#why else would you blow those tiny fun things off that get everywhere

[roksanarose]

scar shows his love in gifts... specifically flowers. i wonder why. ..and grian keeps every one of them. I wonder why once more.

orrrr... a small excerpt from a larger writing. brownie points if you can pin point what traffic series this moment is based off of!!

..............................................

A new page greets him. Once more, a flower is on the page.

This time, it's a rather sad looking dandelion. Really, It's not a flower. Rather, a weed.

Now, despite there being no writing on this page (but a scribble of an angry face!), he remembers the story behind this dandelion quite well. Scar had given it to him. With some claim of, “It’ll help you in battle! Yes, yes, it will! Gentlemen, you're passing up an amazing offer!” A crystal was shoved into his fella’s hands and his, the same. But his fingers wrapped around something else. Something smaller. At that point Scar was strained and ready to leave and as soon as he did he looked down.

Oh. 

Huh. 

A dandelion was with the crystal.

He remembers how yellow it was. As yellow as the sun. Pretty petals in tack, full of life. Running his finger across the petals… how soft it was…

That same dandelion is now devoid of its petals. All that's left is the stem and its middle.

He frowns once more. Why didn’t he learn his lesson? A cricket chirps nearby rather mockingly. 

The page flips again.

[nobodies-png]

Okay. So this is like, the funniest prompt that I found, wrote a bit for, and forgot about. I wrote it for a different fandom, and then thought "Organization XIII would be funny for this..." Org. XIII is turned into children and now the Reader has to (make sure they don't die) take care of them. Ages like... 4-9 because that's when children are the funniest. Do what you will with it

ngl im a sucker for old cliche prompts like these, every fandom has at least an au for this specific setting or some kindergarden au lolol

anyway here’s some HCs as to how they’d act and stuff !

Xemnas :

One of the oldest kids, but you don’t really know what to make of him. You were expecting Xemnas to still lead the rest, scare them into submission with a simple glare or something - turns out he’s rather timid. Barely speaks, you get the feeling he’s ignoring you on purpose, just makes a lot of faces and noises to indicate what he’s feeling. 

Somewhat clingy too, but unlike Demyx and Xigbar who want to get your attention through any means possible, Xemnas just grabs onto the hem of your shirt and follows you everywhere in silence. Doesn’t cause much trouble, but he doesn’t help you keep the others in check either, a true neutral I guess. 

Sometimes, he will just disappear and show up whenever you least expect him. Loves to climb and sit on tall places. Spaces out a lot. Compared to the rest, you can probably leave him to his own devices, as long as he’s not left alone with Xigbar or Larxene. 

Xigbar :

Actually the oldest, but pretty annoying and high maintenance. If he got on your nerves as his regular self, then you’re in for a fucking ride - this Xigbar is here to cause problems on purpose. He likes to talk, a lot. And it’s sucks because it’s usually endless and mindless chatter or pointing out everything that he sees. 

If he starts to get bored, he’ll scurry off to bother someone else, but it usually ends with someone crying or hurt. Don’t even bother keeping him on a leash, the bastard is too smart to be contained. 

Xigbar is one of those kids that can be extremely useful if you get him on your side, as he has no problem snitching and ratting out the others. The best way to keep him from losing his other eye or gouging out someone else’s is to bribe or trick him into helping you (just know that he can also be bribed by the other kids, Xigbar WILL betray you). 

Xaldin :

You expected Zexion to be the loner type, but turns out it’s Xaldin - he’ll always be on his own or avoiding the others, usually around the kitchen since you’ve banned everyone from going in there until they return to normal (not that they listen to you, but oh well). 

Xaldin is pretty much like those kids who hate being treated like kids and who pretend to be above the rest. While he might seem calm, it’s really easy to get him riled up, a simple “I bet you can’t do this or that” and he’s off to prove himself. 

Oddly enough, he gets jealous easily - if you give Roxas a cookie or whatever for behaving, then you GOTTA give Xaldin one too or else he’ll throw a fit. The best thing you can do with him is be honest and confess that you need him to chill the fuck out and Not Die :tm: while you take care of the others, he’ll feel all grown up because you told him the truth and will calmly stay in his room. 

Vexen :

One of the oldest kids, the stereotypical kid who only has ONE interest and won’t shut the fuck up about it, which is cute but not everyone has the patience to sit through a 6 hour talk about dinosaurs. You never expected this baby Vexen to be so into dinosaurs out of all things. Of course, just because he only talks about them, doesn’t mean he’s not curious about all that shiny lab equipment. 

You can’t keep him distracted with dinosaur books all day, he still has the heart and mind of a scientist ! Because he’s a very obvious nerd, he’s the target for a lot of members in the organization, namely Larxene - and when Vexen gets flustered or frustrated, he freezes up. Literally. He WILL freeze the entire room too.

Your best bet is to pair him up with Zexion or Xion, since they’ll gladly sit down to listen and learn. The three will gladly stay locked up in the library learning and reading. You just gotta hope Vexen doesn’t instantly crush Zexion and Xion’s dreams by ruining their fairytales with facts and logic.

Lexaeus : 

Also one of the older kids and the tallest too. This Lexaeus is just as stoic and intimidating as the original, but apparently he’s also very sensitive. Everytime he speaks to you it sounds like he might be about to cry. But he looks fine ? So you really don’t know what to do about him. 

Either way, Lexaeus is also very helpful and responsible, so you can trust him to watch over the rowdy kids and keep them relatively safe, just try not to pair him with the suuuper loud ones. 

Probably the type to take the blame and responsibility for any pranks gone wrong under his watch, even if you fully know there’s no way he’s responsible. Lexaeus is the epitome of “I just want everyone to get along”. Somehow, he’s very gentle with the others (as gentle as one can be when straight up dragging Xigbar out of the ventilation system) but he’ll break any toys and other items given to him.

Zexion :

Zexion is very very small, so you can probably understand the stress he’s going through, surrounded by these animals. Like Xemnas and Demyx, he’d be pretty clingy but he wouldn’t be able to follow you around or cling to you with all the others pushing and fighting around. 

So you can either just carry him on your shoulders or leave him with Lexaeus or Vexen as mentioned before. If not, Zexion will wander and either fall asleep in the Grey Area or find the library on his own. 

Not a problematic child, really. Zexion lacks the energy and the feralness to join any shenanigans - he's also smart enough to know that he’ll be better off listening to you and staying clear out of safety hazards. Though there’s always the chance of other members taking advantage of Zexion’s naive and curious nature.

Saix :

You were expecting him to be a tiny version of his regular self, bitter and strict. Surprisingly, he’s way more fun as a kid, glued to Axel by the hip too. They’re the duo you should look out for - Axel is the one who gets them in trouble and Saix is the one who makes sure you never notice they were behind it all. 

The one with a TERRIBLE temper right after waking up. Saix won’t hesitate to bite and claw anyone who tries to wake him up, even Axel knows better than to try. If it’s nap time, let him go, don’t even try to stop him. Don’t let anyone else near him.

Other than that ? A very nice kid in general, he feels a sense of responsibility when it comes to the younger members, so he’ll be the one to keep Axel in check whenever Zexion, Roxas or Xion are around. As for the older ones ? They’re on their own.  

Axel :

Axel is the first one to say “fuck” and it spreads like wildfire. So if you start hearing a bunch of kids swear at the top of their lungs, you know who caused it. You’ll also know because you’ll find him laughing and wheezing on the ground. 

Somewhat naive, if you tell him he can’t say “invertebrae” because it’s a swear world, he’ll believe you. But SURPRISINGLY he’s very aware of how dangerous his fire powers are - like, Axel wants to cause trouble on purpose, but he doesn’t really want anything to escalate and get anyone actually hurt. Unless it’s Vexen. If it’s Vexen, then it’s fine by him. 

You might hear “Y/N, LOOK” before seeing Axel in the kitchen casting fucking Firaga on a bag of Totinos or something. He and Demyx somehow keep getting targeted by the Dusks, who love to play pranks on them. 

Demyx :

Most likely to eat food off the ground, or anything shiny and colorful, really. He has the exact same vibes as the little brother who likes to follow people he thinks are cool to try and impress them, just to be considered a cool kid too. 

Demyx is very clingy but also a sneaky kid, he can easily cry his heart out so you’ll pay attention and protect him from people he’s pissed off. This is literally why most of the kids don’t like to be around him, cause he’s THAT kid who will ruin everyone’s funs by calling the responsible adult if he gets upset.

Instead of being musically inclined, Demyx just makes a lot of noise - constant loud humming, blowing raspberries, stomping his feet or tapping/hitting things, repeating funny noises or phrases he picks up. Probably has an old ass iPod or an MP3 you can distract him with.

Luxord :

DO YOU KNOW THOSE LITTLE KIDS WHO ARE SMARTASSES ? The ones who act like they know the mysteries of the world and give you a look of superiority because you clearly don’t know what tubby custard really is ? Yeah, that’s Luxord.

Full of fun facts that he LOVES to brag about, but most of them are fake and he’s none the wiser. You cannot correct him either because it’ll be like telling an 8 year old that Santa isn’t real. Thankfully, you don’t HAVE to correct him because that’s what Xaldin is for. 

Most likely to steal Xigbar’s eyepatch for himself and somehow convince everyone else that it was HIS eyepatch in the first place. How ? We don’t know, we just don’t know. Also Luxord might just steal little trinkets from everyone and stash them under his bed like the little creacher he is. If you can’t find your keys, you know who’s got em.

Marluxia :

A natural big brother figure. Very understanding too, even if you’ve heard from Larxene that he’s tired of everyone pulling his hair and that he might shave it all off just so they all stop. Yeah, there’s some lingering resentment in there. He’s 50/50 on being a little bastard and an angel.

Marluxia volunteers to help you take care of the other kids, mostly because he likes bossing others around and because he also likes reading books to Zexion and Xion so they fall asleep. 

LOVES to leave trails of petals and flowers wherever he goes, but REFUSES to clean up. Always seen with Larxene - Marluxia is also lowkey competitive so he sees the Axel + Saix duo as rivals. In what, exactly ? Who knows. VERY picky with food too. Actually, just very picky and petty in general.

Larxene :

The one kid who develops a personal vendetta against you from day 1. Larxene DESPISES being told what to do, so if you’re constantly telling her not to do this, to do that and whatever, she will make your life a living hell and do the opposite out of spite. 

You didn’t hear this from me, but Larxene is GENUINELY upset that she keeps accidentally zapping people whenever she plays with them. It’s really hard for her to apologize too, so you’ll have to step in a lot to de-escalate the situation.

Larxene sticks forks in outlets JUST to scare others, since she cannot get hurt at all by electricity. She just seems to enjoy making others afraid.

Roxas :

One of the youngest, Roxas doesn’t KNOW what “using your indoor voice” means, he’s either DEAD quiet or SCREAMING about how he’d like to have ice cream as a treat, please and thank you. It’s really fucking funny to see honestly. Just make sure he doesn’t sneak up on you and scare you shitless.

The type who gets dragged into shenanigans rather than cause them - he’s a very neutral and calm kid otherwise. The worst thing he can do is just steal everyone’s dessert or something because of that intense sweet tooth he’s got.

A lot of the older kids LOVE trying to get him and Xion to laugh, because Roxas has this permanent poker face AND because they both have really funny snort giggle laughs. 

Xion : 

Also one of the youngest, very sweet, patient and polite ! Xion also tends to be very clingy, always needing to hold hands with someone whenever she walks around Castle Oblivion. No one has the heart to tell her no, either.

Can get VERY VERY irritating and angry when someone tries to make fun of her or Roxas. Like a little hurricane of puppies - Xion won’t stop pestering all the meanies until she’s received a proper apology. If she somehow ends up hurting someone, she’ll insist on making up too.

Xion also tends to copy people she likes, similar to Demyx. You might catch her imitating your movements or way of speaking, or even copying the Dusks’ movements - but just make sure she doesn’t see you, Xion will explode out of embarrassment.

[kjhmyg]

rough edges pt. 6 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk, fluffy too :(  warnings: mentions of drugs, unprotected sex, cursing, violence, alcohol, drinking, death, manhandling, college parties, boys lol  word count: 10.7K

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / part 6 / 6.5

author’s note: hello i love u. first of all welcome to  ♡ libra season ♡ sorry this took so long; it feels kinda short so maybe i’ll post a short 1k chapter next week (part 6.5). i wrote the last half of the last part like an hour ago i hope i didnt make any big grammatical errors or typos lol. also dedicating this to my friend haru who i miss loads.

RE asks tag

What was a red mark on Jungkook’s cheek, has now turned purple-ish. He promises it doesn’t hurt anymore but you notice him mindlessly touching it at times. So you kiss it very gently each time you say goodbye and he doesn’t stop you.

With one arm around over the back of your chair, he’s feeding himself fries with the other. You lean against his shoulder, watching as he nibbles away. “Can’t keep your eyes off me huh?” He mutters.

“You know I can’t.” You admit, giggling into quick, continuous pecks. He lingers on a little longer on the last one like he always does.

“Will you guys save it for the bedroom?” Jimin asks, face twisted in disgust. He doesn’t really care, but it’s fun to tease Jungkook. “Gross.”

“Gross is you dipping fries in your coke.” Hana shakes her head at the soaked fry between his thumb and index finger.

"Don't be mad you don't have refined taste in food like me." He shoots back. “A soaked fry has equal parts sweet and salty.”

“You’re just gross.”

Hana’s realised it doesn’t take much to get under his skin and is enjoying every bit of it. The irony is that it always starts with Jimin trying to get under Jungkook’s skin. Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s phone has his undivided attention. In fact, he’s been rather quiet today, spending the last five minutes or so frowning at his screen.

“Tae, you alright?”

“No.” He sighs, finally looking up. “I have to get a job.”

“...And?”

“Well I don’t want to.” He says simply. “Can’t believe my parents are cutting off my allowance because I spend too much.” He uses air quotes.

Except for Jimin, the rest of you only manage blank stares, unable to sympathise with his first world problem. "Yeah, I’m sure those thousand dollar Balenciaga sneakers you got last week have nothing to do with it.” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook. They were limited edition.”

“A thousand dollars?” You say. “What the hell dude.”

“Okay can we stop talking about the past and focus on the present?” Leaning back against his chair and looking into the distance, Jimin places a comforting hand on his shoulder

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a nice job.” Jimin says and he lets out a tiny whine, throwing his head back.

That’s when it hits you. You have no idea how, but it does. And you have no idea if it’ll work but you’re doing it anyway.

A clueless Hana raises a brow in question at the sudden look of mischief you give her. She braces herself for whatever you’re about to do, equally curious and worried. “Actually, you should apply at our café.” You say to Taehyung.

“They’re hiring?”

“Well not yet.” Turning back to her, you widen your eyes slightly, prompting Hana to play along. She quickly does, noticing Jungkook watching her over your shoulder. “I’m leaving soon so they’ll definitely need a replacement.”

“You’re quitting?” Jungkook asks, sitting up straight. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” The little head shake you give isn’t enough to convince him. “I just wanna work somewhere else. Anyway, you’d like working there Tae. It’s nice.” The other boy perks up, seemingly interested.

Hana agrees, explaining the details of your work and what it’s like there. While they talk, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder to get your attention, “Are you sure nothing happened? Creeps harassing you again?”

“No, really.” You say, hand over his cheek. “I just want a change of environment. The job’s getting boring.”

The worry in his eyes gradually disappears as he seems to accept it. He gives a soft okay for now. Looking away, you let out a silent sigh of relief. On the inside, the rational side of you is yelling her head off. What possessed you to decide to quit your job for no good reason? This plan is banking on the chance that Jungkook will let you join him at the club. Which when you think about it, is very unlikely to happen.

Yet, another part of you is excited. Your mind is in a frenzy. Convincing yourself you’ll figure the details out later, you silently thank Taehyung and his Balenciagas for handing you this opportunity.

"Oh hey, we better get going." Jimin says, looking at the time on his phone. "We'll see you guys tonight?"

The girls of Eta Iota are hosting a party tonight. Naturally, the boys get invited and by association, you too. Sunhee’s cashing in on your promise of taking her to one, so you have to go even if it’s just to hang around for a while then leave. You part ways with Jimin and Tae as Jungkook gives Hana and you a ride back. He walks with you to the lobby of your place, where you tell Hana to head up first.

Right by the stairwell, he leans against the wall and holds you in his arms, between his legs. “Are you sure you wanna quit your job?”

"Yessss, I’m sure. I wanna work somewhere else." Resting your chin on his chest, you look up at him. "It's cute that you're worried about me."

“Of course I am.” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll help you keep a lookout for places that are hiring.”

You smile gleefully up at him. Oh, he’s going to help you get a new job alright. Just not in the way he’s thinking. Already, you feel bad for lying to him. But you keep telling yourself you’re doing this for him.

He doesn’t let you go so easily when you try and remove yourself, not giving up his hold on you. When you pry his hands off, he tugs you right back in, locking you in his arms as kisses land all over your face. “Stop,” you laugh, “someone might see us.” But you don’t look around to check for anyone. He doesn’t care either.

He lifts you up easily, wrapping your legs around him. Switching positions, you now feel the cool wall against your back. “Should we skip the party tonight?” He asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“You have to go. It’s part of your fraternity sorority socialising thingy thing.” He rolls his eyes at that. “Plus, I promised Sunhee I’d go with her.”

"Fine. But I’m only going ‘cause you’re going."

“So I’ll see you there, okay?” He nods in response as his hold on you loosens. A peck on the cheek and you’re going up the stairs, one step at a time, hand still holding on to his. As it slips away, he squeezes his chest with his other hand and groans in mock pain.

“Silly,” you mutter between giggles. He breaks character and skips up the steps to get another kiss from you. At this rate he would never leave.

“Jungkook seriously,” you say against his lips, leaning back to separate yourself from him, “you should go now. I’ll see you later anyway.”

He complies and lets you go, but not without releasing a very dramatic sigh. You hurry up the steps before he changes his mind, looking down over the railing as you go, waving your goodbye.

𝄖𝄖

Purple, purple everywhere. The Etas had decided to do their rush party while celebrating their anniversary. Which explains why the decorations are of their ‘official’ colour. Purple balloons, cups, banners, napkins.

“This is so fun!” Sunhee squeals, coming up to hug you from behind. “I’ve made a bunch of new friends!” She squeals again and hurries off elsewhere, leaving you and Hana once again.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself.” Hana comments, taking a sip of her drink.

“Aren’t you?” You nudge her side. “You’ve had like four guys come up and give you their number. Don’t act like you’re not having fun.”

“I guess I’m havin’ a lil’ fun…” she mumbles towards the end, sipping on her drink with a tiny smile. She’s holding up much better than you thought she would. Much better than you at least, she doesn’t seem too bothered by the constant yelling.

There’s no reason to worry about Sunhee. She’d clung on to you earlier when you arrived together as promised, like you’re her ticket in. As soon as you passed through the doors, a couple of girls from the host house came up to greet you. While it was a little awkward for you, Sunhee saw her chance and took it. She’s been hanging out with them since.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Hana asks. She’s still unsure about your plan. You had gotten an earful from her earlier on, back at the apartment. Only after you promised, pinky promised and swore you’d be safe, did she finally calm down.

“Somewhere.” It’s crowded enough to not be able to see the other end of the room. You crane your neck to see better. “Don’t know if I can find him with all these people around.”

“Go.” Her pretty, long eyelashes flutter over her eyes as she looks at you. “Don’t worry about me.”

You’re hesitant to leave, but she reiterates that she’d be fine and you finally nod, much to her relief. She has Jimin and Taehyung with her anyway, she says, nodding over to the pair a few feet away.

Before disappearing into the crowd, you turn back to let her know you might not see her for the rest of the night. But she’s read your mind, waving her hands at you. “You’ll be with Jungkook, I know.”

“Text me when you get home. I love you.” You blow her a kiss and watch her roll her eyes, then push through bodies of people to get to a different part of the house. There’s way too many people here. Most of them tower at least a head over you, disrupting your view. Your phone vibrates just as you enter the biggest room of the house which gives you a little more maneuvering space than the previous one.

Jungkook: u look great

Slowly, you turn in the spot you’re in, paying close attention to each section of the room.

Jungkook: i like pink

Jungkook: ur ass looks great in those jeans btw

You: reveal yourself  

He doesn’t respond and you continue to wander around, until you reach a short hallway separating the kitchen area from the previous room. With more room to breathe, you decide to stay put knowing Jungkook won’t keep this up for long anyway. And you’re right.

"Looking for me?" His hot breath tickles your ear.

Spinning around, you're greeted by his wide grin and immediately hate how good he looks in a simple white tee with his house name, Kappa Sigma embedded on the left chest, and tucked into black jeans, "Hey you." He tastes like fruit punch when you kiss him.

Your bodies sway slightly to the music with his hands on your hips and your arms around his neck. He reaches behind, pulling something out of his back pocket and holds it up in front of you. “Lollipop?”

“It’s...purple.” You take it from him, observing its odd colour, wondering if this was even necessary.

“I know.” He chuckles. “They really go all out.”

You shrug, unwrapping the sweet and pop it in your mouth. “So, you wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“But I thought you liked parties,” you blink, “socialising, hooking up.”

“I know you’re making fun of me but it’s kinda hot when you talk like that.” He eyes the way your lips wrap around the lollipop, unconsciously mirroring the movement of your tongue licking the layer of sugar off your lips, suddenly going thirsty.

You shove him in the chest and he laughs, stepping back. “I’ve been here less than an hour.” You say. Although, it’s not like you were planning to stay long anyway. You know that, he knows that.

“You won’t miss a thing, trust me.” He hooks an arm over your shoulder. “Besides, we can get started on the hooking up part.” He winks.

You leave through the back, avoiding the large crowd up front. You quickly send a text to Hana to let her know you’re leaving. Out on the lawn, you walk past a group of guys drunkenly singing to their heart's content and you flash them a thumbs up despite how horrible they sound.

The Eta Iota house is just a few houses down from the boys’ and you walk back hand in hand, swinging your arms as you go. Jungkook watches your smile, and the way you laugh when your arms swing so far back that it throws you off balance and you almost fall. “You look good.” He says, softly.

“I know, you told me.” You say without sparing him a glance. “I look good in pink. And these jeans are good for my ass.”

“No.” His voice is as soft as his smile. Looking at him then, you notice the tender look in his eyes. “I mean you look good when you’re happy. It’s nice. Does that make sense? I don’t know.”

Your heart leaps at the way he looks away almost shyly, focusing entirely on the ground as he walks, his other hand in his pocket. You close the gap between you and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you too.”

The rest of the short walk back goes in comfortable silence, you still lightly swinging your arms. But as you reach the front of the house, Jungkook pauses. It surprises you when he decides to take a walk in the park instead. You give him curious glances along the way, wondering what’s gotten into him. It’s a ten minute walk from his place to a park that’s your go-to for impromptu date nights.

You walk past groups of people hanging around, laughing with food on large picnic mats. Finally you opt for an empty space on the grass, not too far away from others there but secluded enough to have some privacy.

“Oh my god, look at the clouds.” They’re big and fluffy, floating through the dark sky. “I wish we could see the stars. That’d be perfect.”

Jungkook follows your gaze. “There are places where you can do that you know.”

“Yeah, I’d love to go one day.” You say with a heavy sigh.

“We could go together.” Jungkook says, making you look at him. “Like a vacation.”

“Aw. I’d love that.”

He smiles sweetly, then turns in place to face you. “I went to look for places which were hiring earlier.”

“You did? Why?”

“Aren’t you...quitting your job?” He looks at you confused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“Yeah but, there’s no rush.”

“Just wanna make sure you have something to fall back on.” He says, checking his phone. “So, the bakery right next to the cafe is hiring.”

“Jungkook,” you laugh, “I can’t quit and then take up a job next door!”

“I know but, just in case.” He goes on, looking upwards as he recalls. “The school’s also looking for a part-time librarian⎼”

“Baby no, that’s so boring.” You groan. “I thought I’d look for something more...exciting. Like a routesetter maybe?”

“I didn’t know you rock climb?”

“Oh I don’t.” He looks at you with a blank expression on his face. “What? I can learn to!”

"You're weird." He shakes his head and taps your nose. "Why would you wanna go out of your way for a part time job?"

"Cause...it's fun?"

"Even you don't believe that."

"You're right." The wheels in your head turn at full speed, trying to make this as natural as possible. You have to be careful, Jungkook's way too attentive when it comes to you. "Okay, I'll be honest."

He perks up. Face filled with curiosity, as if ready to say I knew it, that something was up, and that you wouldn't leave your job over nothing.

"I'm quitting because…" You gulp. "I want to spend more time with you."

"What?"

"Don't be mad." You add in quickly. "I just thought that I'd get to have more time to spare for you if I wasn't always working."

Eyes closed, he lets out a sigh and drops his head with a little shake. The small smile and amused look in his eyes makes you smile too. “Are you serious? Are you running a fever?” He places the back of his palm against your forehead and then checks the pulse on your wrist.

“I’m fine.” You snatch your hand back.

“The Y/N I know wouldn’t make impulsive decisions like this.” He quirks a brow, “You know you need that job. How else will you pay rent? Get groceries? You don’t ever let me pay for anything.”

“I’ll find a job with less hours.”

“Less hours, less pay.” He lifts your chin up, pouty lips calling him in. “Don’t be silly baby, you’re not leaving your job.”

“Too late.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I...may have...emailed my resignation...earlier on.”

He groans and you cringe when he shoots you a look of disapproval. You give your best kicked puppy look which doesn’t work. “This doesn’t happen often but I’m really mad at you right now.”

“Don’t be.” You scoot closer and when he turns his head away, you move onto his lap, forcing him in an embrace. “I’ll find something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Go back to work tomorrow and speak to your manager. Tell him you’ve changed your mind.” He asks seriously. “I’ll go and have coffee during every one of your shifts so we’re technically spending time together.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m the silly one?”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” You sigh. “I didn’t think things through…”

“You’re damn right you didn’t.” He rests his head in his palm. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

“Spend more time with you?” You inch even closer, if it’s even possible with how you’re already sticking to him like glue. He doesn’t reply right away but squeezes you in his hold, resting his cheek on your head. “Are you still angry?”

“Yes.”

You lift your head off him for a kiss. When he sighs this time, he feels the anger dissipating. At the same time he curses the way his body betrays him when it comes to you. You can barely tell he’s upset with the way he responds so eagerly. The pleased look you give him after has him rolling his eyes. “You can’t be mad at me. I’m cute.”

“True.” He leans back, hands on the grass behind him. “But, we are going to look for job postings online tonight.”

“But mom!” You whine, folding your arms in front of you.

“No buts.”

“Not even my butt?” Blinking innocently at him, you add in a little head tilt until he breaks and starts grinning. “Thought you liked my butt.”

He falls onto the grass, laughing in disbelief and you steady yourself on his chest. “What has gotten into you?” He says, watching as you hover over him. “You’re acting so weird.”

“No I’m not. I’m just happy, like you said.” You kiss him on the nose. “You’re the weird one. Nagging at me about getting a job. Being a responsible adult and stuff.”

He flips over, switching your positions so that he’s hovering over you now. Almost immediately, you’re distracted by how dreamy he looks with the view of the night sky behind him. You run your thumb over one side of his cheek. “You did this to me. Plus I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I can pull some strings and get you a job somewhere fun.”

He rolls over to your side and lets you rest your head under his arm, both of you watching the sky. You shift even closer, slinging one leg over his and draw circles on his chest. “Hey I mean, worse comes to worst, I could always come and work for you.”

Surprisingly, he laughs. Really hard. You lift yourself up and rest on your elbow to watch him. “Nice one.” He sighs. Then he notices the way you’re looking at him, face void of expression and brows up in question. “What? You were serious?”

“Slightly offended that you thought it was that funny but yes, I was.”

He raises a brow at you. “You? Want to work at a club? Doing what?”

“Bartender? Cleaner?”

“Don’t even joke about that, our cleaners are our most valuable staff. They clean, sanitise, then double sanitise, wipe up vomit, make sure the booths aren’t lined with nasty fluids.”

Your face twists in horror and he nods, proving his point. “Okay...fine so I’m not qualified enough for that. But bartending? I can do that.”

“No.”

“Why?”

He gets up and you follow. He ruffles the back of his head and dusts of the grains on his hands. “Baby, you’re not working there. I won’t allow it.”

“But𝄖”

“Y/N, I said no.” There was no room to argue, not even cheekily. He didn't raise his voice, but the tone he took was enough. Easing the firm stare he gave you as he said it, he turns his attention to his phone as it beeps.

𝄖𝄖

"Lucky for you, I told the manager you just needed a break to focus on school," Hana yawns, pulling up the blanket to her face, "you can come back anytime."

"You want me to give up?"

"Only because your plan is dangerous."

"Hana, I'm not giving up."

She sighs, turning over to the other side. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

You push yourself off her bed and sit on the edge, thinking. Quietly, you pull open the drawer by her bed, fumbling around until you feel what you’re looking for. The little paper you tore out of Jungkook’s notebook. When he started sleeping over, you had asked Hana to keep it safe for you. You stare at the address. You hadn’t gotten round to visiting the place, especially since you don’t even know what you’re looking for.

“Turn off the light when you leave, will you?” Hana mumbles half-asleep.

You leave the piece of paper and close the drawer.

𝄖𝄖

Two days later, you’re back at his place. The guys are all over, making sure the house is ready for a party tonight. Each of them were assigned different tasks to settle to save time. When you arrived, Hoseok made sure to separate Jungkook from you, for the sake of efficiency, so you’re stuck in the kitchen with Jimin. Helping him with the cleaning, you listen mindlessly as he rambles on about something. He yells at every guy that enters and tries to steal some snacks but sneaks some into his mouth when no one’s looking.

Just as you’re done wiping down the chip bowls, Jungkook walks in with dark stains all over his shirt and face. He chugs down half a bottle of orange juice from the fridge before opening a bag of gummies placed on the table for the party which has Jimin groaning.

“What happened to you?”

“Car oil needed changing. Cleaned up under the hood too.”

“What?” Jimin shrieks. “You were working on your car this entire time?”

“Yeah?”

“While the rest of us were preparing for the party? Unbelievable!” He huffs, “You were supposed to fix the first floor bathroom⎼”

Jungkook signals for him to stop, holding up a palm. “Fine, I’ll go do it now.” He reaches out for your hand and continues to nod at everything Jimin says as he tags you along, the nagging fading away as you run upstairs.

“You should really go and help out.” You say, plopping down on his bed with a bounce.

Jungkook hums, “I will. Later.”

Sniffing the shirt he has on, he lets out a disapproving grunt. He removes it in one swoop and tosses it into a basket. You watch quietly as he steps closer, eyes fixed on yours. He leans forward and your hands grip the sheets as you lean back, looking at him expectantly. Then his arm moves past your head and reaches for another shirt on the bed, behind you. He snickers and you slap his shoulder.

“I’m leaving.”

“Aw, come on, don’t go.” He jumps into bed and grabs you. He leans on his side, propped up on his elbow, hand on your middle.

“I have to get some groceries.” You play with his hair. “Then I’m gonna freshen up and come back here in time for the party.”

“Great, I’ll drive you.”

“No, you stay. Fix the bathroom.”

“But I don’t want to.” He groans, and rolls over onto you. Almost naturally, your legs wrap around him and he starts kissing your neck, moving down to your chest, pulling down your shirt. You stop him, giggling. “Why do you always wanna leave when we kiss?” He frowns.

“Why do you always kiss me when I’m leaving?”

“‘Cause I don’t want you to leave."

The smell of your skin makes him smile. It smells like...home.

You feel his weight slowly get heavier on you as his body relaxes and melts into yours, nestling his face into your neck. He almost drifts to sleep with the way you’re rubbing his back. When you ruffle his hair, he lifts his head and claims a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Kookie.”

You giggle as he drops his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. Groaning, he recalls the night Suga found out about the nickname. He has since, constantly used it on Jungkook whenever he can. “He’s never letting that go. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m sorry.” You laugh, chest moving under him. “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

Supporting his weight on one arm, he hovers above you while his free hand brushes past the side of your face. “You don’t remember anything you said that night?”

“No.” That can’t be good. You scan his face. “Why? Did I say something weird?”

“No. Just wondering.” He says gently, expression slowly changing into a smile that makes you forget you were even worried a second ago. “Don’t get drunk anymore. Suga likes you way too much when you’re drunk.”

“Does he?” You laugh, cupping his face. If Suga likes you, you can use this to your advantage. You can’t wait to tell Hana your plan worked.

When Jungkook hears the sound of his name being called from somewhere around the house, he groans and sinks into you again. You push him off you with much difficulty, laughing as he keeps plopping back down into you.

“Okay, they need you. I’m leaving so you can focus. I’ll come back later.” You say, when you finally manage to escape. Reluctantly, he follows behind as you walk down the stairs.

Just as you reach the bottom of the steps, you’re being pulled to the side, against the wall where he corners you into, hands on either side. “I’ll be waiting, so you better show up.” Down your back, up your front, his hands run over your body till they rest just under your jaw, making you lift your chin towards him. Breath hitching in your throat, he carefully brings his lips to yours, teasing a soft touch. Then he lets go.

He smiles like nothing happened and you catch your breath before racing to the front door. You hear a soft chuckle and turn to see him winking at you as he goes in the other direction. Hearing voices from the kitchen where the meeting has started, you quickly close the door behind you, ignoring the pulsing between your thighs.

𝄖𝄖

With a basketful of groceries, you stroll through the store, looking for anything you might have missed out. As you walk, you notice from afar, standing right in front of the refrigerated section your new friend Namjoon. You head straight for him, a little bounce in your step. When you stop right next to him, he turns slowly and carefully.

“Oh. It’s you.” He says as he realises.

“Getting some groceries?” You ask, looking at the shelf then back at him.

“Oh just,” he lifts up a bottle of juice, “getting my orange juice. I see you’re getting your monthly supply. You alone?”

“Yeah I am.” You nod, “My roommate’s busy with school stuff.”

“Right.” He smiles, then it seems like a thought comes to him. “Hey, you’re going for the party tonight right?”

“What? How’d you know about that?” You look at him confused.

“I have friends too you know.”

“But, you can’t come. You’re technically faculty.” You say, putting down your basket to fold your arms in front of you and stare him down. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

He chuckles, then points and holds up a finger in front of you. “Actually, I’m an external instructor. So technically, I’m not faculty.”

“How convenient.” You eye him down.

“Fine, fine.” He sighs. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party, okay? I just wanna mingle.”

“Hm.” You chew on your bottom lip. Seems genuine enough. You can’t help but wonder if he’s there for something else. How will that go down with Jungkook? “An instructor looking to mingle with his students...definitely no red flags there.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, I’m not that much older than you. And I’m not that kinda person.”

“That’s what they all say.” You shrug. “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Cool.” He winks. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks off way too quickly, like he’s avoiding something and heads straight for the checkout counter. Of course you know why he’d go to a college party; the perfect place to sell his drugs. You can’t figure out if you should let Jungkook know about Namjoon. But then again, he almost always knows what’s going on. And he’d be uneasy knowing you know so much.

You pick up your basket off the floor and head for checkout yourself. Barely making ten steps, you notice someone leaning against the side of a shelf, watching you with his arms crossed, mischievous smile on his face. Your other new friend. How coincidental.

“Suga.” You say, a tone way too excited for his liking but he nods anyway. You walk over to him and stand awkwardly before him, holding your basket with both hands in front of you. “Hi.”

“Hey cutie.” He searches for someone behind you. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“Oh he’s back at home.” You smile. “They’re getting ready for rush week. And the party tonight.”

“Am I invited?”

“Oh, um…” You can tell he’s joking, but you can’t be too sure. How interesting would it be to have Jungkook, Namjoon and Suga in one place. You wonder what would happen if they met.

You chuckle nervously without giving an answer and he shrugs it off. “I was kidding.”

“I guess you can come if you want to.” You say with a tiny shrug. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t mind.”

He changes the subject almost immediately, offering to help you carry your basket, which you politely decline. He walks with you to the counter. “So who was that guy you were talking to?”

Oh, he’s an instructor from school and also the new drug dealer in town. “Oh him? He’s the new self-defense instructor on campus.”

“Really?” He looks amused, and bites his bottom lip in a half-smile. “Cool. And you guys are friends?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” You place your basket on the counter and help the cashier to unload the items to scan. You don’t notice the way Suga laughs silently to himself, shaking his head.

“You know what, I gotta go.” Suga says, walking backwards towards the exit. You don’t even manage to reply to him before he takes off. “Let’s drink again sometime soon!”

𝄖𝄖

Hana is less than pleased to know about your run-ins. She looks at you with daggers in her eyes. “You have to stop this. He obviously knows your plan."

"Stop overreacting. How could he possibly know that?"

She shrugs. The loud music drowns out your voices from being overheard by those around you. "It's hard to believe it was a coincidence running into him.” She says and you sigh, choosing to ignore her.

The last you saw Jungkook, he was laughing away with a group of people. You didn’t want to bother him, he’d be busy anyway trying to get freshies on his side. But it’s been a while and now you don’t see him anywhere.

While Hana mingles, you go off to look for him. In the kitchen, you find Jimin doing shots of something that doesn’t look edible with a bunch of guys cheering him on. But no Jungkook. You peek out on the deck out back but he’s not there either. A hand on the sliding doors, you sigh and step out into the courtyard, breathing in air that doesn’t smell like sweat.

You pause when you step down the stairs and spot something, squinting at the sight of two guys in the far end of the backyard, right by the bush-lined fence. Recognising that jacket, you realise one of them is Jungkook. He then pulls something out of his pocket and shakes hands with the other guy. You turn back before he spots you. Probably just a polite handshake. Maybe with an old friend. Yup.

Step back inside, you’re being stopped by a hand on your arm. “You look flustered.” He says.

“Hi Hoseok.” You force a smile. “It’s warm in here.”

His eyes flicker over to the backyard and back at you. “This is what he does at parties. It’s how he distributes them.”

“So?” You look around uncomfortably.

“I know you don’t like it either.” He stops you before you can reply. “Can you meet me outside in ten minutes? It’s important.”

“You’re already here, what is it? No one’s paying any attention to us anyway.”

“I can’t.”

The sceptical look you give him has him feeling restless. “Trust me, it’s very important.”

From the tone of his voice, he sounds sincere. You don’t want to, but do you want to risk not knowing something that could help you help Jungkook? You hate this. After a long pause, you nod reluctantly. “Fine.”

Neither of you realised the two figures approaching until they’re walking up the steps. Hoseok and you share a look, as if pleading to the other to act normal. As they reach the door, you see now that Jae is the other guy. He greets you as he walks past, then blends into the crowd. Behind him, Jungkook spares you a curious look at the little exchange. He then notices Hoseok’s presence.

“What’s going on?” He looks back and forth at the two of you. “You look upset.”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m fine.” You muster up your best smile. “We were just talking about the guy who puked in the sink earlier.”

“Speaking of which, I should go make sure he’s not puking elsewhere.” Hoseok says, taking his leave.

You can’t tell if Jungkook bought that but he doesn’t question it. His demeanour changes as soon as Hoseok leaves, directing his attention on you. “He wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“No.” You smile. “I ran into him while looking for some food.”

“Oh⎼”

He doesn’t get a chance to continue when someone he knows slaps him on the back. They chat for a while as he keeps you close next to him, even when you try to pry his fingers off. The other guy drags him somewhere but before he goes, he turns to you. “Grab some food and meet me upstairs, I’ll just be a second.” He winks, stealing a kiss.

“You don’t have to. I’ll just come find you later on it’s fine𝄖”

“You’re not getting rid of me babe.” He jokes and you let out an awkward laugh as he goes.

You haven’t mastered being in two places at once, you’re not a ninja. And in a few minutes, Hoseok will be waiting for you outside. And Jungkook upstairs. You groan, searching the cabinets for some snacks before heading up to Jungkook’s room.

That’s when you notice a familiar blond head among the crowd you. It distracts you. You could’ve sworn that was Suga. But too many people are blocking your line of sight. As you reach the spot you had possibly seen him, he’s gone. You don’t have time to think about this. Swiftly, you run up the steps and head right for Jungkook’s door. And of course, a familiar face exits the washroom on the same floor.

“Namjoon.”

“Why do you look so surprised to see me?” He raises a brow with a playful smile on his face. “I told you I was coming.

You shake your head and look behind you. “Nothing I was just⎼”

“Hogging all the snacks?” He gestures towards the food you’re cradling in your arms and you laugh.

“There’s more downstairs.” You reassure him.

As if on cue, footsteps move swiftly up the stairs and you glance behind to find Jungkook halfway up, a cautious look on his face as he approaches you. Namjoon nods politely. For a moment it’s like you can no longer hear the music blasting, enveloped by the awkward silence.

“Uh, Jungkook this is Namjoon.” You notice the way his jaw clenches as he takes Namjoon’s outstretched hand in his. “And this is Jungkook.”

“The boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He flashes a blinding smile Jungkook’s way.

“Likewise.”

Namjoon reads the room well and you’re thankful for it. He excuses himself, saving you from having to grease the conversation any further. “See you guys around.” He says, leaving.

Jungkook opens the door for you and you drop the snacks on his table. His fingers immediately wrap around you, lifting you up and throwing you onto the bed. “Finally." He mutters pulling you in.

You giggle nervously as he kisses you all over, pulling away from him. He shoots you a confused look. "Wait I...need the toilet."

He throws his head back but moves aside to let you go. "Okay. I'll wait."

Hurrying out, you close the door and run downstairs, rushing past the sea of bodies to the front door. Once outside, you look around scanning the few faces there for him. Hoseok stands around the corner at the side of the house and calls out your name.

The front and back of the house is well lit, but not the sides. Both of you stand in the shadows by the wall, waiting for him to speak. But he doesn't, instead, he looks around anxiously.

"Hoseok, what is it? You said this is important!" You hiss. "I can't be too long, Jungkook's waiting for me."

"Just give him a second, he'll be here."

"Who?"

"He's here." His eyes focus on a man wearing a navy sweatshirt, hoodie pulled up so you can't really see who it is. He only pulls it down when he joins you in the shadows.

"Hi."

"Y/N, this is Seokjin. He works with my friend."

"Oh. Hello." You watch him curiously. If you could describe a smile as being trustworthy, it would be his.

"Thanks for meeting me," he starts, "I’ll make it quick. It's about a case I'm sure the two of you are familiar with. Actually, I'm here to speak to you, Y/N."

"Me?" You ask, worrying.

"As you know we have an agent working undercover. He's seen you around and since you know about this operation, he’s worried you might get too close, given your relationship with one of the suspects involved. We want to make sure you stay out of it as much as possible."

"But I'm not doing anything to jeopardise the operation."

"We know." He nods, "But still, we have to emphasise that these people are dangerous. You do not want to get involved. You shouldn’t know about this operation in the first place, but nothing we can do about that now.”

Hoseok’s eyes downcast and hands hide in his pockets, knowing he wasn’t supposed to reveal anything to you. “He’s okay right?” He asks softly.

“He’s fine. He personally contacted me to speak with you. And he’s sorry he hasn’t answered his phone, it’s too risky.”

“Who’s this guy again? Do I know him?” You ask.

“You already know too much as it is. I can’t reveal the name of our agent. We can’t risk him getting exposed, it could cost him his life.”

Silence ensues. It’s uncomfortable to think about how someone could literally die from an unfortunate slip of the tongue. You wait for someone to diffuse the tension. Hoseok looks like he’s in thought, opening his mouth to speak then stopping. Seokjin beats him to it. “In case it’s not clear enough, your plan ends here Y/N.”

How does he⎼ oh. So that’s why Hoseok looks troubled. You stare him down and mutter through clenched teeth. “You told him.”  

“I didn’t mean to!” He spits out. “When Seokjin called me earlier, I got reminded of you. I had to tell him. And I know you wouldn’t listen to me anyway, so I got him to come here.”

“Listen. I just want to help Jungkook, that’s all.” You sigh. “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“I get it. Hoseok’s explained it to me.” It’s Seokjin’s turn to sigh. “Doesn’t matter what your intentions are, it’s best if you stay away.”

You look helplessly over at Hoseok, then reluctantly agree with a nod. “I’ll try.”

“No, you see, this isn’t a request. It’s an order. There is a chance you’ll get convicted as part of the group if you don’t keep your distance. Is that what you want?”

“No. But𝄖”

“Good, so we’re on the same page.”

“No, we’re not.” Huffing, you step closer to him. “I’m not doing this for fun. I’m trying to get my boyfriend out of there.”

“I understand. But there’s no telling what could happen. Let us handle it. If he’s innocent, then you don’t have anything to worry about. The most important thing here is that you don’t end up getting caught up in the mess. Do you really want to be associated with criminals?”

“Jungkook’s not a criminal.”

Seokjin holds up his hands in a surrender. “That’s not what I meant.”

Hoseok gulps, gently touching your arm. “Y/N please. Let them handle it.”

“I am letting them handle it.” You say stubbornly before turning back to Seokjin. “Look, I’m just here for Jungkook. Tell that to your guy. I won’t stand in the way of the operation.”

“You do know that this is all off the record?” Seokjin starts, “That means even though our undercover, as well as I, am aware that you’re not involved, if by any chance you’re caught with drugs or anything illegal at the time of the raid, you might get convicted. There will be no records to show that you’re innocent.”

“I understand.”

“Alright.” Seokjin pulls his hoodie back up. Now you can only faintly see the bottom half of his face. “Take care. Remember, no one else can know about this.”

He takes off in quick steps, round the corner and down the street. Hoseok fidgets in his spot, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t make him do this to scare you or anything. Promise.”

“I know, Hoseok.” You smile softly. “But you get it right? Why I’m doing this?”

“Yeah...” he trails off for a moment, then continues. “You saw him earlier didn’t you?”

“I did.” You shake your head with a sigh, “Trust me okay? I’m doing everything I can to help Jungkook, like you wanted me to.”

“I never wanted this. I don’t want you to get hurt if things don’t go as planned.”

“Whatever happens after, I’ll deal with it then.”

𝄖𝄖

Feeling numb, the walk back upstairs feels like you’re on autopilot, barely hearing the buzzing of the crowd. You take a deep breath before turning the knob of Jungkook’s door, willing yourself to forget the last ten minutes ever happened. He’d read you like a book in this state.

But your bright smile is wasted on an empty room.

“Jungkook?”

𝄖𝄖

The next day, you're sitting on the running track, soaked in sweat after a long session of track and field. The coach bids his goodbye as the team continues their cooling down stretches. Hana plops down next to you. “So?”

“What?”

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, picking dirt off of your cheek with her thumb. “You seemed really out of it last night. Barely spoke the whole day today…”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Just thinking.”

You decided not to tell her about Seokjin and everything that was said last night. For now at least. She already has reservations about your plan as it is, telling her about Seokjin would just freak her out even more.

“Jungkook called you yet?”

“Mhm.” Technically it was a text, wishing you good morning with a kissy face emoji. Not wanting to make a big deal out of the night before, you reply as you normally would. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just tired actually.”

She hangs an arm over your shoulder and gives you a side hug. “No more parties for you.”

“Yeah they’re kinda lame aren’t they?” You laugh.

After grabbing your stuff, you’re headed for the locker room. You're too deep in thought to realise the girls on your team giggling around you. It isn't until Hana nudges you then nods to bleachers that you realise your boyfriend is waiting for you. He salutes the other ladies with a winning smile as they walk off, before getting off his butt.

The girls mutter quietly, and you hear the words lucky and they're so cute as they leave you. Hana waves to Jungkook before walking ahead. Jungkook trots down the steps and lifts you in a hug.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles, swaying you side to side, “not the first time I have you all sweaty in my arms.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs, then starts swinging your hands as you walk back. “Hey sorry about last night."

"Oh it’s fine. Don't worry about it." You say, with a shake of your head, looking at the ground. "You're a busy man, I know."

"Can I make it up to you? Tonight?"

"Alright." You nod. "I gotta shower first though. And you have to give me a ride back to get some fresh clothes."

"No need to dress up."

"But I want to." You pout and he chuckles.

The sound of whistling and yelling coming from the field gets your attention. It's the soccer team, practice still ongoing. It only just occurred to you that you haven't seen Jungkook there in a while.

"Why aren't you practicing with them anymore? Did you quit?"

Jungkook looks at you with an amused look on his face. "Y/N, I was never part of the team."

"Huh?" You stop in your tracks. "I'm pretty sure I've seen you on that field running after the ball."

"Yeah but I was never really on the team." He reiterates. Now you're confused. "I only practiced with them so I could watch you during track and field."

"What?"

"Have you forgotten? I'm on the basketball team."

Honestly, you hadn’t made the connection that it’s impossible for him to be on both the soccer and basketball teams until now. "No wait, you joined them just to watch me?"

"Yes and no?" He shrugs proudly. "At first it was because I got kicked off the basketball team. Then we started dating. I got to see you every practice. Then I got reinstated on the basketball team. And I didn't wanna stop seeing you during practice so I kept going. Until now."

"Jungkook that is𝄖"

"Sweet?"

"Lowkey creepy."

He lets out a tiny gasp with a look of betrayal on his face. "But...I wanted to see you."

You laugh at the utter disappointment he shows and pat his face, though it feels like a light slap, before running off making him chase after you.

𝄖𝄖

Laying on the hood of his car, with his arm under your neck, Jungkook listens to you talk about anything and everything. In your favourite spot, parked by the beach so you get the cool breeze and the gentle sound of waves crashing onto the shore.

He enjoys listening to you talk about your life; what your childhood was like, what kind of trouble you used to get into, your family. It’s like peeling off a new layer every time. Who knew you used to bully the bully as a kid? And let’s not forget that time you got detention for smoking in school but you only did it to get your dad’s attention so that he would stop dating the evil girlfriend who threatened to send you off to boarding school.

“Baby are you...a troublemaker?” He muses and you laugh.

“Well I was. I grew out of it.” You shrug and look up at him. “Kinda.”

“Would’ve never guessed. You’re so shy. And good.”

“Yeah. Once I realised how my behaviour was affecting people’s liking towards me, I changed.”

He smiles tenderly at you, always so full of surprises. You play with the hem of his sweater, then look up at him. “What about you? You haven’t told me anything about your past.”

Not once has he shared his own stories. You never asked because you didn’t want to pressure him. But you’re almost out of stories yourself.

Jungkook looks up at the sky for a while. You sense the hesitance. “There’s nothing much to say.”

“What about...your family? Do you have any siblings?”

There’s no reply, only the sound of the waves crashing and a distant laughter from a group of friends on the beach. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Propping yourself up on your elbow, you see now the faint sparkle in his eyes. Could be the cool breeze making his eyes water. He blinks it away when you stare. “We can talk about other things.”

He smiles as his eyes scan your face before you’re snuggling into his side again. “I like hearing your stories.”

“But I’ve told you everything.”

“What about your first kiss?”

You groan. “I’ve told you that one. It was during camp. He pushed me into the lake after that because it was all a dare.”

“Oh right and then you threw all his clothes into the lake as revenge.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “It was pretty funny.”

He laughs thinking about tiny Y/N lugging a big bag full of clothes and dumping it into a lake as the owner yells in horror. Who knew you had it in you. You’re always so calm and by the book, it’s almost like a whole other person.

“Can you tell me about your tattoo?” You look up at him.

He smirks, turning his head to the side towards the arm it’s on. It’s a tiger head on the upper bicep of his right arm. Made up of shapes, lines, squiggles, it has sharp piercing eyes. It’s beautiful, really. “It’s just something to represent my loyalty towards my brothers.”  

You’ve never seen this mark on the other frat boys, so you assume he’s talking about his other group of brothers. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Mhm.” It’s tough to crack him. He never reveals more than what he thinks you need to know.

After a while, you pluck up the courage to ask him about the job. “Have you thought about what we discussed?” You ask softly, playing with his fingers.

“What did we discuss?”

“About the job,” you remove yourself from him again and this time get on your knees, “about me working at the club?”

He sighs, looking at you like the stubborn teenager in your stories. “I already told you no.”

“You won’t even consider it.” You pout.

He smiles, surprisingly. “After careful consideration, I regret to inform you that you’ve been rejected. You don't have what it takes.”

“Rude!” You huff, “I have all that it takes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I’m tough.” You spit out. You strike an awkward pose, doing something weird with your arms. “I have swag.”

It makes him laugh so hard he starts tearing and almost choke on his saliva. Embarrassed, you laugh along, hitting him on his chest. Cheeks hurting from all that, he opens his arms. “Come here you.”

You drop into him, mostly to hide your face in his shoulder. He holds you tight, a content sigh escapes him as he does. “I love you so much.” He says into your ear.

Lifting your head up to face him, he smiles tenderly at you, softly tracing a finger over your face, the lulling movement making your eyes flutter shut.

𝄖𝄖

“You got a problem with me?” Namjoon says to the smaller guy.

Suga smirks bitterly, unimpressed by how the new guy has no respect whatsoever towards him. “I do actually. What’s your deal?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You appear out nowhere, get dispatched to our district. Same area as Jungkook no less...are you trying to replace us?”

“Hey, I didn’t choose the location.” Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe if you guys didn’t suck so bad they wouldn’t have asked me to secure the bags.”

He braces himself as Suga lunges forward, shoving him against the wall, his collar bunched up in clenched fists. Surprisingly strong for a small dude. “You don’t come work for us and talk shit about us to my face.”

Namjoon tugs on his clothes, pulling them out of Suga’s grip. He clears his throat and tries to calm himself. “My bad. Next time I’ll do it behind your back.”

“What are you up to? You took a job on campus, why? Jungkook’s already got that covered.”

“Like I said, I didn’t choose to. I was sent there.” He steps forward, making Suga take a few steps back.

“Liar.”

“Look if you have a problem with it, take it up with the lieutenant.” Namjoon walks off, angering the other guy even more. The nerve of this new kid makes his blood boil. There’s something off about him, there’s no way the bosses would send a new guy in for no reason.

He stomps his way into Kyun’s office, slamming the door behind him. Kyun looks up, sees him, and goes back to his laptop. “What?”

“Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that RM guy?” Suga says, pulling up a chair.

“No. Why?”

“He’s so full of himself.”

“Name one person working here that isn’t,” Kyun says, “besides, you should be thankful I assigned him to you. Jungkook’s been slacking.”

“I told you, the school’s keeping an eye on him. He’s taking it slow.”

Suga can’t remember how many times he’s used that excuse. He can’t come right out and admit that Jungkook has in fact been slacking. Or rather, distracted. Not to mention the time Jungkook considered leaving all of this behind. It’s no surprise the lieutenant’s picked up on it.

“Whatever.” Kyun mutters, obviously tired of having this conversation.

“Wait,” the wheels in Suga’s head turn and he looks curiously at his lieutenant, “you’re not doubting Jungkook are you? Did you send RM in to replace him?”

“If Jungkook’s doing a good job like you seem to think he is, why would you be worried about this?”

Suga purses his lips, “He’s fine. He hasn’t missed any of his shifts. I couldn’t have gotten shit done at the club without him.”

“Numbers are still low though.”

“That’s because you’ve got the new kid stealing all his buyers.”

“RM’s good and the staff there seem to trust him. He stays.”

“Fine. Then get off Jungkook’s back about his numbers. He can’t sell drugs the same as before if you have another dealer there competing with him.”

Kyun thinks about it for a minute, then nods. “Alright fine. Anyway, it’s good that you’re here now. I can run through what boss wants you to get up and running at the club.”

It hits Suga that Kyun having doubts about Jungkook is bad news, at least, if word travels up the hierarchy. While Jungkook had promised to keep up, Suga intends to make sure he actually does. He can’t afford anymore slip-ups. Or distractions, in the form of you. He can’t let anything happen to Jungkook.

𝄖𝄖

Sneaking back into the house at such an ungodly hour, you guide Jungkook in the dark, careful not to make a sound.

Back in your room, his jacket and shirt are the first to go. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, lips not parting from each other.

Slipping under your shirt, he unhooks your bra and pulls your shirt with it over your head. Lips smiling on yours, his hands knead your breasts and you feel your nerves reacting. He trails wet kisses down your front, fingers undoing your jeans and pulling them off in a single swoop.

He removes his own pair of jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Then, kneeling by your legs, he gently peels your panties off, taking in the view of your naked body, lighted up by the warm yellow of your nightlight. If he could, he’d engrave this image of you in his head.

His eyes wide and lustful, they trail over you. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

Hovering above you, he strokes the side of your face, before pressing his body to yours in a soft gentle kiss. He moves so gently, like you could break at any moment. When your hands wrap around his neck, he grabs hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You let out a soft whimper.

Jungkook takes his time, showering your skin with kisses. Starting from your neck down to your navel. He licks one side of your breast, teasingly drawing circles with his tongue along the nipple, then gives the same attention to the other. Your breathing gets hitched in your throat, feeling the blood rush down south.

He brings his mouth lower, hands now occupying your breasts where his mouth was. It sends you butterflies the way his hot breath brushes against your skin. There’s something different about the way he’s touching you tonight.

He spares some kisses down your inner thighs and watches the way goosebumps appear as they try to clam up reflexively.

Hands on your thighs, he pushes them apart and runs a teasing lick over your folds. Then his tongue finds its way to your clit, flicking it gently before his lips wrap around it and he starts gently sucking. You jolt and take in a sharp breath grabbing a fishful of the sheets.

His fingers delicately touch your folds, running a teasing finger over your entrance. Looking up from between your thighs, he watches the way you steady your breaths, eyes closed, brows furrowed.

It doesn’t last long and when you open your eyes, he’s hovering over you, licking his lips. Very eagerly you pull down the hem of his boxers, exposing his hard cock. His own fingers wrap around it, stroking himself gently as he reaches for a bottle of lube. He stares at you with a look you can’t read.

“Something on your mind?” You voice out.

He shakes his head with a gentle smile and takes his position between your legs, your thighs over his. Aligning himself with your entrance, he grips your ankles on either side. Slowly, he enters and you will yourself not to make a sound at the initial stretch.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace, watching intently the way he moves in and out of you. You can’t help but to stare at him and the way his abs clench every time he moves his hips into you. The flexing of his arms every now and then, keeping your legs steady. And the way the warm light casts shadows dancing over his body as he moves.

“Jungkook.” You call out for him, so softly.

He releases your ankles and leans forward, resting his body on yours. Pressing his forehead to you, he admires the look of lust in your eyes and the way you’re biting your bottom lip. “Yes, my love?”

Your fingers run over his face. You’re too occupied with the pleasure of him inside you that your brain refuses to put your thoughts into words. He chuckles when you only manage a breathy smile instead.

Your wrists get pinned over your head once again, and he watches you from above. Every thrust is deep and filling, his hips moving expertly to give you just the right amount of pleasure, leaving you a hot mess beneath him.

You look absolutely breathtaking to him; the parting of your lips, eyes shut and shaky breaths. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. He lets out a low guttural sound and presses his body to yours, devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hips pick up speed, grinding into you with calculated moves. You get lost in each other, a mixture of your quick breaths filling the room. The look in his eyes is mirrored in yours, waves of emotions flowing between both your bodies and soul.

Jungkook can’t describe his feelings for you. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time; warmth, love, trust, acceptance. All he knows is to tell you he loves you and hopes you get it.

Your eyes get misty as you let your own emotions get to you, feeling the twinge in your chest when you look at him.

Arms wrapping around his waist, your tongues dance between your lips. He knows all the right spots to leave you breathless. You feel it building in the pit of your stomach, and pull away from the kiss, no longer in control of your actions.

Jungkook feels it too, sensing the pressure between your hips as they wrap tightly around him. He steadies himself and gives you long, deep strokes, as he watches your breaths get quicker. The euphoric look on your face earns a grunt of approval from him.

Not wanting to hold back any longer, his hips grind into yours at a quicker pace, feeling himself reaching his release. His mouth latches on to your nipple, sucking it for a second before he hears small whines leaving you, signalling you’re close.

Willing yourself to keep your eyes open, you place a hand on the side of his face, making sure his eyes stay on yours. It gets blurrier with the way tears start to fill your eyes. “I love you.” You blurt out in a whisper and he rests his forehead on yours as he thrusts hard, one which makes your insides squirm.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you. A single tear rolls down the side of your face as you start to reach your high. “I love you Y/N.”  He breathes out against your lips before capturing you in a kiss. With one hard thrust, you find yourself succumbing to the pressure in your middle, unravelling a wave of pleasure that courses through your entire body, chest rising towards him and hands keeping him close.

Watching you, he reaches his own climax, hips bucking wildly into yours, and you feel his warm release spilling inside you, his moans lost in the kiss. It takes a while before his hips slow down into a gentle rhythm. Your body goes limp as you ride it out, drained of energy.

He catches his breath with his head on yours and when you finally catch each other’s eyes, you share a giggle. He shines in his afterglow, a look of pure bliss on his face. But he could say the same for you, thumb running over your cheek to wipe off the tear stains.

In that moment, it feels as if you’re staring right into his soul. He stares back at you, as if trying to say something more than what’s been said, worrying once again about conveying what’s in his heart. But you just smile back.

“I know, Jungkook. I know. I love you too.”

[lunarliza]

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter 3: Bandanas

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter | chapter one

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl?

Your eyes peeled open. You groaned at the lack of sleep as you shifted to your bedside table to check your phone. Almost immediately after your rendezvous the night before, JJ dashed out the window, leaving you to drift to sleep. 

Sometimes, you’d get this weird feeling after he would leave so quickly- like you were being used. Well, you were, but you hated feeling like it. It was like a comedown after the euphoria of sex and it didn’t always feel the best, but you dealt with it. It had be going on for almost three months; you were way too in over your head at this point. 

You sighed, staring at the wall across your bed, thinking back to the remnants of that first night. How nasty and humid the air felt as you both rejoined the party after like nothing happened: 

“You can’t tell anyone about what just happened,” JJ stated as he fixed his shorts. 

His words did pierce you slightly, but you put on a front nevertheless. “Please, I’d rather be caught dead than with you.” 

He chuckled to himself as you both trudged down the beach. “That’s not what I heard back there princess.” 

It didn’t take long for your parents to blow up your phone that night, seeing it was 3 a.m. and their daughter was nowhere to be found. You came home with the smell of alcohol emitting through your clothes.You only hoped you had wiped off enough smeared mascara on the car ride home to deter them. Your mother read you the riot act as Ted stood in the corner of the kitchen. She screamed and hollered before her palm finally came in contact with your cheek. 

The following Monday, you ditched last period and drove over to The Cut, hoping to come across JJ. Driving along a narrow street, you see the shirtless golden boy mowing the lawn in a small yard. Pulling up, you rolled the windows down while a devilish grin snaked its way to his lips once he caught sight of you.

“Couldn’t stay away from me huh?”

You glared at him. “Just shut up and get in.” 

Shutting off the lawn mower, he hopped in your car, smelling of sweat and freshly cut grass . 

“Look,” you began, fiddling with the ends of your blouse, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” 

JJ’s finger tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. It was different seeing them in broad daylight. He didn’t seem like some sleazy Pogue you met at a party. He actually reminded you of a puppy... an annoying one with anger issues. 

“I understand if-” 

“No, I get you,” he answered, biting his lower lip. “After the way we fucked that night, I’m down to... go at it again.” 

“Okay but we need rules,” you insisted to which he rolled his eyes. “What’s with chicks and rules?” 

“This island is small and talk gets around. No one can know about us.” 

“Well duh.” He gave you an annoyed look. “You may think you’re all that and a bag of chips but my friends would totally clown me if they found out I was with a Kook, much less you.” 

“Oh please! What do you even know about me?” you retorted, not having his attitude outburst. 

“Y/n, you’re like bitchiest of them all,” he replied snarkily and your eyes met the ceiling of your car. “Not even the Kooks like you.” 

“Shut up, asshole.” You tried to hide the hurt from the fact that even he knew about your reputation. “Anyways, rule number two: we have to meet on Figure Eight.” 

“Hell no, why do I have to haul my ass to you?” 

You sighed heavily, gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. “My stepdad will literally kill me if he finds me here. Look, I know all the hiding places there and I’ll even get you a keycard to get in through the gate.” 

JJ smiled to himself. “Kill you huh? And yet, here you are, coming here, practically begging for me to fuck you. What will daddy think about that?” 

You contemplated punching him in that moment. “Don’t flatter yourself. You followed me that night remember?” 

JJ shrugged, leaning back in the seat. “I thought you were a touron. It was dark- sue me. Anyways, fine! We meet at the Eight. Anything else?” 

“This goes without saying, but absolutely no feelings,” you stated sternly as JJ snorted. 

“Oh princess, you do not have to worry about that whatsoever.” 

“Fine then, it’s a deal.” 

You both shook on it. JJ held onto your hand a moment longer to tug you onto the passenger seat, colliding his lips with yours. It didn’t take you both very long to undress and climb into the back seat afterwards.

A loud knock on your bedroom door startled you. “Y/n! Breakfast in ten minutes!” 

Peeling off your duvet, you leaped out of bed and started doing some small stretches until you noticed a jumbled up grey bandana on your window seat. 

“Fucking kid,” you muttered to yourself before reaching for it and throwing it in a bin on your shelf. 

JJ was klepto alright. He also had a terrible habit of leaving shit everywhere he went. If he tried to rob a bank, he’d be caught in seconds because he’d leave some trace of him. Over the course of your agreement you unintentionally started making a collection of the things he left. What started out as a bracelet on your nightstand grew to socks, lighters, hats, sunglasses, tank tops, and the occasional perfectly rolled joint (that he’d never see again). You always meant to give back all the shit he left, but he’d always leave so hurriedly that you’d forget and the collection would just grow. 

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

“Jade!” you blurted unexpectedly as you strolled into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” 

The small brunette sat next to your mother at the table, halfway done with her breakfast plate. She flashed you her killer sunny smile as your mom chimed in from her seat. “Jade here was in the neighborhood and wanted to take you on a boat ride this morning with the Cameron family.” 

“It’ll be fun y/n!” she insisted, kicking her tiny legs that didn’t reach the floor.

You were a little confused as to why you were invited to hang out with the Cameron kids seeing as they have always ignored you at school and every event. Jade caught on and threw you a look that said ‘just go with it’. 

“Um, yeah. I’m really excited to hang out with uh- Sierra and Ra- her brother,” you babbled, earning yourself an ‘Are you fucking kidding me’ look. You shrugged your shoulders, helping yourself to some eggs and pancakes. 

“Well sweetie, I think it’s great that you’re getting to know more people around here! Don’t forget you do need an escort for the Debutante Ball in a few weeks so maybe you can ask the Cameron boy to take you,” your mother suggested and Jade nearly spit out her fruit at the mention of it.  

You closed your eyes, sighing. “Yes, of course mother.” 

“So when were you going to tell me you’re a debutante!” Jade cackled as you both made way to the Camerons’ boat along the dock.  

“If you ever mention it again, I will personally slit your throat.” 

“You! You y/n of all people!” She had to suppress her laughter to a fit of giggles. “So wait, you’ve been going to Chapel Hill all this time to learn how to ballroom dance and do all that?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes! I told you my mother is actually insane. Anyways, what are we doing hanging out with the Camerons anyways? I thought you hated their sister.” 

“I do,” Jade responded as-a-matter-of-factly, “It’s the brother that’s delicious. Oh- and Sarah won’t be there and neither will their dad or any of their family really. It’s just going to be Rafe and a couple of his friends. He told me to bring some friends too so it won’t be awkward.” 

“And you chose me of all people? Jade, you have plenty of other very sociable friends you could have brought.” 

“Shut up y/n! You’re hot as shit okay! You just need to get out there more and meet people. Maybe then you won’t hate it here so much. Trust me, once you experience the OBX the right way, you’ll absolutely love it.” 

You crinkled your nose at her. “You’re just as insane as my mother.”  

“Come on! There are hot guys wanting to take us on their very nice boats. It’s free drinks and maybe some food,” she promised. 

You groaned. “Fine, but if any of them make an unsolicited move on me, I’m jumping overboard and swimming home. Also, now that I think about it, isn’t Rafe like way too old to be hanging around us?” 

Jade shrugged. “A little age never hurt nobody.” The boys whooped as Jade made her grand entrance onto their very large white boat as you trailed behind. Another thing you weren’t well versed in since moving here- boats. To you it was just big and small, windows and no windows, motor and no motor, but it was like a language here. When everyone would start rambling off about engines and fishing and whatnot you would just kindly smile and nod until they got the hint and walked away. 

“Who’s your friend McCoy?” a tall boy with slicked back hair asked Jade as he enclosed an arm around her waist. 

“Rafe, this is y/n! She moved here in October and lives on the east end of the Eight.” 

So this was the famous Rafe Cameron. You’d seen him a couple times golfing with Ted when you would hide away in the golf cart on your phone. Ted would mention a few times about how he was trouble and, telling by the way he still hung out with high schoolers at almost 20 years old, you believed it. 

You smiled uneasily and gave him a tiny wave as two other guys emerged from the front with a cooler. They both coordinated with the colorful short-shorts and printed button ups. They also wore those God-awful tinted sunglasses with the band connecting the backs. You recognized them from school- Topper and Kelce.

“Oh hey y/n,” they greeted tensely, each giving you an awkward smile and one-armed hug. You were in shock they knew your name even.

“McCoy, did you bring anyone else?” Kelce asked, totally not making it obvious of your unwanted presence. 

Not even the Kooks like you. 

You knew you’d have a hard time the moment you stepped foot onto Figure Eight. You had a very humble upbringing, which was unfathomable to the kids at school, so it was hard for you to make any real friends besides Jade. During the school year, you ate lunch by yourself and sprinted home as soon as the final bell rang. It got to a point where, when anyone would try to talk to you, you’d either roll your eyes or just simply ignore them. 

“Nope! Just me and my girl.” Jade flung an arm around your shoulder and handed you a beer. She raised her eyebrows at you to check if you were okay, and you smiled reassuringly, taking the bottle. 

“Let’s hope she knows how to hang,” Topper added as he started the engine on the boat. 

You sipped on your beer as you rode down the marsh. Kelce tried to make small talk with you as Topper drove and Jade macked on Rafe. It actually wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, Kelce did have the occasional funny story or witty thing to say even if it was about swinging a golf club or purchasing some extravagant item no one ever needed. 

“Woah Pogue alert,” you heard Topper warn as he steered next to a smaller boat hanging on the side

You glanced over and immediately met eyes with JJ who was casually laying back with his friends- two dudes and a girl. When he wasn’t acting like a complete jerk, he actually looked down to earth and kind of innocent. Cans of cheap beer littered their deck and a cute little ‘HMS Pogue’ lettering hung from the back. 

You turned back to Kelce, thinking it was just a quick pass by until you heard something thump on the side of the boat from their side. 

“Fucking rats!” Rafe barked at the group and hurled an open can of beer over towards them. 

“That’s for the van you sons of bitches!” you heard JJ holler as Topper slowed down the boat so they were eye-to-eye. 

“Hey that’s payback! I know it was you that fucked up my bike, filthy Pogue!” Topper snarled, pointing at JJ, tumbling more shit in their direction. 

The throwing escalated into an all-out war. You screamed and joined Jade who was clearly outraged as she ducked under the cooler for cover. 

“Rafe, just fucking drop it and let’s go! You’re wasting shit at this point,” she urged also throwing Topper a stern look to get moving.  

“This isn’t over!” Rafe roared at the group as Topper sped up the engine again. 

“That’s right, just ride along you fucking Kooks! And take your hoes with you!” JJ shouted. 

You threw a glare his way at the vulgar name he called you and stuck up middle fingers his way, sailing off. 

Fucking tool. 

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

chapter four

tags: @starkeybaby​ @obxlife​ @everydayimfangirling​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @tangledinsparkles​ @poguesrforlife​​ @thx-quxxn​ @obxmxybxnk​ @rororo06​ @poguesforlife​ @ilymarkchan​

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 27: Extreme Weather

CW: Environmental whump, references to drug and alcohol use, references to Derrick (see: The Break-Up for his last appearance), Kauri’s Bad Life Choices, slut-shaming, trauma response, untreated abuse survivor with fucky headspace, referenced abuse

When Krista opens the door, Kauri stands on the doorstep to her apartment soaked to the bone, water dripping off the flattened curls of his hair, stuck to his forehead. Water runs in rivulets down his cheeks like tears, drips from the sleeves of his sweater onto her doormat.

She’s proud of that doormat. She picked it out at Target and it says Shoes Off, Witches. 

Krista decorates for every holiday, because she can, because the holidays belong to her. There are tiny pumpkins, alternately white and orange and painted with little patterns, lined up along the little railing on their concrete patio. She has little witch figurines in the centerpiece of the circular dining table she and Sonya found at a garage sale, and a Halloween wreath made of black and orange leaves hangs on the door.  

Mrs. Richardson didn’t celebrate Halloween, because of something to do with celebrating our sinful natures and something something demonic influences hidden in seeming fun and the devil something harry potter witchcraft something, but Krista celebrates every holiday, just because she can.

Sometimes she thinks of Miss Alyssa and wonders if she celebrates Halloween, now, too.

“What are you doing here, Kauri?” Krista squints past him, shivering against the chill air even in her big soft purple sweatshirt. It had cost her six hours of work to pay for it, it was so expensive, but it’s the softest thing she’s ever felt in her life, like wearing a cloud with a hood on it everywhere she goes. 

“Can I crash here?” Kauri blinks rainwater out of his eyes. 

Behind him, the rainstorm that’s been going for nearly three days continues, pouring water like it’s falling from overturned buckets from the dark gray skies. “Sorry, they shut the buses down, it’d take me like five hours to walk to the shelter from here, and…” He rocks up and down on the balls of his feet, and Krista winces at the squelch from his thin black-and-white checked shoes. 

Krista takes a deep breath, looking over her shoulder. Sonya is still in the bedroom, finishing up a call for work, speaking in her Phone Voice, softer and pleasant, with all the edges sanded off. When Krista was a pet, she spoke in a voice like that. Sonya speaks for her job to men who constantly interrupt her, but somehow when she does it, the voice is gentle but commanding, where Krista always felt her voice just sounded… weak. “I don’t know, Kauri, I’m not… I’m not sure.”

“Please?” Kauri’s eyes are huge and blue, and water frames them as it runs from his hair. He shudders, as a winter breeze blows at his back. A spatter of the tiniest water droplets is blown with it, and Krista blinks rapidly against the feeling. “Please? It’s just for tonight, they said the buses should be running tomorrow morning if it doesn’t get worse… please?”

“If it doesn’t get worse,” Krista repeats, her eyes scanning back into the parking lot. Someone drives past, their headlights on, and the rain falls in such thick sheets that Krista can only see their headlights, not even the car.

Who would drive, in something like this?

She looks back at Kauri, and figures maybe someone who would walk in rain like this, someone who doesn’t have a choice. Not every business is closed, after all, and not everyone can work from their laptop like Sonya. Not everyone can afford the days off if they call in. There are people who don’t have the option to stay safe from the floods. There are people who are told to risk their lives or they will not eat. 

There are times Krista wonders how anyone doesn’t become a pet. At least she never had to watch a paycheck disappear from a bank account nearly as soon as it was deposited before.

Not that she knows of, anyway.

“It’s just overnight,” Kauri says, softly. “I know she doesn’t like me, but… but it’s just one night.”

She looks at him, in his soaked-up shoes, shivering in the rain and with his backpack dripping as hard as everything else, and then she sighs. The felt leaves on the Halloween wreath rustle against the door as she steps back and to the side. “Take your shoes off and stay on the mat, I’ll get you a towel to get you to the shower. I think you can probably wear some of my sleeping clothes.”

Kauri’s eyes brighten, and he kicks off his sopping shoes and peels off soaked-through white cotton socks. His toes are wrinkled from being wet for so long, and he spreads them with a sigh of relief against the rough doormat. 

“Thank you, Krista, thank you so much-”

“Get inside,” She says, but her voice is gentle, and he steps in to stand on the inside doormat (this one just says I hope you brought tacos) while Krista walks away, across the soft beige-gray-nothing-color carpet in the apartment, swinging around the low-slung coffee table by the couch. She ducks into the small bathroom and grabs the towels off the towel rack.

Sonya calls out, “Baby, do I hear someone at the door?”

Krista hesitates, towels in hand - she bought them at Target, too, the bathroom is fall-themed and the towels are a deep saturated pumpkin orange and a hunter green and they have cream-colored stitching that reads thankful and choose joy - and looks towards the closed bedroom door. “Um, yes. You remember Kauri Grant?”

There’s a pause, and then the bedroom door cracks open, and Sonya peeks through. Her short, straight brown hair is pulled back with clips to keep it out of her eyes, and she’s still in her pajama pants and t-shirt from last night. “That druggie friend of yours? The homeless guy?”

Krista shakes her head, nervously twisting the bunched-up towels in her hands. “He’s, he’s not-... he’s not on drugs, Sonya, I told you he’s not on drugs.”

“But he is homeless.”

“... yes.”

Sonya’s lips are a straight line, and the look she gives Krista makes her heart flip unhappily. Kauri always makes Sonya look like this. She doesn’t trust him, thinks he’s going to get Krista arrested, thinks he deals or buys or something, but Krista knows the truth and it’s a truth she can’t tell.

If she told Sonya what Kauri is, there would be questions, and then Krista would have to explain what she is, and she… she can’t.

What if Sonya reported him? Krista would shatter if she were the reason someone had to go back. So… she keeps his secret for him, and it’s just one lie, but it means Sonya only ever believes the worst.

“Well.” Sonya takes a deep breath. “What does he want?”

“They stopped running the buses,” Krista says, keeping her voice low. “Because the roads are so flooded.” The TV is still going, running a show Krista doesn’t even remember turning on, and Kauri is still on the inside doormat, dripping and cold and wet and in need of somewhere to stay. “He just wants to crash overnight, Sonya. Please.”

“I’m tired of you letting this guy take advantage of you, Kris,” Sonya says, and then just sighs, raking a hand through her hair and getting it caught on the clips, frowning and jerking her fingers back out, leaving her hair all mussed and beautiful. Krista wants to kiss her, but this isn’t the time. 

“It’s just one night-”

“It’s never just anything with Kauri Grant, Kris, and you know it. Just one night with Kauri Grant means he’ll eat half the food in our kitchen and you’ll end up washing his clothes for him-”

“He shouldn’t have to pay for laundry!”

“How come he can’t stay at a motel or something?”

“I don’t know, probably he hasn’t been making much money, if it’s raining people don’t go walking around to give-”

“Oh but somehow he always has money for drinks when he calls to see if you want to go out, though? You think I haven’t noticed that?”

Krista sets her jaw, at that. “Sonya. Please don’t do this. You know he almost never has to pay for drinks-”

“Because he’s fucking all the bartenders, Kris!”

“He just needs somewhere to crash for a single fucking night. Come on, Sonya, don’t be-... don’t be like this. He’s my fucking friend. It’s not like I have a lot of those.”

She never curses, and the unusual word coming from her lips pulls Sonya up short from whatever she intended to say next. There’s a silence, and then her girlfriend sighs and pushes the door open a little more. She holds out her arms and Krista steps into them, taking the tight embrace and soaking it up.

On the bed, their black cat Pepperjack looks up, gives a soft chirping meow, and lays his head back down again. 

“I’m sorry,” Sonya says, softly. “I know you care about him. I just wish I understood why.”

Because we’re the same, in all the ways that made us. Because he needs to know there are places where he is allowed to stay. Because of a million reasons I can’t tell, secrets I have to keep. 

Because he’s a ghost, and he wears the face of someone who died for him to be born.

Just like I wear a dead girl’s face, just like Leila does, like Chris and Antoni and all of us, we’re all walking around in someone else’s discarded body.

And I can’t tell you.

“He’s my friend,” Krista says again, more softly, and kisses Sonya’s cheek. Her girlfriend turns her head to turn it to a kiss on the lips, and Krista relaxes into the soft reassurance that comes with the love in that kiss. “One of my first friends, really. He’s just going through some stuff right now-”

“Baby, you always say he’s going through some stuff. When does he finish going through it and get out on the other side of all that stuff?”

Krista sighs, and nuzzles her way back into another kiss. “I don’t know. But he’ll leave as soon as the buses are running again, I promise, okay?”

Sonya nods, and they rest their foreheads together for a moment, let the softer silence stand. Then Sonya says, quietly, “Okay, baby. Just. I feel like Pepper over there is all the strays we need in our life, you know?”

“I know,” Krista murmurs. “But he’ll have somewhere to go once it stops raining, I promise.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ll start making a list for replacing all the goddamn groceries he’s gonna eat.”

“He doesn’t get much good food out there-”

“Kris. He’s a taker. He uses you. And when he’s here, he uses us. I don’t see why you don’t get that.”

“He’s not-”

“Kris, listen to me. Stop trusting some pretty dude who is just going to get you hurt when he pisses the wrong person off. I know you guys met at the same homeless house or whatever, but he’s going nowhere fast and you can’t let him take you with him.”

“Sonya, stop.”

“Kris-”

“I said stop it.” She pulls back and away, grabbing some of her baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt from the pile of ‘clean’ clothes folded on top of the dresser until she has the energy to put them in the dresser - which is never, Krista delights in being able to be messy in her own home - and carries them out. Sonya stands in the doorway watching her go, and then sighs and goes back to her headset, back to work.

Kauri, still just inside the doorway, is lowering his phone from his ear as Krista comes into view. Nat bought him that phone, so she’d know Kauri was alive the weeks he was gone. Nat bought him the phone, he bought his clothes with panhandling money, his sweatshirt is Dustin’s. The backpack he found abandoned at a bus stop. 

Nothing Kauri is wearing, or holding, is really his own.

A little plastic ziplock-style sandwich bag sticks out of his pocket. He had his phone in it to keep it dry, Krista thinks, and wonders how long he’s been wandering around out there in the rain. She hesitantly speaks up. “Here, Kauri, I’ve got towels and some clothes to change into-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kauri says, softly, and glances up at her  before he looks down again. Water drips from his hair onto the phone’s screen and he wipes at it with his finger, squinting. “I’ll be gone in a second.”

“What?” Krista goes still, and realizes that she and Sonya were not as quiet as they thought they were. “What do you mean? It's pouring-”

“I called someone,” Kauri says, flat and sharp, without looking at her. “Gonna walk to that bus stop with the little roof and he’ll come get me. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake? It’s not- Kauri… it’s not safe for Jake to drive all that way across the city, half the roads are flooding-”

“Not Jake.” Kauri isn’t just not looking at her, he can’t. His face is a little red, splotches on his pale cheeks. Is some of the water on his face tears, now, and not from the rain? “I know someone else who lives near here. He’s coming to get me.”

“Kauri…” Krista closes her eyes, guilt twisting around inside of her that he’d heard. He knows Sonya doesn’t like him, but Kauri is so sensitive to being disliked. She should have pulled Sonya into the bedroom and closed the door. “Who is it?”

Kauri blows air through his nose. “It’s Derrick.”

Krista hitches in a breath in surprise. “Your ex? Kauri, didn’t-... didn’t he threaten you when you broke up?”

Kauri shakes his head, gives her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “No. I misunderstood him, that’s all. I thought, um, I thought he was angry, but he was just… sad. The whole stupid fight was my fault anyway, and I’ve seen him since and he agreed to be friends. It’s fine. I asked, and he wants me there. I’ll sleep on his couch.”

No, you won’t. We both know you won’t.

“He wants you there,” Krista parrots, plaintively. “Kauri, you don’t have to leave, or anything, I swear. I’ll make you a bed up-”

“It’s fine,” Kauri repeats, and gives her another breezy, airy smile. He sticks his phone back into the little clear bag, closes it up, and shoves it back in his pocket. He slips his soaking-wet shoes back on and Krista winces as she hears the way his feet push water around inside them. “I’m fine, Krista, it’s really not a big deal. Derrick always says I can call him, when I run into him-”

“You’re still seeing him?” Krista licks at her lips. She holds the towels and clothes useless in her arms like a child hugging a teddy bear, feeling guilty and useless. Kauri came here for somewhere safe to stay, and felt unwanted, and now…

“No, but he… we show up at the same places sometimes.”

“... Kauri, is he following you?”

Kauri gives a brittle, bright laugh. “What? No! It’s fine.”

“It’s fine,” Krista repeats, and then says softly, “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. You… you always say it’s fine. How many times can you say it before you just… admit when it’s not, Kauri?”

Kauri’s smile drops, for a second. His blue eyes meet hers, haunted and sad, making the choice to hurt himself rather than be hurt by anyone else. Kauri Grant is a ghost, she thinks, and very nearly says out loud. You don’t have to haunt us, Kauri. You could have a home.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the hood of his zip-up sweatshirt over his head, where it flops, just as soaked-through as everything else, providing no safety from the rainfall at all. Water drips off of it onto his nose. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes to believe it,” He says, heavily.

“For who to believe it? Us, or you?”

“I’ll catch you later, Krista. No big deal. Thanks for letting me hang out for a minute.”

Krista watches, helpless, as Kauri turns and walks back out into the rain, shoulders hunched. The rain is so thick that he disappears from view before he’s even fully across the parking lot. From a man to a shade of the fog to nothing at all.

Sonya wanders out of the bedroom to find Krista still staring outside, through the open door. “Baby? Where’s your friend?”

“Where’s my friend? He heard us talking.” Krista’s voice is thready trembling. “He found someone else to stay with.”

The ex-boyfriend, who told Kauri he was a ditz and kind of dumb, who told him he was lucky someone put up with how difficult he is, who broke up with him while threatening and scaring him, who… who still let him leave, at least.

So it’s better than where he came from, maybe.

But not by much.

“Oh. So he did have somewhere else to go. Probably he just called his dealer, Krista. Nobody looks that strung out without being on something.”

Krista’s fingers tightened on the cloth she held in her hands until the tension hurt, ached up her arms and to her shoulders. “Sonya, he’s just-... he’s messed up, but he’s not-... he’s not on drugs. He’s just had a hard-... a hard life.”

“Yeah, I mean, a lot of us have. But you always let him take advantage of you, Kris. That’s all. That’s all I worry about. I mean, I’m sure he’s a fine guy, but I’m not on Team Kauri, you know? I’m Team Krista. I worry way more about how you get all weird for a couple days every time he’s here.”

“Sonya-”

“He’ll be fine.”

Krista shakes her head, but repeats, “He’ll be fine,” to settle her own nerves. She realizes belatedly that Kauri’s socks are still balled up on the concrete step outside her door, and she moves forward, closes the door, and does up the locks, leaving them there for now.

Maybe he’ll come back for them.

He probably won’t.

Pepperjack meows softly at her, and she turns to see the black cat winding his way around a leg of the coffee table. Something in his eyes looks… reproachful. Pepper likes curling up with Kauri when he stays over, warm against his back or on his chest, just under his chin. 

Krista walks past Sonya to hang the towels back up, puts her clothes back in the clean clothes pile, and curls up on the couch with Pepperjack in her lap and Sonya at her side. Warm, dry, and guilty.

She sent the ghost away - or Sonya did - or she did, by not defending him enough… and still, Krista feels haunted. She pulls her own phone out from the pocket in her pants and texts Jake. He went back to Derrick.

She doesn’t have to say who he is. She sees when Jake reads the message, but he doesn’t send anything back right away. Maybe he’ll call Kauri. Maybe he’ll convince Kauri to go somewhere other than his shit ex-boyfriend’s place. Maybe maybe maybe, but it all relies on Kauri not running away.

It all relies on Kauri. Kauri’s a survivor, she tells herself. They all are. She texts Jake again. I’m sure it’s okay. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m sure.

Yeah, is all Jake sends back. She can feel the anger through the inconsequential bloodless single-word response. Anger, fear, and worry.

She closes her eyes. 

He’ll be fine. He’s fine.

How many times do they tell each other Kauri is fine, when everyone knows it’s not true?

---

@maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @moose-teeth, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes  @raigash @cubeswhump

[princesses-and-bitchcraft]

In Which Introductions Are Made (Or Rather, Are Not)

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: General Word Count: 1204

Summary: “Doctor, funny thing happened just now. What appears to be an Earth penguin just showed up in my console room, and insulted me right to my face?" Clara has lived a long time, and seen a wide array of Things, but a penguin in the console room has to be a new one. Where did it come from? Why is it here? How can it be talking to her? And possibly most important of all, what does she have to do to be rid of it?

So I’m planning on doing a whole series of these eventually, showing the scenarios in which Clara is introduced to various other characters from the Whoniverse. They’re all technically a part of my Movie Night AU, but some are probably more “relevant” than others. I’ve been reading Frobisher’s comics lately and he wouldn’t leave me well enough alone, so he has the honour of being the first I suppose.

Read on AO3 or under the cut.

Clara couldn’t possibly have been seeing what she thought she was seeing. It was simply impossible. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe her brain was finally starting to fail her after who knows how long piloting a TARDIS. She’d seen a lot of things in her day, sure, but this one she just wasn’t ready for. She shook her head, blinked, rubbed her eyes, but unfortunately for her there continued to be what looked like an Earth penguin in her console room.

“Can I... help you?” She spoke hesitantly, questions flying through her head all jockeying to be released at once. She wasn’t anywhere near Earth, was this an alien penguin? Why was it on her ship? How did it get into her console room? What did it think it was doing?

The penguin, if indeed it was a penguin, looked up from where it had been poking around. It seemed to be giving her as much scrutiny as she was giving it. She was beginning to question what she had expected to happen by questioning it, when finally, it opened it’s beak and out tumbled something Clara was ready to call ‘speech’, although not speech that she was ready to accept.

“Well,” said the penguin, in a way that pleasant conversations so rarely start out, “you see, nobody came to serve me at the bar up front, so I took it upon myself to find someone I could speak to. Got a bit distracted by all the machinery here. It looks quite a bit different from the last one I was in, but I’d wager this was a TARDIS. You’re not another Time Lord, are you?”

Clara blinked again, not even sure where to begin addressing the intruder examining her console. She held up a finger and said, somewhat distractedly, “Could you actually hold that thought a second?” She slowly pulled out her phone, dialing the Doctor. She wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail, had in fact been more or less composing her message in her head as it had rung. “Doctor, funny thing happened just now. What appears to be an Earth penguin just showed up in my console room, and insulted me right to my face? Asked if I were ‘another’ Time Lord? Yeah, call me back!”

She turned her attention back to her unwelcome visitor, and sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for this. “First of all, it’s a diner , not a bar . Second of all, it’s closed . And third of all-” her brain hit a block. ‘Third of all, why’re you a penguin ? Third of all, how are you talking? Third of all, what makes you the expert on Time Lords and TARDISes?’ “Third of all,” she settled on, moving towards the penguin, “get out of my console room!” Unsure of what else to do, she made a shooing motion with her hands, trying to direct the bird back out to the front room.

“You’re a little tightly wound, aren’t you?” replied the penguin, continuing to wander everywhere but the direction Clara wanted. “Got a margarita dispenser hidden back here or something? You could probably use one for yourself too. Oh, this looks new, the Doc never had one of those. What's it for?”

Clara made a flying leap towards the penguin, tackling him to the ground before he could touch... whatever it was he was about to touch. There were things in here even she didn’t know the function of. “That’s it. This ship has a very strict ‘no birds allowed’ policy, and you’ve just overstayed your welcome.” As she was speaking she felt herself crash against the ground. Looking around in confusion, she saw a snake slither out from underneath her. The snake continued on towards the door leading back to the diner section before turning back into a penguin.

“I gotta tell you, Miss, the hospitality around here is a little lacking.” He waddled his way out of the console room and pulled himself onto a bar stool in the diner section. “But I can be a forgiving guy,” he called back to her. Clara scrambled to follow his voice, closing and locking the door to the console room as she went. “I heard this place has the best somethings in the local space-time area, you know that? What was it again? Best drinks? Best pies? Best movies? No, probably not that one. Anyway, like I said, I can be a forgiving guy. Show me your best and I’ll forgive the rude service, huh?”

What the mouthy (beaky?) bird was ignoring as he babbled was the way he was being manhandled out of his seat by the tiny diner proprietor. She pulled and prodded him until she managed to throw him over her shoulder. He made little by way of protest as she carried him towards the ship’s front doors, which opened for her as she approached. She put her whole body into tossing the penguin out, but no sooner had she turned him loose then she felt something slam against her shoulder and clatter to the ground. Lying at her feet was a boomerang she had never seen before. As she bent down to examine it more closely, it reverted back to penguin form. “Ah, what a classic,” he said as he brushed himself off. “You’ve got some spunk, I’ll give you that. Give me a warning next time you want to do that, I can make myself smaller for you!”

Clara turned away. She was at a loss as to how she was supposed to be handling this situation, but she could only assume it would be best not to give the penguin any more of her attention than strictly necessary at this point.

She picked up her phone again, intending to give the Doctor another try. After all, clearly this was a friend of theirs, or at least somebody they knew. Hopefully the TARDIS would be able to help route the call appropriately through their timeline to a version of them that would recognize the nuisance. Unfortunately for Clara, instead of the screen lighting up at the touch of a button, her phone was instead blowing her a raspberry. Having caught on to what was happening, at least to a certain extent, she simply placed the no-longer-a-penguin onto the nearest table and reached back into her pocket, not taking her eyes off the decoy as she did so. Once her actual phone was securely in her hand, she turned away again.

She could almost cry from relief when a familiar voice answered the call this time. She launched right into things, forgoing the usual pleasantries. “Doctor, please tell me the shape shifting penguin in my TARDIS is yours, and more importantly, come and get it!”

“Ooh, Frobisher! Been a while since I saw him. Hi Frobisher!” the Doctor called happily into the phone, clearly ignoring the fact that he shouldn’t be able to hear her.

“Hold on, who? Did you say Frobisher?”

“Sorry Clara, I’ve really got to go. Quite busy! Have fun with Frobisher though!”

“Doctor! Come and get him!” Clara heard the telltale beep letting her know she’d already been hung up on. “DOCTOR!” she screamed into the dead air.

[jazzstudied]

How Hogwarts Houses Study

Hello guys! I had a lot of ideas for my first official post on Tumblr and eventually I have settled in creating this! It started off really serious but I also added some scenarios so it became like this! I literally have no idea if this has been done before and I thought I should give it a try- just for fun! 

Online classes have yet to officially start for me so I have an abundant amount of time in my hands. I am sure that once they officially start, I wouldn’t have time to fantasize about being a student at Hogwarts! 

Warning: I am also very sorry if some of these seem to be generalizations/ stereotypes. I thoroughly believe in the fact that everyone is different and just because they belong to a certain house, doesn’t mean they ‘study less’ or ‘study more’, etc. I think this is a very close-minded way of viewing things as everyone, no matter their house, can choose to study and to not study and have different reactions to stress/ have different study methods. I also think everyone at least belongs to two houses with varying percentages so there might be some overlap! Anyways, it is all in good fun! Enjoy!

The type to verbally recite the material in the halls for memorization, annoying everybody else in the process

Scrawled notebooks and underlined words for emphasis

Simplifies the concept for better understanding, repeatedly using the Feynman Technique

Struggles not to scream out the answer during lectures 

Ink blobs seeping through the parchment

Bites their quill habitually 

Breaks their quill habitually

The first to turn in assignments. ALWAYS. Slytherin is always in second.

Rushes through projects haphazardly 

Likes ambient sounds during study sessions

Hits themselves on the head when trying to remember

Starts and finishes everything as soon as possible 

Finishing matters more than perfection

Not afraid to challenge teachers

No one can tell the difference between a stressed out Gryffindor and a rabid squirrel

Memorization, memorization, memorization is key

Scrunches up the parchment 

Remembers actions and physical procedures very well 

“What the fuck are aesthetics and why should I care?” Gryffindor mutters defensively. 

The type that gets distracted in study groups, prefers to study alone

Early riser

Sticky notes! Sticky notes everywhere!

Uses Feynman Technique and spaced repetition (with sticky notes!)

Very aggressive when distracted

Tiny bounces during lectures

Twiddles with thumbs 

Most likely to participate eagerly in class

Wrong answers provide encouragement, giving light to the right ones

Beat themselves up when getting the question wrong a second time they encountered it

Bought multiple quills, parchment, inkwells, to color code different classes

Starts projects but struggles with finishing due to “not-being-good-enough” mentality

Always thinking that they are on the brink of failing but they are actually at the top of their class

Confident in work ethic but is insecure of those “with natural intelligence” 

Believes 100% in the Effort Rule

Unintentionally charming to teachers

Willing to take leadership roles in groupwork. Is naturally talented in getting people to work together. 

Spends a lot of time reading the material, triggering deep understanding

“Aesthetic, if functional, is important Gryffindor! Doesn’t it look cute?” Hufflepuff says brightly, showing the notes. 

Probably made the biggest and most complicated mind map in the world

No one except they, themselves, can understand their notes (except Gryffindor, they understand each others notes for some reason)

Completely disregards the Feynman technique

Doing multiple things at the same time

No sleep

Is not aware of their keen memory. Would somehow remember the entire Section 7 Article 23 of Magical Theory but forget their shoes.

Memory is triggered by their passion on the subject

Can study well with other people but nobody studies with them because they can’t keep up with the madness (except Slytherin)

The type to completely dive into a subject to the point they get off track and suddenly they only have 30 minutes to deal with the other mountain of work they need to do

Looks like they slack off but they don’t, they are simply nocturnal 

Has difficulty starting projects “There are many ways to think about this and I can’t just choose one!” mentality

Books. Brings them everywhere. Books. 

Scolds Slytherin for writing in library books but does the same anyway

Has a love-hate relationship with the teacher

“You know what they say, Hufflepuff, the best aesthetic is pyrotechnics” Ravenclaw says, a spark forming at the end of their wand, while everyone panics.

Regularly talks to the teacher for information on upcoming assignments and tasks

Pokes holes through parchment

Thoroughly despises group work

Becomes a tyrant during group work

Likes to teach other people concepts but has to be buttered up before doing so

Memorizes by closing their eyes, mentally writing the answer, occasionally muttering

Spends the entire lecture charming Gryffindor's pens to slip from their hand everytime they try to write

Learns more on their own

Most likely to pretend they didn't study but literally spent 3 days without sleep just to get a perfect score

Obsessed with flashcards. Makes them all the time.

Complete silence during study sessions is a must therefore avoiding the Gryffindor is a must.

Finds Feynman Technique difficult because they want to include all the details and information

Too ambitious with their to-do list resulting either a soul-crushingly productive day or a burn-out day where they do absolutely nothing. No in-between. 

Believes in “to hate the system is to play the system” so charming teachers requires effort, hitting their pride

Makes it their life goal to fool Gryffindor to quickly turn in assignments first in a ‘who-can-do-it-faster-’ battle  so that they don’t double-check their answers, therefore getting a lower score

Has difficulty starting and finishing projects because they compare themselves to other people too much

Gets bored when there is no competition but gets butt-hurt if there is

“Hurry and blow it up Ravenclaw! Why give a warning so that they can run away?” Slytherin yells, from a safe 15 meter distance as the other students scatter from the flames.

[tiifalockhart]

Genesis and His Wing

@wistful-wings​ asked: Hey hey! Me from the writing suggestions post. :) "Genesis having a crummy time trying to do everyday things while dealing with his wing (Sleeping, sitting in on a sofa, showering, etc.). :P No compulsion to write it though! Only if it inspires you!" Have fun! :D

Warnings: Grumpy Genesis, alludes to insomnia, food

A/N: hehe thank you so much for this suggestion, I immediately started thinking of so many ridiculous and silly problems that would come with Genesis’... Extra appendage. I decided to format it as headcanons since I didn’t think a drabble or short story would work in this case. I enjoyed writing it though!! Feedback is always appreciated <3

Headcanons

Genesis, at first, liked his wing (when he was much younger and didn't really understand why he had it)

He enjoyed the poetic meaning to it, especially when he was first learning about Loveless

It took many years for him to realize what it actually meant

Genesis was... a monster, and that wing symbolized it

Soon, he began to hate it, he wanted to hide it from the world

No hero had a wing, because they wouldn't be heroes if they did

It was so hard to keep up with, especially with his feathers falling everywhere

Doing normal tasks were just as hard

Genesis didn't realize how much of a fire hazard it was until after he used fire materia for the first time

As soon as he casted it, he hadn't realized one of the sparks had landed on the feathers and caught on fire

After becoming soaked by having water thrown on him (probably by Zack), he decided that his wing was a nuisance (and he was probably right)

After the first incident, Genesis' list for reasons why he hated that damned wing began to grow

Sleeping was a pain in general

He couldn't sleep on his back, because he'd wake up extremely sore

He preferred to try and avoid sleeping on his stomach, suffocation by pillow did not sound appealing

He couldn't sleep on his left side, simply because of the wing, it would stretch out and become sore

or he would accidentally sleep on top of it and feel it grow numb

Sleeping on his right side was the only feasible option

It covered him like a blanket most of the time, so that was a plus (warm wing makes sleep time better)

It also got feathers all over him by morning time (warm wing makes mess makes sleep time worse)

It was insanely frustrating trying to get comfortable with it, which is why he absolutely dreaded trying to sleep

When it comes to simple things like showering, he struggled. 

Mostly because he struggled to fit in a shower with himself and the obnoxious wing

Eventually, he gave up trying to shower in that tiny box shower and decided to place a shower head in the bath tub and use that instead. 

He started looking up “feather shampoo” on his computer (causing anyone who went through his search history to laugh)

One day, he saw one of those Dawn commercials where they use the soap to clean baby ducklings

Finally, he gets his hands on some of the dish soap and decides that he prefers that than foam soap

Most of his energy was used for cleaning and taking care of his wing 

He’d remove falling off feathers and toss them in the trash, before carefully cleaning it and then himself

Trying to dry it was difficult to say the least.

Genesis used blow-dried his hair (how else do you think it looks that good?)

Then, he’ll blow dry his wing. 

From anyone else’s point of view, it looks absolutely ridiculous

From his, it seems like the simplest way to take care of the wing, it’s not like they have wing driers (which he also looked up on the internet)

Cooking was a different kind of beast that Genesis was never ready for

Even though he convinced Angeal or sometimes Sephiroth to cook, when he was out on his own, it was a pain

Sometimes, Genesis would just forget that his wing was there

He’d make himself a cup of coffee, turn to make himself toast, then *CRASH* 

a broken mug on the floor, and ruined coffee

The amount of times feathers have ended up in his food is ridiculous, it appalls him

How does he even shed that many feathers????

Not to mention he sometimes gets burnt (not sure if that's because of the wing, or because of how bad he is at cooking)

At the end of the day, Genesis just wants to relax, sit back and read Loveless, he deserved it, didn’t he?

Well, his wing had other plans

Genesis swore that it had a mind of its own, just as he was going to sit, it popped out and completely got in the way

A loud and exhausted groan left his lips as he shut the book, glaring at the wing as if it were going to go away

(He may or may not have scolded it as well)

Eventually, he would just move to the bed or simply read and pace, giving up with the whole idea of sitting and relaxing

[lizaloveslevihan]

my big mood today is an au where levihan is living the west coast life and going to the city to buy good bread and go biking next to the sea-side and maybe crossing the bridge as they the weather is so cold but they feel so warm from the exercise and each other's love <3

A Day Well Spent

He kneeled at the bedside, already dressed for the day with every intention to drag her out of the bed. However, as he stared into her sleeping face, the words died down his throat. 

Her messy brown hair was everywhere, and she snored, mouth slightly agape, tiny hints of drool slipping from her mouth. He had already allotted himself time this morning to watch her for a couple of minutes before he got up and prepared breakfast, which was already waiting for them in the dining room. He had been incredibly tempted to just stay in bed with her all day, but he had already agreed with her plans, which, ironically, she had to be reminded of herself.

He carefully tucked a handful of hair behind her ear and traced his hand towards her bare arm, shaking it lightly. “Oi, four-eyes. Wake up. We’re gonna be stuck in rush hour.”

Hange groaned in her sleep. She lifted her arm and started waving her hand around until it finally smacked against his face. Levi sighed and took her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. 

“Five more minutes, clean freak,” she yawned, “five more minutes.”

“It’s already nine, for fuck’s sake,” Levi said firmly. Hange huffed and squeezed her eyes, even more, crumpling her face a bit. Levi shook her again with a little more force. “You were the one who kept bugging me about going out today, so stick with your plan.”

Hange groaned louder and draped an arm over her eyes, shifting her body so that it was facing away from him. “It’s not my fault you’re so good in bed,” she complained, “I’m still exhausted as fuck.”

Levi sighed again, knowing that he now had to stick to his initial plan. He stood up, cracked his knuckles, and tore off the blanket that covered her bare body. Hange let out a loud shriek in surprise but had little time to react when he swiftly picked her up and carried her towards the bathroom. 

The position was rather awkward, given their height difference, but Levi had already done this multiple times whenever she refused to take a bath herself. Hange normally didn’t complain, but this time, she was swatting his arm and growling like an animal. “I would have gotten up in five minutes you kn--”

She didn’t finish her sentence as Levi plopped her right into the bathtub. 

“What the fuck?!” Hange screeched, feeling the water envelop her skin. She yelped, spilling some of it on the floor. 

“I didn’t want to have to do this, four-eyes, but you left me with no choice,” Levi said as he crossed his arms. “Now you better hurry up or I’m leaving your ass in thirty minutes.”

Hange huffed. Of course, he’d already prepared a bath and everything. However, the annoyance she felt slowly died down as she noted the warmness of the water and the strong scent of lavender. She poked at some of the bubbles and felt her frown turn into a wide grin. 

Levi scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “The fuck are you so happy about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Hange sang as she eased into the tub, feeling her muscles relax. She sighed comfortably and looked at him. “Just how much I love you.”

She grinned even wider as he was visibly taken aback, an unmistakable blush dusting his pale cheeks. “Just hurry up and wipe your ass,” he grumbled, suddenly turning shy and looking away. “I don’t wanna be stuck in traffic all day.”

“Aren’t you going to do it for me?” Hange pouted. She did her best puppy eyes, knowing it always had at least a fifty percent chance of working on him.

“Nice try,” Levi said as he swiftly walked out of the room. “Save your begging for later.”

As he shut the door behind him, Hange couldn’t help but giggle. He really was something else.

--------

The weather was finally turning cooler after months of excessive heat, so she was glad to finally be able to wear that soft, yellow sweater Nanaba had gotten for her on her birthday. She finished dressing, leaving her damp hair to dry first, and went out of the bedroom. She found Levi in the kitchen, sipping his morning tea. 

Levi glanced up as he heard her walking in, and Hange observed how he stared at her a second longer before glancing down and taking another sip. “Took you long enough.” 

Hange then noticed the plate of eggs and toast on the dining table, as well as her usual mug of coffee. “Thanks for breakfast, Levi!” she happily exclaimed as she took her usual seat, Levi joining her afterward. 

They took their breakfasts quickly, seeing as they had a couple of places they needed to get to that day. In twenty minutes, they were already on the freeway, and much to Levi’s pleasant surprise, the traffic wasn’t as bad as he thought. The whole ride would have been perfect if only Hange didn’t control the music. Hopefully, she’d let him play his playlist when they drove to their next stop. He didn’t know if he could handle listening to her rap “My Shot” from the Hamilton soundtrack seven more times. He appreciated the music, but what he didn’t appreciate was her screeching every. single. word. 

They got to the Farmer’s Market before noon and Levi managed to secure a parking spot by her favorite pastry stall. “Remember, we’re getting bread and fruit. Don’t you dare buy a fucking fish like last time.” He reminded Hange as they got out of the car. He walked around and met her eyes, already seeing the excitement in them. 

“But that was so fun!” Hange complained. She immediately hooked her arm to his and started dragging him to the first stall. 

“I went to the bathroom for ten minutes and the next thing I know you made your own campfire in Santa Monica and tried cooking an actual fish in it,” Levi emphasized. They stopped right in front of her favorite shop where she glanced at all the decadent options that laid in front of her. “You were fucking lucky that Arlert kid worked there and helped cover it up, otherwise, they would have probably arrested your shitty ass.”

Before Hange could reply, the old woman who managed the store finally saw and greeted them. “Oh, how nice to see you again Dr. Zoe! Mr. Ackerman.”

Levi nodded at the woman while Hange gave her a big wave. “Hi, Kate! We’ll have the usual. And maybe a box of these blueberry tarts. Thank you!” She smiled brightly. 

Kate instantly returned the smile. “Of course. Half a dozen of chocolate croissants and a box of blueberry tarts coming right up, dear.”

Hange finally glanced down at Levi as Kate was busy grabbing the pastries. “Isn’t Armin such a sweet kid? He also works so hard at the lab, even if he’s an unpaid intern. I already promised him a superb letter of recommendation when he graduates, which makes us even I guess.”

Levi rolled his eyes. She was definitely shaping up Arlert to replace Moblit, should he finally die from stress from making sure she doesn’t blow herself up at work. Even though he never showed it (and never will) he was grateful for those two for taking care of her when he couldn’t. 

“You need to stop watching those survival shows on Netflix,” Levi said as Kate started wrapping up their purchases. “Next thing I know, you’re gonna attempt to eat your own shit.”

Hange let out a large bark of laughter. She then bumped her shoulder against his. “My shit would probably taste really good though, you gotta admit.”

“Here you go, sweetie,” Kate said as she handed Hange a paper bag. Levi started to take out his wallet when the old woman stopped him. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s on the house today!”

“But Kate--” Hange started to protest. The old woman placed a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

“You two come here every Sunday, and it always warms my heart to see how sweet you are. That’s very rare for couples these days.” Kate smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you pay next week, alright?”

Hange then gave her a big hug which made the old woman chuckle in delight. She returned the gesture and glanced at Levi, who nodded his head in gratitude. 

They eventually pulled apart, and before they exchanged goodbyes, Kate walked up to Levi and whispered: “Take care of that one, okay? She’s a keeper.”

He glanced discreetly at Hange, drinking in her appearance and fighting the small grin that threatened to appear on his face. He returned his gaze to the old woman and spoke quietly: “You have no idea.”

It was after they purchased more food from the other stalls did Hange finally ask what the old woman told him. 

“Oh, nothing.” Levi responded, the bright flower shop at the end of the hall catching his eye, “Just how much your shit would taste good.” 

Hange laughed out loudly, gaining the attention of the people near them. Levi finally felt his lips turn upright at the sight of her happy face. 

“I knew it.”

-------

They reached the beach after an hour-long drive that mainly consisted of fighting over playing yet another Hamilton song or Levi’s alternative rock and classical playlist. They eventually came up to the agreement where Hange was allowed to sing one Hamilton song and listen quietly to the rest. If she failed to do so, then she had to play Levi’s music. Suffice to say, Levi was finally able to enjoy at least some parts of the drive.

There was a park that was situated exactly next to the beach which was the perfect spot for lunch. Hange normally persuaded him to have a picnic in the sand, despite the obvious discomfort he had, but after seeing all the trouble she put him through last time with the fish situation, she was more than okay to eat at a picnic table at the park. 

Hange felt herself instantly relax as the cool, salty air entered her lungs. She stretched out her limbs after being cooped up in the car for so long and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze. 

As much as she loved her job and the people she worked with, she was glad to have these nice days off -- especially with Levi by her side. 

“Oi, instead of standing around like an idiot, why don’t you help out shitty glasses?” Levi called out as he opened the trunk and grabbed some of the bags of food they had bought. 

Hange broke from her trance and did exactly that. They found a nice table and Levi got to working with placing a picnic blanket over it as Hange started to pull out and prepare the boxes of food and bottles of beverages. As they worked, Hange couldn’t help but discreetly glance at Levi as he neatly arranged the other boxes of food, his strong figure visibly relaxed, and his face calm, even though it had its usual stoic expression. The breeze picked up a little, slightly ruffling his dark locks as he concentrated on making sure nothing flew away. 

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” he said without looking at her. Hange couldn’t help but laugh at being caught, and she shrugged before sitting down, her hands making its way to the first box of pastries. “Eh. I already have too many photos of your constipated face on my phone. It almost makes me look like a stalker. Though that would be an interesting concept.” She bit into the croissant and sighed at its wonderful flavor.

Levi scoffed and sat across from her before grabbing a sandwich. “It’s not hard to imagine. I bet you already have some weird fucking shrine of me in your lab or some shit.”

Hange gasped, a couple of crumbs falling from her face. “How’d you find out?! I thought I hid it so well.”

Levi pursed his lips in amusement as Hange grinned at him. They ate in silence for a bit before falling into an easy conversation about their respective work and what they had missed talking about the past week. Hange excitedly talked about the new developments in the lab and the experiments she was thinking of proposing soon. In turn, Levi updated her on how he and Erwin were close to securing a deal with one of their potential investors.

They finished their food and after cleaning up and putting some of it back in the car, they proceeded to walk together by the seaside. Levi wasn’t keen on stepping into the sand at all this time, and Hange conceded. It wasn’t long before their hands were firmly clasped together as they walked, and they went on, passing by surfers and other beachgoers who also enjoyed a rather gentle sun and cold breeze. They inserted some personal commentary on each person they found interesting -- which varied immensely from a street performer to an old couple who wore swimsuits that left little for the imagination. 

“Look, Levi!” Hange stopped and pointed to a bike rental stall. “Can we go?” 

It wasn’t as if Levi had much choice, so he simply agreed. 

After paying the rent (and sanitizing the handles on Levi’s part), they rode their bikes and followed the convenient trail specifically made for them. Hange, with her strong and long legs, obnoxiously went faster than him. “Oi, Hange! Slow down will you?” Levi called out. “It’s not a fucking race!”

Though he commended the effort, there was still no way she could outrun the man who actually had a fixed gym schedule. “The fuck, four-eyes?” he said as they finally pedaled side by side.

“Why, I thought you’d actually appreciate looking at my backside, short stuff,” Hange said, not bothering to look at him. “Your loss, I guess!” she called out.

She smiled smugly to herself as Levi took the bait and slowed down behind her. After a few seconds, she called out again: “Take a picture! It lasts longer!”

-------

They left the beach an hour before sunset, and this time, the drive to their last location was a calmer one -- Hange filling the air with more comments about the people and things they observed.

Levi glanced at her from time to time, the colors of the sky lighting her face. She went on and on about the man on the beach whose lover looked more like his daughter, about Kate and how they should give her something special next week as a thank you present, about her work agenda tomorrow and how she wanted to set up Moblit with Nifa, and what their plans were going to be next Sunday. Levi took it all in -- the sound of her voice, how she chuckled and laughed, her thoughtfulness towards others -- he took it all in and felt an overwhelming amount of happiness just by being there and listening to her. 

Hange couldn’t help but do the same. Every time she sprouted something, she looked at his reaction and was pleased to see his amused expression. He looked positively gorgeous there behind the steering wheel, and she knew that he was listening to her every word despite it being nonsense to him. The moment he placed his hand in between them, she grabbed it immediately. Though he said nothing, she knew he was as happy as her.

They had gotten to the Observatory by the time the sun started sinking, and they pulled up near a bench with an incredible view of Los Angeles laid out in front of them. Hange immediately went down and sat, but Levi had other plans as he mysteriously went to the trunk and took out something from a bag. Hange stared at him in amusement as he closed it and presented her with a bouquet of sunflowers that matched her sweater perfectly. 

“You haven’t studied these yet, right?” Levi asked. Hange smiled warmly and took it, admiring its beauty. He then sat down next to her, his face neutral. 

“They’re beautiful.” Hange noted, “and yep. I haven’t yet.” She loved to study flowers and plants as a hobby, and Levi almost always provides her with them, even if he constantly argued he got them for free somewhere.

“They were giving them out in the market while you were in the bathroom.” Levi shrugged, keeping his face expressionless. “Thought you’d need something to work on in your free time.”

Hange hugged his side, giggling at his obviously constipated face. He draped an arm around her and they stayed that way for a good amount of time. 

“You’re too kind, Levi,” Hange said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “And you’re also a terrible liar.”

“Shut the fuck up, shitty glasses.”

Hange laughed again -- she seriously couldn't stop laughing when she was with him -- and pulled away, placing the flowers onto her other side. “So.” she started, now looking at the view that laid in front of them. “What are we doing next Sunday? I believe it’s your turn to pick.”

Levi already had the answer to that question. “We’re staying in.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, “Again? Don’t you want to try out that new tea place downtown?”

Levi shook his head and thought about how he seldom had the time to just laze around in bed with her -- especially given their often hectic work schedules. He thought about this morning, her calm and serene face, the drool from lips, her messy hair -- and he knew he wanted to bask in that silence, to stare at her face for as long as possible. Though today, he had to admit, was also a day well spent. 

Hange understood and smiled softly. They wrapped their arms around one another, the cold air unable to penetrate the warmth from the love they deeply shared. 

It was a day well spent indeed. 

[caffeinatedbraincell]

I’m back on my bullshit with more TOG fluff, have fun :)

Read on AO3

Joe stumbled into the kitchen, soaking wet and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looked around frantically before making a beeline toward the countertop. He lunged for the notebook lying there.

Behind him, Nicky yelped. “Yusuf!”

Joe turned around to find his husband carrying a package of flour in his arms, which he’d apparently been retrieving from the pantry while Joe barged into his workspace.

“Hmm?” Joe said distractedly, already starting to feel the lines slipping. Damnit, why did the perfect words for his poems always only occur to him in the shower? Meter, alliteration, emotion… he’d had it all at the tip of his tongue moments ago. He just needed to write it down before he-

“Hayati, you better have a good reason for standing dripping wet and half-naked in my kitchen. There’s soapy water everywhere! You’ve made such a mess, Joe, and I just mopped…”

Nicky’s lamentations continued, and Joe tried desperately to listen while mentally reciting what was left of the lines he’d composed in the shower.

“Joe?” Nicky’s fingers snapped impatiently in front of his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

The last vestiges of his beautifully crafted words evaporated from his brain, and Joe sighed, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m sorry, Nicky. I’ll clean it up.”

He turned to grab a spare dish towel from the cabinet, shivering slightly as a wayward breeze hit his damp skin. Before he could take two steps, Joe felt a gentle hand around his wrist.

Nicky maneuvered the flour package onto the table and leveled him with a mortifyingly discerning look. “What happened, love?”

Joe remained silent, unsure of how to go about explaining the absurdity of his current presence in the kitchen. The whole endeavor seemed rather stupid in retrospect. And it wasn’t like he had a line or two of breathtaking poetry to show for it, either.

Nicky’s eyes widened a little at his hesitation. “Are you alright, Joe? Are you hurt?” He ran his hands fretfully up and down Joe’s arms and chest, feeling for traces of an injury. Joe’s eyes snapped up guiltily, and he took hold of Nicky’s wrists and brought them to his lips.

“I am alright, amore. I mean it. Not at all hurt. Please do not worry.”

“You’re trembling. Go dry off and wear something warm, I’ll take care of the floor. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”

Minutes later, Joe emerged from their room in one of Nicky’s large, fleece-lined hoodies. He found Nicky in the kitchen, wringing out a towel into the sink. As soon as he saw Joe, Nicky walked over and pressed a warm mug of hot cocoa into his hands.

“Let’s sit on the couch?”

Joe nodded, following his husband to the living room and curling up next to him on the cushions. A small blaze was starting to catch in the fireplace. Outside, rain poured with a vengeance. Nicky had closed the window but left the curtains open. Joe smiled to himself. He had never met anyone who loved the rain as much as his Nicoló.

“Drink, hayati. We can’t have you catching a cold. See, I even added those tiny marshmallows you like.”

Joe took a large sip from the cup, sighing softly as the chocolate-covered notes of nutmeg and cinnamon floated over his tongue. He nuzzled closer to Nicky, feeling a little overcome with warmth and love.

Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe and pulled him closer. “So, are you going to tell me what prompted you to run out here mid-shower in the cold of winter?”

“I thought of the right words,” Joe mumbled into Nicky’s holiday-green jumper.

“Hmm?”

“For a poem I was writing. I’ve been struggling for days with a particular section and it suddenly came to me while showering. I wanted to write it down before I forgot.”

A comfortable silence blanketed them for several minutes. Joe took another sip of his drink, savoring it gratefully.

“You didn’t, though.”

“What?” Joe asked.

“You didn’t write anything down. You came into the kitchen, but you never even opened your notebook.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot the words. They never stay for long.”

“Was it because I yelled at you?”

“No! No, amore, that was well-deserved. And you didn’t yell at me, you just…emphatically expressed your displeasure at having to mop again. Which is fair, honestly.”

Nicky chuckled, and Joe felt his heart fill with warmth all over again. He set the empty cocoa mug aside and tenderly pressed his lips to Nicky’s.

The next morning, Joe found a whole set of brand-new children’s bath crayons in the shower, stacked neatly next to their soaps and shampoos.

___

The crayons turned out to be a life-changing convenience. This became clear just three weeks after they arrived, when Joe found himself in a position to send a completed manuscript of his current poetry book to his publisher ahead of the deadline.

“This has literally never happened before,” he told Nicky in awe. “I’m always late, if anything. You are a genius, my love, thank you so much for the pre-Christmas present.”

Nicky all but preened. “Had you told me earlier, I would have gotten the crayons for you ages ago.”

“Ah,” Joe replied a little bashfully, “I didn’t actually know such a thing existed until you got them.”

It was when Joe returned from a brief meeting with his publisher the following day that he and Nicky had their first actual fight in several months. It started, like most of their fights, with empty stomachs and a grocery trip oversight.

“Joe, there’s no fresh garlic in this bag!”

“There was none at the store. Use the minced garlic in the fridge.”

“What?!”

Joe rolled his eyes. “It’s the same thing, Nicky. Better, in fact, since it’s saving you the trouble of having to chop it yourself.”

“Have you ever heard of making roasted garlic cloves using minced garlic?”

“I have not,” Joe conceded. “We should make something else.”

Nicky knew he was being impractical. Obviously, there was nothing Joe could have done if they were out of stock at the store. But Nicky had been planning this dish for days, and had already promised Nile he would send her some as part of his ongoing campaign to refute her claim that “any form of garlic except garlic bread is gross.”

There was no way Joe could have known about that, either, but Nicky was in no mood to admit any such thing.

“Joe, you had one job! I gave you a grocery list!”

Joe turned from where he was stocking the refrigerator, brow furrowed. “I don’t know what exactly you expect me to do about the store being out of garlic.”

“I don’t know, maybe check another store? Was that the only grocery store in this city?”

“Nicky, I think you should go to your room.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just…you’re hungry. And you’re clearly not prepared to cook without fresh garlic. So let me do the cooking, and you, uh, do something else. Outside of the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen, madre de dio, Nicky! I’m trying to help you!”

“Maybe you could help me by actually getting the stuff I asked you to get from the store!”

“You know what, if you need whole garlic so urgently, get it yourself. It’s dark and below freezing outside. There is no way I’m wandering from store to store at this hour to fulfill this baseless whim of yours.”

That, Nicky knew, was a completely justified response to his unreasonable anger. But it hurt nevertheless.

“Fine,” he whispered, grabbing his coat and storming out the front door before Joe could see the tears prickling in his eyes.

Joe stared at the door, astonished. Part of him wanted desperately to follow Nicky outside. Of course he could check a couple more stores. If Nicky genuinely wished for something, Joe would go to the ends of the Earth, scour Heaven and Hell, to get it for him. No amount of ego was worth knowing his beloved was out there, hungry and alone, in the frigid wind.

But Joe was also well aware that he wasn’t at fault here. And Nicky, his Nicky, rarely reacted like this to their disagreements; perhaps he just needed some time for himself. It wouldn’t be right for Joe to impose his company when his husband clearly didn’t want it.

Joe sighed in frustration. A hot shower would clear his head, he hoped, heading for their bedroom.

Twenty minutes after he had stormed out, Nicky was coming around to the realization that this had been a profoundly stupid idea. Moments after leaving the house, he had realized that he’d left the car keys behind. Foolishly, he’d boarded a bus for downtown, too irked to return home. Now, with the bus routes closed for the night and taxis staying off the road as snow clouds threatened the city, Nicky quietly admitted to himself that he was stranded.

The first weak snowflakes began to fall. Then the wind picked up, blowing several icy droplets into his face. Nicky shivered. Fuck this, he thought, pulling out his phone. His pride wasn’t worth causing Joe to worry, and it definitely wasn’t worth getting sick from the cold and creating loads of extra work for his husband. He was going to call Joe, apologize profusely, and beg him to come pick him up.

At their home, Joe let the steaming water soak through to his tired bones as he scrawled passionately on the shower walls. He was a little hurt and, if he was being honest, more than a little worried. But for once Nicky wasn’t here for him to talk to, so he threw his words at the wall in brightly colored crayon instead.

He almost didn’t hear his cell phone ring. Contorting his upper body out of the shower, he wiped his hands on his towel and reached around for the phone in his pants’ pocket. The called ID flashed his husband’s name. Joe picked up without hesitation.

“Hello?”

“Joe, I fucked up. I’m s- so sorry. I should never- never have spoken to you like that, h- hayati. Please- please forgive me.”

Over the line, Joe could hear Nicky’s teeth chattering as he struggled to get the words out. Joe shut the water off and clambered out of the shower.

“Nicky, what happened? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m f- fine. It’s just cold.”

“Come home. Please.”

“Yeah, that’s- that’s the problem. I took the bus here. The c- car keys…”

Joe had put the phone on speaker and was already getting dressed. He shouldered into a coat and seized a large throw from their bed, striding into the living room.

“I’m coming. Where are you?”

“Uh, Mira Mesa Transit Station. S- sorry, kind of far.”

“Nowhere in the universe is too far.”

“Joe-”

“Just sit tight, I’m on my way.”

Joe drove like a madman. Luckily, no one else was insane enough to be out in this imminent blizzard, so at least the roads were clear. In just under ten minutes, he reached the station.

A figure sat huddled under the overhang. Joe barely managed to stop the car before jumping out.

“Nicoló!”

Nicky struggled to his feet. “Joe, grazie a dio-”

“Shhh, amore mio, I’ve got you,” Joe soothed, pulling a shivering Nicky towards the car and bundling him into the passenger’s seat. Once he'd climbed in himself, Joe turned up the heater and divested Nicky of his too-thin, snow-soaked windbreaker. “Wear this,” he coaxed, whipping his own dry jacket off and wrapping it around Nicky’s shoulders.

“No, hayati-”

“Shh, love, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Joe wrapped the throw over the jacket, dusting the snow from Nicky's collar and tucking the blanket in. The whole way back, he drove with one hand on the wheel, intertwining the other with Nicky’s and rubbing his knuckles to warm him up.

“Shower,” Joe decided as soon as they stepped into their home. “You’re so cold, my heart. Go stand under warm water until you can feel your toes and fingers again. I’m going to make us some hot soup, okay?” Joe leaned forward and kissed Nicky’s nose gently.

Nicky nodded, too cold and tired to insist on helping. He had an inkling sense that Joe might still be irritated with him, after all. It would not be undeserved.

He made his way to their bedroom, draping Joe’s jacket over a bedpost and discarding his own clothes as he stepped into shower. Exhaling deeply, he turned his back to the stream of hot water- and froze.

A red bath crayon lay fallen on the floor, clearly left behind in haste. Joe must have been showering when I called, Nicky thought with a pang of guilt. But what had caught his attention was the shower wall in front of him. There, written in his beloved husband’s flowy cursive, was a poem.

If I could only read your heart When your lips cannot translate I wouldn’t let it break, my love Yet if it does Take mine An eternity alone I’ll wait.

The warm water poured down Nicky’s back, relaxing his aching muscles even as tears sprung into his eyes at Joe’s tender, longing words. Nicky stared and stared until the steam blurred the writing beyond perception.

A knock at the bathroom door snapped him out of his reverie.

“Nicky? Are you alright? Almost done?”

Nicky cleared his throat. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He shut off the water and dried off. He found the bedroom empty, and slipped into the pajamas and fluffy sweatshirt that Joe must have laid out for him earlier. Dry and warm and very cozy, Nicky felt his eyes well up again at the care Joe put into something as minor as picking out some clothes.

Even during their worst fights, Nicky never doubted their love for each other; their hearts had been one far too long for any such lingering uncertainties. But it never ceased to amaze him how quickly Joe forgave. How despite taking Nicky’s hurtful words to heart, Joe went above and beyond to make sure he didn’t suffer.

He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and walked out. But the moment he entered the kitchen, the fragrance of creamy red pepper tomato bisque reached his nose, and he very nearly broke down in tears again. His favorite soup. It was a recipe he and Joe had perfected together through the years. Watching Joe quietly ladle it into two bowls, Nicky felt something clench in his chest.

“Hayati.”

Joe spun around. “Nicky! Are you feeling better, my heart?”

“I am.”

“Oh, good. Are you, uh…” Joe’s eyes flickered to the floor. “Are you still angry with me about the garlic thing?”

Nicky crossed the distance between them in two strides and threw himself into his husband’s arms. Joe stumbled back, a little startled, but quickly pulled Nicky close and buried his face in Nicky’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Nicky.”

“No. No, Yusuf, please. You did nothing wrong. It is I who should beg your forgiveness, having treated you as I did. You've shown me nothing but kindness, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Joe shook his head in protest, nuzzling his nose into Nicky’s neck.

“I saw what you wrote in the shower,” he continued. Joe stilled in his arms. “I- I don’t know if you meant for me to see, but…”

“I forgot to erase it. But everything I write is for you, Nicolò. It’s yours.”

“It was beautiful. Beautiful, and heartbreaking. Forgive me, my all. Forgive me for raising my voice at you, for making you feel alone. Forgive me for walking away insteading of talking to you. And forgive me for dragging you out into that storm at this hour to come searching for me, it was beyond cruel to make you drive so far-”

Joe pulled back, eyes round with tears, and gently pressed his palm to Nicky’s lips.

“Stop it. Please. Don’t apologize for calling me when you needed me. Where would I rather be than at your side? I meant it, earlier. Nowhere in the universe is too far.”

Nicky held Joe’s hand to his lips and kissed his palm. A tear slipped down Joe’s cheek as he swallowed a sob. Nicky wrapped a hand behind his neck and rubbed soothing circles into the tense muscles there. After a few minutes, Joe's breathing evened out, and he lifted his eyes to gaze at Nicky with unguarded adoration. It would be so easy to just let this go, Nicky thought. But the knowledge that he had hurt Joe stood like a wall of glass between them, and Nicky felt it would drive him mad.

“Joe, I- I need to hear you say it. If you forgive me, that is. I don’t know, tonight has just been a lot. Please, hayati, I-”

“You are forgiven. You are always forgiven.”

Nicky exhaled, feeling the glass wall shatter. He kissed Joe’s temple softly. “Thank you, my love.”

Joe tilted his head slowly, dragging his lips up Nicky’s jaw until he could capture his mouth in a melting kiss. Nicky responded with ardent devotion, backing Joe up against the refrigerator and holding him there as they kissed again and again. It was only when he grew light-headed from lack of oxygen that Nicky pulled back. Still, Joe whimpered at the loss of warmth, reaching out for his husband.

“Nicky…”

“Joe, you have no idea how much I want to stand here kissing you all night. But you’ve prepared this wonderful dinner. I’d hate for it to get cold.”

Joe laughed, a joyous thing that swept Nicky off his feet just like it had the very first time he'd heard it.

“Alright, let’s eat. But after dinner we’ll cuddle on the couch under the heated blanket and I’ll hold you to your promise.”

Nicky smiled fondly, unable to help leaning in and placing one more kiss at the corner of his beloved’s lips. “Please do.”

[wouldpollyapprove]

Edge of London: Part Two

Summary: A friend of Billy’s from the poor side of town, Y/n had never met his family until she was forced to bring him home after he got high. A spark is ignited between her and his brother, Sean, but she is hesitant to let it grow as she will never be enough for a man who runs the city.

Sean Wallace x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mention of alcohol

A/n: I am so happy with the amount of requests I have for Gangs of London. I honestly thought no one would care enough to want to read any fics about it. This part is a little short, but I promise the next one will be longer.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Masterlist

Sitting in the passenger seat, opposite his brother, Billy was starting to question whether he had made the right decision or not. On their way to the pub Y/n worked at, he knew Sean would eat her alive and he wasn’t sure if he could watch that happened. It wasn’t that he feared his brother’s intentions, they might have been the softest he’d had in ages, he feared Y/n wouldn’t know how to handle him.

Y/n wasn’t rough around the edges like his brother. She was soft and sweet, not one to start up conversations with people she didn’t know. Though, her problem was more with people she already knew, who had high expectations, than those she knew nothing about. Billy wasn’t shy about talking about his family and so Y/n knew that he came from money. At first, she was nervous to be around him, believing she wasn’t good enough to even be in the same room as him. But Billy wasn’t stuck up and didn’t throw money around everywhere he went. It didn’t take long for her to grow more comfortable around him, he acted more like an average person than she had expected

Warming up to his brother would take much longer.

Everyone knew who Sean was once he walked into the room. Like their father, Sean threw his weight around, wishing everything to bend to at his will. In every sense, he was the man that ran London. Too sure of himself, Sean wasn’t prepared for the rejection he would soon be faced with. 

Parking the car, the pair walked to up to the pub. At least thirty minutes before happy hour, there were few people littered around the room, leaving many of the booths open for occupants. Billy led the way, heading straight to his usual booth. It was right next to the bar and when things were slow, Y/n would usually sit and chat with him.

“This is a nice place,” Sean commented after a quick glance around the place. For once, he wasn’t wearing a boring suit, dressed more comfortably in a plain t-shirt and denim trousers. “Had no idea it was here.”

Billy shrugged, whilst waving down a bartender. “Don’t know why you would. You never step foot in this side of town.” The bartender, Julie was her name if he could remember right, waltzed up to the table with a smile. Flashing her a smile, he asked, “Is Y/n here yet?”

Julie nodded, “Yeah, I assume you want me to fetch her for ya?”

“Please.” With that, Julie disappeared and Billy turned to his brother. “Don’t expect her to like you.”

Sean shook his head with a grin. “Come on, Bill, she’ll love me.” Billy rolled his eyes. “I know she’s your friend and I respect that, just give me a chance.”

“Alright,” he muttered before he caught sight of Y/n walking towards them. “Y/n!”

Excited from the thrill of a small rush, she jumped in front of her friend, not seeing the man that sat opposite of him. “Bill! Didn’t think I’d see you here after the other day.” She stuffed her hands in her apron pocket.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, memories still hazy from the other night. “Well, we wanted to get out of the house.” Billy gestured to his brother. Y/n smiled at Sean, surprise in her eyes. “Thought we’d come visit you.”

“Fun, fun. I assume you want the usual?” she asked her friend. Once he nodded, Y/n gave her attention to Sean. “And what about you?”

“Whiskey, straight. Please,” he answered with a smile.

Y/n nodded and was on her way to get their drinks. It felt odd to see Sean during the day, outside of his house. Even worse when she remembered how eager she was to escape his house and hide in the comfort of her car. Though she didn’t know him except for what came from his brother’s lips, his ego could be felt from ten feet away. There was no way she would sit with the pair if things got slow. She knew what would be talked about: business, money, and expensive cars. She’d dealt with enough rich men to know what topics were always on their minds.

Not even ten minutes later, with drinks in her hand, she went back to the table. “Here you go.” She placed the drinks in front of their owners. When the men’s hands were wrapped around the cold glasses, she swatted Billy’s shoulder, signaling for him to scoot over. As much as she didn’t want to sit with them, it was better to rest her feet while she still could. 

“Yeah, just take my seat, why don’t you?” Billy teased, making room for her. 

“Oh, whatever. You’re not dead so quiet complaining. Did you get a lecture or are you too good for that?” She glanced between the two brothers.

“He’s too old for those,” Sean said, lips turned up in a teasing grin. 

Y/n nodded, “Right…” Glancing around the room, she had no clue what else to say. With Billy they could talk about anything. Fish, movies, fucking rats dressed in period clothes. Their conversations were always weird, but that’s how their friendship was. To them, it was normal. With Sean in the mix, she knew neither her nor Billy felt comfortable discussing anything they would alone. 

Before Sean could start up a conversation, Y/n slide out of the booth when a large group of men walked through the pub doors. As time went by, she made little appearances without a tray of bears or a couple of glasses in hand. Any hope that a conversation could be made with her was drained like a bucket full of holes. Perhaps it was a bad idea to come to her work when it would be nothing but busy. 

Billy and Sean tried to entertain themselves, but there was little they could talk about. The two never had much in common, each living in a different world. All that was on the table was childhood stories that they could barely tell without sulking over their dead father. They were about to give up, pay for their drinks, and go back out the way they came. 

Though he wasn’t close to the victory he was after, there was no way Sean Wallace was going to simply give up. An idea, rather adventurous, came to mind. 

“I’ll meet you at the car,” he waved his brother off and headed to the bar. Y/n was in the middle of stirring an old fashion when he approached. “Y/n, I have a question for you.”

Meeting his gaze, her lips formed an ‘o’, signaling for him to continue.

“We’re hosting a charity gala next week, since you’re a friend of Billy’s, I thought perhaps you’d like to come.”

What was she to say to that? She’d never been to any gala, the close thing were school dances, but those weren’t the same. They were a place for teens to blow off steam and do things away from the watchful eyes of their parents. Galas, on the other hand, were of serious nature. There were no tears, no drunken stumbling after being broken up with during a slow dance, no shame in not dancing at all. It was meant for adults, not immature children.

But that wasn’t the point. 

The point was that Billy’s brother was asking her to go and she saw no way out of it. “Um, yeah, um…” she struggled for words. “Just let me know when.”

He smiled at the tiny victory. Better to have something than nothing at all. “I’ll have Billy tell you the details.”

All Y/n could do was watch him, a sweet smile on his face, as he turned to the door. She knew not to expect much from the man, he was just like the rest. But something told her to have a little hope, it wouldn’t kill her. Sean Wallace may not have been what she wanted, but how was she to know if he wasn’t what she needed. 

Only time would tell her that.

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to either the series taglist or permanent taglist.

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[maskydoolovesmasseffect]

Mass Effect Tag

Wellio, I’ve been tagged by @berryshiara. Passing this on to @grummel83

Gunna answer my questions now. Y’all feel free to tell me what you think of these answers. ​

I’m a fan since: 2008. I was just out of high school and still not over KoTOR. I was fresh in the army and got to talking to some other dude fresh to the army about video games. He asked me if I played Mass Effect. I said no. By the next day I just about totally forgot about him, then he suddenly appeared out of nowhere sat in front of me in the chow hall and pulled a copy of ME1 for Xbox 360 out his pocket like he was a magician doing a magic trick (ACU pockets are huge.)

Anyway turns out that guy was a romance option and I must have picked the right dialogue options. I’m still with him, too.

Favorite game of the series:

Mass Effect 2. It seemed like that’s the one where choices mattered most and you really got to know your squaddies. Also MAJOR gameplay improvements over the first game. And that game gave me the most freedom to do basically whatever I wanted and wasnt afraid to give me consequences for it.

MShep or FShep:

FShep. Nothing against MShep, but for me the real Shep is FShep. Can’t beat Jennifer Hale’s voice. 

Earthborn, Colonist, or Spacer:

Colonist. I like having the background of knowing just how dangerous the galaxy can be and how the Alliance can’t be everywhere at once so sometimes you need to manage your best on your own.

Biotics or Tech:

Both.

Paragon or Renegade:

Paragon, mostly. I tried being renegade but some of the actions are just so pointlessly dickish, or even outright unhinged in a way that would make it impossible to believe the Alliance would ever promote Shepard as an officer or even keep her in the Alliance at all, especially in the first game.

That said, there are times where a renegade action is more expedient and practical than a paragon one, like in 2 when you stab a dude in the back to prevent him from repairing an enemy gunship, so even with a paragon playthrough, my Shepard will have no issues taking that opportunity. She’s already seconds away from betraying all those guys anyway.  

Paragon in treatment of others, renegade in combat pragmatism.

Favorite Class:

I play as infiltrator and vanguard.

Infiltrator is great for using a sniping and opening loot, and then for going invisible, and if I remember right AI hacking too. That’s cool and I wish there were more genuine opportunities for stealth.

Nowadays I play as Vanguard in my playthroughs mainly just so my Shepard can be canonically biotic for story reasons. From 2 on when looting no longer needs a special skill and I get to charge around the map. I don’t really care much about using biotics (that’s what the squadies are for) but the movement is super useful (when Shepard actually does the thing instead of just standing out in the open soaking up bullets until the ability decides to actually work.)

Favorite Companion:

Garrus. I like to set him up in sniper positions. When he actually STAYS where I put him instead of running straight up to enemies to try to snipe them at point blank, he’s great.

Also his quips in 2 on are pretty entertaining.

Least Favorite Companion:

Garrus, Oh my god. Go back to the sniper position where I put you. Leave tanking to krogan; you do not have the HP for this.

Also Kaidan in ME1. He can not shoot to save his life - literally.  

My Squad Selection:

For all ME1 playthroughs after my first one, Ashley and Kaidan, just of their comments and because... well... I only have so much time with them.

Apart from that I mainly just pick my team based on who’s likely to have the most interesting commentary on whatever the mission happens to be, squad balance be damned. 

Favorite In-Game Romance:

Garrus X Shepard is my favorite love story. They are just so adorable together and always supportive even when they disagree.

But my cannon romance is Kaidan X Shepard for the drama and angst.

Favorite NPC:

In ME1 there’s this random Turian on Noveria who randomly has like a New York accent and I absolutely adore him. He plays basically no part in the story other than some minor information but he’s just so pleasant to speak to.

“If you need anything, I’ll be here.”

Favorite Antagonist:

Morinth, the Ardat-Yakshi daughter of Samara. Yes, she’s a murderous vampire who will absolutely kill you given the chance... but like, it’s a medical condition. And I really can’t help but feel for ardat-yakshi in general when their only options are to spend their whole lives on the run from justicars out to execute them, or waste their entire 1000 year lifespan imprisoned in a monetary unable to experience the world at all. Yeah, Morinth is evil, but Ardat-Yakshi don’t exactly have a good deal.

Favorite Loyalty Mission:

Grunt’s loyalty mission is the best. I get to help my baby boy, reunite with Wrex, enjoy krogan society being fleshed out, have a kickass battle against a thresher maw, and get a breeding request. It’s nice to have a quest that isn’t about family drama and genuinely gets a happy end.

Favorite Mission:

Despite Citadel DLC requiring everyone to have a deathgrip on an idiot ball, and also basically gloss over some really dark stuff, the whole clone storyline with the whole crew is an absolute ride all the way though, with lots of interesting and unique scenarios, a ton of replay-value, and funny party banter that feels like it came straight out of a Marvel movie.

Favorite DLC:

Again, Citadel DLC. Not only did it come with the story above, it also had all those interactions with past and present crewmates, including a memorial for Thane (finally!), a cool apartment to hang out in, a party, an arcade, and an awesome battle arena. It really added a TON. Also, it’s nice to see Bioware figure out that DLC needs characters - I’m remembering back in the DLC to ME 1 the party never had a single thing to say, no matter what was going on. The fun and wacky Citadel DLC is a far cry from the serious and somewhat dark space opera Mass Effect started as, but as the final DLC capping off the end of the series, it gets to do a silly victory lap (and get the taste of the ending out of our mouths.)

Control, Synthesis, Or Destroy:

No.

Favorite Weapon:

Sniper rifles, whatever I have that’s fast and has high damage output. Also that one pistol that shoots tiny energy grenades. Pew pew.

Yeah I wasn’t really big into the weapons so much. I’m here to get my story on. 

Favorite Place:

The presidium on the Citadel. It bothered me a lot when I couldn’t explore it in the second game. I know it would have been terribly impractical, but as the presidium is just a huge ring, it would have been cool to be able to explore the whole thing, going past all the little park areas, shops, monuments and so on until you loop aaaaall the way back around to where you started. Like, how cool would it be if the ring had a running track? Maybe C-sec  academy trainees would be spotted jogging together along it in formation. And can you imagine grabbing a coffee (I was going to make up a space-related name for Starbucks but it’s already STARbucks...) and taking a nice stroll along the water before finding a nice bench to alien-watch from? Other locations in the game are like great places to explore and do gameplay stuff, but the presidium seems like a nice place to just be.

Favorite Quote:

"Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer." - Javik.

This is such a fucking raw damn line. It makes me think a lot about Cerberus. When ME3 wasn’t out yet, I thought maybe the plan was Shepard would at some point choose a side, Alliance for paragons and Cerberus for renegades. It would have been so cool to have morality not merely be good vs evil, but idealism vs that ruthless calculus Garrus mentioned. How fucking raw would it be if Cerberus wasn’t just generically evil for no reason and suddenly indoctrinated but really were embodying that ruthless calculus, determined to defeat the reapers at any and all cost. Maybe Cerberus actions’ were more likely to do terrible things for the sake of ultimate victory, doing whatever it took, whereas the Alliance would be less willing to make the terrible choices and ultimately be less likely to succeed.

Now obviously, that’s not what happened, as it would have required Bioware to basically make two entirely separate games. But that line from Javik makes me think of that concept, and a universe where like Dragon Age party members can approve or disapprove of actions not merely as good or evil but along the lines of their personal values. I think Javik would sit at victory at all cost.

Also that one mission in 2 where some random NPC catches Shepard sneaking around and is all like ‘what are you doing here?’ and Shepard is like ‘What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Get out here before it blows!’ and the guy’s freaking out like WTF and she says ‘RUN!’ then laughs to herself as he flees from an imaginary bomb. Shep you troll. 

The thing I like the least about the entire franchise:

The misogyny and objectification that crept its way in, epically from the second game on. Really didn’t like those ass-shot camera angles, or female characters being slut-shamed in-universe for the clothes the designers made them wear. Yikes. 

But the biggest yikes for me in that regard is actually the reveal in 3 that the prothians guided asari development. That was fine and all, but the part that bothered me was the characters commenting “ooooh, so that’s why asari are so advanced,” as it was ever any kind of mystery before that exact moment. For one thing, asari aren’t really shown as being more advanced than anyone else, apart from having discovered the citadel first, and for second, why wouldn’t asari be advanced? All the way from ME1 it’s established that 1: Asari live for a really long time, and 2: can instant transmit information directly from brain to brain. That means they have long lifetime in which to accumulate knowledge and experience, and also can easily spread and preserve that knowledge without even the need for books. That ALONE should put them ahead. And even with all that, they only barely beat the salarians to discovering the Citadel first. But no one asks for an explanation for why salarians, who live only a few decades and can’t do mental data-transfer, are so advanced. No, only the success of the all-women race needs explaining. It was just one moment but it still bugs me. 

Also the general loss of realism after the second game. First game everyone gets armor, including full-face helmets automatically on in environments that need it. After that, people can apparently just wander the battlefield half-naked and even somehow survive in a total vacuum if they just put a plastic cup (that isn’t even connected to anything) over their mouth and nose. In the first game they at least made up some reasonable-sounding science fiction explanation for things, but after that it’s like F-it everything is just space magic now. 

Oh, and those repetitive unlocking stuff minigames. I use a mod to just skip those. 

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 2) John Deacon x Reader Series

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, duh. Feelings of anxiety.

Chapter Notes: A wild Deacy appears! Reader was supposed to meet him in this chapter but it got a bit long. I may have awkwardly stuffed in some backstory as well, but I wanted to get through it before we start having more interactions with the members of Queen. I’m a hoe for Hot Space and Cool Cat is such a vibe so I had to throw it in here. If you haven’t heard the original demo with Bowie you should take a listen. The music video concept was sparked loosely by Mitski’s “Happy” video (it’s gory af, be forewarned). I’m aware that the MTV of the 80s definitely would’ve banned anything like that, but it’ll come back around in the plot later on.

Songs Mentioned:

Heart of the Night - Juice Newton

More Than A Feeling - Boston

My Best Friend’s Girl - The Cars

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​

- - - - - - -

February 1982 - Orpheum Theater, Boston

It’s noisy in the cramped green room backstage at the Orpheum Theater in Boston. Gone were the days of grand arenas while tagging along with Hall and Oates. Now only around 2,000 bodies lined the seats out in the house, but you still feel that familiar bubble of nerves as Dawn busies herself around your hair. 

Dawn, your best friend from your two short years at NYU, had agreed to tag along for the short tour to help with your “look.” Not that you ever really had a problem with your usual jeans and t-shirts, but this rock type of glam proved to be a different beast, and Dawn certainly had an eye for style. Her voluminous hair always streaked blonde and crimped to perfection. She’d tried to convince you many times to do something chemical with yours but you held firm to your virgin hair, causing your pre-show routine to run well into an hour and a half to get the desired popular style. You smile up at her as she curls part of your bangs away from your face, truly grateful to have another woman around.

“Babes, please stop moving your head. I’ve had to do the same piece 3 times already.” She tuts at you. “And Eds, I’ve asked you how many times to watch your elbows, jesus christ.”

Eddie tries to cram in even tighter against the wall, keeping to the five tiny spots you’d all wrangled against the mirror. “Ay, I’m trying over here. It takes some effort to get all this together.” He smirks, running his fingers through his already perfectly coiffed hair. A shame really, that it would be utterly destroyed within 15 minutes of being on stage.

“Have we picked a city song for tonight yet? I want to go over it in my head a few times before we go on.” Lawrence calls out, trying to tug on a pair of pants that look a size or two too small for him.

The Limbs had taken to playing one song per show by a famous local artist from the city they were in. Since they only had the one album out, it was a chance to get the audience singing and moving together; to change up the pace. A modified tip from a certain mustached rock legend that the band had started to implement.

“I thought we decided on More Than A Feeling?” Eddie says as he tears his eyes away from his own reflection.

“That’ll be what they expect. I think Bun sounds better on My Best Friend’s Girl,” Rich says simply. He’s attempting some form of stretching routine in the back corner of the room, his extremities bumping up against the walls.

“So Y/N’s taking this one?” Steve asks, lounging across a small loveseat against the wall, his legs dangling off of it delicately. He looks up from whatever song he’s been working on.

“You heard what the label said. They want Y/N more center stage, so to speak, for marketing reasons.” Rich tries folding his body into some sort of pretzel shape. A light “oof,” escapes his lips as he falls backward slightly.

“Ah yes, we need to give the public what they want,” you huff, wanting to roll your eyes if not for Dawn covering your head in a cloud of Aqua Net.

Eddie starts pacing, or at least tries to, “I just don’t get why they’re trying to make her into some Debbie Harry.” He scoffs, “Like that’s ever gonna happen.” 

Dawn glares at him. It was a bit of a low blow, but Eddie was still getting used to sharing the spotlight with you, with him singing lead on almost every other song. 

You were still struggling to find your presence on stage and were more than happy to take a back seat to the boys for the most part. And while some of the band’s other singles were gaining traction, none were close to catching up to Heart of the Night, which was now getting steady airplay and record sales thanks to the absurd music video that hit TV screens everywhere a few weeks back.

“That’s true, Y/N’s much more of a Linda Ronstadt type if we’re throwing out names,” Lawrence grunts out. Finally able to close the button on his skin-tight pants.

A cold laugh erupts from Eddie. “Exactly. It’s the Eighties now if you haven’t noticed. It’s all about edgy sex appeal, and let’s be honest, even Steve has a better chance of-”

“Enough!” Dawn’s voice sliced through the air, the daggers thrown from her eyes flying towards him. She leans down to your level to examine her masterpiece. “You look as sexy as a goddamn playboy bunny, hun. No pun intended.” Her voice softens as she pinches your cheeks.

The room goes mostly quiet for the next few minutes as the local opening band starts to close out their set with their last two songs. Only Rich’s deep breathing, fitting in time to the beat. 

You chew your cherry painted lips, mulling over Eddie’s words. You knew full well that you weren’t exactly the frontwoman the label or the public dreamed of. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to be a frontwoman at all. When you’d finally given in to Rich’s insistent pestering to come have some fun with the boys, you’d been at NYU for two years. You loved your film classes but felt the hole that was left from the absence of playing any type of music. In high school, you’d all show up to a party with a variety of instruments in your grasps. It almost always resulted in a crowd gathering around to listen, joining in with your voices, clicking their beer bottles in time with the beat. It was when you had felt most carefree, and you had ached for that feeling again.

But playing locally turned into recording an album, for which you wrote a song for some dream of a man that only existed in your thoughts. Next thing you knew you were scooped up by Columbia Records, missing classes to attend photoshoots or album release parties. People were listening to your voice, your song, and wanting more. You dropped out of college to the dismay of your parents but were immediately enveloped in your friends' glee, finally reaching the precipice of something they’d only dreamed of. You hated the thought of letting them down in any way but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all a fluke, that you had nothing else to give. Destined to fade out as a one-hit-wonder and a disappointment to your best friends in the world. The weight hit your shoulders as you slumped in your seat. 

None of this was supposed to happen, you tell yourself. It never happens like this.

You’re broken out of your daze when there’s a rap at the door and a muffled “5 minutes” from the stage manager behind it. You all stand, waiting for Rich to spread his wings and engulf you in your usual pre-show pow wow. You slide Dawn in next to you in the now group of 6, needing someone steady as an anchor.

“If you’d please, Reverend.” Steve probes, cheekily.

“We’re gathered here today” Rich begins and Dawn giggles. “To bring immense joy to those 2,000 idiots out there, who so willingly sold out our show for us. They deserve a performance played to 200,000, so that’s what we’re going to give them. In the name of our fathers, John, George, Paul, and Ringo. Let’s go give em’ hell.”

“Amen!” you all shout and disband.

As you follow the boys into the dingy hallway leading to the stage, Eddie catches your wrist. He looks at you through his long lashes with an uncharacteristically shy smile that almost never sees the light of day.

“I’m sorry for being a prick, Bun. I shouldn’t have said all that,” he mutters as you continue to walk, not wanting to miss your cue.

“No worries, Eds. You were right though. I’m definitely no Debbie,” you force a chuckle at yourself while a roadie slips your guitar strap onto your shoulders.

“It’s not alright. And no, you’re not,” he says catching your downturned eyes. “You’re Y/N fucking L/N, and you’re just gettin’ started, baby. All you gotta do is take a little bit of the love we all have for you and give some to yourself once in a while, alright?” A grin forms, showing his adorably asymmetrical teeth as he reaches out a hand to ruffle your painstakingly perfected hair. “That’s better. Now let's get out there so you can show the world exactly what kind of frontwoman you are. And don’t be scared to show them a hint of Bunny while you’re at it.” You move your guitar out of the way to pull him in for a close hug. You hear Steve start banging his snare and pull Eddie on to the stage with you, feeling a bit lighter than you had been minutes ago.

You approach your mic and take a look out at the packed, hazy theater.

“Well hello, Bawston!’ Your accent rings out to the faceless figures before you. “Aren’t you all looking fuckin’ fabulous tonight!”

- - - - - - -

March 1982 - Musicland Studios, Munich

“No, I didn’t say it’s bad, just that it sounds tinny,” Brian argues, crossing his spidery arms over his chest as he leans against the doorframe. 

“And it’s as if you’ve shoehorned Bowie in there just to mumble in the background incoherently. A waste, really.” Roger tacks on from beside him.

John sighs and leans his head against the back of the couch in the studio. “Just because it’s not your precious red special or your own magic fingers at work, doesn’t mean it’s tinny,” he counters calmly. Trying his best to keep the annoyance from seeping into his voice, knowing that Brian already had anger stemming from John’s earlier composition for the album.

It was the first time this week that all four men were in the studio together. Finishing up Hot Space was proving to be a strain on all of them and the growing rift had caused the men to nearly finish their songs separately instead of in their usual group dynamic. John’s experimentation into different styles, such as funk and disco, had not been willingly received thus far.

“Well, I sound rather fabulous, if I do say so myself. I’m very proud of us, Deacy.” Freddie states, getting up from his own place on the couch and stretching.

“It’s not that, Fred. It just doesn’t sound like us.” Brian sighs, already sensing the escalation of a row coming along.

“Oh please. Not this again...” Freddie huffs.

“That’s because it’s not us. It’s me and Freddie.” John cuts in with a roll of his eyes, landing them on Mack, their producer, who just shrugs and trains his gaze back to the board. 

“That’s for sure.” Roger murmurs out. Now it’s John’s turn to cross his arms as he levels their pointed gazes. He’d worked with Fred for days putting together “Cool Cat,” hoping that the additional vocals from David Bowie would be a selling point for the other two.

With a clap of his hands, Freddie moves about the room. “Why don’t we take a quick break and then give it another listen?” Roger groans. Freddie pats his shoulder as he makes his way over to a radio beside Mack.

John rubs his tired eyes before pushing himself off the couch, eager for a break from the energy in the stale room. “I’m grabbing a coffee,” not offering one to the others as he brushes past Brian on his way out, quickly retreating down the hallway as fast as his legs will carry him.

The remaining three startle a bit as Freddie flips on the radio, Lo & The Limbs hit single pours from it, louder than expected.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Simply marvelous,” he exclaims, jumping up and down lightly. Roger and Brian raise their eyebrows in silent questioning. “This is the band of rascals I was telling you about the other week. They must’ve just broken out here.”

“The yanks you met while in the States?” Roger questions, turning his attention to the song, eager to judge any brimming competition.

“Yes, yes, the wild young lady who swears like the devil and her band of merry giant trees.”

“We have one of those!” Rog nods in Brian’s direction, voice muffled by a cigarette now dangling from his lips.

“Hm, Brain’s more of a willowy spruce, if you will. These ones are giant redwoods. You know American’s. And they have these thick New York accents. I could barely understand a word they were saying at first. What a riot they were.” he remembers fondly.

“I feel as if I’ve heard this before, but I can’t place it.” Brian ponders, almost to himself.

John appears in the doorway, blowing lightly on a steaming mug.

“Probably from that shocking video of theirs, darling,” Freddie waves his hands about. “Oh, you must’ve seen it. They’re all dressed up like they're in Grease or something, and this square of a girl is pinning after the bad boy. But he’s with this slutty little thing. And oh, I can’t recall the details, but in the end, she ends up murdering the slut!” He slaps the table for effect. “But for some odd reason the boy is okay with it all and they run off into the night together, covered in blood.”

“Sounds… spooky?” Roger shrugs. John stifles a chuckle.

“It’s dramatic! And sexy. And obviously working for them.” The wheels already turning in his head.

John tunes out their chatter and trains his ears to said song, which is about halfway through. The instrumentals seem a bit basic for his taste. The soft strum of an acoustic guitar, a slightly heavier electric over it, with a simple bass line. A female voice flits in.

Cool city moon lays its touch on the room,

Your eyes reach to me

It has a rasp to it. Akin to Stevie Nicks, he thinks.

Two shadows fall saying nothing at all,

We know what we need

No, not quite. It’s entirely it's own if he’s being honest. He can feel the soul pulsating through words and the power that’s beneath it. One that could probably fit with any genre it should choose. His interest peaked.

In the release, two prisoners are free from the darkness

One more escape surviving the heartache and madness

The raw emotion erupting from the speakers and the lyrics start to paint a picture in his mind, scrambling to fill in the faceless voice.

In the heart of the night

The chorus starts and picks up steam quickly. Male voices begin to fill in on background vocals, blending together seamlessly.

We run like bandits

Two hungry hearts under the gun

Her voice cracks a bit, in a charming way. It must be radiant when heard live.

In the heart of the night 

When we find each other

Were stealing love on the run

In the heart of the night,

Heart of the night 

A small smile plays on John’s lips as the song fades out. They’re good, he muses to himself, a bit intrigued by the song and Fred’s colorful description of the accompanying video.

“A great voice indeed. They’ve got a strong sound going.” Brian chirps up.

“That’s her first swing at writing, too. Wish it had been that bloody easy for us.”

“Is she a looker, Fred?” Roger wags his brows.

“Oh please, they’re practically babies! Although that drummer of theirs is certainly something to write home about… Even with the head of hair he has. A bit like a mushroom. A cute one.” Freddie ponders, stroking his full mustache.

John reaches up and pats the tight curls atop his own head, wondering how it would look if he ceased from trimming his current short perm.

“I do hope they catch on here. What fun that would be.” John readily nods along without realizing it.

Freddie switches off the radio and turns back to the other three men. “Alright back to it then. Queue it up, Mac,” placing a hand on the man’s shoulder and raising his eyebrows. “Shall we?”

- - - - - - -

March 1982 - Columbia Records, New York City

“Why are the undersides of my knees sweaty? I’m not a back of the knee sweat kind of guy, alright?” Lawrence fidgets, adjusting his collar for the fourth time in two minutes.

You casually gulp down your third glass of water while staring at the wood-paneled walls of the office. Attempting to avoid the gazes of a number of gold discs lining the walls, the echoes of your musical idols. They seem to be laughing at you.

Steve partakes in his trademark bouncing routine, the chair underneath him squeaking in a violent rhythm. “Do you think it’s the video? It has to be the video or we wouldn’t be in this office. I knew we shouldn’t have taken that big of a risk right out of the gate.”

“You gotta be kidding me. You basically doused yourself in the blood when Eddie pitched it!” Rich cuts in, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found.

“What! It was your idea for the--”

The door behind where the group is gathered swings open and in strides a stocky man with a full beard and tinted aviator sunglasses still covering his eyes.

“What are we all standing around for? Sit, sit, sit, c’mon.” His gruff Brooklyn accent ringing out as he moves to sit behind a large mahogany desk.

The Limbs scramble to fit on the couch across from him, with you ending up perched on the armrest, gripping Rich’s bicep for support.

The man, Walter Yetnikoff, CEO and Chairman of Columbia Records, grunts as he eases into a leather chair, finally removing his glasses, revealing surprisingly kind eyes, “Jeez louise, look at you kids. You look as if a nun just caught you all playing with each other’s junk. What’s with the faces?”

“Mr. Yetnikoff, we’d like to sincerely apologize for the backlash that has come from our video. We should’ve known better than that. We could’ve toned it down… a lot.” Eddie rushes out. He wipes his hand over his too-snug tailored pants, probably leftover from days of youth choir.

Walter barks out a laugh. “I’ll admit I was a little shocked to find out that’s what you needed a high school gym for, but relax a little, will ya? You’re not here to be scolded. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have fought so hard to get it airtime.”

The Limbs visibly relax- a tad, but their eyes all stay wide.

“Well aren’t ya gonna ask why you’re all here then?”

“W-why are we here?” Rich asks quietly. “Sir.” He adds.

“It seems that the slight PR crisis of a video you made has made its way across the pond,” Walter smirks.

“You mean…” Steve trails off in a voice two octaves higher than usual.

“You kids better like air travel because there’s gonna be a lot of it in your near future. The hit has broken into the London airwaves and they’re not as god fearing as viewers here seem to be. We’re sending you over there next week now that you’ve wrapped up the tour.”

“Holy shit!” Lawrence yells. You feel yourself falling back off your perch as your large friends all jump to their feet. Rich’s gangly arm luckily catches you and pulls you immediately into a suffocating hug. “You did this, Bunny!” He screams in your ear. “You did this!”

“Alright, alright, you can all go celebrate and drink your faces off in a second,” Walter calls out over the group who immediately shut their mouths. “We have a few details to iron out but I’m hoping to send you over there for a full press tour. Photoshoots, interviews, talk show appearances. The works, you got it.”

Steve lets out a squeal of delight, his voice not yet returning to its usual bass.

“You.” He points a stubby finger in your direction. “I’m waiting to hear back about a last-minute cancelation on some game show out there. We’re gonna try to get you in. You know your shit?”

“W-what kind of shit, sir?” You ask from the bear hug that Rich still holds you in.

He holds up his hands, gesturing to the gold discs that surround him. “Music, my dear.”

All you can do is nod, not wanting to think about what that even entails.

“That’s what I like to see. Now get outta here so you can all combust somewhere outside of my office. We’ll call you in a few days. Get those bags ready, you hear me?” He waves you all off.

Before you have a chance to say anything, the boys are sweeping you out of the room. And off to the start of whatever comes next, you guess.

[kerwritesthings]

The Exquisite Taste of Love

Summary: Everyone’s love language is different and special, getting to share that with the one who you call your heart is something else entirely

Word Count: almost 5.2k (Oops? But not really!)

Warning: tooth rotting sweetness, a touch of naughty and a whole lotta of love

Author Notes: What started out as inspiration from a gif, because the muse likes her pretty, evolved into the idea of a cute little Valentine’s Day blurb which then morphed into a bit of a love letter to the folks in this crazy corner of fandom who have been my biggest cheerleaders when it has come to my writing, with such open arms and friendship. My Valentine’s Day gift to them (and even to the rest of you) – but specially for @whenidance​, @parkerdavis​, @sinplisticshawn​, @fallinallincurls​, @illumecherry​, @hollandraul​ - y’all will notice little special fun in here for each and every one of you. My little love language gifts to you <3 

This, as always, falls again in line with this little world I’ve created, but again can be read as a stand-alone one shot piece, however I would recommend taking a read so you understand the build and the dynamics  – the masterlist of everything can be found here. 

“Can we do a baking night, like a date night?” he inquires, slinging himself against your back and nuzzling into your neck as you finish packing the cookies scattered across the kitchen island into Tupperware. You tried to get a jump on it this year, it’s your tradition to always gift your friends and family little homemade treats for Valentine’s Day. This year, you included adding in plans for special batches for some of Shawn’s team and his family, as well as a surprise for Shawn himself. Tonight’s adventure was for the folks whose items must hit the mail to get their treats in time.

“Wait, did I hear you right?” you giggle. “You, you’re asking to do something in the kitchen? By choice? That has nothing to do with trying to mix drinks?”

“Hey,” he whines, drawing out the y, licking sloppily at the side of your neck. “Can’t get better if I don’t try to learn right? And this is fun stuff, not like chicken or broccoli or pasta.”

“Baking is a lot more precise though than cooking. You need to follow recipes and instructions down to a tee,” you explain. “But you’re right, you won’t get better without trying it more. We’ll start with something a little on the easier side. I was going to do salted caramel cheesecake brownies and chocolate covered strawberries for your family to drop off on Friday. We can make them together.”

“Yay,” he replies, blowing a raspberry against your skin. “What else do you have to do?”

“Nothing else tonight thank goodness, these baby Linzer tarts and chocolate cherry truffles were enough,” you tell him as you package up the last of the chocolates. “I still need to make chocolate pretzel drops and spritz cookies for my office. The boys are going to get the crazy squares they inhaled the last time they were here, so I’m going make those for them. Need to figure out what to send the rest of your out of town contingent. Maybe Nanaimo bars. I may have something up my sleeve for you too, but you will have to wait and see on that.”

He shifts you about in his hold, pressing you into the back of the island before kissing you soundly. “I love that all my folks are now tangled up in your traditions, especially when they don’t need to be.”

“Of course, they do,” you state so matter of factly with a smile. “They’re a part of my life now too. You love them, so. Hell, I even have come to love some of them, despite me questioning why on a few.”

He laughs, swinging you around in his arms before sitting you down on the island before cupping your cheeks. The next thing you know, he’s kissing you again, “I love you. Now let’s plan out the next couple days of your crazy baking adventures.”

The next night while he’s locked away in the studio, Skype session with some of the LA crew you think, you at least get the dough made for the spritz cookies, settling in the fridge to chill, and the crazy squares done for his friends here at home. You’re elbows deep in coconut shortbread when you hear him padding down the hall.

“Ok whatever that it, it smells amazing. Coconut, vanilla and what else is in that?” he asks, hopping on the counter behind you. His long legs start swinging and his socked heels tapping against the cabinets like he’s a child.

“These my dear, are the Nanaimo bars. Or at least my version,” you explain, pushing your hair back off your face with your forearm not to get dough all over the place. “More coconut, vanilla and caramel than chocolate. It’s a coconut vanilla shortbread base, it’ll have a vanilla bean studded caramel custard in the middle. That’s in the fridge already, then I’ll do a chocolate caramel coconut topping for them. Figure little taste of Canada to send out to the rest of your folks.”

“I have no idea how you do it, but it looks and smells yummy. Think we can find candles that smell like this somewhere? That’s a scent I could get used to around here. Could sneak one on the road too, have for when I’m missing you,” he replies, poking his nose in some of the new Tupperware you have on the back counter by him. “What are these? They smell different, they’re not that.”

“Those are the crazy squares. It’s basically like a kitchen sink cookie, but in bar form. And since your friends are human garbage disposals when it comes to eating, I think it’s a good choice,” you get out through a laugh. “Oatmeal, chocolate chips, pretzels, potato chips, peanut butter and a little bit of toffee.”

“My little baking machine,” he comments with a tiny grin, stealing a small bar from the container he was sniffing in. “Damn, these are really good.”

“Shawn,” you yell, flicking the towel that was over your shoulder at his knee. “Those are gifts! No eating the presents. You’ll get your own treats.”

“’M sorry, but not really,” he mumbles through a mouth full of crazy square. “Ooh! We need cards to go with these.”

“What? No, baby we don’t,” you try to explain. “The gift is the goodies.”

“Nope. Cards. Have to,” he says, hopping down from the counter then hip bumping you. “At least for my parents, my sister, and then of course Didi and Tomas too. Maybe a stupid one for Cez to make him laugh.”

He drops a kiss to the tip of your nose, “I’ll handle it. Where did you stash all that extra craft stuff from when you had the A and all her girls over? The fancy scissors and all the paper?”

You have no idea what he’s up to, but you know you’re not going to be able to get him off this train. “Clear bin. Guest room closet, right hand side,” you describe. “Should be the one right on top.”

He scurries off and you just have to roll your eyes, biting back the giggle bubbling up. He’s such a softie. You love it, despite your reticence on his need for cards.

While you finish off the trays of bars, get the spritz cookies in the oven and start the chocolate pretzel drops, he’s stationing himself in the living room cross-legged in front of the coffee table. He’s awfully quiet, minus a hum here and there. You only hear the shuffling of papers and the click swish from scissors. You decide to let him be and have his fun, it gives you the time to finish off more than you were planning for the night.

When you’re done, you come out to a living room that’s just exploding with cut out hearts, but no Shawn. There’s a chain of them hanging from around the television, scattered piles over every table like confetti, a few bigger ones at the center of the coffee table in front of the couch.

“So, I may have been a little sneaky,” he confesses from behind you, arm wrapping around your hips to draw you towards him. “I made a few to use as cards but I wanted to do something a little randomly special for you early, since you’re doing all this baking for everyone when you really don’t have to.”

“You are such a squish Shawn,” you whisper, before leaning your head back on his shoulder. “It’s adorable. I love it. Thank you, sweetie.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair.

There’s a massive vase of white roses and jasmine when you walk into the house the next night after work, sitting smack in the middle of the kitchen island, another cut out heart, this one bubble gum pink with silver writing on it, propped up against it.

So you can take the time to smell the roses, and the jasmine too. Can’t wait to bake with you later. Be home by 7 – xo S

“What is he up to now?” you mutter to yourself, not hearing anything in the condo other than the click of your heels on the kitchen tile floor. You find another bouquet in the living room, a smaller version in your bedroom on your bedside table, a new jasmine candle in your bathroom next to a tiny glass holding a fresh sprig of jasmine along with a tiny white rosebud and even a little spray of them on your desk in the guest room that doubles as your home office. You should be getting everything ready in the kitchen for the big bake, but you sit on the end of the bed needing a minute. You pick up the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Didi responds quickly. “You never call unless something’s wrong. Wait, did he propose finally? Is there a ring? You’re not pregnant, are you? Shit girl I told you...”

“Damnit Dee. No, breathe,” you try breaking through on your best friend’s babble. “There is definitely not a baby. Shit’s sake. Not doing things reverse order. Plus, there’s new album and tour and life. So no, not that. And. When there’s a ring, it’ll be a FaceTime, not a phone call. He just. Last night it was cut out hearts everywhere. Today, I come home. The condo’s filled with white roses and jasmine. Everywhere.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “You cry yet?” she asks softly.

“No,” you sniff. “Close though. I think I only mentioned this once. Of course, he remembers and then goes and does something like this.”

“He’s your person, girly,” Didi replies. “And a mushy lovey fucker for you at that.”

Your best friend is right. He is. “Thanks D, I needed this. I gotta go though I’m sorry. I’m attempting to teach him brownie baking tonight. I still need to change and get everything ready before he’s back at 7. I’ll text you.”

Quickly you throw yourself together as best as you could, changing and pulling everything you need to together along with moving the flowers in the kitchen to the living room. You’re rinsing off the strawberries when you hear his keys hit the lock.

“In the kitchen,” you call out when the door shuts.

“Good day?” he asks, head leaning in to place a kiss against your shoulder, his lips cold against your skin exposed by your tank top.

“Better when I got home,” you reply, leaning your head against his still pressing against you. “You’re a crazy boy, and I don’t even know how to say thank you for it. They’re beautiful. All of them.”

He kisses your shoulder again, before shifting to trail his lips up your neck, nibbling at your ear before a lingering kiss to your cheek. “Love you is all,” he states casually. “Let me change and then I’ll be back in for my lesson.”

While he’s gone, you decide to get the strawberries out of the way first. Brownies will be the more complicated of the two, so to start easier will be a good idea. He comes back in as you’re breaking up the chocolate bars into a large glass bowl.

“Chocolate covered strawberries first,” you begin. “They’re the less difficult of what’s on the agenda and we should get them dipped and set in the fridge before the oven gets on and warms the kitchen. Normally I’d melt and temper the chocolate over a double boiler, but not fussing with that tonight. It’s breaking it up, adding a little bit of oil and melting it in the microwave. Then we just dip away. I’ll finish on the milk, why don’t you get started on either the dark or the white, then I’ll do the other when I’m done.”

The both of you find a rhythm, breaking and chatting, sneaking in a kiss here or a prolonged touch there while you get the chocolate ready.

“Now, that those are melted. We pat the strawberry dry to make sure the chocolate will stick,” you explain, showing him the first one. “Hold it closer to the end of the stem and swirl, leave a little bit showing and let it drip the extra chocolate off, then place it down on the wax paper. Once they’re all dipped, we can drizzle another color chocolate over it with what’s left.”

“This isn’t so bad,” he declares after a few rows of berries are done. “Though, I think I know a way to make this a little more fun.”

He dips his finger around the edge of the bowl with the dark chocolate, pulling some off the glass. He eyes you carefully, crooking the chocolate covered finger at you.

“Shawn,” you question.

“C’mere,” he requests. You move slowly over, his non chocolate covered hand grabbing a strong hold against the curve of your hip. He takes the chocolate laden finger, tracing your bottom lip first, then the dip between your collarbones, chocolate sticking carefully against your skin.

“Dessert before dinner, yum,” he whispers, a breath from your lips before sinking into them. Licking his way into your mouth, you can’t help but slide your hands into his hair and moan. It was dirty and deep from the start, but when you flick your tongue against his, you feel his grip on your hip tighten even more.

He breaks from you first, trailing his lips down your cheek, across your neck to latch onto your collarbone and the chocolate he left there. You don’t want him to leave a mark, but secretly, you’re hoping he does.

“Baby,” you whine, hands gripping at his hair harder as he bites and sucks along the line of your bone. At this rate you’re going to be so bruised. He nips his way back up your neck before sipping at your lips again, leaving you breathless.

“Mmm, well you’re quite delicious, I think like this baking thing,” he grins like a cat who got the cream.

“It’ll be my turn soon, don’t you worry,” you proclaim, trying to stir the rest of the chocolate back to life. “Let’s finish these off before the chocolate starts gets too firm.”

He slides behind you, leaning in flush against your back, “I could make a really bad joke here, you know.”

You feel him, half hard and snug against your ass.

“Baking, Shawn. We’re baking,” you remind him with a sigh, while arching back to tease him. “You’re the one who asked for a baking date night. There will be more of that after if you’re lucky and you behave.”

He bites at your earlobe, grinding into you once. “Can we keep some chocolate for later then?”

You push back at him, “Says the one who isn’t always keen on chocolate.”

“But it’s chocolate off you, it automatically tastes better and makes me want more of it,” he proclaims with a cheeky smile, sliding over to the sink to wash his hands.

You make quick work of the last of the berries, getting the trays into the fridge so you can finally get going on the brownies.

“Salted caramel cheesecake brownies next,” you say as you pull the bricks of cream cheese from the fridge and the blocks of butter off the back counter. “Two different batters, but they’re both pretty easy. We start with the brownie batter first, then whip the cheesecake batter, swirl the dulce de leche through that, then swirl that into the brownie batter. Drizzle it all with a little more caramel, then sprinkle on some flaky sea salt before popping them into the oven.”

“It’s unfair how you make it sound so simple and easy,” he notes, watching you measure out cocoa powder. “I see that recipe and it’s like 38 steps long.”

“Not that many. Come over here, I promise let me show you, it’s not hard,” you slide your arm through his to pull him closer.

“That’s what she said,” he quips, poking at your side. The two of you plug away step by step, first on the brownie mixture, before starting in on the cheesecake. While you trust Shawn to continue keeping an eye on the whipping cream cheese in the stand mixer, you break out the jar of dulce de leche you’ve had warming slowly in a warm pan of water on the stove.

“Now that it’s done, and once this is a little cooler, we’ll drizzle some of this in there to make a ribbon through it before adding it into the pan with the brownie batter,” you describe, popping the lid carefully off.

You dip your pinkie into the warm sugary syrup, “Mmm liquid gold. This is perfect.”

Shawn snags your hand before you get a chance to wipe it on the towel, popping your pinkie into his mouth.

“Damnit Shawn,” you husk out as he works at your finger with his tongue. While he’s preoccupied, you quickly poke another finger from your left hand into the jar. Payback, you think, is a bitch. You slide your pointer finger down the line of his jaw before taking it down the line of his neck. His eye pop open and grow wide, sliding your finger free.

You don’t give him a chance to say a word, latching onto his jaw. His hands grasp you immediately, one lacing around the back of your head to hold you to him, the other square on your ass. You take your time, just as he did earlier, licking and nibbling your way through the sweet caramel until you hit his skin.

“Sweetheart,” he moans, almost bordering on a growl, when you hit that spot on his neck that drives him crazy. The hand on your ass draws you closer to him, sliding his thigh between your legs. You keep at that spot, you know there’s nothing coming up so if you do mark him up, which you want to do badly, there’s no real repercussions.

“Shit, baby,” he whines, needy and desperate as you keep up your assault on his neck. You make quick work on the rest of the dulce, sliding right back up to exactly where you know you can get him keening. Kitten licks at first, then tiny bites soothed by a bit of sucking. You keep the pattern up for a few passes, his skin warm under your tongue, warm until you know they’ll be a bit of a reminder tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he bites out, drawing you up and away from his neck to bring you up to meet his eyes.

“Something wicked this way comes,” you smirk, licking at your lips.

He dives for your mouth, hot and hard and fast until you’re both out of breath.

“Now, think we can keep our hands to ourselves to get these in the oven?” you pant. “And when your mother asks how we made these together, we do not tell her about the soft-core porn action in the kitchen.”

He kisses you sweetly, softly, “I think it would be a fun story though.”

You roll your eyes, pushing at his chest, “Brownies, swirling, salting and into the oven. C’mon.”

You both manage to keep your hands, and your lips, to yourself for the rest of the process. You cannot help but chuckle, watching him salt the brownies ever so carefully. “It’s like icy snow,” he proclaims, grinning like a little kid.

Once in the oven, you split clean up duty and then start to pack up the berries off the trays.

“I feel bad that I can’t go with you to drop this all off tomorrow, but there’s no way I can duck out early enough,” you lament, shifting the berries about to make sure they’re not going to be smushed in transport.

“The fact you made all this for them, from scratch no less, is more than enough,” he insists. “I normally just send flowers. Which I’m still doing for both of them. This is just over the top extra awesome.”

You can’t help but smile, “They’re my family now too. Well, close enough you know? I love them…”

He wraps you in a hug, “I love that you consider them yours, cause they are. Absolutely, they’re your family. Now, let’s finish this and go cuddle on the couch until the brownies are done.”

Before leaving for the office, with Shawn still cozy in bed asleep since you’re up a good deal earlier than normal today, you slip out the red box you’ve had hidden in the back of the pantry out onto the kitchen counter. Inside, a few smaller red containers, filled with his treat surprises for the day.

You steal one of the blank hearts from the dining room table, a white one, for a note.

For my darling, the first of a few surprises for you today. Despite your recent affection for chocolate, here’s a little something to start your day. Through the day you’ll find little things here and there, just small little sweets that I know you adore, maybe as much as me. Because my heart, you have mine and I want to spoil you a little today. Love you valentine xo <3

You prop the note against one of the larger containers, this a perfect square. The first time you ever made him your lemon lime scones, it was one of first nights you stayed over. He waxed poetic about them for days. You knew they had to be a part of his treat trail today. This time though in a mini version. The second box, a smaller thinner one, you slide into his guitar case, filled with rolls of homemade strawberry fruit leathers. A third box, shortbread thumbprints with sour cherry jam, you place in his studio by his journal. The fourth, in a tin on top of the corner chair in the living room where he leaves one of his guitars out always, most difficult of the treats you made for him - tequila laced gummy bears. The final, and a last minute addition made last night when he was half dozy on the couch and thought you were boxing the brownies, a few chocolate covered caramels that you leave by his keys at the front table as a nod to last night’s funtivities.

You grab the bag filled with the baked treats for your office and head out the door. When you finally arrive at your office, a few minutes late because of your hiding duties at home and setting up your treats for the team in the kitchen, you’re greeted by a bouquet of blush peonies and antique roses.

“Came in just a few minutes ago,” Rosalie, the office receptionist tinkers gleefully, peeking her head into your office. “Do we get to see that boy of yours today? That would be a lovely Valentine’s Day treat.”

Rosalie, who is old enough to be your grandmother but has the energy level of a teenager, absolutely adores Shawn. They’re thick as thieves, getting along together immediately. She mothers the heck out of him when he comes to see you, helps him sneak things into your office, the two of them gang up on you to make sure you’re fed and hydrated when you’re pulling late hours, and is an absolute godsend when you work remote if you’re out on the road with him.

“Not sure,” you smile, smelling one of the blooms. “I know he’s heading out to Pickering at some point to see his family. Not sure what he’s got up his sleeve or has plans on for later. I’m being surprised. Best not poke at him and ruin whatever he’s got going.”

“Just let him know his smiling face is missed around here ok?” she nods, heading back towards her desk.

You snap a quick photo of the flowers and fire off a text – Happy Valentine’s Day indeed. They’re so pretty, thank you! <3 ilu :) xo

You’re knee deep in trying to clean out your inbox when your phone chimes. A selfie, his bed head in full force and he’s smiling around one of the scones in his mouth. Omg you made me the Sprite scones! AND THEY ARE TINY BABY SIZED ONES I CAN FIT IN MY MOUTH ALL AT ONCE! Followed by alternating string of lemon, soda cup, green and yellow heart emojis.

He finds the thumbprints next, a photo of a cookie next to him giving you a thumbs up, more emojis again this time alternating the cherries, red lips and red heart. Where did you find the sour cherry jam? I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. OR DID YOU MAKE THIS TOO?!

Immediately after was a boomerang, the tin of strawberry fruit rolls, rocking and rolling back and forth. Followed by strawberry emojis between kissy face smileys. These taste exactly like you do after we go strawberry picking in the spring and you sneak berries along the way when you think no one is looking. But I always am.

It takes a little longer for the next find. You’re in the middle of a conference call when your phone starts buzzing. A gif of a worm with a sombrero on, tipping back on a bottle of tequila. How the hell did you make me seriously boozy af gummy bears? They’re as big as my thumb! I can’t have these before heading out to the ‘rents. I’m drunk already from just smelling them.

You have to mute your line and laugh heartily. This right here made it all worth it. His reactions are priceless. You’re so glad the little surprises are making him this silly happy.

The next one, about half an hour later, is a voice memo.

“You sneaky, naughty little minx,” he husks out, voice deep. “Chocolate caramels. You knew exactly what I’d think of, didn’t you? I’m in the car trying to get out and through downtown, but now all I can think about since finding them are your breathy little moans, your hands in my hair and your mouth at my throat. Fuck baby, you definitely left the best for last. I snuck them in the car to have one on the ride, but there’s no way I can even try one now.” He pauses for a beat; a hard sigh escapes his lips. “Just you wait until later. Now, I need to get out of this tangle you’ve got me in before I get home to my parents. I’ll be back by the time you get home from work. I love you sweetheart.”

Thank god you didn’t put that on speakerphone. He sounded like pure wicked sin, plain and simple. He’s got you in knots now too. You just need to get through the rest of the day in one piece. Thankfully, your boss kicks the entire office out early, partially because of her own plans, and partially because of the long weekend stateside. You’ll take it. Hopefully you can beat Shawn home to be able to maybe shower and change before he gets back.

A cute video comes through as you walk out of the office, from his sister. “First off, I’m mad at Shawn for not bringing you with, but then he said you had work. So, I let it slide. A little at least. Then he let us open the goodies. You made all our favorites! You’re the best. Please come visit, or let’s plan another girls’ night and we’ll kick him out of the condo! Wait wait, hold on. Someone else wants to say thanks!” She pans her phone to the kitchen and flips the camera around. “Sweetie, thank you so much for all the treats. You will need to send me the recipe for the brownies, they’re delicious. I still don’t believe Shawn helped you with all this, if that’s the case, congratulations for getting him in the kitchen willingly. And without disaster, I hope at the very least. I’m hiding some so maybe there’s still some left when Manny makes it home. Let’s figure out dinner all of us together next week. Love you!”

Warmth spreads through you as you navigate your way back home after that one. You’re floating at this point. However, you did not luck out in beating him back as you walk through the door. There’s a litany of white pillar candles of all different heights and thicknesses everywhere in the living room, flickering as if they’re just lit. There he is, ensconced in the corner of the couch, guitar slung across his lap. He smiles, patting the open cushion next to him.

“I will spare you from the ultimate perfect yet cheesy Canadian Valentine’s Day, singing some Celine Dion love song to you,” he jokes, pressing a lengthy kiss to your temple. “But I did dig through someone’s playlists to find something. Mind you, this is only part of your gift, which will never rank up against all that you did for me today. That was, just, ridiculous and perfect and sweet. So damn thoughtful, babe. I loved it.”

He leans over to quickly press a kiss at the corner of your mouth before diving into the song.

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through. You're barely waking and I'm tangled up in you,” he sings. “I’m open, you're closed. Where I follow, you'll go. I worry I won't see your face light up again.”

Your breath sticks in your throat. Your brain scrambles slightly, eyes clouding up. You miss him sing the chorus the first go, the blood rushing through your ears.

“I'm quiet you know. You make a first impression. I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind. Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine. Out of the back you fall in time. I somehow find you and I collide,” he continues. “Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I collide.”

You sniff as he finishes, shifting his guitar out of his hands to move behind you before throwing yourself into his lap, arms tight around his neck. “So, you’re going to need to record that for me, so I have that to sing me to sleep when you’re out on tour. Honey, that was just…”

You trail off, leaning your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath and your words all at once. His hands a steady hold on your waist, fingers trailing up and down slightly.

“Just when I think you’ve permeated every part of my heart already, you go and do something like that,” you profess honestly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips. “So much.” He draws you closer, arms tightening around you. His heartbeat a tether to yours, a steady rhythm in time with each other’s beats. 

TAG LIST: @whenidance, @parkerdavis, @sinplisticshawn, @hollandraul, @fallinallincurls, @itrocksmysocks, @rainbowshawn, @lasingphomustra, @illumecherry​

[queenofthelanternfish]

Disclaimer: I am once again posting my gf @anesther‘s lovely fics to my account in order for it to have some chance of showing up in the tags. Definitely read it, it’s steamy!!!

-

AN: A much longer chapter, and it probably wasn’t smart with my hands but here we go!

Title: Interfaces

Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, featuring quite a few characters

Pairing: Entrapdak, implied Catradora and future Scorpfuma

Rating: M (smut found its way in)

AO3 is for better times.

                                                          Party

“You are cordially invited to a party held at Bright Moon by Queen Glimmer,” Entrapta reads, holding up the invitation. She looks at her communicator, “Why would you send out an invitation if you’re going to call us directly?”

“I got excited!” Glimmer says. “It’s been a while since we had a proper celebration of any sort, and I feel this is a good way to bring everyone together for a little bit.”

“Did you not host an event a few months ago?” Hordak asks over Entrapta’s shoulder.

“No, that was a picnic. Which you two didn’t come to,” Glimmer pouts, crossing her arms.

“Sorry, but we really were too busy to go,” Entrapta says, scratching her cheek. “We will be able to go to your party though!”

“Really?!” Squealing, Glimmer points at the two of them, winking. “I’ll see you two at eight sharp. And you don’t need to dress too fancy, it’s semi-formal!”

With that, the communicator is turned off. Entrapta returns to her mechanics, welding a piece of metal together. She asks, not looking at him, “You don’t mind going, right?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be a waste of an evening. Besides,” Hordak touches her shoulder. “You would encourage me to attend.”

Entrapta flips up her mask, “That I would!”

                                                              -

The dining hall, even for a semi-formal party, seems to be packed with people.

Hordak walks down the steps with Entrapta, staring straight ahead. Entrapta, meanwhile, has her gaze darting everywhere, paying attention to the decorations and individuals.

“Entrapta! Hordak!”

They turn, Glimmer teleporting right in front of them. Entrapta smiles, “Hi!”

“Hello,” Hordak nods.

Glimmer appraises the two of them, “You two are looking good. Love the pantsuit and dress combo.”

“Thanks!” Entrapta looks down at her outfit. “I’ve had this for a while, but I never needed to go out to a party before.”

“Well, be sure to mingle! Refreshments are at the table,” Glimmer tells them.

Hordak watches her walk away. Dusting off imaginary debris from his dress, he glances at the balloons and string occupying every corner of the vicinity.

Entrapta grins up at him, “Do you want to get a drink?”

“Why not,” Hordak replies. Entrapta shuffles on her hair, staying at his eye level. “I thought this was supposed to be semi-formal.”

“Truthfully, I don’t know if what we’re wearing counts, but Glimmer seemed to be pleased with our choices,” Entrapta says. Reaching the table, she leans down, hands folded together. “Ooh, tiny cupcakes!”

Taking a plateful of sweets, Entrapta and Hordak walk over to one of the standing tables.

“Entrapta! There you are!”

She turns, swallowing her sip of soda. She smiles, “Hey, Bow!”

He grins at her, “I thought that was you. Hordak, how’ve you been?”

“Well, thank you. And yourself?”

“I’ve been doing okay. I’ve been helping my dads with their library, for right now, in order to make sure that they have their records on Etherian wars and the First Ones updated.”

“Has it really been taking a long time?” Entrapta asks, holding up her plate.

Taking an offered treat, Bow bites into a cookie, “Amazingly, yes, since the majority of our contents are mislabeled.”

“Have you been making any new inventions?”

“I’m glad you asked, Hordak!” Bow says, ecstatic. “Look, I brought all these new types of arrows, and some technology Glimmer calls Spy Stuff.”

Entrapta lifts an arrow with a strand of hair, sipping her drink, “What’s in this one?”

“It’s one of my explosion arrows!”

“Don’t you have one of those?” Hordak asks. “I remember having that blow up in my face.”

Bow gives a sheepish grin, “I’m still sorry about that.” At Hordak’s offhanded wave, he continues. “And no, this one explodes but it releases smaller pods that also explode. It’s a kinda diversion arrow, I guess.”

“I say this because if you change around the compounds in your arrow, you will be able to produce a more effective explosion that spreads out a fire.”

“It’ll take down anyone!” Entrapta laughs.

Bow mulls over their answers, “Hmm, that would be useful if we needed it again.”

“You could use it for prescribed burning,” Hordak suggests. “Right,” Entrapta agrees, turning to Bow. “Isn’t there an area Perfuma needs to clear away in her kingdom?”

“That sounds like a good idea! I’ll begin tweaking after,” Bow says. “What about you two?”

Together, they begin to discuss the latest inventions they’ve been working on for the past several months. Entrapta and Bow add a layer of zeal to Hordak’s calm demeanor that is relaxing for the three of them. Hordak finds himself at ease, despite knowing that there are folks staring at them, or, more rather, himself. Despite the length of time gone by, Hordak isn’t oblivious to the wary gazes from some of the other guests.

“Hey, if it isn’t the best inventors on Etheria in their little clique!” Glimmer says, appearing in a dazzle of stardust. “How’s it going?”

Bow and Entrapta grin at her, “Going great!”

“Hordak?”

The three of them turn to him, expectant.

“Uh… I’m having a fun time?” Hordak says, intelligently.

“Really?” Glimmer asks, leaning forward to him. “You mean it?”

Hordak gives a thumbs-up.

“Yay!” Glimmer and Bow cheer, feeling accomplished.

“He wouldn’t lie,” Entrapta says to the pair, draining the last drops of her drink. “We are having loads of fun. This is quite the party you set up.”

“I got everyone here, and some of the other princesses showed up too,” Glimmer informs them. She glances behind the three. “Oh, Mom! Dad! Come here.”

Hordak’s ear twitches as he looks at her parents, former enemies and fairly tenuous allies. While Glimmer has taken to him well, Angella and Micah are staring at him with neutral interest. In truth, he feels the same about the previous king and queen.

“Everyone is enjoying themselves!” Glimmer announces, hands on her hips.

“I am glad to hear that this is going well,” Angella says, choosing her words carefully. She looks at Hordak, “Are you finding the festivities to your liking?”

“Yes, thank you,” Hordak says, standing upright. He gives a low, respectful bow, “I appreciate being invited to your home.”

Micah and Angella glance at each other, then their shoulders grow lax.

Micah gives a small smile, “That is good to hear.”

Glancing at Glimmer, Angella steps up to him. She extends her hand, “Thank you for coming. If I may ask, would you care to accompany me to the dance floor? I would enjoy the exercise.”

Keeping his surprise to himself, Hordak looks at Entrapta, who gives an encouraging motion.

Staring at them, Glimmer returns to her conversation with the rest of her friends.

Hands pressed together, Angella spins with Hordak in place. Wings tucked firmly behind her, she steps to the side, “I have heard from Glimmer that you have been helpful in restoring Etheria. Is the progress going well?”

“It has been,” Hordak answers, lacing their fingers together. He gently twirls her body, her footfalls light. He raises a brow, “I know you couldn’t have asked me to join you unless you wanted something from me.”

“What would that be?”

“To interrogate me.”

“I wouldn’t use the word interrogate,” Angella says to him, twisting on the ball of her foot. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she stares at him, “I would use the word ‘threaten,’ if needed.”

“A waste of time, Your Majesty,” Hordak replies, voice low. “I have no malicious intent toward your daughter or kingdom. She asked me to be here.”

“I know,” Angella tells him. “She has allowed bygones to be bygones. And while I have seen that you are not up to your old ways, I wanted to discuss things with you privately. We haven’t been able to talk alone in all this time.”

“I understand the concern, however, I don’t find it prudent or wise to insinuate that I’m biding my time to destroy your planet.”

“A person can never be too sure.”

“If I had ill will towards your people, I wouldn’t have joined the Rebellion in the final battle,” Hordak says, tone clipped.

Angella throws a delicate glare at his direction, “Be that as it may, I wanted to be certain that you aren’t going to harm us in the future. Can we trust you?” At one point in time, they couldn’t have. But he has changed, gone through a metamorphosis that he never expected to undergo. The time spent on Etheria, not as a warlord, but as an individual, showed him how many wasted years he had spent in the name of vengeance and bloodlust. His lack in valuing other lifeforms stemmed from believing that no one had value, least of all himself. He was born to destroy, and that was the end of it.

“I do not expect you to forgive me, or even trust me,” Hordak replies, slowly. “But I promised someone I care about that we would live differently, treat others better. I trust her above all else. And I trust myself to amend what damage I have done.”

Angella lifts an eyebrow, then her gaze softens, staring at nothing. She whispers, “When I lost my husband, I hated you. I hated you more than words could express. Then I felt… numb. So numb I couldn’t bring myself to fight you. As if all life in me had been leached out. I felt this ache in my chest every waking moment. That hatred of you became apathy. I wanted you gone, but at times it felt...” Angella’s voice fades for a moment.

“It felt as though I simply wanted it to be over. In the worst part of me, I wanted you to win, to win and end my suffering. I failed my husband, so what good was I to lead, if I couldn’t protect those close to me? I wanted to be with my beloved, and if it meant giving up my kingdom… I didn’t care. And now I feel as though I have to make up for that, by ensuring your loyalty has changed, because, in those moments of weakness, my loyalty to my people and daughter didn’t matter.”

“I…” Hordak glances at the ground. Then he directs his gaze at her, not breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I truly am sorry for the pain I caused you. And more so, knowing now what it means to lose someone you care for.”

Angella looks at Hordak, allowing herself to pirouette around him, “You do?”

“I never had a person I cherished before. I never thought someone would want to be with me. I had… formed these ideas in my mind, that maybe things could fall into place now, and she would be in them. When I believed she had betrayed me, I barely held my composure together. There was rage in me. And I became more determined to destroy all of you. As wrong as it was, it made sense at the time. It wasn’t simply about conquering another nation, but to hurt people because I wanted others to understand my anger. Then, when I thought she had died…” Hordak’s gaze flickers to the side, before turning back to Angella.

“I thought that was it. For a brief moment, I didn’t care if I won or lost. I wanted to die. But then, all that time I spent, it would be for nothing. So I pushed myself to go on, because then, the little I had left, perhaps it would ease the realization that I failed her.”

Angella pauses in her movements, eyeing her previous foe. He meets her gaze, quiet.

Neither of them are open people. They prefer to keep their insecurities and worries at bay, by either neglecting their emotions or engaging in destructive ones. They once led the opposing sides of a war, growing fractured as years came and went. She had been afraid of him for the harm he wrought, and he had been afraid of her for the victories she continued to gain.

He knows, and she does too, that there doesn’t have to be forgiveness to move forward. Perhaps not now, if ever. But resentment is breeding ground for corpses. So she will give him tolerance, and he will prove that that is enough for her to do.

They stand as the music peters out to silence. The applause doesn’t break their concentration.

Angella gives a curtsy, smiling gently, “Thank you. The dance was illuminating.”

Hordak bows, “Likewise, Your Majesty.”

She walks away to Micah, and he walks toward Entrapta, lost love reconciled.

                                                            -

Hordak finds that their little group has increased. Angella and Micah bid them goodbye after their dance, while Perfuma and Scorpia had joined up with them. The four of them slam their fists onto the table, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” Hordak raises a brow as Glimmer tosses her head back, gulping down her beverage. When she puts it on the table, she holds up her pointer finger. Waiting. Then lets out an enormous belch.

“Ooh, Glimmer wins,” Entrapta announces, clapping.

Bow snaps his fingers, “Aw, darn. I thought I had that one.”

Scorpia slaps his back, “I’m sure there are lots of other things you can beat her at.”

“Like what?”

Hordak stands beside them, “You keep your dignity. Is that not better than a… whatever that was?”

“It’s called a burping contest—” explains Glimmer.

“—Disgusting—”

“—And I won, so there.”

Perfuma giggles, leaning onto Scorpia, “Maybe we should see what else we can play.”

Bow hears a sound from behind. Seahawk stands flexing his muscles on a table, Mermista’s face in her palm.

“Glim, we should probably get him,” Bow informs her.

“Ugh, I thought he’d behave. Excuse us.”

Scorpia looks at Hordak, “We saw you dancing with Queen Angella. I didn’t know you could dance.”

Hordak shrugs, “It doesn’t seem overly difficult.”

“Man, it’s been a while since we hung out. Not that we ever did, but it’s kinda weird you’re not my boss anymore.”

“It’s still hard to believe we don’t have to fight anymore,” says Perfuma. “Which is wonderful, conflict always disturbs my energy flow.”

“Ooh, what kind of energy flow?” Entrapta queries, grabbing her recorder.

As they talk, Hordak allows himself to relax. The conversation with Angella, while not terrible, tired him a little.

“Hey, Hordak.”

He looks over his shoulder, “Hello, Catra.”

His once Force Captain sidles up to them, “What are you guys doing?”

“Perfuma is telling me about her energy flow!” Entrapta says.

Catra smirks, “That sounds interesting.”

“Very much!”

Catra looks up, “Hi, Scorpia.”

She nods, “Hi, Catra. You, uh, look good.”

“Thanks.”

Perfuma and Entrapta glance back and forth between them, with Hordak appearing disinterested.

“Whew, sorry, we’re late!” Adora yells, coming up to the group. She glances around, “Where are Bow and Glimmer?”

“They went to go stop the singing pirate from dancing on the table,” Hordak informs her.

“I should go help too. Catra, I’ll be back,” Adora bounds away, telling Seahawk to mind his manners.

Clearing her throat, Scorpia smiles at Catra, “How’s everything?”

“It’s been good. Adora and I have been great.”

“That’s nice, I’m glad you’re doing good.”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“It is good, yeah.”

Entrapta and Hordak exchange glances.

Perfuma, sensing the odd tension, takes Scorpia’s claw, “Oh, I forgot I wanted to show you this dance move Mermista taught us. Can I?”

Scorpia nods, “Sure! Let’s boogie down!”

Catra sighs as they walk away. Scratching her chin, she says, “I didn’t know they were dating.”

“They’re not,” Entrapta interjects, swinging her legs in her seat. “I think you made it too awkward to be here.”

Catra frowns, “Thanks, Entrapta.”

“You’re welcome!”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Catra turns to Hordak, “You’re quiet as usual.”

“There is nothing to discuss, ergo, I am quiet.”

Dragging a chair over, she sits on it. Taking a cupcake off Entrapta’s plate, she wrinkles her nose, “I never understood the appeal of sugary desserts.”

Entrapta shakes her head, hand on her heart, That is so sad.” She perks up, “Do you want me to see if I can alter your tongue’s ability to perceive sweets?”

“Not today.”

Glimmer, Bow and Adora come up to them, having finally wrangled Seahawk off his ‘stage’ and onto the dance floor.

“I’m parched,” Glimmer says. “I’m going to get another soda.”

“Just don’t burp anymore,” Hordak teases.

“Har har,” Glimmer sticks her tongue out at him.

“What?” Adora asks.

“Entrapta, do you want a refill?”

“Yes, please!”

With a quick teleport, Glimmer takes off and comes back. Tired of being still, they all head to dance in the center of the room. Entrapta and Hordak watch from the sidelines, much better observers than participants.

“You okay?” Entrapta asks, touching his shoulder with a lock of hair.

“Yes, the evening is proving to be tiring, is all.” “When we get back to the lair, we’ll go right to bed.”

Hordak leans on his palm, finding the idea vastly more tempting than anything, “That sounds pleasant.”

Entrapta looks at the dance floor, then back to Hordak. She smiles, “You were really dancing out there.”

“It’s not difficult. It’s simple side motions much of the time.”

“Can I have the next dance?” she asks.

“Of course you can,” Hordak answers. Smirking at her, he leans toward her, murmuring, “I can do a lot more than dance too, you know.”

Slowly, a wide grin spreads across her face, “Do you want to find a room?”

                                                             -

Entrapta drags her mouth along the crook of his neck, breath hot on his pulse.

Hordak’s head tips back, gripping her thighs with his hands. Guiding her hips, she slides onto him. He breathes out when he feels familiar warmth, wet and soft.

Moaning, Entrapta begins to gyrate her hips. Her shirt is unbuttoned, revealing the curve of her breasts. Her fingers dig into his abdomen, gliding them along dark skin. Her hair wraps around his wrists, keeping them at her waist. His thumbs stroke her sides, laying still as she rocks her frame against him.

Breathing out, his eyes shut tight, relishing the feel of her body, strong and secure. Hordak allows his body to loosen, forgetting the world outside this room. Her moans drown out all other sound, the scent of her removing all thought.

All thought except getting caught.

Entrapta grins down at him, and she allows her binding to relax. His hands skim over to her breasts, massaging her nipples through the shirt. Groaning, her back arches, sinking further onto him.

Hordak hisses between gritted teeth, tempted to buck his hips. Her grip tightens, noticing his pelvis shift upward.

She bends low, brushing her mouth over his. His head inches forward, and she inches away. Teasing. Mocking.

Daring.

He thrusts up, causing her to cry out in pleasure.

They glance at the door, and they grin.

Quickening their pace, Entrapta pushes her hips down onto him, the two moving in an easy rhythm.

Panting, Hordak caresses the top of her thighs with his nails, sending shivers throughout her body. She releases one of his hands, and it glides along her frame to her clit. His thumb rubs it slow and gentle, even as she pumps her hips in fast motions on his cock.

Sweat forming on their skin, the two do all they can to make the other scream, all while attempting to be discreet. Entrapta thrusts her body down, Hordak bites his lower lip. Hordak rubs her clit harder, Entrapta covers her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her walls clench around his cock, the sound of their bodies slapping onto one another driving his mind wild. Remembering the talk he had earlier, and he’s all the more glad she’s alive. He reaches up to touch her cheek, throat tight.

Entrapta slows for a moment. She stares down at him, gaze loving. Pressing her hand against his, they don’t say anything. Glad they don’t have to miss each other anymore.

The movements pick up faster than before, trying to make up for lost time, the past mistakes made to stand in the way of what’s happening. Soon, they forget all that. Ministrations become more hurried, and they forget to be completely quiet, allowing their moans to deepen, gaining a little more volume.

Bodies hot, Entrapta and Hordak come together, muscles tensing, then easing. They glance at the door.

Entrapta and Hordak grin at each other, laughing quietly in the dark.

                                                               -

“Hope everyone had fun!” Glimmer shouts at guests disbanding. She turns to Hordak and Entrapta, “And it was nice of you to join us on the dance floor near the end.”

Entrapta beams at her host, “It was a lot of fun! And the food was delicious.”

Hordak bows his head, “It proved to be an entertaining night.”

“Well, don’t forget your party favors,” Bow tells them, handing each a small bag. “Don’t be strangers.”

“Seriously, you’re welcome at Bright Moon anytime,” Glimmer tells them.

Entrapta smiles, Hordak smirking beside her. Bidding farewell, the two wait until they’re well out of earshot before bursting into evil cackles.

“I wonder what they’re laughing about,” Adora says.

Glimmer shrugs, “I don’t know. I'm more wondering why I got a weird feeling again.”

[theshy1sout]

Inseparable - Chapter 3

It's not a Valentine special, it's just another chapter, but I hope you'll be enjoying this as well :3

Tags: Not rated, Broppy, Slow Burn Fluff, Trolls Mythology Au

Ao3 here

Summary: He sounds like his mind is somewhere else when he is looking at the foggy horizon. And then, the god turns to her and stares at her a while until he asks:

- So... How was your Night?

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The hill looks so high today. For the first time since Poppy got her deific responsibility, stepping upon is hard. But she does it without hesitation. She knows she has to. 

The goddess of the Light had enough time to think during the Day. She holds everything she wants to say in her mind, but when she finally faces the god of the Night, the words don't want to come. She even can't look at him. She just shows him the Staff of the Light and let him grab it. In Silence.

Branch stands a few minutes like he's surprised. But then he just turns back and walks away.

- I'm sorry.

The gray silhouette stops halfway on the hill. He turns to Poppy and she doesn't need to see his face under his hoodie to know he is shocked.

- I'm sorry - She repeats a bit louder, but still shyly rubbing her elbow. - I just... I was so thrilled when I got my own duties, I was so focused on my plans and... I was so stupid that I was ignoring you this whole six months. It was nothing but selfish. You were greeting me and I barely noticed that... You deserved better. And... I was trying to fix that after I finally noticed it. But I was just so pushy and stubborn to make you my friend. I always thought we could be a great team, you know? - She tries to smile, but it goes so awkwardly. So she looks down. - I just want to say, it's ok if you hate me or something. I think I deserve that.

Against all of the shame she feels right now, Poppy forces herself to look up at the god. 

- I'm sorry, Branch.

Surprisedly, he doesn't walk away. He stands very still, staring at her, and making the goddess even more guilty. And then he does something, she didn't expect he would ever do.

He takes his hoodie off.

Poppy holds her breath. Branch looks... much different than she imagined. She thought he would look old and ugly for some reason. But he has black but nice hair, his eyes are gray but also pretty, and his face isn't frightening, it looks even friendly... So yes, he isn't very different from other Immortals. To be honest, he is exactly like other Immortals. Which means, godly handsome.

But the most surprising are his words.

- I don't hate you - He says. - I never did. 

And he talks to her with the very same voice that he always uses, but now when he's talking calmer, it sounds much more pleasant, like a quiet lullaby sung before sleep.

- I'm sorry I was so mean to you - Branch adds, looking down. - I thought that you hate me. I thought you were teasing me last week...

- I didn't! - Poppy almost jumps.

Branch chuckles.

- Well, now I know - He smirks only slightly, but it's enough to make Poppy smile at him with pure relief and glee. This tiny smile of his was everything she wanted to see last week. And here it is. She never was so happy seeing such a little lift-up of a corner of someone's mouth. 

- How could I hate the guy who was greeting me for six months without my answer? - She grins widely. - To be honest, it was the nicest thing someone did to me!

- You exaggerated a bit - Branch lifts one of his eyebrows.

Poppy giggles. Maybe it wasn't so funny to giggle, but Poppy is so excited with every minute he doesn't walk away. He stays like he doesn't mind putting his duties on the back burner to talk with her a bit. She doesn't want to finish talking. If she starts talking, she wants to talk as long as it's possible, not just a few minutes! If they can talk, she has to take this opportunity and not let it go!

- Can I go with you tonight? - She throws like an arrow. - Can I see your job?

Branch frowns, pretty confused by the sudden ask.

- Why? I thought you said it's not fun...

- Well, I was wrong about many things... - Poppy looks up, smirking. - So maybe this one either? If you like the Night, maybe there is something to like in the Night.

- Pff, whatever - He huffs, turning around. - But you'll be pretty bored.

- Sleeping is boring, I do not doubt that - Poppy announces and starts following him.

- But please, no talk or singing.

- Oh, come on!

- Poppy, if you want to hear the Silence, you have to be silent.

She purses her lips and crosses her arms on her chest. But even with those radical rules, she tries to hide how excited she is. It is something new, something big. They’re spending time together and if it isn't a start of friendship then she doesn't know what it is! Even if it is supposed to be the borest walk she ever does...

But surprisingly, it isn't boring at all. Firstly they walk through meadows and Poppy sees as Branch carefully closes flowers' cups. He touches the water in the lakes and makes them calm. He finds animals and trolls who got lost in the forest or the mountain or just were far from home and were frightened and he reprieves them and helps them find a safe place to sleep. He's walking through the Earth and wherever he steps, there is peace. After a few hours, the Silence is everywhere. And it isn't overwhelmingly boring like Poppy always thought it'd be. It is pleasant, safe, comfy, filled with the hope of a bright Day. She walks after the god of the Night and listens. The sounds, really quiet sounds of the Silence are in the air like the whole world is one huge organism with rustles of the trees, whispers of the water, calm breaths of the hundreds of millions of sleeping creatures. And in that world, you can never be alone, cause you are always a little part of it, part of everything. 

So no, the goddess of the Light isn't bored. She's fascinated. The Night isn't just Silence, Darkness, and staying very still. It looks and sounds and feels so magical, mysterious, otherworldly. Like the Earth, she knows from the Day's light becomes something much different. Beautiful, but it is a different kind of beauty. And Poppy feels she has no words for that.

- Okay, can you stop already?

Poppy blinks quickly a few times. Is Branch talking to her? Of course, he is, there's not a soul here at this lake. But she did totally nothing but walking quietly after him for a last few hours. 

- What? - She asks the only question she can ask right now.

- What 'what' - Branch looks a bit annoyed. - The sound! You're making it for the last two hours!

The goddess has no idea what he's talking about.

- What do you mean? Do I step too loud? - She looks down at her feet.

- No! The sound! The sound you make with your mouth - Branch points at her face. - Or nose. Or throat. I don't know, what is that?

She looks at him really confused.

- Breathing?

The god groans out. And then she gets it.

- Oh! You mean this - And she starts humming.

- Yes! - He beams. - Exactly! What is that?

- It's humming - Poppy chuckles. - You've never heard it before? It's kinda like... Purring the melody with your throat. - And she hums a bit more to show it out. - Was I humming this whole time? I didn't even notice. Why didn't you tell me earlier?

- Cause - Branch hesitates a bit. - It wasn't that noisy... Or something... - Suddenly he goes all shy for some reason. Then he clears his throat. He cuts the topic with a short "Never mind" and gets down to the water. Then he blows onto the lake surface and makes many little droplets fly away.

- What did you do? - Poppy asks with curiosity.

- A dew - Branch gets up, looking as the blurry fog he made slowly fills the horizon. - If the Day starts warmly and it wasn't raining, the ground needs water to not get too dry in the morning.

- How do you know that I'll start the Day warmly? - Poppy frowns at him.

- You always do.

It sounds like his mind is somewhere else. And then, the god turns to her and stares at her a while until he asks:

- So... How was your Night?

Poppy's face fills with a big, sunny smile.

- It was good! - She beams. - Different than I expected. Much more... Nice and pleasant. Sometimes magically beautiful...

- Beautiful? - Branch almost gasps.

- Sooo beautiful! I never thought I could be so fascinated by the Night. - She glances at the horizon dreamily. But then she blinks and crosses her arms on her chest. - But there is still too much Silence. And there's not a single color or light, it's so depressing! And...

- Okay, I get it! - Branch shows one hand in a peace gesture. - The Night can't be the Day, Poppy!

- No! - She yells, making him jump in shock. - The Night is beautiful, as I said! But it isn't perfect, and I think there are a few things you would chan...

- No. - He interrupts her sharply.

In the first moment, she wants to still encourage him. But then she stops herself. She has already learned a lesson about being pushy. A long breath drops from her nose.

- Okay - Poppy says calmly and sees the lessening of tension on the gray face. Branch turns to the fog he made flowing on the horizon line and sighs slightly. He puts his hoodie on his head to her surprise. She expected that if he puts it off once in front of her, he would never use it anymore. But she guesses she was wrong with this one too.

- It's time - His voice sounds a bit heavy when his gray hand shows her the Staff to grab. Now she realizes the thing. Branch wears a hoodie cause he hates the Light! It's so obvious, but she hasn't got it before. But now it makes some stupid idea in her mind.

- Come with me! - She beams at him. These three words just freeze the god for a while.

- What?

- Come with me! - She repeats as enthusiastically as earlier. - I saw the Night and listened to the Silence. Now I think you should do the same with the Day!

- I've already seen the Day...

- But it wasn't my Day! - Poppy smirks at him. - I've changed it a lot. Wanna see?

Branch huffs, rolling his eyes.

- I assure you it won't change my mind.

- Want a bet? - She takes the Staff from his hand cocksurely. The Light just explodes from the Gold Sphere on the top of it.

He doesn't answer, but she bets that under the dark shadow of his hoodie he smirks at her. She really wants to see that. And she wishes it's only a matter of time from now on.

So the goddess of the Light guides him through every treasure of the Day. With the Staff of the Light in her hand, she makes cups of the flowers open, birds sing, trolls and critters wake up, plants grow, fruits ripen, the lost ones find the way. Everything she touches is vivid and ebullient. Poppy shows the god of the Night every change she has made and she's been so proud of. She jumps enthusiastically from thing to thing, the happiness bursting from her smile is almost touchable. And Branch just follows her with his best friend Silence, patiently listening to her endless loose talk and watching how the simplest thing makes the goddess so excited.

At the end of the Day, after putting vibrant colors on the milky sky, she turns to Branch, grinning stupidly with the whole of her face. Her cheeks have never ached because of smiling before. That is the brand new experience she just finds out and it makes her tired of being thrilled about everything.

- So - She breaths out. - What do you think?

She can’t see his face In the shadow of his hoodie, but he keeps his head upon the sky filled with purples, pinks, reds, and oranges. After a while, he clears his throat and looks down at her.

- Well, it was too loud and too bright as I said it'll be...

Poppy rolls her eyes with disappointment, but until she could answer, he adds:

- But I like it.

The goddess blinks and opens her mouth with surprise.

- I mean... - He goes on. - I didn't expect that you've changed a lot of things. When I used to be the only one god taking care of the cycle, the Day was kind of meaningless. The sky was always bright, critters were screaming in chaos - Branch waves his hand to point out fields around him. -  There was such chaos, one big mess and... And you've made an order with this mess. You've made it actually working and living. I really appreciate that.

And that's... That's exactly what Poppy wants to hear this whole time, after all of she's done. Not specifically from him, but as the words of the god of the Night those are twice powerful. She can do nothing but smile widely and dorkly, cause the agitation just leaves her speechless. And Branch probably doesn't notice it at all, cause he gets his head up on the sky again and sighs quietly.

- And the colors... - He says in a completely different tone. - They are... stunning...

She sniffs, maybe a bit too loud, and dries her eyes from a few tears they have been filled. She looks upon the sky, smiling at the sunset she made the very first Day of her job.

Yeah. It is stunning.

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Index