#GOOEY GUY!! PERFECT CREATURE!

[bogleech]

What are your favourite dragon quest monsters across the entire series?

The first Dragon Quest Monsters game I've ever gotten to play wound up being the first one to leave out exactly the top three I looked forward to getting:

GIANTSLUG/MAULUSC: I'm pickier about slug and snail creatures than you maybe expect but I love the vapid drippy zombie face of the DQ slug. It perfectly captures the appeal of a slug as a monster, a mindless gooey thing that will just eat you without a care. And its classic color scheme is that of a Banana Slug!!

BELZEBUB: I am also picky about fly creatures; usually I want them to have the proboscis present in some way, and the correct number of wings (two). There's something I still love about the toothy mouth of Belzebub however, maybe the way it curls up between the eyes? It just does a good job capturing the feel of a fly's personality I guess.

DARKEYE/EYELASHER: eye creatures can also very easily feel a bit boring to me because I've just seen so, so many of them, but DQ's basic killer eyeball appeals to me a lot with its irregular fungus-like collection of tentacles. The little root branches on "top" are especially cool to me, and sometimes they're the bottom, because they represent where the eyeball attaches to either floors or ceilings! In a few games, they're even encountered as parasites inside bigger monsters!

I used to admire the guidebook to the first two DQ Monsters games as a kid but never had the games themselves, and never got around to any other DQ titles. I just spent my whole life waiting for just the right one where I'd finally get to assemble my three favorites, then finally this new one comes out and has to be the first time these three took a vacation :( But, Dark Prince was at least nice enough to include exactly my next three favorites in the franchise. I went over them already in my DQM Dark Prince post but some people will see this post first so I will have to reintroduce them:

DROHL: droopy flappy membranous mollusk guys, honestly horrible looking in a great way. In 3d games it turns out their helmetlike head spirals in the back like a snail shell! Apparently they're meant to be troll-like beings.

LUNATICK: just a blue fleshy sac thing with gooey antennae, a bunch of tentacles (most of them segmented like worms!) and a little eyeball, perfect, no criticisms, also reminds me of what Berserk considers an "Incubus:"

(Don't worry, Berserk Incubus aren't sex monsters but monsters that give you nightmares and feed on the fear)

TAILEATER/MAD MOLLUSK: I love how pathetic their front face looks, and the whole shape is so pleasantly reminiscent of an abyssal sea cucumber of some kind.

SKULLROO/GUAARDVARK: I didn't even realize this was one of my top favorites until getting it in Dark Prince. It's an unpleasant wrinkly fat aardvark kangaroo thing that just always carries a human skull around. Its profile says they collect them and the one they carry is their favorite! A lot of slightly lower favorites were also left out however, none of these are in Dark Prince but are very high up there to me:

PYURO: what is this thing? I don't know! Different games have categorized it as an insect or a plant. It's a furball with five eyes encircling a butterfly proboscis, two little legs and a big huge ring of flower petals behind it. Very xenobiology.

TONGUELLA: it's kinda like a dumpy, hairless sloth with an aardvark tail with a mushed-in dog face and a giant gross tongue. I guess I just like foul moist beasts. I wish this was a real mammal we had in the world, I bet it'd smell terrible. Feels like a perfect counterpart to Guaardvark.

SLURPERON: it's one tiny pitcher plant with a giant tongue and then it has cool reptilian eyes at the bottom end. So simple and so rad! A fun way to stylize a pitcher plant monster without ripping off Victreebel.

SICKLER: is a little tiny mantis in a robe, like the Tonberry from Final Fantasy but a mantis

RAGIN' CONTAGION: a newer one, a gooey vaporous cyclops ghost that represents disease. In its first appearance as a boss in the series the English localizers decided it should talk like Yosemite Sam. Sure why not!

So I like the new game and it gave me some new favorites like Skellyfish and new appreciation for some others, but oddly it only has my very middle all-time faves

[blorbologist]

For the CR Spell Hurt/Comfort: 18 Zone of Truth, Laudna and Imogen.

ANOTHER TWOFER:

18. Zone of Truth

"You create a magical zone that guards against deception in a 15-foot-radius sphere centered on a point of your choice within range. Until the spell ends, a creature that enters the spell's area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there must make a Charisma saving throw. On a failed save, a creature can't speak a deliberate lie while in the radius. You know whether each creature succeeds or fails on its saving throw."

[OK SO THIS IS ZONE OF TRUTH, but I just had Jester appear in my head and say ‘you know what would be fun? TRUTH,,, OR DARE’ and its good practice to listen to the brain Jester.]

They’re the last ones standing.

Which is really so astounding? At least that she and Imogen are still upright - Ashton is Ashton, so it makes sense. 

Fearne and Chetney are passed out in a corner, and Laudna isn’t sure who is sitting on who. Orym got the bed because he had, very wearily, said he was going to bed because we had to be up early tomorrow (he had to be up early to do squats). But half the party’s other guests - friends of his, and Fearne’s, and Dorian’s - all piled in after him. They were fun - the pink-and-gooey one especially (Twinsies!).

Letters could not join in person, and so had been drinking in front of his webcam in a Discord call. Which was less fun, but fun enough to get them to gush about their new boyfriend. So cute.

The lady who lived upstairs - Keyleth somethingorother - had checked on them and offered them some 3am tater tots, which sent almost everyone else calling an Uber home while the greasy carbs. Which left them three and one more bottle of vodka.

Three, taking up the hallway’s hardwood floor and fewer pillows than they’d like on account of all the casualties. It means Imogen leans her sleepy weight into Laudna. She’s got hips almost as pointy as Laudna’s, but her arms are the perfect give of farm muscle looped around her shoulders, warm. 

Pate wiggles a bit on Imogen’s thigh, using it as a seat. He’s completely trashed, and without sipping a single drop! The animal!

“- I’m telling you,” Ashton snarls (not at them, but in general. Ashton does that. Still, Imogen goes tense), “spin the bottle fucking sucks when you’re not a big group. You should have played it while everyone was still conscious.”

Laudna keeps her shrug light to not dislodge Imogen. “Well,” she says, “Pate hadn’t thought of it until now!”

“Maybe some other game, darlin’?” Imogen asks her neck. It’s easy to nod in agreement when she asks like that. 

Ashton huffs. “Fine, then. Truth or dare, because we won't see this much vodka again for a while.” They smile, just a jagged thing, when Laudna claps in delight. “Right - you. Truth or dare?”

“Truth!”

“Did you - for real - actually make the little guy? Not a thrift find?”

Laudna bobs her head agreeably. The arms around her neck twitch, like this was offensive. Which is silly. “Nope! Pate is all mine. Do we all drink regardless?”

“Sure, why not.” 

She grins, the sort that usually makes everyone wince. Maybe it’s all the drinking, but neither of her companions so much as flinch as she takes a sip and smacks her lips triumphantly. This far in, it hardly burns on the way down. Laudna cranes her neck to find Imogen, face impassive. “Imogen - truth or dare?” 

--

It all - it’s hard to describe. Not blur, that would be too… soft, she thinks? It smudges, maybe. Or decomposes, gets reborn a ways down the food chain. 

That sounds better, because it’s different. The truths are deeper, dug out of feet of soil in the chest. The dares are - well it’s mostly around finishing the vodka. Or seeing if they can get away with messing with their friends without waking them up. Laudna is very proud of the popsicle stick house she’s built on Chetney’s chest. He’ll like it!

“This ain’t too fun with only three of us either,” Imogen mumbles. She brightens a little and tilts her chin down. “Oh - Pate! Truth or dare?”

He taps his little beak. “Hmmm… for you, babe, I’ll go with a dare.”

Ashton groans, “Fuck - don’t soak the rat in alcohol.”

Imogen leans back. In the dim light of the hallway, and their phones, her irises look like hellebore. Maybe hollyhock? Hyacinth? 

“Kiss Ashton,” she says simply. Like it’s simple - poor Pate has a beak, he has no lips to kiss with! But - no. Ashton narrows his eyes, as Pate wiggles in anticipation, and gives him a gentle peck on the fuzzy head.

“Hm - al’ight,” says Pate, and the odd tension of the moment is broken. Laudna might be a bit too drunk for her own good. Even Pate sounds like he’s slurring his words: “Imogen! Truth or dare?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not sportin’ to ask the person who asked you. But sure - truth.”

Before Pate can get a squeak in, Ashton sets the bottle of vodka down. At… something in the morning, it’s loud. 

“You haven’t answered truth to one of my questions,” they point out. “But always to Laudna’s. And Pate’s, now. What gives?”

Imogen narrows her eyes. “What gives is that I know Laudna will not get all - all invasive, or interrogate me.”

“She’ll only ask what she knows the answer to, you mean.”

Laudna balks. “I - I don’t!” she says. Pate waves his little arms around, demanding attention.

“Ey, ey, ey! It’s ‘y turn! You two - stoppit. Right now!” Ashton and Imogen both glare down at Pate, which - which is a bit of a first, and makes him shrink back just a bit. 

“We good?” Pate continues. “Right - right. Uhh, Ash’n! Truth or -”

“Truth,” they snap. Laudna gives Pate time to think.

“Uh, Okay.” What would be a - a safe question? Diffuse the tension. “Oh!” She clears her throat to let Pate speak again. “Have you ever been ‘n loooooove? C’mon, tough guy.”

Ashton takes a long drink. “No.” And another. “Right. Laudna - truth or dare?”

She opens her mouth to reply - Imogen’s hand gripping her shoulder stops her. There’s a little jump of static, from sitting on the floor for so long.

“Really?” Imogen says sweetly. “C’mon now; Ashton, you’re lyin’.”

[unculturedmamoswine]

Happy Forduary! For Week One's theme, Family, I wrote some dad Ford with baby Shifty! Technically a prequel to a fic of mine but you don't need to read that to understand this. Just know that Shifty is a good boy who does NOT want to murder anybody in this AU.

Maybe Fiddleford was right, and he was being overly indulgent, Ford considered. Maybe he was anthropomorphizing this thing a little too much to be entirely healthy. Certainly he was losing some measure of objectivity, he could admit that to himself.

“Come on,” he told the blob on his kitchen table. He tapped a cereal bowl in front of it to catch its attention. His (the creature’s) eyes tracked the motion. “Just yesterday you turned into this bowl. Can you remember?”

It looked up at him, blinking, then quivered and became a perfect replica of the cheap bowl.

“Yes! Look at that,” Ford said to Fiddleford, who sat back in his chair, hands held off the table as if the shapeshifter would pounce on them the instant they came near. “As long as whatever I want him to become is no more than the mass he usually possesses, nothing fazes him!”

Ford held the real bowl and the shapeshifter in each hand. They were identically cool, of identical weights, and the shapeshifted bowl even had the same chip on the rim, showing white against the blue of the ceramic. Ford, grinning, feeling oddly triumphant, held the imitation bowl up to his face. “Well done!” he told it.

“You know,” Fiddleford began gently, “you oughtn’t talk to it like that. We don’t got no clue of what that thing is or what it could do. It could become anything for all we know.”

“In four days he’s never become anything more dangerous than a hot cup of coffee.” Ford wanted to roll his eyes, but Fiddleford did have good reason to be wary of unknown organisms after his encounter with the gremloblin. Ford was trying to be understanding. “You aren’t dangerous, are you, Shifty?” he asked the bowl, which promptly turned back into its default, gooey, insect-like shape. Ford set the real bowl down and rubbed Shifty’s head. The little creature rubbed back, burbling.

Fiddleford squawked. “Ford! You can’t name the thing! Even if you’re baselessly convinced it won’t kill us both, it ain’t in the least professional!”

“I’m hardly the first researcher to name my subject,” said Ford defensively. “And I’m taking notes!” He gestured at the notebook on the table. “Besides, he needs a name. It’s practical.”

“Alrighty.” Fiddleford stood up, taking his lab coat from the back of his chair and putting it on. “I won’t argue with you about it. Today, anyway.” He scratched at his chin. “Think I might head home, turn in early. Call Emma-May, talk to Tater.” He grinned at Ford, but it seemed strained. He was tired. Fiddleford had been unfocused and weary lately, nervous and unhappy with everything. “You have fun with that…fella. Whose sex, I’d like to remind you, we don’t even know.”

“Alright.” Ford moved the shapeshifter to the crook of his arm, standing to clap Fiddleford on the shoulder. “Get some rest. Take the weekend, Fiddleford. I’ll see if I can make any progress with the mystery of this little guy!” 

As Fiddleford waved and walked out of the kitchen, shaking his head, Ford looked down at the little creature (extraterrestrial life form? Extrauniversal life form? Just a weird bug?) and asked him, “What do you think? Are you mysterious?”

In a blink, Shifty turned into a hand, which gave a vigorous thumbs down. Ford laughed in surprise.

“Impressive! High six!” It slapped his palm. “Hmm.” Ford turned Shifty over in his own hand. It was his own hand. The shapeshifter had used Ford’s hand for a model. High six, indeed. “Well, then. Not mysterious at all, you say? An open book?” he teased, guessing what to expect.

Sure enough, the rascal instantly fell open in Ford’s hands in the form of Ford’s own journal. Ford chuckled, then frowned thoughtfully. “Hmm. Perhaps I was wrong about your shapeshifting being limited by your mass. Surely my journal is more massive than you in your true form, if you’ll excuse the assumption, my boy. Do you think your little gooey self is your true form?” The pages of the journal turned restlessly back and forth as if wind-tossed. Ford noticed they were blank. Perhaps he couldn’t mimic writing?

“Well,” he said quickly. “That’s alright. You can be whatever you want to be! Literally! Now, what do you say to a walk in the woods? You might spy an interesting new form to try. And I could use a chance to stretch my legs.”

A mouse scurried up Ford’s arm to perch on his shoulder. It squeaked and stuck its nose in his ear. “I hope you didn’t see that form in the house,” Ford said.

-

Ford breathed deeply as he stepped into the trees with Shifty, crunching over twigs and feeling the softness of centuries of decay under his boots. “Perfect weather for a walk, don’t you think?” 

The mellow warmth of the day loosened its grip even more as he and Shifty walked deeper into the trees. Ford talked as he walked, pointing out items of interest to Shifty. If he was an alien, Ford wondered if they had forests on his world. He wondered if Shifty would ever see them for himself. How long had that egg been in the ground? Perhaps he was entirely alone in the universe, a species of one.

After a little over an hour, Ford sat on a log generously coated in moss, enjoying the sounds of the forest. Shifty explored, scurrying up and down their log and onto the ground in front of them. He never strayed far, frequently returning to Ford for some unknown reason. He approached, inspected, and briefly became a fallen branch covered in lichen. Then he turned back into a mouse, sniffed at the branch, and bit the lichen.

“Hungry?” Ford asked, curious. He hadn’t been able to tempt the shapeshifter with any food at all so far. All Ford had seen him eat was the shell of the egg from which he’d hatched.

Shifty tossed his head viciously, making no impact whatsoever on the lichen in his mouth. “Um, do you need help?” Ford offered. Shifty let go of the lichen, squeaked loudly and repeatedly, then swiftly changed until he was a beetle at least a foot long. He tore a mouthful of lichen from the branch with his jaws and scurried back to Ford, who automatically reached down to pick him up.

Once on Ford’s lap, the colossal insect jerked his prize toward Ford. Ford hesitated, then took it from him when Shifty tossed his head again.

“Thank you,” he said. “But I’m not hungry right now.”

Shifty stomped his many legs and spun in several circles while gnashing his mandibles, seemingly frustrated. He resumed his usual form, stretching his body, clearly reaching for the lichen. Ford gave it to him, bemused. Shifty rocked from side to side, emitting a soft, high whistling sound Ford hadn’t heard him make before. It was a long, sustained noise that made Ford grit his teeth. Just when Ford was about to– well he wasn’t certain what, but something, the sound resolved itself into something else entirely.

“What.”

Ford blinked. He looked around for the source of the voice, then snatched Shifty up from his lap, holding him at eye level. Surely he’d misheard. “What?” Ford demanded. Shifty waggled the chunk of lichen at him.

“What,” he repeated. “What. What?”

“Oh, my…” Ford breathed. “You– spoke. That was speech.” Ford leaped to his feet. His heart was pounding. To say he was shocked would be a gross understatement. He’d always (well, in the few days since his hatching) spoken to Shifty as if the little thing could understand him, and he was clearly intelligent, responding in his own way, but this was nothing Ford had expected.

Shifty squirmed slightly in his grip, blinking his huge red eyes at Ford. He should have been repulsive, Ford thought, a bit numbly. His usual form was squishy, pale, with pointed limbs and sharp teeth spaced widely around his gaping mouth. He shouldn’t have been able to be cute.

“What?” Shifty repeated again.

“It’s, it’s a lichen. This?” Ford asked, just to be certain. He poked at the stuff, hanging from Shifty’s mouth. Shifty bounced excitedly. “It’s oakmoss. Neither moss nor, in this case, living on an oak.” Ford laughed, maybe a little hysterically. “It resembles a plant but isn’t one. It’s actually quite interesting; a lichen isn’t an organism unto itself, really. It’s a composite of an algae and a fungus.” “Hmm,” said Shifty in a small voice, turning again into Ford’s disembodied hand and feeling the oakmoss between his fingers.

“Incredible,” Ford murmured. When Shifty looked up at him by raising two fingers as if pointing at Ford, he added, “It’s a nice sample. If you’d like, we can take it back to the lab. We can compare it to the lichens in some of my books. How does that sound?” Shifty gave him a thumb’s up.

“Wonderful! I didn’t realize you had such a keen scientific mind! But you’re a smart boy, Shifty.” He patted Shifty’s back and started toward home, picking his way through the towering firs.

Afternoon was drifting into evening by the time Ford made it through his front door. He looked down at Shifty, grinning. At some point on their way home, he’d fallen asleep against Ford’s chest, his prize still clutched in his fist.

[mpregstoriesetc]

Expedition 3: stuck in a cavern of worms

Bryson explores the insides of the cavern within Parasite Forest, an unchartered area as he noted his countless discoveries he made as he explored the forest. The information on the inhabitants and environment will prove useful to his other colleagues. He noted that once he explores the depths of this cave, he would return to share his findings.

The cavern itself was clearly another world compared to the forest, as the walls were coated with thick and adhesive fluid. He struggled to free himself when he unwittingly made contact with it. The dimness of the cavern seem to give it the illusion that the walls seemed to move as he walked further in. He quickly noticed that the fluids seem to be abundant in the depths, covering every inch of the cave. And it was the perfect camouflage for him to walk into a pit fall, dropping him into a pit full of fluid.

He began to panic when he saw his clothes and equipment began to corrode. Although, he grabs a handful of the fluid and it harmlessly flows out of to his hand.

"Could this be corrosive? I don't feel a stinging sensation from it though... Not acidic enough to burn flesh?" He comments curiously.

He notices his backpack, within his arm's reach, sinking further into the fluid. He reaches out for it, hoping that there was something for him to use to get him out of this predicament. Just as he was about to grab it, it suddenly gets plucked into the air. He began to look around, his eyes adjusting to dim light of the cavern. That was when he noticed that the fluid on the ceiling dangles his backpack, as if it was taunting him, as if the fluid was sentient.

He began to struggle out of the gooey fluid, trying to find the nearest exit. His arms get wrapped and restrained by what seems like a massive earthworm, the longer he looks at it, the more he noticed that it was absurdly larger than the ones he found in the forest. He tries to break free, using all his strength to break out of the creature's grip. However, these earthworms were in their element, making his attempts of escape in vain, as it tightens its grip on him more.

He regains his composure, trying to think of a way of escape. However, the earthworms did not let up, as it pushes against Bryson's backside. He groans when he realized that his clothes had completely corroded, living him fully exposed, as it pushes into his anus. He roars in pain as the earthworm forces itself into him. However, another worm took the opportunity to rush into his mouth.

The massive worms proceed to defile Bryson's body at their entrances as his own saliva began to leak out of his nostril. He continues to grunt as the worms insert more of themselves into his body. Unbeknownst to Bryson, smaller worms began to approach his looking for their entrances into him. It didn't take long for them to infest around his member and navel in an attempt to enter him.

Bryson could only groan weakly for help, which fall on deaf ears as more worms began to infest and soon control his body. Thus the Parasite Jungle which that holds these terrifying parasites claims another victim... and he won't be the last...

( The Story Revision Credits go to the Best Guy: deviantknight25.tumblr.com/ , make sure to go check their really great stories out <3 )

© 2021 - 2023 HostileTakeover69

[brandiph0]

The woods of darkness

*One evening the gooey kids sneak in the woods to see what sparkle cave , but Blaygo is to worry about the cave because Blazagon and Pantaro told him not to go in the woods, some say if you go in the woods of darkness you be trapped in fear and sadness *

Blaygo: uhh Aoxi are you sure we can go in the woods ?

Aoxi: yeah I’m sure will go to the cave in a little bit and will be back home in no time

Mimi: what if our friends find out we’re not home ?they’ll be worried if we go in the woods of darkness

Aoxi: oh Mimi I’m sure we’ll be fine and trust me those creatures won’t no what hit it

Blaygo and Mimi: ok

* so the gooey kids head out in deep woods , but Aoxi ran a little too far and Blaygo and Mimi are catching up him.*

Mimi: hey Aoxi slow down we’re gonna end up in a circle!

Aoxi: we’re almost there I can see it!

Blaygo: geez Aoxi are you listening?

Mimi: don’t worry I’ll have perfect plan for him

Blaygo: ok I’m in

Aoxi : we’re here !

Blaygo: wow is so beautiful

Mimi: Aoxi omg you almost got us lost

Aoxi: I’m sorry I just want to see the cave but look at this beautiful place!

Mimi: * shocked * wow I never see it so ….shiny before

Blaygo: I’m speechless …but let’s have a little bit of and head back

* they play in cave for hours and hours, Blaygo picking out the berries and double check if is not spoil, Aoxi swimming in the pond and the the other fish and Mimi is looking at her reflection the water *

Blaygo: * looks at Mimi* Mimi are you ok?

Mimi: yeah I’m just thinking about my parents and I know hard enough for me to about it.

Aoxi: * here Mimi and Blaygo talking * huh?

Blaygo: no is ok I’ll listen

Aoxi: * goes to them and sit down * I’ll try to pay attention

Mimi: that’s good we’ll it hard to say but when was little baby sheep my parents told me about the cave it will guard you from danger and protect you from the wilders I been there every day until… the wilders broke in my home and they were trying to eat me

Blaygo and Aoxi: * shocked *

Aoxi: oh no

Mimi: yeah and mommy told me to go in the cave while dad was fighting the wilders and I jump out the window and I ran into the cave and I lay down crying I been in the cave for almost a year then I got out and back home and see… there gone

Aoxi: …..* looks at the water in sadness *

Blaygo: I…I’m sorry for your loss Mimi but I’m glad you safe with us and our friends and family

Mimi: thanks I I’m glad you and Aoxi are the side of good and is getting late we should go back home

Blaygo: yeah besides my fathers and Kichi are getting worried that I’m gone, hey Aoxi you want to head back?

Aoxi:…in a minute I’ll catch up with you

Blaygo: ok don’t stay here too long

Aoxi: I won’t

* Aoxi had been in the for a hours and while he was out of the sparkle cave he released the woods have turned dark and he was so scared and worried he ran in and out of the woods 8 times but no luck *

Aoxi: * started to cry * Blaygo…..Mimi…. I’m….sorry I should have been listening to you guys about the dark woods….*sobbing * I just wanna go home

* then his tears had been made a whirl pool portal in his eyes *

Aoxi: woah … did I…made a portal?

* he went in the portal and he remembered what Blaygo said about family and friends as soon as he got out of the portal he sees Chouko, mimi and Blaygo and he was excited to see them again and he hug them. Aoxi apologize for not listening to them *

Chouko: you promise you’re gonna listen to me and your friends?

Aoxi: I promise can we go home please

Chouko: sure

The end

[mod2amaryllis]

it's an animal thoughts morning. one thing I don't see mentioned often enough when it comes to animal handling/relations is the importance of endearments. and I mean that literally. I mean you should be referring to your animals as darling, love, angel, baby, etc as often as possible. seems obvious to some but I promise it doesn't occur to ppl. how often do we joke and insult our animals? WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE AND SILLY BTW but many folks take it to the extreme and only use funny rude words, or are very formal with their animals.

lemme explain. when you consciously start using endearments, two things are happening. the pet is registering your tone of voice/body language, which should automatically get some tenderness stank on there, and way more importantly: YOUR brain is being conditioned. Goose is straight up deaf and I still do this and I notice a difference between her and co-workers' pets because the difference is with ME. you are telling your brain "this creature IS baby, this creature IS darling" and the more you do it the more capable you'll be of exerting patience when they exhibit bad behaviors, which is SO FUCKING CLUTCH when it comes to building rich relationships.

with my animals specifically, this manifests as trust. no matter what, every time I grab them for a potty break, every time I see them, even if I'm cranky and exhausted, my greeting is a relieved sigh and a quiet "oh...my angels...hello my perfect darlings." contrast this with some of my uhhhh we'll say less experienced co-workers who will go back to their dogs with more frustration. nothing bad. I just genuinely don't know anyone else who's quite so deliberately lovey-dovey with their animals as I am, and Joanie and Goose are [DOTING PARENT MOMENT] The Best Fucking Dogs At The Clinic And It's Not Even Close Oh My God They Are So Good Walk On Their Leashes Like Absolute Champs They Never Bark Except When There's An Actively Aggressive Dog Then Joanie Will Bark Because She's Worried About Us Oh My God What A Good Girl Fuck Off I Love Them So Much.

so in my work, we've been doing curbside the last year. this makes parents nervous. they can't observe what we're doing inside. FOR THE RECORD, there has been a noticeable improvement on behavior because animals are generally less cooperative when they're also worried about their owners, but we've still been extra careful about reassuring everyone involved. the moment I'm taking that animal from their parent, I switch from professional-talking-to-a-human-voice to gooey-gushy-baby-sweet "hiiii shnookums hewwo little one it's okaaaaay <3333" all the way to the door, all the way inside, the WHOLE time I'm buttering up that patient, and I'm sincere about it too.

I can't fucking stress the difference. I CAN'T stress how much animals understand us. lol actually it always annoys me to see hypotheticals like "wow wouldn't it be cool if we could talk to animals :)" because we already can!! to the best of their capability, we DO already communicate. they're picking up every motion and inflection, I promise you. THEY understand US, the language barrier is in the other direction and you can learn it if you care to.

but this is why I'm the guy for reactive animals. I literally purr while restraining cats. I never stop sweettalking. that's why friday when a nervous puppy with a "caution" warning came in and everyone else was being a fucking weirdo thinking he'd bite them I walked over and assured him "hi my friend it's okay" scooped that dude right on up worked with him all day. caution is important but literally confidence and reassurance is WAY way way moreso.

anyway yeah if you don't already do it, I recommend taking endearments out for a spin. shnookums is a favorite of mine. change that brain chemistry.

[boliv-jenta]

Bloodsucking Beloved

Series Masterlist / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Chapter 4

Warnings: violence, blood and gore, mild smut, bad language. No minors. 🔞

"Babe, what's wrong?" Max was by her side before she'd even shut the door behind her.

"Shit, Max. Don't do that." She had almost gotten used to Max's stealthy stalking ability scaring the hell out of her. It surprised her less and less now a days.

Tonight though she was already on edge so his sudden appearance rattled her already frayed nerves. "Am sorry." she sighed at the kicked puppy look on his face. "What happened? I could hear your heartbeat as you got to the door." he said taking the groceries from her and setting them down on the counter. As soon as his arms were empty he wrapped them around her. "Just some asshole speeding down the street again. I was already on the side walk but my car shock with how close he sped past it. It freaked me out a little." she spoke into his chest as she nuzzled her head there. "What asshole? Do you know where they live? I'll pay them a visit." His chest puffed up as he spoke, his vampiric strength making itself known. "It's fine Max. The neighbourhood watch gave his details to the authorities after the last meeting. That's part of the reason they're getting a speed bump. The old guy across the street is calling the cops as we speak. I think he got a picture this time." As her words calmed Max she started to unpack her shopping.

Max smiled to himself. He'd 'lived' here for years. No one ever really made an effort to talk to him. She had been coming around for a few months and the neighbours had gone out of their way to welcome her. Not that he was surprised she was so down to earth and approachable. Her smile would draw anyone in. Even the way she moved, effortlessly graceful. Max still couldn't believe she chose him. "Wait, you could hear my heartbeat from all the way outside? Can you always hear people's heartbeats from that far away? That would drive me nuts."

"Not everyone's, just yours. Like how penguins can spot their mate just from their waddle. Yours just calls out to me." He stated simply. Tears welled in her eyes as the sweet notion. "Hey, you getting all gooey on me?" he nudged her with his hip. "No, I just love penguins. They're so cute. The babies are all fluffy." she teased walking to the fridge.

"Yeah they're cute. They mate for life you know." he took note of the blush on her cheeks. "Some of them also have sex in exchange for pretty rocks." she laughed at that.

"Wow and here's me just giving it away for free." she sighing she shook her head. "I need to start charging."

Pulling on his tie she drew him in for a quick kiss before placing her hands on his chest. His strong arms caged her in as he placed his hands on the counter behind her. "How about giving a guy a little something on credit, if I promise to get you a very pretty rock later?"

Lifting her head up she brushed her lips to his. "Sorry, no credit. Store policy." she ducked under his arms before her grabbed her around the waist pulling her flush to him. Pressing his erection into her plump ass. "What? No Klara? Clearpay?" He laughed grabbing some glass pebbles from one of the artificial plants on the counter. "No, but we do offer something in that price range." she giggled before dropping to her knees in front of him. As she took his length in her warm, perfect mouth. Max thought about the rock he had already picked out for her and finalised his plans to give it to her.

Humming to himself Max smoothed out the table cloth for the third time. He knew it was ridiculous, it hadn't moved since the last time he he did it. He just wanted everything to be perfect. Tonight was special and she deserved everything to be absolutely perfect. Checking the clock on the wall, he knew she would be in any moment, she was a creature of habit, he moved to the kitchen. Dinner was ready so he turned the oven off, he'd take in out once she was seated. He thought it would be cute to meet her at the door to escort her to the table like her own personal maître d'. Grabbing a towel to throw over his arm he practically skipped to the door as he heard her heartbeat outside. He listened contently to the steady thumping.

The roar of a car engine speeding up. "Asshole." Max growled to himself. As he made to open the door to give the speeding dickhead a piece of his mind, he was stopped in his tracks by the steady thump changing to erratic pounding. A thud. The screech of breaks. Shouting. His enhanced speed had him out the door at at the source the the commotion in seconds. That's when he caught the scent. Blood. Hers. "Move." he pushed the couple walking their dog out of the way. Past them, she lay on the road. Blood coming from her mouth, her arm twisted unnaturally to the side. Her breathing slow and her heart struggling. Glass littered the hair that spread out in a way that in any other circumstances would look quite angelic.

Max heard his nosy neighbours from across the street talking to 911. For the first time he was grateful that the man didn't miss a thing. Help was on the way. He had no idea what to do in the meantime. He wanted to hold her so much but he was terrified he would break her in her fragile state. That's when he heard the man ask for the police to come too. Max couldn't help her, he'd put his faith in the paramedics for that. He could make sure that speeding bastard paid for hurting her. "Stay with her!" he urged the couple before turning to follow the scent of her blood away from the scene. Since that asshole drove through regularly he knew he couldn't be far. He pushed the thought of her lifeless form to the back of his mind. She would be fine. It was their special night. She couldn't....he buried that thought down. At the end of the next block he found him. Tire tracks lead up his drive to his closed garage. At least he had the decency to hide, to be scared of the consequences. He was probably terrified of prison. Being locked away in tiny cell. When Max got a hold of him there wasn't even going to be enough of him to fill a tiny box. With one kick Max sent the front door flying open with a deafening bang. "Holy shit." the speeding asshole exclaimed as he backed down the hall. He was young, early 20's. Max thought about what she'd say. She'd be sympathetic, she'd tell Max that he was just a kid. That the weight of what he had done and the consequences would be punishment enough. Max thought that over for a second, she wasn't here right now, he advanced on the douchebag, his true nature making itself know. "Oh fuck!" The bastard screamed before stumbling backwards, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor. Max lifted him up my his shoulder and one of his arms. In the moonlight the son of a bitch could see Max's face distorted into vampire features. Max could see the terror in his eyes, smell the piss that leaked out of him in fear. She wasn't here right now, he began to pull on the jerk's arm. Max's hearing allowed him to hear the sickening crunch of his shoulder dislodging from it's socket under the screams of pain. His screams heightened as the ligaments, muscles and skin began to tear with a slick sound as blood sprayed out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The man sobbed as he dropped to the ground now that the arm Max was half holding him up with detached from his body. He shuffled back pitifully until he hit the wall behind him. "Please. Please." he begged between sobs and ragged breaths. She wasn't here right now, Max paused for a second, how would she feel knowing he'd done this? She wasn't here right now.....and she might never be here again. His brain finished as he kicked his foot through the wall, taking the head of the guy with it. Blood and gore seeped out of the hole as he pulled his foot back out. He wiped his shoe on the remaining clean part of the guy's fitted white tee. The sound of the ambulance leaving in the distance drew his attention, he shook off his vampire face as he slipped out into the night.

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

I See You Clearly Now

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 0, babeyy. Complicated human relationships, maybe.

Word Count: 5.5k, once again, what the absolute fuck, who am I

Summary: An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?

A/N: This was basically me working through my emotions for a person in my life. I don’t-

Also, this was half because of an anonymous request I got the other day that wrote “please some sam winchester x reader but maybe an au with no creepy scary things” Here you go, hon. I’d argue complicated feelings are scarier than monsters, but whatever lights your candle :)

It’s four in the morning and she doesn’t particularly know when the decision was made to ignore the black night sky or the time, or how both Madison and her mutually agreed to it, but sleep is not close in the horizon. College life is exhausting, but this week was uneventful and slow, unmoving to the point of boredom. The beers in her fridge were staring angrily back at her, and her contacts seemed to anticipate her texts. Madison was the first choice, she hadn’t seen her in a while.

And where I go / Singing song of your affection / With rhymes to your perfection / Of you

I see you clearly now / I hold you dearly now / The sun is in my eyes (x)

Meeting arranged, hugs in hello and rosy cheeks, because her apartment is always warm, beers cracked open and drunk, and now Madison is on one of her white, comfortable lounge chairs, angrily ranting about Steve Rogers and Marvel. It’s that hour of the early morning when everything feels a bit gooey and intangible, stretched and fabricated, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, content in defending a character she loves, warm, belly full of light alcohol and midnight-made crepes. Her cat moves loosely in the room, pointedly ignoring both humans, and Y/n’s cozy and happy to see the wild motions of her friend’s hands as she yells- the mild worry in the back of her head that she’ll find a note with a noise complaint taped on her door the next morning.

For all she cares, nothing could make this any better.

The night continues, laughter over Youtube videos and reality competition failures, repeated funny clips and belly-holding, more hurting of the cheeks from the laughter, more snacks, and she’s forgotten what that feels like in her never ending, break-neck-paced everyday life.

Time passes full of smiles and even more green cans of beer. Pyjamas are worn, sleeping bags are stretched on the floor over the fluffy grey rug, her cat seemingly having found a new enemy in the whipping of the sheets in the air. They laugh at her playing with them, until she settles on her little spot over her soft blanket. The girls stretch in their makeshift beds and they talk, texts are shot to other friends, also awake, selfies full of grins and-

“Sam says hello,” is all Madison has to say for Y/n to suddenly feel his absence in the room.

Sam. Of course.

“Gimme your phone.” Tipsy voice message with off-key singing sent. More happy smiles. A reply, a voice message of his own- “I’m glad you two are having fun. Where are you guys?”.

Y/n’s place, the reply is sent.

“Should I tell him to come by?” And Y/n has to hold her heart in steel hands to force it not to jump out of her chest and straight into her throat. Somehow, Sam always shows up when Madison calls, she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. Jealousy. Bottom lip bitten.

“Of course, if he wants to.” She hates to admit she’s excited to see him. Hates it, because she hasn’t talked to him in five months- not properly anyways- and the idea that Madison somehow is always in contact with him makes the familiar knife twist. The two had dated, sure, they’re friends now, a chemistry shared between them that’s inexplicable. It makes her wonder how two people can be so familiar with each other, how they can always be so fucking happy, bouncing off of each other, the sparks fly, people wonder why they broke up (Madison fell in love with someone else. Y/n doesn’t know how Sam reacted.)

Madison and her are friends, sure, but it seems everyone from that side of her friendships is close, but not enough to touch, so Madison never talked about it to her. Sam didn’t either. In fact Sam never even mentioned they’re dating. Sam never ever talks about his relationships. Not to her. He once told her, in that one phone call that lasted four hours until 6 in the morning, the one she can’t seem to forget, that he thinks his love life is nobody’s business. He’s vulnerable with it. Doesn’t share it ever with pretty much anyone (he’d share it with Madison, she thinks bitterly.) Sam, additionally, rarely answers her texts.

They’re in this weird limbo situation. She’d confessed her affection about a year ago, New Year’s eve and festive spirits, influenced by champagne and encouraging friends, and she’d received an “I wondered about us too, but I’m honestly in a weird place, unsure. I really enjoy your company, though, I think you’re really cool and I am very happy with how we are now. Friends.” No dice. She took it in stride. She’s fine with it. No really, she is. Over it.

Then Madison hooked up with him. That one hurt.

They’d talked about it- with Madison that is- because they’re friends, Madison had also been jealous -before Y/n’s confession, when Sam seemed sorta into her and things were going well- and had urged her to go for it. Y/n had shared the sentiment (“If you two end up doing anything, I’m fine with it, it’s really none of my business. You’ve been his friend for longer than I have.”) and she had really meant it. But then Sam didn’t want her, and he ran off in the sunset with Madison for a grand total of three months, and rotten feelings were there in every other step Y/n took.

Now though, she’s fine. Sam has a different pace than her, she knows it now, has come to terms with it. He’s such a gentle, loving creature, so caring and passionate and smart and kind, with those wonderful eyes and his soft hair and the scent that makes her weak in the knees. She’ll have him in her life if that means a single four hour phone call every six months and loose texts here and there- sent by her of course, because he rarely ever texts first for some infuriating reason, and she panics he’s gonna forget her. Other than that, she’s come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be distant friends, that she’ll admire him from afar and he’ll maybe think about her once a month.

He always seems so happy to see her, though. He’s so fucking difficult to decipher.

“He’s on his way.” Brought back to the present by Madison’s statement, Y/n sulks back in her seat, a small, excited smile crossing her features. She’s happy to see him. She missed him.

He’s making his way through the other side of town, though. He’ll be here in two hours just to see them, and her heart flutters.

Till then, Madison lays in her sleeping bag turns out the lights, Y/n’s cat stretches sleepily, and Y/n doesn’t fall asleep, anxious she won’t hear him ring her bell, won’t hear her phone or Madison’s at his call. She’s only slightly desperate.

Time has slipped to six in the morning. Y/n’s eyes are wide open, her head woozy from the fatigue and the alcohol, but, when the rug vibrates with the ring of Madison’s phone, she jumps. She jumps, and so does her heart, skips a beat, because he’s here and she hasn’t seen him since the summer and she just wants to hug him hello.

“Pst! Madison.” With a slap of her hand over her phone, Madison, in a lump on the floor, pulls the phone and balances it on the cut of her cheekbone, speaker over her ear, while her hand slumps back under the sleeping bag. Nelly- Y/n’s cat- blinks lazily, spooked by the sound of the phone call, but ultimately, not giving it much attention.

“Hm? Yeah. Mkay,” sleepy, mumbled words muttered into the phone. At least someone caught some shut-eye between them. “Bring some beers.” A small chuckle, a shake of her shoulders. “Oh yah.” Another laugh. “Hmph, buzzkill.”

Y/n is turning on a small light, just until the sun rises properly up the sky, because everything is currently a little dark still.

“Atta boy. We’re waiting for you.” Another short laugh. Madison hangs up  turns on her back, and her phone falls off her face as she stretches, smiles, arms slumping over her chest. She doesn’t offer much information about the phone call. Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.

Y/n stumbles, sheets tangling on her legs, nearly tripping, to buzz him in.

He walks up the stairs, and she sees his head rise over the edge of the top step, a crooked smile on his pretty lips and she smiles back brightly. Arms raised over his head, he shows a plastic bag, clinking glass inside, and he whoops slightly. Y/n grins, throwing a victorious fist in the air.

“The feast continues!” And Sam laughs, toothy and bright as the sun. Y/n attacks him with a hug.

Warm arms stretch around her, hold her close, warm and tight, and he still smells heavenly, like he showered before he left his house. He smells like freshly cleaned clothes and vanilla scented body wash, like the seat of his car, deodorant and a deep, musky smell she can’t quite place.

My God, she’s missed him.

Madison is still on the floor of Y/n’s bedroom, mumbling her hello and burrowing a little in her sheets. Sam kneels down and hugs her, and she hugs back. “Nice to see you, dick”

“Runt,” he replies with a nod, as if he tips off his hat to her. Carefully, Sam also kneels next to Nelly, scritches under her little chin and whispers his soft greeting, to which the cat responds with a low purr and the bending of her head to give him a little more room. Sam smiles, and Y/n can feel her eyes being shaped into comically large hearts.

“M’God,” Madison groans. “I wanna stay awake but ugh.” Y/n smiles gently.

“Go back to bed. I have an appointment with my therapist in four hours though.” Madison nods numbly.

“Wake me up in three and a half, I’ll leave.” Y/n and Sam share a look and the former shrugs.

“Okay.”

Madison shifts, puts her headphones on and shuts her heavy eyelids, pretty much instantly falling asleep. Y/n is running on battery saver mode, enhanced by the incredible amount of adrenaline Sam’s presence seems to bring.

She nods for him to follow her and grabs her laptop, dumping herself on her living room couch, Sam closing the bedroom door behind himself and following her lead. He deposits most of the beers in the fridge and keeps two, which he opens. Y/n watches his ease in her kitchen, even though he’s never been here before and her heart wiggles in content.

He sits next to her on the couch, keeping a barely there distance between them, as she pushes the screen open. Despite all the feelings that have manifested in her chest over the relatively short time she’s known him, Sam and her really hit it off since day one. She met him during a surprise party thrown for Madison. Sam brought the cake, Y/n the candles and the lighter, and other friends brought alcohol, plastic plates that were never opened and cutlery.

The whole group had waited under Madison’s building, singing a very cheerful happy birthday, loudly enough for their voices to grow hoarse, and for Madison’s eyes to roll back into her skull with a sheepish smile. They had walked to a park, sat down and feasted on the cake straight from the pastry box, yet Sam was talking with Y/n on the swings a little ways to the right, away from the cheerful company, talking about fond childhood memories, about his brother, about their favourite movies. Y/n felt it, felt her heart drooping low, the familiar feeling of wanting to impress someone, to be liked by them. Even then, under whatever stars could be seen in their city, she knew he was gonna be trouble.

Beer bottle passed, and she clinks hers on his cheekily, receiving a tip of his head and a half-smile in response. Decided sips. Bottles held against bent knees as they both fold them like pretzels. Small talk about college, about recent misadventures and drunken phone calls, and soon she gets the urge to fill their time with something.

“Movie?” she asks, and Sam just seems on board.

“What do you have?”

And he ducks close to her and checks out the titles. “Do you wanna watch Hamilton? I’ve heard it’s really good.”

“YES, Sam,” enthusiastic and loud. Sam grins. They settle back on the couch.

Fifteen minutes into the play, Y/n doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t ask and doesn’t preface by saying anything. With all the naturalism that their relationship has, all the affection she knows Sam has to give, she scooches closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder, hugs his arm to her chest, and he leans into her comfortably. “This okay?” The answer she looks for comes in the form of him leaning his head down on top of hers gently.

They watch two thirds of the play before they both get increasingly tired, since it’s a three hour performance. Their brains are kinda mushed, especially because of the lack of sleep, but they happily gush about how well made it is and Sam spews facts left and right about the price of the tickets, the actors and how the British royal family has gone to see it in-person.

“God, I wish I had the money to go up to NYC and watch it myself. I’ve never been to Broadway.” She sighs under his arm, which is now placed around her shoulders. Sam nods in agreement.

“Yeah, that must be so amazing to see in person.”

Bedroom door creaking open, Sam and Y/n separate from each other slowly as they watch Madison trudge to the living room like a phantom, a hand on her lower back.

“My God, Y/n, your floor is not hospitable at all.”

“Awh, I’m sorry.” Sam laughs next to her. “I don’t know why you didn’t move to the bed, though.” Madison glares, facepalms with a wince -the movement seems to rattle the spot that’s sore somehow- and shakes her head. “I didn’t- it- it didn’t cross my mind.”

Deep chuckles in amusement all around. Madison picks her stuff up. Y/n makes all of them some coffee, which they all quietly sip in the diminishing silence of the city waking up just outside their window.

The time for Y/n’s appointment approaches rapidly, and Madison waves goodbye, kisses both people on their cheeks and drives herself home. Y/n isn’t sure if Sam will stick around, so she checks the time awkwardly. She’d feel terrible to let him make his way back to other side of town just for these wimpy three hours wasted on tiredly catching up and watching a movie.

“Listen,” she says, and Sam’s attention is drawn from his coffee cup. “I’m gonna go to my bedroom, have my appointment, because we do it over Zoom anyway. You hang around, chill, and I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Alright,” Sam agrees gently. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

*

A painful, soul-straining hour later, wiping dry tear stains off her cheeks, Y/n makes her way to the living room, half forgetting Sam is even there. And boy if he’s there.

He’s stretched on her couch, legs barely fitting as he leans on the arm rest, ankles crossed, and a book he’s picked up from her bookshelf in his hands, while Nelly sleeps peacefully in his lap, finding comfort in his warmth. He hasn’t made an intense amount of progress, probably 50 or 60 pages in, but he seems invested, and for the seconds it takes him to notice her, Y/n admires him a little. Under the morning light through her thin, sheer curtains, rays are angled perfectly to make his cheekbones all the sharper, he, comfortable enough to relax in her worn-in couch. He looks so at home, and after such an emotionally draining hour, it’s so good to see someone who’s gentle, someone so familiar, waiting for her in her personal space, with her cat, as if he belongs there. It makes her heart do all sorts of stunts.

It seems he notices her from the corner of his eye though, and he puts the book down.

“Hey,” he tells her softly. “Are you good?”

“Uh,” she thinks for a second, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’m okay.” An offered smile, small and soft.

“Alright,” as if saying I’m choosing to believe you. “Have you read this yet?” He holds up a bright orange book, a small thing titled the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. An offered change of subject. She smiles.

“Yeah, I have.” He folds his legs with a soft apology to Nelly who jumps off disgruntled, and Y/n takes it as a sign to sit on the couch next to him. His feet rest against her thighs, knees bent still.

“It’s so…” He sighs, struggles to find the words. “I mean, it’s not something I’d usually go for. It kind of feels childish and simple, but it’s so beautiful.” He seems slightly confused, surprised to find something he thought may be silly to be actually really good.

“I know right? It feels really simplistic, but some of the stuff it says is so eye-opening.”

“Listen to this,” he says and sits a little straighter, fixing the pillow on his back a little. “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

It’s like he chose the quote specifically for her, for this particular moment. A look is thrown his way, and he smiles crookedly. “I, uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just heard you crying, is all.” A nervous shrug. Y/n feels exhausted, drained, but in that little smile, that warmth, she feels like tearing up all over again at how fucking sweet he is. She pushes at his legs and reaches out to him for a hug, which he welcomes. She sighs.

“Thank you, Sam.”

                                                          ****

Eventually, they get up. They move to the kitchen and make grilled cheese sandwiches and tea, and Sam leans against her counter as he watches her take out plates from her cupboards, Nelly prancing around with distant meows for attention. Y/n picks large mugs, puts honey in hers and serves their half breakfast on the kitchen island. They eat under light conversation about dogs in social media and pets, and Sam sorta looks like he’s always been there, like this is the life they’ve always lived.

Hot mugs cupped in thick sleeve-covered hands. Bodies curling up on different ends of a couch. Comfortable conversation continues. Topic shifted to something more serious, and Sam tells her things, talks about how he’s grown mentally, how he understands himself a little better and how he wants to try therapy. She’s happy to see him like this, being -if only slightly- more open about himself, about how he is, not closing himself up, not fooling himself into believing he can shoulder the world alone. Y/n gives him her therapist’s phone number, tells him she’s proud of him and shares her own stories. She ruffles his hair and smiles affectionately, and Sam thanks her. Their mugs empty. Her heart grows fuller.

While moving back to the bedroom, Sam kneels next to Nelly. He offers her his hand, lets her sniff it, scritches the top of her soft little forehead, and Nelly pulls away, sniffing, wagging her tail in short annoyance. “Is that not okay? Alright, I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers to her gently, watches her lick his fingers for a second before settling back in her cat bed and watching him wearily. Sam gets the message and he pulls away, and Y/n’s never, ever seen anyone interact with her cat this way. Respectful and kind (and if that ain’t Sam, alright) and her heart lurches a bit. Of course Sam, practically the perfect guy, would test her cat’s boundaries as if she’s a human, and then never push them again. She sighs.

They end up on her bed. Sat next to each other. Laptop in front of her, heavy conversation discarded, set down for now, and she searches for her favourite stand-up comedians to show him, because she knows his sense of humour and he’s gonna love them, she’s sure. Yet, as she’s scrolling, Sam does the unspeakable, and slides behind her, one leg either side of her, arms going around her.

“ ‘M sorry, I needed a hug,” he tells her, and she curls her own arms over his, leaning back against him.

“Anytime,” she promises and means every syllable. “You can stay like that if you want,” she tells him as well, and feels his chin on her shoulder as he nods, a huffed out breath softly knocking on the bare skin of her neck. She sighs into him. Gets comfortable, pulls the laptop on her lap -can you see well?- and lets herself be entertained, relishing Sam’s laughter against her back. She smiles, because  this finally feels good. She doesn’t yearn, doesn’t look for anything more. She’s ultimately incredibly happy with where they are, with all of this warm affection. There’s no butterflies, just comfort, just love and care and tired laughter that fills her mouth with honey. The sun is in her eyes.

Not ten minutes later he shifts, stretches his legs and pulls her more comfortably against him. With gentle fingers, he pushes two strands of hair behind her ear, to the side, touch so soft she barely feels it, repositions his chin on her shoulder and breathes out calmly and Y/n shivers. He holds her securely and she, well, she dares dream, dares feel what this would be like in a different context, and while there’s a little yearning this time, to remember what it’s like to want someone and to be wanted, to know what it’s like to be Sam’s, what it’s like to be held with utter security, knowledge that you’ll never be let go of, it’s not overpowering. She feels its presence, but it feels more like an old friend than a menace. She’s content. Finally. The opposing feelings seem to tame each other.

Something close to an hour passes. They make food, some creamy pasta just to hold them over until dinner. He stirs the pot while she shows him a funny video on her phone. They eat in comfortable silence, and Y/n feels the urge to tangle her legs with his under the table, but she doesn’t, terrified she’ll push him away, ruin this bubble of comfort and naturalism by taking things a step too far. What is too far, she wonders. She’ll let him take the lead, if that means he’ll continue being this physically close to her.

Sam washes the dishes. Y/n pecks his cheek in thanks. His smile is radiant.

They stretch next to each other on her bed, scroll through their texts, send silly pictures to mutual friends. The mistake she makes is when she grabs his phone and takes a really, and she means really, ugly picture. A zillion chins, pinched eyebrows, curved lips and tongue out, hands his phone back and contemplates the consequences.

“Gimme that back, you shouldn’t have that,” decided and regretful. Sam and his noodle, twelve feet long limbs hold the phone as far from her as possible and Y/n growls and laughs, stretches, tries to grab it off him. “Sam!”

“You really think I’m gonna pass this up?” he scoffs with a grin, and she yells his name, accusatory and playful.

“Give it BACK, my face is in there! Privacy infringement!” She yells. “You should know, you’re a lawyer!”

“But you willingly saved the picture in a phone that’s not yours!” Arms stretched high, laughter booming and loud, and she scrambles.

“Your word against mine!”

“You can be seen holding the phone yourself!” She growls again, tries to pull his arm down, tickles his side and he jerks and laughs. Y/n tries to throw a leg over his to hold him down, but Sam’s too quick, too strong. They fumble, thrash, tangled limbs, throat aching full of laughter, struggling and yelling useless threats.

Sam throws the phone on the rug and huffs, visibly almost done with her, like she’s an annoying but entertaining bug. He grips her hands, her left and right in his respectively, throws his leg over her waist, twists and straddles her, hands now over her head.

Heavy breaths. They pant, stare at each other, Sam shakes his head like a dog to get his hair out of his face.

“You can’t win,” he tells her with a confident smile. She narrows her eyes.

“Have you learned nothing from this friendship?” She blows a hair away from her face and looks at him smiling. “I don’t give up that easy,” coy smile, a promise, wink sent his way, and suddenly she’s thrusting up her pelvis, trying desperately to scooch up the bed with the rest of her body, but the grip on her wrists tightens, Sam barely budging. She struggles, drags her body up, fueled by pure determination and spite, wiggles fiercely and just barely manages to get on her belly, which seems like a mistake in hindsight.

Because now her hands are crossed, he’s basically got her on a choke hold with her own forearms, and she’s eagerly trying to get her knees under her, while Sam laughs loudly at grumbled comments like “What the fuck kinda core strength do you have, fucking behemoth.” The sheets get wrinkled and pulled off the edges of her mattress, her pillows get pushed to the side, to the floor, the struggle continues and her stomach and throat hurt from all the laughter, but she really can’t seem to get the upper hand, which would be obvious if someone so much as threw a look at both of them. Sam’s six feet and two full of young, sinewy muscle, a boy- a man, really- with biceps that may not be particularly thick, but the iron grip on her wrists says something else. His hands are the size of her face. Strength is not the way she should be going about this.

She twists again, barely able to get back on her back, and she pants. The asshole looks barely winded and her eyes narrow, him raising an eyebrow challengingly. What to do, what to do?

Y/n relaxes, but Sam doesn’t. She takes a breath, grins briefly up at his momentarily confused face, then yanks her hands up the bed, making him jerk down so he can keep her under his grip and-

And she kisses him.

Nothing long or particularly sexy, just a rough push of her mouth on his, and an ‘umph’ escapes him in surprise.

Sam startles, his grip loosens, and her hands are pulled free of his hold, kicking away from him and managing a small distance apart from his warm body, knees pulled up to her chest and panting fast and loud.

Okay, it seemed smart in that moment. It really did. But for a grand total of five eternally long seconds later, her heart shrinks, diminishes to ash and dust and regret. Sam’s kaleidoscopic eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he, too, is panting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, is all she can think, so much for not pushing his boundaries, not rushing his pace. How will you ever look in his eyes again?

“Too much?” And he blinks at her, clearly still processing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I- I didn’t mean-”

But then a hand cups her jaw, warm and big and gentle, pulls her face close to his, and his lips are there, pressed on hers. Y/n’s motionless for just a second- she’s dreamt of this for so long, over a year and a half, and it’s happening in the cheesiest way possible- and Sam is on his knees, weight rested on his other hand, reaching for her, he’s kissing her, and move, dammit, do something! A hand grips his wrist, and she pushes herself closer to him, a huff pushed out of Sam’s nose, and her stomach flips in so many stunning, wonderful ways.

Her legs fall to the side, she meets him half-way and kisses him and Sam follows just as fiercely, falls back on his haunches. His hands push under her shoulders, lift her up onto his lap, grab the back of her knees and pull them around his hips and Y/n goes willingly. She holds the sides of his face carefully and parts her lips, and Sam licks into them with caution, curls his strong arms around her waist and sighs into her mouth.

Y/n pulls away. So much for boundaries.

She blinks down at him. Sam’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, peering up at her then. He waits for her to say something. Fingers push his hair back gently, she nudges her nose with his and smiles.

“I win.” Earning a long, dramatic eye roll.

“I had you in a choke hold with your own arms, Y/n.” and her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. She clicks her tongue.

“Yet here we are,” she whispers, looks down at him and he shakes his head with a sigh. His eyes fall  on her lips once more and he gently chews the inside of his cheek. One large paw cups the side of her head and he kisses her slowly once more before pulling away, thumbing at her cheek.

They smile.

                                                           ****

The sun has descended beneath the horizon, so early it’s kind of comical, but it doesn’t feel like it’s 6 pm anyway, because neither of them has slept at all. Time has lost meaning and form the past two days, everything feels surreal and fake because of the lack of sleep, and now here they are, under warm fairy lights, laying in her bed. There’s been kisses here and there, gently roaming hands, not moving further than that, and again, Y/n doesn’t need anything more. She’s content where she is, surprised she even made it this far. The affection they’ve shared is scarcely fierce and feral, simply quiet, tender, innate. Nothing particularly passionate or aggressive, just warmth and comfort, shielded vulnerability hidden behind brief liplocks. Y/n’s more than okay with it.

She’s laying on his chest, arm around his waist and ear over his heart and they doze together under dim lighting, limbs heavy, hearts feathery light. Sam’s arm falls around her back, pulls her close. She nuzzles his chest.

It’s just so easy to be with him. Around him.

Y/n wonders where they stand after this. If he’ll text her more. If it’ll go back to the occasional long phone call, the random outings because Madison texts him while she’s with Y/n. Will they ever be like this again? How much does she care?

Because, although somewhat pivotal for her view on affection, and tenderness and friendship, ambit stretched now, definitions altered in her mind, she feels that no real barrier has broken, shifted even. They’re still friends. They’re not partners, he’s not her boyfriend and it’s honestly fine. No, really, it is. She’s genuinely okay.

Would she like to see what it’s like to date him? Of course she would. Of course she wants to know what it feels like to know he wants her and only her, wants to know she can hold his hand, can kiss him no matter where they are or with whom, without crossing invisible boundaries tentatively like she did today. Planning dates and late night movie nights and early morning beers with shared drunken kisses.

She just wishes she knew what it’s like to have free access to this sort of affection with someone, and maybe that’s the thing. Sam feels like a good someone to have that with, but at the same time, maybe it’s what he told her on New Year’s and the way he likes to be, maybe it’s the understanding that they’re really not particularly meant to be together, cosmically in love, soulmates, whatever-the-hell, but there’s no dipping of the stomach, no heart rate accelerating, no feeling of being high or drunk. Maybe Y/n just wants someone, anyone to be with, to know she can fall for, and while Sam is warm and funny and familiar and oh so wonderful, while he looks like a great candidate to be in a relationship with, while her heart flips at the possibility of having any semblance of romance in her life, of him in her house, her couch, with her books and his warm hugs, maybe he’d been right. Maybe he knew something too painful to tell her back then, when she confessed her attraction, back when things were raw and bruised and painful to the touch. Sam and her, well… they seem good in theory. They are fun, and safe, they care for one another. They share alcohol bottles easily, common interests, kindness and heeps of love to give. They make sense in a way. But- it’s just not clicking, is it?

This is just… this. Affection for the sake of affection, not romance. And that’s okay to have, more than okay, even. It’s great. It’s comforting. It’s safe, and it’s simple. They can kiss. They can hug. They can cuddle together, and brush each other’s hair away from their faces. Y/n can admire his eyes while he cleans the dishes they ate lunch in. And it can all amount to nothing, without it feeling like band-aids being ripped off bleeding wounds without a warning.

In the words of her mother, why are human relationships so god damn complicated? Why does this one have to be too?

Y/n is content to be in his arms, to philosophically discuss, and open up and talk freely. She’s content with them giggling and wrestling and kissing in between, and they can share their music and their book quotes and their love for one another. It’s just surface level affection. If not surface level, then friendship level. Why is that not enough? Maybe not all relationships have to be tipped in the romantic pink light, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay.

She gazes up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and Sam blinks his lazy, drowsy eyelids open to look down at her sweetly, offers a small and a caress of his hand on her back. And for once, Y/n is completely satisfied with just this, and nothing more.

*****

A/N 2: I reread this and it felt like I reached a conclusion to something gigantic and cosmic, but this seems so simple.  I should know all this by now. *huff*

please tell me what you thought of this!

Forevers:

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ @deanssweetheart23​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @mogaruke​ @superseejay721517​ @lady-hawkguy​ @thosefeelsarereal​ @superwholockmarauder​  @justiceiswater​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @heyitscam99​ @danijimenezv​ @aj-reuth  @unicornblood4ever @mystriee​ @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @superrandomnatural​ @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid​ @novaddictx​ @choosemyname​  @live-like-a-girl​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @bowtomytenderaddiction​  @elara98azalea​ @lemondropirwin​ @emmagolden4118​ @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor​ @paradoxical-sleep​ @narynechan @canwenotdothis​ @suicidepanda07​ @blueaura​

Sam Stuff:

@kymberlytorres​ @theboykingsamwinchester​ @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​  @percywinchester27​

[shadowofthelamp]

More Together

Decided to finish off this thing I started back in Janury in honor of the Carnage trailer. Zadr Venom AU. Yes, Zim is named Doom, because how was I supposed to resist? Likes, replies, and reblogs appreciated!

Rated: T

Warnings: Mild mentions of gore/Venom canon-typical cannibalism, alcohol, and a brief moment where Dib remembers that he likes aliens a lot. 

Wordcount: 1175

In his twenty-four years of life, Dib had seen and been through a lot. He’d been knocked on his ass by more paranormal creatures than he could count, had lost six bs for one reason or another, and had worn his throat out screaming into three different pillows, two of which he’d then torn to shreds.

This, though?

This was new.

His arms rested against a creaking oak banister as a head made of a viscous substance that wasn’t quite black (but it was so deep of a red it may as well have been) settled on his arm, thick strands woven around his bicep underneath his sleeve.  That head had enveloped his entire body, had- had-

God, he could still taste the viscera sliding down his throat, still feel the crunch of skull between his teeth. He reached his free hand up, tugging his top lip up to make sure that he hadn’t grown shark teeth outside of the transformation. The sharpness of his canines wasn’t very encouraging.

There had been rumors of an alien crash. It had been dark, and he’d only had his flashlight and a taser, and yes, it was incredibly stupid, but that was what he did. Went off into dangerous places to prove the unprovable, to capture the uncapturable, to find the truth that no one else could or would. There had been searchlights, and he’d ducked behind a tree and cursed himself for forgetting to charge his phone. A cat had wandered past, and he’d only had seconds to consider how strange its eyes were when the searchlight had flashed on them before something had leapt forward and smothered him, an icy chill sinking through his skin and through muscles and bones to curl around his heart like a fist.

He’d run, ripped up his entire apartment for whatever food he could find, and then had started hearing voices other than his own. That was something he had been certain he’d grown out of, at least outside of hauntings. (Getting kicked out of the kid’s asylum three times meant you were either sane or so round-the-bend nobody could do anything for you anyway.)

An hour later, he’d turned into a monster, ripped a man’s head off, and stuffed it down his throat, so needless to say things had gone rather downhill from there.

The voice had pulled itself out of his skin with ruby pupil-less eyes and the most oil-slick and disgusting head Dib had ever seen, called itself Doom, declared they would be perfect together, and then passed out on his arm, half-sinking back into the skin. Which was where they were now, on the back porch of a bar that Dib had long since learned didn’t ask many questions as long as he paid his tab on time. He was glad he was wearing the trench coat that had both sleeves fully intact to hide his new “friend”, because even apathetic barmen may have been just a bit curious about the literal fucking alien chilling on and squirming under the skin inside a patron’s arm.

The porch had cleared out with the November chill, and Dib swigged a third shot of whiskey to wash the taste of guts from his throat.

“Stop that.” Oh, goody, the eyes were back.

“Stop what?”

“That horrible tasting sludge. I command you!” Dib’s arm jerked. He would have spilled the drink if he hadn’t already finished it, condensation dripping down and flattening a bit of hair on his wrist.

“I needed to-” There were other people staring at him. He narrowed his eyes, snarling, and they quickly looked away. Still, he dialed down the volume. “I needed to get the taste out of my mouth.”

“Intestines taste delicious, that liquid just burns!”

“Intestines taste like- like guts, guts don’t taste good raw!” Dib hissed back.

“They do, your unrefined human palate just has to adjust, then you’ll see.” Doom flopped Dib’s arm around a little more. “You need more muscle, muscle comes from meat!”

“Look, just because protein’s expensive-”

“Eating people is free,” the alien still hanging out on Dib’s arm said smugly, tendrils creeping down Dib’s other arm and shifting around his neck.  

“Eating people’s going to get real expensive if anyone catches us,” Dib said, fighting back his immediate monkey-brain xenophiliac responses to what felt like tentacles caressing his skin, pressing down just hard enough that it was clear Doom was only arguing as a formality and could probably regain control at any time. “Look. It’s not that there aren’t people who don’t deserve-”

“Of course there are! We’re on the same page!” Doom pulled back, reforming next to Dib’s neck, and the man pulled his coat collar up. “There is pain in you, Dib, rejection and fear, but together, we can fix it. Together, we hunt both man and beast-”

“-Sort out the frauds and the stupid cops and people who deserve to be eaten, and manage catch the real things,” Dib muttered as Doom purred, actually nuzzling against him. Like some kind of gooey alien cat.

“Yes, yes, exactly! You have strength and intelligence, I have power beyond your wildest dreams. Humans have rejected you-”

“Thanks a lot, goo-boy,” Dib interjected before Zim continued, one tendril tightening around his thigh as a warning but only drawing a rush of blood to his cheeks.

“-But I have not. On my planet, they misunderstand my genius, but here- here, I can be more. We can be more. You are the only being worthy of me, Dib-human. Be honored!”

There was something to the bright echoey timbre that Doom had that didn’t quite fit the fact that the only solid thing about him (them, it?) were the rows of razor-sharp teeth, but it was rapidly endearing Dib to the alien. Maybe it was the edge from the booze, or maybe that guy they’d ripped to shreds had been running high enough on adrenaline that the hormone was being digested and processed by now and making him go stupid.

“You know what?” Dib licked his lips, getting the last of the whiskey taste out as Doom gagged next to him. “I call the targets.”

“Is that a yes?”

“On a trial basis, understand? I can still find some way to fry you out of me, but I’m not about to look a superpowered gift alien in the mouth. Yet.”

He really hoped that the nip Doom made on his neck was supposed to be playful, but the fact that the alien was rumbling happily and pulsing joy through his body meant it was probably a good bet.

(Dib ended up puking up the whiskey twenty minutes later while Doom alternated cussing at him and crowing about being right. It was only remembering just how strong he’d felt when they’d been together that kept Dib from trying to make him stop with the blowtorch stuffed in the back of his closet.)

[bangtanreadingcorner]

the blind date • kim namjoon

PLOT ─ hoseok sets you up on a blind date with his best friend, namjoon, and it all goes up hill from there.

GENRE ─ college!au

WORDS ─ 6.3k

You attention is drawn to the entrance of the cafe as it opens yet again, your eyes searching for a man fitting the description your friend had given you. Although, right now, you weren’t exactly in the best mood. You didn't want to go on this blind date in the first place, but it was a lot better than trying your hand at it yourself on the internet and potentially getting yourself murdered.

You sighed when you looked the guy over, no way was it that scrawny kid with glasses - although Hoseok did say his friend wears glasses from time to time, according to him his best friend was rather large in form. It's ten minutes past when he should have been here, you see as you clicked the power button on your phone. You heard the bell of the cafe chime but you don't bother looking up, busy unlocking your phone and sending Hoseok a message to tell him that his best friend didn't show up.

Before you could press send, however, someone called your name softly, and it was a little contrasting with his deep voice. You lift your head, eyes scanning over the - admittedly very handsome - man and he ticked all of the mental boxes to the description Hoseok gave you on his friend. He was wearing a light blue polo neck and a pair of denim jeans. What was strange was that he had one arm tucked behind his back while his other was stuffed with books.

You raised an unimpressed brow, handsomeness did not excuse his tardiness. "Namjoon, I assume?"

He nodded, a sheepish grin slipped onto his face, revealing the most adorable pair of dimples. "Guilty as charged. Y/N, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." You nodded back to him, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, is there any particular reason you're late, or are you one of those who thinks it makes you more attractive?"

"What? No!" His eyes widened and you would have found it amusing or maybe even cute. If he wasn't almost twenty minutes late to your blind date. Speaking of, you are never letting Hoseok talk you into anything ever again.

"It's not like that. I just, I got you these." The hand behind his back came out and there was a small bouquet of lilies and lavenders. You felt something inside of you go very gooey like, because those are your favorite flowers. "And I know it might seem old fashioned but Hoseok mentioned that you like flowers and that these are your favorites, so I went by the flower shop three blocks from here but the queue was longer than I expected and then they had to make the bouquet because they didn't have any in this specific arrangement and I am really, really sorry that I'm late."

You stated at him, opened mouthed and a little in shock at the ramble of words that passed his lips so quickly and nervously.

"Well," You cleared your throat. "As far as excuses go, I have to say, that's the best one I've ever heard." When he still remained standing, looking at you unsurely, you gave a small smile. "This date isn't really going to go anywhere if you don't sit down."

"Yeah, okay, right." He mumbled to himself, holding the flowers out to you. You took it with a grin, and couldn't help but smell them. You don't think you've ever gotten flowers from one of your exes. Not even on Valentine's day. This was a nice, refresh change, especially given your love for flowers. He placed the mountain of five books on the table, hands fiddling with them to have an outlet for his nerves. You couldn't help the smile that spread on your lips.

"What can I get you today?" A waitress asked as she stepped up to you, handing menu's to the both of you.

"Chocolate milkshake for me, thanks." You told her, and you looked at Namjoon.

"I'll have a iced coffee, please." Namjoon smiled at her and you could see the girl swooning a bit. Not that you blamed her, those dimples are killer. Still, this is your date, so you cleared your throat lightly.

"Right," The girl snapped out of it, cheeks reddening a bit at being caught. "Anything to eat?"

"Uh, I'm not really hungry right now." You look at your date. "You want anything?"

"I, um, I'm," He stammered a bit. "Yeah. Actually. Would that be okay? Some people say it's awkward when you eat on a date but the other person isn't, but I've been studying all morning because I was really nervous and I forgot to eat, so it just sort of caught up to me now."

You smiled, not being able to help yourself, his rambles are cute. "Not awkward at all. Knock yourself out."

"Thanks." Namjoon smiled gratefully at you and your stomach flipped, cheeks heating up. He turned back to the waitress and placed his order. Then he turned back to you. "Sorry, I know this isn't exactly an ideal date. I was late and showed up with a bunch of my books."

"Yeah, but you're cute and you had a really good reason for being late, so I don't mind." You smile widened when you saw the tips of his ears turning red. "Plus, you didn't make a comment about my choice of drink, a definite plus for you."

Namjoon frowned, "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, nothing for me, but so many guys has said to me that it's not healthy and I need to be careful of to many sweet things because I can get fat." You rolled your eyes.

"That's . . . stupid."

"Yeah, tell me about it." You snorted. Not really wanting to delve any further into your other dates in front of this beautiful man, you changed the topic. "So, Hoseok tells me you want to be a Marine Biologist."

"Yeah," Namjoon nodded, his eyes lighting up at the thought. "I mean, I like all kinds of creatures and animals, but I've always loved Marine life."

"That's so cool." You couldn't help but gush, excitement coming easy for you due to your love of the ocean or just anything to do with the outdoors, really. "Do you want to work out on the ocean or in aquarium?"

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Right now getting my degree is my number one priority." He gave a little chuckle as the waitress comes along with your drinks.

"I hear you, man, I mean, I know most people think that we dance students don't put a lot of work in, but they really don't know shit." You took a sip of your milkshake before you could say something really mean. Like what you think of those judging pricks.

"I get it, I really do. I've known Hoseok since high school, and I know how many hours he puts into getting choreography just right and perfect. You guys have your struggles just like we do."

"Exactly!" You couldn't help but exclaim, feeling like something was lifted from your chest because, finally, someone else gets it. "And you should hear my parents. They do not approve, like, at all. Always telling me how dancing isn't going to be enough for me to live on and I should have gone into law, so I could take over their business and ugh, it's just so frustrating."

"Sorry." He gave you an apologetic look.

"Why?" You gave smile a little smile. "It's not your fault. Anyways, what about your parents?"

"They approve of my choice, supporting me all the way and in anyway they can. But I can tell they sometimes worry that it's to much for me. Maintaining a scholarship is not easy." Namjoon told you, rubbing his neck as he spoke.

"Wow, they must be so proud of you." You stated at him in awe, respect towards him forming inside.

"I'd like to think they are." Namjoon smiled, eyes lighting up when the waitress arrived with his food. He looked at you, "You can have half, if you'd like?"

"No, thanks." You denied, looking at the large burger and fries. "I might steal some of your fries, though."

He pushed his plate closer with a smile. "Feel free."

The rest of the date went by a lot quicker than either of you would have liked. Before you knew it, you two were standing outside the cafe, bill split in two, and ready to go your separate ways.

"I really enjoyed this." You said, smiling up at him, because wow, he is tall. You also wanted to prolong this for a few more seconds.

"Yeah, me too." He was smiling, too, and you hoped it was because he liked this date as much as you did.

You two stood there for a while, just looking at each other, smiles slowly fading, nerves rising between you. Until you both spoke at once.

"Do you maybe want to go out again?"

"Would it be okay to ask for your number?"

You two burst out into laughter, and even when you calmed down, you smiled so hard, your cheeks hurt. "I'd love to go out with you again."

"You can have my number." Namjoon nodded with a happy smile, those dimples were really making you weak. "On one condition." He added.

You raised a brow, "And what's that?"

"You have to give me yours, too."

You laughed, head thrown back as a giddy feeing spread through you. You looked back at him, stomach fluttering. "Deal."

* * *

"So, how was it?"

"Did you get laid?"

You looked at your two friends, head moving from one to the other, who pounced on you the moment you set foot in the dancing studio. You gave them a look of disbelief.

"Okay, first of all, no, Jimin, I didn't get laid. Second of all, isn't Namjoon your roommate and best friend, Hoseok? And third of all, Jesus Christ, you two are nosey."

Hoseok pouted, "Yeah but he wouldn't say anything other than that it went well."

"It did go well." You confirmed, smiling as a warm feeling spread through your chest as you thought of Namjoon. You guys have been texting all weekend and this morning he sent you a heart eyes emoji at the end of his good morning text. That was good, right?

"Come on, I want details. I was the one who set you up, I deserve details." Hoseok whined.

"Nope." You sing-songed with a grin.

Jimin was pouting as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm not telling you about any of my dates ever again."

You smirk, "Does that mean you've finally done something about your gigantic crush on Jungkook?"

"No, and I'm not going to until he's eighteen." Jimin repeats for what seems like the hundredth time.

"And then you're going to jump his bones." Hoseok said with a wide smile.

"A whole two years more of celibacy. Well, technically a year and a few months. You know, I'm really starting to respect you for holding out that long." You noted matter of factly, then you smirked. "Poor Jungkook isn't going to know what hit him."

"Why would you even think that?" Jimin whined, cheek going a hilarious shade of red.

"Because one, we've seen him before. And two, we've seen how you look at him." You reminded Jimin. Jungkook has come to see a few times at the studio and you and Hoseok never let him forget it.

Jimin narrowed his eyes at you, "He's like, four years younger than you."

"Three years." You corrected with a concealed smirk, loving how you were getting underneath Jimin's skin. "And age is just a number." Hoseok sniggers next to you.

"Yeah," Jimin grumbled. "I'll remind you of that when they lock you up for going after someone who's still underage."

"Nah, I got someone else in mind." You told Jimin honestly, just now he stresses himself into a stroke because of your teasing.

Hoseok perked up at this, "Is this someone maybe named Namjoon?"

You rolled your eyes, but let out a resigned sigh. These two weren't gonna let up until you told them. "Yes, as matter of fact, the someone is named Namjoon. You happy?"

"Not yet." Hoseok shook his head, curious smile on his face. "What did you do?"

"We both went to the cafe you said, although he was twenty minutes late at first because he brought me flowers and the queue at the flower shop was long, and I ordered a chocolate milkshake and he ordered an iced coffee with a large burger and fries. We talked and figured that if we can have this much fun in a cafe, we might as well do it again. The end." You walked past Jimin and Hoseok, who were both gaping at you. The followed after you, both with excited looks on their faces.

Hoseok was practically jumping with excitement, "Does this mean you're going out again?"

"Yeah, this Saturday." You nodded, heading towards the equipment room, where everything from students' bags to mats and old mirrors were stored.

"Where are you going?" Jimin asked, evidently just as excited as Hoseok about this.

"Dinner and a movie." You said, feeling a lot more excited by something so simple than you normally did.

"That's so cliché. And cute." Jimin grinned.

"Thanks." You grinned, knowing that he didn't mean anything by it.

"You know, I have this big urge to rub both your noses in the fact that this is actually working." Hoseok commented.

"How's that?" You asked, bending your upper body to the floor and stretching your hands to your feet.

"Because neither of you thought the blind date would go anywhere." His voice was a little smug.

"It hasn't gone anywhere yet. This is literally just our second date." You rolled your eyes. "But we have been texting all weekend and he sent me a good morning text."

Jimin gasped, "That's so cute, I want someone to do that for me."

"Don't worry, Jimin, we'll get Namjoon to house train Jungkook." Hoseok quipped just as you switched to the other leg.

Laughter burst out of you before you could stop it, and a glance at Jimin's once again bright red face only made you laugh harder.

* * *

It was deadly silent between you and Namjoon as you walked out of the cinema. Finally you couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry but," You started, laughing a little. "That was one of the worst romantic comedies I have ever seen."

"Oh thank God," He breathed in relief. "I thought it was just me."

"Nope, that was such bullshit. She chose her childhood bully? Okay, I can see the appeal of someone becoming a better person, but really? She'd have been better off with the post boy that gave her advice."

"I know right." Namjoon grinned, moving his hands a little as he spoke. "I'm surprised she didn't need years of therapy after everything he did to her."

You snort, humming in agreement. "Especially that humiliation by dumping ice cream on her head. You know what, I think he needs therapy too. That was such a waste of perfectly good ice cream. What on earth did his mother teach him?"

"I feel worse for the best friends though. You could see that they really liked each other, but never did anything because the two main characters had the whole rivalry thing going on. Which turned out to be some really backwards courting." He said with a light frown.

You nodded, "Yeah it was kind of shitty that they left that opened ended, but I get it. That might just be the most realistic part of the movie."

“A sequel about them might be nice.” Namjoon said and you nodded.

You looked down at his hand, wondering it was to soon to hold it. Then you decided to just go for it. No one ever got anywhere by being scared anyways. So, you took his hand, holding your breath until he moved his hand a little to lace your fingers together. You looked up at him, returning the shy smile he gave you.

Your stomach was feeling fluttery and your heart beat just a fit faster than normal.

"Hey, do you want ice cream? All that ice cream in the movie has given me a craving."

Namjoon nodded, "Sure. I think there's an ice cream shop in the food court."

You two walked to the food court, chattering about this and that, entwined hands swinging lightly between you.

* * *

"So, how do you feel about the aquarium?" Namjoon asked when you two were eating lunch that next Tuesday. It is the first time you two has seen each other since your movie date the previous Saturday.

"Uh..."

His smile dimmed a little, "It's okay if you don't like it, I was just asking."

"No, no, it's not that." You were quick to assure him.

"Y/N, it's really okay. I was just asking." Namjoon placed a hand on yours, squeezing to assure you.

"It's not that. Seriously. I just - and you're not allowed to laugh at me, okay? - but I haven't been to an aquarium since I was like a really tiny kid. And I don't really know much except the obvious." You were the one to ramble for once.

"Okay, that's not a problem. I know enough for both of us." Namjoon smiled brightly at you. "So, do you want to go on Saturday? With me?"

"Can we do it on Friday, instead? Jimin has been on my ass because I haven't been out with him and Taehyung in weeks."

"Yeah, sure." Namjoon nodded, still smiling, but looking a little unsure. "So, how did you and Jimin become friends? I think Hobi's mention him before, he dances with you guys, right?"

“Yup.” You nodded, smiling at the memory of meeting Jimin. “We met at the beginning of the year. See, I was put in school by my over enthusiastic parents a year early, so I graduated a year early. Most people in my classes are a year older than me, and when Jimin came in this year, it turned out that we were the same age and we kind of bonded over that. And with Jimin comes Taehyung, they're like a package deal. Just don't ever ask them if they're a thing because I made that mistake once and never again."

"So, are they?" Namjoon frowned. "A thing, I mean."

"Nope, but they are platonic soulmates and there is a whole discussion about it that you are welcome to enter with them as long as I'm not anywhere near." You told him. "And Jimin is in love with this high school junior who is really shy but really cute, and Taehyung has a lot of girlfriends. Not in the more than one at a time kind, more like a new one each time you see him. Anytime someone asks him about it, all he says is that he’s a very passionate person, but he never hurts them, so I mind my own business."

"Sounds nice." He commented.

"It is and they are." You grinned as an idea suddenly hit you. "Do you want to meet them?"

"What?"

"Yeah, like meet my friends. You can bring Hoseok and your other friends too."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely. It'll be fun." You clapped your hands in excitement.

"Okay."

* * *

"I can not, for the life of me, understand why either of you are so interested in my love life." You deadpanned, shaking your head at Hoseok and Jimin - the three of you laying down on the dance floor, sweaty and breathless.

"Because Namjoon won't tell me anything." Hoseok whined, passing the water bottle to Jimin.

"And I'm tragically single, so I have to live through you." Jimin added before gulping down water.

You sighed, "What do you want to know?"

"I heard that you two ate lunch together yesterday, is it true?" Hoseok asked, wide smile on his face.

You frowned at him, "How do you- you know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. Yes, it's true. And he asked me out again." By the time you were finished talking, your smile matched Hoseok's.

"Nice," Jimin handed the bottle to Hoseok, who handed it to you. "Where's he taking you?"

"The aquarium." You answered dutifully, gulping down some of the water.

Hoseok tensed next to you, sitting up right, you and Jimin following suit. "Uh, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, don't get me wrong, or anything but Namjoon can get a little overexcited when near anything with marine life."

"I don't understand what you mean." You frowned, a little confused.

"Well, he's a genius. Like, literally. He remembers nearly anything he reads and he reads a lot about marine biology. And he will most likely talk your ears off about anything he sees." Hoseok said, biting his lip. "Most people don't like it, or they find it rude because he talks to much. It's why his last girlfriend broke up with him, she said he talks more about it than her."

"Isn't that's kind of the point of going on dates? To get to know someone and decide from there if you like them and want to know more." You asked, shrugging a little.

"Yeah," Hoseok smiled widely, clearly relieved. "Yeah, it is."

Jimin looked at you with a smirk, "Does this mean you like him already?"

"Oh, piss off." You groaned as Jimin and Hoseok burst out laughing.

* * *

"Are you sure this is okay?" Namjoon asked as the two of you stood in line to buy your tickets to enter the aquarium the next Saturday. He was wearing a loose grey v-neck with a pair of black skinny jeans and more than once had your attention been drawn down to his long legs ever since he showed up in front of your dorm room. He had enveloped you in a tight hug, the moment you opened the door and didn't let go until your phone dinged, signaling your Uber arrived. You liked it very much.

The question made you look at him with a light frown, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Most people wouldn't really think of an aquarium as a date location." Namjoon said, looking a little put off by that fact.

"You bring all the girl's here then?" You teased, wanting him to relax a little, but all it did was make him tense up even more.

"No. Well, I guess, but not in the way you think. I mean, I did take my last girlfriend out to one but that was just to show her what I'm passionate about. I just," He stumbled over his words, not sure how to phrase it. "It's not something I use to get girls. It usually scares them off, as a matter of fact."

"So, you're trying to scare me off, huh?" You couldn't help your dry tone, mostly teasing but a smidgen of worry climbed into your heart.

His eyes widened, panicking a little. "No, no, that's not what I'm trying to do."

"Really?" You asked, an unexpected surge of hope going through you.

"Yeah, really. Look, I like you. And I just thought that I need you to know this side of me before I can like you even more and you end up getting scared off by it." Namjoon told you and to stared at him, stunned.

Then you smiled and blurted, "I like you too."

"Good, that's really good." He sighed in relief.

"Also, if I didn't want to come, I wouldn't have. Nobody can make me do anything I don't want to." You tell him, smiling when his shoulders finally relaxed.

You two buy your entrance tickets and go inside and just like Hoseok said, Namjoon starts talking your ear off about most of the marine animals you come across, but instead of feeling annoyed or irritated, you just feel an enormous amount of fondness. Which was a little surprising. And every time he turns to look at you, that sparkle in his eyes, your hearts speeds up a little and your stomach flip-flops pleasantly.

"So, why dancing?" Namjoon asked out of the blue, when you guys made your way to the outdoors food court at lunch time.

You looked at him in surprise, this was the first time that he's said something that wasn't marine related. Not that you minded. He has a really soothing voice, very nice to listen too. You took a deep breath, "Ever since I was little, I've loved to dance. I just, I would hear a beat and my body would move with it. I decided pretty young on that I want to spend my whole life doing this. My parents always hoped that I would grow out of it, they never approved because it's not a proper career. We had a big fight when I left last year and I haven't spoken to them ever since. But it's my passion, it's what I love. I have hope though, that one day they'll accept it. They haven't cut me off yet and they are still paying my tuition, so I guess they don't completely hate me."

"That's rough." He said sympathetically as you two walked to a food truck. The conversation between you comes to a halt while you order and wait for your food. When you're seated at a picnic table, across from each other, Namjoon says, "You know, they're your parents, they could never hate you."

"Okay, yeah, maybe not hate." You agreed with a nod. "But they’re definitely disappointed."

"I don't know why though. I can't talk about your dancing, because I've never seen you dance, although Hoseok is always full of praises and awe, but you as a person, I do know. Kind of. And you are one of the best people I've ever met and they should be proud of who they raised."

"Thanks, Namjoon, that's really sweet and I wish it was that simple, but unfortunately it's not." You smile at him, a little sad.

"Why can't it be?" He asked, and you can tell he's a little confused.

"My family, uh, how to phrase this without sounding arrogant?" You give a humorless chuckle, deciding to just say it. "They're rich. Really rich. My parents owns one of the biggest law firms in the country and I am an only child. I was supposed to take the reins over from them, but I've never wanted to do that and if they haven't forgiven me by now, I don't think they're gonna do it anytime soon."

Namjoon's expression falls a little during your explanation, but you don't notice, keeping our eyes down cast on your meal.

"I don't know what to say." He admitted, voice soft and gentle. "I do hope it gets better though."

"Thanks." You look up from your food to smile at him. "Sorry, this isn't exactly second date conversation material."

He raises a brow, "Oh yeah, and what exactly does the dating manual say when is the right time to talk about what?"

You can tell by his tone that he's teasing and it works because a smile breaks through on the corners of your lips. "Fair enough."

After that, you notice that Namjoon has become more subdued. It gets a little better once you're back inside the aquarium and he's telling you all sorts of facts about sharks and stingrays, but some of the shine of the sparkle in his eyes has definitely dimmed. It isn't until he has walked you all the way up to your dorm that you ask him about it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Namjoon gives you a smile and you see right through. It terrifies you a little, how much you know of him after just two dates. "I just don't think we should see each other again."

Your stomach drops, so does your entire face. It feels like someone knocked the wind from you.

"Why?" Your voice is surprisingly steady, not showing any of what you are feeling.

"Hoseok must have not told you, but I'm not like you. I don't come from money. My parents works hard to make ends meet and to take care of my siblings. I am here on a scholarship and I have a shitty job at an ice cream parlor. We don't fit, Y/N."

You look at him like he's grown a second head, "Who the fuck even cares about that stuff?"

"Your parents do, remember." He says, giving you a pointed look and reminding you of your conversation earlier that day.

"I don't care!" You voice raises a little and you take a breath to calm down. "It's my life and I get to choose and I choose you."

Before he can go on any further, you stand on your tiptoes and pull him down by the neck to kiss him. He doesn't hesitate to kiss back and you melt against him when he wraps his arms around you. He pulls away first, both of you are breathless and you feel like you might float away if it wasn't for his hold on you.

He whispers your name and you just know that you're going to fall in love with him. If you haven't started too already.

* * *

The next day it was the big day. Okay, maybe it's not that big of a deal, but it's been a while since you've introduced someone to your friends and strangely you don't remember ever being this nervous about it.

"It's going to be fine." You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror one last time before grabbing your jacket and leaving your dorm. You all but skip down the stairs and then quickly make your way to the nearest bar where you, Jimin and Taehyung usually hung out. It wasn't to far the dorms and it wasn't expensive either - the perfect place for broke students to hang out. You smile widely when you see Namjoon waiting for you outside, like the gentleman that he is. He hasn't noticed you yet and you decide to look him over. Maroon button up, tucked into a pair of dark grey form fitting jeans with a pair of sneakers. As you neared him, you let out a wolf whistle.

His head, along with a few others who were loitering outside the bar, turned to you and you watched as a smile lit up his face. You stopped in front of him, grinning, "You look hot."

"Thank you." He ducked his head, smile turning sheepish as his ears burned. You barely resisted the urge to coo at him. "You look very pretty. I mean, beautiful."

"Thank you." You returned the sentiment with a light chuckle. "Come on, let's go inside before Taehyung comes out here." You smiled at him, taking his hand, warmth making your heart beat spread up a bit when he laced your fingers and squeezed your hand.

Inside, you were tackled into a hug. You let go of Namjoon's hand to hug back, laughing at your hyper friend. "Nice to see you, too, Tae."

"I missed you, it's been a while." He said, pulling away from you and stepping right in front of Namjoon. You resisted the urge to facepalm because while they are almost the same height, Namjoon is like twice Taehyung's size. "You hurt her, I hurt you."

"I'll let you." Namjoon said, expression unwavering as he didn't brake Taehyung's stare.

Finally, Taehyung grinned. "In that case, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Taehyung."

Namjoon cracked a smile and relaxed, "I'm Namjoon."

"Oh, I know." Taehyung quipped with a smirk. "I heard all about you from Jimin, who heard all about you from our dearest Y/N here."

"Shut up, Tae." You groaned, cheeks burning, grabbing Namjoon's hand and looking around the bar, sighing in relief as you spotted Jimin and Hoseok, pulling Namjoon along with you.

"So, you talk about me?" Namjoon asked, a slight smirk on his lips.

Ignoring your burning cheeks, you gave him a deadpan look. "I like you. Is it really that much of a surprise to you that I talk to my friends about you?"

"No," He shook his head. "I do it too."

"Then why is Hoseok always complaining that you never tell him anything?" You retorted with a raised eyebrow.

He snorted, "Because I don't tell him. I love him, don't get me wrong, but he knows you and he is terrible at keeping things to himself."

"Y/N! Namjoon!" A familiar voice exclaimed.

"Speak of the angel..." You sing-songed. "Hey Hoseok."

"Hey." He was grinning, like always, and fixed his gaze on Namjoon. "The guys are already here. I mean, my friends is your friends, so I just joined everyone together."

Next to you, Namjoon looked highly amused. "How many drinks have you had already?"

"Not much." He said and that's when you saw it. The flushed cheeks plus the drink in his hands. "I just got a few shots from some of my other friends from other facilities."

"Uh-huh." Namjoon nodded disbelievingly.

You arrive at the table, Jimin standing to give you a hug as Taehyung sat down next to a girl. You smiled at her, "You must be Hye-ji."

She frowned at you, "No, I'm Yeona."

“Oh, I'm sorry.” You grinned apologetically, elbowing Jimin, who was snickering next to you. You lowered your voice to a whisper as you glared at him, "I thought the latest one was Hye-ji."

"It was, they split two days ago because she hates cats." Jimin was still snickering, so you elbowed him again.

"Jesus Christ." You muttered and glared at a smirking Taehyung.

Shaking it off, you looked at the four new faces at the table, who must have been Namjoon's friends. You smiled at them, waving. "Hi, I'm Y/N."

Namjoon took a step forward. "Well, these are my friends, Jin, Yoongi, Jackson, Mark and you already know Hoseok."

"Nice to meet all of you." You said, hoping that they'd like you.

Two hours later, it certainly seemed like your friends getting along perfectly – the alcohol was definitely helping. You and Namjoon were sitting next to each other, holding hands. You were giggling, well on your way to tipsy, as Jimin, who sat on your other side, told the story of how you and Taehyung got stuck in an elevator together a few weeks ago. It was just before you met Namjoon.

"It's wasn't my fault." Taehyung pouted.

"Rightttt." You drawled. "Because it was me who wanted to see what happened when you press every single button at once, even the emergency one."

"What can I say, I'm curious by nature." He smiled and you scoffed.

"I should have taken the stairs with Jimin." You said, leaning against Namjoon as the rest of them laughed.

"Why didn't Jimin take the elevator?" Namjoon asked, his hot breath hitting your ear and neck. A shiver climbed up your spine and you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling hot all over.

"He's afraid of elevators." You answered, turning to Namjoon and noticed how the space between you wasn't much.

"Why?" He asked, wetting his lips with his tongue. You're eyes followed the motion.

"I don't know," You answered distractedly, leaning closer and closer. "He didn't want to talk about it when I asked."

Namjoon's lips were just in your reach, when suddenly icy cold went down your back.

You reared back from Namjoon with a loud yelped, "Jesus, fuck. Park Jimin, I'm going to kill you."

You pulled your shirt away from your back, shaking out the ice cubes he poured down your back. You could hear the laughed from the rest of the table and if it happened to someone else, you might have found it funny too.

Jimin, the idiot, was smirking at you. "I thought you might want to cool off a bit."

"Oh, fuck off." You scowled, grabbing one of the stray ice cubes and launching it at his forehead.

Later that night, Namjoon was walking you back to your dorm, both of you a little tipsy, but not drunk. Your hands were joint and swinging between you as you walked, the cool night air heaven against your warm skin.

"So, that went well, don't you think?" You grinned at him, completely giddy.

"Yeah, very well." He agreed, smile matching yours.

You hummed happily, mind bringing up something you’ve been thinking about earlier that day while you worked on some projects while doing laundry in-between. "Have you ever been ice-skating? I was thinking that we could go for our next date."

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He blurted suddenly and you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with wide eyes. It took you a second to decide.

"Yes." You nodded, no hesitation in your tone as you leaned forward to do what you've been wanting to do all evening. You kissed him, and he kissed back, long and deep.

"I could get used to that." You murmured when you pulled apart, out of breath, heart thumping wildly in your chest.

"Me too." He said, both of you smiling widely.

You realized that for the first time in a long while, you weren't just happy or content with life, you were euphoric. And it was all thanks to this man in front of you.

“So, ice-skating?” You asked, still holding hands with your new boyfriend. Boyfriend. It made you want to squeal out loud.

“We could try.” Namjoon nodded, grin matching yours.

You two start walking again, sometimes chattering, sometimes silent, but always happy to be around each other. You look up at the night sky.

The stars was gleaming above, you knew, even though you couldn’t see them because of the city lights. Just like you knew your and Namjoon’s relationship could only get better from here.

the end.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I A VENOMOUS INTERLUDE

Did y'all know symbrock is canon? Well, now you do. Reader's favourite deadbeat surrogate uncle is in town and he brought a... Friend. No warnings, just a boatload of crack and fluff, as usual. Reader being mouthy. Takes place a little bit into the future - around after chapter 32: spoiler alert is useless because we already know a tonybrucestrange/reader quartet is the endgame. 💖💝✨

"What," I had to pause for a second for my brain to catch up with my eyes. "The fuck?!"

It was truly a miracle I could say anything out loud, at all. Words weren't valid enough to describe my shock and confusion. The scene unfolding in front of me resembled and unholy cross between a B-rated horror movies about demonic possession and some deep-sea Eldritch monstrosity.

The eight-feet tall black, oozing dude in front of me? Yes, you, with the teeth. Ctulhu called, he wants his tentacles back.

The creature honest to god rippled, like some nightmare-fuel goth Jell-O, rapidly shrinking in size within seconds. As more of the black tar-like substance receded, a much more human form started to appear under it. Worn jeans, leather jacket, ungroomed beard and the look of a biker gang member coming off a serious bender.

"Uh, Princess?"

"Eddie. Fucking. Brock. Uncle Idiot." I punctuated each word with an increasing widening of my eyes. The world was fucking nuts. Two and two did not compute - Eddie might have looked threatening to some people - like white suburban Karens - even without the... Gooey squid-on-steroids thing he had going on. The man was built like a fucking brick shithouse, but I knew him way too well. Eddie couldn't be that badass to save a life.

"You two know each other?" Tony shrieked indignantly, a coarseness in his voice that indicated only one thing: my boo was well into his third drink. Hell, I didn't blame him - that gaping toothy maw was fucking gnarly.

Hands on my hips, I caught myself slipping into a mute rage, storming over to the 200lbs worth of pure dumbass and knocking him right in the face. "You! Didn't tell! ME!" A black tendril wrapped around my wrist, carefully but firmly securing it and preventing me from causing my non-related uncle any more physical damage. Although I must admit, my knuckles probably were more affected than his jaw. "You! Are! A MUTANT!!! HOW COULD YOU?! How could you NOT tell ME?"

I trusted the man with my soul and most embarrassing drinking stories. Hell, I called Eddie in a stoned haze the very same night I lost my v-card. I just thought we were bros, you know? I saw his whole fucking life implode more than once and personally flew to California to ice his injuries and his hurt ego countless times. I was done dirty in the worst way.

"I'm not-" Eddie's sigh was long-suffering. "I, uh, I have a parasite..." He sounded meek, in the same way he used to describe his drunkenly misconduct when I made our family driver bail out his ass outta jail in the morning.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" A deep gravelly voice thundered, seemingly coming out of his chest?

"Okay, okay," Eddie smiled. It was strangely soft and un-eddie-like. The only person he smiled like that was... used to be Anne. "This is Venom. They're an alien and we're, uh, a thing. It's a recent development." The tentacle unwrapped itself from me as I took an involuntary step back.

Even barring the fact that Eddie was dating an alien, this was way too fucking weird for 3 o'clock on a Sunday. I always knew the reporter was, for the lack of a better word, a little weird but he really took it to new heights. With Thor and Loki looking... Like that, I could see a human dating some sort of a hot alien. But with Ctulhu looking the way he did just minutes ago? Did Eddie seriously let all of those teeth in close proximity of his dick?

I had a "ERROR 404, common sense not found" hanging over me for the longest time. The others were quiet behind me, too, even Tony - one of my boyfriends, the most likely to cause utter chaos, was hanging back and expecting me to do something.

"Venom," I clarified, just to fill the silence with some noise while my brain processors re-synced.

"WE ARE VENOM." The tentacle that was sleek and black now had two completely white eyes and a smaller-scale version of the toothy grin that had drooled all over the common room carpet. Their voice had an interesting effect: it was so deep, the air around them vibrated slightly when they spoke.

I tilted my head examining the appendage. It was considerably less terrifying when it wasn't five times my size. "What are you?" And most importantly, are you a threat to my favourite non-related family member? I left that statement unspoken although it was obvious I was ready to fight it? Them? If need be.

"A SYMBIOTE," They replied, swaying the head-tentacle slowly. "WE LOVE EDDIE AND KEEP HIM ALIVE AND HEALTHY." So, they understood the actual question.

"Which is fucked up because Klyntar usually behave in the opposite way." Hearing Thor swear was, perhaps, even more unsettling than finding out about the symbiote-alien-boyfriend thing my uncle had going on. The thunderer himself was nursing a jug of golden liquid. The good Asgardian stuff, he must've been really fucking bamboozled.

"Okay. So anybody wanna fill me on the details before I beat up my favourite idiot?" I sighed, pointedly looking at Tony.

"I thought I was your favourite idiot!" He immediately retorted, hurt, but nonetheless opened his arms to give me a grounding embrace. We may have sucked face for a few seconds, because why the hell not, Tony was an amazing kisser and his tongue down my throat was very calming.

"Hold up, what the fuck?" Now it was Eddie's turn to act all offended. "Aren't you a little too young for him?"

"You and your most likely carnivorous goth space pudding can fuck right off if you're not going to be supportive of my very inappropriate, very polyamorous relationship with three incredibly hot boomers," I shot back, slipping into some resemblance of normalcy. Me and Eddie go way, way back and shitting on each other's bad life decisions was the founding stone of our bromance. Hell, he was the guy who showed me the wonders of sarcasm at an early age! Wonderbaum!

"There's three of them?" Eddie's voice pitched and he gaped, palming his face.

"SHE HAS A POINT, EDDIE. WE EAT PEOPLE. BEING UNSUPPORTIVE WOULD MAKE US LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE." Eddie's buddy stated, sounding almost fed up. So, they were sentient enough to recognize how much of a pain in the ass Eddie could be. I could work with that, disregarding the cannibalism comment, of course. What the fuck was up with that?

"Yes, Eddie, I also periodically bump uglies and trade disgustingly sweet text messages with the Hulk and a badass wizard," I rolled my eyes at the reporter's following gasp and angry muttering. "Venom, I like you."

"WE RETURN THE SENTIMENT. YOUR CHOICE IN MATES IS VERY WISE, CONSIDERING YOU ARE A WEAK MORSEL. THEY CAN PROTECT YOU."

"Shut up, Squid. I'll still kick your motherfucking ass if you hurt Eddie."

The emo space goo laughed, a terse scratching noise, showing way, way too many teeth for me to feel comfortable but I allowed myself to be placed on the couch between Tony and Eddie nonetheless. The initial shock of seeing a talking octopod with fangs passed quickly - I've seen Stephen's "trophies" he brought from his otherworldly journeys and Lovecraftian horrors were, honestly, pretty low on the gross/creepy scale.

"Both of you, explain. For the love of fuck," Tony sighed, emotionally exhausted and drained of his usual bravado.

"Eddie was my dad's friend until he moved to Cali, I've know him for fifteen years, give or take. He taught me how to ride a bike and bake the best pot brownies," I shrugged. There wasn't much to say. "I visited him whenever I could but you know, with school and then you guys, there wasn't that much time to iron out the details." I have Eddie a death glare, pointing to Venom's floaty head with my eyes.

Eddie nodded. "What she said..." And then launched an elaborate tale about some company called Life Foundation, some evil dude named Drake and his own alien pudding named Carnage, who was one ugly motherfucker judging by Eddie's and Venom's combined "ew" face, their aching need for human brains to survive and other, more trivial things, like mental breakdowns in a lobster tank and getting dumped by a fiancé and eating their way through a HYDRA base after being captured and tortured. What a wild fucking ride.

"Sounds like you had a rough year," Everybody's dumbfounded silence was ended by Tony who took a slow swig of his whiskey before speaking.

"Yeah, no shit," Eddie muttered, twisting his black coated fingers in elaborate but frankly pretty shapes. His alien wrapped around his neck like a tube scarf and additional tentacles appeared between Eddie's hands, gently prying them open and enveloping them in a sort of a hug? It was hard to compute, the black mass appeared to be totally amorphous.

"How's your anxiety?" I asked, damn well knowing Eddie's mind tended to run like Tony's: zero to sixty in point five with no clear destination. Having an alien inside of him must've really thrown Eddie for a loop.

"It's, uh, better. Venom helps," The reporter admitted, still staring at his hands but the crease between his brows had disappeared and the expression he wore was kind of fond.

"Good. You know, Venom," I thoughtfully addressed the definitely sentient creature. "Eddie is a bigger dumbass than me, which is saying something. You ought to keep a really close eye on him. If not for me, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning, like, years ago."

"WE ARE AWARE. WE CAN ACCESS EDDIE'S MEMORIES." A head manifested itself on a thicker tentacle, floating over to look me in the face but maintaining a respectful distance and staying out of my personal space bubble. "AND WE ARE THANKFUL. EDDIE IS THE PERFECT HOST. WE LOVE EDDIE."

I felt the corner of my mouth tilt upwards at the alien's proclamation. It was child-like in its blunt honesty but carried a certain weight with it. It told me whoever tries to separate those two in any way would get eaten faster than they could say "SIKE!". And honestly? I would help Venom hide the evidence.

"I literally had you for thirty minutes but I would kill everybody and then myself if you two got hurt. This is too soft, I can't." I snorted, extending a curious hand towards Venom. They looked so shiny. I had to touch them.

And they let me. Venom butted their head into my palm and let me gently run my fingers over their slightly cool, slippery flesh. It felt like putting my hands on a surprisingly sturdy yet bouncy piece of flubber. I purposely avoided the small maw and the endless rows of sharp teeth but managed to accidentally brush against something rough and scratchy - as it turned out, the Symbiote had a very long, very dexterous tongue. And didn't that give me a bunch of interesting mental images.

"Oh my God, NO!" Wanda moaned from somewhere, the voice mortified and disgusted.

"Why are you touching the people-eating alien?" Bruce yelped, entering the room with several people in tow. The scientist looked worried, a little bit green around the edges. The tablet in his hands beeped periodically, signifying the ongoing sciencing bender he was in process of.

"WE WOULD NOT EAT THIS HUMAN. WE ARE FOND OF THE MORSEL." Venom defended, well, venomously. Eddie wisely choose to stay silent, trading a knowing look with Tony.

Stephen Strange sighed, briefly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with a jagged movement. "One day, Princess, one day you will stop collecting people that are obviously bad for your health and your future. That, or space in the tower will simply run out." With a deeper, calmer sigh, the sorcerer landed in front of me on the floor, sitting cross-legged and subtly begging for a head scratch. Which meant just placing his always neatly trimmed curls under my free hand. His jealousy was about as subtle as a foot in the face.

"I'll just ask Tony to build more floors, duh," I rolled my eyes with force at the obvious solution, giving into Steph's demands, beginning to card through his hair. It was calming both of us, really.

Bruce came over to give me a kiss and my other boyfriends didn't even grumble about the scientist placing himself in my lap, crawling over both Tony and Stephen to get comfortable.

Our dynamic was unconventional and more than a little weird, but it worked for us and the rest of the team most certainly didn't complain about the vast decrease in conflict that came with the territory. Come to think of it, all of us were more tactile than just a group of friends sharing a house and I was very much on board with that. None of us except select few (looking at you, mister doctor) were hugged enough as children and we were making up for it in spades right fucking now.

"Girl has a type," Wanda remarked, like the messy little shit she was. I stuck out my tongue in retaliation.

The Avengers' brain trust began talking about Venom's slightly inconvenient diet that directly resulted in multiple felonies for one Edward Brock, and as much as I tried to follow the flow and make my own, however feeble, contributions to the scientific side of the conversation, the new life form was much more interesting. I asked Venom several questions and they deemed them acceptable enough to answer - which evolved on both of us absolutely geeking out over the differences in our physiology. The space pudding didn't hold back one bit, insulting the inferior human biology with gleeful gusto.

"They need a chemical called phenethylamine," Bruce sighed, having deduced it through discussion since Venom and Eddie both protested aggressively against any kind of invasive testing. "I can synthesize it. No more head-chomping, no more murder."

It made perfect sense. Except it didn't. "Brucie-bear, you're a brilliant fucking scientist but a shit psychologist." I interrupted whatever came next. "Venom is a person, like me and you and, yes, even Hulk. Tell me this: if you found a way to get rid of Hulk, would you stop sciencing in the gamma radiation field?" I looked my boyfriend straight in the eyes, hoping for a spark of common sense. "Do you see my point? You science, Tony engineers, Steve draws and Clint bakes. Venom hunts. It's who they are, you can't give them a pill to make it go away."

The weight of my word landed in the room like lead, heavy. The only source of sound was the TV, playing the news quietly in the background for the longest time. Those few minutes felt like hours until Thor expectantly turned towards Eddie/Venom.

"IT IS SO. WE ARE AFRAID WE CANNOT INFLUENCE OUR INSTINCT TO HUNT PREY. KLYNTAR ARE APEX PREDATORS." The little black goop sounded almost apologetic. It was hard to hear undertones with their voice being so deep and grating. "BUT WE CAN TRY." Okay, I could totally hear the hope. Finding out the Eldritch horror could make puppy eyes was... Terrifying, to be honest, because they fucking worked.

"Got any better ideas?" Tony asked me sarcastically.

"I do, actually." I leveled a look with Natasha. She understood. "HYDRA goons. The aliens that, for some reason, keep invading New York every month or so. Stephen's adventures in Hell. Do I need to continue?"

"Wait, hold on," Steve raised his palms. "We don't kill HYDRA, we deposit them in SHIELD custody."

I snorted at the naïve Captain. "And what do you think happens to them there? Did you honestly think they just let torturing, murdering, world-domination planning psychos back on the streets?"

Steve frowned in confusion. "They go to prison?"

Natasha choose that moment to step up. "It's not uncommon for them to possess certain enhancements to be deemed too dangerous to be released back into society. Some of them are low-tier mutants and inhumans. Trust me, Steve, the lethal injection is a much more humane treatment than solitary life imprisonment in a ultra-high security prison." Romanoff stated with a trace of compassion. "And some mutants, we can't contain for prolonged periods of time." She added quietly, looking away.

Rogers was staring blankly into the wall, mulling over the information in his head. His intensive thought process was plainly visible on his face. I heard about some kind of fiasco with HYDRA agents suicide-bombing a city in Europe few years ago and Steve was there, along with Wanda and Sam.

"Venom is a whole person, and even if they look like they could be the main character in Call of Ctulhu video game, we can't just disregard them like they are some kind of badly behaving pet. They're my honorary uncle's boyf-sorry-significant other, for fuck's sake," I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "Y'all should know I don't fuck with people who give shit to one of my own. Don't disappoint me like that." I finished, feeling more tired than I had in months. I didn't regret giving into the found family dynamic, however I didn't exactly sign up for hard choices like them vs my long lost uncle, y'know?

Great, now I had a headache and three very concerned boyfriends glaring at me for unknown reasons. The urge to pace always manifested strongly within me as the emotional atmosphere rose in the room. With Bruce dangling off my lap, I couldn't do even that and I felt the restlessness blossom into irritation more and more with each passing second of my existence.

Eddie remained silent, looking down. Venom had mostly receded into the reporter's body, save for a few tentacles tightly wrapped around Eddie's palm.

"Alright," Steve suddenly said. "We can work with that."

"Princess, you look like you're either going to cry or yell any second," Bruce said softly, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me closer.

I immediately hid my face in his chest, taking several deep, shaky breaths. "Eddie is family. Y'all are family. It's terrifying to have to choose between the two." I said, after a brief moment of hesitation.

The reporter made some sort of a choked gasp, quickly masking it with a cough - I knew him way too well to miss the way he was fighting back tears of his own. Bruce understood, he really did understand me - hopped off my lap and let me hug Eddie properly, my happy-sad tears soaking through the collar of his tee.

"You're, uh, welcome to stay. I'll have a guest room prepared." Tony cleared his throat, passing his half-finished glass to Stephen who swallowed the liquid in one gulp. My boyfriends were so fucking emotionally illiterate. Disaster humans.

Huh, I really did have a type.

Later that night, I made the mistake of barging into Eddie's room with a bottle of really fancy whiskey I liberated from Tony's overstocked liquor cabinet. Visiting my uncle and boozing and smoking on the balcony, for old times sake, was my plan and...

I failed the mission successfully.

I didn't bother knocking. As soon as I saw a pair of bare feet, my eyes traveled further up on the couch on their own volition. There were so many tentacles, a writhing, oozing silky black mass and Eddie was making sounds, unmistakable noises-

"UNSEE. UNSEE. OH MY GOD, UNSEE, UNSEE." I stumbled back into the common room shivering.

"What happened, is everything okay?" Bucky stood up as soon as he saw me enter the doorway with my face scrunched in a grimace of regret. I felt like I've gone through the five stages of grief in the shortest time possible for a human being.

Somwhere, I heard Wanda's sudden moan full of pain and misery. "Please, stop THINKING about it!"

"Brain bleach, oh my God," I cringed. "Where's the Clorox?! I have decided I don't need my eyeballs-"

"Oooh," Tony's proverbial lightbulb lit up. The engineer sounded like he was about five seconds away from building a space ship and permanently moving to another planet. "They're together-together..." Tony intercepted me nonetheless, doing the most effective thing to make me stop speaking and thinking bullshit. He kissed me. With lots of tongue.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[greenninjagal-blog]

Loop Number Three Hundred Twelve

Hello who wants a quick one shot about Time Loops!

Summary: Patton is having a really bad day, and Virgil and Janus might just have a fix. He just wishes he found them three hundred loops ago.

Word Count: 5453

Quick Taglist: @alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones  @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders  

Read on AO3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Janus is folding origami snakes when Virgil finds him. 

Which, in itself, is not new or unusual. Janus has been making origami creatures since before Virgil had ever met him: cutting perfect squares of papers, folding along invisible lines, creating something new from the boringness. Some people like making tiny stars, but Janus turns squares of paper into pocket sized friends. Some of Virgils’s favorite presents are books in which he found little purple and gold paper spiders tucked between the pages, or the cranes that he unfolded to find little sweet and sappy messages for him, or when he was emptying out his school bag and found butterflies hidden in the depths, left there with care and love and waiting to be discovered on a rainy day.

Janus folds origami and Virgil keeps every single one he’s ever gotten his hands on-- sometimes even going as far as to dig the few Janus recycled out of the bin and keep them in his collection.

So the origami isn’t necessarily new or weird or confusing. 

Finding him behind the school building, cutting class to fold them is.

Janus is, despite his outward appearance and his claims to the otherwise, a huge nerd. Virgil finds that adorable about him: the way he gets excited to go to school and learn something new, the bounce in his step when he was heading towards his psychology class, the rumbling of his words when he forgot to take a breath while describing history to him. He’s a nerd who reads autobiographies with crappy romance novel covers strapped on them and begs Virgil to watch the new Netflix documentaries with him.

When they had been seven, Janus had been very adamant about being a host on the History Channel. Virgil had been interested as long as he got to be the guy that went out and found Mothman to invite on to Janus’s show. 

(Sometimes Virgil finds himself missing the simplicity of being seven-years-old and knowing what he wants to do with his life.)

Still Janus isn’t the type to cut class usually. Playing hookie was Virgil’s game, not his. But Janus hadn’t shown up to meet him outside his locker at the break between their classes, and Virgil had made the decision that locating Janus took priority over Personal Finance. 

 Its nice outside, far nicer than it has any right to be. The sun is shining, with just enough heat to make Virgil consider taking off his jacket (he doesn’t), a breeze carries through the air playing with his bangs, and the bells had just rang so everyone is in class and not outside. There’s barely any noise out here: a zombie apocalypse  picturesque scene. It used to unnerve him, but now it just gives him peace of mind.

Behind the school is his fifth place to check, right behind: the far corner of the library that Janus likes to power nap in during lunch, the stairwell to the roof that is supposed to be locked but they’d jimmied open last year, Janus’s actual class where his seat was empty and several kids glanced at Virgil as he had scurried by, and the parking lot where Virgil checked to make sure that Janus hadn’t just driven away and left him in this hell alone without even a text message goodbye. 

Janus is, in fact, still at the school, sitting in grass against the wall of the school that faces the parking lot. If Virgil hadn’t been looking for him, he might have mistaken him for a dark shrub or the Art Club's newest modern art installation. His bag is next to him, half his books spilling out into the lawn and at least a whole tree’s worth of folded paper around him. The piles of origami snakes remind Virgil of noodles, a mixture of colors and then twice as many in just plain white. 

“Hey,” Virgil says, approaching slowly in case this is one of those times when Janus wants to be alone more than he wants to feel alone. 

Janus folds another crease with the edge of his thumb nail and throws his sloppily made friend into the pile with the others. There’s a stack of pre-cut paper next to him, but it's all loose leaf paper. Which meant that he had folded his way through his stash of actual origami colored paper, which meant that he had been doing this since a lot longer than before second block, like Virgil feared.

Janus sighs thumping his head back against the brick walls and picks up another sheet. Virgil takes that as a sign to sit down next to him. He drops his bag off at his feet and reaches around the assortment of pins (Xmen, Marvel, gay flag, banned books week, one from a video game he liked the art of but had never played, etc) to unzip the smallest pocket. He pulls out another stack of the thin paper in an assortment of colors and places it on top of Janus’s current stack.

“So,” Virgil says, picking a snake off the ground. “Wanna talk about it?”

Janus flips the snake over and begins the process of folding the tail, ruthlessly. “Do I want to talk about it,” He echoes sourly, pressing each fold like it was a matter of life and death. “No, I do not want to talk about it. Because its stupid and a waste of time and I shouldn’t care but I still do and you have so many better things to do than listen to me whine about Patton Hart, yet again!”

Janus folds the head down and then stars into the empty eyes with a glare.

Virgil points his own snake at Janus and wiggles it a bit, “If its bothering you this much, then it can’t be stupid. And besides I love hearing about how much you hate Patton Hart. What did he do this time?”

“I don’t hate…” Janus lets out a sigh, “He didn’t do anything. In fact he didn’t even show up to class today. I heard a couple sophomores say he was acting funny earlier so I assume he went home early.”

Virgil frowns at that, trying to think back to the morning. He’d been running late and preoccupied with a Spanish test that he had forgotten he had first block, but he does remember seeing Roman and Patton in the halls. They hadn’t been holding hands like usual, which is probably why it stuck in Virgil’s head. They were the most lovey-dovey couple in the whole school: holding hands, kissing, flamboyant declarations of love... Virgil has nightmares about the way that Roman had asked Patton to Prom Junior year and had made Janus swear that if he ever plans on taking Virgil to a dance, he wouldn’t do it with glitter, the marching band, and in front of the whole school.

Patton had also looked different, Virgil remembers. Less cheery, more despondent. He had a smile on his face, but it looked forced and his eyes were glazed over like he wasn’t listening to anything at all.

Which, okay, fair. Roman tended to say the same things every day but phrased them differently. There were really only oh-so-many ways to say the words “I love you” and Roman had used up all of them in freshman year.

“So he wasn’t there,” Virgil says, shrugs, and takes a moment of silence to hope that Patton is getting some well needed sleep: Patton is one of those guys that just...finds a way to be involved with everything. Bake sales, choir, poetry club, talent show, office runner, treasurer of the student council-- if there’s something anyone needs to get done, Patton probably can do it. Not to mention he’s the nicest person Virgil has ever met. He honestly sees the good in people and its a shame that he’s dating Roman, because otherwise he and Janus would have invited him into their relationship a while ago.

(Roman isn’t exactly someone Janus or Virgil could stand on a weekly basis, much less daily. Virgil is pretty sure if Roman ever tried any romantic shit that he pulls on Patton, on Virgil he’ll spontaneously combust. Janus gets hives from being in close proximity to the gooey lovefest that Roman brings around any time he opens his mouth. And of course, Roman isn’t the type to share anything.)

((Ninety percent of their relationship these days is locking eyes while Roman did something and fake gagging like the mature adults they were.))

“What’s the big de--” Virgil stops, “Wait, isn’t debate today?”

“And take a guess who was my partner,” Janus summarizes. He tosses the snake to the ground and picks up another sheet of paper. “He...The Dragon Witch immediately failed me because he didn’t….and I couldn’t…”

He messes up the fold because his fingers are shaking too much. Virgil gently reaches out and takes the paper from his fingertips. It floats down to join the other snakes, and Virgil gives Janus’s hands a squeeze. 

There’s a welt of anger in his chest, bubbling up in a nice simmer. He hates the Dragon Witch, although he’s never had her class or even knows her real name (Roman had coined the title in freshman year back when he had been a benchwarmer for the football team and it had caught on until the whole school used it). She’s known for being generally awful to every student that came in, a little unhinged, and even her own daughter-- a girl in the grade below them-- agrees that nobody wants to be in her class. Unfortunately, despite the many protests held by small pockets of students, the Dragon Witch has tenure and the school board’s stance is “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it”. Ergo, she still lives on this plane of existence and Virgil thinks about egging her car often. Probably too often.

“Its stupid,” Janus repeats and the cavity where Virgil’s heart should be aches a little for him, “I know she’s had it out for me. Ever since that first day when I pointed out all the books on the syllabus were written by rich white men. But it was just… I felt really good about this one, Vee.” 

Virgil knows this. Janus had been practically vibrating since the assignment had been given out. He’d gone above and beyond with his research for the topic-- something about selflessness that had gone straight over Virgil’s head when Janus had been talking about it. Patton hadn’t even been that bad of a partner, Janus had said, despite never having time to practice for it. They had exchanged numbers and texted details and notes to one another all week.

If Virgil hadn’t spent most of the afternoons lying next to Janus playing League of Legends and listening to Janus’s black pen scratch out preparation notes, he might have been jealous of how much attention Janus had been giving Patton. (and vise versa.)

“We were going to win,” Janus says softly. “And then Patton decided to just not show the fuck up! Why can’t I count on anyone but you? Why must I suffer in a world full of idiots?”

“Hey, at least he’s cute,” Virgil says.

“At least he’s cute,” Janus agrees, resignedly. “Do you think he’s going to break up with Roman?”

Virgil shrugs, “Do you want to ask him to join us if he does?”

“I would never pass up an opportunity to spite Roman like that,” Janus says, which is actually code for “I would never pass up an opportunity to dote on Patton and Virgil, do you think he’ll let us paint his nails, I have the perfect shade of blue to match his shoelaces--” 

(They’ve had this conversation at least once every season since Janus had caught Virgil sighing at the smaller boy in the halls midway through freshman year.)

Janus wiggles his hands from Virgil’s and picks up the unfinished snake but its softer now, less angry and more care. When he completes it, he points it at Virgil and offers a guilty half smile.

“Sorry for making you miss class.” 

Virgil wants to laugh because really that was the last thing on his mind right now. He shuffles through the snakes on the ground picking out his favorites to add to his collection. “Nah, its cool. You can just do my taxes and budgeting in the future and we’ll call it even. What are you gonna do with all of these?”

Janus hums, looking at all of them, “Maybe we can hide them around school to confuse people.”

“Can we write “you’re next” in a red pen on the inside of them?” Virgil asks with a grin, “like some horror movie shit?”

“Whatever you desire, darling,” Janus says and Virgil is incredibly grateful that he’s in love with his best friend. Virgil doesn’t usually count himself as lucky, but Janus had to be some kind of miracle: a person who understood Virgil the way that no one else ever bothered to. Janus has the type of laughter that makes everyone else want to laugh as well, the type of smile that begs for mischief, the type of loyalty that reassures Virgil no matter what happens they have each other’s backs.

Also he’s pretty, and Virgil likes staring at pretty things.

Janus leans forward and gives him a peck on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You missed,” Virgil says with a stupid ass smile, because he’s stupidly in love and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Janus rolls his eyes very fondly and leans in again, until Virgil can see every shade of brown and green in his mismatched eyes, until he can feel Janus’s breath on his face, until Virgil loses track of the nanometers between them. Virgil’s eyes are half closed already, anticipating how the rest of their newly established free time is going to be spent and not feeling a speck of embarrassment or guilt about it--

And then he sees the movement out of the corner of his eyes and freezes up. He’s certain without looking that it is a teacher and oh god they were going to get expelled for something. There’s too much stuff around them-- their bags, the millions of snakes, their own bodies-- and even if they left everything there they’d surely get found out from that stuff, and then the school would call his mom and Virgil did not want to have that conversation with her again. 

But then he does look and its not a teacher at all. Virgil blinks, once, twice to make sure he’s seeing things correctly.

“Virgil?” Janus says, still several centimetres away from kissing him and obviously aware of how Virgil had tensed to high hell.

“I thought you said that Patton went home sick,” Virgil says absently.

Janus sits back, following his line of sight to the corner of the building where-- sure enough-- Patton Hart was walking without a care in the entire world. He was dressed differently today than Virgil remembered him ever dressing: the memories of his polo and his cardigan give way to the reality of sweatpants and a soft sweater that cannot be comfortable in the heat of the day. Virgil tries to remember if that’s what Patton had been wearing earlier and… yeah it was. From this distance Virgil can’t tell the look on his face, but he doesn’t look like he’s worried at all.

He’s walking with a purpose. And that purpose looks angry. 

“Does Patton have a car?” Janus asks.

“I don’t...think so…” Virgil says tracking Patton’s progress across the lawn.

“Then who’s keys does he have in his hand?” Janus says not entirely rhetorical.

With barely a nod between the two of them, they scoop all the paper snakes into Virgil’s bag and take off after him.

Its extremely weird, Virgil thinks. Because its so quiet that their footsteps sound like slaps, and they have to duck around a red truck to avoid Patton’s glance back. Janus crouches delicately, slinking between the cars and Virgil wastes a moment watching how gracefully he moves. 

He’s like water flowing, controlled and effortless and an undercurrent of power. Virgil doesn’t doubt his ability to fight right this moment, doesn’t doubt his killer left hook, or his dirty fighting tactics that Janus picked up in the name of self defense and preservation. Virgil’s body hums with adrenaline as he watches Janus follow after Patton.

He leans against a jeep that doesn’t actually have a parking pass but no one’s complained about it and Janus peeks around the bummer to see where Patton was heading.

For a second, Virgil thought he was going after Janus’s car-- the little gold mazada 3 thats a year and a half old and a gift from his parents. He’s just about to yell, to scream, to ward Patton off, because it was already shitty of him to not show up to the debate, but touching Janus’s car? That’s like super assholeish and Virgil has never once wanted to call Patton an asshole.

Janus, however, is quicker and covers his mouth with his hand. “Look, I think...he’s crying,”

“What?” Virgil whispers, squinting-- oh shit, he should probably get an appointment to update his contacts soon -- and Patton is crying. Its the silent type of crying that's born from using a smile to hide the hurt too much and Virgil immediately decides that Patton doesn’t deserve that ever. He feels each one of those tears like a punch to the gut, each soft barely audible gasp like a knee to his jaw, each sniffle like an elbow to the back of his head.

Patton storms past Janus’s car and goes straight to the fiery red Prius that Roman (and his twin Remus) share.

“Oh my god,” Virgil breathes at the same time as Patton takes the blade of a key to the side of the car.

The noise is awful. Janus flinches curling into Virgil as they watch with morbid fascination: Patton doesn’t waver, doesn’t hesitate as he carves deep into the paint and the metal, perfecting each and every letter.

By the time he’s finished, he’s bawling big fat crocodile tears that soak all turn all his cheeks puffy and soak the collar of his sweater and Virgil’s stomach is a twisted knot of emotions he doesn’t know what to do with.

“FUCK OFF” written on the side of Roman’s car explains things very well, anyway.

Patton drops the keys on the ground and then follows after in such a dead weight fall that Virgil feels the shockwaves from where he is. He curls in on himself, sobbing horrible, gut-wrenching howls of pain.

Janus leaps around Virgil to run after him, and Virgil only stumbles slightly trying to come with him. 

“I didn’t…” Janus says, loudly--loud enough to make Patton jump and Virgil flinch and the empty parking lot feel crowded, “I didn’t know you were into Modern Art, Patton.”

Virgil thinks that if it were any other situation, he might have snorted. But when Patton turns to them with his blue eyes so full of tears that Virgil thinks he might drown in them, he forgets every other thought he has had.

Its just...rage.

“I’ll kill him.”

And Virgil means it, the same way he says that the sky is blue, or that he won't take off his sweatshirt, that he loves Janus with all his soul. He means that he will go right back into that building and search through every single fucking classroom until he finds wherever Roman spends his third class of the day and then he’ll drag him out to the parking lot by his stupid perfect hair and run him over a couple hundred times.

Virgil will go to jail for manslaughter and he wouldn’t even feel sorry.

Patton lets out a shuddering sob and frantically tries to wipe away his ugly tears, making noises that Virgil assumes are meant to be words but they come out scrambled and grated and wrong. And Patton who’s never done a single mean thing in all the time that Virgil has known of him, does not deserve to feel a hurt that bad. How dare Roman make him feel a pain that bad.

Virgil rolls up his sleeves and spins on his heel to go take care of the issue-- but Janus catches him by his hood and yanks him back.

“Patton,” Janus says softly (a tone that's normally reserved for two AM sleepovers and lazy saturday movie marathons and sad boi hours that come and go like the seasons), “What can we do?”

Patton lets out a shriek, and when he looks back up there’s no sadness. Its a fury, an anger, its frustration that boiled into a suffocating gas and Virgil guess that he’s not going to need to end Roman’s life because Patton is perfectly capable of doing himself.

“You can shut the hell up!” Patton screams, “And Leave me the fuck alone!”

Virgil and Janus share a look.

And well...Virgil has been breaking rules since he was a kid and Janus isn’t the type of follow orders simply because. Without discussing anything they both sit down next to Patton, and Virgil starts pulling out the origami paper again.

“What are you doing?” Patton hisses in a way that Virgil has never once seen him do. His fingers shake, but he keeps himself calm and cool and collected.

“Its called origami,” Janus says, although he knows very well that’s not what Patton was asking. Virgil watches his fingers flick in the air, a mesmerizing dance that once Patton looks at he couldn’t look away from. 

Patton’s tears drop, his face is still puffy and dangerous, but Janus says nothing about it. Virgil holds his breath and watches as Janus folds, unfolds, pinches, twists the paper into a jumping frog. He sets it out on his palm and lets Patton stare at it like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“I like making things when I get upset,” Janus says. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“I…” Patton sniffles, rubbing away his tears again. He sounds so small and insignificant that Virgil wants to wrap his arms around him and protect him from everything. “Why…?”

“I know how to do many animals,” Janus continues on, “frogs, snakes, spiders, cranes… Or we can just fold paper in any way we want to, too.”

Patton is silent. Janus picks up another piece of paper and begins folding it in half. There’s a breeze through the parking lot, colder than before, bitter and smarting. Virgil tugs the sleeves of his jacket over his hands and tries not to wonder what happened to the sun. 

“The motion is calming to me,” Janus explains, “I like the creation of something new and different, the repetition--”

There’s a huff.

A snort.

And then...well then Patton is laughing a terribly wet, mean laugh. Janus pauses halfway through folding the head of the frog to make sure Patton hasn't been replaced by a skinwalking alien wearing Patton’s face, and Virgil can’t really blame him at all. The small boy kneels over laughing so hard he ends up gasping for breath and Virgil shivers at how the noise steals all the warmth from the air.

“Fucking stupid,” Patton manages, through gasps that sound suspiciously like whimpers. “Everything is so fucking stupid.” 

“I see someone taught the five-year-old a new swear word,” Janus says. “Who was it? Remus?”

“Just go away, Janus,” Patton says, laying his head on the asphalt.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Janus tuts finishing off his second frog, “You really don’t know where that piece of road has been.”

“Actually I do!” Patton bolts upright, “I do know! Its been right here! Its been here no matter what’s happened, never moving, never changing, and even if I marked it with chalk or paint or took a jackhammer to it or blew it the fuck up it will still be here when I wake up tomorrow! Now fuck off!”

Virgil blinks, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. 

“I am learning so many things about you today, Patton,” Janus says without missing a beat. He picks up another sheet of paper, “You’re into modern art, you’re passionate about parking lots...my, my, my. Perhaps we should have done our debate on road construction instead. Would you have bothered to show up then?”

“Like it matters.” Patton says, even more unlike himself. Virgil thinks he’s seen Patton overbook himself for commitments more times than he can count and apologies are nearly always coupled with food of some sort: cookies, fudge, pasta salad. Sometimes even to things he never even said he could be there for. Patton is more apologetic than Virgil ever has been, and Virgil likes to apologize for existing.

But here is a Patton, or a version of him, that seems so defeated, so angry, so sad and upset and miserable that he’s just...given up. Consequences be damned.

“We lose,” Patton says looking up at the sky, “We lose because Mrs. Hydrus hates you, Janus, and so she makes us do it without any notes, then every time you stumble, she interrupts and asks for clarification despite being the moderator, and she cuts down our time by a whole minute. And when you say anything back to her she sends you to the principal's office and gives us a zero for the assignment, anyway. We lose. But its fine because you never remember anyway and then you get to wake up and be humiliated all over again. And it doesn’t matter what I do! Okay? We lose!”

Janus stops folding his frog and turns to look directly at Patton. Virgil is too, and he can scarcely breathe.

“What did you just say?”

Patton turns to face him swiping away another round of tears. “Go ahead, Virgil! You’re just like everyone else. Go and call me c-crazy! Tell me I’m insane! T-take me to the doctors! Whatever! I’m so t-tired of this and I can’t even die.”

Virgil swallows hard. There’s a lump in the back of his throat, a lump that’s growing until he can barely breathe around it. Janus brings a hand up to his mouth like he might be sick right there on the concrete. 

“Patton…” Virgil breathes. “Are you a paper frog?”

Patton stares at him like he’s stupid so Virgil reaches out with shaky hands and picks up one of the finished frogs from the ground. He carefully unfolds it, piece-by-piece, until its back to the original square. Then he holds it up for Patton to see, and begins to refold it the way that Janus had.

“Are you,” Virgil asks, “being refolded like a paper frog?”

Patton’s face says everything.

“H-how,” Janus asks, “how many times?”

The other boy blinks long and slow and sniffles. “I-I don’t know. Around three hundred twelve? Maybe? I lost count so long ago.”

“Three hundred twel--” Virgil repeats, “Holy shit, Pat! That’s almost a year.”

“Why didn’t you come to us?” Janus asks, although they all know why really. Despite them being debate partners, Patton and Janus don’t talk. Janus and Virgil admire him from afar, and only talk to him in passing. For the longest time Virgil didn’t even know if Patton knew his name, and now they’re sitting here wondering why strangers would ever interact with one another?

“What about…” Virgil motions to the car, the keys, the fun words written in the red paint.

Patton shakes his head so hard his body trembles. “He doesn’t...he never...I tried so so hard but its so much easier to leave him be. It takes so much to convince him and then… then its not a true love’s kiss solution.”

Virgil’s gut twists just thinking about that. About how many times that Roman made him prove that he had seen everything before, and then for a kiss not to work when they both were head over heels in love with each other and then waking up again, convincing Roman again, then telling him the kiss didn’t work? Virgil could guess it didn’t go over well at all. 

Knowing Roman it had probably dissolved into a “we’re not meant for each other?”, followed by a “i will always love you no matter what.” , and finished with a “If it will save you from this loop then we’ll have to break up”.

From the sight of the keys on the ground, Virgil can guess how far it went this time.

“I do love him,” Patton says almost desperately. “I do, I do, I do! I swear I love him so much--”

Janus puts a hand on Patton’s shoulder and he falls silent immediately. “I believe you,” Janus says, “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Patton. No one here thinks that the two of you aren’t perfect for each other.”

Its a pain to admit because its friendzoning both of them right now, but Virgil would weather that if it meant Patton wouldn’t sound so heartbroken. Janus meets his eyes over Patton’s shoulder and gives him a nod. At least they’re on the same page for this.

“Three hundred twelve time loops,” Virgil says, “does not sound like it was fun at all.”

“Are any loops fun?” Janus asks.

“Fruit loops are fun,” Patton sniffles again. He rubs his eyes and hunches over in his sweatshirt. “Do you guys...do you guys really believe me?”

Janus’s lips curve into a wry smile, “Patton in all the time that I can remember, I’ve never seen you have the guts to key someone’s car. And now you’re saying fuck? And telling me off? That's a whole lot of character development to happen without me noticing, unless it was a time loop.”

Patton giggles, just a bit. It's still weepy but it makes Virgil feel like he can breathe for the first time. 

“Don’t worry, Pat,” Virgil says, “We’ll figure this thing out.” 

“H-how?” 

Janus sighed leaning back a little, “Well we could ask Logan.”

“Logan?” Virgil echoes, “you mean Remus’s boyfriend? You think he’s got something?”

Janus shrugs, “He is a witch.” 

“A what now?” Virgil says. “Since when was he a witch! You never told me that!” 

Janus grins sheepishly, and rubs the back of his neck, “I forgot? I love you?”

Virgil blows a raspberry at him. “Just like how I’m gonna forget to mention you when I find Mothman. But I love you, too.”

“Its a cruel love, this thing we have.” Janus says rather poetically and Virgil reaches over to shove his shoulder. Janus laughs sways so he falls onto Patton’s shoulder. Patton for his part smiles, bright and blinding and it takes both their breaths away when he laughs again.

Virgil can’t imagine having to redo the same day twice, much less three hundred times. He wonders vaguely if Patton has any idea how strong he is, how amazing, how inspiring he is to keep that glow inside himself despite everything.

He’s smile fades for a moment and he perks up all of a sudden. “Oh My Gosh! Logan’s a witch!” He makes a flurry of arm movements that forces Virgil to duck, “Oh my gosh that means--!!”

“Deep breaths, dear,” Janus suggests, although it goes ignored.

“Yesterday--like actually yesterday, your yesterday, not the last loop, Logan and Remus got into an argument over a bottle and I thought it was gatorade! Remus was trying to drink it but Logan wouldn’t let him and they ended up spilling it on the floor! I helped them keep it up but I got a little bit on my hand! I didn’t think too much of it but what if it was like some sort of potion?”

Janus considers it, “Hmmm, its a good starting place. Let’s go ask him what it was.” He stands up and offers a hand down to Patton and Virgil each. Virgil takes it and turns back to also offer his own hand to the smaller boy. 

“Come on, Hart, this is going to be your last loop.” Janus says.

Patton stares at their hands almost as if he was afraid to take them. He glances down at the origami frogs, at the keys, and their bags, then back up at them with an fearful expression. “You...you promise?”

Virgil laughs, “Yeah, we got you, Pat. Promise.”

Patton shakes from head to toe, but he grabs both their hands and smiles like he has hope for the first time in three hundred twelve days.

[yangrr]

dear no one [q.kun]

⇾ pairing : qian kun x reader

⇾ summary : love is worth the wait,especially when it’s your favourite food store aunty’s grandson

⇾ wc : 2k

⇾ genre/warnings : implied soulmate! au,inspired by Tori Kelly’s Dear No One | mild swearing

+if i may add,i want to dedicate this to @nctream​ who has always been the writer whom i admired for the longest time.thank you for being the sweetest person i came across this hellsite,though i never actually communicate with you but you’re so incredible and i hope you know that.much love!

All your life,you’ve wanted nothing more than to meet the one,the soulmate who was allegedly entwined with your soul before your time on Earth even began ticking.Everyone has someone,it was just a matter of time before you meet them.But that was also exactly why you were impatient,counting down daily on the crossed-out boxes of your yearly calendar,most of your friends had met theirs by now.Some married,some even with kids---or just happily dating.All but you.

It sucked really.

Going to work in the wretched company every day was like a punch to the guts when everyone around you was all about love.Mrs Kim on the marketing department always showed off her vacation photos--it was always jolly and exciting,grinning faces of her twin boys seemed to mock you for your lack of relationship.And there was also Mr Lee,a young intern who was at least 4 years younger than you but had already found his one and only.

And how about Mr Park,the old bumbling guy nearing his retirement age?His sweet plump wife never forgets to pack him lunch,constantly reminding him to wear his tweed coat in case he catches a cold in the draughty security room.

What about you?No one to come home to,no one packing your lunch or was there a partner for holidays.Twenty-three pushing twenty-four with no felicity in love.Lady Luck never smiled at you much,you could say.Maybe it’s your resting bitch face,it could probably scare off the fortune bearing deity and leave her quivering in her robes.

The day was cold as it is,heavy rain started its relentless onslaught on the wooden roof of the rickety store off the main road.You were craving hot soup after work and thought it would be a good idea to drive off course to visit the dear old lady who ran the shop on her own.She was an amiable creature,forever ready to offer a radiant smile that let her old beauty trickle through.The granny would probably be one of the few people you were genuinely nice to,which explains your big chunk of discount every time you stopped by.

But it wasn’t a good idea of course.Nothing you ever did was a good idea.

Your engine couldn’t start up after running in the rain for your car.Other than damaging the leather seats of your vehicle,your heels sunk deep into the slushy mud and broke right when you yanked upwards to get it out.Groaning in frustration,your fingers latched onto the tresses of your wet hair,the half-cracking nail getting caught between them.You forgot to cut them last night,and now it had turned its head back to bite you in the arse.

The you that made your way back into the shop shocked the small-framed lady,your disheveled appearance a huge contrast to the sleek you that had left the store a few minutes ago.You probably gave her little heart the dose of pump she never needed.

“Dear,what happened?”She exclaimed,scurrying over to you with two thick towels. “You’ll have to dry off,or you’ll be sick!”

She sat you down on the chair behind the counter,while you attempted to shield your ratty image from the prying eyes of her customers.It didn’t really work though,they still locked glances on you,curious and hushed gossip brewing among the group of malevolent looking ladies who look upon you with their beady eyes.

“Come,”She urged,ushering you towards the baby blue curtains that led into the kitchen,maybe.There was a “STAFF ONLY” hanging above the entrance,and the sound of pans clanging gave it away.

“Qian Kun!”Her frail voice shrieked in Mandarin, “Qian Kun,where are you,you lazy boy,”Tugging you by the arm,she led you further into the cooking area.The smell of cooking was making your full stomach rumble again,and you once again longed for the hot herbal soup with noodles. “Are you on your phone again?”

“I’m not lazy!”Was the reply.A fairly built man emerged out of nowhere,eyebrows furrowed in confusion when his eyes rested on your straggly form. “Who’s this?The new cashier?”He queried,wiping his wet hands on the rag by the table.

You couldn't answer,your usually sharp tongue felt prickly and numb.You only stared back absent-mindedly,but he looked about as enamoured by you like you had been by him.

You knew the old lady told him something,and with the way she was yelling at him,you figured he was too zoned out to concentrate.Both of you tore your gazes away from each other when his grandmother reached up to his broad shoulders to give him a good shake.

“You never listen to me.” She grumbled,huffing indignantly. “All I told you to do is to lend them something to wear,and drop them back.”

The granny gave Kun a small shove, “Naughty boy,and you were so cute back then.”She muttered,retying her apron hastily and hurrying away to wait on the unattended counter.

“I’m still cute now.”He mumbled,looking sheepish in front of you. “I-uh-I apologise,that was embarrassing.”

“No worries.”You let out a small giggle,waving his comment off. “Your grandmother is cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled up in an amused smile,while he gestured for you to follow him. “I hope you can fit into my granny’s clothes,they are a little old-fashioned but I think you can make it work.”

The door behind the pantry led up to a stairway of wooden steps,and then into a fairly warm lounge.There was a small couch,and a bed accompanied with a shelf of books and board games.You supposed that this could be their resting place of some sort when they closed temporarily for the day,lunch break, or whenever someone feels a little out of it.

“This place looks really comfortable.”You remarked,shifting your black button-up from sticking onto your skin.It clung on like leeches,making this whole ordeal more unpleasant than it already is.The nail was giving you excruciating pain,the shard of the broken end digging vehemently into your fingertips.

“It is,my granny made sure it’s the best condition so all the employees would feel comfy here.” Kun rummaged in the closet to the left of the bed,fishing out a pair of loose black pants and a plain white tee. “Here,she didn’t leave any shirts here,but I hope you’re okay with mine.”

You nodded thankfully,reaching out to take them from him.The shirt smelled nice,your nose picking up on the lavender-scented detergent wafting from the material.

“Then I’ll drive you home?” The warm tone of his voice felt homely, sending hot waves across your body,making you feel like a lightheaded teenager talking to their crush for the first time,tongue heavy with nerves.But yet at the same time,the attraction that bloomed in your chest felt more matured and controlled than the seventeen-year-old you,age muffling the lovesick squeals that you would’ve let out when you’re alone in your room.

You had felt something when you first landed eyes on him,a familiar feeling stemming that made it impossible to wound your mind around.Maybe it was your affection deprived self that was being delusional,and it would pass like one of your many fleeting crushes.

But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander,thinking about what if he was the one you’ve been waiting for?

+

If there was a chance to hit the pause button,you would, in half a heartbeat.The quiet fragments of conversation shared brought you a sense of ease that you’ve never felt in a long time,with white noises and soft tunes of guitar strumming playing from the car radio was almost ethereal.The drizzle of the rain incorporated flavour to the moment like the topping to your favourite dessert,it was the perfect addition that completed the time shared.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow to return the clothes.”You said,unbuckling the seatbelt as he stopped in the lobby of your apartment complex.

“Alright,I guess I’ll see you tomorrow again?”Kun smiled,the kind that made your organs go mushy and all gooey,like someone stuck a ladle in you and began to stir aggressively.

“For sure!Thank you for the lift.” You limped out of the car slowly,careful to not cause more impairment to your shoes.You didn’t fancy going up the elevator looking like someone ran you over with a truck,but there wasn’t much of an option.

All you could think of that night were Qian Kun and his calloused fingers,deep timbre voice and gentle smiles.Maybe you were going crazy,but again,there wasn’t much of an option either.

+

“You seem very happy today.” Mrs Kim from the marketing team mentioned,the cheerful grin almost blinding you.You couldn’t help but spot the striking resemblance of the smile to her sons.Now,it suddenly appeared more kind and less scornful than you thought,and you felt a little bad for always being grouchy towards her.You realised it was nothing but your loneliness coming into play,and you would even admit that you were envious of her happy family life. “Had a great day yesterday?”

“Not really,no,”You told her. “But I guess it wasn’t all that bad.”

So the tales of yesterday’s misfortunes came pouring out of you,from the dreaded engine to the antagonising broken nail,Mrs Kim was more than shocked to see the unconscious tug of your lips upwards.

“And you’re still smiling after all that?”She laughed. “I’m gonna say that you met someone.”

Your eyes widened a bit,trying to cough it off. “I didn’t!It was just the store owner’s grandson.”

“So there is someone?”Mrs Kim waggled her eyebrows at you. “You cannot hide from me,child.That’s the face of an infatuated person.”

+

The bell jingled when you pushed open the glass door.Stepping in,you opened your mouth to greet the granny like usual,but was met with an unknown face gaping at you.It was a boy,around a few years younger,round marble eyes curious yet welcoming.His booming tone greeted you,far too much enthusiasm for your liking.

“Hello,welcome!What would you like today,miss?We have chicken noodle soup for today’s special and--,”

“Lucas,please stop talking so loudly.”Kun’s voice reverberated from behind the thin curtains. “You’re gonna scare all the customers on your first day.”

“I’m here to see Kun.”You spoke to the giant of a human,glancing swiftly at the kitchen entrance,slightly intimidated by his tall stature.He gave you a quick once-over,looking a bit confused.

“Are you his girlfriend?”He questioned,shooting you a broad smirk. “Kun ge is so lucky,I’m--”

“Lucas,what’s taking so long?”Kun appeared again like the first time you met him,drying his damp hands on a small rag. “Oh!”

“Oh,indeed.”Lucas said,mischief written all over his face. “Is this your girlfriend,gege?Should I let granny know about this?”

Kun scowled at him,murmuring something along the lines of ‘if you don’t shut up,I’ll make sure you don’t have a job by the end of today.’

“Hey.”

You passed him the neatly packed parcel, “I’ve washed everything.Thank you again for being so kind to me.”

“I say this calls for a celebration.” Lucas interrupted,peeking from behind the cash register. “Kun,remember that sushi place you wanted to try out?The one near the local university.”

Kun hummed, “What celebration?”

“That someone is finally into you for the first time in twenty-four years?You should appreciate this effort made by this very beautiful individual.”

“Would you kindly shut the fuck up?”Kun hissed,the frown intensifying.

“Well,if you need someone to go with,I know a person who would very much like to.”You interjected,growing more bashful by the second.

“Great!Now you two settle between yourselves.I’ve got work to do!”Lucas said brightly,darting away.

Kun smiled,tucking his phone away in his pocket,glittering irises not leaving yours.

“I’ll call you.” He promised,and somewhere in you just knew he would.

And as you made your way out of the store,the keen sense in your being told you that something very special was about to begin.

Good things truly do come to those who wait,after all.

[exhausted-dog-mom]

Another Underwater (2020) fanfic

After rewriting the entire movie once, I was commissioned to write it again, but with more focus on the character Paul. And, by more focus, I mean pain. Poor guy takes all the hits in this one. Again, the full fic is available on my Patreon and the first 1k or so is available down below.

             The lights went out. Everything went out.

           Paul reached out instinctively, grabbing Norah before she could fall to the floor. The elevator was shaking, some outside force making its rage known and every nerve in his body started screaming ‘nope’ on repeat. He’d seen enough monster movies to know where this was going. He looked at the gooey pink abomination that had tried to eat him where it lay lifeless on the ground.

           “This better not be some Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea shit, man.” The words left his mouth almost of their own accord, his favorite coping mechanism rearing its convenient head as he leaned against the metal wall of the elevator. He screamed, laughing lamely at the way everyone laughed and definitely didn’t wince when Norah smacked him in the ribs for his efforts. “I’m just kidding, but it does sound like there’s something out there. This might not be a good time to ask,” he pointed his flashlight at the creature where it now lay on the floor. “Is that a baby?”

           He just had to jinx it. Sound carried better in water. That meant whatever the hell was screaming bloody murder out there could be far away. Right? There was no way it was right outside, listening in on his bad jokes and waiting for the perfect opportunity to scare the shit out of them…right? Swallowing thickly, he joined the others in searching the only window, his heart sinking right down to his toes as he caught a glimpse of familiar pink tentacle just before they disappeared into the black.

           Holy shit. Was that the Kepler?

           The rig had finally exploded, the burning ball of fire illuminating a human head. That was a human! It was! There was no way it wasn’t! Paul was a human, so he knew what humans looked like!

           His terror in the face of the humanoid shadow was very quickly replaced by the equally scary knowledge that the elevator was falling. Very fast. Too fast.

           They were all gonna die.

           His body moved as though on autopilot, his panic somehow distant and all encompassing. They all crammed into the pressure chamber, not at all willing to suffer the same fate as poor Rodrigo, his insides on the outside where nobody should have to see them. If they could get completely submerged in water before the elevator turned coffin hit the seafloor, they’d have a chance. A slim one, but it wasn’t zero.

           When they did hit the ground, the only thing that reminded him he wasn’t actually dead was the throbbing pain in his ribs and left knee. Well, the pain and the rain of rubble, of course. Pieces of Kepler fell from the sky—was there a sky underwater?—and they all ran for their lives, the soft orange glow of the maintenance pipeline’s entrance mocking them in the distance. Things—humany things—swam past him in the water, the memory of the face hugging little shit attacking his helmet too fresh to set aside completely. His suit was heavy, and his legs were fighting him with every step, but he couldn’t stop. Norah was right in front of him, trying her best with her skinny toothpick legs. Little Paul’s fuzzy felt ear rubbed against his chin and he was filled with determination.

           He looked up—why? what possessed him to look up?—and saw a huge piece of something plummeting down, down, down…

           Right at Norah.

           Well, shit.

           A fire roared to life inside his gut—he’d better get a six pack out of this—and he increased his speed, rushing toward his friend and pushing her with all his strength. She fell over, her pained grunt coming across the comms and filling him with guilt right before the universe filled him with pain.

           Ow.

           Hands pulled him to his feet, his body moving on its own as his vision spun. Being smacked with station parts really knocked the breath out of him and he was having some serious trouble getting it back. Was air supposed to taste funny? He smacked his lips and licked at the inside of his mouth, trying to dispel the sudden dryness that filled what felt like his entire respiratory system. Gross. Norah’s voice cut through the haze and suddenly he could breathe again, and he did. Greedily. Like he’d never breathed before nor would he again.

           “Oh,” he crooned, tongue once again mothing before his brain could stop it. “Oxygen, you sweet, sweet nectar.”

           Distantly, he was aware of his friends talking above his head. Something something fumes, blah blah scrubber. He was too busy breathing to worry about it.

           “Hey,” he said dazedly as people started moving beyond his still fuzzy line of sight. “You saw the monsters, right? I’m not crazy, there were monsters out there.”

            Norah’s face came into sudden focus, the obviously fake smile doing nothing for his pounding heart. “Hey, calm down, buddy. It’s gonna be ok. We’re inside now, alright? We made it.”

           Right. Right. They made it.

           Some of the concern on his best friend’s face faded as his breathing evened out, but it came right back when he started coughing. His ribs screamed in protest with every push of his diaphragm, his head pounding in tandem. He leaned his head back and let out a long, bereaved moan.

           “Worst day off, ever.”

           That got him a few chuckles—even from the Captain, yay!—and he let himself relax.

           Naturally, their har earned moment of respite didn’t last long. The mover got them pretty far down the pipeline, but they soon reached a section of tunnel that was submerged in water. The faithful little machine sadly couldn’t carry them through it, so they had to get up and walk.

           Joy of joys.

           He did not want to put his helmet back on. Now that his brain wasn’t completely oxygen starved, he knew what would happen if he went back into the enclosed space of his suit. His scrubber was broken, but not completely nonfunctional. While the others would be breathing recycled oxygen, he was now officially signed up for the hella exclusive oxygen+ plan!

           Whoo!

           The universe hated him.

[hitchell-mope]

ABC headcanons. Ben LeRoi. Volume 3

WARNING!!!! THIS POST CONTAINS NSFT MATERIAL

His relationship with Mal will be included with this seeing as it makes no sense to me to not include it if you know what I mean

A - Acrobatics - How bendy can they get in bed? What is their favourite position? Mal’s magic coupled with Ben’s sports training results some very impressive acrobatics. Their favourite position is face to face

B - Bliss -  How big is the “big o” for them? How easy it is to bring them to it? Well. Magic light fills the windows when it happens so you tell me. And it’s fairly easy to ensure since they’re both very good at it.

C - Control -  How dominant they are? Who is more dominant? On a scale of 1-10. Ben’s about an 8 and a half. And Ben’s much more dominant than Mal.

D - Dedication - To what extent are they willing to go to make the night perfect? Ben’s willing to do anything to make the night perfect for Mal. So long as he doesn’t think it’s put either of them in danger that is.

E - Experiment - Are they eager to try new things in bed, or do they prefer more traditional love-making? Yes. They’re willing to try anything at least once.

F - Film - Have they ever documented their bedroom activities? Yes. It’s was a 19th birthday present for Ben.

G - Gooey - Anything related to messier aspect of sex, including cum. They don’t mind getting messy. Magic makes everything easier after all. Chocolate is involved more often than not. And they’re okay with it. Again. Magic makes everything easier.

H - Horny - How easily aroused that person is, and what drives them crazy? Ben’s able to keep himself under control better than most guys his age but when both you and your wife have magic and can turn into mythical creatures that the other is sexually attracted to. Then it doesn’t take much to get things started. And he adores it when Mal uses casual magic to either of their benefit. Provided he’s informed about it of course.

I - Innuendo - How good is their dirty talk game? Mal’s is great. Ben’s not as good. It’s still a little corny. But he’s getting better at it.

J - Jungle - How well groomed is their carpet, etc.? Ben is completely natural as well as purple. It’s a holdover from the beast transformation. Mal’s almost the same except she keeps herself trimmed.

K - Kiss - How are they skilled with their mouths? Tongue, or not? And how often do they kiss anything but lips? Both are skilled. Ben’s a freaking prodigy. Yes. Always when it’s the lips. And Ben’s a very big practitioner of forehead, cheek, nose and chin kisses. Those are much more chaste though.

L - Libido - How long can they go? If they didn’t have kingly duties or college they’d probably never leave their apartments.

M - Moan - How vocal are they in the bedroom (or elsewhere)? Do they turn to mush, or keep up the talk? Both are very vocal. Lots of cursing and grunts and screams and french cuss words. And they always keep talking.

N - Nature - Have they ever thought about having sex outside, or doing other inappropriate things there? They’ve done it outside. Abandoned dragon cave. At the enchanted lake. A couple hundred miles above the clouds. You know just the usual spots.

O - Oscar - Do they enjoy role-playing? Yes. Their most constant one is the knight and the dragon.

P - Protection/Procreation - How careful are they? Have they had any accidents? How eager are they to start a family? Magic keeps from any accidents that may occur. Which also means they don’t need to be carful if they so choose. They do want to start a family. But not for another decade

Q - Quirk - Does their love-making have any unique elements? Magic. Beast. Dragon. Sceptres. Wings. It’s pretty quirky.

R - Random - Any random fact about them. Ben likes to cover them in his wings when they do it. Mal has a thing for wearing his old tourney jersey when they do it.

S - Strip - What goes underneath their clothes? Thanks to his magic Ben’s got a body worthy of Thor himself and what was already king sized has now doubled in its majesty. As for Mal. She’s also in perfect shape for her age. Just as much as Ben is, if not more, since she did a lot of running on the island. And thanks to magic, neither of them have to do any work for it

T - Tempo - What’s their pacing like? Are they casual or more intimate? They go fast as much as possible but they always keep the romance.

U - Urge - How often does the desire to have sex strike them? What happens then? Well. They’re both 19 years old. So pretty often. And they always teleport into their apartments if they can. If not. They use magic to keep themselves in check

V - Virginity - How was that person/these people’s first time? They’re each other’s first. And it was a little weird but still very enjoyable.

W - Wish - What’s one of their wildest fantasies? Ben’s living it. It’s no secret that he’s downright obsessed with dragons are the ahem darker side of morality so Mal is his literal dream come true. Mal’s is to surrounded by ten different Ben’s in various costumes. And that was fulfilled on her 19th birthday

X - eXtra - Are they willing to bring extra people into the bedroom? And who that would be? Yes. Their most favoured choices are with Jane or Prince Tyrone of Maldonia.

Y - Yoyo - What does their toy collection look like? Mostly magic potions. Their sceptres. And some traditional toys.

Z - Zoinks - Have they ever been caught/compromised? How did they react? Only once. Now Jay will always knock. They were shocked but laughed it off the next day. And now they know to use a glamour spell when they’re doing it in the gala bathrooms.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Hiccanna 100 OTP Questions Meme--Part 1

So I saw this 100 Questions About Your OTP post, and I decided to do them for Hiccanna! And...I am never doing one of these memes again, because this took forever XD I decided to split it in two to avoid just creating a giant Monster Post. QUESTION SOURCE: https://the-moon-dust-writings.tumblr.com/post/159857601812/100-otp-questions 1. Who loves flower crowns more? Anna is highkey obsessed with them! Especially kinda lopsided weird ones with sunflowers and shit. Hiccup likes them a lot too but is too embarrassed to ever admit it 2. Who is the one who likes to cuddle? Probably Anna tbh, she’s extremely huggy and cuddly and basically always initiates the cuddle sessions. Hiccup is secretly super grateful for this because he’s actually touch-starved as all hell but absolutely is not aware of it like cmon do you think big tough Stoic hugged him a lot growing up??? Kinda doubt it tbh 3. Who has awful taste in music? Depends on who you ask XD Hiccup has exactly 2 Music Moods--Stuffy classical orchestal stuff with a bunch of fancy violin and flute and whatnot, and edgy underground alternative hipster nonsense from bands no one has ever heard of. Anna, meanwhile, is a simple woman, who listens almost exclusively to shitty, catchy-butvery-unoriginal Top 40 hits and belts along with them to the radio, much to Hiccup’s chagrin XD 4. Who is the meme lover? A N N A she is a memelord supreme 5. How did their second date go? An...oddly specific question XD But I’ll take a stab at it. I imagine on their first date they went to see some high fantasy epic movie with fancy CGI (they’d both be HELLA into that--Anna for the magic and epic romances and Hiccup for the interesting magical creatures) and then gushed about it for hours afterwards, so their second date might be something a bit more lowkey where they’d just talk and hang out. I feel like they both probably are coffee addicts, so...a coffee shop date, maybe? And Anna gets some kinda chocolate pastry, of course! 6. How many children do they want/have? Tbh unpopular opinion probably, but I actually don’t think Hiccup and Anna would necessarily want kids??? They’re definitely the kind of couple who would love exploring the world and taking spontaneous adventures together, and you can do a lot less of that when kids are typing you down. Not to mention I think the full-time responsibility of having a kid would be pretty exhausting to Anna in particular, as someone who identifies with her a lot and has never wanted kids because even thinking about it makes me tired XD I mean sure, Anna has a nurturing side that comes out with Elsa sometimes, but she doesn’t have to use that ALL THE TIME (since Elsa is a grown-ass adult usually capable of sound judgement) like she would with a kid. But ALL THAT SAID if they DID end up having kids I don’t think they’d go too crazy with it, probably just 1. Or 2 at the VERY most. 7. Who hides the weapons? You mean like...in an AU where they’re infiltrating an enemy fortress or something? Probably Anna, since she’s the more innocent and harmless-looking of the two XD 8. Who is the better dancer? They both can’t dance for SHIT it’s absolutely cringeworthy but probably Anna at the end of the day because she probably spent a lot of time practicing in those empty ballrooms 9. Do/Did they have a theme wedding? They’d probably want to have some kind of a magic high fantasy theme, since they’d both be hella into that--and then it ends up morphing into “Dragons and Princesses” XD Anna ends up getting over-the-top fancy princess dresses for all of her bridesmaids and Hiccup has the time of his damn life making basically everything in the buffet dragon-themed. The cake is like half dark green or black scale-patterned and half fancy-patterned spring green tiers. It’s quite the event of the decade! 10. What do their parents think of them dating? Valka absolutely ADORES Anna and thinks she’s perfect for her son--the perfect blend of cheerful and compassionate when she needs to encourage him, but also badass and tough-spirited to protect him when she needs to. Stoic doesn’t really like Anna at first--he’s under the (mistaken) impression that she’s a wimp and finds her bubbliness kind of grating and annoying, and generally worries that dating her will just make Hiccup even more of a wimp. He’d rather him date a no-nonsense tough-as-nails asskicker like Astrid in hopes it would toughen him up. However, once Stoic sees Anna do something like punch someone out with no hesitation when they pick on her and Hiccup, Stoic comes around to Anna VERY quickly XD I feel like Agnar and Iduna would just be happy to see their daughter dating a sweet, dorky guy who loves her with all of her being and appreciates her for who she is. As long as he treats her well and makes her feel loved (which he most certainly would because he’s a precious cinnamon roll), he gets their stamp of approval. And hey, anything is an improvement over Hans XD 11. Are they a super sappy couple? Nah. I imagine they do a lot of PDA and probably hold hands or kiss in public a lot, but they’re not like...overly gooey in how they talk to each other, if that makes any sense. If anything, their flirting is painfully awkward, even AFTER they get together XD So much so that when they try to hit on each other in front of their friends their friends are like “oh my god STOP this is too much secondhand cringe for me to bear” 12. How did they get together? I like to imagine they’re friends for a long while but both of them fully 100% believe that the other is ridiculously out of their league and they’re irreparably trapped in the friendzone and one day they’re hanging out with their friends and awkwardly flirting with each other (but of couRse the other person isn’t FLIRTING they’re just being NICE they both figure) and finally Jack just shouts “oh my god will you two just fuck already???” and after a few minutes of utter mortification they just have the world’s most awkward love confession XD Anna finally relents and asks Hiccup on a date, and of course he says yes! 13. Who asked the other to get married? I can honestly imagine either of them asking but probably Hiccup. And he’s SO nervous about it that he starts straight stuttering the first few times he tries to ask and has to stop and change the subject XD He probably gets it finally after like...the 5th time. 14. Who stays up too late and makes stupid jokes? A N N A 100% I headcanon that she has pretty bad insomnia (that’s why she has such a hard time waking up and is so tired in the morning!) so she stays up to the wee hours of the morning with her brain spinning with incredibly weird thoughts and her sense of humor becomes nigh indecipherable after 3 am. 15. Who is the nerd? Hiccup obviously is this even a question??? He spends all day collecting dragon facts and lore and building weird scientific contraptions to help crippled dragons fly WHAT A NERD  16. Who knows the most obscure facts? Hiccup again, he knows so many dragon factoids and random scientific shit that Anna sometimes wonders how he manages to fit anything else in there 17. Who makes the other a flower crown? Anna! She makes ones for both herself and Hiccup and Hiccup begrudgingly wears his but secretly thinks it’s pretty and likes it because it reminds him of his dorky gf :3 18. Who likes to read? Both! I mean Hiccup obviously does because, as established above, he is a nerd, but Anna has canonically read every book in the Arendelle castle library, some twice, so she doesn’t NOT like to read. Hiccup probably reads more, though, between the two of them--Anna often doesn’t really have the attention span for it. 19. Who bothers the other person while the other person reads? ANNA she loves to constantly hang over Hiccup’s shoulder when he reads and drape herself all over him like a needy cat like “PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEEE” and Hiccup just lets out a defeated sigh and starts playing with her hair while reading and hopes this will be enough to appease the little gremlin It usually is 20. Who tutors the other? Hiccup tutors Anna, but she HATES having to ask and is actually pretty insecure about school just generally not coming as naturally to her as it does to Hiccup, so he’s always super patient and understanding with her and tries his very best to never get annoyed or frustrated if she doesn’t catch onto something right away. He doesn’t want her to ever feel stupid because he imagines it feels the same to her as when people call him weak and useless. Slowly but surely, he’s saving Anna’s grades--and building her confidence! 21. Do they have similar taste in movies? Hell yeah! They love that high fantasy shit. I also like to think Hiccup manages to get Anna into some sci-fi and Anna manages to get Hiccup into romcoms (ONLY the good ones, he insists, as he would not be caught dead watching a shitty romcom!) 22. How do their personalities compliment each other? I mean the most obvious one here is that Hiccup’s general pessimism and cynicism compliment Anna’s optimism and cheerfulness really nicely. He would be able to keep her grounded and get her to be more realistic about things, while she would encourage him to see the positive side of bad situations and be more hopeful about things in general. Also I love the contrast of Hiccup’s intelligence and more quiet, snarky nature with Anna’s rather boisterous personality and general naivitey (sp?) and energy. They’re like a downplayed version of the “the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” trope and I think that’s beautiful. Also, they’d both be great at soothing the other’s isecurities--Anna would be Hiccup’s biggest cheerleader and would believe in him like no one else did, and would stop at nothing to pull him out of it when he started spiraling into self-loathing and thinking he’s a fuck-up. Hiccup, meanwhile, would be so smitten with Anna and would think that it’s the most obvious thing in the world that she’s an amazing human being in her own rite and never has to feel like the “spare” princess living in her sister’s shadow. And saying this without a shadow of a doubt, like it’s common knowledge, is often exactly what Anna needs to hear to feel a little better about herself. 23. How do they tell everyone that they are going to be having a kid/adopting a child soon? I...honestly don’t think they’d be that extra about it??? In fact, they’d be the sort of couple who would be so UN-extra about it that it would do a full 180 and be hilarious. Like they’d be casually brunching with friends and Hiccup would just casually be like “oh by the way, Anna’s 3 months pregnant” or “oh, by the way, we just signed some adoption papers and we’re picking our new kid up on Saturday” and all of their friends would be like “wait WHAT” and Hiccup would be like “Anyways what were you saying about the newest episode of Alien Space Shooters 3000?” XD  24. Who has better fashion sense? Hiccup, probably. I mean, Astrid caught him making OUTFITS! The horror! The dude is also way more effeminate and, uh...clothing-conscientious than he realizes XD Anna has decent fashion sense, but I imagine that’s like 90% because Elsa spices up/makes her outfits since Elsa’s really more of the fashionista XD 25. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner? Try bullying Hiccup when Anna’s around. I dare you. You’re gonna get a fistful of Anna Rage and a very angry redhead screaming “THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO MY BOYFRIEND I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU” Look this woman punched a man off a boat and knocked a wolf half a mile away with a guitar thing she absolutely takes no shits and she can and will fuck you up if you so much as lay a finger on her precious dork Hiccup thinks this is really hot btw 26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle? For whatever reason the first songs that come to mind are “Africa” by Toto and “Don’t Stop Believin” by Journey. ALSO “Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus since they both are, in fact, teenage dirtbags XD It also like perfectly describes the story of a modern AU where Hiccup the Loser is secretly pining for Anna the Nice Popular Girl who is dating Hans the Douchebag but that’s neither here nor there 27. What other couple would your otp get along with? Jackunzel, Jackunzel, Jackunzel!!! Jack and Hiccup would definitely be bros, even if they are not above mercilessly roasting and/or trolling one another XD And Anna and Rapunzel would be BEST FRIENDS if they ever met and I will DIE on this hill, I legit don’t think Anna would Vibe with any other princess as hard as she vibes with Punzel. They could be ADHD disasters together XD 28. Who likes to prank the other? Anna actually turns out to be quite the closet gadfly and has a secret side that LOVES pranks and generally trolling Hiccup, much to everyone’s surprise and Hiccup’s mild dismay. It’s always pretty innocent and subtle pranks, like switching books on his bookshelf or hiding his various possessions in weird places in the house, but Anna absolutely LIVES for that long, defeated sigh he lets out when he realizes he’s Been Had. 29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures? Anna takes pictures of EVERYTHING on her phone--scenery, flowers, cute animals they come across, weird buildings, pretty fountains, Hiccup when he’s not looking, EVERYTHING XD She also bombs all her social media accounts with selfies of her and Hiccup and captions gloating about how great he is and how you WISH your boyfriend was this cool and rad and Hiccup is both embarrassed and flattered by this. 30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates? Anna, who probably never stopped fully being a sucker for fairy tale True Love stories and all that shit, would fangirl for hours and hours. Hiccup would just go, “Oh, neat!” and go back to whatever project he was currently working on XD I mean his logic is mainly that regardless of whether it’s “magically destined” or not, he’s gonna date Anna anyway, so it really doesn’t make a scrap of difference to him whether she’s dubbed by some Mystical Higher Power as his soulmate lol  31. Where would they live? Well...SOMEWHERE in Scandinavia, since that’s canonically where both Berk and Arendelle are XD I kinda like the idea of them spending part of the year in Berk and part in Arendelle...maybe spring and summer in Berk, and fall and winter in Arendelle? I imagine spring and summer are when there’s the most interesting dragon activity in Berk, and winter’s probably pretty festive and colorful in Arendelle, if OFA is anything to go by. And the fall color is pretty too, going by Frozen 2. Seems like a good compromise, since I doubt either of them would want to permanently move away from their homes. 32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one? Given the shipping this question is HILARIOUSLY ironic Well it just so happens they would have a type of dragon called a Night Fury and name him Toothless XD Anna would probably have a dragon of her own too--I conversed with someone on fanfic.net and did some research into all the HTTYD dragons, and I think the one I like her most with is a sand wraith, since they live on the beach and Anna certainly seems to like the beach, if her throwaway comment complaining Elsa doesn’t have “tropical” powers is anything to go by XD 33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be? First of all, fuck you for making me google “Types of Vampires” and then getting me aggravated because like nowhere on the internet is there a straightforward list of vampire "species” that isn’t like 5 miles long or just a meme XD Welp, I couldn’t really find a list of vampire species that wouldn’t take forever to look over, so I wrote a summary for a vampire fanfic instead Anna turns first. I imagine probably Hans turns her--tricks her into falling in love with him without knowing he’s a vampire, and then biting her when she’s off-guard to basically try to make her into a spooky sex slave or something. Anna starts seeing Hiccup in secret (who she knew before--he’s still human at this point), and eventually he asks her to turn him so that he can be with her without her outliving him and also so that they can team up and fight Hans together. Anna has a lot of reservations about turning him, but finally agrees. They end up kicking Hans out of his spooky vampire castle and taking it for themselves XD Anna eventually makes the best of being a vampire, and has a blast wearing all manor of fancy dresses and throwing extravagant balls. She’s pretty bummed about never getting to gorge herself on garlic bread again, though :( Hiccup doesn’t much like it, especially since a lot of animals are scared of him now and he doesn’t Vibe with nature quite like he used to D: Nonetheless, he decides to use the immortality to do some pretty neat projects and work on his contraptions and inventions and whatnot. I imagine they eventually devolve into kind of a vigilante duo, and make a point of only hunting down and feeding on bad people who are actively hurting or abusing other people or animals. A pretty good incentive to not like...do violent crime in this AU is those creepy old wives’ tales people tell their kids like “don’t be an asshole when you grow up, or the Haddock vampires will get you!” 34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween? Well Hiccup would be some sort of dragon, obviously! Anna I have no idea...but I kinda like the idea of her just dressing up as a generic fairy tale princess and then going around with Hiccup like “oh no, this dragon kidnapped me!” Both their friends and various trick-or-treaters get a kick out of the whole bit. 35. Can they name each other’s favourite food? But of course! Anna’s is chocolate, krumkake, and sandwiches, and Hiccup’s is crabcakes (yes, all this is actually canon! I do my research for fanfiction thank you very much lol). And you can bet they surprise each other by buying one another’s favorite foods all the time! 36. Do they have pet names for one another? In my fanfic I always have Hiccup come up with SO MANY for Anna, like in my Fire!Anna AU fanfic alone I have Fire Hazard, Firecracker, and probably a few others I can’t remember One headcanon I really like is that whenever Anna is especially ready to attempt to kick the ass of something she really should NOT fight (such as a giant snowman), Hiccup physically has to hold her back and goes “Whoa, slow down there, tiger” and this happens so frequently that eventually it gets shortened to just calling her Tiger XD And hey, with the orange hair and the feistiness, it still fits! As for Anna, she usually just calls Hiccup Dragon Boy or Nerd XD 37. How do they cheer each other up? I imagine Hiccup probably tries to distract Anna from whatever’s bothering her by making her laugh and talking in dumb accents or imitating his dad XD Anna would probably try to help Hiccup stay optimistic about a bad situation and try to point out the positives, but more in an encouraging way than like...an obnoxious, condescending “oh, it could be worse, count your blessings!” kind of way. And Anna has so much peppy energy about it that it actually does sometimes manage to pierce Hiccup’s cynicism and make him feel a bit better, if only for a little while before he starts once again imagining everything that could possibly go wrong XD 38. Do they show a lot of PDA? Eeeeeyup XD They looooove holding hands in public, and enjoy kissing dramatically in front of the sunset and such. I mean I imagine they don’t have hardcore makeout sessions in public or feel each other up sexually, if only because they don’t want to make people THAT uncomfortable. 39. How old were they when they got together? Depends on the AU you’re using and where in both their respective timelines they meet, but I imagine them meeting either as kids or in their early teens, and then taking so damn long to spit out how they feel that they don’t actually start dating until their late teens or early 20s. 40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home? If it’s a puppy? Probably Anna. If it’s a kitten or a weird, injured reptile? Deeeefinitely Hiccup. 41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses? They most certainly CANNOT. I like to think Elsa and Honeymaren tried to teach them one time and have a yoga double date (because of COURSE Elsa would suggest that) and it ended with Anna and Hiccup butchering every last pose, repeatedly falling on their asses, and generally having a bad time. Poor Elsa and Honeymaren had to work hard to keep from just losing their shit laughing. 42. What is their song? I mean...I don’t know what their like...OFFICIAL song is, but the songs “West End Kids” by the New Politics and “Paper Rings” by Taylor Swift have always had Big Hiccanna Energy to me. 43. What does their room look like? It’s divided pretty neatly in two. Hiccup’s side has a near-spotless floor, a desk with a perfectly-organized bookshelf and a very chic desk lamp, several movie posters and a hanging whiteboard with miscellaneous invention designs and reminders about random stuff written on it. Anna’s side looks like Hurricane Katrina just swept through, this time with a personal vendetta against snack wrappers. 44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded? Anna would absolutely be the sort to just fuckin tear through hoards of zombies screeching battle cries and knocking them all upside the head with a crowbar, or just straight plowing down an entire hoard with some freaking machine gun she stumbled on and taught herself how to use because she wanted to be badass XD Meanwhile Hiccup is absolutely grateful for the protection because Anna can fuck up a LOT of zombies at once, but he also has to keep the girl from going TOO crazy and accidentally putting her impulsive dumbass in grave peril XD 45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed? Hiccup, for sure. He’s used to being up pretty early because I imagine you get the most dragon-flying and exploring in if you wake up early, and he knows food is basically the only thing that will make Anna not hate getting up, so he makes her breakfast in bed as often as he can to make waking up suck less. And sure enough, after a while Anna starts to hate the morning just a liiiiittle bit less XD 46. Who loves kids more? Anna! Given how fun-loving and energetic she is, she probably loves hanging out with and being around kids. Hiccup likes kids fine, but he often feels kinda awkward and weird around them (I mean...more so than usual XD) because he isn’t sure how to interact with them. When they’re around kids, Hiccup usually follows Anna’s lead on how to talk to them. 47. Do either of them have a crazy ex? Well Anna’s ex attempted to use her to infiltrate and take over a kingdom and then tried to murder her sister so I mean 48. What are their favourite colours? Going by their canon color schemes, I’m guessing Anna’s would probably be like spring green and magenta, and Hiccup’s would be a more dark, foresty green and red. 49. Who likes to cook? Hiccup. Anna can’t cook for shit because she generally doesn’t have the patience for it and would just as soon live off of freezer food if she could because it’s less trouble XD Hiccup is good at making/building things, which actually translates to him being a pretty good chef. He makes Anna food a lot and she absolutely ADORES his cooking. 50. Who is the forgetful one? Anna. Gotta love that ADHD babeyyyy! (I mean I’m practically irl Anna and I am NOTORIOUSLY forgetful so it’s gotta be her XD)