#<- gave up on the background and mostly scribbled it

[hey-heigo]

taking first watch

the wip doodle and lineart. in my mind they're waiting to get picked up by the future foundation at a safe location (the airport) and trying to get some rest before then - out of the three of them, byakuya is faring the best (kyoko hasn't been sleeping well since even before the last two trials, makoto fell down a trash chute) and so volunteered for the night

[velvet-cupcake-games]

Made Marion Development Update, May 2025

Hi everyone!  Thanks for you patience with our small gap in monthly updates. I'm back in business with the current state of the project and team.

State of John's Route

So chronic illnesses can be very frustrating, and this winter and early spring I ended up struggling a ton with mine. I'd been doing well in the fall, but I relapsed hard in Feb-Apr. The good news is that after three years I finally found a specialist who was willing to try medications on me, and the most common med being used on long Covid kicked in during late April after just a couple months! (It can take 3-4 months to fully feel the effects.)  For the first time since January 2022, I feel... normal. It's very exciting!

On top of the illness struggles, I was having difficulties with the way I'd planned the relationship development in John's route. It just wasn't working for me. After a lot of scribbled notes and cursing, it was a conversation with my first reader that helped me figure out my issue... I needed John to be more flawed and for the main pre-relationship confusion to be two-sided instead of one-sided. This avoids a formerly pivotal scene that I felt was too cliche and replaces it with some lovely angst and flailing. Having figured that out, I'm much happier with where things are going.

This leans into my route theme where Marion and John have a number of things in common as the "responsible one" in their families. Both of them are very hard on themselves and that can lead one to not realize that somebody else might actually be super into you. ;)

So never fear, production has been slow so far but in my new brain fogless state I'll be banging this sucker out over the summer and a fall release should be possible!  Wasn't able to speed up the production rate quite yet, but it will be out.

Team Status

While I'm doing the writing and coding, the rest of the team is on their usual tasks.

Sandra: As we've basically finished the backgrounds (I'm trying very hard not to need anymore!), Sandra has moved to assisting Lawri with cut-in production. Here's one that I particularly like from John's route. What did Roan do to deserve being scooped? It involved shenanigans. I gave Sandra reference pictures of angry cats being held. :D

Arrapso: Only one major NPC sprite left to do, so Arrapso is mostly on CGs now. She'll also be doing a more naked version of our male-identified love interest sprites so that they're not obviously wearing trousers during scenes where they're implied to be naked. They won't have visible genitals, you'll just see their lower bellies and maybe some nice muscular lines down there.

Lawrichai: With Sandra helping on cut-ins, Lawri is able to concentrate fully on the animated lore intro. She learned Live2D over the winter so she could take over the animation duties herself, making for a smoother experience than me using in-engine animation tools.

That's where we are, and I hope to be able to deliver much swifter production updates over the summer!

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 28

Hancock x Nora - A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 23 ] [ 24 ] [ 25 ] [ 26 ] [ 27 ]

//

TW: Violence, drug use, mentions of rape, and trafficking. While there isn't heavy details, the situation is rather grim.

Notes: And so, they finally meet in not great circumstances.

//

Even though Wiseman was patrolling the grounds surrounding the Slog, Nora didn’t go find him to say goodbye. There was a baseless concern that he might try to stop her and MacCready from leaving, and she quite simply didn’t want to chance it. Instead, she scribbled a quick note. It was simple, and to the point. There was no time to extend a heartfelt thanks for all of the help, or apologize for leaving so abruptly but she signed it with ‘Love, Nora’ and pinned it to the chair in Arlen’s workshop. Then her, MacCready, and Dog took off into the night. John was unable to offer up a precise location based off of the Pip-Boy map. Instead he instructed them to make their way to Bunker Hill.

Traveling in the dark post-apocalypse made Nora more uneasy than she already was. A stark memory of sprinting through the unknown dark, John yelling instructions as gun fire riddled the night surfaced. It made her want to turn on her Pip-Boy light, to ward off some of the uncertainty, but she knew better. A light in the dark would call attention. 

For all of Nora’s mounting discomfort and anxiety, MacCready seemed to be the exact opposite. The smartass kid was gone, shoved deep down under the guise of collected professionalism. It was like he was a totally different person. And it helped. A lot. In a moment where relying on John’s emotions in a time of uncertainty wasn’t feasible, seeing MacCready’s calm demeanor gave her something to mirror. Maybe someday these harrowing moments would become old hat and she wouldn’t be so reliant on the people around her. It was something Nora both wished for and dreaded.

It took just under three hours to make it to Bunker Hill. The monument still stood, tall and proud and mostly intact. It was almost eerie, seeing the towering obelisk jutting out from the remains of the old buildings, a tall shadow with the sun rising in the background. As they grew closer to the monument John’s voice drifted across her consciousness. 

“Stay there for the rest of the morning, sunshine. Send MacCready and we can pick you up on the way back.”

“No way,” Nora replied, her voice lowered into a whisper. “You need help, and we’re almost there.”

“This isn’t how I wanted our first meeting to go. You shouldn’t have to see this.”

"Well, none of this has gone how you wanted. I’d say this is pretty par for the course."

"Ha. Yer a riot." 

"You’ve been there for me every single time I’ve needed you. It’s my turn."

Once they got to Bunker Hill, John was able to help them navigate through the rubble and ruin of old old buildings. He directed them up one street, then down another, weaving them through downtown Boston. When the warehouse building came into view, John informed them that they had arrived at their destination, and told them where the entry door was. Before Nora could even start approaching the building, MacCready grabbed her forearm and pulled her back into the shadows of a looming building. 

“You’re going to stay here and keep your eyes on that door,” MacCready instructed. “If you see anybody that isn’t me you’re got to fire your gun twice. Pop-pop, understand?”

Nora nodded.

“Then I want you to hide. Back into this building and lay low. I’ll come get you.” He gestured to the building behind her, her eyes followed. The building looked as if it was scorched black. Big yawning windows revealed a similar interior, dark and ominous and filled with debris. 

Dog plopped down beside her, his paw swiping out towards MacCready. 

“Protect her, boy,” MacCready murmured, giving one of Dog’s ears a quick scratch. “Make sure she does as she’s told.”

It was only after Nora gave firm verbal acknowledgement when MacCready started jogging away. He went to the end of the block, peaked around the corner, and then disappeared from view. Time slowed to a crawl again. Dread clotted up her throat again. Nerves, and anxiousness, and worry made it almost difficult to breathe again. Any moment spent not getting in and helping John was another moment where possibility could rear its ugly head. 

Her eyes remained rooted to the door.

It wasn’t overly long ago when she was cursing John’s existence, and now she was making herself sick with worry over what could happen to him. There had been deployments like this. Too long stretches of time where the bond was blocked between her and Nate, and all she could do was worry over all of the terrible possibilities and listen to the haunting silence between them…

When MacCready came jogging into view, Nora sighed with relief. He made a waving gesture for her and Dog to join him and when they did he asked, “Everything still okay in there?”

Nora repeated the question.

"It's okay as it's going to get. 

"He said it's okay-"

"- as it's going to get. There is no part of any of this that is okay. Nothing is okay in here, but... it's... not gonna be getting any better." 

"Let's go,” Nora murmured.

As soon as MacCready opened the door, Dog charged inside. MacCready stepped in after, rifle at the ready, and Nora followed behind. The second she crossed the threshold she made sure the door was closed and locked. 

The light was useless enough that MacCready gave her the go-ahead to turn on the Pip-Boy’s flashlight. The hall was doused in green light, shining against metal shelving and catching on the harsh shapes of lockers. There was a lone door at the end of the hallway, and what looked like the remnants of a timeclock. 

MacCready knelt suddenly, plucking a shotgun from the ground just beside the entrance. He was quick to press it into her palm.

“It’s Hancock’s. Be careful with it, it’s got a bit of a hair trigger.”

Nora looked down at the weapon, making sure her fingers were nowhere near the trigger and the barrel was pointed at the ground to the side as opposed to at her feet as she holstered her pistol. The weapon suited him, somehow. It looked like it belonged to a man dressed up in a red frock, with an old tricorn hat, and enough confidence to fill the harbor. 

MacCready continued down the hall after Dog who was already snuffling at the opposing door. Nora had just started to follow when MacCready shoved the door open, rifle tucked up into his shoulder with his finger ready at the trigger. The hall was briefly filled with cold light as MacCready moved further into the building. 

“Oh my god, Hancock. What the–”

The door started to drift shut, slow and leisurely. 

“Hey,” came the gravely, rasping voice of her soulmate. Nora’s steps faltered. “This ain’t my fucking circus, okay?” The door shut with an echoing thud, leaving Nora in the entry hall.

Nora's stomach lurched. Her emotions had been in flux since learning that John was going on some kind of solo vigilante mission. Then when he had reached out, in pain and barely lucid it took all she had not to get sick. She was worried, scared, and anxious; and yet despite the circumstances there was a new, bubbly excitement. Nora was going to meet her soulmate for the first time. She lingered in the hallway, looking down at her dirty vault suit and selfishly wishing she looked cleaner, more put together. 

This wasn’t about meeting John. She was here to help people. 

Gathering up her nerves, she stepped forward, reaching for the door, only to stop short when John’s voice drifted across her consciousness.

”Hold on, sweets.” His voice was a soft whisper, ”It ain’t pretty in here.” 

“I know,” she said, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. “But it’s probably nothing I haven’t seen before, so—“ The door swung inward, and it startled Nora into backpedaling a handful of feet. Light filled the entry as the shadowed figure of her soulmate stepped from the room. The door shut. It felt like finality. The end of a chapter of her life, and the beginning of another one with John.

John who looked inhuman and otherworldly in the green light coming from her Pip-Boy. He could be the monster in those old creature features that Nate loved. Even still, it was John. Her John. Her John with his arm in a makeshift sling. Her John looking like he had just been through hell. Her John gazing at her with his shining onyx eyes, like she was the only thing that existed in the whole world. 

There was a sudden yearning to close the distance between them; she ached to touch, and hold, and never let go. There was a tender warmth that radiated from his end of their bond. It felt hopeful, and hesitant. It made her smile.

“Fuck,” he rumbled longingly, stepping in to an eager approach. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”

“H-hi,” she managed. 

“Hi,” he rasped, reaching for her with his good arm. As soon as he was close enough he was touching her. The pad of his thumb caressed the length of her jaw, then his fingers slipped along the nape of her neck, into her hair. She lifted her hand to touch him in turn — she wanted to touch his chest, his shoulders, wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him tight — she pulled up short. She remembered his pain. Specifically, she remembered it being just about everywhere.

“You’re hurt—“

The arm in the sling reached up to take her hovering hand. Nora gasped, ready to rebuke him for aggravating an injury, and then he settled her palm to his gnarled cheek. The fingers on the back of her neck flexed as he closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively. She stroked her thumb over the stippled flesh covering his cheekbone.

“I—“ he expelled a breath. “Fuck—I—“

The hand at her neck tugged her close as he leaned in. She closed her eyes. The movement felt as if he was pulling her in for a kiss. She felt the anticipation between them, felt the need, and the building warmth and yet she knew she wasn’t ready for it. Maybe the kiss itself would change that. Or maybe it wouldn’t. She didn’t want to find out. Not here. 

John dipped his head down as he pulled her close, and instead of bringing her in for a kiss he instead pressed his forehead to hers. 

Nora’s eyes popped open, only to see that his were drifting closed. He looked nearly euphoric. The tension in his shoulders eased. His body seemed to sag with relief. He stepped in closer, their bodies brushing. Completion. A piece that had been missing for far too long had finally found where it belonged.

He whispered, “You’re finally here.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

John’s smile was lazy, bordering on dreamy as he purred, “Worth the wait.”

Nora bit her lip to stop herself from practically beaming at him. “How’s your arm?”

“Arm’s fine.”

“How about your ribs?” 

“I have plenty of ribs. Ribs are fine.”

“Your chest?”

“S’fine.”

“Pride?”

“Oh, honey, it’s pretty fucking bruised,” he chortled.

When she choked out a quiet laugh, he opened his eyes, meeting hers.

He swore. “Just fucking look at you—“

Suddenly, there was screaming, terrified and shrill. Nora’s attention snapped to the source. The moment in time where her and John were the only people in the world shattered and they were back to the cold, terrible reality. John slipped the shotgun from her hand in a movement that was completely seamless and all flourish. The door was pushed open, and he stepped inside with his gun raised. Nora followed, drawing her pistol from its holster. The second she stepped into the room, she instantly regretted it.

There were two bodies on the floor, one riddled with bullet holes, the other with a gaping wound to the throat. Blood pooled around them, dark and daunting in the icy fluorescent lighting. There were cages in the room, and even though the cage doors were open there were people inside. They were naked, hurt, but most looked to be asleep from her vantage point - all of them except for the screamer. This place was a nightmare. It reeked of something Nora could only call horror.

In front of the screaming woman was MacCready, his hands up in surrender. It looked like he had gotten too close to the cage, and the woman lashed out. The back of his hand was bleeding with what looked like claw marks. Nora skirted around John and made her way to the cage the screaming woman was in. 

“RJ?”

“I–I just tried to help her get out–”

“It’s okay,” Nora soothed both MacCready and the woman. She abandoned her weapon and her backpack, not wanting to supply the woman with anything that would hurt herself, or hurt others. Slipping back into her confidence was like putting on her favorite dress. This was something that she knew. This wasn’t tussling with a deathclaw, or navigating the apocalypse. This was a different kind of fight she had seen in another life, and while she wasn’t a professional, she was at least familiar. It would take a gentle hand, and a bit of patience. They needed all of the patience in the world, and yet time was ticking.

“Hey,” Nora crooned gently. She leaned in to reach for the shrieking woman. Her hands lashed out at Nora’s, hitting and clawing weakly. It would appear that the swipe at MacCready had taken the majority of her energy. “I’m here to help, okay? Sssh…” All the kind words meant nothing. The woman had probably heard plenty of gentle coaxing words that lead to pain. It was action that would mean the most, but talking everyone through the process helped; announcing action, and following through. “I’m going to take your hand, okay? Easy…”

The energy left the woman in a visible way. The flailing arms faltered and flopped. Her naked body drooped and her screams broke into quiet, ragged, choking sobs. Accepting an inevitable that, this time, would not come.

It was then that Nora took the woman’s hand. It wasn’t a full fledged palm-to-palm grasp, but something tenuous and easily broken should the woman put up more fight. 

“No more, please…”

Nora crooned gently, shifting to crawl into the cage to join the woman. She ignored the mess staining the bottom, focusing on helping any way she could. 

"No one here is going to hurt you. I promise. We're here to help."

"N-no more..."

“No more,” she agreed, happy to feel the woman’s hand shift to solidify her grasp on Nora’s. Kneeling before the woman, Nora peered back over at John and MacCready, both watching at a distance. "Are there any clothes they can wear?"

"If you can call them that," John said, keeping his voice pitched low and subdued. 

"Anything will do. Let’s get them out of here.”

//

Tag/s: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl  / @yamatra / @bubblegum-bee-otch / @brainsplat

[binbogummy]

Humans are —

An intermission of sorts?

This was originally going to be at the end of chapter 6 or the beginning of chapter 7 but I just decided I didn't like the way it flowed with either, so consider this a little tumblr exclusive intermission I didn't have the heart to scrap completely.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | * | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | *²|

Chapter 10| Chapter 11|

~

As the night settled in, Aziraphale had excused himself downstairs again and Crowley finally returned, sipping something dark from a lowball glass and retaking what was practically his designated seat at this point.

You were currently curled beneath your blankets, still feeling comfortably heavy from dinner, which had been more soup, as an episode of some show Crowley had picked, but neither of you had really been paying attention to, droned in the background to fill the silence.

"Aaaaaand finished~" The demon announced, tossing the pencil down on the nightstand and handing the notepad back to you before reclaiming his glass.

It was a picture.

Of you.

Touché.

Or at least, it was you if you were a sickly orphan, wrapped in a blanket with big, watery eyes and an exaggerated frown. He had even sketched the tiny bell beside you, with a completely unnecessary little ding ding written above it for emphasis.

You scoffed, completely affronted.

"Nailed it, yeah?"

You quickly shook your head, making a dramatic X with your arms before hastily scribbling a message.

You mock me in my time of need?

Crowley barked out a laugh, lifting his glass in a mock cheers gesture. "Indeed I do."

Feeling spurred on by both the demon and the creeping boredom of being in bed all day, you narrowed your eyes and slowly, deliberately, reached for the bell on the nightstand.

His expression barely had time to shift before you gave it a single, sharp ring, making him snort so hard into his drink he nearly choked.

The sound of Aziraphale's hurried footsteps echoed up the staircase before you could even smirk in triumph. The door swung open, and the angel reappeared, his expression immediately shifting from mild surprise to full on maternal panic as he took in the sight of you, upright, bell in hand, looking completely not in distress.

"What is it? Is everything all right? What do you need?" His eyes scanned your face, flickering to Crowley briefly as if he might have caused you some great misfortune in the short time he’d been left alone with you.

Crowley managed to cool his expression into something mostly neutral, except for the barely suppressed twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

You hesitated for only a moment before lifting a single finger and pointing at the demon.

Aziraphale’s expression darkened into something dangerously close to warning. "Crowley."

Crowley scoffed, tossing his head back dramatically. "Oh, come on!" He gestured toward you, feigning offense. "I haven't done a thing."

"That remains to be seen." The angel stated flatly.

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, shaking your head as you waved a hand to dismiss whatever false accusations Crowley assumed you were making.

Just wanted to see if you'd actually come, you wrote out silently with an apologetic tilt of your head.

Aziraphale studied you for a moment before sighing, though his disapproving frown was softened by fond exasperation. "Well, I'm glad to see you've still got some spirit, at least." He picked up the ice pack you'd set aside earlier and pressed it to your forehead, attempting to ease you down. "But I do believe it's about time we all turn for the night, don't you?"

"Again with the early bedtime, Angel? Got her on a proper schedule now, do we?"

"She's still ill," Entirely unbothered, Aziraphale made sure the ice pack was resting securely on your forehead before pulling away. "Must I reiterate for you again the importance of rest above all else these cases?" He challenged lightly.

Crowley, of course, was entirely undeterred. " But consider this-" He leaned forward. "What if she stayed up just a biiiit longer?" He suggested, tapping the side of his temple as if this was a groundbreaking thought.

"And what exactly would that accomplish?" Aziraphale shot him an unimpressed look.

"Morale," the demon declared. "You've got to factor in morale, Angel. Can't have the patient feeling too miserable, now can we? Might even set her back. Who knows?" He waved a hand vaguely. "Humans are sensitive like that, you know. Let her stay up a bit. Finish an episode or two~" Not that either of you had been watching whatever was playing in the first place.

Aziraphale sighed, turning his attention away from Crowley's nonsense and toward you, still laying snugly in bed.

"My dear," he cooed, leabing over you and smoothing the blankets down for good measure. "Are you feeling particularly miserable?" His tone was indulgent, but there was an underlying sincerity to it, as if he genuinely wanted to be sure you weren't actually upset with the idea.

You blinked up at him, pursing your lips in exaggerated thought and tilting your head slightly as if you were really considering it. You held the act for just a second longer than necessary. Just long enough to make him anticipate a dramatic answer, before shaking your head no.

Achy? Yes. Weak? For sure. Still feverish and congested? Absolutely. But miserable? Nah.

The angel gave you a soft, satisfied hum, looking entirely pleased with himself. "There, you see, Crowley? She's not miserable at all," he said smugly, smoothing a hand over the blanket once more as if sealing the argument with a final, gentle touch. "In fact, I'd say she's quite content. Aren't you, dear?"

You made a faint hum of disagreement.

Content in general? Yes. Content with another early bedtime? Not so much.

"Oh, hush now," he chided sweetly, "No need to pretend you aren't utterly worn out. The signs are all there. You've had another vigorous day of recovery. It's no wonder you're looking a bit droopy-eyed now."

Droopy-eyed?

You frowned lightly, not entirely pleased with the accurate assessment.

But it didn't matter. Aziraphale was already in full-on bedtime mode.

"Rest is just as important tonight as it was yesterday, if not more so," he continued, "And will continue to be just as important tomorrow. So I shan't hear any more complaints."

"Well if that's the case, I'm out of here," Crowley announced suddenly, standing up, stretching and rolling his shoulders. "You two enjoy this little routine you've got going on. I'll see you tomorrow."

Aziraphale gave a knowing hum as he tucked you in more officially. "Oh, I'm sure you will," he mused, casting Crowley a pointedly innocent look over his shoulder. "At this rate, I daresay it would be more surprising if we didn't see you tomorrow~"

The demon's eyes narrowed under this glasses, or at least, that's what you assumed must have happned as he stopped in the doorway to look back at Aziraphale after that comment.

To his credit, though, he seemed to know that acknowledging it beyond that would be backing himself into a corner. So instead he looked to you, giving you a lazy salute as he strolled out the door. "Try to make it to morning, yeah?"

With a surprisingly bright smile, and as much energy as you could muster, you saluted him back. Will do, boss.

Aziraphale huffed as he left, turning his attention back to you.

You gave him your most innocent look as you peered over the blankets, but he was having none of it.

"Come now," he coaxed gently, stepping closer to the bed. "I know you’re not entirely opposed to the idea. Whether you realize it or not, your body has worked quite hard today, battling that fever of yours. Let's do it a favor and give it the rest it needs to keep up the good work tomorrow, hmm?"

Truth be told you'd only been resisting the idea out of principle alone, but he made quite the compelling argument. So after squinting in thought for a moment, you gave a soft smile and a little nod.

Satisfied, Aziraphale dimmed the lights and turned toward the television, moving to switch it off. But before he could, you let out a small, involuntary sound of protest.

It wasn't dramatic, barely more than a little breathy hum, but it was enough to make him pause, glancing back at you with mild curiosity.

You blinked up at him, eyes a bit wide, before lifting a hand from beneath the blankets and giving the screen a small point.

"Oh?" he hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Would you prefer to keep it on, my dear?"

You nodded quickly, lips pressing into a small, pleading frown.

Aziraphale exhaled slowly, his head tilting in that indulgent way of his, as if mulling it over. He should turn it off, really. You needed proper rest, and distractions weren't always conducive to that. But at the same time...

He glanced at you again.

You were already tucked in so snugly, barely peeking out over the top of the covers, eyes half-lidded but still content and hopeful in that way that made it far too difficult to say no.

"Very well," he conceded at last. "But only under the condition that you don't let it keep you up too long.

You nodded again eagerly, making a little crossing motion over your chest. Promise.

That seemed to convince him, and he adjusted the volume down to a soft, barely there hum before setting the remote within easy reach on your nightstand. "There. Now, you just rest. And, if you need anything, just ring, alright?" His eyes flickered briefly toward the little bell on the nightstand before returning to yours. "Though preferably not just for the sake of testing my response time."

The little giggle you let out seemed to have been exactly what he was aiming for because his expression softend with satisfaction as he finally stepped back, wishing you a quiet goodnight and leaving you be with a soft click of the door.

After that, the room fell into an easy stillness, save for the quiet murmur of the television. It was just enough noise to keep the space from feeling too empty, but soft enough to lull you into the heavy warmth of impending sleep.

You probably would have crashed pretty fast if the day hadn't left you feeling so utterly aware of everything around you right now.

Of the way your head throbbed against the pillow. Of the way your body ached with that deep, feverish exhaustion. Of the way the congestion pressed thick and heavy in your chest, making each inhale just a little too labored. You thought for a moment and then swallowed experimentally. Nope. That was still awful too.

But you weren't going to dwell on it.

Because if you let yourself focus too much on the bad, you'd start thinking about how good everything else was in comparison. About how thoroughly the good of the last two days had outweighed your discomfort in heaps.

And then you'd begin to think about how, if you weren’t sick right now, if you weren’t confined to this bed with a fever that had left you fatigued to you very core, then today, and yesterday, and the night before, would have looked a whole lot different.

You would have woken up in your hotel room. Would have gone about your day alone, trying as many restaurants as you could find or jumping from shop to shop.

You would have kept wandering around the city, with no real plan, sightseeing in a forcefully casual attempt to not impose on the two main reasons you'd even bothered coming back to London in the first place

And that would have been fine.

But it wouldn’t have been this.

~

[zabimarushoney67]

You may simply consider this a gush/confess if you wish.

There's something romantic to me in the complete trust involved in domination. Another person allowing themselves to become vulnerable and pliable for me.

I think its something Jushiro would enjoy. The trust involved I mean. Even in a non-sexual context. Just the intimate control involved in massaging someone (massage scenarios 👌👌👌).

Anyways, ramble done

-@dragon-anon

So anyway here you go! After a few months, I finally decided to come up with the massage scenarios/one shots for our beloved bleach captains! Our white haired angel Jūshirō being the first star of the show of course 🥰 Thanks a million for being so active here I appreciate it so much 😭🙏🏼, I hope you enjoy!👋🏽😋

🌸The Art of Touching You🌸

SS👀FLUFF💟MDI⚠️

-My take on massage one shot, story scenario thingies idk what you call them (from two different perspectives giving one, and receiving one) from 3 of our beloved bleach captains! Giving referring to reader x character and Receiving referring to character x reader

Lineup: Jūshirō Ukitake, Shunsui Kyoraku, Byakua Kuchiki

Warnings: Some groping but we’re massaging so it’s kind of an occupational hazard, medium language, roaming hands, tongue kisses, moaning from pain relief(?), brat tamer byakuya! !Minors do not interact! Mostly sfw 😜

🌸Jūshirō Ukitake🌸

💠Giving: Jūshirō places the last box, scribbled in big black sharpie, “Living Room”, down on the fluffy carpet. Dusting his hands in a clapping motion, he sighs happily staring at the stacked boxes that laid waist to the living room. Some opened and some still securely taped from the move. Taking a lone lamp from the craziness, he places it next to the sofa and turns it on before shuffling to meet you in the kitchen for dinner ideas.

Opened Chinese containers, used chopsticks, and fortune cookie wrappers decorated the rough set up area you and Jūshirō called in for the night. “You’re so tense tonight Shiro,” you speak to him in gentle consideration, knowing just how hard he’s worked today to make this move happen.

Your thumbs press into a tough knot that had formed over Jūshirō’s left shoulder, “thank your for bringing all the boxes in today, my love.” You hum gently in praise for his good work. Jūshirō sits shirtless between your legs on the floor, his hair pulled into a messy man-bun as you took place on the sofa behind him.

A stupid reality TV show played as subtle background noise, your TV sitting upon the still-packed away TV stand. A disgruntled groan left Jūshirō’s lips now and then as you pushed on his tender muscles. “Not so rough now, babe.” He hisses through his teeth and forces his bottom lip in a soft pout. The pad of your thumb swipes in large circles over the knot repetitively. “I’m sorry Shiro, I just don’t want this thing getting any worse.” You swoon apologetically at him slowly working your hands up to the back of his neck.

You had figured to give the knot some rest before you accidentally bruise him there. Jūshirō hums contently at the feeling of your gentle hands squeezing the muscles where his neck meets his back, rubbing more gentle circles between his shoulder blades. You catch yourself smiling fondly when you see Jūshirō hang his head under your fingertips. Jūshirō closed his eyes, fighting off the sleep that hung over him with each rotation.

Massage work quickly became mindless with the passing time. Cackling loudly at the TV, you followed along with the episode. This show was straight ridiculous, with it’s over dramatized couples fighting for pathetic reasons. It gave you something to focus on as your hands gripped and groped your boyfriends strong arms —the same ones you couldn’t wait to be held in later. Jūshirō sat quietly with his arms hanging over your knees, holding onto your shins with his large hands.

Gentle moans leave his mouth as you hit a tense spot under his bicep. His soft noises turn your attention there forcing your movements into soft kneads, running the muscle up and down under your palm.

Jūshirō’s lanky body melted like putty as you molded and reworked all the spots once more. Rolling his head into your lap his eyes landed in yours. “I love it when you touch me,” his voice sounding soft and faint. He’s so pretty, you thought as your heart fluttered from the look on his sleepy face, it bloomed a blushing smile on your own. “Well, I love touching you,” you cooed sweetly at him, placing your hands on his face you leaned in to place a kiss on his soft lips.

Move in day had been a success, now your life together can truly start. Forever is out there somewhere but it started here, in this peaceful serenity first.

——————————————————————————

💠Receiving: These late hours were surely going to be the death of you at some point, you thought rolling your neck around. Stretching your arms in front of you and locking your fingers together, you swivel around in your desk chair. “Time to finally leave,” you sang happily grabbing your purse and keys from besides your desk drawer.

The office was in desperate need of overtime workers, and making a little more cash sounded pretty good to you when the email was sent out. It originally was only planned over the holidays but it bled further into the advancing Spring Semester Quota. The money was good, but it was leaving your relationship stagnant and tense, and you solemnly missed your husband, his gentle embrace, his dazzling smile.

Spending more time at the office and less of it at home made for missing a lot of things. Birthdays, get-togethers, holidays, and dates all becoming stressors and ‘extras’, then being genuine memories you create with the ones you’re supposed to love.

Opening your door and stepping through the threshold, the entryway desk digital clock flashes 11:02 pm on its black LED surface. You quietly pushed the door shut behind you and took a deep breath of your home's comfortable air. The house was dim and quiet, Jūshirō was probably sleeping you thought sadly, but he had been nice enough to leave some lights on for you.

Hanging your purse on the wall rack you kicked your heels off on the rubber mat meant for household shoes. They perched against Jūshirō’s work shoes that lay so nicely side by side and up against the wall. You smile softly thinking of the beautiful life you’ve managed to create with the man you love.

“Are you just getting home?” Jūshirō’s smooth, quiet voice jolts you from your reminiscent thoughts and thwarted you back into reality. “I thought you’d be in bed by now,” you say in surprise to his sudden appearance on the stairway. “Couldn’t sleep,” he sighed leaning an elbow on the column to the railing. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you spoke, sounding rigid —this wasn’t like either of you but going weeks, months, probably, without one another has deeply rooted this uncomfortable tension. For you anyway.

You nervously bit your bottom lip and looked down at your toes as they wiggled on the cool, dark wood floor. “How was your day,” Jūshirō pushes, noticing the slight discomfort you presented in his presence. “Long. Exhausting, you know. The usual.” You sighed out, chuckling to yourself by your nervous reaction to your husband. It didn’t feel as if you had been married to him for 10 years, but you certainly had. Getting married in your early twenties, and starting adulthood early got you here, in your own beautiful home with Jūshirō.

Taking a the last step down to your level, Jūshirō prowls behind you like a tiger, eying you up and down in your sleek pencil skirt and frilly white blouse, admiring how fitted it was around your waist. “What are you doing?” You ask stilling in your spot as he stood at your back. “What I can’t hug my wife?” “Maybe, give her a much needed massage after a long day?” Jūshirō chides you jokingly.

He laughs heartily, draping his arms around you from behind, swaddling you up against his solid chest, trapping you there. “I just-,” you stop, feeling an ache in your chest. “You work a lot.” Jūshirō began, “but, that will never change how much I love you.” His patience and fiery warmth, left you with fuzzy feelings and a deep blush covering your face. Tears collected at your corners, threatening to fall down your cheeks as you had assumed Jūshirō was fed up with your schedule.

He gently released you with a kiss on your temple. His big hands landed on your slouching shoulders. With steady and continuous pressure, he squeezed and unsqueezed your exhausted body. Pressing and ringing out your built up, untamed stress. For weeks, it had felt like the world was taking residence upon your back. Getting heavier with each passing week of long days, and 35+ hours of overtime. Jūshirō provided you with the care you desired at the exact moment you truly needed it.

Jūshirō pressed both thumbs in between your shoulder blades and rubbed in deep circles there. He could feel your upper back crack under his thumb pads. You groaned deeply with his generously applied pressure in the sorest part of your body. Your slouching habit had developed and matured to an unhealthy amount of time spent that way. You swore to yourself to correct it eventually, and Jūshirō’s loving massage was helping wonders, you couldn’t possibly ruin it by slouching more tomorrow.

Moving his fingers up to your neck, Jūshirō pushes your head down to elongate your muscles and making his thumbs trek easier along them. Swiftly up and down, his long thumbs roamed, stretching out the taut skin. “Fuck..” you breathed through your nose, the pressure was hard to bare but so needed. You dared not to halt Jūshirō’s skilled fingers.

What had meant to be a quick, simple, and loving gesture turned into a long, deep tissue massage standing in your entryway. Jūshirō kept rubbing and squeezing because he noticed just how much you sank into his touch, relaxing as you stood under him. It was sweet, and the first time he’s got to see you so relieved in weeks. The comfortable silence, your soft breathing, and little groans flooded Jūshirō’s heart with such warming joy, he couldn’t resist the grin on his face.

All these years, good and bad, you have always been a hard worker and a dependable person to him. Even now, Jūshirō understood that everything you’ve done as of late, was for the sake of your peaceful life together. Even if you never noticed the hard work you put in, Jūshirō saw it and appreciated everything you had ever sacrificed for him and your happiness together.

Kissing the back of your head, Jūshirō pulls you back into his arms overflowing with adoration for you. “I love you my dear,” “thank you for everything that you do.” He speaks softly in your ears as the clock strikes midnight.

——————————————————————————

🌸Shunsui Kyoraku🌸

💠Giving: The radiant sun beat down on Shunsui’s tanned, muscled back. Laying underneath and soaking up the UV rays on a lounge chair, Shunsui’s long brown hair gently swayed in the salty wind as it was collected at his shoulders and upper back. This vacation was the best idea you had come up with by far.

Getting tired of the rural, in the mountains, Japanese getaways you two usually plan, this one was different. This one, landed you in the tropics of the islands. Palm trees, salty sea spray, hot golden sand, a cozy balcony, and an impeccable view of the vast blue ocean from the presidential suite, spoke of luxury and deep relaxation for you both.

A couple bottles of Tequila and Rum lay empty on the ground around Shunsui’s napping body. His beloved sake being scarce around the island, he’s had to settle for something more attuned to the culture around here. Finding out that he’s terribly addicted to piña-coladas was shocking, even for him. The fruity drink had quickly become his favorite choice anywhere you two had settled for drinks and food.

Opening the balcony door, you sway onto the warm cobbled stone of the beautifully decorated area. A colada and a chic glass filled with a sex on the beach in your hands. Gaudy pink sunglasses cover your eyes, protecting them from the sun. You place the drinks on the glass end table between the lounge chairs and slowly crank the umbrella over the sitting area. Your sheer white sun cover twirled in the breeze, slinking across your smooth skin and down your shoulders as you sat across your sleeping, incredibly handsome fiancé.

“I had some drinks ordered for us babe,” you said with a cute smile on your lips. Kicking your bare feet out and crossing them, you lay relaxed on your palms as they sink into the plush cushions. Shunsui’s smoky eyes peered open at you and a lazy smile grows across his face. “Mah, look at you,” “looking all delectable and delicious underneath the blue sky,” “my lady, is smokin’,” “and I’m one lucky man,” His deep voice purred as he pushed out his lips out against the soft cloth in admiration.

Pushing himself from his position he reaches for his colada and falls back in place on his belly. Missing the straw a few times before catching it with his lips, he finally pulls a first sip, humming happily as the pineapple and coconut flavors exploded in his parched maw. Bringing his golden aviator styled glasses down over his face, Shunsui sprawls back out on the chair, resting his head on crossed arms.

Seeing him so relaxed and carefree was rare, you gazed lovingly over his slumped body. Recently his job has become his entire world. Even at home, he spends long hours in his study, reviewing purchase orders, numbers, and stocks. So studying him now, soaking in all the fruits of his labor was satisfying for you, to say the least.

Sipping down your drink and setting the empty glass down on the table, had made room for some playful thoughts to cross your mind. Without thinking, your body crawled over his back. Spreading your knees you sat down on the back of his thighs and ran your fingers up his smooth, hot back. So warm, and such a pretty color- you thought as his burning skin moved under your fingers. A warm groan leaves Shunsui as he feels you spread your hands over his back, pushing up his spine and back down again.

“Where’s all this coming from, petal?” Shunsui hums, sorely hiding his appreciation for your efforts within his question. “I honest to God, couldn’t give you an exact answer, my love.” “I just felt like touching you, and,” “you work very hard.” “For me, for you, for our life together, and for your company.”

Your pure honesty made Shunsui’s heart swell up with emotion in his chest. He smiles fondly from your genuine words from where he lay under you. “Now look at us, living it up in the tropics,” you say the sound of your laugh getting lost in your words. “Think of it, as my token of appreciation for you, baby.” You coo. Your smile never leaving your lips, as you leaned down to place supple kisses on his shoulders.

“This was all your idea, my love.” “The best idea, might I add,” Shunsui teases playfully, grinning now after hearing your happily given praise. Your hands continue their exploration over the expanse of his back. Your eyes scanning all his delicious muscle lines, remembering each little freckle and sun spot that decorated his broad shoulders and upper back.

You knead his lower back and up his sides, quieting a moan that bubbles up as you felt his muscles flex under your hands. He’s so fucking yummy —your mind fills with all the times he’s flexed during sex, and how it drove you wild every time. This time was no different. Shunsui’s physique alone, was enough to make you drool like a puppy waiting for a treat.

You simply couldn’t help yourself as you laid down over his body and started smooching his skin. Your swimsuit covered breast pushed against his back as you arched into him. Softly licking and nibbling at him with your plush lips. “Mm fuck, petal.” “Keep doing that and you’re gonna have a hard problem in your hands” Shunsui drawls out, tugging on his lower lip between his perfect teeth. “I just can’t help myself Shun,” “I can stop, if you want me to.” You pout with a sly grin on your face. Knowing him, it would be the last thing he’d want. “No, no, no.” “Please, continue.” He spit out quickly, making you giggle as you already knew.

Your playful teasing, flirtatious giggles, and roaming hands turned into heavy panting and shrill screams as Shunsui soared you to brand new heights, right there on that lounge chair. The evening panned perfectly, ending the day with shaking legs, soft kisses, and some damn good sleep in the cali king bed. Prepping you two for another day full of adventure as you sank deeper into your week long vacation, with the love of your life.

——————————————————————————

💠Receiving: The sound of water hissing as it’s tossed on hot stones sizzled through the air. The thick, humid heat of the sauna stuck to your skin as you slouched against the wood paneling. Shunsui ladles another hefty dose of water over the rocks, filling the room with more steam. His built body glistened, slick with sweat and his chest hair clinging against his pecs. Leaning back on the wood Shunsui places his arms on the ledge behind you, breathing in deeply as his sore muscles relaxed with the soothing heat.

You lean into his body, your towel straining to hold up against your cleavage. Shunsui’s eyes glance down at your body as you move into him, your skin effortlessly slides against his and it’s kind of a turn on — he wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself. A gentle smile spreads on his lips from your close contact and the delightful view of your towel squished bosom. “Well aren’t you just adorable,” Shunsui coos at you, blush covering his cheeks as he peered into your owlish blinking eyes.

“I figured you’d be to hot to cuddle in here,” he says affectionately, bringing and arm down and around your shoulder. “It is but, it’s a good kind of heat,” you admit smiling as he presses you against his bare chest. “This is really helping,” you say quietly, making Shunsui look curiously down at you. “Are you sore?” He inquires with a slight frown on his face. “Yeah, a little,” you sigh deeply through your nose, the hot air stinging your nostrils. “I’m so sorry,” “I tried to be gentle this time, I swear!” Shunsui pouts squeezing your shoulder under his palm. “Not from that you pervert!” You screech, playfully smacking his chest over and over.

“If not from that,” “then why are you sore, my love?” Shunsui grins, chuckling at your reaction and embarrassedly blushed face. “I did something to my shoulder,” “I don’t know what, maybe lifting something,” “but it hurts anytime I move it.” You explain, gently rotating your shoulder. You wince with a grimace as it came around full circle. “I see, do you want me to rub it,” “maybe the heat and my skilled hands can help relieve some of that tension,” Shunsui flirts, playfully pursing his lips at you. “I would actually really enjoy a massage right now,” “but don’t get any ideas Kyoraku!” You hiss, hoping your tone will sate that sexual demon that dwells in the pits of Shunsui’s mind.

“On my life,” “I just want to help you feel better,” Shunsui says placing a large palm over his heart. “Okay, I believe you,” you say with a shrug swiveling around to face away from the man. Lifting his heavy body, he flows with your movement as he placed his fingers in your towel, tugging it gently. Swatting his hand away you peek behind your shoulder, “you just said you’d help, what do you think you’re doing?” You glare at him, Shunsui lifts his hands quickly away from you as if you burned him. His pitiful face gleamed back at you, “Nothing! I’m trying to move the towel so I can get more room for my hands,” “honest.” He swore still not bringing his hands down.

“You could’ve just said that, I am so sorry,” you laugh out loud feeling stupidly relieved. “Anywhere else I wouldn’t be so on edge, but this is a public sauna,” “anyone could walk in at any time.” You rambled on apologetically to Shunsui as he lowered his hands to his lap. “It’s okay,” “I understand my love, no worries,” he grinned, his handsome smile beaming back at you. His calm demeanor allowed you some room to relax as you took your place facing away from him. Shunsui tries again this time with notification about the removal of your towel, making you snort with laughter.

Gently pulling your towel down you went to hold the front of it over your chest, modestly trying to cover your soft mounds from any random eyes that may intervene. Shunsui’s large palms run up your back, pushing inward against your spine. You couldn’t help the fit of giggles and a squeal that roused from your mouth, it tickled. “Shun baby, you need to do more pressure,” you said through your fits, arching your back away from his hands. “I’m ticklish! you know that,” you pouted, groaning as your tummy hurt from your laughter.

Shunsui sat behind you silently losing himself in his own laughter fits, his shoulders shook as he clasped a hand over his mouth . “I’m sorry petal, let me try again,” he says forcing his fits away. His sudden serious demeanor change wasn’t helping the situation, as you two fell right back into a spree of fits together. “Okay seriously, help me!” You whined out, still laughing at the current humorous situation.

“Yes of course dear,” Shunsui said with a wide smile still on his face. Moments like these were so precious to him. When you two were goofy together, everything in the world felt possible. Calming himself Shunsui raises his hands once more, this time settling for your shoulders first. His strong rough hands squeezed hard, forcing a groan to leave your throat. Gently pressing his thumbs in time with his squeezing hands felt like pure heaven, the steamy air relaxed your muscles making them more pliable under Shunsui’s duress.

Strongly gripping your shoulders, Shunsui moved them in gentle circles, reveling in the sound of your moans. Knowing he could make you moan without the sex was incredibly satisfying for him. Learning to please you in other ways was beneficial information. Especially, if you two decided to keep this friends-with-benefits thing going. Shunsui loved you, deeply, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it yet. Nervous that you would reject his offer and never speak to him again. That was his biggest fear, he simply couldn’t survive your rejection. One day though —he hoped and held faith that it would happen, that maybe you felt the same for him.

Running his grip down your arms and roaming them back up and over your shoulders had you in pure bliss. You swayed freely with his hands as they took care of you. “I’m gonna touch your back,” Shunsui warns as his fingers rest on your shoulders. “Thanks for the heads up, chief,” you acknowledge with a thumbs up, bracing yourself for his touch. Pressing his fingers in your shoulders, Shunsui drags them down to the tips of your shoulder blades. “You okay?” He hums before continuing, being very cautious now about your ticklish nature. “Yeah..” you respond weakly, feeling the excitement bubble and roll in your belly.

Laying his hands flat on your back, his thumbs swipe up and down the blade. Shunsui digs his thumbs and palms into your back and slowly moves them around. You could feel the excitement leaving as you surrendered your vulnerable back to his hands. The gentle rotation lulling the tensed muscle that was causing your shoulder pain. “You really are skilled with your hands,” you groan out feeling the pinched muscles release. “I’m happy to hear that from you y/n-chan,” Shunsui smiles gratefully, happy to make you feel good.

Not long after starting the rejuvenating massage, someone else crashed the party as they took place on the empty side of the sauna. Helping you tie your towel back in place, Shunsui apologetically shrugged at you. Shunsui was upset himself to, as he started to enjoy the feeling of your weight sinking into his hands. Figuring it was about time to head back to your room, Shunsui takes your hand and holds it the entire way back. Silently hoping you would let him continue his handiwork, and maybe a little more.

——————————————————————————

🌸Byakua Kuchiki🌸

💠Giving: The front door swung shut, closing gently with a click as it met the threshold. Byakuya takes a hefty swig of his water bottle before hanging his mesh gym bag on the coat rack. “How was your work out?” You ask from your pile of blankets and bowl of chips on the sofa. It was about 3pm in the afternoon, and you had decided today was the day you did absolutely nothing. It was your last day off out of the week, work and being productive were the last things on your mind.

Puffing on your peach mango vape, you mindlessly watched criminal history and murder mysteries on YouTube. “It was good,” Byakuya says as he strolled to you in the living room, where you sat perched in the corner of the sofa.

The lives you lived together were entirely different from one another. Byakuya was up early, 7am on the dot. Creating his to-do lists and making a healthy breakfast before he headed to work or the gym. While you on the other hand, woke up late often, worked, came home, barely ate unless reminded, smoked your weed, and played your video games when you had the free time. Separated, but perfect when meshed together.

Instead of sitting on the couch with you, Byakuya grabs one of the decorative, large sitting pillows and sits on the ground, in front of you. Laying his head back he can feel your shins crossed underneath his neck. “Is this all you’ve done today babe,” Byakuya teases you with a smile. “Yeah? What of it?” You furrow your brows, the sarcasm in your voice poorly hidden as you stared ahead at your video, hitting your vape again. “Just curious,” Byakuya chides, his smile widening as he lowered his head to what you were watching.

Grabbing the sides of his head you leaned down to him, “What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?” You joke as your smooch his head over and over. Byakuya blindly reaches around with his hands until he found your head, “Don’t test me little girl,” “you’ll be sorry,” he says playfully before leaning his head back once more. Your lips holding a crafty smile hovered above his, “Oh, is that what you think?” “You don’t scare me, you big teddy bear.” Your smile grows bigger as you ended the teasing match. Kissing him softly for tax, you lean back and break free from his clutches.

As Byakuya lowered his head he twists it with his fingers forcing a few loud cracks and pops, as his neck released. “Whew, that was a good one,” you acknowledged with a small golf clap. Chuckling at you he grips the back of his neck and rubs it softly. “My neck has been giving me hell the last few days,” Byakuya sighs as he heavily drops his hand into his lap. “Hey..” he paused hoping you were paying attention, “you wanna rub me down?” He asks. With a mouth full of chips and a wave of your hand you respond, “later, this video is finally getting good.” “I… I didn’t mean it like that,” Byakuya says a blush covering his cheekbones.

“A massage babe,” he says bringing his hands together in front of him. “But babe, it’s my last day off,” you whined with pouty lips, still dedicated to your long list of doing nothing today. “Please babe,” Byakuya says with his eyes clenched shut and a whine equally as loud as yours. “I’ll love you forever,” He says rolling his head into your lap, his hands still clasped together in prayer. You groan loudly with an eye-roll, “Okay fine, just stop your whining you big lug.” You say with slight irritation as you pause your video and resort to some music to fill the quiet instead.

“C’mon, Take off your shirt,” You shrug with a sigh, curling your fingers in an upward motion. “You don’t gotta sound so excited to see me shirtless, babe.” Byakuya says laughing as he hoists his soft grey shirt over his head. His long raven black hair fell down his shoulders, and over his chest as he crumpled his shirt and tossed it to the side.

“I’ve heard just about enough out of you,” you snark at him as you gather his hair and push it all to one shoulder. “Lean forward so I can see what I’m working with,” you say as your hands gently push on his shoulders. “Yes mamas,” “anything for you,” Byakuya schmoozes with pursed lips, feeling all to giddy about your hands touching him.

Leaning forward and settling there, you smack your hands harshly down on his shoulders, and lazily flail your hands across his upper back. “Hey, Hey!” Byakuya barks raising his arms to break up your goofy movements. “Behave,” he said with a grin laughing with you. Your giggle fit subsided into a smile as you start squeezing on his sculpted shoulders. You begin his massage by pressing your thumbs into his muscles, slowly scrunching your hands from the sides of his shoulders to his neck.

Byakuya sighs gently, hanging his head to give you more space for your fingers. Rowing your thumb pads under his neck, you start pushing your thumbs along the bone in an upward motion. “Shit…” Byakuya breathes his hair hiding his clenched jaw as you had already found the exact spot that was hurting him. “Right there babe,” he says as his head fell further. “Do you need more pressure?” “Or is this okay?” You ask him hoping you weren’t being to rough. “It’s perfect,” he hums a smile spreading across his face.

Soft music lulled over your nice sound system, as rain began to tap and drip down the living room windows. Byakuya rested his elbows on his knees as you continued your slow presses into his neck. “Fuck that feels good,” Byakuya groans, “thank you babe, seriously.” He continued, moaning as your thumbs find a good rhythm and pressure along his neckline.

“You owe me later,” “hope you’re aware of that,” you say with a few swipes of your thumbs. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you want.” Byakuya waves you off, enjoying his massage to his fullest capabilities. “Whatever I want, you say?” A big grin sprawls over your face as possibilities started swarming your head. “Oh boy.” Byakuya says almost regretfully, as he knew you would come up with the most obscene thing for him to do later.

After a moment of your silence, worry quickly exuded from Byakuya. “Okay out with it woman,” “What do you want in exchange?” He inquired carefully, bracing himself for something silly like a strip tease, or walking around the apartment bare-ass naked for the night. “Hmmm let me think about it,” you say softly, taking some consideration and deliberately thinking over your options. “I think I would like,” you drawl out with a hum. “I think I would like a bouquet of roses,” “a nice dinner on the boardwalk,” “and a pint of Ben n’ Jerry’s ice cream.” “Yeah that sounds nice,” you squint, nodding your head in approval.

A loud sigh of relief leaves Byakuya’s lips. “Oh thank god,” he says breathily, placing a palm over his chest. “I was preparing for something way worse,” he says chuckling, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he truly believed you’d make him embarrass himself. “What like a strip tease?” You ask curiously, “that was one of them yeah,” Byakuya’s laugh suddenly switching to nervousness.

“Fuck man! that would’ve been such a great idea,” you sway backwards with howling laughter, “can I change my idea?” You say with a wide grin and your hands clasped together. “Absolutely not!” Byakuya said shaking his head quickly and waving his finger in a ‘no’ fashion. “Oh c’mon, no fair!” You whine again, sorely wishing you had said the strip tease instead.

——————————————————————————

💠Receiving: Byakuya settled into the steaming bathtub, extending his hand towards you he helps you in. Taking his slender fingers in your own you gently step in, the water feeling hotter than usual.

“Something the matter?” Byakuya stated, peeking at you through his free falling bangs hanging out from his put up hair. “No, not at all,” you wave your free hand, trying not to provoke him in any way. “Why are you still standing then y/n?” “Get in.” His voice sounded demanding when he spoke, spooking you just a bit. “Yes sir, sorry sir.” You submit quickly biting your lip, hearing his voice like that always riled you up.

“You’re sure nothing is wrong?” Byakuya pressed, his gentler side coming out to play. “No sir, the water was just a little warm,” you say settling between his long, muscular legs. “I’ll be sure to mention that to them,” he said smoothly, his arms laying on the rim of the pristinely white tub. ‘Them’ referring to the house servant’s that were directly employed under Byakuya.

Being a big time CEO and multimillionaire came with its perks, and dating one was a new experience for you. You had never seen yourself in a big fancy, modern loft that overlooked the bustling city. Yet here you were, sipping on bubbly champagne in the same tub you and Byakua bathed together in during the week.

The steam filled bathroom smelled faintly of Byakuya’s expensive cologne, and plenty of jasmine and sage. That being the choice of bath oil he had picked for the night. Falling back gently you laid your naked body down on Byakuya’s solid chest. Your head swept to its natural position on his left shoulder.

His muscles felt good against your back, you hummed in contentment at the feel of him there. This being, the only real intimate time you got during Byakua’s busy schedule. It was always the thing you looked forward to since he always cleared that schedule, just for you.

Your arms snaked around your stomach as you got comfy on your boyfriends body, the hot water lapping just above your chest. Byakuya was silent, his eyes were hooded as he breathed your essence in. Your close proximity, and the view of your naked body underneath him made his palms itch to touch you.

Bringing a hand from the side of the tub, he gently touches your shoulder. Dragging his finger up your neck he watched as your head fell further, exposing the whole side of your neck. studying your beauty in all its glory. He swiped your loose hair behind your neck, watching as it made contact with the water, the strands soaking it up against his collarbones.

“How was your day, beautiful?” His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room. “It was okay.” You breathed out, playfully swishing the water with your fingers. Nothing of extreme importance had happened today, you thought. You just patiently waited all day for work to be over with, so you could be swindled up in your bath time with Bya.

“Just okay?” Byakuya asks curiously his lips curling up in a crafty smile. Still gently running his finger up and down your neck, he slowly moves his hands down in the water. “Yeah, I’ve actually been waiting for this all day,” you giggle from his light touches, goosebumps popping up on your skin that lay uncovered by the bath water. The sound of your laugh exploded in the room, as Byakuya’s sneaky free hand gripped your side under his fingers. His surprise attacks were always so cute, it was like he had a sonar for knowing the right exact time for any and everything.

Pushing you up with his body he runs his hand along your belly holding you steady against him. Your squeals and happy giggles made what was usually a cold heart, warm and full. He grinned against your soft skin, slowly smooching your exposed neck. “Oh, you’ve been waiting?” He growls against your neck, lightly biting your sensitive skin. “Ah! Yes sir!” You squeak out from the feeling of his canines digging into your neck.

“Me too, baby.” He agreed honestly and kissed the bite mark gently in truce. “I love bath time with you Bya,” you replied cutely placing your hands on his knees that sat above the water. “I love it too,” Byakuya replied softly as he held you gently from behind, his head being sported on your shoulder.

Kissing the space behind your ear, Byakuya scoots back just enough to put some space between his body and you. His hands sat at your waist, his thumbs resting against your lower back. Bath time usually consisted of you two chatting, drinking, relaxing, and massaging one another.

That’s why it was your favorite, all of Byakuya’s time, affection, attention, and hands were implied for your care and only that. Gently pressing into your back with his thumb pads, he rocked his thumbs back and forth working on your tense muscle there.

Byakuya never talked about your job or what you did for a living. He simply didn’t have the time, or the interest to delve into your personal life that way. He could take care of you for the rest of your life with the money he had, but you needed your independence — which he throughly understood. But your body was always so tense and stressed. It would be wrong for him, not to be concerned about what the hell you were doing at work all day.

It truly didn’t matter what you did, where you went, who you were with. As long as you always returned to him that’s all he needed from you. So that he could care for you and make sure somebody does something about your stressed body, because you surely didn’t —brat. Byakuya smirks as his mind ran with thoughts of you.

With open hands he runs his pressed thumbs up to your middle spine, holding onto your sides gently. His fingertips skimmed the sides of your breast forcing a breathy moan to leave your parted lips.

Byakuya watched intently as he worked your muscles under his thumbs. His eyes devoured your smooth skin and the way it glistened under the warm light, little water droplets decorating the expanse of your shoulder blades. The fragrant, expensive bath oil did wonders with your tired skin while also making it easier for Byakuya’s fingers and thumbs to work it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he purred in adoration, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, as always sir.” You say quietly, your body relaxing deeply from his pressurized movements. Straightening out your back, Byakuyas skilled hands move to your neck.

Gently placing his hands at the apex, his fingers wrap softly around your throat. Teasingly squeezing you there, Byakuya audibly groaned when the sound of your dramatic, over-the-top moan filled his ears. He cursed you for sounding so sexy and for testing him every single fucking day.

Stirring under the water he forcibly calms his mind. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t about to give into the temptation of taking you right here, in the bath tub. He pushed his filthy thoughts to the side and got back to molding his hands all over your neck and shoulders. The feeling of his gentle hands and even gentler squeezes, you found yourself yawning at the relaxation that slowly took over your body.

Byakuya noticed how slumped your shoulders had become since he started rubbing them, he smiled softly to himself knowing you could feel safe with him. “What do ya say…” “We move this party to the bedroom?” Byakuya spoke to you softly giving you the option to choose. “Am I getting a full body massage tonight?” You inquired, raising your eyebrow and pursing your lips at the idea. “If that’s what you want,” Byakuya replied with a nonchalant shrugging motion.

“Yes!” You say in selfish victory, it wasn’t often for him to give you exactly what you wanted when money wasn’t involved. So any opportunity you had to exploit free time with Bya, you ran with it. Byakuya also had to be in the mood to do something before doing it, especially when it came to his precious free time from the company he ran. ~And he calls me the brat.~

Stepping from the tub, Byakuya pulls you up and hands you a towel. Just as you finished drying you suddenly feel your feet leaving the ground. A scream leaves you as your thrown over Byakuya’s strong shoulder. Giving your bare ass a harsh smack, he carries you into the bedroom against your will.

“If I’m spending the time, I’m gonna do what I want.” He fronts to you as you whine loudly, screeching for him to put you down as your flail your legs. “Bya put me down! You fucker!” You yell, smacking and gripping the skin of his back under your palms. “Fighting me isn’t going to get you anywhere,” he snarks as he tosses you onto his huge bed.

Smiling wolfishly down at your surprised face, Byakuya placed his hands on your knees and climbed in front of you. Leaning over you, his long fingers cup your chin and force your stare to his. Kissing you deeply, he slides his tongue into your mouth to toy with yours. A sigh leaves his nose as you willingly accepted his mouth, your hands coming up to rest on his face. Placing his weight on a palm next to your head, his fingers slide up to the side of your cheek as he continued with his fervent kisses.

Pulling away from you, he lays his forehead on yours feeling himself stiffen with your soft rousing moans. “I promised you a full body massage right?” He asked hoping you would just let him continue with his needs for you. “You absolutely did sir!” “And acting all sexy won’t get you out of it,” you smile devilishly like the brat you are right to his face.

Putting a finger on his chin you push him away softly, and reluctantly Byakuya falls away sitting back on his heels. “Alright,” he huffs. Regaining his composure and straightening his posture, his brown eyes look down at your splayed out body before him. With a giddy shake of your hips you peer up at him, your hand covering your shit-eating grin. “Turn over.” He demands that cold, forceful voice returning as it seeped down into your eardrums. He’s so serious right now, better be nice — you admonished yourself with a sly smile on your face, putting your brat tendencies on hold, for now.

——————————————————————————

-WOO! That’s some content right there! If you enjoyed likes, reblogs, comments, and follows are appreciated and help my page grow! Let me write more content! Thank you for tuning in and reading!

-Writing this was so fun! I kinda want to do a another captains one and maybe some Lieutenants! Lmk what you think 🤔

🌸FOLLOW ME YA FUCKIN IDIOTS I LOVE YOU🌸

@dragon-anon

[sunnytheopossum]

THE LAST HALF BODY IS DONE! MY PART IS COMPLETE!!

I’m genuinely super proud of myself for this, guys! I’ve always been too nervous to participate in MAPs before now, but after forcing myself to apply and actually work on something like this for real, I’m really happy with the result, and I’m just glad that I was able to build up the confidence to try in the first place.

I’m gonna post Alex’s halfbody frame here by itself just for the sake of consistency with the other halfbodies I’ve posted, but in just a minute I’ll post my completed MAP part as well ^^

For this halfbody, I was originally going to surround him with trees like everyone else, but I ultimately decided to place him in the Rosswood Tunnel instead, mostly just because I think it’s a cool visual, but also because I think it’s a very “Alex” location. For the rest of his background elements, I gave him his gun, punched him in the face a whole lot and dragged him through the mud (bc he deserves it), splat some of Tunnel Guy’s blood on his shirt, and surrounded him with some of his own scribblings for that good good ✨visual intrigue✨. Also!!! His weirdo Jesus crown of thorns bleeding from the head thing from Entry #14! I had to include that, it’s my favorite Alexism.

[cinderbuck]

Death Save Bargain Bin, Page 10

Hm, not a very inspired layout, but passable, I think. The original rough layout was really boring, so I tried changing it up. Thinking back, it was probably a bad idea to draw out all the rough rough layouts in one day. They got more and more uninspired the further into the pages I got.

My initial plan was to just have the imp, who goes by the name Trish, terrorizing Galdrus (the dwarf), but I couldn't resist adding more of Greetings (the Cambion).

Trish, short for Trishul, which I believe is another word for trident, was a traveling companion for my character in one of the previous adventures my D&D group played.

Long rant ahead about our old D&D adventure, feel free to skip this:

It was Out Of The Abyss, and my character died in the very first session because the merciless adventure stated that the last person down the rope gets a slime (black ooze or something, I don't remember, it's been years) falling on their head, and dies. Can't make death saves or anything, just melts, dead forever, RIP. (If anyone plans on playing this adventure, I highly recommend not following the book too much. Use it more as a guideline than an actual instruction manual. It's infuriating at times.) It was a bit of a bummer, I had plans for my wizard-Gnome.

Had to make a new character, and in this campaign we all decided to roll our base stats on a D20. I didn't really have time to plan my next character, as we were currently playing, and my rolls were mediocre, so I made Penjamin the Average Man, not thinking he'd survive very long.

Just for fun, while I waited for the DM to find a good place for me to reenter the adventure, used the Origins table in Xanathar's Guide to Everything to flesh out his background some more. One of the tables is 1D100 for where your character is born, where it's pretty much a 50/50 chance you roll "home" (results 1-50). I, however, managed to roll 100, "On an Outer Plane of your choice". I wasn't, and still isn't really, that familiar with the Outer Planes, other than the Nine Hells, and the Abyss, so I chose Hell, and built my character's personality around that. His backstory pretty much ended up being that his mother was a Cambion, but his dad was a human so average that their union didn't spawn a tiefling as they normally would, but just a normal human baby. (I accidentally gave him a huge fro though, because at that time we used character sheets printed on paper, and I had a scribble of Pen on there that I just doodled more and more curls on whenever someone had to look up rules and such. It got huge. DM made it cannon.)

I don't remember why, but for some reason, way out in the adventure (somewhat close to the end, I think) I wanted an imp friend that looked like a cat, not a familiar or anything, just a pet of sorts. The DM granted me one, and along the way Pen and Trish might've made a cult. Some human/dwarven sacrifices were made. Some deals were struck, and by the end of the adventure Pen was a Cambion, and had a large following of mostly dwarves that he took home with him.

(I'm not sure what the rules are with gore here, so I blurred the drawings a little. This is a very old drawing of Pen and Trish.)

This might make it sound like I stole the show, but I didn't. Two others also started cults, and the adventure ended with two of us walking away with pretty much an army of cultists each, and the third one went to reassemble his following. (One of these also married the Demon Lord Graz'zt, I think, or at least ended up in a relationship of sorts with him.

Pen is still my favorite character.

Anyways, back to this comic. Trish, old character, redesigned her slightly for this comic, as I couldn't quite remember what she looked like before I managed to dig up an old drawing. Here's the doll I drew before starting the comic to get the palette nice and look alright in grayscale.

Previous Page, Page 09:

Next Page, Page 11:

[alexiswriting25]

Writing 1/25

I've written my first text of this "challenge" (if you will). Can I get a waa-hoo?

Let me give you a run down. Basically, while I was watching a fantasy show in autumn, I was intrigued by the relationship of two of the characters as they were sort of rivals but not in the sense of enemies, since they were both on the same side, politically, and had mostly the same kinds of allies. But, they always tried to one up one another in how loyal they were to court and king, which made their relationship quite humorous.

Yet, not before too long, one of the characters died in battle, which means that there was never any deeper exploration of the dynamic between the two of them, which in turn made me scribble down the idea of "oh, I could write about two character archetypes like this once" and then gave it no more thought until recently.

I thought about them quite a lot though lately and so an idea began to form in my head. First, I wanted to detach my writing from the canon and the original characters to not write a fanfiction, but coming to think of it, I realised that I actually quite adored the characters as they were and didn't quite want to let go of them yet.

So my first chapter then, the bit that I actually wrote and that I'm calling my 1 out of 25 is a first chapter of this fanfiction stort story, set in an alternative universe where a different kind of war occured that both of them however survived.

Now, eight years later, their lives look quite different, mundane almost since they are not exposed to the extremities of war anymore. And yet, they are still dealing with the aftermath of having to reunite a split society, with new rules that prohibit things that had been no problem during war time and a secret yearning for the other that both of them harbour but cannot show.

The first chapter serves as an introduction to both the universe, the political situation and the main characters. It provides the reader with some background on the war and how things are different, but still quite complicated right now.

It's definitely not finished-finished yet, but I've written something that seems complete-ish to me and that I will hopefully further edit at some point. And who knows, maybe I'll stay inspired enough to write chapter two - I've already written a little outline of what should happen in all subsequent chapters to get the complete arc of the story right anyway.

Lots of love xx

[sleebyplampts]

reading time

[smarchit]

Ghost Writer, chapter 2

It seems the still unseen recipient of your letters has gotten bolder. He's taken to leaving you letters of his own at crime scenes. Good thing your new friend Edward is there to help you decode them.

A few days after you wrote your commissioned piece to the Riddler, Gordon was waiting for you in your office when you arrived. 

"Long day?" he asked when you threw yourself into your chair.

You glared at him and stifled a massive yawn. It was his fault, really. Gordon had you writing several new letters daily to the Riddler in the paper and it was beginning to take a toll on you. Even with daily help from Edward, the sweet, if not a little awkward, man you had met at the corner diner, you were still exhausted. The stress from constantly looking over your shoulder was wearing you down.

"I think we need another one," he said. He leaned across the desk and handed you a new cipher. "A new message to the Riddler. A response to a letter. This was found at the crime scene we were called to last night. It's for you."

Your heart dropped to your toes. He wrote you a letter? That didn't bode well for you.

Gordon must've sensed your unease because he held up a reassuring hand to quell your negative thoughts. He leaned back and gestured for you to open the red envelope.

Your name was scribbled across the front in jagged, uneven handwriting. A little heart was drawn under your name. The message couldn't have been more clear.

With shaking hands you peeled off the sticker that held the envelope closed. The card slid out easily into your hand and you discarded the empty envelope into the wastebasket beside your desk.

The card was small and heart shaped, with two cherubic figures painted on the front. Based on the style and the feel of the paper in your hands, you pegged the card at being at least sixty years old. A cute, yet terrified couple stared up at you from the card's front, their arms locked around each other. A ghost in a white sheet lurked in the background, waiting to spook the couple. "Just ghost to show you, you're the one for me," the text read. 

You opened the card and saw what was written in that same shaky handwriting. Your hands shook slightly as you dropped the card onto your desk as if it burned your fingertips.

"What is it?" Gordon asked. He looked at your card for a moment before he sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his chin, deep in thought.

"It's a message for me," you whispered. "It's a cipher."

The other side of the card was covered in that same frantic cipher, scribbled across the paper in the same, uneven hand. It wasn't a code you recognized, and definitely not one that Gordon had given you from previous crime scenes. 

"Jesus," you whispered. "I'll... I need to work on this one.  I need a break. This is--- it's too much. I'll have your next set of letters tomorrow, okay?"

You quickly gathered your things and nearly ran out of your office, not caring that you left the Lieutenant in your office. 

The sun was just beginning to set as you ran towards the diner. You needed Edward's help on the cipher the Riddler had sent you. He was the only person you knew that would be able to help you solve this code.

The diner was mostly empty when you burst in. The few customers inside shot daggers at you for disturbing their dinner, but only one gave you a small smile.

"Edward," you gasped. "I need you!"

Edward's round face turned a deep shade of crimson at your words and he started to stammer out an awkward response before you waved your hand in his face.

"I need your help!" you said. "Please."

Edward nodded and slid his plate back a little. "Y-yeah. Uh, is it another code?"

You nodded and thrust the card into his hands and took a seat at the counter beside him. 

Edward smiled a little as his eyes flicked across the cryptic message that the Riddler had left you. He gleefully took a pen out of his coat pocket and tore a napkin from the dispenser in front of him.

He quickly showed you the key to the code, penned beneath the signature on the card. Yours forever, the Riddler. 

"So what you have is just a partial key," he said softly. "Some letters repeat in the code, so if you write out what you have, you can figure it out from there. Look, here's the one for "yours," it repeats four times."

After about ten minutes of your own careful assistance and with Edward's gentle encouragement, the finished cipher sat before you on the paper napkin, penned in your neat hand.

Edward read the riddle to you, his quiet voice easily delivering the Riddler's puzzle.

"If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you no longer have me," he said softly. His eyes flicked up to scan your face as you pondered what it meant.

"Trust?" you wondered aloud.

Edward's head tilted almost imperceptibly to the left. Green eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he considered your answer.

After a moment, you gasped. One hand flew to your mouth. "It's a secret! The answer is a secret! Once you have one, you want to tell someone, but then it's no longer a secret!"

Edward beamed. He looked almost proud that you answered it so quickly. "I'm glad I could help you. But why would this Riddler guy think you have a secret?"

You thought for a moment and then shook your head. The only secret you had was... oh, Christ. The only secret you had was Edward's help with the codes and letters. 

"I don't know," you said softly. Your heart thumped in your chest. How could he possibly have known? Was he watching you? Could he see you even now?

A tense, uneasy silence lingered between you and Edward. You looked over his shoulder at the diner's occupants. Two old men were seated in the corner booth, and a sleepy student with pink hair and an art portfolio was sprawled out in the wide booth on the other corner. They were the only other patrons besides you and Edward.

You jumped out of your seat when your cell rang. You answered it quickly and Edward patiently waited for you to finish your call.

"It's Gordon," came the greeting. "Did you figure out the message yet?"

You glanced at Edward and then nodded. "Yes, yeah."

"Good," he replied. "We need a letter for tomorrow. I'd say just use one you have ready, but I think it needs to be a direct response to his message. We're getting a response from him."

"He replied already?" 

"Not exactly," Gordon said. You could hear chatter in the background, and what sounded like a camera shutter. "Your article was shoved in the mouth of his latest victim. Hundreds of copies were scattered around him like confetti. He's noticed what you're doing."

"Jesus. Is there another letter?"

"Not this time," he said. It sounded like he hesitated before he continued. "He just circled your picture from the article and wrote "niña bonita" under it before he stuffed it into our victim's mouth."

You put your hand over your mouth in shock. This was getting out of hand.

"Please," he said, "We need that letter. I'll be by your office tomorrow afternoon to pick it up."

You hung up the call before he could say anything else. Pretty girl. He called you a pretty girl. Your stomach churned and you tried to calm your racing heart.

"Is everything okay?" Edward asked. He put one cool hand on your arm and you nearly jumped out of your skin. 

You'd forgotten he was there, honestly.

"Fine," you said quickly. "I'm fine. I, uh, yeah. I'm fine. I need to write another letter. A new one. A response to something the Riddler did."

"Oh," Edward said. He looked down at his half eaten slice of pie and pushed it away quickly. "Let's get started then!"

"No!" you said, perhaps a bit too loudly. "Not here. This is probably something we should do in private. I don't think the public knows what happened yet. I mean, I don't even know what happened yet!"

Edward nodded and nervously tapped his fingers on the counter. He glanced at you and then away when he made eye contact.

"My apartment isn't that far," you said after a moment. "Will you come with me? I mean, I-I really don't want to be alone right now."

His head snapped up when you asked him to come over. His eyes grew impossibly wider behind his glasses and he looked like he was about to faint.

"Y-yeah," he stammered. That same deep blush from earlier creeped up his neck, cheeks, and ears.

"You're the best," you said softly. You dropped a few dollars on the counter to pay for his food. "Do you mind if we stop at the liquor store on our way there? I need a fucking drink."

Edward smiled and zipped up his coat and followed you out the door. "Not at all. Lead the way."

[whenyoulosesmallmind]

browsing through his tag i realised there are a whole lot of tehanus i have never posted online - to be fair, they’re mostly sketches and unfinished works but hey!

1 & 2: the best drawing i ever did of Tehanu that i never spammed in this colored version - comes with a background and transparent, a real fancy boy! (flats by yours truly, @radicalhoodie added all the cool and best bits)

3: this is the second ever Tehanu i doodled, you can see he’s still in his initial form because he doesn’t have ears yet. one day i will show the fworld the first ever Tehanu i drew, but i want to do a redraw first 

4: an aborted attempt at drawing him as a tarot arcana - The Devil

5: to be honest i don’t remember what this one was for; i still have the selfies i took to reference in my camera roll, but i still ended up making his hand too big. maybe i just wanted to draw him biting his fingers, deep in thought. featuring an impromptu playlist scribbled on the lower right side

6 & 7: another thinking piece! sketch on paper and digital outline; if you look a little bit closer you can notice the point where i gave up on coloring

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

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

Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

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

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

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

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

[kojinnie]

With The Exception of You

I dislike everyone in the room.

Pairing/Character: Reiner x Reader (she/her), Porco Galliard

Tags: SFW, fluff, college!au, Reiner Braun is a jock who is tired of his own friends, secret relationship

WC: 3.2K

Summary: Reiner had agreed to be in a discreet relationship with you, but after six months and with the arrival of Porco Galliard around you, he couldn’t help but to mark his territory.

Reiner couldn’t seem to fathom the butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach. It came out of nowhere, as it often happened to be. Once in a while, he could feel his guts twisting as his chest filled with overflown emotions at odd times. Reiner hated it when it happened, because as much as he wanted to convince himself that he wasn’t self-aware of his image, those feelings could potentially strip himself off of his cool guy status.

Reiner had come to realize that such strange feeling often occurred caused by the sight of you.

It could be anything. Things so mundane, so simple. Like the way you twisted the pen in your fingers, the way you squinted your eyes at the blackboard during a lecture, and how you hastily scribbled things on your leather-bound notebook.

Or maybe it’s the way you sighed deliberately loud when someone uttered a dumb, sexist remark in class with no trace of shame, after they tried to debate your sound, well-researched opinion, and how you’d resolved it with a sarcasm that could disintegrate a man’s ego. Reiner sat on the corner of the classroom, disguising his chuckle by clearing his throat, finally coming to experience what they had called butterflies-in-your-stomach all along. 

At that point he had found himself painfully and helplessly in love with you.

He was well-aware of how different the two of you were. Reiner was the athlete, admitted to the uni through football scholarship, and you were the hard-working academician that mostly kept to yourself – hard to approach, hard to tame. Reiner hated how stereotypical he was – tall, buff, blonde, jock, with cheerleader exes and a DM full of thirst trap from his assembly of admirers. Reiner once wished he was anything but a cookie-cutter of everything you had been appalled of.

Reiner could feel every ounce of confidence he had ever had shriveled around your presence. It’s the way the two of you almost collided to each other at the campus hallway, and the way you threw an acknowledging, formal smile at him before striding away that made his heart ached. He wished you’d run to him and shriek his name with affection, but Reiner realized you were not one of his cheerleader exes, and not that he wanted you to be one. You were an anomaly he had yet to understand. A misplaced figure sticking out of his history of penchant for conformity.

“I really like you.” one day he finally said. Never had he been weak on the knees for a confession to any girl before, but this one occurrence? He did.

He didn’t know how he mustered the courage, but after hours, days and weeks he had spent trying to know you – learning your favorite song, accompanying you for book hunting, baking your favorite muffins, texting you good morning and good night – he finally got you alone, in the campus library, only five minutes before closing time.

You laughed at first, because the confession sounded ridiculous to you. The last thing you needed was a horde of girls sending you anonymous hate comments on Insta because you took the campus’ most eligible hunk off of the market. But he didn’t laugh along, and that was when realization hit you.

“So, is that why you’ve been following me around?”

Reiner furrowed his thin, almost non-existent brow, “What do you think?”

“I thought you were just bored with your jock friends,” you scoffed, “because you know, I’d be bored out of my ears too if all I ever heard all day is insecure men constantly praising themselves.” you glanced at Reiner, trying to discover even the slightest amusement on his hardened face to no avail.

“Reiner, are you serious?”

He sighed, couldn’t believe his ears. The first time ever Reiner caught you being stupid beyond recognition, “For the millionth times, yes.”

“You’ve only said it once, though.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the jock grunted, but there was a slight smile arose from his face, “I like you, really much. Times eight hundred ninety-eight thousand.”

“And?”

“So would you be my girlfriend?”

And you said yes, after three minutes of hesitation, you said yes. With a laughter. Because the absurdity of you being with someone like Reiner was lurid. Yet still, you were in no capacity to lie when his good morning text had been the most unsubstantiated text you looked forward to every day.

You wondered why? It’s just text. But maybe, you tried to convince yourself, it’s because of the effort he put, of trying to wake earlier before you every morning although he was hardly a morning person. Or it’s the way he listened to your kind of music although he was practically tone deaf, and returned to you the next week with his analysis on why your favorite band’s first album was their masterpiece and that sadly they never outdid it with any of their following albums.

And maybe, it’s the sight of the topless Reiner in the football field, after a home match. The way he was quick to run to the side of the field with his Captain instinct, lurching himself towards the start of a brawl between the two teams’ players, heated by animosity over the match result. Reiner was strong enough to break at least ten muscular jocks apart from throwing punches at each other, and with his deep, stern, authoritative voice, he commanded them to “Stop it. Fuck off.” You remembered immediately leaving the bleachers and found the nearest toilet because you needed to breathe and that you felt things simmering in your nether area. You never felt like that before to any of your exes.

Reiner knew the mutual pining between the two of you was evident, and so he was left puzzled when you said, “But please don’t tell anyone yet.” He asked why, but you only shrugged your shoulder with an answer that gave very little explanation, “I just don’t feel like having people talk about us.”

Reiner trusted you, because at first, he thought it was for modesty, you were not a fan of the limelight, evidently. Or it’s for practical reason, you don’t want to be burdened by society’s expectation on how two adults in relationship should be. Reiner could make 1,000 excuses for you that would justify your terms and conditions, so he went with what you wanted, because he was so hopelessly into you.

Nonetheless, still he enjoyed holding your hand in the dark alley of the campus – away from all the prying eyes, or the girls that’d giggle walking past the beautiful giant. Still he liked to have you sleeping naked in his embrace, making lazy circles with his calloused digits on your small back, at the emptiness of his dorm room when his roommate was home early for Christmas. Still he enjoyed teasing you at unassuming place, at the quiet library, studying together in silence for the upcoming exams, he’d be sitting next to you, leaning to his chair and slithered his right hand underneath your sweatshirt, to playfully and quickly unclasped your bra, only for you to smack his stomach in annoyance. He liked you, and he liked how you scurried to the restroom to fix your bra. He liked to be with you, no matter in silence or in noise.

However, after six months, questions started to throb incessantly inside Reiner’s mind. Even after all the time you had spent together, why must still he go alone to the football team soiree? Why would you let his team mate thought that Reiner was single, and promised him chances with girls, left and right? Why were you unfazed to see the girls sliding into his DMs? And when you put on that tight, backless black dress on New Year’s Eve, why would you put it for your friends’ party, and not for his eyes only? Why would you color your lips with the blood red Chanel lipstick Reiner gave you, and smile at other people that’s not him?

Reiner could not make sense of you. He pondered, he wondered and he became jealous. He’d look at you intently and see whether there was any trace of other man on you that he had not recognized? He’d become quiet and his friends thought he had gotten sensitive over nothing. The captain had become agitated, irritable and his head was hardly in the game – all with seemingly no reason.

Reiner began to think that he knew the reason why. He thought it’s the boy you’d met at the Academic Writing class, with stupid name and equally stupid undercut. Porco Galliard, you said his name was. In an instance his name had become a staple in your conversation. When Reiner asked you out for a dinner, it’d be like, “Ah sorry babe, I got this assignment with Porco.” A trip to the zoo? “You know, Porco have this funny experience with apes.” A night out in his dorm? By the point Reiner had a half-boner forming already seeing you in your lounge shorts, you’d be giggling and stayed busy with your phone. Reiner asked, “What’s so funny, babe?”

“What’s so funny, babe?” he asked again, because you didn’t seem to hear the first time he asked you. Distracted, you showed a stupid meme on your phone, “Porco sent me this.”

Porco here, Porco there. Reiner was sick of hearing that dumb name.

He had tried to look up for his background, and he hated to find that all that ever came up about him were amicable. His friends knew him, said he was chill, said he was smart as fuck, said he had a cool family, said he turned down a track and field scholarship for law school. Porco Galliard is a cool dude, they all said.

At certain point Reiner had grown to be furious, and the more your text messages became sparse or the more you spent your Saturday nights without him, the more he set his mind to do something about the two of you. He had become so sick of hiding and he wanted the whole world to know that you were his. Especially that guy with a name that sounded like her mother hated giving birth to him.

So came that day. You hadn’t been replying to his texts since morning, and only did so after chains of messages he left.

[you | 11.35] oh my god reiner!!! I’M SO SORRY, i left my phone uncharged all morning. i’m heading to cafeteria rn, it’s muffin tuesday 😵👅

[reiner | 06.37] good morning baby

[reiner | 07.49] you awake now?

[reiner | 08.15] sleepyhead 😪💤 see you today pretty

[reiner | 10.23] i got practice today until late. see you tonight? my room?

[reiner | 10.55] are you in class rn?

[reiner | 11.36] wanna go together?

[you | 11.45] haha noo a lot of people there

[reiner | 11.45] who r u going with?

[you | 11.55] with pockooo haha we got class together after lunch

Pocko. Is that an endearing term you came up with for the jizzhead? Reiner thought, pissed off beyond compare. He paced restlessly in his room, trying to figure out what did Porco have that he didn’t have? Thinking of how his undercut made his head looked way bigger for his neck, just like sperm; and it made Reiner mad angry. “Fuck you, Jizzhead”, he hissed, kicking the pile of dirty laundry on his dorm room.

The cafeteria was bustling busy when you arrived with Porco. The two of you immediately joined the line for lunch and the muffin. The man was busy babbling about yet another stupid thing that he had done back in high school, but your mind was darted on the muffins that were sold off fast. You looked around and almost everyone you disliked were present – mostly Reiner’s jock friends and their girlfriends. The prospect of one day going public with Reiner and having to spare days in your life to socialize with these loud people made you squirm. Not that you were completely against it, you were just… enormously reluctant to do so. Also, what would they say about you? You barely existed for them, evident by how they just greeted Porco with huge affection, yet pretended like you were invisible despite the fact that you were talking and standing close to him.

Your mind was elsewhere, between eyeing the muffin and managing your detest towards the it crowd, you weren’t even listening to the small talk that Porco was having with some of the jocks, until the mention of your name spilled out of Porco’s mouth, “Hey, have you guys known ___ before?”

You blinked with surprise, and they looked at you unenthusiastically, “Ummm, no?” one of them said.

Porco stared at them in disbelief, as if not knowing you was a big sin, “Get to know then! She’s cool, she’s really into—” but even before Porco could finish his words, they averted their attention elsewhere, pulling out their phone like it was the most important thing in the world, and talked amongst themselves. How fitting, because the first thing they talked about as an excuse for ignoring you was to talk about Reiner, “The captain’s been grumpy. Haha. That man. What’s up with him?” You cringed, because you knew there was no weight in talking about Reiner that must be done at that time, that moment. They just wanted a reason not to be roped into talking to you, obviously because you didn’t think you were cool enough or some other shit excuse only them and their bobbleheads understand. So, conveniently throwing out Reiner’s name was an effective way to basically say ‘haha look at us talking about the coolest guy in the campus so you know we’re in this cool clique unlike you’. You read them too well. You couldn’t even be amused anymore.

Porco looked embarrassed, he smiled at you awkwardly and stayed silent, until one of the girls threw their attention back to the man dirty blond undercut, “Anyway, Porco, do you know Reiner?”

“Ah, I haven’t had the chance to.”

The girl frowned rather dramatically, “Oh my god, we all should totally hang out together with Reiner, right? He’s like—super cool.” her question was obviously in exclusion of you. You rolled your eyes and turned away to see new text from Reiner appearing.

[reiner | 12.15] im going there

[you | 12.16] convenient. right in time. your cool friends are all here and you can sit with them and be cool with them or whatever I guess haha

You immediately pulled your phone to your chest; you could feel your heart thumping. Is this it? Is this it? The question became menacing in your head, because you were not sure on what Reiner was planning to do. The line to the muffin was still far away, and it would be stupid to run away.

[reiner | 12.17] idgaf about em

[reiner | 12.19] i want u

You could hear the girls were still talking about Reiner. Reiner this, Reiner that. You were nowhere to lie that you could feel your chest heat up with annoyance. The way their squeaking voice praised Reiner’s body, Reiner’s personality, Reiner’s wit. For the first time, you knew you were experiencing jealousy, vibrant and up-close.

“You know what? One time, Reiner thought that the way I did my hair was so cute that he wanted—”

Just in time, one of the boys raised his voice, “Oi Reiner!” and in unison the jocks erupted, welcoming his arrival like they were in some goddamn party.

You could see Reiner walking towards the line you were in, his face was hardened and his walk was swift. You immediately turned away to look at the opposite direction, not wanting to see him.

“Yooo Reiner! Where have you been? We’ve missed you dude,” one of them said. You cringed at how they all tried so hard to sound cool, “have you met Porco, by the way? And his friend—”

“—hey, what’s her name again?” one of the girls chimed in, asking Porco instead of asking you directly, as if you were not there. At that point, Reiner was standing not too far behind you, and you pretended like you were too busy with your phone, hoping the floor would engulf you instead.

“Is she like, deaf or something?” the girl whispered to Porco with a jeer, before getting back to Reiner, “So, Rei, I’ve got this party—”

“—yo Capt, do you know that—”

“—have you heard about the news, dude? Like—”

The way all these people tried to suck up to Reiner was so pathetic and incessant, they all chirped like hungry birds all in a matter of couple of seconds. You hated them and you hated the situation.

“—come on, Capt, that would be awesome—”

“—oh my gosh, Rei—”

“—you must try it, Rei—"

“Shut the fuck up,” Reiner said. Rather abruptly. His voice was cold and deep, like he couldn’t give a damn in this world about any of them. Surprised, they all dropped quiet in an instance. You looked over your back at him. Reiner was staring at you, and at you alone, not even at the Jizzhead he had grown to hate so much, “you all talk too fucking much.”

You snorted, suppressing a laughter to escape from your mouth. Clearly, it was too audible, that the girls were now looking at you with complete disdain.

“Babe,” Reiner said, staring at you, while you were still facing the opposite direction, “babe, what are you doing with this Jizzhead here? I can bake you muffins remember? If you want it so much.”

Your surrounding fell deep in silence. Everyone was either confused or surprised. Murmur started to sweep over the crowd, most audible was: ‘Who is Jizzhead?’

You scoffed, finally turning your back, although still closing your mouth trying to prevent the laughter and the embarrassment to display itself.

“What the hell?” one of the girls asked in dismay, obviously she was one of the girls sliding into Reiner’s DM and sending him bikini photos by the pretense of ‘Rei, you should join us for summer holiday!’ when all she wanted to do was to show her tits.

“Shut up,” Reiner said to her, baffling the girl to complete silence, “and stop sending me your beach photos. They’re ugly.”

An uproar of restraint laughter was heard throughout the cafeteria.

“Babe,” Reiner said again, this time extending his arms toward you, gesturing for you to come closer, “now you know why I need you, right? My friends are fucking whack.”

Few laughter was starting to break. Yet Reiner was unfazed.

“Reiner, what—”

“—yo dude, what the hell?

“—who is she?”

“—are they dating?”

“And listen here, you hag,” Reiner now turned his attention to the girl who called you deaf, “she’s got a name. Her name is ___, and she’s my fucking girlfriend.”

Embarrassed yet amused, you finally let out a small chuckle, “Reiner, please you’re humiliating me.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged off. Reiner now turned his attention to Porco, “and listen here you, Jizzhead. You can be nice to her but keep in your fucking mind, she’s mine.”

Without hesitation, Reiner pulled your hand and yanked you closer to him. You stared at him for a second, eyes broadened and heart thumping, “Reiner, what are you gonna do—”

“—shut up.” he said, cupping your face with his gigantic hands, and pulled your face roughly to him, before landing his dry, chapped lips to yours. He had gone sick of pretending, and doing things in secret. So there Reiner Braun was, hungrily, longingly, sloppily devouring your lips with his mouth, so deep, so thirsty of your taste. He finally showed the world who the true owner of his heart was. You.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Two

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Thanks for all of the encouragement on the first couple of parts of this 🥰💕 I hope y’all had a good week! 💖 Warnings: Cursing; some angst Summary: “Shitty liars need to practice, Pike.” 

“Alright, I’ve got a list,” You said, shrugging off your bag and setting it down beside Marcus’ couch. “A list?” Marcus repeated, coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water for you, “Of what?” “Thank you-- Things that we need to sort out before we get to Austin. Look, you’re a shitty liar, right? Your words, I’m paraphrasing,” You tacked on, reaching into your bag and pulling out your notebook and a pen.

“Uh-huh,” Marcus agreed amusedly. “Right, so  hopefully if we sort out our details now, you won’t feel so freaked when we’re down there. And you won’t be trying to cobble together facts on the fly. That would get incredibly messy— especially if we’re going to pull this off all week.” “A full week of lying to my family,” Marcus sighed, “Talk about a long con, huh?” You glanced up at him from under your lashes, amused. “God, you’re such a boy scout. And technically you’ve already lied to them, you started the second you told Marnie that you were bringing me— though that’s technically not a lie anymore. Just...Don’t think about it as lying, pretend you’re undercover or something,” You shrugged, flipping your notebook over to your list of questions. “So I’d be lying to myself about the lie? Isn’t that compounding it?” “You’re overthinking it, Agent.” “You might want to start calling me Marcus.” “Right,” You muttered, “I will...Remember to do that.” “So what’s on the list?” Your eyes darted up from your list as you watched Marcus shrug out of his suit jacket. You’d seen Pike in less-than-pristine states before, especially throughout the Coleman case. You’d seen him with his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and when you were half-tweaked on caffeine in your cramped office, it was… more than a little distracting. You leaned forward, picking up the glass and taking a pull from it before setting it down and settling back again. “Basics first,” You said, “How we met. I say we stick with ‘work’.” “That’s not a lie.” “I know, I thought you’d like that.” “I do.” “Okay. How long have we been together?” “Uh...Few months at least-- Five?” “I can handle five,” You jotted it down, “How come you haven’t mentioned me to them before?” You glanced over at Marcus, smiling a little when you saw his panicked expression. “Or have you gotten this one already?” You added. “No, I haven’t-- Work has been busy? Again, I think that would be sufficient, so-- Hang on.” You raised your brows as Marcus leaned back against his couch. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “What’s happening over there?” You asked. “We should change how long we’ve been together to...Maybe two or three months? If we’d been together for five and I hadn’t said anything, my family would be very suspicious.” You nodded, scribbling out ‘5’ and writing ‘2-3’. “‘Kay. Are there any significant past relationships - serious girlfriends, fiancés that I should know about? I don’t need full details, just, like, broad strokes so that if someone mentions something, I’m not completely in the dark.” “One ex-wife, one ex-fiancé,” Marcus answered without hesitation. You nodded a little, jotting that down, and stilled when he added, “My ex-wife will be at the wedding.” “Good to know. Is that contentious?” “No,” Marcus shook his head, “No, it ended amicably.” You considered Marcus, his puppy-dog eyes, soft smile and kind nature, and you couldn’t imagine it ending any other way. “She’s still close to my family,” He tacked on. “Oh,” You laughed a little, “Great. That’s gonna be fun for me.” “What do you mean?” Marcus frowned. You shot him a look. “Your family is still close to your ex-wife. You’re bringing a new girlfriend home. You don’t think this could get a little tense? Or is your entire family just as nice as you are?” Your brows rose as Marcus laughed a little, his head ducking bashfully at the question. “We try not to judge,” he conceded, shrugging, “I’ve brought a couple of other people home since the divorce. They’re not going to jump to conclusions.” You hummed, glancing further down your list. Your stomach twisted at one question, but it was one that you knew that you had to ask. “Speaking of jumping to conclusions,” You shifted in your seat, “Is there anyone in your family that might run a background check on me?” “A background check?” “Yeah,” You nodded, “I mean, I know my records are sealed and wouldn’t pop if someone ran a normal background check on me, but if anyone in your family is in law enforcement like you and...And went poking?” “No, they wouldn’t,” Marcus shook his head. “You sure?” “I’m positive.” You lowered your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stopper asking for a third reassurance as you jotted the note down. “...You don’t trust easily, do you?” Marcus asked softly. The question turned your blood icy for a moment. But for as much ire as it raised in you, you were careful not to take offense. You knew that he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you - you were doing the guy a favor, and it would be pretty ill-advised of the man to piss you off at this point. “What ever gave you that idea?” You teased instead, giving him a look out of the corner of your eye. Marcus’ lips twitched with a smile and you returned it. “Alright,” You added, looking through the rest of your list, “Let’s see what else we’ve got before we start drilling this stuff.” 

“Drilling?” “Shitty liars need to practice, Pike.” “Marcus.” “Hey, it was better than ‘Agent’.” “At least I’m not the only one that needs practice.” -- 

“Run it by me again,” You requested, tucking one leg up under yourself and leaning back against the arm of the couch. Marcus sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He’d ditched the tie, had popped the top few buttons of his shirt, and his sleeves had been rolled up around his elbows. The man looked a little haggard - it was precious. He straightened up, brow scrunching before his head tipped to the side just a little. “Okay. Okay, we met a year ago when I moved to D.C... You work with the Bureau, assisting on cases, mostly art forgeries.” You nodded encouragingly, waving him on. “We started dating two and a half months ago,” He’d settled on that, finally, not wanting to pick two or three, “After we spent so much time together on the Coleman case. You’re an art history professor, you...Have been engaged twice before,” He added, pointing a finger at you. You rolled your eyes a little bit. “Keep going,” You ordered. You raised a brow as Marcus’ brow furrowed a little more, his head turning just a bit. “You don’t have any siblings, you’re not close to your family, and we have not set any plans for the future in stone...Yet.” “Why do you keep tacking on that ‘yet’?” “Because my family knows me. They know I think about those things, and they know I don’t get into relationships unless I really think there’s something there. If they feel me pulling back on that, they’ll think it’s because I’m worried about scaring you off.” “You’re bringing me home not only to meet your family, but to stay there for a week and for a wedding-- which your entire family will be attending. I think that’s a healthy fear,” You retorted. Marcus smiled a little bit, raising his hand in concession. “How’d I do?” He asked. “Much better. You didn’t close your eyes halfway through to remember the details and you stopped ticking things off on your fingers. You do this thing, though, when you’re getting ready to lie, it’s like watching someone wind up for a pitch.” “What do I do?” “You do this--” You imitated Marcus’ furrowed brow and tilted head, “It’s subtle, but you always do it.” “You think my family’ll notice?” “Only if you play poker with them.” Marcus chuckled, slouching back against the arm of the couch and scrubbing his hand over his face. “God, I’m beat,” He muttered. You nodded a little, shutting your notebook and getting ready to tell Marcus that you would get out of his hair. “Wanna go get some dinner?” Was his next question. -- “Did you seriously just order pancakes?” You asked, brows raised. You’d wound up at a diner not too far from Marcus’ apartment - somewhere where the staff seemed to know and were very fond of him. “Yeah,” Marcus nodded firmly, “Dinner is the best time for breakfast.” You chuckled a little, reaching out and taking up your soda. “So, engaged twice?” He asked. You rolled your eyes a little. “Once in college, when I was young and...Quite stupid,” You admitted, “And then once a couple of years ago.” “What happened the second time, if you don’t...Mind?” Marcus cringed a little as he asked. It took you a moment to answer, and he rushed to add, “You don’t have to tell me.” You shook your head. “It’s okay,” You promised, “I, um… I told them that I had a record.” Marcus’ expression softened. “You hadn’t told them before?” “We moved really fast, which I usually don’t when it comes to relationships. I don’t know, usually that stuff is always on my mind when I’m with someone, but with them it never really felt like it mattered. When I did tell them, though, it…” Your eyes lowered to the table as regret twisted in your stomach, “It broke everything.” “Did you tell them what happened?” “They didn’t give me the chance.” The two of you were quiet for a few moments - Marcus digesting this information as you sat in the swirl of bitterness that it had dredged up. “Anyway,” You shook your head, drawing the both of you out of it, “Guess it shouldn’t really matter that they left when they did. I realized later that, given their reaction, they were going to leave no matter when I told them… How much of that you disclose to your family is up to you.” Marcus didn’t say anything for a few moments, searching your face. “Know what I never understood?” He finally asked. “What?” “Why they never nailed any of the people buying from you or your grandmother.” You shot him a skeptical look.  “You know that it’s not punishable by law to buy a forgery or be a rich piece of shit.” “You were a kid,” Marcus frowned. You considered this for a moment, directing your eyes to the ceiling to find the best way to order your thoughts. “...I was a minor,” You contended, “But I was old enough to know that what we were doing was wrong. I… I knew that we were duping people, I knew that it was illegal. I knew the paintings were forgeries, and I knew that the people that we were dealing with were dangerous. I’m just lucky I wasn’t tried as an adult.” “You were raised to do all of that and then left hung out to dry by the person that was supposed to protect you,” Marcus argued quietly. You swallowed thickly, hurriedly looking to the table as you felt tears spring up in your eyes. You tried not to think about these things most days. And for Marcus to have this level of empathy, of understanding...You were sure that the man had glanced through your case file at some point when he started working with you, but hadn’t expected this. Most people didn’t look too far past what you were doing to try and understand how you’d come to be in your position. But then, most people weren’t Marcus. “...No wonder I don’t trust easy, huh?” You tried to joke after you’d blinked the tears away and lifted your eyes back to his, a thin smile on your lips. Before he could say another word on the matter, the food arrived.  

The two of you tucked in quietly, After a few minutes, you nudged his foot with yours. 

“Tell me about Marnie? And her fiancé, um… Hazel, right?” You requested. 

Marcus’ face pulled with a fond smile, and you felt ease wash over you again. -- “So, just let me know what the wedding colors are so I don’t wind up wearing a dress that matches them and we should be all good,” You reached for your bag as Marcus pulled his car up in front of your apartment building. “Sure thing.” “And if you think of anything else that your family might ask about us, you know, so we can plan ahead.” “I will.” “Okay-- Oh! Uh… Are you a big PDA guy? Like, is that something your family’s going to expect?” “I tend to be kinda touchy, yeah, but I can tone it down.” “Well, what are we talking about here? Hand-holding, hugging?” “Yeah,” He nodded, “And probably a hand on your shoulder or your back, maybe a kiss on your cheek or forehead or…” Anticipation thrummed through you as his gaze darted to your lips. “‘Kay,” You nodded a little, feeling your heartbeat tick up in your chest. “We don’t have to--” Marcus started to reassure, but you waved him off. “It’s totally fine,” You reassured him, “I trust you.” Marcus smiled at you, a gentle smile overtaking his lips. “Glad to hear it. I’ll get you those wedding colors as soon as I can.” “Thanks,” You smiled, “Night, Marcus.” “Goodnight,” He chuckled as you got out of the car. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​​ ; @elen-aranel​​​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​​​ ; @artsymaddie​​​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​​​ ; @lunaserenade​​​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​​​ ; @randomness501​​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​

[ikwhatyouaremikewheeler]

The things I love about you: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson

Genre: mostly fluff, some angst

Warning: angst? Character death, scars, breakdowns?? It's just sad

Summary: Eddie gives Steve a book, of all the things he loves about him, and how he realized it.

Note: I'm sorry for this, it's a long one, and two chapters, so good luck

_____________________________

'I love you, all of your scars and flaws, all of you. I know you're reading this Steve, at least I would hope so, since I gave it to you for that reason. This book is the reasons I love you, and how I came to realize it, so good luck.' That's what the first page said, Eddie's messy writing scribbled in the lines, graphite smudges on certain parts of the paper, Steve's eyes had filled with tears, he knew he would cry, but not this early in.

About an hour has gone by, and Steve had barely made it a third through the book, gaze following the messy scribbling as he got to the first time Eddie had realized he loved Steve. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he read the page, it said: ' I first realized I loved you when we were studying at your house, with music playing in the background and you were singing along. it might sound stupid but that's how I knew, that i was in love with you ; because of how amazing you are. But my ears have not yet recovered from bleeding yet.'

Steve had been through several pages, reading through them over and over, until he stopped at a specific one, the one labeled; the rain date, this was another reason as to how Eddie was sure, but it caught him off guard. It read; ' We had a date at the diner, just across the old record store, and right before we left it started to rain, and I remember running back to your car, absolutely soaked and we got in the car; laughing about nothing. It was peaceful in a way, and it made me realize that this is how I wanted to spend my days, with you and laughing, about nothing. Being happy.'

Time skip brought by Me writing this on paper first

Steve had to stop reading after a bit, not because he was bored of it, but his eyes hurt, it was just so sweet, he couldn't help but cry. He could almost head Eddie, chuckling and saying something along the lines of 'Damn Harrington I have this much of an affect on you?' but he wasn't there, so that didn't happen. And after a bit Steve had reopened the notebook, now getting to the things he loved about him. Which included:

'Your Hair'

'You're somewhere terrible and awkward personality'

'the ability to take care of A group of 6 children '

'Youre sport skills, but I'm not a fan of it being Basketball'

'the fact that you can't bake without it turning out either burnt or not done'

The list went on for a while, and every reason had been what they had either done for a date, or something Steve had done, but the last one, the last one made his chest hurt, all it said was

'I love you, for loving me.'

Steve hadn't expected that, out of all things to show up for the last thing, before the next page had Immediately cut to letters, letters for Steve. About their dates, their memories together, his last note.. the note before he had died. (Yes he's dead again, Steve got a SMALL break)

He closed the book, contemplating if he should throw it out the window, the lake, hell maybe into a fire, to burn the words away, the impact they had on him gone. But he couldn't, this was the last gift Eddie had given him, so he refused to throw it away, no matter how bad it hurt. Opting to hide it under his bed for now, the rush of warm tears sliding down his face, wiping them away on his sweater sleeve. it was quiet, too quiet.

Without Eddie there the house just seemed dull, unalive, it was just a house, if wasn't home anymore. Eddie was his home, his life, Steve's being in a whole. That's all he could describe him as.

The tears had stopped after an hour or so, his head aching, like someone was drilling into his brain, eyes puffy and irritated. He hated it, how he refused comfort, suffering in the silence of his now empty house, far too big for just one person, it wasn't right. How he did this alone, but everyone else was suffering, he refused to ask for help, not yet at least.

So there he sat, on his bed, listening to the one record he had, the one Eddie mentioned, just to relive that moment.. to be happy again.

To be with Eddie for the last time.

THE END???

I'll be posting part two soon I promise!!

[elisela]

do you know how to do take-aways? (read on ao3) derek x stiles, g, 2.2k, au, meet cute, fluff, kid fic

prompt: call me for @tylerhunklin

--

"Hey Scott," Stiles says, jamming the phone receiver between his shoulder and ear so he can go back to typing with both his hands. "Desk duty is killing me, man, do you know how much of a backlog on paperwork there is in this place? Fucking ridiculous—"

"Stiles," Scott cuts in, “I have a call I need you to take."

Stiles sits up straighter and frowns. "We've got people out on patrol—"

Scott's laughter is warm and familiar in his ear. "No, it's not a patrol thing. I'm gonna transfer it over to you, okay? And I’m still coming to bring you dinner tonight."

"Roger," Stiles says, lazily snapping a salute despite Scott not being able to see him. There's a pause and a click, and he slips back into his professional mode—the one his dad definitely wishes he would use more often. "Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department, this is Deputy Stilinski, how can I help you?"

"Hi," a small voice says. "Do you know how to do take-aways?"

He frowns, glancing over at the display on the phone screen. He'd think it was a joke except he doubts Scott would patch that through, and there's a childish tone to the voice that's difficult to fake. "Like subtraction?" he asks.

"Yeah," the voice says. "We learned it today but I don't remember and I gotta do my homework."

He presses his lips together so he doesn't laugh and slouches, relaxing a little in his seat. "Sure do," he says. "What's your name?"

"Talia Marie Hale," she says promptly, and Stiles scribbles it down on a piece of paper. "How do I do five take away five?"

"Can you put up five fingers?" he asks, and she makes a noise of assent. "Okay, now put five of them down." He hears her counting in the background and he copies the number the shows on his display underneath her name, then clicks over to run it through the system. When she stops, he says, "okay, how many fingers do you still have up?"

"I don't have any," she says. "How do you write that?"

"Zero," he says. "Do you know how to make that? It's like a big o." He waits another moment before asking, "is anyone in the house with you, Talia?"

"Yeah, my auntie," she says. "But I can't ask her questions while she's writing unless it's an emergency."

He can't catch himself before he laughs. "What made you decide to call 9-1-1?"

"My teacher said if you ever need help you can call," Talia says. "And I really need help. What's seven take away three?"

--

The second call comes in three days later. He's peeling apart his turkey sandwich and layering Doritos on it, providing much-needed crunch, when his phone rings through from dispatch. "Sup, Scott," he says, because Scott's the only one who ever bothers to call him directly.

"Sorry, Stiles, just me," Kira says. "I have someone on the line for you. Given that she asked for you by name, maybe you could remind her that this line is for emergencies and talk to her guardian?"

He presses the top slice of bread back onto his sandwich and leans back in his chair. "Got it," he says, and waits for the click. "That you, Miss Hale?"

"Hi, Mr. Deputy Stilinski,"  she says, tiny voice chipper in his ear. "I'm really confused about this take away."

"Hit me," he says, and she giggles.

"Ten take away six," she says. "I put up all my fingers but I got confused."

He hums and glances around his desk. "Are you with your auntie again today?" he asks, and when she confirms he adds, "do you have any toys at her house?"

"I'm at my house," she says. "Auntie watches me while Daddy's away for work, but she's busy writing her thesis so I can't go in the office."

"What's your dad's name?" he asks.

"Derek Samuel Hale," she says. "And my auntie's name is Cora Elizabeth Hale, and my other auntie is Laura Margaret Hale, and my dog's name is Ruffio Hale. Like from Hook. Auntie Cora named him because she said Daddy was scared of Hook when he was my age and she likes to make fun of him. Daddy tried to rename him but he only wants to answer to Ruffio now."

He writes it all down with a grin—even the unasked for information—and flicks at his mouse to wake his computer. "Your aunt sounds pretty cool," he says. "Okay, go get ten small toys and we'll get your math done. Blocks, if you have them."

He runs Cora's name through the system as he waits, just to make sure Talia isn't being left with someone irresponsible, and finds nothing of consequence. He keeps the list, though; he'll tell Talia not to call 9-1-1 anymore unless it's an emergency, and if she does, he'll get in touch with her dad then.

--

"Little red h-hen makes s-sop," Talia reads, and pauses. "That doesn't sound right. What's ou?"

"Spell the whole thing for me," he says, and corrects, "soup," when she does, spearing a piece of microwaved chicken and popping it in his mouth. He's quiet while she reads, only interjecting when she needs help, trying to eat silently in the background. She mostly spells the comprehension questions for him and he reads them to her, and when she finally thanks him and hangs up, he looks up to see his dad standing over his shoulder.

"Hey, Pops, I finished the file on—"

"When did your desk turn in to the homework helpline?" Noah asks, frowning, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"She only calls on my break, it's fine," he says, waving a hand to brush away the question before picking up the file. "Anyway—"

"Are her parents aware?"

"I left her aunt a voicemail on Monday," he says, and when his dad just looks at him, he sighs. "Fine, I left her a message last Monday and I haven't heard back, but she's not alone in the house, nothing bad is going on, she's just—lonely, I think." It's something he understands; after his mom passed away, he'd started calling Edith, who worked the front desk of the station when he was a kid, every night his dad wasn't home.

"Call again,"  Noah says, "and next time, make whoever is home with her aware of it. Once or twice is fine; every day for weeks is a problem."

--

"Here," he says, and Talia gives him the first letter promptly before pausing and spelling out the rest. "Good job. Um, said."

He might be extending their time on the phone, just a little. He likes talking to her; she reminds him of himself, her elementary drama always makes him laugh, and she likes asking him questions about being a deputy. So he’s not really looking forward to asking to speak to her aunt and put a stop to all this.

When she seems like she’s winding down, he sighs. “I know you’re not supposed to interrupt Auntie Cora,” he says, “but I was hoping to talk to her. Can you tell her Deputy Stiles is on the phone?”

“Oh, Auntie’s not here,” Talia says, and Stiles feels the beginning of a heart attack coming on before she adds, “Daddy’s home now. I’ll go get him.” He hears a thunk and then little feet running, her calling out for her Dad before there’s a muffled thump.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi,” he says, “this is Deputy Stilinski from BHSD—is this Mr. Hale?”

“This is,” he says, and if it’s possible to fall in love with a voice, Stiles does so right then. Soft and gentle, just a bit of concern, and he has to stop himself from running Derek’s name through the system to get a photo. His dad is already irritated with him for encouraging Talia’s calls (and, you know, for the whole stopping a bank robbery in progress thing that led to the injury that landed him on desk duty), he doesn’t need to add misuse of resources to the list. “Is everything okay?”

He takes a breath and explains, starts from the beginning and includes how he gave Talia his desk number so she would stop calling 9-1-1, makes sure to add that he’d tried to get ahold of Cora—and leaves out the fact he hadn’t called Mr. Hale directly even though he could have easily done so—and when he’s finished talking, he adds, “I didn’t mind, honestly, she just told me today that you were back in town and I wanted to let you know.”

There’s a pause where he holds his breath and hopes that Mr. Hale doesn’t think he’s a creep, or doesn’t demand to speak to the Sheriff—but he just lets out a breath and says “I am so sorry, I’ll absolutely talk to her, it won’t happen again.”

“I really didn’t mind,” he says again, because he also doesn’t want to get Talia into trouble. “She must get home from school at the same time my break starts because she always called at the same time, I wasn’t busy. Just making you aware.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Hale says. “Deputy—” and isn’t Stiles going to have dreams where his name is said like that, low and grateful and—

“Sorry?” he asks, flushing when he realizes he’s lost track of the conversation. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I appreciate what you did,” Mr. Hale says. “I’ll talk to her.”

--

Talia doesn’t call the next day.

She shows up instead.

“Mr. Deputy Stiles!” he hears from the front, and his head snaps up to see a little girl with long dark hair looking around the room, envelope clutched in one hand, the holding onto the hottest man Stiles has ever seen and holy shit, he suddenly believes that karma is very real and he has clearly done something good in his life to earn this kind of reward.

He starts to stand, and her eyes catch his and light up as she tugs her dad towards him. “Miss Hale?”

“Hi!” she says, flinging her arms around his waist. He hugs her back and looks over at her dad, who gives him a sheepish look and shrugs. “I got a hundred percent on my sight words test and Daddy said we could go to ice cream to celebrate and then when we were at ice cream he said we should do something nice for you because you helped me so so so much and I really wanted to come here anyway because I want to see a real jail and Daddy said if I was really really nice and asked politely then maybe you could show me some handcuffs—”

If this is what he’s like, he’s starting to understand why it was difficult for him to make friends in school, because she just does not stop, and doesn’t leave an opportunity for him to get a word in. He crouches down so he’s eye-level with her and waits it out, accepting the envelope when she finally runs out of words and beams at him. “Thank you,” he says, and when he opens it up to find a drawing and a handful of gift cards, he looks up to Mr. Hale. “You really didn’t have to, Mr. Hale,” he says, wrapping one arm around Talia’s shoulders when she darts in to hug him again.

“Derek,” he says, and when he smiles, Stiles is pretty sure he’s found God. “We don’t want to take up your time, I just wanted to thank you.”

“But—” Talia starts, and falls quiet when Derek looks at her again. “I can’t even see the people in the jail?”

“It’s not really a jail,” Stiles says, shrugging, “just a holding cell. And there’s no one in it right now.”

“Boo,” Talia says. “Can I meet your Sheriff?”

“Lia,” Derek warns, and she sighs explosively. “Sorry about—all this. I talked to Cora and she knows to give Talia a little more attention during homework time, so she won’t—she shouldn’t—be calling you again. Talia, we need to get home. Say thank you and goodbye.”

“Bye, Mr. Deputy Stiles,” she says, and he knows—he knows—that her sticking out her bottom lip and pouting is nothing more than a manipulation tactic, but it hits him all the same. “Thank you.”

--

“Deputy Stilinski,” he says before he fully has the receiver to his ear, wadding up a piece of scrap paper and tossing it at Jordan’s head to get his attention. He motions to the pizza box laying on his desk—dinner for the station courtesy of Derek, who clearly didn’t know the going rate for tutors given the sheer amount he’d dropped on gift cards—and makes a grabbing motion. They’ll be having station dinners for weeks—so long as they cater to his busted foot and bring him what he wants. Otherwise, he’s spending it all on himself.

“Hi,” someone says, and “sorry, this is Derek Hale, Talia’s dad?”

“Hey,” he says, sitting up straighter. “How can I help you?”

“I—” there’s a pause and a muffled sound, a conversation happening just outside of what Stiles can hear. “Sorry, I—I wanted to ask if you would be interested in getting coffee on Saturday. With me,” he adds, and Stiles can hear it when he cups his hand over the microphone and says, “Talia, stop.”

It’s like a record scratch in his brain. “Coffee?” he repeats. He’d thanked karma for smiling down on him, but he’d figured the encounter with Derek was one and done. “You want—with me?”

“Yes,” Derek says, “although my daughter is also extremely interested and I believe is willing to fight me for you.”

Laughter bursts out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You know, I think Talia did call dibs first,” he says, grinning. “What if we all got coffee and then you and I went for lunch?”

“I can work with that,” Derek says. “It’s a date.”