

But he keeps saying ‘oh I can just DEAL with having an exdim subspace in the house’

‘never mind that it’s a huge trigger for all my trauma’

‘and that I sometimes cant stop looking at it just to make sure its still there and im still on the reality side of things’

‘ill just wear my magic-cancelling glasses all the time’

‘and be unable to sleep from the headache’

‘it’s not that big of a deal, torako, let’s have the magitech here that hurts to look at too much’

‘who cares, it’s just a fridge torako!! Not like it was used to TRANSPORT ME to a FOREIGN COUNTRY so that a MADMAN could CONDUCT EXPERIMENTS ON ME to the point that I almost took FATALLY DRASTIC ACTION’

He keeps saying he’ll just put up with his trauma like it’s a minor inconvenience!!

And he shouldn’t have to do that.

Not in a house that’s our own.

7:36 PM

Bentley was what now.

7:36 PM

Oh right

You didn’t know that part

7:36 PM

You went to get him.

7:36 PM

of course

I love him

7:36 PM

Therapy?

7:36 PM

Bentley? Yeah.

Hell of an NDA.

7:37 PM

No, you.

7:37 PM

She’s the only other person who knows everything.

Like, everything everything.

wait what?

7:37 PM

Torako.

I think you’re not doing as well as you think you are.

7:37 PM

Bentley was tortured

I wasnt

7:38 PM

I’ll believe you on that.

But you still devoted yourself to finding him.

And he was tortured, and you have to deal with the consequences of that too.

7:38 PM

???

7:39 PM

You sound stressed, Torako.

And scared.

7:39 PM

Maybe a little

But Bentleys more important rn

7:40 PM

I would say you’re both equally important.

Sorry, Torako, Hepsa is calling me; we’re going to a late night movie.

I’ll keep my eye out for you.

7:40 PM

OK

Thank you

I really appreciate it

 -

 Client Profile Update

DATE:8/15/42

CLIENT: Torako Lam +2 [Bentley Farkas, Tyrone Pines]

CLIENT ID: IMP64239

CLASSIFICATION: Buyer

CAUTION: PICKY, SPECIFIC, UNCOMPROMISING

SPECIFICATIONS: Listed below

…

LINDQUIST REALTORS PROPERTY RECORD:

SSA: Lindquist, ID 109A854D

…

…

NEW UPDATES 8/15/42

 HOUSE ID: 798A 209X

ADDRESS: 389 West Hampton Drive

SELLER: Mx. Adelaide Hanson

STATUS: DECLINED

NOTES: Unfortunately, despite attempts to the contrary, the clients were not impressed with the security system. We discussed it at length at Lindquist Realtors and felt it sufficient, but Client Lam insisted quite sternly that she needed to have full control over the system. RapierSolutions is a top of the line system. I tried to convey that to Client Lam, but she refused to hear sense. “I need to be able to alter it,” she said. “If I can’t alter it, it’s a no-go—especially with those weak windows and the shallow hinges on the entryways.” Mx. Pinkflax was not kidding around when they said Client Lam was a bit controlling over safety specifications. Possible paranoia?

 HOUSE ID: 665D 187L

ADDRESS: 9821 NW 4736 PL

SELLER: Mr. and Ms. Nakatani

STATUS: DECLINED, INACTIVE

NOTES: We combed the premises for subspaces personally. Nevertheless, Client Farkas quietly pointed out that there was a secret bunker hidden under the premises, and that it spanned the entire property. While he hastened to assure us that it wouldn’t be that much of an issue, Client Lam overheard and insisted that they wouldn’t buy any property with extradimensional subspaces. When Client Farkas attempted to tell his partner that they weren’t going to use that garden gate anyways, Client Lam shut him down. Client Pines also wandered over from where he was inspecting the brick wall of the garden, said “This place might be cursed,” and waved his partners cheerily off of the premises.

Upon notifying the authorities as required by law that there may or may not be a curse on the premises, the police shut down the premises. Any attempt to contact Mr. and Mrs. Nakatani beyond alerting them to the existence of the subspace has been unsuccessful.

UPDATE: the extradimensional basement is now the scene of a crime. 665D 187L is now under government jurisdiction.

 HOUSE ID: 278K 396V

ADDRESS: 421 Wildstar Avenue

SELLER: Mr. Fegelhorn and Mr. Gil

STATUS: DECLINED

NOTES: Client Lam, predictably, criticized the ‘astounding lack of security’ in the warding system, the ‘structural instability’ of a perfectly good cellar window, and the presence of a stasis fridge on the premises. Client Farkas was silent. Client Pines said that he ‘liked the staircase’ but that the upstairs bathroom tub was ‘too small for his preferences.’ Naturally, the clients declined the home.

 HOUSE ID: 525P 792S

ADDRESS: 98 Maplefarm S. Street

SELLER: Mrs. Polinski

STATUS: DECLINED, INACTIVE

NOTES: Surprisingly, it was not Client Lam or Client Farkas who had reason to decline the property. This is probably because Client Pines, five steps past the garden gate, hissed and bodily hauled his partners away from the grounds. When asked what the matter was, he snarled out in the most terrifying voice something about unquestionable evil and the screams of the undead. As required by Law, we have notified the authorities.

UPDATE: Property is now under police jurisdiction. Norfolk Government Demonologists and Exorcists evacuated the entire block for a full 48 hours. It seems Mrs. Polinski was being possessed by a terribly old demon, Hyutgen the Voracious and had been for an undetermined amount of time.

What is up with these Clients and finding horrific crime scenes?

-

August 15th, 3042

Chat with Handsome <3 <3 <3

5:28 PM

Darling, what’s up?

You seem to be staying late at the agency today

As of late, really.

Is it The Clients?

5:57 PM

I’m so sorry.

Yes, it is.

This is much more difficult than anticipated.

Olive called it a challenge and I was foolish enough to think I had it in the bag.

The Clients are insatiable.

There’s always something wrong with the properties. Always.

And they keep uncovering properties as crime scenes??

6:03 PM

I’m so sorry darling.

6:03 PM

I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Bayani.

I’m so tired.

I’ve shown them over 30 properties, personally.

6:04 PM

Do you want to talk it out?

I can get your favorite dinner together

We can curl up on the couch

Put on some Strandson

6:05 PM

You know what?

Yeah.

Yeah, that sounds nice.

I’ll be home in 10 minutes.

6:06 PM

See you soon <3

6:06 PM

<3 <3

 -

 To: tora@lam.com

From: hello@qilarlind.org

SUBKECT: Realtor Change Notification

RECEIVED: August 16th, 3042

 Dear Ms. Lam,

           My apologies in advance for the contents of this email, though I hope it finds you well. Unfortunately, due to my position as head of company, I am unable to continue being your Realtor. I have transferred you to the care of one of my very capable senior agents. Mx. Ya-en. I hope that you understand, and that Mx. Ya-en can see to your needs better than I have.

 Sincerely,

Qilar Lindquist

Lindquist Realtors

 -

 HARLEY YA-EN

Senior Realtor

hello@harleyyaen.org

Phone  Lindquist Realtors Homepage

Alternative Display Options

             Harley Ya-en, despite xir elderly age of 84, is one of Lindquist Realtor’s most capable senior Realtors. A psychic who can read auras, Harley Ya-en is capable of anticipating the client’s needs and emotions. This allows Mx. Ya-en practical insight into which properties will suit a buying client’s needs. Xe also has a wealth of knowledge regarding the Norfolk area due to living here for the past 50 years, and is a font of trivia sure to satisfy the most curious of souls. Xe lives with xir husband and wife, and enjoys taking road trips—

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: harleyyaen@lindquistrealtors.com

SUBJECT: LOL NO

RECEIVED: August 17th, 3042

 Qilar,

           Holy fucking shit you do not pay me enough for this. You have to transfer them. I cannot work with these clients.

Sincerely,

Harley

 -

 To: harleyyaen@lindquistrealtors.com

From: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

SUBJECT: RE: LOL NO

RECEIVED: August 17th, 3042

 Harley,

           What happened?? What did they do??

 Qilar

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: harleyyaen@lindquistrealtors.com

SUBJECT: RE: LOL NO

RECEIVED: August 17th, 3042

 Qilar,

           They didn’t do anything in particular. They’re just impossible clients—I’m thinking it’s not even their fault, entirely—and I have read their file. Even with that, I was hesitantly down for the challenge until I saw their auras and interacted with them today. I am Not Doing It. I am too old for this. Give me another assignment.

 Sincerely,

Harley

 -

 To: harleyyaen@lindquistrealtors.com

From: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

SUBJECT: RE: LOL NO

RECEIVED: August 17th, 3042

 Harley,

           I’m sorry, I need more explanation than this to take you off immediately. I handled a week. So can you. You can’t use your age as an excuse all the time.

 Qilar

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: harleyyaen@lindquistrealtors.com

SUBJECT: RE: LOL NO

RECEIVED: August 17th, 3042

 Qilar,

           Fine: here it is.

           I only got the two Clients. Client Pines was, as they said, out on important business, who knows when he’ll be back. Something was fishy about that but okay, I won’t pry, and these two are setting me off on edge a little as is so maybe it’s just that.

           Then the more I interact with them, the more I realize that Client Farkas’s aura is just fucking weird. Bananapants, CocoNutPuffs, whatever you want to call it. It’s all muddled and patchy and a headache and a half to read. It’s like somebody took his aura, threw out most of it, and stuffed a bunch of excess aura in to fill the gaps. There’s no way he was born like that, and there’s no way whatever happened was pretty (or probably even painless). He’s definitely trying, though, so I figured aight, we’ll see if we can’t compromise with this whippersnapper.

           The problem is Client Lam.

           Client Lam doesn’t want to be pleased. Client Lam, for whatever reason, is terrified. And overprotective of Client Farkas. And she’s absolutely looking for reasons to be disappointed, or she’s at least seeing shadows where there are none. We could present Client Lam with a fortress and she wouldn’t be satisfied. My bet is that whatever happened to Farkas’s aura was traumatizing, and Lam was impacted by that trauma. I showed her two viable properties at excellent prices with wonderful locations and an astounding lack of extradimensional pockets or Magitech gadgets, and she found fault with them. Neither were crime scenes, thankfully.

           You may want to assign them with somebody who has experience—but you could also use this opportunity to show some junior realtors how tough clients can be. Also, the junior realtors might not be so entrenched in the practice, and they could have some excellent ideas.

           Or you could just…send these clients to somebody else. Your choice. I’m just not dealing with it. They’ll drive me into an early grave if I take this too seriously, and you know how I get.

 Sincerely,

Harley

 -

 To: tora@lam.com

From: hello@amarshir.org

SUBJECT: Realtor Change Notification

RECEIVED: August 18th, 3042

 Dear Ms. Lam,

           Hello! What a pleasure it is to meet you. I’m writing to inform you that unfortunately, Mx. Ya-en is unable to continue handling your case. The upside is that I am able to do so in xir stead! My name is Amar Shirvani, and I’m going to be handling your case from now on. I’m excited to work with you and your partners, and hope that you are as excited to work with me! I promise I will do my best to help you achieve your housing dreams!

 Yours,

Amar Shirvani

Lindquist Realtors

 -

 AMAR SHIRVANI

Junior Realtor

hello@amarshir.org

Phone  Lindquist Realtors Homepage

Alternative Display Options

             Native to Norfolk, Amar Shirvani is the youngest member of Lindquist Realtors at 22 years old. He recently graduated from the Offet University of Business with honors. While not the most experienced, Amar brings exuberance and creative thinking to the team at Lindquist Realtors. He has been involved with volunteer work from early childhood due to his parents—

 -

 TweetyFlaps Trending

#clientwoes

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself

@Silverforks

So I’ve got a kind of sort of customer service job, right. And so far it’s been fine! I’ve had ok clients. And then Bossman slides me a paunchy one cross the table and I start to understand #clientwoes for the first awful real time. 1/ 10:48 AM        23 AUG 3042

______________________________________________________________________

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

2/ i know from the start its gonna be a Ride. Like, chalk and candles intensity. Client file is thicc w/rejected properties (im in housing). But I’m game!! Im always game, you know me haha. Unfortunately… 10:50 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

3/ these are clients from hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually demons in disguise. Here to torture me. For something. I aint actually ever summoned nothing. But like, it’s unreal how BAD this exp has been. 10:51 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

4/ for 1, they all look normal expt one of them. Head to toe, covered. Would think was vampire, but that’s usu specified in reports. Nobody’s seen his skin other than flashes. Aight, tho, I aint prejudiced, i’ll roll with it. 10:53 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

5/ so they super picky clients, right. I thought nah, they cant be that bad!! Just haven’t hooked the right worm yet. So I pick out a coupla worms (houses) that I think they might enjoy and hoo boy was that a chore, but im satisfied! Spoiler: they aint. 10:56 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

6/ they aint never gon be satisfied. #1, not-vampire client mentions v v quietly to me that sorry, theres a thing he cant deal with on premises, but mb they can still keep it in mind?? But (super good hearing???) another client hears and squawks about it. he aint having it, apparently.   10:58 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

7/ and then third client (Harpy) hears bc squawk, and she SUPER aint having it, so we just go to the next house. And the next one. And—u get it already.   10:59 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

8/ and like, im patient. Im pretty lowkey. But today’s house was—perfect?? There was nothing wrong with it. Client Hoodie didn’t say nothing bad. Liked the rooms. Client EllieEars don’t complain bout no weird curses or dead bodies or bad décor. But Client Harpy?? Client Harpy is impossible. 11:02 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

9/ u kno what she said?? She said, and I repeat: the front door is too thin.

The front door. Which is a solid 5 cm of wood (real!! Wood!!). is too thin. It’s “Insecure”. 11:03 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

10/11 I didn’t say it bc im a good worker, but I really wanted to go off on her. She’s impossible. This is the worst assignment ever. Ive worked so hard my soul’s gonna feel it 5 carnations down.   11:05 AM        23 AUG 3042

 world aint gonna end til I end it myself                            

Replying to @Silverforks

11/11 srsly. 5 cm of solid wood!! Insecure. Unbelievable. #clientwoes 11:05 AM        23 AUG 3042

 -

 August 23rd  

Bentley

Sally Mihn at work sent me this.

You might want to take a look.

https://tweetyflap.com/silverforks/status/1199679934986810752

 DipTipTyrone

oh boy

that’s about us alright

 Bentley

Yeah

It is

Torako

We need to have a fucking talk

 KoraTorako

We do need to have a talk with the realtors

That’s unacceptable

 Bentley

What we need to do with the realtors is apologize

What we three need to do is discuss what the fuck we’re doing

 KoraTorako

No, that was completely unprofessional

And what do you mean, what are we doing?? We’re looking for a house.

 DipTipTyrone

I’ll take care of the tweets for a pack of gummies

 Bentley

No, Dipper

Torako

We have been house-hunting for a month

We have looked at over 200 houses by this point

 KoraTorako

Thanks dip but probs not

 Bentley

And you have said no

To all

Of them

We need to fucking compromise

 KoraTorako

Compromise on what?? Our safety?? Our comfort?

 Bentley

No, on your unachievable standards

 DipTipTyrone

Oh

Oh no

 KoraTorako

Who says they unachievable??

 Bentley

The 200+ houses we’ve looked at to dismiss out of hand!

 DipTipTyrone

This is a fight, isn’t it

 KoraTorako

I’m just making sure that whatever we get will be safe!

 Bentley

Most of them HAVE been safe!

You’re just being STUPIDLY overprotective!

 DipTipTyrone

oh no im the

im the middle party aren’t i

 KoraTorako

I am not!

 Bentley

Yes you are! You need to trust me to make choices for myself!!

 KoraTorako

Well, I would if you weren’t so insistent on ignoring your own wellbeing!

 DipTipTyrone

How does one mediate

 Bentley

I’m just trying to find a fucking house! I’m trying to meet them in the middle!

 KoraTorako

Not on that you shouldn’t!

 Bentley

It’s MY choice!

 KoraTorako

And it’s MINE TOO!

You shouldn’t be in an environment that causes you to have so many fucking nightmares!

Like you are NOW

 DipTipTyrone

Uuuhhh shit shit shit um

You’re both right and both wrong?

 Bentley

Love you, but Shut up dip

And maybe I’m having nightmares because we’re still in this fucking apartment

 KoraTorako

I told you we could stay at another Rental until we found a house!

And shut up dip, im the right one here

 Bentley

You’re the right one???

We can’t solve everything with money, Torako!! And at the pace we’re going, we’d be in that rental place until our current lease is up Next January

 DipTipTyrone

…maybe this is an in-person convo?

 KoraTorako

I just want our house to be safe!! What if something happens again?

 Bentley

It won’t fucking happen again! Fantino was a one-off. I haven’t pissed off any other researchers overly invested in their research lately!

 DipTipTyrone

What about that one guy at work?

Wait no ignore that

 KoraTorako

But it MIGHT! We! Don’t! Know for sure!!

 Bentley

We don’t know that it WILL happen, Torako!

You need to just let this stupid fucking paranoia go

 DipTipTyrone

Uh

 KoraTorako

Stupid?? Fucking paranoia??

 DipTipTyrone

Bentley that was not uh

Not good

 KoraTorako

It’s not paranoia if it could happen again. It happened once.

I can’t forget that, Bentley. I can’t forget going to open that door and finding it unlocked. I can’t forget opening the apartment to you being gone, and to the wards being destroyed, and to everything I thought was keeping us safe not actually keeping us safe.

I’m not doing that, Ben.

The house we’re getting?? Is going to be fucking safe, and I am going to make it that way.

 DipTipTyrone

Torako…

 Bentley

Look, I get that

But there were ways of making the houses we looked at safe that you weren’t willing to entertain.

That one, with the green roof and the cute staircase?? That was totally viable. We absolutely could have torn the security system out with no trouble.

We literally have Dipper to do that for us.

But you said no! Like you said no to the one with the nice garden, and the one with the really big open windows.

I just want a house, Torako.

It’s not even like we’re necessarily going to live here forever? So if it’s not perfect, I’m ok. I just want somewhere to live that’s not the apartment.

 KoraTorako

And I just want us to be safe, Bentley.

I cant do this right now.

I have to go.

 DipTipTyrone

Is it over?

…fuck it isn’t, is it.

Fuck.

 -

To: hello@qilarlind.org

From: tora@lam.com

SUBJECT: Important

RECEIVED: August 23rd 3042

 Dear Mr. Lindquist,

           Hello. I’m writing to inform you that one of your employees—I’m assuming our current agent, Mr. Amar Shirvani—vented about my partners and I on a public forum. Here is the link: https://tweetyflap.com/silverforks/status/1199679934986810752

           While I understand that we have not been very accommodating clients—myself particularly—I don’t believe that this appropriate behavior. Venting is important, but the place where Mr. Shirvani chose to express his frustrations wasn’t the right one. Please convey this to him for me.

           I don’t want him to lose his job. He’s young and hasn’t learned this particular lesson yet. But I also find myself hesitant to keep working with Mr. Shirvani. Would you be willing to either transfer us to another realtor, or recommend us to another company like Mx. Pinkflax did? I would really appreciate it.

 Sincerely,

Torako Lam

Private Investigator

.

-

 To: tora@lam.com

From: hello@qilarlind.org

SUBJECT: RE: Important

RECEIVED: August 24th 3042

 Dear Ms. Lam,

           I’m very sorry to hear about what Mr. Shirvani did. We’ve discussed the incident and he understands the impropriety of his actions. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.

           While I believe that we have exhausted our properties here at Lindquist Realtors, I am happy to recommend you to a few other businesses in the Norfolk Area. They’re smaller, but perhaps they have the specific kind of property that you are looking for. I will do my best to put in a good word for you. Should that fail, I will personally endeavor to find you the house you need.

 Sincerely,

Qilar Lindquist

Lindquist Realtors

 -

 August 24th

Chat with Reynash Pines

11:01 AM

Hey Reynash

Can I ask you a question?

11:02 AM

What a surprise to hear from you via text!

Usually you just pop in and scare my soul out of my chest.

But for your question-- please ask

There’s nothing to do at work at the moment.

11:02 AM

Wouldn’t you usually leave?

Or have things changed again without me realizing it?

11:03 AM

Oh no, normally I would

But I have an appointment at 11:45 that I have to stick around for.

What’s your question?

11:04 AM

Torako and Bentley are fighting over housing.

We’ve told you about the house-hunting, right?

11:04 AM

Oh dear. Yes, I know.

Why are they fighting?

11:05 AM

Trauma. I think. They didn’t say themselves.

But I think it’s trauma.

Anyways, that’s not the important part.

What’s important is how do I help them?

11:06 AM

From the incident back around May?

Oh dear.

Are you sure that’s not the important part?

11:06 AM

Mostly.

Anyway. I just need to know how to mediate.

I haven’t mediated in…

In forever?

I can’t remember.

11:07 AM

…why are you even asking me?

11:07 AM

Because not many people know me as me

And you’re one of the only people who has known me as me for a significant amount of time and are also NOT ben or tora

And also you’re pretty calm mostly except when I show up and scare you

11:09 AM

Well

In my defense, I think most people would be scared if you showed up out of thin air and yelled strange things like WHAT YOU CRAVIN or whatever.

11:10 AM

Are you…sassy?

11:10 AM

Possibly

Back to your predicament: mediating

Have Bentley and Torako been able to talk to each other in person about this?

11:11 AM

No :(

They’ve been very quiet around each other at home.

And Bentley’s going on a trip soon.

So they won’t have a chance for a while.

Do they have to??

11:12 AM

It’s just easier to mediate when you’re all there.

Basically

They have to have the conversation, right?

Your job as mediator is to make sure they stay on task

And that no thoughtlessly cruel words are said.

11:12 AM

So they can say mean things

But they can’t mean the mean things?

11:13 AM

Okay, let me rephrase:

They’re mad at each other. They might say mean things that just hurt each other. Words that are meant to hurt each other.

They should not do that.

That does not help the conversation.

11:13 AM

Oh

Hm

So if one says the other is being stupidly paranoid

That’s where I say no, stop?

11:13 AM

Right.

11:14 AM

And if the other says one is being needlessly reckless with his own mental health

That’s where I say no, stop?

11:14 AM

Er

Maybe not, depending

Is he being needlessly reckless with his own mental health?

11:14 AM

I don’t know? Maybe? How do I tell?

11:15 AM

I can’t believe I’m saying this but

We might need to have this conversation face to face.

Please come he0-awekjhwel

11:39 AM

And remember what we discussed

And the pamphlets I sent you

And also please remind Torako and Bentley that Lata would like to see them sometime next month if they’re able to.

11:39 AM

Thanks Ray!

I really appreciate everything

Sorry for making you scream!

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: simonkhoo@khoohootrealtors.com

SUBJECT: RE: Professional Request

RECEIVED: August 25th, 3042

 Dear Qilar Lindquist

           Thank you very much for the request. I’m honored that you would consider sending us clients that you yourself could not satisfy. It honestly instills an incredible, renewed sense of capability in us here at Khoohoo Realtors.

           Upon viewing the file you sent, however, one of my junior realtors raised concerns that these particular clients may be too difficult for a firm of our moderate size to adequately deal with. Between yourselves and HomeStar Realtors, these three clients weren’t satisfied. That, to us, is a bit of a red flag. We reviewed their specifications in comparison to our own catalogue, but don’t believe we have anything that they would be interested in actually buying. Therefore, in the interest of saving everybody a great deal of time and energy, I must admit that we cannot at this time take on your clients.

 Have an excellent day,

Simon Khoo

Head of Khoohoo Realtors

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: lancefraiser@dreamhomerealtors.com

SUBJECT: RE: Professional Request

RECEIVED: August 25th, 3042

 Dear Qilar Lindquist

             Thank you very much for this request.

           Unfortunately, we don’t have the time or patience for clients that would require a great deal of energy. From the looks of the file you attached, that seems to be the case with these clients. Therefore, in short, no.

 Yours,

Lance Fraiser

Senior Realtor

DreamHome Realtors

 -

 To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

From: naitafellen@redfinrealtors.com

Attachment: 2042-PoliceRecoverKidnappedManwithHelpFromCivillian.qbf

SUBJECT: RE: Professional Request

RECEIVED: August 27th, 3042

 Qilar,

           Long time no talk, friend!! Wow it’s been a while, I guess we’ve both been busy. I know this is a professional request and all, but we should get drinks or something!! I hear there’s a great alfree bar that’s just opened up downtown. Apparently it has killer drinks, and it of course it doesn’t have alcoholic stuff so you’re good to drink whatever.

           I took a look at the client rec you sent me, and hoo boy they’ve sure got a record! RedFin usually takes whatever, and you know that, but I don’t actually think we can get them anything?? I’d feel bad chucking properties at them that I know they won’t like. I think they’ve already checked out like three quarters of Norfolk lol. Talk about trying to summon with a broom and a lighter!

           Also, they really remind me of this one tweety I read recently? Oof, if that was one of your kiddos who posted it, you should really tell them that’s a bad call—both for them and the clients. These clients aren’t going to get anything in Norfolk, not with that popular tweety paired with that record. And if it gets out that your kiddo was the one that posted that??? Aint nobody gonna hire them, not with all this client confidentiality and all at stake. Gotta be careful what you post online, even when it is venting.

           Yo, but hey, hope you find somebody for these clients! They seem like they got some scary baggage. The one who nopes around magitec and exdims reminds me of something I read in the news a while ago—it was an article that was hushed down p quickly out of respect for the victim, but I still got the doc. I’ve attached it if you want to read! It might even help you figure stuff out with your clients, even if they aren’t the same.

 Let’s meet up for drinks sometime!

Naita Fellen

Owner of RedFin Realtors, Norfolk

Senior Realtor

 -

 August 27th

KoraTorako

I just received an email from Qilar that he’s going to continue to handle our case, but that it may take a while to comb through what properties they have left.

I said it was fine because Bentley’s off on a trip.

 DipTipTyrone

Great!!

This seems like a good time to have a heart to heart, don’t you think?

 KoraTorako

I, uh, what?

 DipTipTyrone

Bentley’s doing nothing right now! Bentley, talk

Bentley, talk or I’ll make you talk.

Bentley I know you’re at your hotel.

 Bentley

Oh my stars dip

What??

 DipTipTyrone

You guys argued a lot last time we really had a discussion

And you’re angry

And you need to talk about why you’re angry

So that you have a healthy conclusion to your argument

And so that you understand each other’s viewpoints better.

It’s important!

 KoraTorako

But why…now?

 DipTipTyrone

Because you sent that message

And I’m sure Bentley’s feeling vicious about it

 Bentley

No I’m not!

 DipTipTyrone

Yes you are

I can see your aura, and while it’s difficult to read, you’re very dlskajlkwjelkjewnsd;nlab

Aslkdjgwaelkl;kwa;ljk

Dlkjaw-000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 KoraTorako

What the fuck

 DipTipTyrone

You can’t take my phone away from me!! Ha! I win!

 Bentley

You can’t just half slide through the wall so that I can’t tell you’ve blipped in!

What the hell??

 KoraTorako

Okay okay so youre serious about this

Fine

What do you want us to talk about

 DipTipTyrone

Your feelings, I guess?

Like, Bentley. Tell us how you feel about Torako’s latest message.

 Bentley

You’re not my therapist

 DipTipTyrone

No, but we’re family

Which means communication

So tell us.

 Bentley

Uuuuuggghhh

Fine

Torako, that email proves why it was stupid to just dismiss all the properties as soon as we saw them and I feel vindicated but also tired

 DipTipTyrone

Hey, um, you gotta cut all the negativity against the other person out of your message

Try again!

 Bentley

…

The email proves that it was wrong to dismiss the properties without really thinking further about them. I feel vindicated. I feel tired.

Happy?

 DipTipTyrone

Better!

Torako, your turn!

 KoraTorako

Oh my stars are we really doing this

This is so stupid

 DipTipTyrone

Do it

 Bentley

Yeah tora, do it

If I have to, so do you

 KoraTorako

Fine

I’m just tired, ok?? This has taken so much longer than I thought it would. And I know I’m at fault for some of it!!

But I’m sick of Bentley falling to the pressure of ‘picking’ because it’s what’s expected of us. I don’t want him to feel scared or uncertain or uncomfortable in whatever house we pick, even if we’re only there for a couple years until we can pay off the place.

 DipTipTyrone

Thank you Torako! I don’t see any unnecessarily hostile language in there, so that’s A-OK, you pass. Bentley?

 Bentley

I just feel bad because everybody’s trying so hard

And we’re being so hard on them

And sometimes I just don’t understand why you reject the houses? So what that the security system isn’t perfect. I don’t mind going to the effort of pulling it out and starting it again. Heck, I would pay Dip to do it easy!

 KoraTorako

But that’s not your problem

That’s a me problem

I just…I want it to be good from the beginning. I want it to work from the start so that we don’t have to worry about it.

 Bentley

But that’s not going to happen

Sometimes you have to work to make something work for you

And if we gotta do that

I’m fine with it

 KoraTorako

I…I guess

I’m still not completely comfortable with that

 Bentley

We can work on it together

And hey

If I promise to not say yes to houses that make me uncomfortable will you promise to give things like security systems and house integrity a chance?

Like, not dismiss them immediately?

 KoraTorako

…yeah. I can do that, I think.

 DipTipTyrone

Good!! I’m glad we had this discussion

You know, I’m a pretty great mediator!

 Bentley

Dipper I watched you leaf through those pamphlets during the discussion

But yeah

Thank you, dipper

 KoraTorako

Thank you, dipper <3

 Bentley

He’s blushing!!

Compliment him more

 DipTipTyrone

No!

Stop ganging up on me!

 KoraTorako

You’re so cute, Dips!!

 Bentley

The cutest

Aw, he’s glowing

 DipTipTyrone

I should have let you keep fighting

 -

 August 29th, 3042

Chat with Saint Akuapem

4:12 PM

Torako, how are you?

Hepsa says hello

Are you still looking for houses?

4:15 PM

Yeah, we are

Say hello back for me

I’m ok, but a bit tired.

4:15 PM

Excellent

A parent of one of Hepsa’s students mentioned that their mother passed away recently

And that they were willing to sell the property

It seems the mother was afflicted with a curse that prevented her from using most Magitech

And she didn’t trust extra-dimensional spaces

It was a family home, so there are 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a nice garden.

Would you be interested in looking at it?

4:17 PM

Are you fucking serious.

Yes please, a thousand times yes

When can we look?

4:18 PM

Let me ask Hepsa to ask for me.

4:49 PM

Would you be available tomorrow afternoon?

3:30 PM.

 4:51 PM

Oh gosh oh yes

What’s the address?

4:51 PM

Just meet me at our apartment.

We will walk you over.

4:51 PM

Officer you really are a saint

I could kiss you

4:52 PM

Bring some more of those brownies. It’ll be even then.

 -

 “So? What do you think?”

           Torako trailed her fingers across the mantle for the fireplace. It was a real one; apparently, pure electric fireplaces were hell to install and more hell to maintain. There were no runes carved into the rough brick, no faint thrum of magic that Torako could now pick up if she closed her eyes and concentrated really, really hard.

           The whole house had very little by the way of magic.

           “It’s…” Torako looked down at the fireplace proper. It had been cleaned, recently, shiny in the way that old things gleam when properly taken care of. The house had been loved, she was sure of it. “It’s not bad.”

           A touch to her elbow. She looked over at Bentley, whose eyebrows were quirked. “Torako. Please. Be honest.”

           She hummed, turned to lean against the mantle and look out the big windows that provided a view of the garden space. Unmaintained, a little wild. They could put a vegetable patch there, she thought. Maybe a couple fruit trees.

           “I’m not a fan of the front porch steps,” she said, “or the ramp. It’s a bit rickety.”

           “We can fix it up,” Bentley said. He paused, tilted his head, then gave her a sly little grin. “Or at least, we know somebody who works cheap for that kind of thing.”

           “Hey, you can’t let me hear that,” Dipper said from the other room, where he was laying flat on the ground with his ear to the floorboards. “My prices might go up.”

           “Is it all good over there?” Bentley asked in lieu of answering. Torako looked up at the ceiling, where runes or wards or protective magics would be. Magics that would be hers, so they would hurt less to Bentley’s sensitive eye.

           “No creepy basements filled with cadavers or slaughtered cultmembers, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dipper said. Thankfully, Illya had left them to look over her dead mother’s home one last time, so there were no surprised gasps or queer glances. “Though we may want a couple rugs. I think this floor gets cold in the wintertime.”

           “Windowpanes are a little thin,” she muttered to herself. Her fingers tapped against her leg. “Could stand to be a bit more reinforced—though the French doors are probably okay, they seem sturdy enough—”

           “Torako.”

           Bentley’s warm hand slid over the one on her leg. Torako looked at him again. He peered at her over the rims of his oversized sunglasses, golden eye shimmering just a little. “Is there anything seriously wrong with this place? Anything that can’t be fixed?”

           Torako pressed her lips together. The aching anxiety in her chest pressed against her sternum. She tried to ignore it, and the thoughts of shadowy figures cutting through the glass panes, burning through the front door, squeezing through the cracks in the floorboards to steal Bentley away from—

           “Hey,” Bentley said, soft.

           “Hey,” Dipper said, a little brighter and brasher. He took her hand in his human hand. “We’re here, okay?”

           Torako turned her head to Dipper, brown eyes crinkled at the edges (and when had he put wrinkles on?) and grin still just a little too wide for human mouths to stand. She took a deep breath, and exhaled.

           “No,” she said. Bentley inhaled, sharp. “No, not no no! I just meant, ugh, there’s nothing I don’t like about this house that can’t be fixed. That no. Not the ‘let’s not do this’ no.”

           Both of her boys relaxed on either side of her. “Yeah,” Bentley said. “Yeah, I thought this was a good one, too.”

           She twisted her hand in theirs so that she could hold them.

           “Plus, it’s like, dirt cheap,” Dipper said. “Who knew that buying a house without a Realtor handling fee would result in such a bargain?”

           “Okay,” Torako said, a grin starting to pull at the corners of her mouth. The sunlight from the window was warm against her feet, reaching up to soothe the phantom pains in her shins from all those months ago. “Let’s tell Ilya.”

           It would be a good home.

 -

To: olpink@homestar.com

From: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

SUBJECT: FWD: Thank you for your help

RECEIVED: August 31st, 3042

I don’t know whether to be furious or relieved. Mostly I’m just tired.

You up for dinner tonight?

Qilar

 >>To: hello@qilarlind.org

>>From: tora@lam.com

>>Attached: NewHouse+US.png

>>SUBJECT: Thank you for your help

>>RECEIVED: August 31st, 3042

>> 

>>Dear Mr. Lindquist,

           >> I email you to thank you so much for all your assistance. I don’t think we would have gotten as far as we did without you. Due to this journey, my partners and I realized some very important things.

           >>As you might have realized based on the name of the attachment, my partners and I have found a house through one of our acquaintances! It was lovely and off-market, and I probably wouldn’t have said no if it weren’t for our experiences with everybody at Lindquist Realtors and HomeStar Realtors. Thank you so much for your time and effort and energy, and I hope that you have a chance to relax now that we’re out of your hair.

>> 

>>Thank you again,

>>Torako Lam

>>Private Investigator

 -

 From: olpink@homestar.com

To: qilarlindquist@lindquistrealtors.com

 Qilar,

           What the fuck, even. Truly. What the fuck.

           I’ll bring the sparkling apple cider.

Olive

[todo-ho-ki]

If It’s Convenient for You, pt. 4

HOLY FUCK tumblr deleted the original. I shouldn’t have tried to add a tag on mobile huh?

Well anyway, here is part 4 AGAIN. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: swearing, blood/mild violence

@chims-kookies I had to re-edit so I’m not sure if you’re still tagged OOPS

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3        Part 5   Part 6

When you awoke Saturday morning, the sky was clear and bright, rays of sunlight pouring into your room at the perfect angle. Finally a day off! Now you could relax and work on your audition piece. You felt light as a feather hopping out of bed, immediately grabbing headphones and twirling around. You expertly compiled a list of viable options before turning to look out the window.

"Holy shit." The clock on your desk read 7pm."Guess I should feed myself."

You dug around in your pile of neglected clothes, looking for anything that would constitute acceptable clothing.

The only things left in your pile were a turtleneck and...a short ass skirt.

Reluctanly, you donned the garb.

"Wow!" You exclaimed sarcastically.  "I've always wanted to look like I'm on Scooby-Doo!"

You were quite expertly paying homage to Velma. Except her sweater probably left a little more to the imagination than your thin fabric.

--

You drove aimlessly for a while. Now that there was no focus on anything in particular, the only thought consuming you was Bakguo standing at your register, domineering but calm.

A breath hitched in your throat for a moment and your tongue felt swollen, a clear memory of a sweet smell rolling off of him.  A little ironic, honestly, considering he was the saltiest bitch you'd ever met.

Calm down asshole. He's just a dude. A really, really, REALLY gorgeous dude. That you happen to keep seeing everywhere so you can't get his pretty face out of your stupid thoughts even though he's done literally nothing to earn your trust or respect because being a hero doesn't inherently mean he's worth his weight in gold-

Your internal monologue came to an abrupt end as you hit shuffle and let the music take over again. It was the only silence you were getting from that blonde-haired asshat.

It was really something you hated about yourself: your ability to not even know someone but suddenly be drowning in them. Every time you got an idea in your head, every time someone did something even remotely good in any way, you were jumping at the chance to fantasize.

What did they laugh at?  Could they be sweet? Funny? Loving? How soft is their hair? Their lips..? Any question you had you could daydream the answer to with no problem. And daydream you did.

The setting sun was kissing the horizon as you prattled down the highway. You were a good ways out in the countryside, so a commute gave you time to clear your head. But it wasn't clearing anything.

All you could imagine was him standing just a little closer, a smile aimed at you instead of a sneer, a hand sneaking around your waist.

Your car was parked.

You didn't really remember turning into a parking lot, glassy eyes looking up at the restaurant sign in front of you.

The glimmer of the "TAKOYAKI SUPREME" sign pulled you out of your daze, if only a little.

"I have gotta stop doing that before I crash and die. Well, maybe if I die I won't have to deal with this, you mused, a finger pressed to your chin. You continued to mutter to yourself, slinking into the restaurant and staring spacily at the menu.

"I literally don't even like takoyaki." Your arms crossed as you struggled to search for a menu item that didn't make you want to throw up.

You were also great at going with the flow, and just dealing with whatever unpleasant situation you found yourself in. Hope was running out as you reached the end of the menu, shrinking down a little.

But suddenly there was a tingle up your spine. And not in a good way. You didn't dare move now. All of the haze was gone and much like a few nights ago, adrenaline coursed. But this time, you really would've preferred to have Kirishima and Bakugo hiding somewhere behind you.

The door opened and a breeze blew in, carrying the sound of a slow, calculated voice.

"That's the one." It sounded like they were standing right next to you; goosebumps accompanied the chill over the atmosphere. It wasn't clear whether or not they were alluding to you, but your gut feeling said to be anywhere else.

They were both dressed in all black, tall and looming.

Did they follow you here? It's not like you would've noticed. You were too busy imagining a face that definitely wasn't going to walk you to your car now.

As long as I can get to my keys-fuck!

You felt around aimlessly in your pockets, the horror of realizing you locked them in the car taking hold.

Just walk out calmly. There's nothing saying they're here for you.

You tried to tell yourself that, but every hair on your body was standing up and your heart was racing. These guys were bad news.

The wind picked up as you stepped outside. No one followed. But your keys were locked in your car and there was no quick getaway now.

Shakily, you pulled on the door handle, hoping that maybe for once you left the door open.

Goddammit. My phone's in there too! How the fuck am I gonna get out of this one?

You looked longingly at the seat, never wishing you were a set of keys more than at this moment.

It's either pick the lock or break the window. And probably my hand.

Movement from the inside. One of the guys dressed in black was standing now. It could've just been a coincidence, but the sinking feeling wasn't going away. He walked towards the door.

Just fucking break it! Don't worry about the pain!

But you couldn't make your body move. You were frozen stiff as the door opened. Even if you wanted to turn around, you wouldn't have.

"Hey doll face. You need some help?" It almost sounded sincere and if you hadn't had a knack for sniffing out predators, it would've been convincing.

"No."

"Really? Cuz it looks like you're locked out of your car."

"I am." The only hope was that he couldn't see you shaking violently.

"A lady shouldn't be out here in this cold. You should go back inside." There was something in his tone that was unsettling. You could feel him leering at you greedily.

The fuck does he want? Not money. He would've just robbed me. There aren't a lot of other options besides kill me and kidnap me. But why me? Just keep your cool for now, Shouna. Breathe.

"I will be fine."

"You're shaking." You could feel him slowly walking closer. Closer. Way too close. He was way too close.

"I said I don't need any fucking help from you," you growled, finally finding the will to turn around. He jerked back a bit at the ferocity in your tone.

His hands are in his pockets. I don't like where this is going.

"Get. Away," you warned. The wind swirled up again, howling now.

His face went from feigned concern to intense confession. There was a malicious grin plastered across his face, almost inhuman.

"Fine. If you don't wanna play along, then I got no choice." He giggled as he pulled a knife out of his pocket.

You eyed the small knife carefully.

He can't kill me with that. He's trying to scare me with that thing. Calm down! You literally went to school for this exact kind of thing!

You knew, though, that there was a big difference between technical and practical application, and your hands didn't stop shaking. The cold was becoming unbearable, slashing at your face and legs. Your heart didn't stop beating a million miles a minute.

Your wide eyes met his nefarious ones as he spoke his next words, "come with me or die."

Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, hands and knees shaking, eyes clouding with fear. There was nowhere for you to go, no place to run to. How had nobody noticed? Everyone inside was going about their lives like some girl wasn't about to get assaulted in a parking lot.

Keep it cool. If he was here to kill you he would've done it already.

You wished so badly to hear some whispering in the wind right about now. There wasn't a single hero in sight. There wasn't a single person in sight. Those guys were popping up everywhere you were for days and all of a sudden they were nowhere to be found?

"You won't kill me," you dared.

"Quit stalling!" His hand wrapped around your wrist tightly as he tried to pull you towards the knife. "I won't kill you, but I will hurt you."

You were twisting and kicking and doing anything to avoid feeling the knife driving into you, landing a well-placed kick below the belt.  It bought you enough time to get out of his grip and in your adrenaline-filled rush, you smashed your window out, ignoring the bright red streams down your arm and glass in your fingers.

You grabbed the key and tried to open the car door. But he pulled you by the shoulders instead.

"I don't think so!"

He braced his legs against yours and pulled your arms behind you, leaving one hand free to press the cold metal to your neck.

"Now listen to me, you have one chance to just go back inside and do what we say. Or you're gonna have to figure out how to look pretty covered in blood!" His whisper was intense in your ear, pushed through clenched teeth.

"Fuck you."

A small cut on your neck. A small pain but a lot of blood. You grunted in reaction to the metal, so cold it was hot. You were starting to get lightheaded.

"Don't make me ask again."

"You didn't ask the first time."

This time there was a deep, blinding pain as he plunged the knife into the side of your thigh. It seemed like your screams fell on deaf ears. The lightheaded feeling got worse as your vision became clouded around the edges.  

"I told you not to fuck around."

He pushed you into your car and you didn't even know bodies could bounce off of things like that. He left you stunned on the ground, mouth hung open in shock. You couldn't yell anymore, the adrenaline was taking over and you could hardly feel anything but a dull ache in your leg.

He picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

"You stupid girl! Now you'll have to wait out here. You're covered in blood." There was nothing you could do as he walked into the alleyway with you.

"Wait here."

As if I have a choice, asshole.

He tossed you roughly to the ground. The cool air was the only thing keeping your stomach from turning as you leaned your head back against the cold metal gate.

I have my keys. If I can just get to my car before they come back, I can get out of here. But I can't get up. I'll pass out, at least.

You took a few gulps of air. "I have to get up," You groaned. "I have to get to my car."

You started crawling. You weren't really in any condition to drive, but there wasn't much choice. Crawling was proving to be too slow.

"Right," you muttered. "Right leg first." You pushed yourself up and put your right leg up, prepared to bear the weight. As you pushed up, the dark swirls began to make themselves known again. You reached hastily for the fence, nearly falling backward.

The knots in the fence grazed across your stab wound and it took everything you had to stifle the scream.

I have to get the adrenaline pumping again. I have to do something to numb the pain.

"Fuck," your breath was raggedy and erratic. "Shit. I have to go. Don't think. Don't think about it. Just do it. Just go!" You pushed off your right leg and upon landing on your left, the pain from the stab rang out against every muscle in your leg. But you weren't going to let it buckle. You were going to get out of here and let the adrenaline do the work.

It was almost a good plan. A sigh of relief burst from you as your car came into view again. But you turned your head to the door. Which was a mistake.

Your ankle twisted with the uneven surface of the asphalt, knocking you to the ground. You slid a good distance and rolled to a halt, literally just a few steps from the car.

Goddammit! Get up! Get UP!

You spent a moment yelling at yourself to move. The blood from your stab wound was pouring down your leg and your neck was pulsing.

I have to get out of here. I can't wait to see what they have planned for me. You kept having to push the thought of Bakugo showing up in the nick of time out of your head.

The door opened and the man from earlier walked up to you slowly, smirking. "You thought you were gonna run away huh? That's precious. Though I must commend how far you made it. Running on a bad leg is no fun." He kneeled down over you. "You're going to regret this,"he hissed.

All you could hear was your ragged breath hitching in your throat as he pulled out the knife again.

Fuck! What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Suddenly you heard a huge blast go off in close proximity. Your heart raced. You could only think of one reason you'd hear an explosion. The man looked in the direction of the blast and you looked up, having noticed a shadow looming on the roof.

Holy shit I've never hoped that an asshole was here more than I do now. Please for the love of god be Bakugo.

The moonlight was bright and it was easy for you to make out blonde hair and a smile filled with bloodlust cross the shadowy face above.

"Hmm,"you hummed gently, closing your eyes. "He's here." The relief washed over you.  There was no way this dude was a match for Bakugo.

"Oi, asshat."

The man turned suddenly. It was clear he recognized Bakugo too.

"I think it'd be best if you leave the girl alone."