#003⠀:⠀into the further we go⠀╱⠀answered.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl<3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

“Doing it for Max,” you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn’t your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

[intofurther]

tell me oli, how does it feel to be an actual god? like not to put u up on a pedestal or anything but hot damn i admire u and ur writing sm wow

axl,  let  me  tell  you  this:   you  genuinely  made  my  night .   i  was  minding  my  own  business,  watchin’  something,  dreading  my  morning  ‘cause  i  have  to  get  up  for  work  in  the  morning,  and  then  i  get  this  message .   my  written  thanks  will  never  surmount  to  being  a  proper  thanks,  but. . .  nonetheless. . .  thank  you  so  much  for  sending  this .   so  unbelievably  sweet .   my  brain  cannot  comprehend .

[liberandi-causa]

Prompt #003

tw: nsfw, dub-con, loss of physical limbs

The hungry kiss left Hero gasping for breath. She didn't expect Villain's tongue and teeth to quickly roam the inside of her mouth while she was still deep in her thoughts, prompting her to back a few inches from Villain's hold.

Villain smiled at the reaction, leaning in closer to Hero and grabbing her by her chin. Dark irises in contrast with the other's shimmering green.

"Still afraid of me?" Villain smirked, showing the upper part of her fangs. Perhaps as a way to further swag her captured, shaking rat albeit into a more agonising sight for her, and only hers to marvel.

"I'm not sure." Hero answered in a rush manner. The probable outcome of this particular event dawned on Hero's mind, snapping her back to be fully aware of her current circumstances. "Can you move? I think I'm getting cold here."

Villain's body moved to lean on Hero's, putting her entire weight on the latter, as if preventing any attempt should she wanted to escape. "I'll warm you up." She placed a loose strand of Hero's hair behind her ear. "There, there, no need to get nervous."

Hero gritted her teeth. "I'm not! Just please, Villain."

"Or what?" Villain snorted. "How will you fight back against me? You're on your own with me, in my world where no humans other than you is allowed an entry. No means to defend yourself either." She glanced at both the places of what used to be Hero's arms.

"I'm very good at biting." Hero remarked back, swallowing a sob. Villain's earlier words were enough to penetrate her already vulnerable walls.

Villain let out a chuckle. "Always an optimist, that's what I like about you." Her hands began wandering to the insides of Hero's clothing. "But you really should've taken my advice, my dearest."

"Villain!" Hero felt the other's fingers playing with her breast, toying with her nipples. "Stop it!"

"What if I don't want to?" Villain tilted her head. "You're going to enjoy it, trust me."

Hero's tears went down unprovoked, and Villain took the momentum and lick away the salty, clear liquid.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Hero whimpered, voice cracking.

"Are we going back to that phase?" She pulled Hero's nipples harder, earning her a moan from the latter. "You're mine now, I can do whatever I want with you." She leans down on the crook of Hero's neck, trailing lazily her collarbone with soft kisses.

"Isn't it enough you cut my hands off and now you keep me as a pet?" Hero sobbed. "You can just kill me, you know."

Villain's head perked up in a swift movement. "Why should I? You're much more interesting alive. With so many things to break and mold."

"Mold?"

"I can give you back your arms." A twisted grin formed on Villain's face. "But you have to behave yourself and fight by my side."

"And what if I don't want to?" Hero swallowed.

"Be my weak, little pet for eternity." She lightly caressed Hero's head. "It's not a bad choice too. I'll pamper and spoil you."

Another swallow and Hero looked away, almost in a shameful expression.

"I-I'll think about it."

Villain drew a victorious smile, her plan close to fruition. As she expected it to be.

[cali-holland]

Golden Hearts, Prologue

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond AU ~ Sequel to Golden Bullets

Following a messy split, Harrison, Agent 007, resumes his role as an elite womanizer, after his recovery from his previous mission; meanwhile, you’ve stepped back from your 00 status, taking on cases as MI6’s assistant director from your office. When a new threat emerges to MI6 and a dear friend gets kidnapped, can you and Harrison set aside your differences to save special agent Q, better known as Tom? Or will the stakes- and your love, push you two further apart?

Word Count: 2700

Gif is not mine

Golden Hearts Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: violence (unnamed character death, guns, someone gets stabbed, kidnapping, tranq dart, punching/kicking), swearing, sexual themes (my attempt at a heavy make out sesh), mentions of drugs & sex trafficking & sexual abuse

~~~

Tom hated field work, he really did. He could handle himself fine with a gun, but he still hated it nonetheless. Maybe it was because he hated the feeling of having no control. Behind a computer, he was the one in complete control. He could hack, invent, and upgrade things as he pleased, as if it was simple; there were no unknown variables, not truly.

Maybe another reason he hated field work was his current state— yet again, who would enjoy running away from the bullets of angry Spanish men, who were also possibly cyberterrorists.

Technically though, this wasn’t even field work. This was Tom having a good time with his family in Spain when he discovered a meeting of said suspected cyberterrorists. He didn’t mean to stumble across the secret meeting, but when he did, he did his best to acquire surveillance of the scene with his camera, taking a few photographs of the men, clear enough for facial recognition to be successful later. Thankfully, the men hadn’t linked him back to his family, leaving him to flee- or well, attempt to because he knew this information needed to be sent to MI6.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Tom cursed, ducking down an alleyway before kicking in the nearby door. He raced up the stairs and checked behind him quickly. The men were far enough behind him that he was fine- he had time to finish this small mission. He ran into the small, worn down, windowless apartment M had supplied him in case of an emergency, which he definitely felt like this counted as one. Grabbing the laptop from the desk, he slid his camera’s memory drive into it.

“Come on, come on.” He mumbled as he waited for the laptop to load the images. With the file upload complete, he drafted a quick email, fingers flying across the keyboard.

‘Find L’Americain.’ Tom wrote out in the message space before adding in the two recipients, the two people he could trust most with this critical information. Just before he could press the little arrow to send the message, the door got kicked down by the opposing men. Instantly, Tom put his hands up in surrender, knowing with his lack of weapons that taking them on wasn’t his best option- or maybe it was.

One of the men shouted out orders, and Tom eyed the open email in front of him. He couldn’t let this just go to waste; no, he was sacrificing his life for this, it had to go to someone at least. Taking a deep breath, he quickly hit the send button. In one fast motion, he removed the memory drive and threw it on the ground, crushing it and all of its data. He shut the laptop and put his hands up again, feeling one of the men step forward and point his gun against Tom’s head.

“Alright, I’m done.” Tom said with a sigh. He watched as a second man opened the laptop, only to find the computer frozen without Tom’s unhackable code to unlock it. The leader spoke again, and this time, the man behind Tom shoved him to turn him around.

“Who did you send the message to?” The leader questioned in a thick Spanish accent.

“Doesn’t matter.” He paused, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, “All you need to know is— you don’t need to find them, they’ll find you.”

“Are you sure about that?” The other man asked, cocking his gun.

With a wave of confidence, Tom grabbed the man’s wrist in front of him, twisting it up and grabbing the gun from his hands. He fired twice, one hit the man in the chest and the second at the laptop, blowing a bullet straight through the device. He then shot the only light in the room, sending the space into darkness. Tom ducked as the other two fired blindly, and he swept his leg down to knock one over. Tom clutched onto his gun before running in the direction of the exit.

The moment he got back onto the streets of Spain, he ran as fast as his feet could carry him, booking it down the busy roads towards the proper MI6 safehouse, where, hopefully, a better and actually trained field agent would be. He could see the familiar, yellow safe house in the distance, just a block away, and he began to run even harder, feeling a surge of hopefulness overcome him. He might actually make it through this.

That hope was quickly lost as two black motorcycles came from the side streets, stopping with their guns raised, effectively halting him in his tracks. Tom raised his own gun, ready to fire at them. While he was distracted by these two, he didn’t catch the third motorcyclist behind him. He felt a prick to his neck before a sudden wave of drowsiness washed through his system. Dropping the gun, he fell limp to his knees.

“The hell—?” He mumbled, his fingers tracing over the tranq dart in the back of his neck. 

That was the last thing he remembered before he slipped into a deep state of unconsciousness.

~~~

The moment he stepped into the club, he was blinded by the pink and gold neon lights, his ears flooding with the blaring sound of some atrocious techno music that had no business being played in such a setting. He followed the waitress dressed in the club’s signature colors to a vip room. When she opened the door for him, he slid past her while brushing his fingers against her waist, a smirk playing on his lips as he did so. In the room sat six men around a deep brown circular table, all dressed in their finest suits; the smoke from their cigars hanging in the air and onto their crisp glasses of whiskey.

The one at the head of the table spoke first, his hand outstretching towards the only open chair at the table, “How nice of you to join us, Mr.—?”

“Osterfield. Harrison Osterfield.” He answered, smoothing out his suit as he took a seat in the chair.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” The waitress asked from his side.

“Martini. Thank you, love.” Harrison replied, his lips in his signature smirk. The woman left the room quickly, leaving him to discuss business with the other men.

“So, Mr. Osterfield,” The leader didn’t get to finish his thought as Harrison held up a finger, silently telling him to wait a moment. The waitress returned to the room, handing him the shaken martini.

“I never discuss business without a drink first.” He stated, before drinking the beverage down in one quick motion. His fingers traced the small, sharp metal rod, complete with a green olive still on the end of it. The men watched as he picked the olive off, abandoning it in the glass.

��You know, I thought a bunch of drug dealing, sex trafficking assholes would check their new guests for guns first.” Harrison said. The men went to draw their weapons, but he was faster, throwing the rod across the table and straight into the leader’s eye. He drew his compacted machine gun from his back holster, firing along the circular table until none of them so much as blinked. He tucked his gun back away under his suit and turned to see the same waitress from before. Her eyes were wide with fear, but he could see her shoulders relax as she realized he wasn’t going to harm her, an innocent employee. He watched as her eyes stayed on one man of the group in particular. 

Slowly, Harrison stepped towards her, “Did he hurt you?” When she nodded, he went to comfort her, but she shook her head the moment his hands touched hers.

“Thank you. They were the worst.” She stated, and Harrison couldn’t sense any fear in her voice as she spoke; no, she sounded perfectly fine- happy, even.

“It’s no problem, love.” He smiled at her, blue eyes lighting up as her eyes met his.

“There must be some way for me to,” She paused, “repay you.”

“Well,” Harrison’s lips curved into a smirk, eyeing the waitress up and down, “What time do you get off, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Harder, Harry!”

“I don’t want to hurt you- oh god.” Harry landed on the ground with a loud thud. He let out a groan, rubbing his abdomen where your punch had landed. You playfully rolled your eyes at him as you held out a hand for him to stand up again. He took your hand and nearly fell over again, still surprised by how forceful your grip was.

“Told you I could handle myself.” You teased, making him laugh.

“Are we done yet?” He asked, but still got in position across from you in the ring.

“You can’t be tired already?” You joked, and he raised his eyebrows at you. You sighed, before raising your fists. “Fine. Last one.”

“Loser buys drinks on Friday?” Harry offered, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Agents aren’t my type. Besides, you already know I’m going to win.” You smirked.

“I’m not an agent yet, remember?” He reminded you with a wink.

“Your status changes at midnight, Agent 003.”

“Better get busy on those drinks then.”

As you started to throw punches at him again, he blocked them the best he could, his arms and torso still getting clipped by your knuckles. You started to pull your punches, letting him feel like he had the upper hand. Just as Harry was about to make a comment about finally beating you, you jumped up and kicked him square in the chest, sending him backwards and onto the decently solid ground of the sparring mat. You smirked down at him.

“Finished, Holland?” You asked, and he let out a sigh and nodded- rather, nodded as best he could. You held your hand out to him again, and he took it just like every other time you knocked him over in training. “Good session today. I say you’re 00 ready.”

“I still can’t believe it. Me? A 00 agent.” Harry chuckled while the two of you walked outside of the sparring ring to get your water bottles. “I can’t wait to tell Tom.”

“When does he get back from Spain? He’s there with your family, right?” You inquired before taking a long drink of the refreshing ice cold water.

“Yeah, he should be back in a few days. I’m still kinda bummed my training process kept me from going, but I guess you kinda sign away family vacation as a 00.” He laughed.

“Oh, definitely.” The training room fell silent as you quickly gathered your bag. The moment you were ready to leave, you made a beeline for the door, and Harry jogged to catch up to you.

“About those drinks-“ He started.

“I’ve already told you. It’s not happening, Harry.” You replied, continuing your path to your car.

“Just one date?” He asked. When you didn’t respond, he reached a hand out for yours. The second his finger brushed against your skin, you instinctively grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck. I’ll drop it.”

You let go of his hand with a small laugh, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.” And with that, you got into your BMW and sent him a quick wave. 

When you got back to your apartment, you let out a deep sigh, tossing your bag down next to your couch. It was silent, just like it always was now. Sticky with sweat from your post-work training, you headed straight for the shower. Once you were out of the warm water’s embrace, you changed into your red satin robe, draping it over your shoulders and tying it around your waist. You turned on the TV for background noise as you cooked yourself a quick meal for dinner. It wasn’t until you were sitting down and eating that you realized your TV was playing a “Mission Impossible” movie, right in the middle of an action-packed Tom Cruise scene.

You watched as the actor scaled the Burj Khalifa in Mumbai. With a sigh, you set your empty plate and fork aside, twirling the steak knife in your hand. You didn’t take your eyes off the movie as you threw the knife to your right, sending it straight into the bullseye of your dartboard. You huffed; a steak knife and a dartboard, you really were bored.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss field work. There was a reason why you personally trained Harry to become a 00 agent instead of having another, lesser agent take it on. After all, though, Tom wanted his younger brother to be trained by the best, which was you, even after three months behind a desk. You missed the suspense of keeping undercover, the sweet taste of action, all of it. 

But MI6 was changing, and that meant you had to change too. As M retired and was replaced by the new M, Gareth Mallory, you turned in your 00 status to stay in the office. And, with Nine Eyes, a new global security company, seeking to merge with MI6, the 00 program was at stake now as it is, yet all of that was information left to remain between you, Q, and M. Global security sounded like a dream, but it would mean a lot more changes to the organization.

Just as you were about to turn off your TV and turn in for yet another lonely night, a notification came through your computer across the room. Curious, you stood up and walked over to your desk, taking a seat in the office chair to examine the new notification.

“New encrypted message from Q,” the screen read. You clicked on the message to open it, your eyes going wide at the contents.

“Oh god,” You breathed out.

Meanwhile, across London, Harrison was having a different night than you. 

“This is me.” The waitress’s lips barely separated from Harrison’s as she spoke. With his hands around her waist, fisting at the loose fabric of her work dress, he walked them backwards out of the elevator. He dipped his head down to hungrily nip at her neck while she led them to her apartment. She fumbled with the keys as Harrison found the sweet spot on her neck, already marking a hickey there. The moment she got the door open, his hands slid down the back of her thighs and she jumped into his embrace, chests pressed against each other.

“Bedroom?” Harrison panted out, his blue eyes full of lust.

“First door on the left.” She barely got the words out before his lips were desperately back on hers. 

He stumbled his way through the dark apartment to her bedroom before laying her down on the bed. Her hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt as he discarded his jacket somewhere behind him. She pushed her lips back onto his, sloppily kissing him while he shrugged off his shirt. Harrison wasted no time in finding the zipper on her dress, tugging it down. The moment the dress slipped from around her, she pulled Harrison back with her on the bed, and his lips hungrily followed hers, moans slipping from both of their throats as their tongues and teeth clashed.

Hearing his smartwatch alert him of a new message, Harrison broke the kiss, leaning on one arm to look at his wrist. The waitress’s lips dipped down his neck, biting and sucking on his skin as her hands scratched over his abs, a detour on the way to his belt. 

“New encrypted message from Q.” Harrison read the alert, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“Stop, stop.” Harrison said, pulling the waitress off his body as he got off the bed. 

“Where are you going?” She asked, hurt by the sudden change.

“I have to go. Sorry, love.” He answered, but he really wasn’t that apologetic as he slipped his clothes back on. She huffed and made some angry comment about him mistreating women, but the words flew over his head. He rushed out of the apartment and made his way to the elevator. Once he was within the comfort of the four metal walls with no one around, he opened up the new email on his phone. He let out a shaky sigh, peering down at the message’s contents.

“Shit.”

~~~

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[psychopersonified]

Who’s the brunette?

Part of the prequel series to "Are we ever going to talk about this?".

I'll post little snippets of their 'not dating' days in this series. Little events that draw them together and the intimacy they share in plain sight.

This particular snippet happens Monday after the Friday party in “Keep Calm. Dance On.”

------

“Oh 007, did you hear? There is the most unusual rumour going around. Seems someone thought they saw the Quartermaster leave last week’s party in an Aston Martin DB5? You wouldn’t know anything about this would you?”

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

Monday 8:30am - SIS HQ.

The lift doors open at Parking Level 2 to admit a well rested and impeccably put together Eve Moneypenny.

“Moneypenny, morning. How are you?” Bond says in greeting.

“007. You’re early,” she skips the greeting, her tone a little frosty as she gets into the lift and turns around to face the doors.

“So it’s 007 today? May I know what I’ve done to deserve it this time?” Bond knows enough about women to know that it is always his fault.

“IF you’re interested… someone I call a friend left me all alone at a party last Friday.”

Bond freezes... ah that. He’d completely forgotten. He drops his head in embarrassment. After all, It was Eve who convinced him to attend. A decision he was incredibly grateful to her for. He recalls the night and how he spent it in the company of a leggy brunette.  

“Ah… I must apologise. That was terribly ungentlemanly of me,” pause, he needs to get himself out of the doghouse, “How can I make it up to you?”

“Well, for starters, you might tell me who it was that caught your attention. So much so that you left a good friend high and dry?” She’s laying it on a bit thick, but where would the fun be otherwise?

“What makes you think it was a someone? It was an office party after all.”

Eve leans over to him, a hand reaching up towards Bond’s shoulder. He’s still wearing his outer coat, having come straight up from the parking garage. Her hand comes back with a strand of hair between her fingers; she holds it up in front of his eyes - it clearly isn’t his.

“Who’s the brunette?” She teases him.

Bond schools his face into a neutral expression looking straight ahead. Bloody spies and their deductive skills.

-Ding!- The lift announces its next stop on Ground Level. The lift doors open, revealing a small group of people waiting for the lift - including Q, R and Mark at the front.

Everyone squeezes in. The lift is packed tight, yet no one wants to take the second lift; a result of the lifts being notoriously slow during rush hours.

There is a chorus of polite greetings:-

“Good Morning.”

“Excuse me.”

“Pardon. Which level?”

“How’s it going?”

“Level 7 please. Thanks.”

There is some awkward shifting as the occupants arrange themselves according to who is going to alight first.

Q ends up standing in front of Bond, back to him.

Eve has a mischievous glint in her eyes. She still has the strand of hair between her fingers. So she lifts it and holds it up to the back of Q’s head. The colour and length is an exact match.

Bond slides his eyes towards her. He wants to smack her hand away. They are in a packed lift for Christssake. Eve’s little action catches R’s attention and she tilts her head thoughtfully at them. Eve shots her a meaningful look.

The lift dings their arrival at Level 3. Five people alight except for Bond, Eve, Q, R and Mark - they are headed for the Executive floor on Level 12 to their respective meetings.

The remaining occupants sigh in relief. They start moving apart to give each other more personal space. But before they can do that, six more SIS employees enter - making it worse than before.

“Hold the lift please! Thanks!” A -seventh- person calls just as the doors start to close. A breathless Accounts Department employee squeezes her way in while struggling to carry two cardboard boxes of files. Everyone has to politely shuffle closer to the back to make room.

Bond is forced all the way to the back corner of the lift, the hand rails digging into his back. Eve has to move to the other corner. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t M see him later in the morning?

This leaves the Quartermaster on his side of the lift. Q also has to shift back but accidentally steps on Bond’s expensive Italian leather shoe and jolts away too quickly in apology - nearly losing his balance.

“Oh! My apologies—,” It comes out as a rushed whisper.

“—you’re alright.” Bond places his hands on Q’s waist to steady him. Q is wearing only a cardigan made from the softest cashmere over his dress shirt and tie. Bond can feel the warmth of the flesh underneath. He uses the slightest pressure to pull Q backwards into his personal space, so that the others can move in.

Q’s right shoulder blade makes contact with one of Bond’s pectorals. But the younger man makes no protest, on the contrary - unless Bond’s imagining it, he feels Q lean further into the touch. They are pressed close in the compact space, he can smell the fresh scent of Q’s soap and shampoo.

Maybe there is some good that comes from being in crowded lifts. The rest of the ride up feels like an eternity spent in awkward silence for everyone inside with the only distraction being the soft jazzy elevator music. It feels like the lift made a stop at every floor.

Bond does not remove his hands until the lift arrives at Level 12 where M’s office is located. They all alight. Bond and Moneypenny head directly to M’s office. The techies movie off to the conference room for the monthly joint Ops meeting.

Eve waits until she is alone with Bond just outside of her office to ask:

“Oh 007, did you hear? There is the most unusual rumour going around. Seems someone thought they saw the Quartermaster leave last week’s party in an Aston Martin DB5? You wouldn’t know anything about this would you?”

Busted. Yes, so he did spend the party stuck to the Quartermaster’s side. And yes, he did steal Q out for a post revelry kebab supper - which may have included a long stroll along the river after. Finally yes, he did make sure Q got to his doorstep at the end of the very late night/early morning, but only out of concern for his safety.

Bond considers his options.“Name your price.”

“What exactly are you implying? I’m offended that you’d think I’d stoop to blackmail—“ Eve places a hand over her heart in mock indignation, “—but I suppose since you do owe me an apology…” She bats her eyelashes at him.

She mulls over it, “There is this restaurant in Soho, it’s booked out for months. But I’m sure you have your ways around it. My family is in town next week.”

She unlocks the door to the office, letting them both in. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Consider it done.” Bond assures her courtly, he really was sorry about ditching her on Friday. Nevertheless, he is surprised at how easy he is being let off on this - when you consider how protective Eve can be over their Chief Boffin.

“Aren’t you going to warn me off?” Bond wonders aloud.

“Do I have to? It is still just a harmless game... isn’t it?” She searches his face for any indication otherwise, though she reckons she knows the answer even if Bond himself doesn’t know it yet.

He holds the door open for her. M arrives behind them cutting off any answer he might have.

———

Friday 4:30pm - SIS HQ

If Bond has to hear about North Korea again in the next 3 months, it would still be too soon. He had just finished an all day strategy conference with Mallory, 009 and their Korean Station Chief about how MI6 was going to extract their operatives embedded in the regime in the face of the recent crackdowns.

It is not that he’s being insensitive, the meeting is critical and he had played his part in contributing to the discussion and assessing the tactics available to them. It is just that both M and 009 have a tendency to prattle on (his opinion) and discuss ad nauseam every detail, while 007 prefers to… well, get on with it.

Unsurprisingly the meeting ran overtime and Bond is feeling peckish. And when his blood sugar runs low, his patience runs thin. At least this time, he had managed to behave long enough for the meeting to end.

It takes him 20 excruciating minutes to reach Q-Branch. It is Friday afternoon, and like any other civil service, MI6 lobbies and lifts are a hive of activity with most employees trying to wrap up for an early weekend.

Most of the time was spent waiting for the lifts, and then riding the lift, then letting people in and then out the lift - there has to be a better system to organise the lift service.

Bond is inordinately relived when he finally arrives at Q-Branch all the way in the basement floors of the building.

Once he’s through the doors, he makes a beeline for Q’s office nook and Q’s desk. The man is not around, but Bond helps himself with familiar ease. Bond pulls open the second drawer and retrieves a bar of protein snack from the stash in the drawer.

He is almost finished with the bar when he realises that Q has not returned to his desk and is nowhere to be seen on the work floor. Curious, he makes a circuit of the floor trying to be surreptitious.

Jamila catches him ‘not’ looking and puts him out of his misery. “He’s downstairs, in the Firearms Lab with 003,” she doesn’t bother asking if he is there on official business.

Bond tries not to look like he’s been caught, but manners win out and he attempts a casual, “...Thank you.” - his feet starting to carry him towards the main doors.

“Badge!” Jamila calls out to remind him.

Bond backtracks smoothly, heading to Q’s desk and that second drawer to grab his blasted employee ID badge that he keeps in there. He can get away without it on the upper floors, but the Lower Ground labs contain live ammunition and thus require extra authentication for security.

—-

The labs are a study of industrial utilitarian design - an amalgamation of concrete, steel and glass.

003 is easy to locate. Her stunning if scant evening gown incongruous in the surroundings. Bond can only see her from the back. She has one stiletto heel resting on something in front of her.

As he draws nearer, his viewing angle changes and he can see what or more accurately who her heel is propped up on.

Their Quartermaster is on one knee in front of her. The toes of her shoe resting on his thigh. The side slit of the dress is cut high and hides very little.

Q is adjusting her thigh holster, a specially designed and fabricated skin-coloured thing worn fairly high on the leg to make it less obvious. To improve stability, the holster is anchored with clips that connect directly to 003’s one piece undergarment.  

“Oh Q, the material is perfect - incredibly comfortable, but the fit needs to be tighter.” She provides him with feedback. When she looks up, she catches Bond in the reflection of a nearby glass wall - watching them with wide blue eyes.  

“Yes, right. There is an adjustment strap on the inside so all you have to do is… “ Q pulls at the tab - careful not to touch her skin in so much as he can, seeing that the tab is located near the inner thigh. 003 gathers her skirt up higher to allow him better access.

From Bond’s angle, their combined actions are grossly inappropriate.

“…pull this tab to adjust for the required fit. We’ve gone with the new hook-and-loop fasteners so they shouldn’t catch on most fabrics, even delicate ones. This should allow you to use it with any frock of your choice.“ Q explains still oblivious.

“How thoughtful of you Q. I don’t suppose you could make them in… lace trim?” She says to the top Q’s head, smirking into the refection, raising a perfect eyebrow at 007.

“We can make them in any colour or trim you’d like 003. Just let us know what you need. Please allow for a few weeks though, as the elastane base material is specially sent for.” Q looks up at her with a shy smile.

“Oh you spoil us Q. We never had such personalised service until you came along.” She coos down at him while she ran one hand lightly through his hair combing back his fringe while the other formed a hooked finger under his chin to tip his head up to her.

003 is wearing a self-satisfied grin. What a picture they made! Her deft manoeuvring had Q looking like the very picture of a besotted young man attending submissively to his object of infatuation.

She sees 007 in the refection clenching and unclenching his hands. Whoops…. she knows 007, having worked him with him over the years. They get along fine. But this new development is interesting. What is his problem anyway?

Perhaps it would be best to end this here for now.

“Well, thank you Quartermaster. I’d best not take up anymore of your time. Will it be alright if I stayed here to have a chat with 007?” She dismisses him politely, adjusting her skirt and removing her heel from his thigh.

“Oh, yes of course. Sure.” Q stands, brushing his trousers.

“Ah 007, I didn’t see you there—,” the sentence is cut off when Q catches Bond’s blazing blue eyes and dark expression and is confused, “D… did you need anything?”

Bond schools his expression back to neutral. “Not at the moment. Just need a quick word with 003. Meet you back upstairs?”

Q collects his tablet and nods his leave to both of the agents.

When Q is out the doors, 007 closes the distance between him and 003 - who to her credit is not cowed. Instead of stepping back, she steps sideways and the two double-0 agents circle each other for a few moments.

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” she finally says, exasperated with his posturing, also she was getting dizzy with the circling. They were friends, well as much as trained assassins with trust issues can be.

“You—,” she points a finger at him, “—need to learn how to share. You monopolised all of his time last Friday night! After that delicious display of his, I’d like to take him out clubbing and see what else is hiding under that cardigan wearing persona.” She confesses, but still annoyed at 007.

She makes a squeezing motion with her hands, a gesture usually reserved for when talking about cute animals, “He’s so adorable I want to stuff him in my pocket--,” then she indicates to her skin tight dress, “—if I had any.”

Bond is not moved. He feels like they are siblings negotiating playtime allotment with a favourite pet or toy. Well, he was an only child and he had never learnt to share.

“The rest of us would like to play too you know. Alec says—,” 003 nearly throws a tantrum.

“He’s not a plaything!” Bond’s vehement whisper surprises even him. Where did that come from?

“Pot. Kettle…” Comes her practiced reply. But something in his tone catches up to her. She studies him closer. Bond appears to be grappling internally with his own words.

-Oh.My.God- Can it be? 003 abandons her petulant tantrum. The adult slipping back into place.

“You’re not… playing anymore are you?” the question comes from a place of genuine interest.

No answer. Just a sullen 007 staring at his feet, hands in his pockets.

“Huh! Of all the people you choose...” She shakes her head at him.

Well then, there is only one thing left to do. She comes right up close to him, cups his face in her perfectly manicured hands, forcing him to look at her - then says with as much sisterly fondness as she could muster:-

“Don’t. Cock. It. Up.”

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

Note: If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Including my take on a kidnapped Q. Enjoy!

[lgcmanager]

BAND MISSION 004

SCHEDULE TYPE: TRIMESTER SCHEDULE RESTRICTIONS: Cannot be paired with another trimester schedule, unless stated otherwise

in the early morning of JANUARY 18, BAE MIHI has called a meeting with all of the CURRENT BAND MEMBERS, old and new. the hour is early, but mihi’s early bird personality is showing. she’s lively and animated as she greets each trainee before clapping her hands together to let them know that they’ll get started. “it seems like we just have two new faces joining us this term. welcome to the group!” her hands clap together quickly once again, looking to the others to try to engage them all in doing the same. “i am the head manager of LGC MUSIC and it’s always so lovely to see all of you! there’s nothing really new from the prior term that i need to add. all of you will continue to share one manager for now unless the group grows too big for one person to handle. however, we’ll give you a heads up definitely before that will happen!”

DORMS

“inseong, sookyung; you will soon be moving in with the others if it hasn’t been done yet. there are way fewer people in each room, so i do hope you’ll like the new arrangement!”

SNS

a smile rests on her face as she continues on. “now, SNS ACCOUNTS. gosh, all these rules!” she giggles, “the rules still haven’t changed on that front; you will still be using the sns company accounts for the time being. this may change in the future, but for now, this is the protocol.”

DEBUT CONTRACT

“we’re almost done with the legalities just bear with me here,” she looks back down on her sheet to make sure that she’s covered everything. “hyunbin, your band debut is quickly approaching which means that there are new legal grounds we need to cover. everyone here will receive a NEW CONTRACT that will need to be signed and returned as soon as possible. please get to them as soon as you can if you are very serious about debuting!”

BAND MISSION PART 001-A: JAPANESE LESSONS

her faces drops to a scowl and she sighs. “i have to say, i’m very disappointed guys.” she turns her head towards SUNISA. “last trimester, i asked each and everyone of you to work on your japanese skills. the plan was to send you in japan to experience the indie scene. unfortunately, i have heard that you haven’t even bothered with the workshops. what does this mean?“ she pauses, giving him the time to answer. “well... you see, i found myself in a bind; do i send the remainder of BLACKLIGHT to japan without you, or do i punish you all. i hate to think of this as punishment, but since the start of this, i think i made it clear that unity is important under LGC MUSIC. so i decided to make this a lesson on unity. therefore BLACKLIGHT promotions in japan are postponed unti further ado.” she turns towards the two newcomer, this time with a smile. “the positive is that you guys will be able to catch up with the others and won’t be left behind! for the next trimester, the three of you, INSEONG, SOOKYUNG and SUNISA, must attend japanese lessons with ISHIDA AYANO every morning of the week. i expect that by next trimester the three of you will have reach a minimum of proficiency in that language (50 points)”

BAND MISSION PART 001-B: GOING SOLO

she then turns to the four others she hasn’t mentioned yet. “i know this must be frustrating for you guys, and i hope you don’t take it personally. the days of competing with one another is over, you are under LGC MUSIC now. as i said, this should be a lesson for all, not a punishment for you who have done as requested.” she gives them a sheepish smile. “for the four of you who have this path close to your heart, i thought about something. remember when i met you all individually to know your plans? funny enough almost all of you expressed interest into making music. so guess what you’ll be doing this trimester? exactly that!”

she seems ready to bounce off her chair with how excited she’s getting. “the four of you will be working on your first songs! i want you guys to pair up and, by the end of the trimester, present me two songs (sidetrack/bsides only) that could be used by your future group!”

BAND MISSION PART 002: UNITY

“finally! since today is all about unity, i’ve came up with a little activity to make you become closer! i’ve thought about sending you a month in the army, but the higher ups refused.” she chuckles, making the others wonder if she’s serious or not. they will never know. instead, she makes a bowl appear from under the table. “all of you, pick a paper, and keep it hidden.” she passes the bowl around as she speaks. “i know we’re a little late for a secret santa, but we’re never too late to get closer! on the paper, you’ll have the name of the person for whom you must prepare a special event! make sure to prepare something that they will like. don’t take someone to a cat cafe if they are allergic to cats for instance! i count on all of you to make your partner feel special!”

** yes, this means that you’ll have 2 threads for this event; one where your muse will be the host of the event, and the other, the receiver of the event **

here’s the list of who received who:

BANG SOOKYUNG: LEONG CHARLOTTE

HAN INSOO: PARK SEOJIN

KIM HYUNBIN: HAN INSOO

LEONG CHARLOTTE: TSAI SUNISA

PARK SEOJIN: KIM HYUNBIN

TSAI SUNISA: BANG SOOKYUNG

BAND MISSION PART 003: INTERVIEW

“the main branch is finally taking interest in us, so INSOO, CHARLOTTE and SEOJIN, the three of you will be interviewed for LGC ACCESS”

** for more information on the matter, please check the ENTERTAINER MISSION **

REQUIREMENTS

make sure to use the  hashtag lgc:bandmission for everything related to this event. you have until APRIL 3, 2020 11:59PM EST to complete the following written requirement.

JAPANESE LESSONS:  write a 300+ words solo or a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines) thread with a partner that takes place during the lessons for +8 JAPANESE

GOING SOLO: write a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines) thread with your partner that takes place during the creation of the song  for +4 MUSIC COMPOSITION + 4 LYRICS COMPOSITION. ** makes sure to submit the song for approbation to lgcmanager **

UNITY: write a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines) thread with your partner that takes place during their events +8 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE. **soould be claimed twice ** 

INTERVIEW: complete a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines) thread with an entertainer for +4 VARIETY +3 NOTORIETY !

to validate your skill points and colect your notoriety points, please submit the following form ONCE on the points blog before APRIL 3 11:59 EST.

TITLE: MUSE NAME ∙ BAND MISSION 004

- JAPANESE LESSONS/GOING SOLO: +8 japanese OR +4 music composition + 4 lyric composition [ LINK ] - UNITY: +8 ( skill points distribution ) [ LINK ]  - INTERVIEW : +4 variety + 3 notoriety [ LINK ] ( ** insoo, charlotte, seojin )

[phinnsyreads]

Item #: SCP-4966

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4966 is to be kept within a modified humanoid containment cell sized appropriately for a domestic cat to move freely. This cell is to be furnished with several pieces of cushioned furniture. Recreational objects such as climbing towers, plush toys, and small plastic objects have also been provided. SCP-4966 is to be socialized with tri-weekly by on-site researchers. Tests involving SCP-4966 are to be approved by Dr. Bannock. Personnel wishing to provide SCP-4966 with additional recreational objects are to purchase them using their own funds.

Description: SCP-4966 is an animate quadrupedal creature constructed of gray fabric. All attempts to pierce or damage this fabric have failed. X-rays and other examinations of SCP-4966 have shown a lack of any internal structures. SCP-4966’s body is completely devoid of markings or orifices, with the exception of two black eyes and a woven mouth. Vocalizations made by SCP-4966 are similar to that of a young feline. SCP-4966 is highly social and will become anxious and withdrawn if not socialized with on a normal basis. SCP-4966 has a tendency to imitate the actions of other entities it interacts with. SCP-4966 shows no apparent need to eat, drink, or breathe, although it will imitate these actions if another entity is doing the same.

When presented with the corpse of an organism, SCP-4966 will extend its mouth through unknown means and consume the corpse in its entirety, causing its body to bulge and stretch around the added mass. All attempts to measure the tensile strength of SCP-4966 while in this state have failed, as SCP-4966’s skin will visibly remain the same density throughout this process. No limit has been found to the degree that SCP-4966 is able to distend, with it having completely enveloped the corpse of an adult blue whale (Balaenoptera musculus) during testing.

Once a corpse is fully enveloped, SCP-4966’s body will slowly return to its normal size. During this deflation, SCP-4966 will experience alterations in its morphology consistent with the physical characteristics of the organism it consumed. The most common alteration is the addition and modification of limbs, although other alterations such as changes in SCP-4966’s proportions and vocalizations have been recorded. The only physical traits of SCP-4966 that are unable to be altered are its existing facial features and gray coloration. Alterations will remain for approximately 4 hours after consumption, after which SCP-4966 will regurgitate biological waste consistent with the composition of the consumed organism.

Addendum: Included below are several excerpts from the SCP-4966 experiment log for the purpose of further understanding SCP-4966’s transformation abilities.

Introduced Corpse: An adult male timber rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus).

Corpse Integrity: Shows initial signs of decomposition.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966’s torso extended approximately 150 cm more in length than previous measurements, with its abdomen ending in a developed tail and rattle. SCP-4966 used this additional length during testing to wrap around and climb the limbs of researchers but was not wrapped tightly enough to inhibit blood flow. The developed rattle was used by SCP-4966 almost constantly during its transformation, often shaking it while interacting with researchers.

Regurgitated Matter: A mass of decomposing keratin and liquified organic matter.

---

Introduced Corpse: An adult female lionfish (Pterois miles).

Corpse Integrity: Shows signs of advanced decomposition. The interior of the corpse is almost completely putrefied. Despite the corpse’s venomous spines, SCP-4966 was able to consume it without issue.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966 developed a pair of pectoral fins, an anal fin, and a large dorsal fin constructed of several long spines. These fins were observed impeding SCP-4966’s movement, specifically limiting its vertical mobility. Chemical analysis of the spines tested positively for lionfish venom. As such, no further interaction with SCP-4966 was conducted prior to regurgitation.

Regurgitated Matter: Broken spines and liquified organic matter.

---

Introduced Corpse: A pile of deceased sycamore maple (Acer pseudoplatanus) leaves.

Corpse Integrity: Slightly degraded.

Developed Alterations: No observed alterations. SCP-4966 consumed a single leaf before immediately regurgitating it. SCP-4966 spent the remainder of the test playing within the pile of leaves, repeatedly jumping into it from provided furniture. Requests to provide SCP-4966 with additional plant matter for recreational purposes are currently pending.

Regurgitated Matter: A slightly damaged leaf.

---

Introduced Corpse: A female adult ostrich (Struthio camelus).

Corpse Integrity: Severely damaged. The corpse was presented to SCP-4966 in several pieces, with the left leg and head of the corpse not present.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966’s legs extended approximately 1.3 meters and developed two large toes similar to that of an ostrich.1 SCP-4966’s head extended approximately 1.2 meters upwards, forming a large curved neck. A pair of featherless wings developed on the sides of SCP-4966’s torso. On several occasions, SCP-4966 attempted to take flight using these wings, with SCP-4966 eventually jumping off of provided furniture in an attempt to glide. Despite ostriches' normally territorial nature, SCP-4966 remained sociable during its transformation.

Regurgitated Matter: Several shattered portions of bone and a large amount of liquified organic matter.

---

Introduced Corpse: The head of a male adult Eastern moose (Alces alces americana).

Corpse Integrity: Corpse is taxidermied, and is well preserved.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966 developed large antlers approximately 1.4 meters across. Due to the size of these antlers relative to SCP-4966’s head, its sense of balance and mobility was severely hindered. Additionally, SCP-4966 developed large ears that lacked structural support and were unable to keep themselves upright. Auditory cognition tests determined that the ears did not improve SCP-4966’s hearing ability.

Regurgitated Matter: A large compact mass of metal slag, wood pulp, and shattered bone.

---

Introduced Corpse: A pair of ████ brand genuine leather boots.

Corpse Integrity: Recently purchased and unworn.

Developed Alterations: No observed alterations. SCP-4966 approached the boots before lightly biting the toe of the left boot. After examining the right boot in a similar fashion, SCP-4966 knocked over the right boot and climbed inside of it, falling asleep shortly afterward.

Regurgitated Matter: None.

---

Remainder of Experiment Log requires Level 4/4966 security clearance.

Please input security credentials. . Credentials approved.

Introduced Corpse: The corpse of D-01763, who was an upholsterer prior to her incarceration.

Corpse Integrity: Well preserved.

Developed Alterations: No physical alterations were observed. Upon consumption, SCP-4966 emitted several strained vocalizations before speaking in slightly incoherent English. SCP-4966 began commenting on the construction of its furniture, claiming that its provided bedding material was far below standard requirements for domestic pets. It has since been determined that rather than inheriting physical alterations, SCP-4966 is able to access the memories of a deceased human by consuming them. In addition, SCP-4966 gains the ability to speak in a high pitch, although its sentence complexity is comparable to that of a young child. Speech is lost upon regurgitation, but the memories of a consumed individual are retained.

Regurgitated Matter: Shattered bone and liquified organic matter.

Following this discovery, a raid on Site-17 was conducted by operatives of GoI-003 (“Chaos Insurgency”) where operatives attempted to gain access to SCP-4966’s chamber among other anomalous objects. Once the raid was repelled, a damaged Insurgency document was discovered among the corpses that gave detailed information regarding several anomalous objects, including SCP-4966. SCP-4966 was provided with the corpses of several GoI-003 members in the hopes of discovering how this information was acquired. A transcript of the interview conducted with SCP-4966 has been provided below.

Interviewed: SCP-4966

Interviewer: Dr. Randall Bannock

Additional Information: Due to a lack of relevant information, 2 hours and 14 minutes of the interview have been excluded. For a full transcript of the interview, see Document-4966-IV.

<BEGIN LOG>

Dr. Bannock: SCP-4966, can we please get back to the subject at hand.

SCP-4966: I want a munchy.

Dr. Bannock: You’ve already been given seven biscuits. You’ll get some after we’ve finished the interview.

SCP-4966: No, I want a munchy now.

Dr. Bannock: (Holding his head in his hands) SCP-4966, this would go much smoother if you simply cooperated.

SCP-4966: I want a better bed too. The one you guys have is lumpy. Make a bed out of munchies so I can eat it when I get hungry.

Dr. Bannock: SCP-4966, if you answer the question, I’ll give you another biscuit.

SCP-4966: (Pauses) If I get the good munchies this time.

Dr. Bannock: How did the Insurgency know where you were?

SCP-4966: The red shooty people? They found the room with my name on it.

Dr. Bannock: (Sigh) How did they know that was your item number?

SCP-4966: I was in the room, so the room had my name. They made lots of banging on the door and noisy noises. I was sleeping but it was too loud and the bed was lumpy.

Dr. Bannock: Your new bed is coming soon. Ho-

SCP-4966: How soon?

Dr. Bannock: Tomorrow. How did they know where the building was?

SCP-4966: Munchy.

(SCP-4966 is given a biscuit. The biscuit is consumed by SCP-4966 without chewing. No matter is regurgitated.)

SCP-4966: The pat people who visit me. They tell the red people stuff through the head parts.

Dr. Bannock: (Pauses) The head p- never mind. Can you be more specific? Who are the pat people?

SCP-4966: Um, lots of people give me pats. The white coat woman who gives me the toys is nice, I like her. She gave me the ball with the bell in it and it makes a ringy noise. The orange person that gives me lots of pats, but its face keeps being different between pat times. It gives me pats though so it’s a good orange. Um, you give me munchies and smell like a cake and that’s a good munchy. Also, you said you were gonna get me a good bed, bu-

Dr. Bannock: Which one of the pat people told the red people about you?

SCP-4966: Munchy

Dr. Bannock: I’ll give you a biscuit if you tell me.

SCP-4966: But I want munchy now.

Dr. Bannock: If you tell me now, I’ll give you two biscuits.

SCP-4966: Um… the orange person sometimes. They use the head parts so you don’t get distracted from doing scribbles on the board you have like you’re doing right now. That looks real hard.

Dr. Bannock: What do you mean by the head parts? Do you know anything about that?

SCP-4966: Munchy.

(SCP-4966 is given two biscuits.)

SCP-4966: I think they use their head squishies? Like the one in the red guy I munched, and the one in the spiky stripey, but that one wasn’t too good.

Dr. Bannock: Do you mean their brains?

(SCP-4966 nods.)

SCP-4966: Yea, they used the head squishies to talk.

Dr. Bannock: Ok, what did they use in their brains to talk?

SCP-4966: Um, I don’t know about squishy parts. I think the big part that looks like a watermelon is used to talk. I’m not an organ psychic.

Dr. Bannock: Let’s put it this way. Do you remember the, um, “orange person” that you ate?

(SCP-4966 nods.)

Dr. Bannock: What about their brain was different from the red people’s brains?

SCP-4966: Um… the orange person was colder and was kinda too mushy. The red people had lots more stuff about shooty guns, but I don’t like to hurt people so I say no thank you, mister. The orange person had a lot more about like being stuck in a room, and I don’t think they ever got to taste the crispy crunch of a munchy which is sad.

Dr. Bannock: Yes, that’s quite sad. Was there anything in the red people’s brain about how they talked to the orange person?

SCP-4966: I don’t think they could talk to the orange person because I already ate them.

Dr. Bannock: No, the ones that would pet you.

SCP-4966: (Pauses) Um, one second. I’m gonna do a real big think.

Dr. Bannock: Take your time.

(SCP-4966 sat in silence for several minutes, occasionally making confused vocalizations.)

SCP-4966: I think I found something from the red people, but it’s a bit scrambly and they use some big words I don’t know.

Dr. Bannock: Just do the best you can.

SCP-4966: I think they’re hungry and they want to get some snacks for their sleepover.

Dr. Bannock: I’m sorry?

SCP-4966: They keep saying words about sonic chips, but they aren’t eating any chips and I’m confused… wait I think the orange people had the sonic chips already. Maybe they forgot them at the store ‘cause they’re saying stuff about not noticing the sonic chips. I want munchy sonic chips like the orange person gets.

Dr. Bannock: Can you tell me which orange people can talk with the outside people?

SCP-4966: … Can I have sonic chips for munchies?

<END LOG>

After some difficulties, SCP-4966 lists the identification numbers of fourteen D-Class personnel, with several having known affiliations with GoI-003. Autopsies of these individuals have discovered a small device implanted within the cerebellum capable of psionic transmissions. The transmitters possess mild antimemetic properties, making their emitted transmissions be perceived as mundane and unremarkable. For its role in discovering the informants, SCP-4966 was provided a bag of Tostitos brand tortilla chips.

===

[The voice of Dr. Randall Bannock was provided by @iridethedirt​.] [The voice of SCP-4966 was provided by @lapis-liberalis.]

===

[This episode was requested by Patreon patron Andrew M. To join him in his support of the show, and to gain access to a number of patron-exclusive benefits, visit www.patreon.com/thescpfoundationdatabase.]

[Questions or comments? Email us at SCPDataPodcast@gmail.com]

[pmy95]

solo 003. — secret sibling audition

summary: miyeon ditching her preplanned answers last second and being pretty transparent with her answers. 

word count: 668 w/o questions

trigger warning: food

mentions: Nearly every girl group with the additional name drop of a few female artists because miyeon is a multistan.

What are your concerns these days?

"I think I have a lot of concerns. It's a surprise how I haven't managed to get any grey hair yet. I'm constantly worrying about my mom and how she's doing, my friends, Fuse and Fusion, my voice, Dasom, and things like that. They are things I hold very close to my heart."

Which (same-sex) idols do you look up to or want to get to know better?

This was the most natural question for Miyeon to answer. It was something that she spoke about often. "It's pretty well known that I love a lot of my seniors since most of them debuted while I was a trainee and were my inspiration to keep following my dreams." Miyeon paused, trying to pick out a few names. "There are so many talented people in the industry, and if I had the chance, I'd get to know them all better. To pick a few, I would like to get to know Artemisia from Lipstick better. She's cool. Also, I would like to know the soloists Miro and Byul, Youngjoo and Dita from Silhouette, Selene and Jynx from Aria, anyone from Bee, and the rest of Lipstick." It wasn't her full list of people she wanted to get to know, but she felt she was rambling, so she started to wrap up her thoughts. "Oh! And there are juniors I look up to as well. Like Mia over at BC and the girls from Wish and Lucid. The girls in Femme Fatale and Element are good as well." She nervously laughed, realizing she practically named every possible group she could've. "a lot of people are inspirational, you know?" Her smile softened as she moved onto the next question, remembering the lost friendships she had due to the conflicts being an idol brought her.

Do idol schedules make it hard for you to meet up with friends and talk? If yes, do you feel that is hard on you? If no, how do you manage to make time?

Miyeon still felt the effects of the idol lifestyle impeding on her personal life for someone who tended to be cooped up at home. She made a lot of friends, but the thing about being idols is the conflicting schedules and wavering energy playing a factor in the friendships. "Definitely yes. It makes it hard to meet up, which is also hard for me. The people I surround myself with are my support system, and I really appreciate them being by my side. I might go crazy if I'm away from them for too long, so I send texts or call them weekly if we are unable to meet up. Even if we aren't able to see each other face to face often, just being able to communicate back and forth is enough for me." It took years for her to accept the little things that she could have compared to what she should be getting. She should be able to see her friends more often, but at least she can hear from them regularly.

food tw- If you could create your ideal menu for a meal with a friend, what would it include?

Miyeon grimaced when she first read the question. As transparent as she wanted to be while answering the questions, this was one that she had to lie her way through. If she had it her way, Miyeon would ignore the issue, but she can't avoid everything that gave her a problem. "I tend to heavily buy things in favor of what my friends like, so it's circumstantial depending on the person. I eat anything honestly, so I don't mind eating whatever. I like having options, so on my behalf, there might be tteokbokki, jjajangmyeon, or some of my favorites tangsuyuk and bulgogi. For such a small person, I eat a lot." She finished off with a smile. That whole statement was a lie laced with the truth. There was no need for her to explain further, so she shrugged it off.

“Hello, I’m Park Miyeon, your new sibling. I can’t wait to meet you and get to know who you are. I think that I’m pretty easy to get along with, so I believe this could be the start of an amazing friendship. All I need is a little bit of attention and care, and in return I’ll do my best to be the best. I’m really excited!”

[intofurther]

𝐐⠀:⠀comb .   comb  fingers  through  my  muse’s  hair .

the  further—  a  place  completely  devoid  of  humanity .   a  hungry  place .   syphoning  what  he  has  finally  come  to  accept  is  his  soul,  and  every  step  across  the  plane  cost  a  toll .   gradually,  josh’s  tether  to  the  physical  world  was  rendered  into  nothing  more  than  a  one - way  window .   AND  IN  THE  FURTHER,  NO  ONE  CAN  HEAR  YOU  SCREAM . behind  the  closed  bedroom  door,  josh  can  safely  relinquish  the  facade;   the  sudden  mundanity  overwhelming .   staring  into  the  bathroom  mirror  for  one  second  too  long  while  brushing  his  teeth;  even  foreign  is  the  comfort  of  his  own  mattress,  pulling  back  the  covers  to  slide  into  bed .   mimicking  the  motions,  but  ever - distant .   apprehension  stalls,  indefinitely  vacant,  if  not  for  the  guide  who  pulls  him  close .   gently  brought  to  lay  against  her,  lulled  deeper  with  each  careful  scrape  drawn  up  from  the  back  of  his  neck .   bringing  his  arm  over—  hand  now  clutched  at  her  side  —legs  curled  to  intertwine  theirs  together,  utterly  melted  into  her .   desperately,  he  thinks,  please,  don’t  let  me  fall  asleep  tonight .

⠀──⠀𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐢  𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭  ,  @wasworthy .

[draconivn]

C.003 | Daughter of the Takeda

Disclaimer: I don’t own Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY or its characters. Please note that this will not follow all of Saizo’s route, and the MC is an OC of mine.

Summary: You wanted to do more than just be in the kitchen like any woman would’ve known how to do. You want to explore. You want to become so much more. But when you live in a world of war, what you decide to do in your past ends up following you to your future, even though the battlefield is no place for a woman. Will you find love or will you only find blood? Saizo x OC MC

Masterpost: LINK

CHAPTER 3: Child of War

Trigger Warning: Blood, Death, Depression

My father was hesitant as he looked at me, his gaze following between Nagamasa and to myself as I looked at him. It was etched in stone, that my hands now had blood on them, whether I liked it or not, and I couldn’t turn back from it. I did it to save my father, and the Takeda army. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, or upset that I did it. I couldn’t tell if he was scared of me, but with trembling legs, he approached me and took me into his arms. “I-I was scared that I lost you…”

"I'm okay, Papa. It's not my blood, see?" I pulled back to show him my body and make sure there weren’t any wounds. “Now we can go home, Papa.”

"I'm so happy you're alive. I–"

Blood splattered over my smiling lips, but the happiness drained from my body as I watched my father fall sideways into the muddy grass. The sight made everything go silent, knocking out the commotion that followed. I barely noticed that Lord Shingen cradled me in his arms, until I realized I was getting further away from my father's body and I could only scream.

“Papa!”

This was never supposed to happen.

This is why I came! So he wouldn't have to die! Not because of me!

I could barely remember what happened after that. The journey home, the burial... Lord Shingen personally met with my mother to deliver the news and myself, even though only one of us made it home. I was like a body without a soul. The words of how I was a remarkable warrior at my age, skilled and the praises he sang for my father felt like nothing to me.

My champion. My family's hero.

...was gone.

I don't think my mother could ever look at me after that. I had taken away her husband before anything else, that I had been the one to come home by myself instead of with him as I had promised myself I would. She had to raise my little brother and I while running the restaurant by herself. I stayed in the kitchen most of the time, where she wouldn't have to look at me in the face and I wouldn't be able to crack under the pressure that my father served these customers with a smile. 

Mom always kicked me out when things got slow as if to say it was for me to take a break, but it happened only once in a while and chances were it was the mistakes I made in cooking that day.

I busied myself with cleaning up and throwing out the garbage, but every time I went out, I could remember my father being here, practicing for the battle.

"Man, was it just me or was the food just terrible today?"

"I don't think you're wrong there. My food was a bit too salty, but I didn't have the heart to tell her!"

"Her husband's death must've hit them really hard. At this rate, they won't be standing much longer."

After they had walked out of sight, I stepped out onto the street and looked at the restaurant. I was ruining it… I ruined what my father worked so hard to build. My heart felt heavy with sadness, and my feet took me away from there without a second thought. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my surroundings became more populated with trees and bushes, ignoring the scratches I was getting from the twigs as I ran. Even as Rai ran in the distance alongside me, I kept running until she cut across to catch me, my arms wrapping around her as she sat to let me cry into her fur until I could cry no more. 

After the funeral, I lost everything that made sense. My mother had to put up with me, and the only thing I could really do is try to make up for what I did to make her lose such an important person in our lives.

With quiet thanks to Rai for being with me as I cried, I returned to the restaurant and approached my mother with a soft voice, “Here, mom, let me do it.”

It was the first time I had spoken to her in a long time, but she eventually allowed me back in the kitchen. That night, no mistakes were made, and eventually, I started serving again. When I had free time, I trained in secret once again like I once did. Sasuke had come a few times to get a rise out of me so that I would learn much of what I hoped to be, so that I could not let my father's death be in vain, but I don’t think I could kill someone after that. 

But when I was 17, I could not kill the man who burglarized our home and instead, allowed him to become captive to the townspeople who passed their own judgment on him.

That was the day that I decided I was done. I was tired of killing and fighting. If I killed again, I would end up losing someone precious to me once again. It was that thought that made me push away all concerns of fighting on the battlefield, and made me fight for the restaurant instead, but the haunting nightmares of my father’s death as a result of my mistakes still haunted me on occasion.

My visits to Rai had diminished, though she had entrusted to me the only cub that survived of her latest litter, Sen. Sen stayed by my side when her mother passed away, looming in the shadows as she watched over me. She followed me everywhere I went, even as I went to a samurai castle when I turned 20, but I had told her to stay away from me. I know Rai told her the story of what happened that day. The day my father died and I lost that part of me. But I couldn’t run with the pack in the woods anymore. It was my mistakes that drove people to the doorsteps of Hell.

Instead, I kept my smile and smiled on as if nothing was wrong.

I smiled even though I had taken my brother’s place as a poison taster, my chest bound and dressed like a man. We had insulted the magistrate of the town after he tried to convince me to marry him, no matter how many times I refused. I could never think of love, or marriage when it meant marrying him.

Somehow, I didn’t end up too far. It was Tsutsujigasaki Castle, where I was appointed to be Lord Shingen’s poison taster. It had been so long that I didn't think he remembered me, even as I revealed to the clan my identity and the reason I had deceived all. Lord Shingen welcomed me with open arms and said he would have liked to accept me as his own daughter, especially since I had previously told him that I didn't have a father since he died in war when I was young.

Lord Yukimura stumbled quite a bit after reality hit him, but I remember a specific shinobi that had been wary of me from the very beginning.

I didn’t see Saizo that often since he was always at Ueda with Lord Yukimura, but in the days that they were there for meetings with Lord Shingen, I found him between breaks and lazy afternoons sleeping with one arm propped up on the veranda, up on the roof or in a tree somewhere. 

He had threatened me in the beginning, as if I was there to get Lord Yukimura, but I assured him I wasn’t.

My only way of gaining his trust was the offer of dango, since I couldn't pay him with any money. The conversations we had seemed one-sided but he seemed to have strong perceiving eyes either way. There were times that I acted like I didn't know how to do anything, like how to climb a tree or how to stay balanced on the rooftop. Probably because I knew that purposely dying wouldn't send me to my father, and I was willing to let fate do its work.

But each time, Saizo was right there to catch me.

"And just what were we trying to do?"

I couldn't help but wonder if he knew, because all shinobis just seemed to just... know. But I still fed him the obvious answer as I had been calling him moments before I found him on the rooftop. "S-Saizo!" Those crimson eyes of his captivated me as he held me up steady on the rooftop. I could hear my heartbeat thudding loudly in my ears, biting my lower lip before I looked away to try to remember the reason I came up on the roof. "L-Lord Yukimura was looking for you!"

That exasperated look was amusing each time, especially as we could hear Lord Yukimura calling out for him and his voice growing louder as he got closer to our location.

"That'll be ten skewers of dango, Little Lady."

My eyes widened. Ten? "F-For what!"

"For saving you."

I pouted and huffed. "Eight."

"...Nine."

"Seven."

"Eight."

I tried to reason how far this little game would go on until he had to leave. "Six."

He sighed. "Stubborn, are we?" He didn't respond to my barter, instead letting me go so he could hop down to land in front of Lord Yukimura.

Soon, I followed in my descent down the ladder to head to the kitchen, apologizing to the maids for being late, all while my heart continued to thud in anticipation of making Saizo’s dango.

What is this feeling…?

[yoonia]

SPOILER ALERT: 1. Can you explain as an author what was the reason it’s name is Carousel with all the spoilers?(since I read everything but can’t understand why but you mentioned everything there is like carousel but how come?? 2. Can you explain his love for her? Why her? Because she is childhood friend? What more? With spoilers and background information I’m really curiouss thank you!!!!

I think I might be able to answer this properly without spoiling the plot too much for those who haven’t read the story by talking about it on my fic podcast, so I’m saving these questions until then.

But to put it lightly, if you have been following the story from the beginning to end, you’ll see that the events that we’ve been witnessing throughout the series were all stemmed from the past. Now, take a look at this carousel: 

Or, just take a look at the lyrics from Melanie Martinez’s Carousel which says: 

Round and round like a horse on a carousel, we go

You can see how the carousel keeps going round and round as if the horse are chasing each other. Everything that Grandpa Min has done in the past, all the things he had done by sacrificing his own son (Yoongi’s Dad) and y/n’s parents in the past, has been coming back to haunt them, except that it’s Yoongi and his wife’s turn to face the outcome and only they know how to stop it.

Even Yoongi’s Dad said it himself in Chapter 10: 

I’m not sure what you meant by asking why yoongi loves y/n, but the hints have been placed in numerous places on how and when he had started being attracted to her. Please remember that even at the beginning of their marriage, neither of them could trust each other (which then further explains the title itself, because they kept chasing each other with suspicions and doubt until they revealed everything), so it’s not like he actually married her for love at first. He was only marrying her for the sake of keeping an eye on her to be able to decide whether he should continue doubting her or if he was making the right decision to protect her. 

But if you go back to chapter 16, you might be able to caught on that he did subtly show her what she meant for him without saying it bluntly and his brother clued in about it when they met as well, and also their friendship in the past, as portrayed on drabble #003: bittersweet cupcake, has always been ‘special’ for both of them.

I’ll talk about these more on my podcast along with the other intricate questions if you’re curious for more :) 

[jordyngellerxo]

— · ❝「 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞 . 」|| PARA 003

𝗪𝗛𝗢: 𝗝𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗬𝗡 𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗝𝗔𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦

@jaggerbrooks, @jordyngellerxo

JORDYN

right after pushing herself up on the power box that she told jagger to pick her up from, she leaned forward and pulled the heels off of her feet. a grimace replaced the smile she'd had walking outside reading over their texts from the last few days as her eyes assessed the damaged she'd done to herself going out in new stilettos. there was no doubt that tomorrow she'd regret her decision to go out tonight, in fact, part of her already did. her mind was already making up scenarios on how this car ride back to her house was going to go. knowing jagger, she was in for a stern discourse about going out by herself. the idea made her fidget uneasily as she waited. detecting headlights pull up, jordyn released the heels on to the gravel, stepping down delicately and sliding back into her shoes and quickly pulling down the black fabric of her dress clinging to her thighs that had risen slightly from her sitting down. running a hand through her long dark locks she waited to be sure it was him before walking forward and opening the door. "hey, thanks for coming to get me." jordyn hummed leaning over to let her lips meet his cheek hastily.

JAGGER

getting a text from jordyn never failed to put a smile on his face, but this time he couldn't help but be concerned. it was late and she was drinking at a bar alone. he didn't mind the time or that she was at a bar, he cared that she was by herself. if anything were to happen to her, jagger wouldn't know what to do. kinsley was in a deep sleep, making it a lot easier to take her from the bed to her car seat. as he pulled up to the bar, he easily found jordyn. he'd be lying if he said it was her eyes that initially caught his attention that night. "you're welcome" he wasn't whispering but his voice was a little lower than usual so he wouldn't wake kinsley up. "so tell me again why you felt the need to go out by yourself" what he really meant to say was he was glad she was okay. but he'd get to that eventually. as soon as jordyn was in, he pulled away from the bar and drove towards the house.

JORDYN

their eyes only met momentarily as she got in and buckled her seat belt but that was all it took to get her heart skipping beats. whiskey and composure didn't belong in the same sentence, and she’d had a few tonight. immersing herself into the seat jordyn let her head rest against the leather interior behind her, digging in the purse on her lap for the bottle of water she'd need nursing on since her last drink. her mouth ran dry when he asked his question, "i told you, it was karaoke night, plus they had the draft for this season on tv. it sounded like a good time until i realized i was gonna have to drive home." she whispered as she turned to look at kinsley asleep in the backseat, fast asleep. their daughter was the absolute definition of perfection. the perfect combination of the two of them, her bone structure, his nose, her eyes, with all topped with jagger's personality, and jordyn's free spirit. a hopeless smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she leaned her head against jagger's shoulder, "we did good with that one." jordyn mumbled as her fingers worked to twist the cap from the bottle of water so she could take a drink before tossing the sealed bottle back into her purse."

JAGGER

having jordyn around in a more intimate manner definitely had jagger picking up on the little things he missed about her. sure he missed her a whole, and what they had but he also missed seeing her in the passenger seat of his cars. he swore he could stare at her side profile all day. even if it was just that moment, he had his little family back. kinsley in the backseat, jordyn by his side, right where she was supposed to be. when she leaned against him, without thinking, he kissed the top of her head. "yeah we did" he looked at the rearview mirror to admire their child. there would be no kinsley without jordyn and he would be forever grateful for that. "but hey" he split his gaze between the road and jordyn "i don't care what night it is, you can't just go to a bar by yourself. that's dangerous. i don't think i have to explain why it is and what you're jeopardizing-" he took her hand in his and stopped himself from lecturing her further "but i'm glad you're okay. did you have fun?" he smiled, "you look beautiful"

JORDYN

even if she'd gone out with the intentions of only having a beer or two, a part of her was relieved that jagger had only been a text away. getting to see kinsley when it wasn't her week charged empty parts of her heart that made her physically ache when they were apart. then there was getting to see him, getting late night texts to come over, to fall asleep in his arms and being able to wake up, roll over on her side and see him resting beside her still didn't feel real. it felt like a dream, something too good to be true. she was finally getting to feel like herself for the first time in over a year. she'd been so squandered in thought that his voice snapping her back into reality caused her to sit upright. and there it was, she knew there wasn't going to be any getting out of going out without someone accompanying her and him having to pick her up without some sort of firm talking to. she'd tried her toughest to keep a straight face, but the second his hand grabbed hers, she interlocked their fingers and had to force herself to maintain all sense of seriousness on her features. "it was alright, i mean it would’ve been better with you there. and i was fine, i promise you... but i know." every inch of her body was pleading to be engulfed by his very essence, to just go back to his house and make their way upstairs so that they could lay in bed and make everything else besides them and their precious baby could fade away. "can i stay with you tonight? i mean i'm gonna have to borrow clothes but i don't feel like sleeping by myself tonight."

JAGGER

the past few nights had been like nothing changed. if he could have one wish in that moment, it would of been to turn the car into their little bubble. a bubble where nothing could come in and sever the ties they were building up, one late-night cuddle at a time. all he wanted was to fall asleep next to jordyn for the rest of his life. so of course when she asked him, the answer was yes. he laughed a little "you thought i was dropping you off?" jagger made his answer light and playful. however, the slight joke was far from what he really wanted to say. what stayed on the tip of his tongue was 'you never have to sleep alone again, if you want', but he couldn't bring himself to say it. not until he knew how serious she was about everything she said to him the other night. jagger was aware that they both were afraid of losing each other. believe him, he of all people understood. but at one point this separation was what jordyn wanted, jagger never wanted it. above all else, he wanted to see jordyn happy, if he could make her happy again, then he was all in. he just needed a little more time to be sure. all of this just happened so fast and seemed a little too good to be true. you couldn't blame him for waiting for the other shoe to drop. "you're stuck with us. plus i think my clothes look better on you than me anyway" he smiled. he pulled into their community and in his driveway, parking in the garage. he grabbed kinsley from the backseat. she stirred a little but remained sleeping. instead of placing her back in his bed, he put her down in her room. jagger returned to his own and headed to the bathroom, "you remember where everything is right? just pick out whatever"

JORDYN

"i mean i didn't want to just assume that you wanted me to stay the night." jordyn confessed, biting down on her bottom lip as the sound of his melodious laugh filled the car. it was like music to her ears, it made her heart feel like it was going to burst - which she'd happily accept if that was going to be the last sound she heard. she sat quietly, admiring him in all his glory through the corner of her eye for the remainder of the short ride back to his house. "i think i can make that work... and your clothes most definitely look better on me, who are you kidding?" he'd gotten all of her, his smile stole her heart, his laugh stole the air from her lungs, the look in his eye when he looked at her that could bring her to her knees, even their bantering caused a fire in her veins that she hadn't felt with anyone but jagger. jordyn, who hated allowing people to have any sort of control over her, belonged to him. him and their family was all she needed in life. there was no doubt in her mind. she followed behind the father-daughter duo, taking as many mental pictures as she could before she turned to lock the door behind them. slowly but surely jordyn made her way up his stairs and into his bedroom, chuckling at his question. how many times had she put away his laundry in her lifetime? she'd never forgotten. it probably was impossible for her to ever forget. "i'm sure i'll remember somehow." she answered turning to his closet to grab one of his larger t-shirts. swirling around so her back faced the direction he'd wandered off to jordyn gracefully slipped out of her heels and stripped from the dress she'd been wearing before promptly tugging his shirt over her head and pulled her locks out from the inside of the cotton material so that it pooled by the small of her back. she made a mental note to pick that up tomorrow before making her way over to the bed, she was too tired to worry about it now. without wasting another second, the brunette made her way to his mattress falling against the comfort of pillows and a welcoming blanket as she waited for the work of art himself to reappear.

JAGGER

out of all the nights that jordyn slept over, this would be the first that kinsley was not in the bed with them. his stood in front of his bathroom mirror, like he was back in high school getting butterflies for his first date. his nerves buzzed excitedly at the thought of jumping into bed with the girl of his dreams. his desires were simple that night. to sleep with jordyn against his chest. he stripped down to just his briefs and gave himself a quick silent pep talk before reappearing in the doorway. just seeing her lying there, knowing it was just them had him grinning from ear to ear. the amount of excitement he felt was bordering embarrassment. he turned the bathroom lights off and literally jumped into the bed, almost landing on top of her. he used his hands to feel around for her waist and when he got it, he started tickling her "promise me you won't do that again" he effortlessly pulled her into his chest, holding her still now. "or i'm making you sleep on the couch" he teased her. jagger had absolutely no intention of letting jordyn sleep anywhere except in his arms. falling asleep to the smell of jordyn's perfume, to the warmth of her skin, knowing she was home and safe, had his mind and soul at ease. second only to waking up next to her and seeing her and kinsley home with him. the more time jordyn spent over there, the more jagger realized he definitely could get used to this again. he could the conflict in his mind slowly but surely losing it's grasp on him. though he had to admit, they were on upwards slope. their highs were never the problem, it was their lows that concerned him. did they change enough to get past those? were they ready for their relationship now? had they matured enough this past year to handle the all encompassing love they share? jagger wasn't fully convinced, but he was more than willing to find out.

JORDYN

she'd only caught a fleeting glimpse of jagger rounding the corner from the bathroom to the bedroom before he'd switched the lights off but that flash of the blue-eyed boy who’d stolen her heart damn near provoked her jaw to drop. the little voice in her head did a cartwheel and screamed 'touch down!' he was still as breathtaking as she retained in her memory. looking up at the ceiling the petite brunette wordlessly thanked the god who'd create such a man, only seconds after to feel his body hit the mattress snapping her from her thoughts. without giving it a second thought she fumbled around for the welcoming sensation of his broad shoulders, finding them just as his fingers found the spot on her ribs that caused her to drop her hands to his as her laughter encompassed the room, "no, no you win! i promise!" she ducked her face in the crevasse of where his shoulder blade met his neck to muffle her laugh so that they wouldn’t wake the baby, "no the couch is cold... and you’re not cold." she murmured against his skin. once she'd finished snickering and caught his hands in hers, forcing them down to the bed to keep him from attacking her sides anymore. staying there as still as she possibly could, he washed over her like the waves crashing onto the shore. every fight they'd had, every screaming match, every hateful word dulled in correspondence to the sensation she had in that moment. the only word that came close to describing it was blessed. every touch, every feeling of his breath against her skin felt like a sacrament, a rite of passage. jagger had never felt like a transgression, in fact, he felt like he’d created just for her. they’d been fated from the beginning. it frightened her that only he could drive her wild in all the ways that he did. a year without him only crystallized the truth, that she'd fight any conflict or any war just to have moments like this where she got to be the one in awe of him, the one that got to feel him wash over her, leaving her speechless. all of his imperfections, all of his perfections, the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful. as long as he was hers, she'd willingly be his mess and give her all of herself in return. freeing his hands, she looked at him in her freshly adjusted eyes admiring his characteristics, "i love you, jag." the words blundered from her lips before her brain could catch up but she didn't bother to regret it, it was true. she was his, head to toe, madly, truly, deeply.

[lgcmanager]

TRAINEE MISSION 003

SCHEDULE TYPE: CAREER RESTRICTIONS: Cannot be paired with another CAREER schedule type

monday, APRIL 6, around 3pm when trainees from all groups are present at the company, KIM HYUNCHEOL gathers a lot of the trainees in the company’s biggest available room. there are two other people with him, neither of which are known by the trainees, as well as a camera crew. “hello everyone. before i get started, i guess i should address the elephant in the room, right? you are not being filmed right now. at least, not yet. now, take a good look at the trainees around you. do you notice any common thread?” HYUNCHEOL watches them look at each other curiously, letting the mystery last before he speaks again. “that’s right. none of you have officially moved to other agencies yet, and none of you will be taking part in the project origin story as of this spring. but if you thought you would be getting, dare i say, leftovers this trimester… you could not be more wrong.”

with the presence of the cameras, it’s not hard for the trainees to believe him, even though they still have no idea what they’re doing here. “i am very pleased to announce you that we have received a very special offer from NETFLIX to release a netflix original FOUR-EPISODE DOCUMENTARY. and the featured stars will be you guys! our legacy entertainment trainees who are still taking part in our regular training schedule. and without further ado, let me introduce you to our special guests, LEE GWANGSIK and NAM SOLBIN who will be producing this exclusive series and will tell you more about it. i know you must all be very excited right now, but please do wait until the very end until you ask questions, should there be any.”

once LEE GWANGSIK and NAM SOLBIN are finished giving trainees all the details, they present each member of the filming crew present that day. “we do hope we will all work well together on portraying the real life of a legacy trainee to the viewers all over the world. we look forward to seeing you again, and now we will leave you with your head manager. goodbye, everyone.” NAM SOLBIN says and once the crew has all left the room, HYUNCHEOL casts a very stern look to the trainees. “yes, i know this is fun, and it’s also a great opportunity for exposure. but do not take this lightly and do not treat this as a joke. if you cause trouble, or if any appropriate word or gesture is caught on camera, it will get edited out immediately. should you embarrass us, we will not hesitate to cut you out from the documentary entirely.”

the information trainees were provided is as follows:

CONTENT

as stated previously, the documentary will follow the trainees in their every day schedule. it is meant to bring light to all aspects that come into play when you’re on the path to becoming a celebrity in the music and entertainment industry, but there will still be three “main” themes that will be the foundation of the documentary. of course, it’s not all that will be shown, as they will also show trainee go about their daily activities such a group lesson, workshops, lunch breaks, etc. 

the first theme will focus more particularly on first and second year trainees, those who signed up just months or a year ago and are still navigating through the demanding schedules and expectations that are asked of trainees. they’re also a little lesser known, sometimes feeling like they’re lagging behind older trainees who have trained for years and have a lot more experience. the documentary will show the hardships that come with first joining a company and invite the trainees to share their thoughts and feelings, as well as their hopes and dreams. 

to show the opposite end of the spectrum, the second theme will showcase the trainees who are in their third year and up. because just like there are challenges to being a new trainees, it can also be very difficult the more it goes on. expectations get higher, and it’s disappointment after disappointment when you see others do well and feel left behind, such as those who joined future dreams and have promoted on music shows. they will be able to share their thoughts, their doubts, and talk about the hard work that goes into preparing for a debut that seems to never come around. 

the third theme will specifically focus on trainees who are also students in high school and university. it’s widely known that a lot of trainees end up dropping out of their studies to focus on training, and even if legacy tries to accommodate them as much as possible, it comes with a lot of sacrifices and hardships. a camera crew will follow the student trainees on certain days as they go to school and talk about the challenges they face.

please note that the filming crew will not be present at the company at all times, however, trainees who agree to take part in the documentary will not always know in advance when cameras will be around, so they should be in a good behavior on most days to avoid being caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. however, if a crew is to follow a trainee outside of the company walls, they would be notified prior (and so would their school).

INTERVIEW DETAILS

trainees will be interviewed at random times throughout the filming period, and asked a variety of questions, such as their reaction to taking part in this special documentary, why they became a trainee, what kind of future do they imagine for themselves, who they admire, what’s the best/hardest thing about being a trainee, if they fear they won’t be able to debut, if they feel in competition with other trainees, how they juggle their studies/part-time jobs with training. feel free to come up with your own questions, however not everything they’re asked would end up being shown!

they would usually proceed by alphabetical order and training groups if they need to interview a lot of people on the same day. senior trainees would go first and junior trainees last. but they could also be interviewed at random times and pulled out of their regular training to answer a few questions. a lot of these mini-interviews could also happen more the closer it is to the end once a lot of the editing will be happening, so certain trainees could provide context for some of the clips selected. filming will be ongoing from APRIL 7 to JUNE 26.

RELEASE

trainees have not yet been told a definite release date, however they know that the documentary will be released sometime in the second half of 2020. it will be available WORLDWIDE, exclusively on the NETFLIX platform. the four episodes will each last 75 MINUTES. 

REQUIREMENTS

make sure to use the hashtag lgc:traineemission for everything related to this event. you have until JULY 3 to complete the following requirements 

MAIN THEME SOLO: write a 300+ words solo about a moment captured on camera in which one of the main three themes mentioned above (newer trainees, older trainees, student trainees) is exploited.  the context around it can be virtually anything, such as your newer trainee struggling with one of the lessons and getting criticized while an older trainee is being praised or used as an example, or a student trainee studying at school for an upcoming exam while also being worried about training. please specify in your submission which of the three themes you chose to write about. this will reward you with +10 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE and +6 NOTORIETY.

SIGNIFICANT MOMENT: write a 300+ words solo or a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines) thread with a partner about a significant moment that would be captured on camera at any time during the filming period for +8 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE and +6 NOTORIETY

INTERVIEW: write a 250+ words solo about your muse answering questions during an interview. examples were suggested above, so make sure to get inspiration from there or come up with your own ideas, as long as they are related to various aspects of the trainee life. be creative! this will reward you with +5 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE and +6 NOTORIETY

to validate your skill points and collect your notoriety points, please submit the following form ONCE on the points blog before JULY 4, 11:59 EDT.

TITLE: MUSE NAME ∙ TRAINEE MISSION 003

- MAIN THEME SOLO: +10 ( skill points distribution ), +6 notoriety  [ LINK ]

- SIGNIFICANT MOMENT THREAD/SOLO: +8 ( skill points distribution ), +6 notoriety [ LINK ]

- INTERVIEW: +5 ( skill points distribution ), +6 notoriety  [ LINK ]

[alias-b]

I stan 003 and Camille. They're so engaging in the way they interact and I want more! 003 showing herself as we go has me thrilled. It feels like she's stronger each time using Cam? The powerful connection between them is being built so gradual, it's got me on edge. Camille noticing how unafraid of 003 she is=intriguing+rattling. I get your Silent Hill feels with a pinch of It and Elm Street. Your refs slaughter. The way you tied in the backstory of the Upside Down and MF thus far is fantastic!

GAH. Okie. Okie. Yes and Thank You!!!!!

Three is just a little different every time she manifests :))) I do love writing her, it’s this switch between “is she going to help or hurt in this scene?” “Does she even know the difference herself?” “Are the monster in the upside down evil or just feeding on the evil humans create?” Meta. Camille recognizes they’re on equal footing in a way, mystery aside. Each party has answers, those pieces just haven't come together which was something I loved about ST. These two see this shared feral woman rage in each other tbh also. Always a bonding thing. Three isn’t just a shadow anymore, I see her as the center line tightrope all the characters are walking along. Acrobats and fleas alike. ;)

But, I digress, maybe she just likes Camille cause she’s a Pretty Girl. Maybe the Harper girl has the existence/abilities she covets tragedy aside. She’s plucking strings and ready for a symphony. Billy notes when she shows herself to him that she’s “culling song or death rattle come to witness the end.” There are a lot of ways she can go, but all roads point in Camille��s direction even still and tbh our girl is 100% reciprocating it despite the obvious danger. I’m thrilled to be the person building this bc the direction gets clearer the further I go. It’s a fun arc! Thank you for letting me ramble on, I need to stop myself! 🖤🖤🖤

[bonepranks-a]

* verses

aight so since i put most interactions into their own verses, i have like a million, and oftentimes certain interactions will sorta create new ones. so i’m going to attempt to list all the verses i have. i will specify if they’re with specific people. (i may use the word timeline instead, they are generally the same thing, but sans will always refer to it as a timeline whereas i will usually call it a verse.) also, as you know, i don’t tag my verses -- but it’s helpful to know.

this is well over 1500 words so i’m gonna just stick it under a cut. i listed the people who have specific verses in the tags so u can read it if you want??? i mean everyone is encouraged to read it but yKNOW. up to you guys <3

GENERIC VERSES

pre-undertale sans and papyrus grow up in hotland with gaster. sans works as his lab assistant/apprentice. gaster falls into the core, “dies”, the boys leave hotland and move to snowdin.

neutral/post-neutral in the flawed pacifist ending (aka the one that allows you to load from your last save and do the pacifist stuff), sans continues living in snowdin, life continues as normal until a reset happens. for all other neutral variants, see this post.

genocide for obvious reasons, stuff in this verse will only take place during the events of a genocide run, as sans dies. however, in a verse where this is not the first genocide run, certain events may change, including but not limited to an aborted genocide where frisk doesn’t come back after sans kills them, and life continues. this will look a lot like any other neutral run where papyrus is dead, but he’s more fucked up probably.

pacifist/post-pacifist the pacifist route goes as it does in canon. afterward, sans goes to the surface with everyone else. however, he makes frequent trips back underground, both to help other people move, and to visit those who decided to stay behind. 

abandoned pacifist/deltarune in a pacifist ending that occurs after many different routes and countless resets (many of which sans remembers), sans accepts the futility of seeking a real ending of any sort of happiness. he manages to find a way to leave his timeline. he does not believe that this is the end, and is afraid of what will happen if frisk resets again. he has never tried it before, and his method is purely theoretical, but he manages to take papyrus and escape the timeline before anything bad can happen. he leaves a seemingly peaceful and happy life on the surface, and ends up in the deltarune world. papyrus’ memories of their past life have somehow been erased (perhaps for the best), and sans is torn between relief that they seem to be safe now, and guilt for leaving everyone else behind without a word. he actually fakes his and papyrus’ deaths simply so that no one worries about them or tries to come looking. he’s not particularly happy, but he can’t find a way to go back either. he buys the grocery store and tries to find answers about why he ended up in this specific world that is so unlike the one he knows, and yet eerily familiar at the same time.

CHARACTER-SPECIFIC VERSES

vertebralheights 001 bo and sans meet as children when her father and gaster worked together. they hit it off, but after all the other skeletons leave hotland, she and sans lose contact. it’s only many years later that they reconnect quite by accident, and they don’t even recognize/remember each other until they find old notes and photos that jog their memories. they meet pre-undertale, and their relationship continues long into a positive neutral ending. as sans learns more about resets and their circumstances, he begins to do research, and bo helps him out. if this is a situation where alphys has disappeared, they move back to hotland and continue work there. eventually, pacifist happens or whatever, maybe they go to the surface, we haven’t really gotten that far.

vertebralheights 002 the origin is the same as in 001. however, it diverges into any ending where papyrus is dead. sans runs away to vertebral heights and stays with bo -- they come to the same conclusions about how they used to know each other. sans is determined to find a way to stop the resets - but only once papyrus is back alive. if this is also an ending where alphys is gone, they eventually go to the lab in this verse too.

vertebralheights 003 after bo’s parents die, she contacts sans and comes back to hotland. she stays with the bros and gaster up until gaster’s “death”, and when they do eventually part ways, they slowly lose touch but don’t forget about each other. they probably reconnect again post-pacifist when sans stumbles across VH.

cynicalborne 001 ( paired with mercy-heart 001 ) post-pacifist, sans and papyrus choose not to stay in the town the monsters have set up (though he and papyrus pay frequent visits), and move to nyc. sans buys a closed down bodega and runs it, living in the apartment above. sans also somewhat accidentally befriends a human named os. they somehow hit it off, and when he loses his job and apartment, papyrus invites him to stay with him and sans. as time goes on, sans and os completely fall in love. other than cryptic warnings from gaster that they should not be together and that sans needs to focus on finding a way to prevent further fresets, life is pretty good.

cynicalborne 002 sans and os still know each other - they’re even friends, but their lives are very separate. os is still working more or less as an arson for hire, and he attacks the monster town that’s popped up. sans finds out, and shit goes down. 

mercy-heart 001 post-pacifist, sans visits frisk frequently, though he does not live in the monster town on the surface. one day, chara manages to take control of frisk’s body and gives sans a cryptic warning about how this happiness won’t last. he laters finds out through them and through dream messages from gaster that the only way to prevent further resets is to take away the vessel the player is using -- aka destroy frisk beyond saving. make it so that they cannot reset or reload at all, by literally erasing them from existence. sans refuses to do this however, and tries to find a way to simply disconnect the player from frisk’s soul, or removing only the ability to save and reset.

mercy-heart 002 more or less the same, it’s post-pacifist, except sans does stay in the monster town and probably ends up getting together with toriel because his love for her knows no bounds. life is good, there’s no players interfering, they can just be a happy family, and sans can just help frisk cope with their own depression without worrying about everything else.

we-believe-in-you-crew 001 sans meets bonny when she arrives in snowdin -- due to his promise to toriel he decides not to hurt her. instead, he helps her as best he can, encouraging her to stay in snowdin with him and papyrus and not to venture too far away for fear she might be killed. they eventually catch feelings for each other, and while they both know it, they never do much about it. everything is very subtle with them - mainly because sans knows they’re living on borrowed time. when she eventually makes it to new home, sans mercy kills her in the judgement hall because he can’t stand the thought of her being killed by asgore. 

primaautomaworld / qvietstcrm 001 (these are just getting lumped together because they happen in the same verse.) sans and mettaton used to be childhood friends, back when alphys worked under gaster and mettaton visited frequently as a lil ghostie. he would often play with sans and papyrus, and he and sans even had lil crushes on each other, not that anything ever came of it. however, once mettaton became corporeal and moved on to becoming a star (and after gaster’s disappearance as well), they completely lost touch. it’s only much later that sans calls up mettaton and invites him to stop by snowdin. the reunion between all three of them is really really good, and mtt and sans start up the flirting hardcore until they finally do just get together. MEANWHILE IN PAPYRUS LAND, he starts going out with a siren from waterfall named storm. sans meets them one day during work, invites them back for dinner, storm and papyrus hit it off really well, and the rest is history. it’s really cute uwu  

fluersamour 001 sans and chara.... knew each other before she died. they would play together along with papyrus and asriel when gaster had meetings with asgore and brought the kiddos. they weren’t necessarily close friends, but they were pleasant. good companions. over the course of genocide routes, they’re constantly fighting and she’s killed sans multiple times. it’s a thing. but eventually, it stops. they reach a stalemate. they don’t want to kill each other anymore. and eventually, they start talking again. about the past. about her time in the void, and meeting gaster. it’s not exactly normal friendship but it’s.... something.

[iwannafuckyexiu]

A TEASE A DYA BRINGS YOU CLOSER TO YOUR DEATH  003

THE BLONDES ARE TAKING OVER THIS CHAPTER there's denki who can borderline be counted as blonde, katsuki who's pretty blonde, and the overly confident boy who's probably blonde too.

"AY AY AY WAIT FOR ME!!"

Y/N hares towards the blob of mustard and ketchup in the distance, tousled bangs recoiling along with each step. His arm extends forth as attempts to reach Denki's back.

Making out Y/N's voice from a gap, Denki increases his pace and treads faster to avoid being thought to be in league with the freak screeching at the back, lips just murmuring persistently, "God, I don't know who this guy is. I don't know who this guy is, I don't know w-tssss, you're so heavy!"

Arms slithered on Denki's neck and legs fastened around his waist like kinky tentacles, Y/N lodges on his back like chewed up gum as he lugs at Denki's ear and yells into it, "I thought we were best friends Denki?!"

Denki flinches at the strident volume and dodges his head from Y/N's claws, but before he even reacts and lashes the squid on his back off-

-the hardcore punk boy beside him makes his act first, he gawks at his friend with overly expanded anime eyes, "Kaminari you got a new best friend??!?! What about me, are you leaving me??" He gasps and clutches his chest in the Berkoff way, mouth agape as he points a trembling finger at Denki with his free hand.

"Of course not, you're my one and only," Denki purrs in a pompous fashion, pouting his bottom and fluttering his lashes at Kirishima - which gains him a punch on the shoulder from the latter and a brief but firm choke at the waist from Y/N.

"I'm getting goosebumps," Y/N shivers from Denki's 'sweet' talk and rests his on the stiff boy's shoulder in intimacy, "but KiriKami though."

Denki: "????"

"Your cp with Kirishima."

"Oh, Jesus take the wheel."

Now it's Kirishima's turn to be perplexed, he pivots to Denki with a puzzled frown tipping his lips downwards - which Denki receives and explains then, "Couple." Regaled by the sight of Kirishima's jaw slacking in sheer scepticism (this untainted boy's probably never even heard of yaoi or bl culture), he puts a hand on his back.

"????!!?!?!"

When Kirishima's head snaps to his direction to confirm, Denki just dips his head with a stifled grin towing at his folded lips, the coral tint blenching at the pressure, "Yes, I know."

"Heiheihei."

"Is that burning wheat head there Katsuki?" Y/N asks the other whilst he narrows his eyes at chafing silhouette in a further range beside a tree by the sidewalks, "well it seems it is, from that unmistakable hedgehog hair. I'm gonna go irrita-I mean talk to him."

Bidding a hasten goodbye to the mustard and ketchup duo, Y/N steps up his speed and plods towards Katsuki to save the tree from a fate of being set aflame.

"Uh ... s-see you tomorrow!" Denki blurts out as a salmon flush sifts across his cheeks and the tip of his ears flare up.

Y/N hums in response, letting out an amused chuckle at his face, "Alright, Den-ki."

"Katsuki!"

The said person turns a deaf ear to the voice shrieking at him behind, he continues striding his way along the streets, hands prodding into his pockets. Katsuki deeply inhales and exhales, teeth gritting against each other and searing eyes shut for a second.

Getting the point that Katsuki is most likely not going to make any response anytime soon, Y/N slopes his head and blocks his way with a grin that makes Katsuki want to slap him all the way to Texas, "You know what your name reminds me of?" He leans in.

Still, Katsuki refuses to speak or give any form of response, but the subtle quail of his eyebrows and twitch by the side of his lips rats him out. Y/N swivels to walk shoulder-by-shoulder with him and simpers at the reaction he wanted and got.

"Ya know Deidara? The Ino-lookalike in Naruto?" he adjourns for a second to let Katsuki think, then he exclaims, his hands gesturing in the air, "He goes katsu katsu!"

Instantly, Katsuki's face dims down and wrings into a scowl. Spinning his head to Y/N direction, the latter can see the swollen veins streaming along his face, and Katsuki snarls, "Screw off."

"Kats-"

"I said," he heaves a hefty gulp of air whilst he sinks his head, letting murkiness cast over his eyes, "fuck off." His hand reaches up to run through his hair as he loiters.

"What the fuck is wrong with you."

There it is, the same words he's heard so many times in his short life and it's so frequent that he-

"Alright I'm going plan 6," attaining the limit of his patience, Y/N seizes Katsuki's wrist and drags him off into the opposite direction of where they were walking to.

Katsuki wrangles against his firm grip which he to no avail, couldn't impel off off his reddening wrists. He redirects his focus to Y/N and snaps, exposing the ignited blaze within his crimson irises to him, "Oi! Where are you bringing me?" Seeing no response, he draws his arm back with duress and continues, "Tch, I can walk by myself."

"Just follow me I'll bring you to this one place I used to work at," Y/N says as he snatches Katsuki's wrist again, taking no reaction to his protests, the corner of his lips hefts into a devious beam, "I think you'll fall in love with it once you get there."

"Hmph, I better."

、、、

"What's this?"

The two teens stand in front of the entrance of a stairwell to a dubious place from the flashing neon signs and posters pinned on the walls beside that seem like it would belong outside a strip club or bar.

"An anger room, of course," Y/N says like they can even identify which sign belongs to where they're going exactly from all the blinding neon shit, settling an arm around Katsuki's neck (he has to tiptoe a little to reach).

"Are you sure it isn't an underground place for drug dealing or shit?"

Y/N sighs whilst shaking his head at Katsuki, putting more of his weight above him. "Yeah it is shady but it's the cheapest in the area, man," as he shrugs in his regular casual manner, he smacks Katsuki on his back to assure him, "and it's gonna be fine! You've got me bro, livin' on the streets with the yakuza roaming around since childhood."

"Hmph, I'll trust you for once," Katsuki murmurs in an almost faded volume, he folds his arms and turns his head away from Y/N's vision, chin upright to the sky, vain as always.

"Oh and just saying before we go in, you gotta pay for yourself because I'm broke as fuck to pay the price for two people."

"But you said it was cheap?" Katsuki turns his head back and arches a brow at him.

"I gotta save every penny I can, I pay my sister's school fees too man," Y/N answers and just stares at the front equipped with a tranquil smile like nothing can go wrong (everything goes to shit).

"So is that why I always see you around everywhere?" Digging his hands into his pocket, Katsuki adds, "part-timing?"

"You do?" surprised by the fact, Y/N questions as he glances in Katsuki's direction.

"MCD, that one boba tea chain shop, Familymart, this fancy restaurant," Katsuki lists out most of the places he has seen the boy at.

"Oh, all except the boba tea one. I quit since they procrastinated to give me my salary," as if to add to it, he laughs faintly at himself before changing the topic, "anyways, let's get in man. We're blocking the way."

Detaching his forelimb from Katsuki's shoulder, he treads towards the dim stairwell and makes his way down to the front counter of the anger room. He wedges a thousand yen note at the man guarding the doorway to the place, conveying him an ingratiating simper. The man takes a glimpse at Y/N and steps aside, nodding.

The entrance room is coated with an amber, crimson wash, some of the walls are slightly cracked and torn, revealing the original beige colour from it, and the front counter stows in the middle of two doors leading to who knows where.

Y/N wends his way over towards the boy wholly focusing on gliding through his phone by the counter, he winches up an arm and spanks the boy in the head, "Aye, Kaito."

"Aish-who the fu-Oh L/N," Kaito's head ascends and he sets his phone down on the desk beside him. "You comin' back to work here or somethin'?" he queries and arcs a brow, bracing an elbow on the counter and easing his jaw on the back of his hand.

"Nah, just bringing a friend here to take out his anger issues," Y/N ridicules whilst gesturing at the wheat head beside him that has been silent for some time.

"Oh okay then," Kaito gives Katsuki a brief glance before continuing as he twists back to get the safety equipment for them, "how many minutes?"

"Two for ten minutes, just the usual one for people new to this."

"Alright, take these clothes and I'll lead you guys to the room," placing the stack of navy jumpers on the counter, he turns around to exit the checkout and walk forth to the door on the left.

Y/N and Katsuki trailed behind him through the door and over to a corridor of wine, carmine colour hues, they progress by a number of doors marked with a variety of symbols. Some weakly echoing whimpers that make people go into the crooked region of their minds and others clamouring with the sound of someone sparring. Until they halt at a door with the fragile icon, does Katsuki's frown allay a little. A grin stretches upon Y/N's lips at his rich of interest in this place, as it's been a while since he's visited and a lot has undergone change.

He peers to his side, to see Katsuki run his narrowed eyes over the area with heed as a result of the suspicious noises they previously heard. Muffling a snicker, Y/N kinks his brows at him and asserts in amusement, "Don't tell me you haven't been to one of these underground businesses."

Earning an irked lour from Katsuki, Y/N surrenders with his hands before his chest, palms facing outwards, he chuckles. "Okay, okay now put on your protection man," he holds up an orange helmet as well as a pair of gloves in one hand, gesturing at it, "I don't wanna get scolded by my future-parents-in-law if you get hurt or somethin'."

Katsuki rips the equipment off Y/N's hands and puts it on, but not before giving the latter a toxin-brimmed remark, "Even if I get hurt it's none of your business! And who the fuck's your future-parents-in-law, you're not gonna meet them!"

"Who knows."

Before Katsuki begins his rampage, Y/N disrupts his spiralling fury by tossing him a baseball bat all of a sudden, "Here, catch this."

"You can start."

、、、

"Soooo," Y/N drags on the end of the syllable as he lazes his head on his intertwined hand behind, idly sealing his eyes shut whilst they walk along the streets, "How was it?"

They have just finished their prolonged two-hour session, thronged with Katsuki flinging his bat to the side to instead wield his explosive quirk, Y/N wrecking glass bottles at the sidelines and springing up and about the room to avoid the searing fireballs constantly shadowing after him.

"It was okay," Katsuki, proud and egotistical as he always is, responds with a typical answer to such question whilst he folds his arm and acts the part of proud.

"Only okay?"

"I even skipped my part-time job this afternoon for you," Y/N holds a hand under his nose as he sniffles until he couldn't mute his smile and he says, "and are you sure because ... who was the one yelling to add ten more minutes and more mannequins to break again?"

"Tch."

"Alright, I'll stop."

"Where's your house, I'll send you there like the gentleman I am."

"More like stalker," Katsuki sneers with his nasal, evidently distance himself from said stalker to show - to no avail, since the stalker slinks an arm around his shoulder to keep him from creating more gap between them.

"For you I don't mind being one."

Katsuki almost jumps and soar into his temper as he strolls, "You-I-"

"Oya, you're angry?" Y/N teases, his eyes squint into a roguish grin as he outstretches his hand to graze at Katsuki's forehead as if to test his temperature.

Katsuki slaps his hand away as soon it scrapes against his skin, a crease crinkles at his forehead with his vexation, he shouts, "Yes I am! Now fuck off!"

"Alright alright! Just let me ..." Y/N lets out a slipped laugh at first then he trails off.

"Let you wh-"

Y/N pinches Katsuki's chin, drawing him closer whilst he grasps Katsuki's wrist post-haste to extinguish the readied offence in his palms. And before Katsuki acts on his own instinct to struggle out of his grip, he turns his head and feels a sultry, plumed peck on his lips.

HONG!

The chafe ended within a mere second but both their faces burst into a wide diversity of colour ranges, from a pale green to white then to crimson. Eye widened and mouth agape, they stare at each other, stunned. Y/N is the first to pull back from his stupor, he blinks his eyes then overlays his hand atop his lips as he hacks in a rigid demeanour.

He did not expect Katsuki to twist his face at the exact moment he tried to kiss his cheek quickly.

Composing himself with a collected facade - too calm to be like his normal self - he cracks the silence with his voice, "I-I-it w-w-wasn't-I gotta go, s-since my little sister's probably waiting for me at home."

"SO BYE! "

Until he's several roads away from the person he wants to really hide from at the moment, Y/N halts his footsteps and breathes in slowly as he stirs a hand through his dishevelled hair with his brows furrowed.

Fuck.

He messed up.

And when Katsuki finally reacts over, only to find Y/N's already-bolting back view across the street, and vONG!-Wisps of flames begin crackling behind his back.

"FUCKER, COME BACK AND FIGHT ME FACE ON!"

、、、

"S/N!"

"Yeah?" her voice reverberates from the kitchen.

"I gotta go first so I'm just gonna grab this milk and go!" plucking the carton of milk from the table surface, Y/N scuttles to the doorway and crams his shoes on in urgency.

"Okay! Don't forget your keys!"

Y/N hums at the top of his voice in reply, he departs from the house, slamming the door shut behind him so harsh that even S/N cringes at the volume. Seeing as the elevator will take longer for him to go down, he sprints down the tapered and rundown stairway, from the eighth level to ground level.

Out of the apartment and down the streets by the zebra crossings, Y/N leans against the lamp post, eyeing the decreasing bright red digits beside the tiny red human symbol on the traffic lights. Just as he groans in tedium, a pot of fair hair in the bustling crowd intercepts his attention, and from peering at his side profile - Y/N blows a whistle at it internally.

Honed jaw and rather pasty skin, he strikes most to be somewhat feminine-looking at first impression but his broader shoulders say otherwise. His fringe dangles over his left eye, indigo irises pouring forth with confidence, and pale red lips pursed.

"My eyes have been blessed for the day," Y/N indistinctly mumbles into his palms veiling over his mouth, eyes glued to the blonde head a distance away.

"Eh? We're going the same way?" realising they've been walking the same way the whole time, Y/N can't help but doubt that it's rather sceptical that it can't be a coincidence or anything similar. Well, until he gets a glimpse of the front of the boy's blazer and recalls the familiar-looking green stripes on it, "Oh, Yuuei High School."

Waiting for the metro to arrive at the station, Y/N feasts his eyes on the beauty in the configuration of that blonde boy, he gets overly engrossed into it that the advent of the train doesn't process through his eyes nor his ears - up till the announcement resounds through the platform, does he act over and use his quirk to catch up to the closest shutting metro door.

As he steps in the train, his foot just about to get snared by the sliding doors, Y/N makes it and brooks a breath of relief. Reminiscing the slight horrors of the moment just before, he curses profanities in a low tone whilst he clutches onto a suspended strap handle, "Holy fuck, that was close."

Ten minutes later, after Y/N gets off the train.

"Excuse me."

Y/N's head snaps to the direction of the speaker and meets a pair of violet pupils. His voice is neither deep nor high, regulated at a median pitch - differing it from most people's voices. It gives people a pleasant sensation to their ears despite his malice-pervaded words, and Y/N is no exception to the sorcery of his tonality.

Y/N staggers a little before answering the boy, "Yeah?"

"Can you like..." he starts strongly but tapers off, the boy presses his lips together as if there's something in his mind stalling him from speaking further.

"Yes?"

His blenching lips part, sighing with exasperation, he goes on, "Can you stop following me?"

"???!!?!"

"You've been following me since like twenty minutes ago on the street just below my apartment and your stare is uncomfortable."

Listening on till this point, Y/N finally can't continue restraining his laugh and doubles over right in the middle of the station platform. It isn't until retches of tears brim his eyes does he straighten up and says to the boy with a sweet smile adorning his lips, "Overly imagining things is an illness, I think you should go to a doctor bro."

"Because I live there in an apartment close by too."

"Then why are you coming down on the same station as me?" the boy doesn't concede he's wrong and persists to ask, chin angling upwards at Y/N.

"I'm a Yuuei student too," hauling the exact same blazer from his shoulder, Y/N sways it up in front of him for the boy to see, "See~"

Even the blank face can't conceal the boy's atmosphere that turned blatantly awkward but that doesn't stop his never-ending loop of questions still, "What class are you in? Are you a senior or something?"

"Nope, just got in this month from the exam."

"Then-"

"Buddy, are you sure you don't want to hurry up?" Y/N cuts him off, a mocking smile tugging at his lips as he points at the looming clock on top of one of the entrances to the station, "It's almost time for class to start now."

"Oh fuck! "

The boy hastens towards the front, outright ending his conversation with Y/N to steer clear of a late mark on his attendance chart.

"See you~"

Y/N only dispatches a classic™ wink to him.

"Shut up!"

TO NOTE

i've been looking through these chapters and god, when i compared it to this one bnha oneshot i read.

it was fucking horrendous - but i'll just take my time and write properly so it would be of better quality?