#who do u do when you have a relatively large circle of friends from your class

[hannie-dul-set]

also the most unwanted drama esque shit keeps happening to me why can't my love life go the way i want to.

[jiminrings]

just wanna say: stemkoo + yoongs redemption arc. yoongi finally acknowledging jungkook as a love interest to oc and accepting it and jungkooks kinda confused because what now? is he safe alone with yoongi? are they brothers? and yoongis just "yeah kid you're here now and I see you but I'd still give you a knuckle sandwich anytime if u even breath wrong next to my baby soulmate"

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo has a breakdown over driving alone for the first time, and it just so happens that yoongi's the only one there for him. alternatively, it's koo and yoongs' redemption arc :-)

warnings: mention and descriptions of a panic attack

jungkook will not cry

not right here, in an emergency bay that's just five meters away from a bustling gas station where there's a convenience store and a couple of food chains and cafés he can go to in order to clear his head

not right now, in his brand-new car that his parents excitedly bought for him once they caught the news that he's already obtained his driver's license. he's admittedly already used to a lofty lifestyle, but somehow guilt settled in when he remembers telling his parents at night, and the next morning, his dad's calling him to come out of his dorm to see such a big purchase they didn't think twice in buying

jungkook already drove before. countless of times!!

tried it the first three times in his hometown with his dad on the front seat and his mom at the back, a little amused yet more frantic because this is perhaps the most frustrated state he's put his parents in

he's also took 30 hours in driving lessons during break and the happiest that he's been during the whole time is the part wherein he gets home by foot, relieved that he doesn't have to shared a confined space with his instructor that's far too chatty and intimidating at the same time

most importantly, jungkook drove endlessly and ultimately learned from you, jin, and yoongi!! he remembered mentioning in passing that he doesn't have a driver's license yet and he could distinctly remembering the three of you arguing about who'd teach him first

of course it was you whom he picked first, and it became a driving lesson that racked immense pressure and comfort from him

you taught him how to properly control his gas and brakes and then did jungkook only learn that he's a little too heavy-footed with the pedals, mistakenly thinking that he should press his wHOLE foot instead of just atleast a fourth of it

he learned how to accelerate without making the car jump and brake without making a god-awful screech!! also learned how to pull up the handbrake with ease because his wrist's too tensioned the first time around

seokjin taught him how to turn and park smoothly. how to actually command the wheel without his hands getting wrung and just nailing commando with like tHREE maneuvers max!!! max!!!

also jin taught him (reluctantly) how to reverse while looking back and holding headrest of the front seat bc jungkook read from somewhere that people apparently (read: you) find it attractive

and well... yoongi?

yoongi taught him everything

jungkook was a lil scared when he realized that it was yoongi's turn to teach him, but surprisingly, and uh well nO offense to his parents and instructor and girlfriend and girlfriend's friend,, but yoongi is the best teacher he's ever had

he taught him how to actually drive-drive if that's supposed to explain everything

he taught him how to not grip the steering wheel a little too tight and heavy. to be relaxed enough that he drives his car and not the other way around, but not too relaxed that the car feels too light in his command

yoongi taught him how to overtake and counterflow when necessary and how not to be a push-over and let every car pass even if it's him who has the right of way

jungkook was taught how to not squirm and be shy with honking because it's literally tHERE to be used!! yoongi taught him not to cower when there's a huge 4x4 with the truck horn that's aiming to squeeze in between lanes and just drive like normal

he learned how he shouldn't trust the mirrors at all times because it's not the accurate depiction of how far he is from backing into a tree and instead, open the window to see it for himself

yoongi taught him about the gearbox so eASILY that jungkook almost cried in realization that he finally managed to comprehend it fully without feeling the need to search in between stops

...

yes, jungkook did drive countless of times.

but this is the first time ever that jungkook drove alone and by himself; no company at all to tell him how he's going a little too fast or a little too near to the vehicle in front of him

he's alone. driving. in his own car. and now he's parked by himself near the gas station and the radio's playing a little too loud.

in second thought?

jungkook will cry

you're not there to console him as soon as you see his bottom lip tremble and his eyes freeze because you're someplace else

you're on a road trip with seokjin because it's his niece's first birthday and his whole extended family would be there and he doesn't know if he can actually handle that by himself ://

his family already knows you anyway and they're awarE of how their own relatives could be so now jin's immediate kim family is relying on you to be also their breather <3

the whole reason that jungkook decided to go onto this mini roadtrip by himself in the first place was to surprise you!!

he heard you over movie night once that you wanted to try these famous donuts from this shop that's an hour and a half drive away, and from your descriptions alone, yoongi and jin aND jungkook decided that they also wanted to try

and kook's just being a loving boyfriend and friend (?) that he made the collective decision that while you and jin were out, while yoongi's in the dorm — he's driving by himself for an hour and a half to get the donuts

but no, he hasn't even reached the donut place yet because he's an hour away still

he suddenly felt that his legs froze and he couldn't move at all because he realized that he's holding a wheel in his hands and the consciousness of it all makes his eyes widen, feeling the smooth leather go heavy within a blink

it was his sudden fear that the car's driving him and he doesn't have any control of it even if he has the means to do so, his mind too far in that he swerves to the right-most lane without his blinkers on and without checking his side mirrors

and even more concerningly, jungkook's still thinking about donuts even if he's in a state in which he's feeling a little dizzy and his chest is tight, having trouble breathing with his tummy aching that he feels he want to throw up

he can't think nor breathe straight and it physically pains him, the only thing registering in his hazy mind being his phone, the lockscreen that's set to you being the first thing that greets him

his fingers tremble as they move on their own and he doesn't realize it, only being jolted when his phone silently rings on his palm because even he doesn't know how nor whom he called

he's already removed his glasses to rub his eyes but they just blearily ache when he tries to see the name on his phone, his eyesight being blurred by the tears he's trying to keep at bay

jungkook's phone stops ringing until it finally connects, pressing his phone to his ear as confused as he is because he can't even remember who he called

"hello? why are you calling me, kid?"

it's yoongi.

jungkook breathes a sigh of relief that of all the people he's accidentally called — it's yoongi

he immediately welcomes the gruff voice, a sob racking through his entire body that he didn't even realize he was holding back

"y-yoongi! oh my god, yoongi! i-it's you!"

yoongi was merely napping when he felt his phone ring beside his pillow, an unfamiliar ringtone reaching his ears that he felt compelled to check it

his tone couldn't have been more abrupt but it's greeted nothing but warmly, the voice from the other side of the line making him focus concentratedly

jungkook greets him so eagerly and panickedly that it worries him, the large gulp of air convincing him that it's not just his airconditioner that's turned all the way up

"what happened to you? are you okay?"

jungkook whimpers at the question, stuttering over words that haven't even formed as he looks frantically left and right to see if his spot at the emergency bay is bothering anyone

there isn't anyone approaching him and-

"h-hazard! i-i need the hazard on."

all the red he's seeing reminds him of his hazard lights, remembering your words to keep them on if you're a potential hazard on the road

yoongi's remaining sleepiness dissipates as his eyebrows knot, overwhelmingly alert as he stands up from bed and find a shirt to put on before he even knows what's going on

"hazard?" he parrots, trying to see if he's slept through some urgent texts from any of you that could make him put the pieces together. "i need you to calm down for me, jungkook."

jungkook's busy eyes snap in one place at the mention of his name, blinking owlishly at the recognition of what yoongi's saying

"i-i forgot how to drive. the wheel — the wheel b-became too heavy on my hands," he stammers, looking at the circle that's in front of him that feels and now looks foreign to him. "i-i drove alone because-"

yoongi's heart pangs at the observation that jungkook's voice is breaking and desperate, turning off his fan before he scurries outside his bedroom and double-checks to turn off everything

"yeah, jungkook? come one, you can do it. you drove alone because?"

he once again affirms jungkook by reminding him of his own name to try and ground him, slipping on his shoes with a vague outline of a plan in his mind

"donuts. i-i heard — y-you all wanted these donuts and the uhm, t-the three of you had a bad day last week, right? i-i think. i'm not over there and you're the only who's home and i-i figured that-" his voice gives out at the end, unable to keep his tears from falling at this point. "help, hyung."

yoongi blinks once, twice, before he finds his voice

"i'm still proud of you, jungkook. good job," he rummages through the bowl of money the three of you drop your change into, dumping the entirety of it as he hopes it's enough to tip the cab driver he's gonna tell to drive as fast as he could. "now can you tell me what you see? can you tell me where you are? where you're parked? hyung will help you."

...

......

it takes yoongi a total of fifteen minutes to reach jungkook at the emergency bay by the side of the road.

his car's pristine and intact and it calms him to no end, immediately calling jungkook to tell him he's there so he wouldn't have to startle him with a knock

yoongi enters the driver's seat and his eyes immediately whip to jungkook who's already transferred to the passenger seat, his face teary and blotchy as he shakily grins at him through it all

"hyu — yoongi! h-hi!! oh my god, you're here."

he nods and softly smiles, adjusting the seat to accommodate his preferences that it makes kook put his seatbelt out of reflex

he's beyond happy to have another person in the car with him, enough to make him feel surrounded and reassured that he can't hear his breathing echoing in his vehicle

he's already mostly regained his breath but it picks up when yoongi doesn't drive straightly like what he thought he would — instead, yoongi drives five meters ahead and turns to the gas station, wordlessly finding a parking spot

"... b-but the donuts. y-you guys wanted the donuts, right?"

he purses his lips at the inquiry, shaking his head somberly

he can't even begin to gRASP why after all this, he's still focused on the donuts that he meant to get for the three of you — still beyond desperate to secure what was meant to cheer everyone up despite having gone through a new driver's version of hell

"how about we grab a bite first and then we could get the donuts after? my treat."

jungkook was about to politely say no and apologize for imposing, the words being caught on his mouth when yoongi reverses into a parking spot swiftly and gets out of the car before he can put a word in, already having him opening the door on his side

he looks up at him as if he's seen a ghost, a slow tick of a minute on his mind reminding him that yoongi's here for him

yoongi looks down to see the younger guy that still looks very much like what he's been through just minutes ago, making him spring into action

he wordlessly combs his hand through his hair like he does with you when you have a fever and cannot be bothered to keep up with appearances, pushing it back neatly

he grabs jungkook's glasses that are muddled with dried tears and fingerprints from the console, cleaning it with the end of his shirt before handing it back to him

"bite first, then we'll get donuts. i promise."

oh my god

is he having an out of body experience

jungkook can walk but he doesn't feel like it because now his steps are toO light, feeling as if he's gliding through air with ease

he follows yoongi's shadow and stares at the back of his head, the newly-dyed pink of it gleaming underneath the morning sun that he tries to focus on it instead of his raging thoughts

yoongi walks into a serene café that's only the calming kind of busy; people here and there in their own conversations, blenders humming and silverware clinking

it's not until yoongi tells jungkook to pick a spot as he lines up to order that it trulY hits him what's happening, picking the comfiest spot his eyes laid on

there's no build-up to the moment because unlike their previous interactions where it's only the two of them, there's no score in the background.

there's no tension nor ill intent and the only thing that's there between them is a comfortable silence, one that jungkook's insistent to break this one time

"i-i'm sorry i called you. you were probably busy. i didn't know what i was doing and-"

"no," he cuts him off, sheepishly putting a hand on his nape. "i called you, jungkook."

"huh?" he couldn't hold back the audible surprise that left him, making him backtrack instead of continuing his sentence

yoongi thinks that the truth wouldn't hurt, leaning to his chair as he relaxed to put the guy across him at ease somehow

"you did call me, but you dropped it in less than two seconds," he admits, drumming his fingers on the armrest. "i called you back."

jungkook visibly awes at that, head tilting as the confusion he has in his head doubles over and starts crawling on four limbs

"w-why did you that?"

was that it?

was that why he felt so confused when he could barely see a caller ID? it was ringing out for him to answer and not the other way around

yoongi's the one perplexed this time but he doesn't blame him, answering sincerely

"because i look out for you too."

there's a pregnant pause between them and yoongi could clearly see the way jungkook's shoulders slump, making him lean forward out of instinct because he thought he was gonna break down again

"i'm sorry," he looks up at him with glassy eyes, wide but not threatening to cry out of despair. "i'm sorry, yoongi."

he knows by that tone that jungkook's not talking about the call anymore, making him raise his hand to wave it off lightly

"we don't have to do this right now, kook. the both of us probably haven't even had breakfast yet."

the much-awaited talk between them has been set far enough for the perfect timing but the bulk of everything just points to now, only getting more strengthened when jungkook breaks the silence again. "but i mean it."

"i was so stupid back then and i didn't know how much i hurt you through y/n," he reflects back to how distraught and angry yoongi looked at him, not to mention the fact that seokjin told him how yoongi didn't sleep at all for a week because of how he was kept up just thinking and trying to protect you. "i-i know it must've hurt to see your soulmate hurt because of me and that she forgave me still. a-and made me her boyfriend, even."

his mouth dries because the younger boy recites his previous heartaches almost word per word, taking his time to digest each one

"i did hurt, jungkook."

there's no denying that. no cover-up of jin as he tries to boost everyone up can ever hide that. no lies to how tae, who barely even knows yoongi, felt his chest tighten when he came over one morning to deliver the cookies and see yoongi sitting outside your door with his ear pressed to it — trying to hear if you were crying while holds his own.

there's no denying either the truth that reflects why exactly yoongi made a cab driver break almost every traffic law to man just to get to jungkook faster.

"but y/n's not hurting anymore — i'm not hurting anymore," he enunciates. "i'm not mad at you anymore, jungkook."

the guy in question looks alarmed, sheepish even at the words he's been wanting to hear but couldn't believe now that they're being uttered

"you should be."

yoongi snorts because jungkook reminds him of you so so much, an uncanny resemblance between the guilt you've always tried to live with before trying to acquit

"i'll hold it over your head if it makes you sleep at night or remind you when you decide to act up again," he chuckles but he's met with jungkook's frantic no's, waving him off when he realizes that his egging's truly working. "but i don't have it in me to be mad at you for any longer."

it's the truth. it's the truth that yoongi always tried to refute because for the past weeks, all he's done is try to find the most miniscule flaw to try and make him hate jungkook

he's only thought once in his lifetime that he'd ever forgive jungkook, but now did it become crystal clear

"you've proved yourself enough, even jin said so," he admits humbly. "but i know you're not doing all of this to prove yourself to us or to me, kook."

he looks up at from his hands to train his gaze on his girlfriend's soulmate, listening attentively

"i know you do it from the heart."

he feels like crying but only this time is it for an entirely different and positive reason, a leap on his chest heightening tenfold

"as much as you rely on y/n — you can also rely on me too, jungkook."

the two of them hold eye contact and neither of them shy away from it, a silent fact in the air as they know that it's not only you who's linking them at this point, but rather because they're somewhat brothers at this point

"i forgive you."

"y-you forgive me?"

he feels his ears ringing in happiness as he tries to dodge the waiter who's blocking his view of yoongi with the way he's putting down the meals, frantically looking for confirmation

yoongi finds it cute, laughing as he throws his head back

"you're the one who does the quizbees. why are you making me spell it out?"

then he knows.

"you forgive me," he parrots, repeating it once more to himself

the two of them eat throughout thoughtful conversation, stemming from the inquiry of how yoongi made a thirty-minute drive into only half of it, until it bloomed to how kook claims to be forgetful but remembers a whisper about bread from a week ago

"tell me if you want to try and drive to the donut place," yoongi turns to him as he settles the bill, watching jungkook finish the last of his food as he throws him a sheepish smile — much like how you do

"i'll be watching over you, koo. don't worry."

.

.

.

how r we feeling bffs </3 i'll have to speak into the mic and say that this is perhaps the drabble i hurted the most while writing :O

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[skellebonez]

I wish you would write a fic where Xiaojiao and Xiaotian try to convince Red Son to build a pillowfort with them for M A X I M U M S N U G G L I N E S S

I hope the wait for this was worth it, I was very happy to get such a nice prompt!

"You have to be joking," Red Son said with a groan as he looked upon the veritable mountain of pillows and blankets and a few scattered chairs. At some points in the pile he saw what appeared to be strings of lights and stuffed animals. "You really expect me to help you build a... what did you call it? Pillow fortress?"

"Pillow fort!" Xiaojiao corrected with a wide smile and a bounce in her step as she dropped even more pillows onto the pile. There were so many pillows. Who owned this many pillows? "Well, it's more a blanket fort with the chairs, but that's just for structural integrity. It's going to be way more pillow than anything else! And yes, we do."

"What is the point of a pillow fort?" Red asked in a tone of genuine confusion and frustration at his lack of understanding. "It's just... pillows! And blankets and chairs and-and stuff!" He waves his arms wildly in the general direction of the mountain of mentioned stuff that Xiaojiao had seemingly finally deemed enough. "What does it do?"

"Be comfy!" Was her answer, almost as perky as ever but with a soft undertone to it that matched her smile. Red could tell she really wanted him to do this with them. She only sounded like that when she was serious and concerned, and the fact that he acknowledged his recognition of this was testament to how much he had gotten to know the dragon before him. "It's just... comfy, Red. You build it and you sit in it and you enjoy the feeling of being in a pillow fort."

"That sounds-" He wanted to say stupid, but he stopped himself short. Xiaojiao seemed so excited to do this, and she and Xiaotian had been so insistent on including him in things they enjoyed. And he had not disliked most of them so far. If he was under threat of destruction he might have even admitted he found some of them... fun. So instead he sighed before continuing with "- ...like something you would think I'd enjoy."

Xiaojiao's smile softened even more at this for just a moment. Then there was a knock at the door and she smiled her usual wide and jubilant smile as she opened it to welcome the other member of their little trio.

"Sorry I'm late," Xiaotian apologized as he rushed in, bags and a cooler in his arms. "There was a lot of traffic and the store I usually go to didn't have that snack you asked me to grab, but I found it at another one so we're all good!" He paused, looking over at Red Son with a half smile. "We, uh... are all good, right? You're gonna..."

"I suppose if it will make you both satisfied in my progress on 'learning to chill out already'," Red Son said in a half mocking tone, earning a snorting giggle from Xiaojiao. "Then yes. I will help you build your Pillow Fortress."

"Pillow fort," Xiaotian and Xiaojiao corrected in unison.

"It is Pillow Foretress or Pillow Nothing."

~

It took a good minute for the duo to finally gather themselves back after that. Red Son's completely serious tone with his final declaration sent that both into a frenzy of giggles and full on laughter, and Red almost stormed off before Xiaotian insisted they were only laughing because the sentence itself with ludicrous and they weren’t laughing at him.

Red Son eventually conceded that, yes... that was quite the ludicrously bizarre thing to insist on. But the two did their model best to call their creation a Pillow Foretress (with more bit down giggles every time it was stated). And it was... enjoyable enough.

There wasn't much to it. They set chairs up in a very large circle. Placed blankets under and over them. Surrounded them in the absolutely mind boggling amount of pillows, making sure to make three little sections for each of them to sit in. There were stuffed animals in places that were almost deliberately haphazard, and Red realized he recognized one as Xiaotian's little monkey from his own apartment.

Xiaojiao had taken the lights on strings, a mix of soft pink and regular lights, and draped them around the chairs before pulling in her laptop on a little lap desk and some comics and other items. Xiaotian in turn set out what he had brought, a cooler full of drinks and buns and sandwiches and sweet and savory snacks from presumably a convenience store.

"Alright, climb on in Red!" Xiaojiao said with a gesture.

Red Son stared for a moment, looking at the two of them in confusion. "This... doesn't look finished."

"It's not," Xiaotian admitted, mimicking Xiaojiao's gesture. "But trust us, this will be way cooler seeing it from the inside!"

Instead of arguing, Red sighed and did as asked, finding it silly that he was sitting on the floor surrounded by pillows and chairs and blankets and-

They finally took a large blanket that Red Son swore could cover an entire average sized room floor span and draped it over him and the rest of the fort, moving the chairs so the feet holding down most of the corners, pulling some up to let in fresh air and leaving the front loose entirely. The top dipped a bit in the middle and Red realized the blanket was far thicker than he had realized. Then the lights went out.

Red Son had relatively good night vision, but the room they were in deep inside the Long estate had no windows. That not that it mattered, it was likely past dark by now regardless. Even to him it was pitch black, only the light of Xiaojiao's phone screen providing any illumination. He almost wondered if this was it. If this was some kind of prank and the two had finally grown tired of him and they were going to leave him here or dump water over him through the blanket or... or something!

Until the little lights inside the fort came on.

And it felt completely different in the dim light. It was... soft. Warm. Welcoming even. Like he was in a world entirely made of just these blankets and pillows and nothing else was outside of it. He finally took the time to realize how plush and soft the blanket and pillows under him were. How the pink light made the seams in the top blanket give off a sheen that he realized were woven bits of metallic thread.

"Whoa..." was all he could say as Xiaojiao and Xiaotian lifted the loose flap of the front of the blanket to join him. He felt completely out of his element, unsure of how to even react now.

"Comfy, right?" Xiaojiao asked, and he only nodded in reply as Xiaotian held out two things to him. His little stuffed monkey and a bar of spicy chocolate. Flame decal and hot peppers branding the wrapper. He took them both without question as the two made themselves comfortable next to him. Each pressed into one side slightly despite the room in the pillow fort. "Tonight we're just going to stay in here in our Pillow Fortress and relax. Stay awake, sleep, it doesn't matter. Just. Be comfy with us, Red?"

The last part was clearly a question. Both of them looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to react. He didn't for a moment, looking down at the items in his hands before moving the stuffed monkey to the crook of his arm and unwrapping the chocolate bar and taking a bite.

It was sweet. Bitter. Rich. And had almost enough spicy heat for him.

"... sure."

Xiaojiao smiled wide again and opened up her laptop to find that one show he told her he liked. The one about how different things were manufactured. He thought that they would both find it boring when he told them about it, but it seemed now that their interest in watching it with him had been genuine. In time they all laid down on their stomachs or sides to watch, drinks and snacks being eaten up by the minute.

Xiaotian nodded off first, though he lasted longer than Red Son thought he would. He seemed to have actually enjoyed the episode about vinyl disks in particular. And Red Son supposed that after a long day of work and his short personal training session he was bound to be more tired than the other two of them.

Xiaojiao lasted much longer, but it didn't surprise him that even she had to nod off eventually She loved every episode that had anything remotely mechanical.

Soon it was just Red Son and his show and the soft glow of the lights as he laid between the duo that brought him into a trio of sorts. Both pressed into his sides in some way (though Xiaotian had kind of starfished his way into his back and an arm laid over Red). And he gently tossed the little stuffed monkey over to Xiaotian when he started to reach around for something, smiling when the other held tight to his prize.

Red Son didn't think he'd... ever felt this comfortable. At least not in many centuries. And it didn't take him long to follow his friends into slumber with a soft, almost imperceptible rumbling purr in his chest.

He hoped they got to do this again one day.

[bubble-booty-cuties]

Gym Selfies~! With A New Star~?

Let me start this by saying that if you’re not a part of my server, or actively anyway, you have literally zero context for this, but just so you know, there was a lot of build up to this!

This prompt is about technically my very first “furry” story, staring Rouge The Bat, obviously from Sonic, sue me~! I love Rouge, always have, she’s thicc and beautiful~! So of course, people finally convinced me to write some lewds about her~! Begone all who do not want, but for those who do, get ready for some thicc, twerking slutty bat~!

Here’s her outfit, for those who are curious, I LOVE this pic~!

_____________________________________

The small but thicc bat babe held the kettle bell with both hands as she faced the mirror, both of her feet planted firmly on the ground as sweat dripped down her thicc, curvy, plump body, her breathing deep but even. Slowly, Rouge lowered her positively fat ass down as low as could go, deep in a squat as her thicc, juicy thighs flexed and sweat dripped down her almost bare cheeks from the extensive work out.

Rouge had been there all morning, very early, as she usually liked, mostly cause there was less people, and those who were there were just as dedicated to their body as she was hers, which was always a treat to see~ And considering she was dressed in her favorite gym outfit, a tight pink and white sportbra that barely held back her massive breasts, showing a deep valley of cleavage, a pair of matching sneakers, and nothing but a pink thong covering her sex, she figured anyone waking up early enough to see her earned a bit of a show~

And a show she was giving~ As her ass got as low as could get, her eyes trailed from her own form in the mirror, music blaring in her ears from her earbuds, and instead found the wandering eyes of the one other person in the gym, a large stud covered in tattoos, semi-long hair pulled back, and definitely ripped~ He wasn’t bulky, he was more lean, like a fighter, and the way sweat dripped down her muscular back and chest was just what she liked~

Raising up from her squat, she saw him stare at her ass, I mean, who wouldn’t, it was quite the sight if she did say so herself, and she could see him practically forget what he was doing when she once again squat her fat ass down low, making sure to arch her back a little, safely, and give him an even nicer view~ He was twice her size, handsome, and looked like he could lift her with one arm~ She had to admit she was a little interested~

“You know, if you take a picture it’ll last longer~” Rouge’s voice cut through the relative silence of the gym, making the much larger man jump just slightly at her low, purring voice, his eyes shooting up from her twin, sweat dripping globes to her beautiful, smirking face looking back at him in the mirror, her large, pretty eyes half lidded before she gave him a little wink. “Or maybe you’re more of a ‘hands on experience’ kind of guy~”

Sadly, life wasn’t a porno, and she knew it’d take more then some heavy handed flirting to have him, say, fuck her over that bench over there, and she was proven right when she made the massive man cough into his hand and look away, obviously taken by surprise by her sudden advance, his slight blush cute on such a handsome stud. That’s okay, she liked when they played hard to get~

And the great thing about gyms~? People never wore clothing made to conceal their body, quite the opposite in fact, so when she saw him try and turn his body slightly away to hide the massive fucking snaking bulge down his shorts pant leg, Rouge knew right away that today was going to be exciting~ But, she wasn’t done with her set, so she continued her squats while listening to music, making sure to act like she didn’t see him turn back around to “secretly” stare at her ass again~

Her muscles burned exactly how she wanted them to, and sweat dripped down her cheeks like she was in a photoshoot. Yeah, she was fucking gorgeous~ What, wasn’t she allowed to love herself~? She obviously wasn’t the only one who thought she looked great considering her new nameless friend had gone back to full on staring as she finally finished her workout.

With a breath of relief, she finally dropped the weight into it’s proper place on the rack and grabbed her phone from her bag, music still playing through her cordless earbuds, checking her messages and changing the song with a towel over her neck. All the while she made sure to keep her back to the stud still watching, slowly rocking and shaking her hips to her music knowing he was enjoying the extra jiggle she was showing~ And she had a lot more planned to convince him to come play~

First it was a selfie, slightly bending at the waist and pushing her breasts up for the camera, a nice pouty face, and showing him her fat ass just a bit more, and the camera of course~ Next came turning her back to the mirror to take a few nice pics from the back, showing off just how those sweaty cheeks swallowed up that little pink thong between them~ Some nice captions about Friday night, and the next stage of her plan was in place~

“Well if you’re not going to take any pictures, maybe you could help me with a few instead~?” Suddenly her big beautiful eyes were on the man once again, who was still surprised, but not as much as last time, and she hooked her finger at him for him to come closer, smirking devilishly at him~ “Or better yet, shoot a video for me real fast, wouldn’t you~? I’m sure you’d make a wonderful camera man, you already seem to focus on my best assets~”

“U-Uh, sure, yeah, I can do that..” Was all he said as he suddenly stood up, walking over slowly as if she wouldn’t notice the massive hard-on damn near knocking his knees down his shorts, worse still since standing up straight he was twice her size, her face literally coming up to said bulge as he finally stood in front of her. “So do I use your phone or..?”

Rouge cocked her wide, sultry hips to the side and put her hand on her left hip, looking at the massive throbbing bulge in front of her face before looking up the man’s cut, tatted body appreciatively, before she seductively smiled up at the man without a hint of shame or hesitation.

“And here I thought a guy twice my size could handle all this, guess size doesn’t matter after all~” She purred as she stepped in close and pushed his hips back, walking him back until he sat on the bench she had her gym bag on, right next to the mirror. “Though I’m sure someone as big as you has never had to deal with that before, have you~?”

“Just calm down big guy, just sit back, relax, and make sure it’s recording before you start staring at my ass~ Again~” Rouge stood between the man’s legs proudly and confidently, her massive, bouncy breasts inches above his bulge as she played some music on her phone and handed it over to him, camera at the ready.

The man was stunned, used to some attention from attractive women, sure, but this thicc little bat had him ready with camera in hand to record her ass and he didn’t even know her name. He was overwhelmed, surprised, and harder then he’d ever been in his entire life. Fuck he loved shortstacks. And the moment she turned away and took a few steps forward to give him a fantastic view of that ass, he pressed the record button and the show began.

With some little leg stretching, Rouge started by gently shaking her fat ass side to side, letting those shiny, sweaty, extra fat globes wobble and jiggle a bit while bending forward at the waist, pressing that ass up and out for the camera. This wasn’t the first time she’d shaken her ass for a camera, and it wouldn’t be the last if she had any say in the matter~

With a little show of flexibility, Rouge grabbed her ankles while wagging her massive, lewd hips side to side, rubbing her hands slowly up her long, smooth legs before grabbing her own knees as the bass of the music dropped, her eager camera man moving the cam in closer, and Rouge decided to get to why she had 100K followers~

With a nice hard drop of the music Rouge looked over her shoulder with a grin and a wink and dropped her ass up and down, twerking those massive, shiny globes of meaty ass, bouncing those twin cheeks to the beat while that tiny little pink thong was swallowed up between those hungry mountains of cake~ Those huge, plump, juicy thighs flexed as she twerked like a whore for the camera, sweat dripped down the warm valley of her ass while the camera caught every detail in 4K, she even blew a nice lewd kiss to the camera while she wiggled her little tail~

Both of those cheeks jiggled and rippled with every move she made, and she decided she wanted a little more energy before she got to the main act~! Suddenly, Rouge dropped that fat, bubbly ass down low to the ground, raising her arms above her head and letting those massive cheeks spread apart with every twerk of her wide, slutty hips, showing that little thong for just a second before her cheeks met together in a nice, loud, meaty clap of flesh on flesh, and she couldn’t help but grin at the way her camera man’s cock throbbed and twitched against his shorts~!

Suddenly she dropped on all fours as began twerking that ass faster, bouncing that ass while she was face down ass up, her wings laid out flat at her sides while the camera focused on her extra curvy body, and just as she kept her upper body down, and lifted her ass up high with her toes planted on the ground, Rouge dropped her ass down, her legs in a deep, perfect split as she threw her bubble booty up and down to the music.

“Still getting this, handsome~?” Rouge looked back at the man who was practically drooling, just to get a dumb nod as he once again adjusted his cock in his pants. “Sigh, do I really have to spell this out for you~?”

With a strong flap of her wings, Rouge was once again standing, or, twerking in a nice squat, throwing that jiggly ass in a circle while she clapped her cheeks for the cam, every single inch of that smooth, creamy skin wobbling in HD on the small screen before she that she had enough foreplay~

With a sudden step up onto some dumbbells, Rouge was the perfect hight to back that booty up and drop it down on the stud’s crotch, pressing those warm, meaty, sweaty cheeks against that massive snaking cock through his clothes before beginning her show once again, twerking those wide, slutty, birthing hips like a pro, grinding and rubbing that cock between the hot valley of her ass while she looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, as if daring him to tell her he doesn’t know what it is she’s asking for~

“Oh fuck-!” The man growled but kept that bouncing bubbly booty in frame as it twerked right up on his cock, so close the camera could see the droplets of sweat as the dripped down her cheeks and thighs, down her lower back, and he just couldn’t resist giving those meaty cheeks a nice hard smack~!

“Hmm, you can do it harder then that~!” Rouge grabbed the man’s thighs and began throwing her ass back for him, knowing that her prey was right in her palm, and all she had to do was make sure he couldn’t get away~

Suddenly, the busty bat babe with the bubbly booty reached back and grabbed the waistband of her new lover’s shorts, yanking his shorts down as quick as she could and letting that massive bitch breaker spring free into the open air, thicker then her wrist and so long and heavy it slapped down with a nice weighty, meaty slap between her sweaty asscheeks, and right across her lower back~!

“Son of a bitch-!” The stud could barely handle the view of his massive, veiny, steaming hot cock between those velvety cheeks, or how huge it looked as it went up her lower back, FUCK he loved shortstacks! And the moment the little bat babe started twerking her ass even harder, sandwiching his cock between those hot, slippery cheeks while she bounced her twin globes of meaty ass, milking each and every inch of his cock in long, rough, jiggly grinding bounces, he damn near snapped there!

“Fuck, you are huge~” Rouge was getting excited, she could feel his cock leaking precum between her asscheeks like a leaky faucet as she bounced and twerked her ass on that pole, knowing he was going to split her in fucking half~! She had half a mind to choke on that cock if she wasn’t so hungry for an ass pounding~!

Suddenly, he felt those massive cheeks clap on his cock over and over again while she grinned evilly back at him, and he could only grit his teeth and resist the urge to throw her phone across the room, only barely remembering to record his own cock trapped between those clapping cheeks as they went up and down his cock before they started clapping on the very tip of his cock.

“What do you say we skip the dinner and flowers and skip right to the anal, huh~? I bet you can’t wait to fuck this fat fucking ass~! Stop holding back and-!” Suddenly Rouge felt the man grab her by the wide hips and heard her phone get thrown into her bag, the music following but still audible, and suddenly she felt her entire world turn around before she was bent over the bench the stud was just sat on, her toes reach hard to find the ground before finally finding purchase, just for her to realize she was quite literally bent over with her ass raised as high into the air as she could get it.

She was just about to make some smart ass comment about handling a lady with care when she felt that massive cock slap down between her cheeks again and right across her lower back, reminding her how big the cock about to stuff her ass really was~ The feeling of the massive stud’s hands grabbing her hips reminded her just how much bigger then her he was as well, and she just knew he was gonna fuck her like a fleshlight~!

“It’s about time, I thought I’d have to start sending smoke signals~” Reaching back, Rouge pulled her thong aside and revealed her tiny, needy little puckered asshole right next to the man’s massive bitchbreaker, covering her own little cunt with her hand and looking back hungrily at him with her best set of ‘fuck me’ eyes~ “When I said anal, I meant it~ You better fuck my ass as hard as you can, I wouldn’t want all this to be for nothing~”

The man didn’t even respond, simply giving that extra fat ass a nice hard smack that left a nice red mark on her smooth skin, and Rouge knew her prey wasn’t getting away now even if he wanted to~

Grabbing the edge of the bench, and giving her ass a few more playful bounces to the music, Rouge held on as best she could as the stud grabbed his massive prick with one hand and lined up that massive tip with her tiny asshole, and she could only grit her teeth in pleasure as she felt his strength behind his hips, where he suddenly slammed that cock tip against her little pucker for all of a second before forcing that cock half way into her tiny, needy, slutty little asshole so hard the entire bench rocked along with her body, but he didn’t stop, he was only halfway in, giving her ass another smack and grabbing both hips, he yanked the slutty little bat bitch back and slammed his hips forward until her ass clapped back onto his waist with as much strength as he could muster.

“FUCK~!!” Rouge couldn’t help the yelp of pleasure as she was suddenly stuffed fuller then she could remember, her ass rippling with that nice meaty clap against his hips, and she could only roll her tongue out and her eyes up as she felt his hefty nuts smack her dripping cunt, and they were just starting. Though starting implied a build up, and there was anything but that~

“GRRR!!!” The man snarled as he suddenly yanked his cock out of the tightest little fuck hole he’d ever felt before slamming back in even harder then the first time, then again, and again, yanking his new fleshlight forward and back to meet his thrusts or yanks out to make his slamming twice as hard, and hard it was as suddenly the entire gym was filled with the wild, frantic, meaty clapping of flesh on flesh as he stuffed that slutty little bat as hard as he fucking couldm slamming and pounding that ass and little asshole like a wild animal while she started screaming and squealing in pure, unbridled pleasure~!

“Y-YES~!! YES~!! YEEESSS~!!! OH FUCK YES~!!” Rouge’s entire fucking world rocked and bounced as she was rammed and railed by the massive, strong, wild beast suddenly rearranging her guts with his massive fucking cock, she could barely hear her own squeals over him clapping her cheeks so hard she knew she’d be sore later~! Her perfectly manicured nails dug into the leather of the bench as she tried to desperately hold on for dear life, her shoes barely finding grip on the ground as they slipped here and there sometimes, and the entire steel and leather bench rocked and knocked against the ground, only adding the sounds of the brutal, vicious buttfucking she was getting~!!

And brutal it was, the man’s pace was like a jackhammer as he railed and fucked the little slutty bat’s asshole like a wild beast, just gritting his teeth in a snarl as he took out all his post workout stress on that fat jiggling, rippling ass, even going so far as to smack that fat ass like a stress toy, clapping those cheeks as fast as he fucking could while his nuts dripped with the bat’s dripping juices, even his abs burned from how hard and fast he was slamming that extra fat and slutty ass~!!

“FUCK MY ASS LIKE THE WHORE I AM~!! USE MY ASSHOLE LIKE A FUCKTOY~!” Rouge could barely tell up from down as her things fell to the ground with a clatter, and she couldn’t give a damn~! Her big, beautiful eyes crossed and rolled up as drool dripped down her chin, teeth grit, and she could only squeal like a buttslut getting her fix, cause in that moment, where her entire world rocked and bounced so hard and fast she could feel the bench under her creak with strain, she knew that’s exactly what she was, a needy buttslut getting her fix~!!

Suddenly, Rouge couldn’t hold on at all, as his already brutal and vicious pace double in intensity, and he brutally and frantically railed that extra fat ass so hard and fast it sounded like a drum from how loud he was clapping his hips against that fat, juicy set of cheeks! She couldn’t hold on, but she didn’t need to as he held onto her hips and used her like a fleshlight while she could only stay bent over to take it~!

When she felt him finally snarl and slam in balls deep one final time, Rouge could only scream so loud she was sure every person outside could hear her pretty voice as he roughly slammed in like he owned her little asshole~! And suddenly, Rouge felt the man blow his extra hot, stringy, thick, bubbly load deep in her asshole while he yanked out half way just to continue slamming in to fuck her through his and her climax~!!

And suddenly, he stopped as his last nut was stuffed deep inside her ass, and all the sound in the room stopped besides their pair of heavy breathing, and the sudden wet pop and lewd sounds of his cum pouring out of the slutty bat’s little gaping backdoor~

And just like that, Rouge was satisfied, and the stud laid down on his back, sweat dripping down their bodies, and both completely tired.

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

Water washed down the sultry curves of Rouge’s body, down each and every perfect line of her body while she rinsed the rest of her expensive shampoo out of her hair, sighing in deep, lovely relief as she turned off the hot water and stepped out into the gym washroom, gently drying herself off with a beautiful smile.

And once she was finished drying off, slipping on a pair of little booty shorts and a new sports bra, she was perfectly applying her make up once again, winking in the mirror before looking for her phone in her bag, not spotting it, she snapped her fingers in realization. Stepping out of the locker room, Rouge casually strolled up to the still panting ad sweaty man on his back, just to find her phone on the floor next to the bench she was just railed on.

“Hmm~” Rouge picked up her phone, looked down at the strong, muscular, handsome stud, and reached into her bag to pull out a piece of paper and a pen, writing her phone number on it before dropping it next to him.

“That was fun, don’t you think~? Let’s do this again sometime~ Call me~” And just like that she walked away from the scene of the ‘crime’, a sultry sway in her wide, sexy hips while her ass jiggled with every step, already thinking of what to have for lunch while the stud behind her wondered if he could survive doing that again.

Fuck he loves shortstacks..

[s1utspeare]

@staidwaters asked for Li Cu and “selcouth” (in reference to this post; send me a prompt!), and since someone ELSE requested selcouth for a character I gave you an extra word lmao. THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE PROMPT!!! I LOVE U!

Also I will put these in a whole collection on ao3 at some point lol. 

selcouth—unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful hiraeth—a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home with maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

There’s a time, when he returns, when he realizes he doesn’t know where home is. 

Objectively, of course, he knows where he lives. He knows that there’s an apartment with his father in it and his bed and clothes and things are there, but that’s different. It never quite was a home, but it really isn’t anymore, because it’s just… it’s so small. He’s spent weeks with the stars as his ceiling, even more looking at the same four walls of his room in the Wang compound, so an apartment with beat-up furniture and storage closet that was never used for storing things isn’t that much different from any other apartment he could be in. 

He tries going to Su Wan’s first. Part of him wants to because he missed Su Wan, but it’s mostly because he didn’t know for weeks if his best friend was dead or alive, so when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a short, sharp gasp, all he has to do is listen, and he can hear Su Wan breathing next to him in the bed. Also, Su Wan will cuddle him whether Li Cu wants him to or not, so that’s nice. 

It doesn’t last, though, because every morning he has to go downstairs and say hi to Su Wan’s parents, and Su Wan’s parents tolerate him, but they don’t really like him, and they really don’t like him now, after he filled their garage with packages and dragged Su Wan off into the desert. Also, sometimes he doesn’t want to be cuddled because that’s like arms pinning him to the ground and it takes all his willpower not to punch a sleeping Su Wan in the face, but to instead lie stiff as a board until morning. 

So he packs up his stuff and moves to Hao-ge’s, which is different, but not exactly better. Hao-ge is dealing with his own grief, his own loss, and Li Cu feels in the way of all that fury and rage. He knows, logically, that Hao-ge doesn’t blame him anymore, but he can still see Hao-ge’s face, streaked with tears, his fist pulled back, his voice strangled with anger and pain. Li Cu’s leg throbs. 

He stays for three days, just to be polite. He watches their shop while Hao-ge goes out of town to visit some relatives, to figure out what they’re going to do with his grandmother’s things. He knows Hao-ge is probably going to sell the store. It’s not just because he doesn’t want to run it; he honestly can’t, financially. Hao-ge’s not ready to let it go, quite yet, so when he gets back, Li Cu lets him have the space back, to trace over and memorize the corners of his home before he has to leave, makes a mental note to bring Su Wan over to help him pack, to keep him distracted. He didn’t sleep well at Hao-ge’s anyway, especially when he was gone. It was too quiet then. 

He can’t couch surf, after that. All the rest of his friends are dead. 

He uses some of the stupid money that Wu Xie paid him at the very beginning—and it’s really not even enough, Wu Xie should be putting him through college—to rent a hotel room for a couple nights. That’s nice at first. He has his own space, a big shower, cable tv. But he doesn’t know it, his body can’t relax in an unfamiliar room with big, wide windows and only one lock. He spends two sleepless nights lying on his back, on his side, on his stomach, pacing the carpet. He gives up after night two, when everything’s hazy and dull in the back of his head, and checks out. 

He spends the afternoon wandering around the city, toeing past the restaurants and coffee shops and arcades that he used to hang out in, the soccer fields and schools and parks he passed every day. There’s the manhole cover that broke and the city’s never gotten around to fix it, so there are perpetual orange cones around it in a cult-like circle—no, no, don’t think about cults, cones can’t have cults, it’s just a circle, Li Cu, come on—and there’s the statue of a dog near the center of the park near his house and he likes dogs, even more when they’re—not attacking him, they didn’t attack him, the dust of Wu Xie’s grandfather is ground into your bloodstream—and there’s the library that he and Shen Qiong used to go to for story time when they were really young—and now she’s young forever, a bullet in her brain between her eyes she died angry with you she died alone she died at the hands of her family—and eventually he’s on the soccer field and he’s lying flat on his back in the grass but there’s too much light and he can’t see the stars. 

He can’t see the stars. 

He can’t fall asleep if he can’t see the stars. If he can’t see the stars maybe he’s underground again, maybe—

“Kid, you can’t sleep there.” 

He lifts his head, wearily. It aches, heavy on his neck. It got dark at some point, except not right now, because there’s a police officer shining his flashlight into his eyes, and he squints into it. 

“Come on,” the officer says, “Go home.” 

Li Cu laughs and flops back onto the grass. The police officer mutters something that sounds like a swear word under his breath and comes through the gate, marching over to Li Cu and hauling him, albeit gently, off of the turf. 

“You been drinking?” the officer asks. Li Cu shakes his head. “Can’t smell any on you.” The man scoffs. “Jeez, kid, no offense, but you look terrible.”

Li Cu just blinks at him. He’s really tired, actually. 

The officer sighs. “Come on, I’ll drive you home. You got an ID?” 

Li Cu remembers that his ID is in his wallet which is in the pocket of his backpack and he knows it’s there because he had to use it to pay for the hotel.

 He hands the entire thing to the officer, who sorts through it, glancing at Li Cu every so often in concern, and clicking his tongue contentedly when he finds what he’s looking for. 

“Alright,” he says, “Let’s get you home.”

Li Cu’s glad this officer knows where his home is, because Li Cu has no idea.

Never mind. Li Cu is pretty sure this isn’t his house. 

The police officer rings the doorbell, and unfamiliar chime. A loud, deep voice inside says, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” and then the door is flying open, and a large man with wild hair is staring down at them. 

Li Cu frowns because he has no idea who this guy is. 

The guy seems to know him, though, because he rolls his eyes, turns back into the house and shouts, “TIANZHEN!” 

Li Cu winces, cause his head kind of hurts now, and that was not helpful. 

The man turns back to look at them. “What did he do?” 

“Uh,” the officer says, because he’s shorter than Li Cu, actually, so he must be feeling very intimidated by this large man, “He was sleeping on the soccer field at the high school.” 

The door man snorts. “Of course he was.” He folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe, looks Li Cu over. “Yeah, you look like a mess, Ya Li.” 

“Wha?” Li Cu says, because that’s weird, that this strange giant man with large arms is calling him Ya Li. 

“That’s what Xiao Wan called you, right?” the man asks. “Su Wan? Your best friend?” 

Li Cu gapes. “How do you know Su Wan?” He backs up a step. “Is someone stalking me again?” 

The police officer looks very alarmed at that. “Again?” 

“He’s joking,” the Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li says, “No one’s stalking him. His friends came to me for help a while back, but he wasn’t with them.” 

The police officer does not seem convinced, but at that moment, a familiar face appears in the doorway behind the Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li. 

“Wu Xie?” Li Cu asks.  

Wu Xie looks just as surprised as Li Cu is. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” the officer says, “He was trying to sleep on the soccer field. Which is actually illegal. So I brought him home.” He frowns. “This is his home, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Li Cu says. 

“Yes,” Wu Xie says quickly. “Yes, you brought him to the right place. Sorry, he’s been a little out of it lately. Stress at school, you know. Not sleeping very well.” 

“How’d you know that?” Li Cu asks in surprise, because as far as he can remember, he hasn’t seen Wu Xie since before the Wang compound. There’s a fuzzy memory of an apology, of being carried, but after he’d been thrown out the window, he woke up on a train. 

He glares at the windows to the side of the house. He does not trust them. 

Wu Xie gathers him by the shoulders and pulls him through the doorway. “Thank you, officer. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.” 

“Okay…” the police officer says. “Um. Get some rest, kid.” 

“Mmm hmm,” Li Cu mumbles, even though he knows that probably won’t happen, and Wu Xie shuts the door. 

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks. “You’re supposed to be at home.” 

“I dunno where it is,” Li Cu says. He yawns, widely. How long has it been since he slept? He has no idea. 

“You don’t know where your house is?” Wu Xie says slowly, like he’s trying to figure something out. He’ll be able to do it. Wu Xie has a Big Brain. 

“My house is where my house is,” Li Cu says vaguely. “I dunno where’s home.” 

Wu Xie goes silent for a moment. “I see.” 

Li Cu blinks himself into less of a stupor, figures out where his hands went (they were on the end of his arms). “I’ll go back there, I guess. Sorry.” 

“No, no, wait,” Wu Xie says, which is funny, because Li Cu hasn’t moved. “It’s late. You’re… really tired. We have a couch.” 

“Good for you,” Li Cu congratulates him. 

Wu Xie closes his eyes for a second, gritting his teeth. “The couch is for you.” 

“You’re giving me a couch?” 

“Oh my god,” Wu Xie says. 

The Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li laughs. “You sure chose a good one, Tianzhen.” 

“Shut up, Pangzi,” Wu Xie mutters, because apparently he is this Tianzhen person. 

“Make him take a nap for an hour,” Pangzi says, wandering off down the hall. “Then dinner’ll be ready.” 

“We had dinner earlier,” Wu Xie calls after him. 

Pangzi stops, looks at Wu Xie pointedly. “Nope. Dinner. In an hour. So the kid can join us.” 

“Oh,” Wu Xie says. “Oh, right. Yeah. Dinner.” 

Li Cu might puzzle through this if he were more awake, but he’s really not. “What?” 

Wu Xie sighs at him. Li Cu should really stop making him do that. “Alright,” he says, “Come with me.” 

Li Cu dutifully follows Wu Xie down the hallway, because he’s followed Wu Xie into worse places. 

They come out into a wide-open room, full of books and random vases and boxes of papers and bits and bobs. Sure enough, there’s a couch there, and Wu Xie steers Li Cu over to it, pushing against his shoulders gently to make him sit. The couch is pretty soft, a well-worn type of feel to it, like someone has sat here every day for years and years and filled it full of memories. 

“I’m not going to ask if you need to be hom—back at your place, because I really doubt it,” Wu Xie tells him. His voice is coming from below Li Cu’s ears, so Li Cu looks down to see Wu Xie pulling off one of his boots, so Li Cu flops over his knees to pull of the other one, but his fingers get tangled in the laces, and he gives up and lets Wu Xie do it.

Wu Xie sighs at him. He takes Li Cu’s backpack and puts it next to the coffee table, where Li Cu can see it. He appreciates that. It’s good to know where things are. If you know where your things are, you can’t lose them. If you know where snakes are, they can’t bite you. If you know where Wu Xie is, you don’t have to miss him. 

“Lie down,” Wu Xie says softly, and the couch really is comfortable, so Li Cu tentatively pulls his legs up and sets his head down and gazes at the lamp next to an armchair. 

Wu Xie drags the throw blanket from the back of the couch and settles it around Li Cu’s body, which might be a little overkill, because Li Cu isn’t going to be here that long, he’s just going to rest for a moment, and then he’ll leave. Then he’ll get out of Wu Xie’s way. He’ll go back. Just a few minutes. 

Wu Xie straightens up, grunting a little bit, and Li Cu almost says, don’t go, but he bites his tongue.  He can’t ask that much of Wu Xie. Wu Xie’s already giving him a couch. 

But then, Wu Xie doesn’t leave. He goes over to the armchair, picks up the notebook lying tent-style over its arm, flips through it. Someone’s glasses are on the end table, and that someone turns out to be Wu Xie, because they go on his nose as he takes in whatever the journal says, chewing the inside of his cheek absently and tapping a pattern out on his knee. 

Li Cu blinks, slowly. Wu Xie is warm and marvelous, he thinks. He’s fading into a soft glow, backlit by a warm light that reminds Li Cu of something, something good, something he thought he lost, but maybe not. Maybe not. 

He falls asleep and dreams he’s home.

[joelcrowley]

welcoming joel, the man who would sell each and every one of you to satan for a corn chip. trigger warnings: drug use, toxic relationship, alcoholism, violence.

basics

name: joel thomas crowley

nicknames: joe, joey, son of a bitch

birthday/age: 6th may, 1985, 04:01 / thirty-six

gender/pronouns: cis-male / he, him

sexuality: pansexual - though he wouldn’t label himself

zodiacs: taurus ☉ ; sagittarius ☽ ; pisces 🡕

occupation: unemployed. he boxes occasionally and picks up small jobs here and there. he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty so hmu if u need a lil henchman.

hobbies: he has numerous toxic hobbies but he’s also a pianist and an avid gym-goer. 

neighbourhood: the docks.

length of time in crescent harbour: two years.

place of birth: liverpool, england.

height: 6′1″ (185cm)

moral alignment: chaotic evil.....rip

positive traits: charming, humorous, resilient, confident, quick-witted, passionate, persistent, creative.

negative traits: rebellious, deceitful, cruel, vengeful, cunning, antagonistic.

scent: bergamot, lavender, pepper, ambroxan.

background

born in liverpool to a large family, joel was the eldest brother. his family were impoverished and both parents were neglectful, so he found ways to survive. this first began as begging outside corner shops for food before he resorted to theft. he’d steal from his parents, from strangers, from those in his class. it soon became an act he did for a thrill as opposed to putting food in his mouth. he quickly learnt the importance of making friends and how these friends were all the more willing to offer a helping hand. 

whilst joel was a street-smart kid, he was only slightly above average for his studies and put very little of his time into revision. he much preferred going through the motion of things and didn’t dwell too much on school. though nothing exceptional, it still afforded him a decent college education and the opportunity to go to university. upon acceptance, he leaves his family at the drop of a hat and heads north to scotland.

he attends the university of edinburgh and studies law. unsurprisingly, he’s good at it in all the ways he’s good at lying. he’s well-liked by his peers, considered the life of the party and soon begins dabbling in the narcotics which surround his friend group. when he realises this could be his source of income, he turns a weekend hobby into a lifestyle. it exists as more of a rumour to those outside of his inner circle but he holds a reputation as the ‘go to’ within this group and it keeps him afloat. 

at this time, he meets charlotte at university. he appears as all the things which accumulate as a good partner; good grades, charming, a little unhinged but exciting to be around. though brief, this is the first moment in joel’s life where he considers the feelings of someone else. he falls for her slowly and then all at once.

outside of his relationships, he’s sporty - particularly in boxing - and as he improves, he gradually garners the attention of the wrong people. whilst this isn’t a moment in his life which requires sympathy, there is a cause for concern when he fits in as if his sharp edges were nothing more than a puzzle piece waiting to slot into place. he’s not the nice guy getting caught up. he belongs there. 

eventually, they recognise there could be some real money in these fights. however, the people that grow to learn this are not good people by any means. they’re money hungry, twisted, the kind who’d give you a black eye before they shake your hand. he’s not scared of them but he’s not foolish either. so, when they recognise his ‘talent’, they begin using him as a source of increasing their income and heavy money gets put into his fights. he makes more than his hands could ever hold.

with this tarnished wealth, he spends it in the most familiar fashion - recklessly. blow, alcohol, feeding all the toxic habits which both him and lotte possess. he wastes all of it to destroy the pair of them. they have a tumultuous and toxic relationship, no strangers to frequent affairs, which sends them to destinations he once only knew on the face of a map. when he proposes to her, it’s not some romantic affair over candlelight dinner and an orchestra. he wins an overtly tasteless diamond ring in a game of poker and in an intoxicated stupor he makes the decision to propose. she says yes, they fool themselves into a happiness that charlotte leaves soon after. abandoning him for a place he’d heard of only briefly.

unfortunately, this impetuous life he endures continues to dismantle when he loses a crucial boxing match. he ends up in severe debt and unable to pay it back. they break his bones, mottle his flesh black and blue and only when they threaten to drop him in the union canal do they stop. this is a cycle which repeats itself, growing closer to his penultimate finale in each scenario. until, he runs. using his educated background as a means to send himself all the way to CH to find the woman who had up and left him. 

some more notes

has a strong scouse accent 

has a degree but doesn’t desire to use it. picks up small jobs here and there instead.

loves classical music

probably won’t pay you back

hasn’t spoke to his family in many years

the human equivalent of a blocked sewage drain

wanted connections

flings - short-term or long-term. these interactions mean nothing to him so it’s unlikely you’ll get your next otp out of him (unless your otp is joel x prison). forgive me.

people he might do jobs for

a housemate he only intended on crashing with for a night

all the enemies/hateships - this can be for numerous reasons; you’re friends with charlotte, he undercut you when selling narcotics, he slept with your current or ex partner, he deceived you in some way, he did a job for a relative of yours and you disapprove.

a friend or two (or rather someone who tolerates him) - i need to strongly emphasise that if your character is friends with joel then he would sell them out without question if it suited him. 

[lilibetts]

Please wait, LoveAlarm is syncing itself to your heart!

Falling In Love With Riverdale, Theme 1: Sugar

Part 1/3

At this very moment in the not-so-idyllic town of Riverdale, Betty Cooper is 16 years, 41 weeks, 1 day, 20 hours and 34 minutes old and, to see Kevin describe it, she has been in love with Archie Andrews for 1 year, 5 months, and 14 days.

From inside the relative security of the F Hallway girls’ bathroom, she takes a deep breath to mark the magnitude of the moment, and hits [Install] on her phone. It takes less than a minute for the blue line to complete a circle and once it does, she opens the app and fills in her personal details.

Please wait, the app cheerily asks her, bright pinks and blues swirling across the screen, LoveAlarm is syncing itself to your heart!

Well, Betty sighs to herself, there’s no going back now. 

LoveAlarm is the latest matchmaking app to launch and in the two weeks since, it seems like *everyone* at Riverdale High has downloaded it. It syncs itself to your heart and a bright red heart alarm would ping if there is someone within twenty feet who loves you.

Naturally, the romantic landscape of Riverdale High School has been completely leveled. 

Midge Klump and Moose Mason both downloaded the app, only for it to tell Midge her love was unrequited. Ginger Lopez had situated herself in a prime location outside the gym doors when basketball practice let out—nobody within twenty feet of her—in the hopes that when the team’s star power forward, Anthony Parrish, came out, their phones would mutually ping. 

Instead, it was Ben Button who walked down that stretch of the hallway; instead, it was Ben Button who made her phone ping.  Then Anthony came out and *his* phone pinged, but Ginger’s did not again. According to the school grapevine, Ginger had lost her shit and called Ben a ‘baby-faced freak’.

Truthfully, the whole concept behind the app horrifies Betty, but she has to know. Making sure that every possible setting for the app is set to her phone’s vibrate function, she shoulders her backpack and heads into the cafeteria.

The walls are decorated from corner to corner with red, white, and pink streamers in anticipation of the Valentine’s Day party that will be held on Friday. PizzaShak is giving them a great deal on heart-shaped pizzas.

Her friends are at their usual table in the corner and with every step Betty takes, she is closer to knowing. When Archie hears his phone chime once she is within the twenty feet circumference, will he put two-and-two together? Will her own phone buzz with the truth? All around her, the crowded cafeteria is full of hopefuls checking their phones.

The round table has three curved benches attached to it. Kevin and Veronica share one, and across from them, Jughead and Archie split the other two. Betty slides into the space on Jughead’s left, exchanging happy hellos with her friends. Wordlessly, she hands over one of the two sandwiches she’d packed for Jughead to take. As always, he makes a show of letting out an aggrieved sigh when he spots the lettuce and sliced tomato in there with the turkey, but dutifully takes his sandwich while sliding over the remaining brownie square from his vending machine packet. This is their unspoken pact: she makes sure the bottomless pit that is Jughead Jones is sated with something healthier, he makes sure she gets a non-Alice-approved treat.

The sandwich she made is gone in three bites.

<Good?> she signs, arching one eyebrow.

<You know it,> Jughead replies, still chewing the last mouthful of turkey sandwich.

Betty has been deaf since she was three years old, after a bout with meningitis, and just because she’s well-liked among her peers doesn’t mean many of them would go as far as to learn sign language for her. That Kevin, Archie, Jughead, and Veronica have is part and parcel of why they’re her best friends.

A booted foot taps insistently against hers under the table and Betty turns away from Jughead, still grinning, to focus on Kevin. 

/Did you watch The Bachelor last night?/ His hands move as rapidly as he speaks.

/No,/ Betty tells him. /Unlike you, I actually studied for the History test./

“Har har,” Kevin deadpans. They’re both distracted by Veronica clapping her hands. 

“OMG!” she says gleefully, slapping Kevin’s bicep. /Kelley is an ICON! I told you./

As much as Betty loves her friends’ ridiculously dramatic day-after recaps, she’s too distracted to really pay attention to whatever last night’s spectacle had been about. Across the table, Archie is checking his phone, thumbs tapping and sliding across the screen. A wide grin splits his face and he turns the screen out to show Jughead.

3 people in a twenty feet radius love you!

Betty flushes and looks away, embarrassed. Of course. As covertly as possible, she takes advantage of everyone’s inattention to check her own phone.

Zero.

Nobody within a twenty feet radius loves you.

As Cheryl Strayed wrote, “acceptance is a small, quiet room”. As the realization sinks in, Betty watches, as if from a greater distance, Archie glancing around at the nearby tables, determined to figure out who those three people could be. After a few murmured words from Jughead that she can’t decipher thanks to his head being turned away from her, Archie takes off to make the rounds. A process of elimination, most likely.

Betty isn’t sure what she feels. Irritation more than disappointment? Relief? The latter emotion surprises her, especially now that she knows Archie isn’t in love with her. Kevin, and then later Veronica when she’d arrived in Riverdale, have been after her to confess her feelings to Archie but Betty has kept demurring or putting it off. Her usual excuse being that she’s too scared to wreck her friendship with him. 

Sure, they’re right when they say she’s being a coward; but is her relief after the LoveAlarm revelation just relief that now she won’t have to actually bare her heart?

She turns off her phone.

                                   ******************************************

                                                    He knows he shouldn’t be, that this definitely qualifies as eavesdropping, but here Jughead is, glancing up and over to the table where Betty is sneakily carrying on a conversation with Veronica.

It’s 7th period Honors Bio and all they need to do is finish a worksheet before the bell rings, which is easy enough, but Mr. Beeker had also stipulated silence in the classroom, so it’s a clever loophole that Betty has found. Abby, her interpreter, is absorbed in her phone, leaving Jughead to covertly watch shifting hand shapes and fingerspelled letters.

<You’re not as s-t-e-a-l-t-h-y as you think you are,> Veronica signs smugly.

<??>

<Your phone. At lunch. You d-l LoveAlarm.> Smugness melts into concern. <Well?>

This is news to Jughead, and unwelcome news at that. He shouldn’t be surprised that Betty has downloaded that stupid app and really, he should’ve seen it coming. Dread fills him as he awaits her response.

Of course Jughead refuses to download LoveAlarm. Why would he give an app his heart data? They’d only sell it to soulless companies looking to target him with ads tailored to the object of his romantic yearning.

Betty.

The facts are these: Jughead Jones is 17 years, 3 days, 6 hours and 11 minutes old. He’s also been aware that he’s deeply, irrevocably in love with Betty Cooper for 1 year, 4 months, and 19 days. An eternity, basically.

 A rare beam of sunlight has broken through the February gray outside, casting a pale glow on her downturned face, the long eyelashes that brush her cheeks. It’s the flare of her nostrils and the tight press of her lips together that tell him she’s upset. 

There’s a sharp pang in his chest.

<He doesn’t.> The words, accompanied by a shake of Betty’s head that makes her ponytail bounce, are all he needs to understand. 

Jughead isn’t obtuse, he knows which ‘he’ they’re talking about, the only one ‘he’ it could be: Archie. Blame Kevin, he’s shit at subtlety. 

So, Betty had downloaded LoveAlarm and now she knows Archie isn’t in love with her. The latter isn’t news to him but he would’ve been fine if Betty had continued to go through life not knowing that particular fact. But it’s the sentence that comes next that breaks his heart.

<I have a zero. Nobody loves me.> What goes unspoken but, to Jughead, is writ large upon her face is: ‘I’m not lovable’.

He looks away from their conversation, angry that anyone would make her feel like this. Ashamed that he is a guilty party in this.

That night while lying on his bed, Jughead finds himself torn.

What he had seen earlier has given him food for thought. Which is just as well because he likes to take the time to think broadly and deeply, much in the same way he likes to eat. Next to him on the bed, his phone is open to the App Store, and LoveAlarm waits there patiently, ready for his decision.

Is Betty Cooper worth it? Unquestionably Yes.

Is he willing to risk discovery? Having his heart spilled right out there for her to see...even worse, for others to see? Vulnerable and already bruised, where it’d easily be crushed into messy smithereens?

Unable to answer that, his brain circles back around to the first question: is Betty Cooper worth it?

With a low, drawn-out groan, Jughead hits [Install] and gives corporations access to his heart.

[muwitch]

Why the Fullbringer Arc is an important plot milestone - 2

the continuation of this post and I’m bak on my bullshit~ remember my brain will jump to things

also CFYOW spoilers

so part 2/?

key figures and themes of the arc

So last time I said that ppl disliked the majority of new characters because, as opposing to the ones we grew familiar with, the arc was differently paced and so we didn’t have time at large to form some sort of solid connection to them.

And here the magic happens, because we do not have time to get attached to the characters and they seem to be faded against the background of all the others.

But apart from COMPARISON Fullbringers are quite an independent unit that focuses not on how much reiatsu you have, but on skill

In the Can't fear your own world novel the origin of Fullbringer power is revealed and it’s shown how actually universally badass those powers are, take Tsukishima for example, who grows a tree in a second to ward off lightning, simply adding himself to the past. Atomic.

For living people even just getting close to the level of those with whom they fought (three captains and three leutenants) and not dying in the first moment (except u Giriko) is a great achievement. For people who are not Ichigo Kurosaki with a family tree rivaling GoT of course. 

There is another important motive associated with fullbringers, which I mentioned above, and this is LONELINESS. And it's served so brilliantly that I'm going to die now.

If you look and read carefully, it becomes clear that even the fullbringers gathered together are unusually, exasperately lonely. (See the cover? They reach out but never do truly connect) This is the curse of their power. This is their main weakness. This is their unusual humanity and kinship with the Hollows.

This is also why, but that’s my guess, their whole presentation is very lacking, to show how they fall out of everyday life and proper sozialising, so even we, as readers, cannot properly connect to them. Same reach out, but not hold symbolism. Or I am giving too much credit, we just don’t know?

Even the one who has assembled the whole group, Ginjo, is an even lonelier person who has terrible trust issues, who survived betrayal and persecution, and everything that he once believed in was set upside down. And even knowing what kind of person he is, fullbringers, driven by loneliness, followed him. (Though, we must admit, he weilds his words well and rolls +20 on persuation)

Because, although for a short time, he helped them to bear the burden of this loneliness.

Needless to say, the entire initial situation with OG fullbringers happened not only bc of some noble meddling, but also due to the fact that Ginjo gathered people to TAKE POWER FROM THEM SO THEY COULD LIVE A NORMAL LIFE

Ironically enough, each Fullbringer posesses a piece of SOUL KING, which is the source of their power and lures Hollows to pregnant mothers, which is such an important piece of information it makes me mad it was only explained in CFYOW. 

Although it is understandable why Kubo chose not to focus on it during the arc. My take is he planned to show the importance of Fullbringers and their origins during TYBW, but we all know it didn’t happen.

Another common theme that follows from the previous two is PTSD, which unites the characters and key figures of the arc, and the paths of experiencing trauma constitute another conflict, where Ichigo overcomes it through friends and the return of strength and motivation, as opposed to Ginjo, who choses destuctive way to handle his own trauma.

In short flashbacks shown during “Pray for Predators” chapters, we can also clearly see PSTD practically in every person’s past. Each of Fullbringers go about it differenly, most proactive being probably Riruka and most reactive being Tsukishima and Ginjo. Which is also symbolically shown that people, who can go own with their lives and finally integrate into society stay alive. Those, who cannot, go to SS and are set into new path by more drastic measures.

I will surely attribute to the pluses how Kubo shows Ichigo's PTSD, literally in 3-4 chapters showing how he cannot, like Remarque's hero, settle in peacetime, because he constantly catches triggers, for example with his substitute badge.

Through Ichigo’s thoughts is shown how he merged with his position as a substitute shinigami and constantly thinks in categories that are not very applicable to his normal life, which he seemed to have dreamed of for 16 years And now he actually got it, but absolutely does not know what to do with it.

Kubo skillfully fuels PTSD and Ichigo's anxiety which is why he is being swayed by Ginjo's words correctly spoken at the right time.

 Example: Karin speaks of his brother, they say he always fought to protect  Ginjo fuels Ichigo’s doubt , saying he must act to protect his family

Accordingly, the theme approaches the climax for a push into the plot at the time of the attack on Ishida, Ichigo gets a punch in the gut twice: first from Ishida himself, who, with his unwillingness to tell things, pokes Ichigo into his helplessness and excludes him from the circle of trust, which IS the last blow 

And then from Ishida's father, who by his behavior shows that Ichigo's efficiency now amounts to zero, so much so that he cannot even protect Orihime while she walks home, which is why he runs away in frustrated feelings, realizing the message. So this intro is absolutely veritable and ingenious.

And so that you understand how desperate Ichigo is, if not yet, then here is a panel where FATTEST visual forshadowing happens. And here is an absolutely genius moment to understand that Ichigo is not a child but a teenager with all that it implies

He may be battle-hardened, but this is a 17-year-old living boy with trust issues, and if we remember that through his manager's lips we are given a direct hint that Ichigo is still immature in a way, so the meaning of this arc as a stage of Ishigo's psychological maturation becomes clearer.

Just look at the face he has when Ginjo promises to return his powers (not to mention the hysterics after that) Is this a healthy person's face?

And here my hands are literally itching to start talking about Ginjo, because to give an antihero who, in addition, will have a much closer dynamics with Ichi than Urahara, plus for the duration of the arc  will act as a mentor and father figure, this is just genius. Don’t @ me.

But the next plus, which will then bring us further, and this is THE Forshadowing 

Everywhere, just everywhere, starting from the very first pages.

And Kubo still confuses us in the course of the narrative, but my god, when you re-read, Easter eggs are crammed almost in every chapter and I think its beautiful. Both verbal (Ginjo is such a bad actor that he has to change his memory badumts) and visual

The plus that I mentioned earlier is 100% more lively dynamics between Ginjo and Ichi, because both are people and in fact, there is much more than it may seem at first, that brings both together. And the friendly connection that they establish with each other in this arc still not 100% false placeholder. (Which is easily spotted by the way Ginjo adresses Ichigo through the arc especially last chapters). 

And at the same time, they are in many ways the antonyms of each other, in age, color scheme, design, even names and also in what gives them motivation, in how they react to this or that event. For example, Ichigo is quite an emotional guy and puts his soul into everything, so to speak, then Ginjo, for example

Plus, the latter is not only skillful manipulator, but also embittered. And through such contrast, with generally the same input data, Kubo shows us that there is always a different path, leading to the topic choice, and where each specific one can lead a character.

Which absolutely doesn’t stop Ichigo from familirizing himself right off the bat and the two of them have comedy gold moments from the start. It is more lively, than being set against 300+ y.o. Urahara (whom I love as a character).

And, cross my heart Isshin is a great character, but he’s got that father of the year award, and Urahara can only give like a little itsy bitsy of information at a time only if it benefits him or a bigger picture, so the mentor’s role goes to Ginjo, which is well earned as he is technically the First Substitute. 

Ginjo is a mentor, a guide, and the main antagonist of the arc, which in itself is an unexpected and interesting combination within the framework of  Bleach. Here is a living example, in the moment of training he can go so far as to help Ichigo overcome his psychological barrier by simply and cruelly breaking him.

Which he does in the most painful way, through the trauma and inability of Ichigo to protect his loved ones. And from the reaction of the latter, childish and naive, his immaturity can be clearly seen (see the previous points). Although we do not know this yet, Ginjo is constantly trying to teach Ichigo one lesson that he himself learned the hard way. 

Combining this with such an important praise for a teenager and faith in Ighigo’s powers, which Ichigo was deprived of for 17 months as soon as he lost his powers as a shinigami ( all relatives are trying to isolate him from this, no one believes that he can and is able to stand up for him). This is another plus of the arc, namely the whole depth of the betrayal that Ichigo experiences when the cards are revealed.

Maybe the quincy arc would go completely differently, if Ichigo felt Ishida's betrayal or reacted to the truth about his mother in a different way. Did Ginjo not temper/prepare Ichigo in the way he did, did he involuntary not strengthen Ichi internally... Who knows how Bleach would end in general.

 This is to the question of the importance of this arc yes 

P.S  Strengthening the body also benefited Ichigo.Friendly reminder that he fights in his physical body for the entire arc except the end.

And the training episode immediately appears in a different light, right? 

And in my next hot take I will focus on another really important thing which is salvation and my own bitterness of why didn’t Kubo explore the whole SS thing and now we have to fee ourselves

[winterknight1087]

Flower from the Fae (ch 1)

Chapter Title: Mushrooms Were Not the Plant I Was Looking For

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend Remy tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 1647

Chapter Warnings: cursing, poisonous mushrooms (no harm from though), death mention, anxiety attack, sympathetic deceit

Pairings: Eventual Romantic LAMP; Analogical

AO3 Link     My Writing

A/N: Yeah, I’m not sure how this one happened, but writing this story has been fun. I have a couple other chapters in need of editing, so if you like this bit, be prepared for Virgil and Pat’s interaction. 

Bzzt.

[Trenta4Sandman]: So? New trend or stale coffee? [sent at 1642]

Virgil rolled his eyes at the message before responding.

[Anx’sWitch]: you literally told me less than five min ago. I can’t just Apparate like you when you run out of coffee. [sent at 1643]

[Trenta4Sandman]: bitch u aint tryin hard enough then [sent at 1643]

[Anx’sWitch]: y don’t u go flirt w/ ur SO? [sent at 1644]

[HissHissMFs]: plz. I can’t concentrate on my work with u blowing my phone up. [sent at 1645]

The purple-haired man sighed as he pocketed his phone. There were more vibrations, telling him that the conversation was far from over, but he knew it wasn’t anything important. Remy and Dee could go back and forth for hours about nothing. Virgil could always check his phone later and see which he needed to visit later. Right now, he really only cared about finding the plant Remy told him about and seeing if it were something worth his time.

Of course, the hill Remy told him the plant was located on was almost three miles from the center of town. How he even stumbled upon it was beyond Virgil, not that he would bother questioning it either. What Virgil did know was that of his friend group, Remy had the best eye for finding him new and often times endangered plants. So, he struggled out of his house and on this disgusting walk to see whatever plant it was that Remy had seen.

The top of the hill had a giant sequoia tree, tall grass, and mushrooms. Virgil set his bag down under the tree before beginning to look over the plants, reveling in the silence. First, he looked at the mushrooms, duly noting that they appeared to be a poisonous species. Next, he started looking intently at the grass.

“How peculiar. Rare to find someone so intent on staring at grass.” A voice commented.

Terror ran through Virgil, but he pushed it deep down as he turned to look. Oh, great. There goes his poor little gay heart, he supposed. The voice belonged to some other-worldly man. He had well-kept black hair so dark it almost shone a dark blue. The eyes behind rectangular glasses were a brilliant blue that put even Virgil’s prized Black and Blue Sage plants to shame.

Remy is going to lose his shit when he finds out I died because I was too gay. Virgil thought dully.

“I apologize. I appear to have startled you.” The man commented.

“I…uhh…it’s… umm… well…”

The man raised an eyebrow to the gay mess. “Very eloquently put.”

“I… uhh… sorry… anxiety…” and you are too hot to be talking to me.

The man simply nodded. “I apologize again then. Do you require any assistance in lowering your adrenaline levels?”

What. “Ah, no, it’s alright… I’ll get over it.”

The man tilted his head looking over the scene of the poor man’s to-be death scene. “You appear to be searching for something. Might I inquire what you are searching for? I may be of some help in locating it.”

He really is trying to kill me; hot and nice? “Well… uh… a friend told me he… well, you’ll think it’s weird. I mean most people think I’m weird in general so that isn’t saying anything. It’s just not what most people would expect someone like me to be doing with their life, you know? Most people just don’t understand that it works and I enjoy it you know? But I can’t really blame them for thinking it’s weird.”

The man watched as Virgil began to spiral before kneeling and telling him to follow his breathing. He had never had to deal with what the other was undergoing, but he did enjoy research and anxiety was such a common thing among the human population that it was just a useful thing to understand. For that, he was glad as he helped the man control his breathing.

“Now, let’s try this again, without the down-spiral.” He commented to the purple-haired man. “Would you like me to help you find whatever it is you are looking for? If so, what would it be?”

“Well, my friend told me that there was a rare plant up here. Something with purple flowers.” Virgil answered awkwardly. “I’m a botanist who studies plants and from his description of it, it sounds to be an endangered plant.”

The man pursed his lips, thinking. Of course, he knew exactly which plant the human was speaking about, it was only a few feet from his hand. Yet, did he trust this random human not to harm one of the few of its species? Humans usually aren’t interested in plants just for the plants. Yet, this one did not appear to be lying to him. He’d heard of these botanists before, but this was his first meeting with one.

“Pardon this question, as I am not fully aware of what botanists do. What do you plan to do with it, if it is what you think it to be?”

“Oh… umm… well, first I tend to study new plants in their native environment. If it is the one I believe it to be, I would begin a process with the government to bring the specimen back to my greenhouse for conservation efforts where I can control threats, maintain a healthy environment, and breed it with other specimens. Botanists study plants and most attempt to promote their health.”

“So if you find this plant, it’ll be safe?”

“Great, you’re hot, kind, and care for plants,” Virgil muttered, to which the other man decided to pretend he did not hear, though he couldn’t stop the tint to his cheeks. “Yes, I do my best to ensure the safety and survival.”

The man still looked uncertain, and Virgil realized just how much this man seemed to care about the plant they were discussing. He thought before moving over to his bag to pull out his gloves. The man watched, now curious as to what the human was doing as Virgil moved towards a small bunch of mushrooms.

“Here, I can show you what it is I do,” Virgil said, with a fake confidence that he only had in his knowledge.

The other considered this before moving over. He glanced at the mushrooms, knowing exactly what type they were before looking at the human. Virgil nodded as he carefully maneuvered the fungi, double-checking what he had observed earlier.

“There are roughly four kinds of fungi here. These two are an invasive species that appear to be losing the battle for water, so they are less interesting for this partial study. My assumption is that a bird or another animal accidentally transported these here from their normal habitats. They are not remotely endangered, so I am content to let nature do what it will with them. These salmon pink ones are called marasius oreades or the Scotch bonnet. They are relatively safe and edible. These are traditionally arranged in a large circle and are the most commonly associated mushroom with the fairy circle folklore. On the other hand, these ones here are clitocybe rivulosa, or fool’s funnel, which are poisonous due to having deadly levels of muscarine.”

The other man sat there listening as Virgil went on one of his normal plant tangents, finding it easy to do so with the curious but intent look in the other’s eyes. Oh yes, Remy is going to lose it when he finds out later. Virgil found himself talking about the various mushrooms, one plant he really hasn’t been interested in before, while the man beside him began to ask different questions.

Neither was aware of the sun slowly setting until it became a bit too dark. If there’d been more light, the other would have noticed the blush on each cheek, but they pretended not to feel the flames on their faces.

“I apologize for taking so much of your time. I had intended to show you the plant I believe you to be looking for, but I became enthralled in your knowledge.” The man commented.

Stop being a useless gay mess, Virgil! “No, no. I should be the one apologizing. You probably weren’t looking for a long lecture on plants, much less on mushrooms of all things.”

“While I admit that it was not what I had intended on doing today, it was pleasurable listening to your knowledge.” The man paused before deciding on something. “I can tell you that if you come back before sunrise, you will be able to find the plant easily. One of my partners will probably be here as well if you would like to meet him. I am sure he will be thrilled to meet you… uh?”

“Oh… sorry. You can just call me Anx, he/him pronouns. Everyone does.” Virgil answered.

There is no way this human already knows who he was dealing with… was there? “Well, people refer to me as Logic, though my partners call me Lo.”

“Do you have a preference?”

The man looked over the purple-haired man. “You can call me Lo if you wish.”

“And do you have pronoun preferences? I forgot to ask earlier.”

“I am not particular. He/him work well enough.”

“Well, Lo. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Virgil said, with a small smile.

“Pleasure to meet your acquaintance as well, Anx.”

Virgil went to pick up his bag and turned back to ask if Lo wanted to walk back to town with him. Yet, the man was gone, without a sound to announce his departure. That took Virgil aback, but he did basically say goodbye, so maybe the other took it as his queue to leave. Oh well. Virgil pulled out his phone and saw that he had over two hundred messages, meaning Remy and Dee had really gotten into their fight.

Next Chapter

[purplesurveys]

867

All About the Letter U

Animals I Like: I don’t know if I have a favorite U animal... Foods I Like: ...and I kinda feel bad because I’m listing some U animals in the food question instead, oops. I like uni (sea urchin), unagi (freshwater eel), udon, and ube as long as it’s in cheesecake. I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Ushers in church. It’s not a legit job, but it’s all I got heh. I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Utah, Uzbekistan, and Utrecht. Sometimes I Feel: Unhappy, useless, uneasy.

Music I Listen To: Up Dharma Down, Unique Salonga. Movies I’ve Seen: Under the Skin, Unfriended. I’ve also seen the first few minutes of Up, but surprisingly I didn’t find the movie appealing and never finished it. Maybe I need a rewatch because mine is a very unpopular opinion and I’m tired of people shaming me for switching off the TV while Up is on, lol. Names I Like: Una, Uma.

And now, onto the random questions! 1. What time do you get up in the morning? These days I get up at 7, 7:30ish because the pup will start whining by then. I definitely slept in a lot more during the early weeks of the lockdown. 2. Have you ever wanted to learn how to play the ukelele? Oh man all the cool girls played ukulele in high school so it was definitely a fad that I eyed. I was quick to realize that I wasn’t gonna be any talented in any kind of music, so in the end I preferred to watch and listen to my friends play. 3. Have you ever ridden a unicycle? I haven’t but that’s also because I’ve never seen one. My reckless side will definitely get on it and try to pedal, even if I don’t even know how to ride a bicycle to begin with. 4. Do you like unicorns? There was a brief phase when I found them cute, as most teenagers do. I even went to a unicorn-themed café at some point. But the phase faded quickly. 5. Do you live in an urban area? I don’t even know how to describe it. My village is situated on a highway, and our position in that highway is right smack in the middle of the urban and rural area. If you go to the left you’re headed for Manila, and if you turn right you’re on your way to the province, and I honestly find it convenient haha. 6. What makes you unhappy? Encountering things that trigger me, being yelled at, being hungry, if a dog doesn’t like me, low grades. Lots of things make me sad but these are the first things my head reminded me of.   7. Have you ever played ultimate frisbee? I’ve played with friends for fun, but I’ve never joined a legitimate game. We just get in a circle and do throwing and catching.

8. Would you ever want to travel into the unknown? If I can be assured that I won’t be hurt then sure. 9. Do you work for a union? No. 10. What would happen if you saw a UFO? Probably dismiss it as a weather balloon or something. I’d still take a video though because weather balloon or UFO, it’s still an unusual sight. 11. When does your hair look the most unruly? When it’s humid it gets very frizzy. 12. Do you/did you stand up for others when they got called “ugly”? I’ve never seen anyone be called ugly to their face, but I would definitely call the bully out. Especially at the age we’re in now. Not that it’s any less important when we were kids, but it’d just be so childish if I hear someone calling another person ugly at 22??? 13. Were/Are you required to wear uniforms in school? Yes. White blouse, plaid necktie and skirt, white socks and leather shoes, and only red, white, or black hair accessories every weekday from 2002 to 2016. 14. Do you have a name that is unisex? It is actually :) I thought it was a curse as a kid because of how much I got bullied, but I warmed up to it as I got older.  15. How often do your sneakers come untied? I’d say once or twice a week. 16. Which types of utensils are in your kitchen right now? Off the top of my head... large and small spoons, large and small forks, knives of varying sizes, spatulas, cake server, rice spoon, tongs, cheese grater, chopsticks, measuring cups, and there’s a bunch more I’ve never used but I see regularly because my chef of a dad would use those too. 17. How many uncles do you have? Too many. Where I live, any older guy that you have some sort of a relationship with counts as your uncle, or tito.

18. Do you live in the United States? Nope. Have tons of relatives who do, though. I sometimes feel like we have more family in the States than we do here, in our actual native country lol. 19. How long can you hold your breath underwater? I haven’t counted in a while but I usually win among my cousins and friends when we played it as kids. 20. Do you wear the same pair of underwear more than one day in a row? I don’t think so. I always change every day. 21. When was the last time you were under the influence of anything? Around two weeks ago when I downed a whole bottle of strawberry soju in like half an hour because I was sad. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[babywarg]

A drpepperony proposal/wedding please? im thinking if you go with the wedding that would be more symbolic since u legally can't have 3 but it would be cute to see them exchanging their own vows and ring/other jewelry privately with their closest friends and family and 'making it official' ofc stephen would get overwhelmed by the love from his partners and his new family 💖

Hi, anon! I’m sorry this didn’t turn out to be a traditional serious “official” ceremony, with friends and family and vows, etc…but I still hope you enjoy reading!

I have no idea how to describe wedding dresses, feel free to come up with your own design 😆 Feel free to think up the music they used for the dance, too, because otherwise the whole montage plays out in my head to this song.

[obnoxious note, 8/24/2019: NOT ACCEPTING NEW PROMPTS AT THE MOMENT. Thank you for understanding 💕]

Let’s Get Married

Tony had wanted to go to Vegas.

Pepper had no specific ideas, but made it clear she thought Vegas was a shitty idea.

As the two of them argued, Stephen realized it was best that he decide for the three of them. But when they were all relatively mellow and fuzzy from what Tony simply called “alien juice,” Stephen included, getting one’s thoughts together wasn’t easy.

(Tony’s fault: he’d been wanting to celebrate their third year of being together as a trio. “Three’s our lucky number, right?” And he really, really wanted to do it with alcohol.

(Stephen, being the doctor, and Pepper, being the most sensible of them all, put their feet down and told him alcohol was off the table.

(Still, Tony insisted on having something. So it was up to Stephen to get creative. And bum some “alien juice” off an absolutely-legal-you-can’t-prove-it’s-not apothecary he met in another dimension.

(It was a liquid that mimicked the effects of alcohol - including, at times, memory loss the morning after - but did not damage the human liver or caused hangovers.

(Stephen had to get creative more than once that night, it seemed...)

Fortunately, one side effect of the liquid they’d imbibed was a freer mental state, so he was able to access the necessary information from his mind palace without trouble.

There was a dimension where there were no fauna at all - only flora, of different hues and shapes.

Some of the plant life took on the form and behaviors of animals; there would be butterflies made of translucent leaves. Birds made of tiny flowerheads that fluttered in the perpetual breeze.

And there was color. So much color. It was always daytime in that dimension, and soft light always shone, casting rainbows as shadows and making everything shimmer.

There was a large cavern the size of a concert hall. Instead of a roof, what it had was a long, wide tunnel opening up to ground level, lined with vines and a magnificent, pleasantly fragrant assortment of living flowers.

For a while now, Stephen had been planning to take Pepper and Tony there.

It was the perfect place for a wedding.

***

“Oh, Stephen,” Pepper gasped, “this is beautiful.”

While Pepper was busy taking in the new environment, Tony glared at his boyfriend. “And you never took us here before why?”

“I was saving it,” Stephen huffed. “For a special occasion or something, Iunno.” He was still rather tipsy. Though, he liked to tell himself, not as tipsy as the other two.

“This occasion is plenty special, isn’t it?” Tony argued. “So can you, like…magic up some nice clothes for us? I suddenly feel a little underdressed, with my jeans and my Hello Kitty shirt.”

They were a bit underdressed, Stephen acknowledged. They were all in casual wear, for a simple night out on the town, armed with a formidable supply of “alien juice” and the intent to have fun.

Getting married was a spur of the moment thing. And they were laughing as they all agreed to it, so Stephen wasn’t all that sure they were serious.

But damned if he wasn’t going to milk this moment for all it had.

“Okay, okay.” He cleared his throat. Made a few hand motions that he knew to be a bit overdramatic…

And in the blink of an eye, Tony was in a posh, classic tuxedo. So was Stephen.

The latter’s outfit was just a little flashier, with the Cloak of Levitation hanging down the back of his shoulders, disguised as a red cape (it had been disguised as a red scarf earlier that evening. Stylish either way).

But Pepper…Pepper was in something that made her look like a dream.

It was a proper white wedding dress, sans the traditional veil. It seemed to be made of diamonds and lace, but on closer inspection was made of satin petals and frozen dew: a perfect blend with the delicate scenery.

Stephen was fascinated. He hadn’t had a specific kind of dress in mind, but he figured his altered mental state had something to do with how it turned out.

That is, some part of him must have always wanted to see Pepper dressed like this.

Pepper could hardly believe it, herself. She turned this way and that, admiring how smoothly the dress flowed around and against her.

“Look at this!” she cried, when she’d caught her breath. “I’m fricking gorgeous!”

“Yes, you fricking are,” Tony immediately agreed, stepping up to her and taking her by the hand.

Beaming, she held out her other hand to Stephen, who took it without hesitation.

“So, we getting married now?” she asked.

Stephen tipsily stammered, “I forgot to ask what demoni–dinom–dinimation–”

“The fastest,” Tony snapped. “C’mon, can’t keep the nuptial bed waiting!”

Stephen had to laugh at that first. Then he took Tony’s hand so the three of them formed a circle.

He closed his eyes. Their hands started to glow. When he opened his eyes again the glow disappeared, and there were simple gold bands on their left ring fingers.

Tony and Pepper held their hands up to the light, marveling at how the low light struck off the magic metal and seemed to make it glow.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Tony exclaimed. He turned to Stephen, then to Pepper. “I do, I do, now we’re married, let’s go home.”

“Wait,” Pepper interrupted. “Can’t we stay here just a little bit longer? I really like this place.”

“We should at least stick around for a bridal dance,” Stephen suggested. “If you guys are up for that.”

Tony grinned. He really wasn’t as eager to go home as he had been saying, and Stephen could tell the romantic setting was getting under his skin, too.

“Fine,” he declared, “one dance. Each. Cue the Iron Maiden, if you please.”

Stephen grunted. Indeed. He had other music in mind.

From nowhere, the sound of string instruments drifted in, echoed softly in the cavern. It seemed to disturb some of the butterflies and birds that nested in the vines; they fluttered about listlessly.

Tony laid his hands on Pepper’s waist. Pepper threw her arms around his neck.

And they danced.

So lost in each other’s eyes they were, that they didn’t notice until several steps in: they had been dancing upwards.

Rising up the tunnel that ended in a majestic view of the sapphire sky.

Soon, buoyed up by the Cloak, Stephen joined them in the air, a self-satisfied twinkle in his eyes. Tony gently broke away from Pepper and grabbed him by the waist, pulled him close.

“My beautiful madman,” he said softly.

They managed to waltz a few steps, then Tony leaned up for a kiss, and Stephen promptly melted into it.

After a while he felt Pepper’s hands on his own, where they lay on Tony’s shoulders. At this signal, Tony pulled away, and Stephen drifted into Pepper’s arms.

They laughed, they fell into thoughtful silences, they kissed, they changed partners, they somehow managed to find a way to dance together, all three at once, and they kissed even more. Song after song after song played, with the flowers they were surrounded with swaying in the endless wind, and sunlight making everything around them shine.

***

Floating in a glimmering cavern, holding both his loved ones close, Stephen had never been more in love than he was then.

This whole affair might have been done on a whim. For the rush. For the pure joy of living in the moment.

The after-effects of the “alien juice” were harmless, but upredictable. In the morning, one or two or all three of them might wake up in their shared bed wondering why they had rings on, what the heck happened the night prior.

But Stephen didn’t care. And he was quite sure Tony and Pepper didn’t, either. They would keep the rings. Cherish whatever memories would remain of the evening.

And maybe someday, they would come back to this place, with friends and family to witness a more formal event.

This was, as far as Stephen was concerned, a long time coming…

And definitely a much better idea than Vegas.

[heavenlydrarry]

No Regrets

Rating: T

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Genre: Post-Eighth Year

Summary: Harry is forced to go out for drinks, Draco is d.r.u.n.k.

A/N: this is for @tossermalfoy for our fic exchange! i loved all your prompts so much and this probably sucks ass but i tried my best and i really hope u like it! its the second prompt i started and then didnt have time to finish it so its kinda rushed and all but idk

Other authors: @pixiemalfoy @rosadearest @ssoftdrarry @hpotterlocked @okaypottah

“Hermione, you ask every month and I say no every month, what makes you think that this time will be different?” Harry was annoyed. Hermione had come over, like she did on the last Friday of the month, and was trying to convince Harry to go with them, her and Ron, to the monthly meet-up that their year at Hogwarts had. It had started a couple of months after eighth year, someone had proposed the idea, a Hufflepuff probably, and the rest of them had agreed that it was a great idea. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to see his friends, he did. He loved hanging out with Ron, Hermione and Neville, but he hated large groups, they had started to make him uncomfortable.

Harry knew that Hermione worried for him. After finishing their eighth year at Hogwarts, Harry had completely closed himself off to everyone apart from the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville and Teddy. He had become kind of a hermit, spending his days at home, sending out Kreacher to do his shopping so that he wouldn’t have to leave the house and barely meeting anyone. He knew that Hermione just wanted to see him happy and that she was trying her best to make him.

“Alright! This is the last time I’ll ask you, though! Just come out tonight! If you don’t like it or aren’t having fun, you can leave and I won’t bother you about coming out with the group ever again!” Hermione proposed, hoping that she was able to convince him this time.

The idea of Hermione not pestering him ever again after that night appealed to Harry. He slowly and thoughtfully nodded, causing Hermione to let out a loud “Whoop!” and dance around him in a circle.

“Let’s a move on, then!” Hermione grinned excitedly, pushing Harry towards his bedroom so that he could get dressed and they could finally leave.

The two of them left Harry’s house and walked into an alley to apparate to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was quite anxious, he hadn’t seen most of his classmates in almost a year and he was worried about their reactions towards him. As he walked into the Leaky, he realised though, that he had had no reason to be anxious. Seamus and Dean were the first to see him and they immediately pulled Harry into a three-way hug, telling him how much they were glad to see him again. Harry’s heart warmed, glad that his friends weren’t angry with him or anything. Dean led them over to a large table around the back end of the pub, where everyone else was sat.

Harry took a look around, taking in the familiar faces. He saw almost all of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors from his year and quite a few Ravenclaws too. What surprised him though, was seeing a relatively large group of Slytherins as well. Parkinson, Nott, Goyle, Zabini and Greengrass were all there, Malfoy’s old gang, but Harry hadn’t spotted Malfoy yet. Maybe he hadn’t come, thought Harry to himself. He was slightly surprised by the pang in his heart when he realised that he wouldn’t be seeing Malfoy that night. There wasn’t any animosity between him and the Slytherins anymore. Eighth year hadn’t made them friends, but they weren’t strangers either, acquaintances if he had to put a term to it. They had apologised to him and he to them. And after that, the occasional nod in the hallways had been the extent of their interactions.

He took a seat at one end of the large table, on the far end, away from the Slytherins and most of the other people. His end was sparsely occupied and that pleased Harry. At least he could have a little space for himself.

“So glad you came, mate!” Harry’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when he felt a hard thump on his back. Harry recognised the rambunctious voice of his best friend, who only seconds later appeared in his line of view, two mugs of beer and two shots of Firewhiskey floating behind him.

Harry and Ron drank those shots and followed it by the beer. The coolness of the beer soothing the slight burning feeling left behind by the Firewhiskey. A slow but steady stream of beer into his system had given Harry a slight buzz, and he was now actually glad that he had come.

“Hi Harry! It’s good to see you,” Parvati and Padma took seats opposite him, their backs facing the entrance to the pub, and grinned widely.

“You too, girls!” Harry smiled back, clinking his beer mug with theirs. “You know, I still cannot tell the two of you apart!” He laughed.

“We shared a common room for eight years, Harry!” Parvati said playfully. Harry only knew it was Parvati because of her statement.

“I have a small mole here, and Parvati doesn’t,” Padma smiled at him, pointing to a spot near her lip. Harry nodded slightly absentmindedly, his eye focused on the door behind the girls, hoping to catch even a small glimpse of the blond hair he had been looking for.

He was able to catch up with his old friends and they had all been ecstatic to see Harry again. He had also noticed that at some point during the night, Malfoy had shown up. He hadn’t seen much of the blond-haired, grey-eyed man much since he arrived, but then again, he hadn’t made an active effort to, either.

It had been a couple of hours since he had arrived at the pub and Harry was sitting alone at his end of the table again. His friends had all dispersed, talking to other people but he had wanted to stay exactly where he was. It was a good spot, he could people-watch, something he loved doing, and also still take part in the conversation if he wanted to.

“Well well, if it isn’t the infamous Harry Potter, sitting alone. Finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh,” an unmistakably familiar voice drawled from behind. Turning around and confirming his suspicions, he saw that Draco Malfoy was standing right behind, a little too close. So close, that Harry could even smell Firewhiskey on Malfoy’s breath.

“Not even going to answer, huh?” Malfoy said, coming slightly closer and almost closing the small distance between them. As Harry’s eyes search Malfoy’s, he could see that blonde was already drunk, not buzzed, but outright drunk. His eyes were hazy, his hair messy, as though he had run his hands through them almost a hundred times, and he was even swaying slightly from side to side. Not to mention the strong scent of alcohol on his breath.

“Hermione made me come here, wasn’t actually going to,” Harry shrugged, answering Malfoy’s first question. He got out if his chair and moved to help Malfoy into the chair next to him and off his unsteady feet. He had barely even touched the man, when Malfoy pushed his hands away and scrambled into the chair himself.

Once he was comfortably seated, Malfoy stared at Harry’s face and Harry stared back, neither of them uttering a word. At first, Harry watched those grey eyes, following every slight movement with his own. But then eyes travelled down Malfoy’s face, stopping for a split second at those thin, pink lips. Those lips looked extremely kissable to him, but even in his inebriated state, Harry knew that they were not friends and he definitely could not kiss him. They were civil to each other, but that was the extent of it. After what felt like minutes, actually only about 30 seconds, Malfoy broke eye contact, shaking his head a little and then looking down at his hands.

“How come you’re not an Auror? Would have thought what with you defeating the Dark Lord and all that you wouldn’t even have to do the training,” Malfoy had broken the silence, his words blunt and direct. Harry had always known him to be blunt, usually with insults, but he was surprised to hear the genuine tone in the voice.

Harry simply shrugged, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want to tell Malfoy that he was struggling with coming to terms with the end of the war and how thinking about becoming an Auror and constantly being in a similar situation scared him an awful lot. Malfoy would have probably laughed in his face, he thought.

“Someone isn’t too talkative tonight. Drunk already?” Malfoy asked and Harry grinned slightly.

“As if you’re one to talk! You are clearly drunk! And this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me, willingly!” Harry exclaimed, his grin widening as Malfoy’s expression transformed into one of shock.

“How dare you accuse me like that!” Malfoy spoke loudly, loud enough for their neighbours to turn their attention to the pair. Hermione had turned to look at them as well, and gave Harry a look, as though she was asking him if everything was alright. Harry smiled at her and nodded his head, silently telling her that everything was a-okay.

“Oh calm down, would you? We both know you are drunk,” Harry muttered. Proving his point, Malfoy reached out to stroke the side of Harry’s face with the back of his hand. Something he was sure sober Malfoy would never even think of doing.

Just then, a popular muggle song came on, a song with a fast beat that had everyone in the pub’s hips moving. Malfoy let out a loud whoop followed by an even louder “I LOVE THIS SONG!” He jumped out of his seat, grabbed Harry, effectively pulling him out of his seat and pushed their way through a crowd of people over an empty space Harry could only assume to be some kind of dance floor. Malfoy was moving his hips to the beat of the music as Harry just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“You’re not dancing!” Malfoy exclaimed offendedly. He grabbed onto Harry’s waist and started swinging them about, trying to get Harry to move with him to the music blaring around them. Harry tried moving with the beat, but all he could manage was an uncomfortable hip shake.

All of a sudden, Malfoy pulled him closer. So close, that Harry could feel his warm breath in his ear. He was about to pull away, but the two hands on his hips stopped him from moving too far.

“Let me teach you how to dance,” Malfoy whispered in his ear. His voice had gotten raspy and low, stirring up feelings in Harry. Unable to find his voice (he was he would have let out a squeak if he opened his mouth), Harry simply nodded.

Malfoy swayed with him to the beat, and slowly, Harry was even getting the hang of it. But then, out of nowhere, he turned around so that he was now facing away from Harry, but his backside was firmly pressed into Harry’s front. And although Harry liked, he liked it very much, his brain reminded him that this was not something sober Malfoy would have done. So very gently, as to not offend him, Harry pushed him away and grabbed his shoulder, turning him around so that they were face to face once again. Now, he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but also hadn’t wanted Malfoy to feel the bulge forming in his pants, in case Malfoy remembered everything the next day and was utterly disgusted with him.

“You’re drunk!” Harry yelled over the loud music. “I’ll bring you home, let’s go!” Harry started to steer Malfoy away from the centre and towards where their friends and classmates were.

Malfoy was adamant, though. It was clear to Harry, that Malfoy didn’t want to leave but after couple of minutes, he gave in. Malfoy had only agreed to leave if Harry walked, or side-along apparated, him home. He had even pouted a lot, to Harry’s amusement, before coming to this agreement.

Harry bid Hermione and Ron goodbye, both of who only gave him smirks in return. His two best friends knew him better than he knew himself and they had probably already figured out whatever he was feeling currently for Malfoy. But that was the least of his concerns, at the moment. Looking around, Harry saw that Malfoy had managed to convince Zabini and Nott to give him one last shot of Firewhiskey and now he wasn’t just swaying, but literally stumbling over air and his own two feet. Eventually, Malfoy found his way back to Harry, who put his arm around the taller boy’s waist and guided him out the door.

They walked silently for a couple of minutes, Malfoy stumbling along and Harry trying to keep their balance. It wasn’t easy, considering that he himself wasn’t sober enough to walk straight, much less guide someone else. They finally got to an alley to apparate from, when Harry realised that he didn’t know where Malfoy lived. Sure, there was the Manor, but Harry wasn’t sure if Malfoy was still living there or not.

“Hey, Malfoy! Where am I appara-” Harry started to say, but was cut off by Malfoy pushing him onto a wall and pressing himself up against Harry.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he whispered raspily in Harry’s ear, and before Harry could even ask what, Malfoy was suddenly kissing him.

Harry froze for a couple of seconds, he wasn’t entirely sure on what to do. Should he push Malfoy away, he was after all drunk and probably didn’t know what he was doing? Or should he just give in and let the kiss continue, because he knew that he wanted this feeling to never stop. It was a feeling of elation and wonder and astonishment that had gone through Harry the moment he had felt those lips, and his heart wanted to feel nothing more that just those feelings over and over again. His common sense took over, though. This was Malfoy, and he was drunk, and Harry was extremely confused. So he pushed Malfoy away, gently, not enough to hurt his feelings, because he had come to realise, in the duration on this past night, that Harry liked being around Malfoy and he definitely wanted to continue doing that.

“Let’s get you sober,” Harry said, and before Malfoy could say anything, Harry has apparated the two of them back to his house. He guided Malfoy into a chair, before summoning two sobering potions. Handing one to Malfoy, he silently knocked back his sobering potion and immediately felt a whole lot better. He watched Malfoy carefully, and saw the immediate difference in Malfoy after the potion had been taken. Malfoy had looked around the room in surprise, not recognising where he was until he saw Harry.

“Thank you,” he whispered softly and Harry just nodded. “So, did I do something utterly embarrassing?” he asked and Harry grinned. Harry started to tell him about the dance floor and eventually about the kiss in the alley as well.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts, you know,” Harry smirked and Malfoy’s cheeks went a bright pink colour. But before he knew it, Malfoy had risen up and within one quick stride, was standing in front of Harry.

“Perhaps I’d like to kiss you again, but this time with your permission,” he said, looking Harry deeply in the eye. And Harry wanted to kiss him again as well, so he simply nodded.

This time, the kiss started out slower and more cautious than the other one. But as they continued kissing, they got more and more confident, and so did the kiss. Malfoy had pushed Harry into an armchair and was straddling Harry, leaning into him and kissing him with all his might and heart. They pulled back after a couple of minutes of kissing, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads against each other and their breaths mixing in the small space between them.

“No regrets?” Harry whispered, not wanting to break the moment.

“No regrets,” Malfoy replied.

[squirrelly831]

Caught in Public [Minseok, Junmyeon, and Yixing]

You can read this as part of the daddy!au series or a stand alone~~ Minseok’s is angst-ish. 

UPDATE: Minseok’s wife is Maisie. Though it is not shown here, Alessia is no longer an oc

Enjoy~

Minseok

Alessia and Minseok had just started dating. Of course, it was a secret because Minseok was in EXO which was a huge group around the world. The other reason was because Alessia the hate she would receive for not being full Korean as well as for even dating someone like him. It hadn’t been hard to plan their dates and into their seventh month, neither of them expected it to blow up in their face.

Alessia was on her way to work when she got a call from her boss that told her it wasn’t safe for her to come into work. He told her not to come in until everything died down. She didn’t understand what was going on, but she u-turned and headed back to her apartment so she could figure out what was going on.

“Yah! Alessia! WHORE!” She spun when she heard her name and two angry teen girls stormed up to her. “Who the fuck do you think you are dating our oppa?” One cursed before she spit at her and the other shoved her against the wall behind her. “This is your warning. Stay. Away. From. Minseok-oppa!” The girl stormed off with her friend close behind.

Alessia was shaking, but her legs carried her back to her apartment. Once inside her place, she looked up Minseok online and found pictures of them from when they were in Japan. They had been so careful and made sure no one followed, but apparently it was taken from a fan.

The harassment grew. Alessia felt overwhelmed. Minseok knew about some of the things that were happening like the malicious comments and threats and he worked behind the scenes to try to end it. However, he didn’t know about the sasaengs who were making Alessia’s life a living hell for the next week and a half. She was forced to use her vacation and sick days until the fans stopped showing up at her work as it endangered the kids at the school. Going to the grocery store was nearly impossible without being chased off, shoved, or threatened. She had her friends from work bring her groceries periodically. It was all ridiculous.

She ignored Minseok’s calls and texts for days and unable to take it much longer, he decided to pay her a visit. However, when Alessia answered the door, he was filled with worry. She had tear stains on her cheeks, her eyes were swollen and red, and she had large bags under her eyes. “What happened?”

“Minseok…?” She looked at him for a split second, but then casted her gaze to the ground, “I’m sorry… We’re done.”

“What? Why? What happened?” Minseok reached out for her, but she jerked back.

Tears fell down her cheeks once more, “Please” her voice was weak. “I just want my life back… I’m sorry.” She shut the door while he was stunned in place.

Making it back to the dorms, he was approached by Junmyeon who showed him news about how the sasaengs were attacking Alessia in public. Minseok’s legs gave out as he sat on the sofa with his head in hands, “I can’t lose her… How can I save us?” His voice broke. Yes, it had only been seven months, but she made him happy. Truly happy. He couldn’t lose her.

Jongdae sat beside him and patted his back and Junmyeon sat across from him in thought. “Maybe focus on the sasaengs first. Threaten to press charges on them” Jongdae suggested.

“That’s a good idea. Alessia more than likely won’t be willing to talk to you while all this chaos is going on” Junmyeon tapped his chin. “We can talk to the company and the police station to see what can be done. Once it all dies down maybe you can try to meet up with Alessia and fix everything.”

Junmyeon

Jumyeon insisted on taking Jennifer back home after their date not wanting her to go home alone. The two held hands under the cold night sky as they talked about their upcoming work.

Jennifer shivered as a breeze passed her and Junmyeon shrugged off his jacket. “I didn’t think it would get this cold” he chuckled as he placed his jacket over her shoulders. He wore a sweater and was relatively warm compared to Jennifer who had a sweater, but wore a skirt. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as his hand circled her waist as they walked.

“Thanks… I should have checked the weather. I would have worn pants or something.” She looked up at him as the reached her apartment, “Are you staying the night?”

“If you’ll have me” he smiled when he saw her nod. “Then I would love to stay the night and wake up beside you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hand pressed on her against the brick wall outside her complex. They shared a heated kiss before he broke it. “We should get inside” his voice was deep and his eyes were swimming in lust “Otherwise I may just take you here.” Jennifer laughed as she pulled him inside her complex unaware of the fan who took a picture of the two of them in each others arms.

The next morning, Junmyeon woke to multiple texts and calls from his members and the company telling them that pictures were released. Junmyeon looked to see what they were talking about and he silently cursed as he ran his hand through his hair. He looked over at his sleeping girlfriend before he got out of bed and called the company to find out the next steps. Junmyeon wasn’t going to deny the relationship nor was he going to break up with her, but he also wasn’t going to let people attack her.

After discussing it with the company, they decided to make a public statement confirming the relationship as well as mention they would press charges on anyone who send malicious messages concerning the couple.

Yixing

Yìng Yuè and Yixing had conflicting schedules after she got a job as a software developer in a major company. Before her job, they would meet at least four to five days a week if Yixing wasn’t extremely busy with his music and shows he would host and judge on. Now, they were lucky to meet up two times a week. It was a lot like a long distance relationship. They lived in the same city, but could only really communicate via phone calls and text.

That was until the weekend, as they were both off, Yixing suggested to go on a date and Yìng Yuè immediately said yes. She missed him just as much as he missed her. They understood they were both working hard to succeed in life, but they also knew their relationship needed attention to.

That Saturday, they went out and did some shopping before grabbing some dinner. It was a great night and after taking the bags to Yixing’s apartment, the two went out for an evening stroll to catch up with everything they had yet to talk about.

Yixing had been nervous throughout the day and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yìng Yuè. She had feared for the worse when he suddenly jerked her hand to stop her from walking. She stared at him as he tried to work up the courage to say what was on his mind. “I need to ask you about something…”

Yìng Yuè felt her heart drop, “Okay?” She took in a breath as she waited.

“We’ve been together for three and a half years and you know I love you. I want to share my entire world with you–including my public life.”

Yìng Yuè’s eyes widened. Not just because her fear that he was going to break it off was wrong, but that he wanted to go public. “Wait–what? Do you think that’s a good idea? Have you seen the backlash your member in Seoul got for dating?”

Yixing tightened his grip on her hand, “And Chanyeol is handling the situation. We may get some backlash, but I don’t want to keep you and our relationship a secret anymore.” He kissed the back of her hand, “I want the world to know that I found the love of my life.” He pushed her hair behind her ear, “I don’t want to hide you.”

Yìng Yuè chewed on her bottom lip, “Can I have some time to think about it, Yixing? It’s a pretty big deal.”

He nodded as he took her into his arms. He noticed a man with a camera and his eyes narrowed. Yixing tried to give a smile as he moved his hand to block the man’s view of Yìng Yuè’s face. “Yea, I’ll let you think on it of course. Could you go get us something to drink?” He said suddenly and pulled out his card. Yìng Yuè headed off to the nearest cafe and Yixing made his way to the camera man. “Let’s bargain, instead of posting those pictures, how about I set up an interview about my relationship?” Yixing compromised with the camera who took her photo. He waited for the camera man to delete the picture before he gave him his business card. Yixing wouldn’t set the interview until Yìng Yuè said it was okay to go public.

Part II || Part III

Credit to gif owners

Written & revamped by Squirrelly831

♕ REQUEST

☮ EXO MASTERLIST

∞ ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

[peraltasames]

christmas eve will find me where the love light gleams

Nochebuena, the night before Christmas, has always had a special place in Amy Santiago's heart.

read on ao3

1992

December 24th

Outside a big white house in a small suburban community in New Jersey, snow is falling peacefully on the ground and creating a scene that looks like something out of a painting. There are two sensible, fuel-efficient cars in the garage and one cheap pickup truck recently purchased by the eldest Santiago boy parked haphazardly in the driveway. At eight o’clock that evening, the front door was locked until the following morning when dozens of extended relatives will pile into the home, three generations of family members spending the better part of twenty-four hours together.

Inside, the scene is less calm - an eight year-old Amy Santiago is excitedly begging her father to tell her and her seven brothers another story, some of whom are arguably too old for story time but begrudgingly sitting around the fireplace with the rest of their family.

“It’s almost time for bed, mi amor,” Victor tells Amy firmly, yet with ever-present kindness in his eyes.

“Please, Dad. It’s nochebuena!” Amy pleads, her cozy plaid pajamas sliding against the hardwood floor as she shifts closer to her father on her knees, hands clasped together.

After a shared look with his wife, Victor sighs and admits defeat - he’s incredibly partial when it comes to the little girl before him, his one and only daughter.

“Oh my god, can I go call Jen now?” Nic exasperatedly asks his parents, throwing his head back in annoyance when Camila shakes her head. “Mom, I’m seventeen.”

“You have to wait until story time is over and we put cookies out for Santa, those are the rules,” Amy demands, crossing her arms and looking up at her older brother.

Nic opens his mouth to say something, but a pointed glare from Victor stops him before any sound can come out. Knowing the argument is already lost, he settles back into his chair with a small sigh.

With the satisfaction that she’s gotten her way, Amy curls up next to her mother and waits eagerly for her father to begin one of the many Cuban fables and fairytales that she loves so much. The one he tells tonight is new to her, a story about a beautiful girl and a handsome prince that ends, as many of the stories do, with happily ever after.

“Mama?” she mumbles sleepily as she’s being tucked into bed a few minutes later, eyes already closed. “Am I gonna find my prince one day?”

Camila smiles, her fingers combing through her daughter’s soft, dark curls.

“Of course, honey,” she promises, earning a content smile from Amy. “He just might not be exactly the type of prince you’re expecting. Your father certainly wasn’t royalty, but he’s always been my true love.”

“So I should marry a police officer like daddy?”

Camila laughs, shaking her head. “Not necessarily, my love. What’s important is that he treats you with respect and makes you happier than anything in the world.”

“Happier than cookies? And books?” Her mother nods. “Even happier than nochebuena?”

“Even happier than that.”

At eight years old, Amy can’t quite grasp the concept of true respect or someone being “the one”, but she promises herself that she’ll wait for a prince that makes her feel as full of joy and peace as she does while falling asleep in her cozy bed, dreaming of presents and sweets and happiness.

-

2014

December 24th

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Amy’s snapped out of her thoughts the moment her brother begins his sentence, looking up from her phone for the first time since she sat down on the couch opposite the tree a few minutes ago.

Her parents are in the kitchen preparing food for tomorrow’s celebrations, her brothers and their wives and children dispersed through every room of the house, occupying nearly all the space the six-bedroom home has to offer.

She reaches out to accept the large mug of Cuban hot chocolate. Her older brothers let her in on the magical secret ingredient - their father’s expensive, 100-proof rum - around her sixteenth Christmas Eve.

“Thanks, Alec,” she mumbles, taking a long, very much needed sip of the warm beverage in her hands.

Her brother plops down next to her, folding his arms behind his head. “Are you bummed about the breakup with Freddy?”

Amy narrows her eyes. “It’s Teddy, but...no.”

Frankly, she should probably have been a little upset about the end of an eight month relationship, but the absence of Teddy Wells in her life is far from the greatest worry whirling through her troubled mind.

“Then what’s got ya down, sis? You love nochebuena.”

She knows she hasn’t been herself tonight, and she saw the worry in her mother’s eyes when she didn’t want a second helping of pork and the exchanged glances between her brothers when the smiles while playing with her nieces and nephews didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s, um...a different guy, actually.”

She realizes the moment she’s said it that she’s never actually talked to anyone about Jake before. She’s always been dating Teddy and too consumed by guilt to admit her feelings for another person. Even Jake (and Teddy and Sophia, unfortunately) currently believes her feelings for him to be a thing of the past, and is blissfully ignorant of the fact that said feelings are eating her alive at any given moment of every single day since he told her he liked her and left for a six-month undercover mission.

“Who is it?” Alec raises an eyebrow, looking at her intently.

She braces herself for the reaction as she says, quietly and a little embarrassed: “Jake Peralta.”

His mouth hangs open, eyes widening a little as he processes this revelation.

“Your coworker, Jake Peralta? Like, the one that eats candy for breakfast and has only read fifteen books in his entire life?”

Amy laughs humourlessly and takes another gulp of hot chocolate, the rum burning her throat. “That’s the one.”

She doesn’t know when the innocent crush on her partner spiralled into a full-blown obsession, prohibiting her from successfully dating anyone else, but she despises that he’s somehow able to ruin her night even when she’s in another state. Although, technically he didn’t ruin her night - she blames that on the unfairly adorable picture Sophia just posted of the two of them skating at Rockefeller Centre.

“So, what’s his deal, married or gay? Because there’s no way any sane man would pass up my little sister.”

“Neither,” Amy answers, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “But he has a girlfriend. She’s beautiful and smart and…I missed my shot with him. It’s my fault.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Maybe they’ll break up.”

Amy doesn’t reply, staring down at her mug. She refuses to spend any more time praying that her friend’s happy relationship will come to an end just in case she’s maybe able to work up the courage to tell him how she feels.

Alec shifts a little closer to her and places his hand on her arm. His deep brown eyes - the same shade as hers - are wide with unexpected sincerity.

“Look, I don’t know much about this guy, but I know that you never pass up seconds of mom’s cooking. Like, not even when Ryan broke up with you. Not even when you lost the sixth grade spelling bee to Elizabeth Beeker.”

“Any idiot could’ve gotten prospicience, it’s hardly a winning word-“

“Ames, trying to make a point here,” Alec cuts off a ramble that likely would’ve lasted an hour - Elizabeth Beeker really was a bitch - and resumes his serious expression. “If you really like Jake, don’t miss your shot next time. If you get the chance, just tell him.”

The possibility of telling Jake, which could lead to the even more frightening possibility of dating Jake and falling in love with Jake, is just about the scariest thing she can imagine. In all her years of police work, all the boys she’s admitted her feelings for, all the chances she’s taken - this is by far the greatest risk (and, she supposes, the greatest potential reward).

Her phone buzzes with a text just before she can brush off the conversation to go attempt to help her mother in the kitchen and inevitably get turned away.

Jake Peralta

hey ames, happy notchabueno (def butchered that sry) hope ur having fun with the fam. see u back at work on monday :)

“Is that him?” Alec inquires, raising an eyebrow.

Amy nods sheepishly, her eyes lingering on the display picture he set of himself making a goofy face.

“I bet he doesn’t text all his coworkers on Christmas Eve.”

She doesn’t let herself dwell on her brother’s (probably true) statement, simply shutting her phone off for the remainder of the night and hoping to enjoy some time with her family and discuss a plethora of other topics not concerning her love life. In perfect timing, one of her nieces comes running in asking for Amy’s help braiding her hair.

As she obliges and gets to work on the curly dark hair of the young girl in her lap, she tries not to think about what next Christmas Eve could be like if she only had the courage to swallow her pride and take a leap.

2015

December 21st

The first few moments Amy’s awake, the only thing she’s able to register is how cold she is, how annoyed she is that it’s so cold, and the imminent importance of making herself less cold.

She seeks the nearest source of warmth, pulling the blankets further up her body (naked other than underwear and a loose t-shirt, not helping her temperature) and then moving on to the second source, the warm body only a few inches away from her. As always, he’s somehow abundant with warmth despite his bare chest being completely exposed to the chilly air of his apartment.

Her head nestles into his shoulder, her arm wraps around his waist, and it takes only a moment before his arms are subconsciously circling around her and pulling her into a tight embrace. She smiles contentedly, pressing a little kiss to his warm skin and falling into a state of complete relaxation, enjoying the few minutes until they have to get up for work-

-until her eyes land upon the window across the room.

“Jake!” she exclaims, slapping his chest probably a little too hard and sitting up abruptly, gracelessly jerking his arms away from their hold on her.

“Babe, what the hell-“ Jake grumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s snowing!” Amy’s grin is wide as she walks over to the window and feasts her eyes on the beauty of the streets of New York covered in a sheet of white for the first time that winter.

“You grew up in Jersey! It snows every year!”

“Yeah, but it’s the first time this year!” She turns back towards him, still beaming with joy, and his initially irritated and confused expression melts in an instant. She’s aware of her effect on him at this point, but she still relishes in the look he gives her after she’s kissed him or laughed at one of his jokes or, in this case, woken him up fifteen minutes before his alarm because of snow.

The cold of being out of bed quickly catches up with her, and she crawls into his side of the bed and pulls the blanket back over both of them, draping herself over his chest. His hands rub up and down her goosebump-covered arms, transferring warmth to her.

“So, I never asked you, do you have any plans for Christmas?” She tilts her chin up to wait for his response.

“Probably the usual, Die Hard and takeout. Maybe I’ll go to the bar with Charles and Gina if they can escape Boyle family Christmas after dinner.”

It’s not that he seems upset by these extremely underwhelming plans, and she understand that the holidays have never been as significant a part of his life as they are hers, but there’s a part of her that despises the idea of Jake sitting at home alone on Christmas.

For a brief moment, she considers inviting him to her parents’ house, but she quickly reasons against the idea. He hasn’t met any of the Santiagos aside from Lucas, who showed up at her door unexpectedly while he was in the neighbourhood and she was in the shower, leaving Jake to talk to him for a solid fifteen minutes only a few months into their relationship. Luckily, they hit it off immediately and now text what she considers to be disturbingly frequently. A week into an ongoing text discussion about cool cop stories, Luke being the only other one of her siblings to follow in their father’s footsteps, Amy’s brother texted her something along the lines of mom told me you were dating another white dude but i didn’t know he was a COOL white dude this time! nicely done sis.

Regardless of his stamp of approval from one of her seven brothers and neither of her parents, though she thinks her mother is just happy she’s finally found a man she really, truly likes (loves, though the word has yet to be uttered aloud) she’s still skeptical of introducing him to her family at an event as crazy and hectic as Christmas. Ideally, Jake’s interpolation of the Santiago family will be gradual, painless and one family member at a time.

“What’s your mom up to?” Amy asks after a few seconds of quiet contemplation.

“I think she’s having dinner with some friends. I was there for Hanukkah last week, we haven’t really done anything for Christmas since my dad left.”

Again, there isn’t any real indication in his tone that he has a problem with his plan of watching Die Hard alone in his little apartment, by definition a perfect night for Jake Peralta. Her idea of the holidays, however, involves spending time with loved ones, and she’s come to realize recently that she loves Jake more than nearly anyone else in the world.

Her mother, to her surprise, is not upset in the slightest when Amy calls and says she’ll be coming on Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve this year.

“You’re not mad?” Amy says, voice low enough that Jake won’t hear her from the shower.

“Of course not, mi amor. I know how much you love nochebuena, I’m happy you’ve finally found someone you want to share it with.”

Three days later - December 24th

Jake’s fingers are tightly interlocked with hers the whole way home in the backseat of Captain Holt’s car. Since the unprecedented display of affection she initiated upon spotting him outside the store after an agonizing twenty minutes spent unsure of his safety, she’s been trying to reign it in a little, but maintaining some form of contact is vital for her breathing to remain steady.

He kisses her temple halfway between the crime scene and his apartment, burying his nose in her hair for a few moments before continuing the conversation between Rosa, himself and Charles while Amy and Holt remain mostly silent.

They eventually make it home and walk upstairs hand-in-hand, as they probably would have around this time even if he hadn’t been caught up in a hostage situation and nearly killed.

“Please tell me you’ll consider watching something other than Die Hard considering you just lived it,” Amy pleads as he lets her go to unlock the door.

He pauses to think. “Hmm, I could probably be talked into Die Hard 2.”

“Not really what I meant, but-“

He pushes the door open, revealing his apartment in a state in which she’s never seen it before - clean. There are a few other key changes, too, like the string lights hanging around the kitchen, the table already set for dinner with a bottle of Spanish wine in the center, and a crockpot she’s never seen him use on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, shit,” Jake blurts out before she can say something. “I completely forgot, between Charles’ gift and then the whole, ya know, situation…”

“What is all this, Jake?” Her eyes are glimmering with awe as she follows him into the kitchen.

He opens the lid of the crockpot, cursing as he realizes whatever he’s left in there is definitely burnt well beyond the point of being edible.

“Crap, I really wanted - I just, I felt bad that you were missing Christmas Eve with your family because I know it’s, like, your favourite holiday and it’s a big part of your childhood and your culture and everything. So I called Luke and asked what you guys would normally do at home so I could try to recreate it. I mean, it wasn’t gonna be perfect - does your mom really cook a whole pig?” Amy nods, still staring at him with complete reverence, leaning back against the counter across from him. “Well, anyways, the closest I could get was pulled pork. Which is totally ruined now.”

She closes the space between them and grabs his face, kissing him much more slowly than earlier that night. His hands, once again, come to rest on her waist over her NYPD windbreaker, pulling her up against him.

“Babe, that was…so sweet,” she murmurs, pecking his lips one more time. “You’re amazing.”

His smile, the adorable, relieved grin of which she’s the world’s biggest fan, compensates a million times over for the ruined dinner. Honestly, she isn’t even hungry. After the events of the last hour, she just wants to be close to him and relax. She’s even more grateful now that she’s not in New Jersey; the moment she received Jake’s texts that evening, getting to him as quickly as possible was a priority she was willing to brave freezing cold waters for. She’s not sure she could’ve handled a two-hour drive.

“Merry Christmas, Ames,” he whispers, forehead resting against hers.

“Merry Christmas, Jake.” She wraps her arms around his waist underneath his jacket and presses her cheek to his chest. “I really was worried about you tonight. If something happened to you...”

He tightens his grip on her, one hand leaving her back to stroke her hair. “It’s okay. I’m safe.”

She allows herself another minute to breathe him in and remind herself of the beating of his heart, just below the stretch of hoodie her ear is pressed up against.

“I know,” she finally says, pulling away to look at him with a bit more composure than before. “Thank god for Charles yippee-kayaking the crap out of those other buckets.”

Jake’s smile fades. “That is still not funny to joke about!”

She laughs, releasing him to grab an ice pack for his concussion and drag him to the couch so she can continue warming herself up under several blankets and with his arms wrapped around her.

-

2016

December 24th

They don’t make it through the entire Christmas carol before Jake, much less concerned with politeness than the Boyle family is, is begging them to spare their ears. Charles, in turn, invites them all inside for a drink to escape the subzero temperatures.

Somehow, the whole squad fits into the small living room, though Amy ends up sharing an armchair meant for one person with Jake to conserve space. She’s annoyed for a split second until he pulls her onto his lap rather than leaving her squished beside him and circles his arms around her.

They exchange stories of the night, leaving out some details for the benefit of Nikolaj (“the criminal could only sing when he had a lot of, um…hot chocolate”; “the guys that had the only Captain Latvia in the city also had a bunch of packages of…candy?”) and drink some weird wine Charles made at home that tastes surprisingly good and is dangerously strong.

“We should go home,” Jake mumbles against the back of Amy’s neck, sending a familiar shiver down her spine, after Genevieve has gone to put Nikolaj to bed, Scully and Hitchcock have departed for the diner around the corner, Terry and Holt have left to spend time with their families and only Rosa, Charles, Gina and themselves remain seated around the coffee table.

She agrees instantly, bidding their friends farewell as she finally gets to her feet and realizes she’s a little tipsy, relying on his hand on her back to keep her upright.

“Babe, it’s so much colder out here,” Amy groans as soon as they’re back out on the stoop.

The roads are now lit only by the street lights and the overarching glow of the skyline, the snow still falling on their shoulders as they begin the two-block trek to her apartment.

His hand tangles with hers and her other arm wraps around his, her cheek leaning against him while they walk at a pace a little slower than they normally would. They’re both enveloped by the postcard-like scene, she almost feels like she’s the protagonist of a horribly cheesy lifetime movie (it doesn’t matter to her that it’s cheesy, she refuses to apologize for being the happiest she’s ever been).

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Amy asks, her voice a little muffled by his jacket. Although she’s more excited than anything else, a part of her is nervous for Jake’s Christmas at the Santiagos’ - mostly because she hopes it’s the first of many.

“So ready. All of your brothers and your mom love me.”

She brought him to a family dinner shortly after the Thanksgiving fiasco with her father, instructing him firmly to just be himself. To Jake’s surprise and her relief, that plan actually worked.

“My dad will come around too, he just hasn’t realized how amazing you are yet.”

Jake kisses her head, conveniently located on his upper arm, and she can feel his smile. “Babe, you’re sappy on Christmas.”

She kisses his cheek in return and resumes their walk at a slightly increased speed, the warmth of her apartment tantalizing her as the building comes into view.

When they’re curled up on the couch in pajamas ten minutes later, she braces herself for the horrified gasp when the Netflix title she selected begins to play on the screen of her television.

“Love Actually? Babe, it’s Christmas! What about Die Hard?”

She sighs in her spot next to him, lifting herself out of his arms.

“This is much more a Christmas movie than Die Hard is,” she argues. “Besides, we watched that last year. And, like, every other week since then.”

“But...it’s tradition.”

“I know, Jake, I just thought...we’re making new traditions, right? Together?”

He pauses, and her heart aches for a split second, but the warm smile that graces his face a moment later eases her worries.

“Yeah, okay,” he concedes, his tone softened. “Now get back over here.”

She settles back into him with one arm wrapped snugly around his torso and revels in being able to enjoy her favourite Christmas movie for a change, hoping it makes the cut to become an annual thing.

The look on Jake’s face when Hans Gruber shows up (and as a bad guy) makes her think she may just get her way.

-

2020

December 24th

Amy Santiago on maternity leave means a lot of things: their apartment is always immaculate, their laundry is always done, there’s always some food prepared in the fridge to varying degrees of edibleness. With no work and a newborn baby who is surprisingly easy to take care of at this stage of her life, she has way too much time on her hands, which also means their apartment is decorated to the nines for the holiday season.

There’s a huge Christmas tree that Jake and Charles struggled to carry up the narrow staircase, dozens of presents underneath from Amy’s many online shopping binges. Garlands and menorahs and wreaths and dreidels cover every inch of space available for decor. There’s a lingering smell of pine and peppermint in the air at all times, the faint sound of popular carols constantly playing from a speaker in the kitchen.

Jake doesn’t comment on the fact that coming home is the equivalent of going to the Macy’s at Herald Square during December, or that it’s all kind of pointless since they’re going to her parents’ for the entirety of the Christmas holidays as they have every year since their engagement (Amy’s aware of these things too, she’s just really bored).

It turns out her efforts aren’t completely futile, as Christmas Eve brings the worst snowstorm on the east coast in twenty years. Perhaps in previous years she would have risked the drive to visit her family, but neither she nor Jake are willing to take their baby girl out of the safety of their apartment as long as the storm persists.

“Okay, she’s asleep-“ Jake pauses halfway through the living room. He really thought he had seen the last of the insanity of Amy wrapping their daughter’s presents, yet the floor in front of the tree is once again littered with wrapping paper, tape and ribbons. “What’s going on in here?”

“Found one that I forgot about buried in our closet,” she mutters, busily wrapping the rectangular box. “Last one, I swear.”

Jake sits down on the floor next to her, his hand reaching for her back to rub small circles while she works. He’s been incredibly sympathetic while she’s on leave, understanding firsthand how difficult it is to be away from their job for that long. She’s an amazing mother, but that much time alone with an infant would take a toll on anyone.

“Babe, you know we’re the ones who will be opening these gifts right? And she won’t remember what they look like?”

Amy shoots him a brief glare before returning to the task. “I know, Jake. But Christmas was always perfect for me when I was growing up and I want Abby’s to be perfect too.”

“It will be.” He puts his finger down on the centre of the box so she can tie the ribbon, well-versed in assisting her after six years of Christmases.

Finally content, Amy places the gift under the tree with the rest of them and her shoulders drop with relaxation.

“There. Perfect.”

Jake takes her in, dark hair cascading in waves over a bright red sweater and face lit up by the coloured lights on the tree. She’s glowing with warmth and joy. He previously thought it to be impossible, but he thinks he loves her a little bit more now.

“You’re perfect,” he says with a smile, leaning in to kiss her forehead. When he pulls away, her eyes are wet with tears.

“Babe, you know I’m too hormonal for you to be that cute!” she exclaims, hastily wiping her cheeks.

Jake laughs, tugging her hand until she climbs into his lap, her back against his chest as they look up at the tree she spent eight hours flawlessly decorating.

“Merry Christmas, Ames.” He breathes the words into her hair, her hand covering his squeezing as he speaks.

“Merry Christmas, Jake.”

They’re interrupted by the sounds of their daughter’s cries - they’re both able to identify it as her hungry one, so Amy scurries off to get her. After a few minutes, Jake can faintly hear the sounds of Amy speaking in Spanish from the next room over. He understands very little of it, but he thinks it might be a bedtime story.

Later, when he asks his wife about it while they’re curled up in bed, she tells him it was her favourite fairytale growing up.

“What’s it about?” he asks, absentmindedly tracing her skin.

“A princess.”

“Let me guess, she lives happily ever after?”

Amy beams at him, kissing him softly on the mouth and shifting even further into his embrace.

“She does.”

[probably-not-star-lord]

Guardians of the Galaxy Volume Two: Part 3 (Peter Quill x Reader)

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: Hello my friends. This part is fluffy and cute and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Warnings: swearing, F L U F F

-

After making formal introductions with the man who claims to be Peter's father, Ego, you set up camp for the night on Berhert. The Guardians sit alongside Mantis and Ego around a small fire you have created as the stars in the night sky illuminate everything around you. You watch as Peter stares down Ego, curious about his father. His face glows in the light of the fire and you find yourself becoming allured by his handsome face. All of the nights you spent cradled in his arms flash through your mind like pictures. Your thoughts wander to every flirtatious smirk he flashed you and how many times he encouraged you to dance with him when a good song came on. You want nothing more than to kiss him, feeling his lips on yours again just how you did only a couple months before. A voice pulls you away from recalling your memories with Peter.

"I hired Yondu to pick you up when your mother passed away," Ego says to the group, providing the explanation of how Peter came to be raised by Yondu. "But instead of returning you, Yondu kept you. I have no clue as to why."

"Well, I'll tell you why..." Peter nods. "...because I was a skinny, little kid who could squeeze into places adults couldn't. I made it easier for thievin'."

"Well, I've been trying to track you down ever since."

"I thought Yondu was your father," Drax chirps as he shovels bites of food into his mouth.

Peter raises an eyebrow at him. "What? We've been together this whole time and you thought Yondu was my actual blood relative?"

"You look exactly alike!" Drax exclaims.

"One's blue!" Rocket snarls obviously.

"No, he's not my father!" Peter settles the situation. "Yondu was the guy who abducted me, kicked the crap out of me so I could learn to fight, and kept me in terror by threatening to eat me."

"Eat you?" Ego questions with a mouth full of food.

"Yeah," he replies.

Ego slams his spoon into his bowl. "Oh, that son of a bitch!"

"How'd you locate us now?" Gamora asks him.

"Well, even where I reside, out past the edge of what's known... we've heard tell about the man they call Star-Lord," Ego states, causing Peter to sit up higher and grin proudly. "What say we head out there right now? Your associates are welcome. Even that triangle-faced monkey there," he continues, standing from his seat. Rocket rubs his face insecurely at Ego's comment. "I promise you it's unlike any other place you've ever seen, and there I can explain your very special heritage. I'll finally get to be the father I've always wanted to be," he hesitates while he and Peter stare into each other's eyes for a moment. "Excuse me, I've gotta take a whiz."

Ego struts away from the campsite as Peter looks at you and shakes his head in disbelief. "I'm not buying it."

"Why don't we go take a walk?" you ask him, and he nods in agreement.

The two of you head off into the woods and Peter stays a few steps ahead of you, walking quickly and ranting in a huff. "Gimme a break! After all this time, you're just gonna show up, and all of a sudden you wanna be my dad?" He stops at a small clearing and turns to you. "And by the way, this could be a trap, okay? The Kree purists, the Ravagers...they all want us dead."

You cut him off, your voice instantly calming him down. "I know, but-"

"But what?" He mumbles, standing only a few inches from you.

"What about that story you told me once about David Hasselhoff? You carried around a picture of him in your pocket when you were little and you told all of the other kids he was your dad, but that he was out of town." you disclose.

"Shooting Knight Rider or touring with his band in Germany," Peter explains. "I told you that when I was drunk. Why are you bringing that up now?"

"Peter," you say, taking another step even closer to him. "I love that story."

"I hate that story!" He groans. "It's so sad! As a kid, I used to see all the other kids off playing catch with their dad. And I wanted that, more than anything in the world!"

You take a few steps away from him after he raised his voice in anger. "Exactly!" You exclaim, pointing a finger toward the way you came from. "What if Ego is your Hasselhoff? What if he's the dad you've always wanted but never got the chance to meet?" Your words become soft again as you take Peter's warm hands into yours, him instantly returning the gesture. "This is your chance, Peter. You have to take it. Besides, if it turns out that Ego is actually a bad guy, we can just leave or even kill him if we have to."

Peter chuckles rubbing circles on your hands with his thumbs. "Kill him?"

You laugh back, looking directly into his eyes. You love that smile of his. "Well, yeah, anyone who lies to you like that is not going to get away unharmed."

"Thank you, Y/N. I needed this."

"Anytime, Peter," you reply. His eye contact falters as he looks at your intertwined hands. You get ready to pull away quickly but he doesn't let you. Instead, he moves closer to you and only pulls one hand away to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You know, there is one thing that could definitely persuade me to go with Ego..." Peter says, smirking. His hot breath hits your face as his lips are only mere centimeters from yours.

"Peter..." you hesitate, letting his name fall on your breath as you exhale.

"Shhh just let this happen..." Peter whispers. The two of you close your eyes and you get ready to kiss him again. This is the moment you've been longing for.

Peter's soft lips barely brush against yours when you hear loud bellows coming from the trees. "Come on lovebirds! The sun's coming up and we need to get going soon!" Ego calls out as he enters the small clearing.

You and Peter groan in anguish simultaneously as he presses his forehead against yours. His eyes are still closed but they flutter opens as he speaks. "Can we kill him now?"

You laugh lightly. "It's okay, Peter. Good things come to those who wait," you mutter as you walk away to follow Ego. The second your back is to Peter the biggest grin creeps up to your face. He’s changed. It’s become clear now that he only wants you.

"Well, I've been waitin’ for a couple months now so whatever you're plannin’ to do to me better be pretty fucking good!" He shouts after you as he tries to catch up.

After sleeping soundly on the Milano, the sun rises slowly over the horizon as you, Peter, Gamora, and Drax gather your needed belongings. You are unsure of where you're going exactly and how long you'll be gone for, but as long as Peter is by your side you aren't going to worry. Rocket and Groot stay behind with Nebula on the ship as they attempt to repair it. Nebula, however, won't be doing any repairing as she is still handcuffed and restrained from leaving. You and Gamora brush past her on your way out.

"You're leaving me with that fox?" she howls.

"He's not a fox, dumbass," you respond.

Gamora pauses next to Rocket. "Shoot her if she does anything suspicious... or if you feel like it." He grumbles in agreement.

The two of you stop before a sad Groot. You comfort him as he cries at your departure. "It'll be just a couple of days. We'll be back before Rocket's finished fixing the ship," Gamora tells him.

"Hey, it's okay buddy. We'll be back soon." You caress his cheek gently as he gives you both a weak smile and a wave.

Rocket glances up from working on the ship with a hint of glare in his eyes. You smirk at the raccoon, waiting for him to make a comment about your departure with Ego. He seems shifty and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

“You gonna be okay without me, Rocket?”

“I’ll try my best not to cry myself to sleep every night,” he remarks sarcastically. “Keep on eye on everyone, Y/N, you’re the only one of these jerks I actually trust.”

You smile. “I’ll make sure to live up to your expectations.”

“Yeah. Don’t fuck up.” Rocket reaches into his pocket and passes you a communication device. “Here. Let me know if that Ego guy turns out to be a real creep...or just call if you miss me and Groot too much.”

“Don’t get soft on me, furball.”

Drax and Peter come bumbling out of the Milano next. Drax is carrying a huge bag full of his belongings on his back and two more bags in his hands. "What if the Sovereign come?" he asks Peter.

"There's no way for them to know we're here," he replies agitatedly. "Let's go."

"I'm uncertain about parting ways."

"God, you're like an old woman," Peter states as he shoos Drax out the door.

"Because I'm wise?"

"Why do you have so much luggage?" Gamora questions Drax, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't want Groot playing with my things," he resolves.

Peter lingers in the doorway for a moment, watching as Rocket continues fixing the ship. He looks back at him. "I hope Daddy isn't as big of a dick as you, orphan boy."

Peter's jaw drops as he glances around with wide eyes. "What is your goal here? To get everybody to hate you? Cause it's workin’," he asserts back to the raccoon. They share a quick smile before the four of you are officially out the door.

Ego's ship is large and oddly shaped. Everyone wanders around for a while, exploring. You can't find any specific rooms as you travel around the craft, only certain areas for sitting or sleeping. Mantis puts Ego to sleep in one of the spots you had walked by earlier. Everything appears to be orange or white and you can't even tell where walls end and walkways begin. After lurking around for a while, confused about what kind of ship you are on, you come across Mantis, Drax, Gamora, and Peter sitting together and chatting.

"Quill and I have a bet!" Drax declares as you turn the corner.

"Dude, you're not supposed to say that..." Peter clarifies with a nervous laugh. You enter the area slowly, and upon hearing your footsteps, Peter looks up at you. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, but it feels like forever in one glance. The way his bright, green eyes pour into yours make butterflies flutter like crazy in your stomach. Quickly, you avert your eyes back to Drax and laugh at his words as if you have been listening to him the whole time.

"I say: if you are about to go through a doorway that is too low, your antennae will feel this, and keep you from being decapitated."

"Right, and if it's anything other than specifically not being decapitated by a doorway, I win."

"They are not for feeling doorways!" Mantis resolves, earning a groan from Drax and a triumphant laugh from Peter. "I think they have something to do with my empathic abilities."

"What are those?" you inquire, taking a seat at the open spot next to Peter.

"If I touch someone, I can feel their feelings."

"You read minds?" Peter questions.

"No. Telepaths know thoughts. Empaths feel feelings, emotions," she renders. One of her hands extends toward Peter's. "May I?"

"Alright," he agrees.

The second her small, delicate hand grazes him, her antennae light up brightly. Her face looks warm and cheerful and her eyes appear to be infatuated or dumbstruck. "You feel... love!" she cheers.

Peter looks at her as if she just said something completely psychotic. "Yeah, I guess I feel a general, unselfish love for just about everybody..."

"No!" Mantis interrupts. "Romantic, sexual love..."

"No. No. I don't," he yammers nervously.

"For her!" she yelps excitedly, pointing right at you. You're taken aback instantly.

Peter yanks his hand away from hers in a flash. "No! That is not..." he can't seem to string words together while Drax pretty much dies with laughter. Gamora sits beside him, trying to hold back her own giggling as she looks between the two of you. Drax sticks his finger right in Peter's face as his cackles echo throughout the ship. "Okay...that's..."

"She just told everyone your deepest, darkest secret!" Drax booms.

"Dude, come on! I think you're overreacting a little bit," Peter murmurs as he scrunches up his face and scoots slightly further away from you to avoid you seeing his humiliation. You furrow your eyebrows together, deep in thought. This man has just met his biological father and is now on his way to an unknown place to learn about his heritage. He should be happy, excited, nervous, or even anxious. Yet, his strongest emotion right now is love. Peter's love for you overpowers any other emotion he could ever feel.

"You must be so embarrassed!" Drax continues to pester while Gamora sits back in amusement at the whole situation. "Do me! Do me!" he chants.

Mantis stands and reaches a hand out to his chest. When she comes in contact with him, she erupts in laughter. "I have never felt such humor!" she retorts as her and Drax point and laugh at Peter.

"So unbelievably uncool," he mumbles, his eyes falling on you a couple of times. He is too caught up in his own shame to read your reaction. If he could, he would be able to understand how you are overflowing with joy. Peter loves you. Peter fucking loves you. That literally means Peter Quill, Guardian of the Galaxy, legendary outlaw who calls himself Star-Lord, is head over heels in love with you.

The thought repeats over and over again in your head. Peter fucking Quill is in love with you. Of course, you feel the same way. Strangely, you believe you always have. There were moments where Peter confessed he wants you and it became more obvious over time. But, love? This is new to you. This is an unexplored territory. You’ve been encouraging Peter to change his playboy ways after it became clear that the two of you are attracted to one another, yet love always seemed unlikely. You’re not sure what to think.

Mantis tries to bring her hand to Gamora but she snatches her wrist. "Touch me, and the only thing you're gonna feel is a broken jaw." Mantis takes a few steps back in fear at such harsh words. Gamora grimaces at you cooly, she isn't here to mess around. You know her well enough to understand that she’s serious and doesn’t have the time for games.

Now, Mantis approaches you. Her face is still pale after Gamora scared her, but she is ready to try again with someone anyway. "Mantis I'm not sure if..." you are unable to speak properly as her hand falls on yours. You know you're about to be just as exposed as Peter was moments ago. You aren't ready to confess how you feel about Peter. All of the eyes in the room are on you and you can't take the thought of everyone knowing how in love with Peter you are. But, you're frozen. Your anxiety only causes you to tense up and your hand remains still underneath Mantis'. Her antennae light up again, just had they had done for Peter. She looks between the two of you.

"Wow..." she exhales, smiling widely and looking directly at Peter. "Your love for him is quite strong, Y/N. You are deeply in love with him, romantically and sexually," she explains. 

Peter watches you, his face knit together in confusion. He always knew you were attracted to him, but you never made a move. He assumed you had given up on him after all this time, even if he kept his promise and dedicated himself to you. It made him try harder to make you his. Peter told himself that he would be okay with simply being your friend if you didn’t truly reciprocate his feelings, so the fact that you’re truly in love with him surprises him. He’s never tried being in love before and he remains clueless on the subject. You can't bring yourself to look up at him, and your eyes remain glued to the floor. Mantis' gaze soon follows, her antennae quivering slightly. 

"There is no need to be so nervous, Y/N. He feels the same for you." She swaps out your hand for Peter's but he doesn't move. Now he wants you to know how he feels. This time, you do look up at him, eyes meeting and full of love. Mantis takes your hand as well. "See? I have never felt such a strong attraction. You two are very much in love," she reveals, again.

You laugh tensely. "I think that's enough feeling for one day..."

Mantis nods in agreement and sits back down in her previous spot. "I can also alter emotions to some extent," Mantis announces.

"Yeah, like what?" Peter demands, his eyes finally pulling away from you to engage back into the conversation.

"If I touch someone who is sad, I can ease them into contentment for a short while. I can make a stubborn person compliant. But, I mostly use it to help my master sleep. He lies awake at night, thinking about his progeny."

Drax becomes all giddy again, pointing to himself in excitement. "Do one of those on me!"

She places a calming hand to his forehead. "Sleep..." she whispers. Drax gets knocked out instantly, his head hitting the wall with a loud snore. The three of you laugh at how he lays back and sleeps so recklessly.

You feel a warm hand envelop yours, followed by a squeeze. Glancing up, you meet Peter's lingering stare. "Wanna get outta here?" he faintly hums to you. 

You nod with a kind smile and follow him out of the area. Finding a darker, quieter spot, Peter takes your other hand in his. You waltz closer to him and place his hands on your waist, bring your own up to his neck. He smirks at the change in position.

“Is there something on your mind, Star-Lord?” Pretending to play stupid, you give him a dumb yet seductive look with your question.

"Y/N,” Peter whispers, eyes glued to your lips. “I feel like we really need to talk about-"

"There you guys are!" You're cut off again by Ego. "I've been looking for you. We're here."

Ego trails off and Peter's head falls back with an angry groan. "I think I hate my dad, Y/N. No joke I seriously despise this dude and he's my father and I just met him so it would be pretty difficult to hate him, but I do. I really-"

"Shhh," you hiss at him with a giggle. "Let's just go, okay?"

"Fine," he whines, trudging out the door.

You aren't too upset about another missed moment with Peter. There are going to be plenty more in the near future. You are looking forward to the upcoming romantic and silly junctures with him. So what if you have to wait a little longer? There will be several exchanges of flirting, dirty jokes, and passionate kisses headed your way, soon. You won't lose him and you're not worried.

After all, Peter is in love with you.

Part Four: Here

tag list:

@ikbenplant @ggclarissa @octo-cow52 @peterfromtheavengers

[theshippigconnoisseur]

Chapter 2: Winds are a Blowinʻ

During that same morning, the anxious mug had been avoiding his Grandpa the entire time. Trying to converse simple talk such as yes, no, maybe, and ok’s whenever he did his chores.

“Mugman, can you gather the vegetables from the-“

“Already on it!” The heated mug said in haste.

Even the chores inside the house was becoming even more difficult. “Grandson, I believe there is a leak in the-“

“On it!” He scurries away in a flash.

Just doing chores got the mug all hyped up, which kind of freaked him out a little. It was like he was a bit lighter, more energized than he had before. Well whatever it is, he used it to his advantage to avoid any confrontation with his grandfather whether it was raking the leaves, watering the plants, feeding the farm animals, and etc. Anything he could get his hands on.

God he couldn’t look at him in the eye without steaming up. To a mug, or any dish for the matter, tend to show physical emotions through their body, to the cup family it was steaming up to indicate an assortment of emotions; rage, happiness, arousal, etc. He couldn’t keep himself from burning up like a steaming kettle….. Kettle… He thought dozily while raking the leaves from the back yard….. It had been getting harder throughout the day to focus when all he could think about was his grandpa’s di-

“GAAAAAAAH!!!” Shouting at nothing, hands on his head and freaking out like a maniac. “What the hell Mugman!! Whatever you’re thinking it has to stop!! This is your grandpa for god’s sake!!” He reminded himself.

“Soooooooo, got yourself into a lovers’ quarrel eh?” The mug shot out from his emotional outburst and turned towards the owner of that voice.

“Oh *sigh* it’s you…” Mugman heaved a relaxed sigh. It was psyhcarrot coming up for some water and O2 as usual.

“Ya ain’t gon’ solve anythin’ if ya keep to ya self.” He said leaning against a tree with a cig in hand.

“Easy for you to say, you plants don’t care who you produce with.” He sighed in defeat. “Let alone producing asexually.”

“Hmmm, True but I ain’t the one complaining.” He puffed out some smoke

“That’s not the point…” The distressed mug sat down on a trunk near the smoking carrot.

“Then what is Mug boy?” another Puff

“This is a relative I’m having conflicts about… You know you wanna forget about it but… your heart just won’t stop beating whenever you look at em’….*sigh* ya get what I’m saying?” He knew he shouldn’t expose who this “relative” is because of the uncertainty. But plants, including vegetables, don’t even care if they “do it” or not. At least they can have sex with their relatives…. Lucky….

The orange carrot just looked over the gloomy mug, he was really sincere about it too… Throwing down the remaining particles of his Cigar, an orange hand wrapped around the upset mug in a brotherly way. “Ya know Mug, ever since you and ya brother saved me and my veggie boys from our contracts, we’ve been grateful for that… So let ol Psych give ya a helping’ hand…”

Mugman looked up at the telekinetic vegetable. “I don’t know P.C. It’s just been difficult…. I don’t want to do something that I know it’s going to make difficult and not to mention, unexpected, changes. I just don’t know what to do…”

“Well…. For starters, ya gotta stop fearing the deep ends of the unknown and just take a dive right in. Explore the open waters, and ya might even like it. Besides, how are ya gonna know if this is something ya really want? Have ya ever been with another being before?”

“….No…” He shamefully said

“Man….really are a virgin ain’t ya?” He joked.

“Shut up” He playfully pushed him aside. They both shared a long good laugh. Psyhcarrot was one of Mugman’s closest investors. After saving him and his crew, he had been forever thankful. And in exchange, theyʻd given him a garden to produce fresh food for the cup family. The Veggie crew took care of the produce while the enthusiastic mug took care of the garden. Watering, Raking, Weeding, etc. Always something to look forward too when you see the food coming in full bloom. Seeing a beautiful variety of colors always put the mug boy at ease. Soon after, the passionate mug made a business out of the gardening. Selling fruits and vegetables to the marketplace which gave a little extra side money for the cup family. So getting some advice from another source was comforting.

“But still Muggie, As a friend, I really don’t care what ya do because as long as ya happy with the decisions that ya make… In this day and age now’s a time ta get experimental…. But my only concern is ya brother. Does he know?”

A groan emitted from the now even more depressed mug. “My brother would FREAK... If he finds out what I did or how I feel I don’t know what he’ll do or what he’ll say!!!”

“By who, pray tell, says ya can’t feel a certain way? Ya how old Mug boy?”

“….27?” he flatly stated.

“That’s basically an adult. Ya have every right to feel how ya want to feel! Ya don’t have to tell him everything. You are ya own cup”

He does have a point, Mugman stated slowly coming into realization.

“And ya brother? Does he ever tell ya what he does for a livin’?”

“No?”

“Exactly! He’s living his life the way he wants, and here ya are huffin’ and moanin’ like a little seedlin’. Grow a pair of cloves for once.” He chuckled while patting the now fully calm mugs back.

“Your right P.C.… I never thought about it….Thanks” He felt a sense of relief that someone actually cares about his wellbeing.

“No Problem…..We’ll I gotta get back underground. Too much sunlight can shrivel this carrot to a crisp.” The carrot got up from the tree.

“If ya have any problems, just send me a hoot and holler and I’ll be comin, and don’t worry about the next harvest this year. I’ll take care of it. You need to relax that brain of yours Mug Head.” He finally stated and disappeared into the ground.

“Hehe Thanks” he whispered…. “I think I’m gonna take it easy today…” He stretched and put away his gardening tools in a nearby shack.

Feel like takin a swim at the pond today, he internally thought. Even the thought of a good swim will ease his heated body. He walked a couple ways towards a bunch of trees that covered the hidden scenery. As he emerged from the other side of the bushes, he overlooked the glistening pool of clear water. Just at the right angle, the light illuminated the pond made the entire forestry look like a dream.

The sight never gets old, he sighed.

Since he didn’t want to soak his clothes. He took his time to strip any article of clothing that will prevent him from treading through the water. Now fully naked he took a big step in the pool enjoying the cool feeling touching his nerves and making its way up his heated form. A sudden jump came from the mug and he was submerged into the murky depths. Coming up for air he gave a sigh of satisfaction. “Aaaaaahh that hits the stop.” Taking in a few long strokes across the pool. He felt all satisfied. This hot steamed boy was now back to his jolly old self again. He totally forgot about everything that happened this morning. After swimming for about an hour, he climbed out of the pool all refreshed.

“I wonder what gran-“He froze. His usual line that he says to himself whenever it was dinner time. His face flushed again. Oh god I’m gonna have to face him again, his face full of dread. Reminiscing back to this morning.

“My boy, did you have a good swim?”…………….

….. Oh…. Dear….GOD!!!! The mug slowly turned toward the voice in fear.

His grandfather was there in the bushes, carrying what looks like a picnic basket.

“G-g-g-g-g-grandpa?!” He jumped hastily to his pile of clothing only to grab a shirt to cover himself.

“W-w-w-w-what are you doing here?!”

“I haven’t seen you all day I thought about having a picnic dinner with my hard working grandson.” Oh god, this was embarrassing. The mug boy turned flushed red.

There he was… in all his glory standing in front of his grandfather. How the hell was this old kettle keeping it calm and collected?

“U-um you didn’t have to come out to see me….. I was just about to head into the house.”

“Well… I’m here now. I brought the food anyway so we can just eat out here. Might as well right?”

“R-right...” He grabbed the remaining of his clothing and got dressed behind a large tree. Who knew how long his grandpa was standing there watching, furthermore it made his heart beat even faster just thinking about what his grandfather was thinking about. Deep breaths Mugman, Deep breaths.

When he walked out from behind the tree, his grandfather was already setting up the blanket next to the pond. The Mug boy, getting out of his trance, decided to lend a helping hand to his old relative. “Oh, Thank You.” He smiled.

After setting everything up, they both sat in silence enjoying the scenery and the food that came with it. “The food is delicious as always grandpa.” Mugman declared, enjoying the vegetable soup that his grandfather prepared. “It was nothing my boy, your grandma showed me how to cook. She knew I wouldn’t survive on just my inventions so she taught me how to prepare meals.” He chuckled. “I was glad that I learned from her or else you would’ve suffered from my bad cooking.” They both laughed. It was just like old times.

Grandpa always shared stories about his youth. Getting a chance to be a part of his inner circle made him sigh in relief. This was a beautiful bonding moment between the two. He knew he couldn’t just let it go. He enjoyed his company…. He may even be in lo-

“I remember when you and your brother were just youngin’s when you came to this pond.” A chuckle emitted from him “You were so scared to jump in thinking that you were going to get chased by a shark.” He took a sip of tea from his glass.

How could he ever forget? That was when Cuphead dragged him into the pool and pretended to be a shark. He knew that he didn’t know how to swim just yet until his grandfather jumped in and saved him from his “imminent demise.” He remembered those strong arms holding him in place. He remembered the warm, gentle embrace that kept him safe and protected from the outside world. Looking back at the pond that he was once so afraid of, made his eyes glitter in awe. He knew this was a very memorable occasion between the two. Still, in awe did his eyes started to well up. Lightly frosted tears slowly trickled down his cheeks. It was so long ago and why was he feeling this way right now? Did he remember how his grandpa was always there for him?

A hand wiped a tear away from his face. “What’s wrong?” The mug looked toward his grandfather, concern all over his face. “I-it’s nothing.”

“Come now, you can tell your old man.” The old kettle pats his back in comfort.

“I guess I have no other choice huh?” He chuckled wiping a tear from his other eye.

“It’s just…” He fumbled with his words. “I actually… missed having your arms around me…. W-when I was a child…” His cheeks started to show a tint of red. “I’ve kind of missed being a child and getting your attention… Now that I’m an adult I can’t receive that same treatment.” He spoke in truth. It has been awhile since he ever gotten a loving hug from him. Maybe it was just masculinity that molded him to be an adult.

“Mugman…” The elderly kettle patted his back “No matter how old you get, you should already know that my love is unconditional. If you wanted a hug from me you can always just ask. You don’t have to be afraid of me. You will and forever will be my grandson” Those words shot like cupid’s arrow through his heart.

He began to fumble with his words. “T-then is it ok to receive a h-hug from y-you now?” And with that, he felt those strong, loving arms wrap around his muscular form. A very shocked mug began to turn red. He was in his arms, those same and loving arms that he remembered from so long ago. But the warmth wasn’t the only thing, he was able to hear his grandfather’s heartbeat. It was beating fast.

Two hearts beating in rhythm due to the close contact. “It has been awhile my boy…” He softly heard a gulp. Was the elder kettle getting nervous? He wondered but snuggled deeper into his grandfather’s shirt. Taking in his scent, his body movement, everything. He felt like he could stay there for hours.

This lasted for about a good five minutes until the mug boy felt the warmth dissipate. He suddenly felt a tension and looked up to his only source of warmth. “It’s getting late my boy, we better clean this up and retire to our abode.” He smiled.

“y-yeah, ok” And with that, they began to pack everything up and returned to the windmill.

They’ve noticed a light emitted from the house, as they took a curious step into the corridor they noticed Cuphead unwrapping some boxes.

“Hey Mugs! Gramps! Where have ya been! I just got home early and I wanted to celebrate!” He carried two heavy bottles of what seems to be alcohol.

“Um what’s the occasion?” The mug boy asked. He put down the picnic basket next to the coat rack.

“What I can’t drink with my family? I just got a big pay today and I thought we should drink in merriment to my BIG RAISE!” He set down a couple of shot glasses.

Both the mug and kettle looked over at each other. “I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt right?”

The elder kettle grinned, “I wouldn’t mind one drink, it has been awhile since this ol kettle had a 40” (40 – Slang word for alcohol in the 40s’)

“Then let’s have a TOAST!” Shouted the cup boy.

End