#He did the bonk I am satisfied

[ladybirdswritings]

BEAUTY AND THE HYBRID - Klaus Mikaelson Fanfiction

summary: a slip of burlap rope brings an unsuspecting woman to a bloodthirsty hybrid.

warnings: mentions of ab*se, stockholm syndrome, captivity, dea*h, and violence.

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three

Painful throbbing, burning at my skull. It's warm, wet. The light filters through beige burlap weakly, making me squint. I try to sit up, but my body betrays me with its weakness.

"Apple please."

Soft hands shake me, a distant whisper echoing through my ringing ears.

"Birdie." My voice fails me, and my words are merely mouthed.

"I'm here, please get up."

She sounds so scared, but I can't remember why. Not now. The same soft hands gently pull at me, guiding me upright. This new position makes me yelp, pounding- drumming viciously at my skull in punishment for the shift. Blood rushes, making me dizzy. My body slumps backward, the floor is bumpy.

Small fingertips tug at the burlap till its ridded of. The light is unwelcome, I squint- eyes flooding with tears from the pain.

"Holy shit."

Birdie.

She has maneuvered her way onto her knees. Her brunette eyes are wide, urgent. Her palms, tied together alongside her ankles, press against the spot where my skull pounds most. When she pulls them back to analyze- they are stained crimson.

I wince.

She looks around urgently, but it seems as though there is nothing that satisfies her to help.

A van, we're in a van.

We hit a bump and it makes her fall back to the floor.

My gaze shifts toward the burlap sack once blinding me, it's all red. It's blood... my blood. I feel a drop of it fall down my temple.

Birdie struggles for a moment but manages to sit upright. As horrible as this situation looks, I cannot understand it. Not until Birdie speaks again.

"The case. Apple... they got the case."

I don't understand it at first. Birdie sees that when I furrow my brows... but it seems as though in an instant, it all floods back to me. The diner, The waitress, the case, the killers, and for some odd reason? The man with the piercing blue eyes.

Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck.

I can't stop it, I shake my bruised and bloodied head as my lips swell far too quickly for me to halt. They tremble, and my skull pounds harder as my tears begin to fall.

"Oh my god, oh my god..."

This is all my fault. We, my Birdie and stupid I, are trapped in a white van with vicious murderers all because of some mysterious case I had so I could afford Joel's meds.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Apple, hey its okay."

"Birdie did they hurt you? Tell me they didn't, oh my god..."

Her jaw is tense, she shakes her head immediately.

"No, they didn't I swear. They just bonked you. Really fuckin' hard.

I slump in relief. A very small amount of it.

My eyes close, images horrifying and unwelcome flooding my scattered mind. I breathe deep, the smell of my own blood nauseating me instantly. Still, I think of mom... I think of how she would handle this.

I center soon. Not because I am strong, but because in front of me is Birdie. My eyes open again.

"Okay. Okay, Birdie. We're okay, I'm gonna get us out of here, alright?"

She doesn't believe me, I can see it in those frightened eyes. If I believed in a force above, I would pray right now, beg him for all the answers I need. All I can think of is mom, and Joel.

Fuck. Joel.

His meds are in my purse, and he's just missed them. He's alone, he's worried.

The man isn't my biological father, he is Birdie's... but it never made him feel like any less of a dad to me... even if it was just one-sided.

But now? I've gone and fucked it all up, thinking I was going to save him. My tears threaten to poke at my gaze again but I stifle them, wincing as another droplet of blood travels down my sunken face. Down my cheekbone and jaw, dripping from my chin. My eyes watch as it falls, staining the lump in my pocket.

Birdie's gift...

Wait...

Birdie's gift!

"Birdie, listen... I need you to help me alright? Reach in my pocket and pull out the box."

She nods, doing so immediately with much struggle. Still? By some miracle she manages, even while bound by the burlap round her wrists. I instruct her to bring it to my teeth and I tug on the ribbon with them, using my nose to push the cover off.

"Holy shit, is this my gift?"

I smile sadly, "Happy birthday, Birdie."

She smiles back just the same. Birdie places the box in my lap and pulls the oak wood pocket knife with the engraving of a lightning bug upon it out from its olive box with cream ribbon. She shakily hands it to me just in time, just before another bump in the road sends her back on her bum.

My hands are weak, weak enough that it nearly makes me drop the gift from my grasp. One look at Birdie bound and it's enough to allow a shot of adrenaline to course through me. I meet my sister's suspicious eyes.

"Apple, it's a dull knife. We'll still be cutting by the time these assholes grab us again."

I shake my head at her,

"Birdie... the rope. It's burlap. Remember what Joel taught us in Haddonfield?"

A surge of remembrance and hope overtakes her gaze as she nods eagerly. Joel's voice echoes in my head.

"One cut, twist, pull, slam."

"I just need one good cut."

The knife is dull, very dull... but I am patient. I scrape the blade against the frayed burlap once, twice, thrice. No avail. Birdie frowns, knee bouncing as I repeat the same process four more times. The van is slowing now, just a bit. We gulp in unison.

"Try angling it more." She whispers, I nod.

Once, twice, thrice.

It's cut.

We both laugh in gratefulness and exasperation, and I glance upward to whatever imaginary or otherwise force looms above.

Please let this work.

Birdie and I speak and unison.

"One cut. Twist... pull... slam!"

I bring the burlap down on my knee in a quick motion and by some incredible grace? It snaps in two. We laugh again.

"Fuck yeah dude. Hurry!"

I create quick friction as I drag the blade back and forth upon the burlap on my ankles, once it's halfway split- I push both of my feet in opposite directions and the rope snaps again. My luck is slowly resurfacing.

I cannot control the hopeful tears that flood my eyes, I sniffle and wipe at them as I crawl to Birdie and begin working on the rope.

"Wait! Check the doors first."

She's right, we need to escape quick. Everything aches within me as I manage to drag myself to the metal doors at the very back of the van where we are caged. My luck once again dances in a joyous victory.

"It locks from the inside, bird."

She sighs in relief as I click the lock open.

"Some shitty kidnappers, huh?"

I smile at her humor, only to make her feel at ease but in actuality? I wasn't listening, only rushing back on all fours to keep cutting at the burlap rope. I make quick work of the wrists, as does she at breaking free. She flexes her fingertips happily.

"Just one more to go..." I whisper, cutting quickly at the burlap round her ankles.

"Okay bird, hard as you can, kick one foot out and one foot in." She nods, but god- she's small. Strong, but small. It doesn't work. Fear bites at the skin between her brows with a wrinkle.

"It's okay, its okay... again."

She tries harder this time, but the rope remains in tact. The van goes slower now.

"Fuck. Just go, Apple. Go!"

More tears flood me, fearful ones now. I grip her chin between by index and thumb, forcing her to look at my eyes. My voice is guttural.

"Hey. No, mm mm. I'm not leaving here without you, do you understand me? One more time, come on Birdie. Harder!"

She tries again, but nothing.

"Fuck!" I cry, sliding the blade back and forth upon the rope as quick as I can, as urgent as I can. Both of our eyes are wide, and even wider when we hear the doorknob to the front cab turn.

I drop the knife, not bothering with the stupid fucking thing any longer and I tug hard as I can on the rope, cutting up my palms red and splintered in the process.

We don't have time.

"Nonononono please, please god." I whisper.

The door opens.

"Hmm, maybe next time you start to play with my locks- you'll think about who's in control of them." The man, jet black hair and suited towers over us.

I push Birdie to the corner and grasp the knife in my unstable, sliced palms.

"Hey, get the fuck back!" I spit, but it only makes the man smirk.

"Oh how sweet and incredibly stupid of you. What a brave sister."

I yelp as he makes quick work of bending my wrist back in a direction it wasn't crafted to be in. The knife falls, clattering against the floor as the van speeds up again. Quickly, urgently for some reason.

"He's on us, El!"

"Then faster, you imbecile!"

My wrist is still bent, but the pain becomes white noise when I gaze up at the man for the first time since the diner.

I chill, immediately.

"You've been enough trouble... Stupidly so, you've made me hungry from all the work you've been."

Horrible, gray veins protrude from under reddened eyes. Sharp teeth emerging from that once perfect smile. Stalking me, prey.

My god.

He's a monster.

I shrink, hoping Birdie is smart enough to just close her eyes. She isn't.

"Die, motherfucker!"

She sticks him in the side with the pocket knife, yet I know my sister. She knows it isn't enough.

"Birdie!"

She ignores my cry, desperate and brave she is, pushing my body back with so much force I didn't know she could harness. I fall through the doors, the pavement greeting me harshly, slamming against me as my body rolls amongst it from the speed the van once travelled.

Birdie doesn't follow.

The same spot that throbs slams against cold road seven more times, till my vision is blurred and the concrete is flooded red. All of it hurts, all at once, so much so that I cannot pinpoint the pain anymore- only my exhaustion. I stop, eventually.

The sun mocks my unwilling eyes, meshing the clouds together to a mess of gray. A storm looming. My body betrays me once more, I can't bare to keep my eyes open any longer. I fight it still, weak, soft blinks before they fall shut.

I am fighting.

Birdie.

Voices. Distant but somehow close.

"My god."

Stiletto steps near me quickly, two fingers as icy as the palms upon me earlier press themselves against my neck. It's a woman, now. Another golden blonde, I think.

I part my lips, I can't speak. I can't cry out.

"It's miraculous Nik, for a human. She has a pulse. How on god's green earth did she survive that?"

Birdie. It's because of Birdie.

Boots near me upon the same pavement that bloodied me.

"Must be a miracle, Rebekah. Gather her, we need to regroup."

The fallen angel, the honey, that voice.

I'm exhausted. I can't listen any longer.

The voices are distant again, I am at peace.

[twstbookclub]

Words of Love

Summary: Ace could be better at a relationship. How could it be? He never learned how. Instead of being taught, he was attacked by his ex-girlfriend's friends for not doing something. It'll be different this time. You'll make sure of that. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Ace Trappola, Slight comedy, Romance, Fluff, First date with Ace, Ice skating date, Ace is still a little shit Word Count: 1,041

A/N: Man... The amount of trouble I had writing a smitten Ace who didn't want to admit his feelings was like whiplash. I thought I knew how to write the boy, but I was wrong. Honestly, this could've been done better, and maybe I'll rewrite one when I can, but I am still satisfied with this one. Thank you for reading!

Ace was a good person, and it was surprising to see him come up to you to ask you out. Though, as soon as you said yes, he ran off while trying to act all cool? Then he would give you a winter hat and a pair of gloves, only saying, “Make sure to wear them to our date” and leave it at that. You did like him, that part was admittable, but as for the reason why—

“Good Seven, I can tell why his ex-girlfriend was into him… But I can tell why she left him,” you whispered while watching Ace grab food from the building’s cafe. He’s a sweet kid, really, but…

GEEZ, THE AWKWARD TENSION IS UNBEARABLE.

You sighed and looked towards Ace, staring briefly before smiling and looking down at the ground. The atmosphere was filled with screams, laughs, and the scraping of blades against ice, since Ace decided to surprise you with a date to an ice skating rink on your day off before winter break began. It was his way of spending time with you, but how could you blame him for trying?

He’s such a mess, and he can be too blunt for one’s comfort—not to mention a slacker… but he’s cute.

What? Gotta give credit where credit is due, right? Anyway…

“Oi, how are you feeling?” Ace asked while walking back to you and setting down the food on the table, then he fixed his scarf that was hanging off your neck. He felt cold to the touch, but how could he not? He sacrificed his warmth to give it to you, then he let you fall on your ass right after. How fun.

“Hmm… I’m warmer than I was before, but I’m still in pain thanks to someone letting me fall,” you responded sarcastically, knowing it would strike a nerve within the boy. After that, you took a fry from his meal and ate away, as if indifferent to his offense.

“Hey! I said I was sorry, and I’m buying you food. Is that not enough for forgiveness?” He spoke with that look again—the sharp edges of his eyes softening, brows furrowed, and lips pulled into a frown. It wasn’t the usual harsh scowl, but it was… more gentle and hesitant.

It was something he had done quite a bit tonight.

You snapped your head at him and raised an eyebrow. “That’s the bare minimum, Ace! Is this how you treated your girlfriend from middle school?”

He went quiet, but not from anger. He started thinking, really. The fact that he had to think about it was concerning enough as is.

“Honestly…” He said, still pondering. “I never really did this kind of stuff for her.”

“Oh. My. Seven.” You could only sigh from disappointment, wondering how such a good guy could be so… clueless. You ran a hand through your hair, before standing up and giving him back his jacket.

“Ace, you’re a great person. You know that, you even boast about it sometimes—which kudos to you for that.”

Ace raised an eyebrow at your words since he was only hearing compliments. This made him shiver in his timbers, for a lack of a better word in this description. “Buuuut…?”

“Get yourself together!” You yelled, giving him a bonk on the head afterwards for dramatic effect.

“Ow! Fine, geez.” Ace sighed, putting his jacket back on you again and fixing your hair. “Yeah, I’m pretty clueless on this relationship and romance stuff—”

Oh really? Didn’t know that.

“—I rarely took my past girlfriend out on dates or hangouts, not even to walk around. You’re different,” Ace said with a sincere look in his eye, but his view wasn’t directed at you. It was towards the floor. You could only sigh and move your hand to hold his. 

“Ace…” You started, took a breath, then looked at him with a small smile. “You're a great guy on your own. I don't need you to impress me in some way just because I'm someone you want to be with.”

“I know, but you're different from others who've confessed, different from my middle school relationship, and I… really want to be with you,” he said carefully, giving your hand a squeeze for his own reassurance. The love in his eyes just made the moment a lot sweeter.

You felt your heart begin to melt. You knew having a crush on him was so right, but you just needed to find the reason why. You move your other hand to his cheek to make him look at you directly.

“Then, just do what you think is right. Go with the flow and we can figure the rest out together. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your words and touch made Ace relax, and he slowly gave you a snarky grin. “What I think is right, you say?” His tone was mischievous, and before you knew it, he pulled you back onto the ice rink.

“Hey–! What are you doing!? Ace!” You yelled, seeing him start to move around with you on the ice. He laughed at you and moved slowly so as to not hurt you, even keeping you close until you could get the hang of it.

“Come on! I took you out to have fun, so fun we'll have!” Ace said with a laugh, keeping you close while pulling you with him.

The ice made the place cold and the spins would make you dizzy, but it couldn't compare to the warmth you both began to feel for one another, like hearts intertwining into one.

After the date, he was walking you home, hand in hand, unable to look towards your direction. You noticed this and smiled, wanting to tease him about it.

“Look at you… All smiles. I've never seen this from you before.”

“I've never had someone tell me I could be myself. My ex was wanting me to change for her, but where's the fun in that?” Ace said, making both of you laugh.

Finally, he let you go before you got to your door. He watched you again with those eyes, the ones you grew accustomed to in those few hours. Who knew words would have meant so much?

[ephemeral--dreams]

snow angel

Eichi Tenshouin/Reader

Word count: 507

Notes: he's so silly

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Not even the walk back to the dorms could be peaceful when you were with Eichi, could it? He simply had to make things more entertaining for himself. Oh, you wished Wataru were here. At least he could keep Eichi in line. Usually. Except when he was enabling him.

Nonetheless!

"Look, look. We have to take advantage of the snow."

And so here you were, with Eichi flopped down into freshly fallen snow.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm a snow angel…♪"

"You're going to catch a cold," You admonish as you look down at him. Unfortunately, you didn't sound nearly as scolding as you wanted to; he really did look cute when he started acting so childish. It was such a stark contrast to how he behaved at work or on stage. He really did look like some sort of angel.

"You're no fun~"

"Is it going to be fun for you when you get sick?"

"Well, I'll simply make you nurse me back to health."

"That's not how this works-"

He took the opportunity to cut you off, a quick hand darting out to grab yours and drag you right down with him. On top of him, rather, free hand catching yourself before you ended up crashing together. Eichi tilted his head, eyes glinting teasingly. "That was meant to end in a kiss, you know. Ruining my plans, are you?"

"Keeping us both from getting a concussion from our heads bonking together, more like…" You huffed out, breath clouding with his in the chilly air. "You're very troublesome."

"Now you sound like Keito… You say it as if you don't enjoy it when I'm troublesome. I, for one, am having a great time~"

"Of course you are. Come on, we've got to get out of the snow."

"Hmm…" Eichi considered it for a long moment. "Give me a kiss and maybe I'll consider it."

Bribery, was it? You weren't above it. "Fine, then."

You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, meaning for it to be quick, but soon found him deepening it. Eichi's stubbornness showed even here, as he didn't let you pull away until he was satisfied. Your cheeks were red from more than just the cold as you caught your breath. Eichi smiled.

"Well? Are we going to go inside now? You're the one who was so insistent on it, but I'm not against staying-"

"We are not staying out here! We are going inside and you are getting dried off before you land yourself in the hospital just because you decided to be too silly, and…" You continued ranting at him as you tugged him out of the snow and forced him to follow you to the dorms. He wasn't going to get out of trouble just because he was pretty!

Not that it was punishment for him at all, when all you did was sit him down with a blanket and tea.

(…He did, in fact, get a cold. And he whined to you about it the entire time.)

[oddinary4bts]

Can I tell you how much I loved Sinful Lust?

The whole drama of being carried away by kust but not seeing how things fall apart as a result of them no matter how unintentionally is really well written.

Your fans are divided into camps now, for OC, for Yoongi and for JK, and it's pretty impressive.

TBH, I am a cynic at heart and took like a birds-eye view of it and couldn't help but want to bonk the OC on her head.

Concerned OC's OLDER BEST FRIEND MODE ON

Like...lady what were you thinking?

How to win back your boyfriend 101.

1. Choose a guy in your circle your BF kinda thinks is cute, who is very straight

2. Offer a wild threesome romp to said guy who is very straight (obviously he will focus on YOU not your BF, leaving him out, didn't you realise???)

3. Focus on making sure said newcomer gets complete satisfaction and extra one on one attention coz we can't leave the new guy out and HAVE to satisfy him!

4. Wonder why your BF checked out.

5. BF spends time apart, choose someone else *surprised pikachu face*

🙄 OC, you need a reality check.

You're deluding yourself if yiu think you've been doing your BF a favour. Queer people can figure out if someone who is straight is not into them. It can even feel offensive to start such a dynamic. Yoongi may have found JK attractive but would have known enough that JK wouldn't have given him the time of day without you in the mix.

Yoongi would have known where the attention was going, both with you and JK. People sense these things.

THE WAY TO ONE MAN'S HEART IS NOT THROUGH ANOTHER MAN'S DICK.

I love you dearie and hope you heal. But you gotta be practical.

Hugs and healing power to you, OC long distance.

Yeahhh honestly I think OC wasn’t really thinking when she chose Jungkook. She just wanted to make Yoongi happy, and didn’t realize that Jungkook probably was the wrong choice for that. To be fair, Jungkook did do bisexual stuff for Yoongi tho! But yeah, Yoongi definitely can tell that Jungkook is into OC and not him.

“The way to one man’s heart is not through another man’s dick” HAHAHAHAHA I died😂😂 very true tho

OC had her reality check now tho🫣 so what will happen next, huh??

Thank you for reading✨ I’m really happy you love the story🫶🏼

[amynchan]

Before I moved, I finally got to visit great-grandma's grave. I finally got the location, and I finally got to go down and see her. I never met great-grandpa, but I did meet great-grandma. To be honest, I don't have vivid memories of my own. Whatever I do remember is always assisted by a picture.

But I remember that she loved me. I remember that she cared, and I felt that care. I felt it so, so, so much. That's why it hurt when no one told me she'd died and been dead for three days and I wasn't allowed to go to her funeral. She was just gone one day, and I can't even remember how traumatic that is, but I can feel echoes of it.

But I got to finally see her grave site. To be honest, I didn't know what I'd say. I dreamed of the moment for forever. I imagined telling her about myself and about how I've grown up. I imagined that I'd feel her pride in me.

I did. I thought it over and over and over again. But what happened was actually different.

First, my grandma and grandpa and I kinda... went on an adventure finding her grave site. We went up and down and walked all over that graveyard to find her. I figured they'd know where she was like the back of their hand, but it turns out that the landmarking tree they used back then has since been cut down, and the lake was redone. The landscape was as confusing to them as it was to me, so we searched for ages for those headstones.

When we finally found them (because obviously great-grandma is buried next to great-grandpa), I helped grandma wipe off their name plates. They weren't dirty by any means, but we were able to make them glisten again. At that point, I knew where they were, so I didn't really feel the need to say anything at that point. For the first time in ages, I felt I could relax about it.

She was there. I finally knew where she was.

So my grandparents and I left that day, and I came back, alone, the next week. I didn't have to pick over all of the graveyard again. I remembered where she was, and I went back with an umbrella, because the last time I stayed outside to pay respects to someone no longer in this world, I got second degree burns on my shoulders from the sun.

So. Finally. I was finally there. it had been over twenty years, I think. She died in 2001. I always thought I'd feel satisfied telling her about my life, so I started off with that.

But it didn't feel right. Not really.

So I stopped sticking to the script. I went off a bit. I remember telling her that I missed her and that there were times I really wanted her back, but that didn't make me feel much better.

It wasn't until I started telling her about my siblings that I started feeling better. She'd met my younger sister, but she had never met my youngest sibling. When I realized that she'd never met someone I consider so wholly important to me, I had to tell her about them.

Then I realized that she never knew how many great grandchildren she has. She's got at least 13 now. When she died, she had 3-4. I spent a long time catching her up. Telling her about the strengths of each of her grandbabies.

Because I know. I know that if she met them, she would have loved each of them the way she loved me. I just know it. She would love every little rascal, every confident stride, every proud picture, every bruised knee and harmless bonk. She would have adored each of them in different ways. It's important that she heard about them.

She never got to watch my sister grow her cunning and her care. She's more emotionally agile and intelligent than most of us. She never got to watch my brother grow out of his 'cooties' phase. He's got the biggest heart and throws himself into helping people so much that I honestly worry about him sometimes. She never got to watch me find my place. It was a long journey, but I think she'd be proud of who I am now. She never got to meet anyone else; know their names or learn their hobbies or likes or dislikes. But when I sat at her grave and told her about them. About each little name and face, about how important they are to me, it made me feel like she could see, just for a moment, how big and beautiful her family's become.

That's when I felt better. It wasn't that she left, I don't think. It was that no one told me, and I couldn't talk to her anymore. She was in a place I couldn't talk to her; I couldn't tell her about joyful things anymore. After that, and knowing what I've been told about my own reaction to her passing, I'm pretty sure that's it. I missed telling her about joyful things.

I know that she's not in her body anymore. Wherever she is, she's not there. But being able to put a distinct place to her. To say that 'you are here, and I can talk to you here' was so important. And it took me a while to figure out what I wanted to say, but I'm glad that I finally was gifted the time to do that.

I miss her sometimes; I always will. But it doesn't hurt anymore. I was able to tell her about how beautiful life is. About how much we've grown, and I know, deep in me, that she's proud.

of me. of us. of all of us.

And that's just. A gift.

[biblioflyer]

Legacy should be more than legacy.

A wish list for Legacy that embraces as best as it can the warring tribes of Star Trek and could avoid another "The Last Jedi" scenario.

People who have read my Season Three commentary will know that I am far from the last person to cry "memberberry" (did I spell that right? I actually really dislike the concept.)

In processing the broad swath of fandom reaction, it breaks down into a few categories worth thinking about:

People who enjoyed it and see no flaws.

People who enjoyed it in spite of the flaws.

People who disliked it for narrative reasons.

People who disliked it for "meta" reasons.

I would say I'm firmly in that second category. Take for instance Jack Crusher. There's a lot of commentary about him that strikes me as bizarre. A backlash to the implication that there is a portion of the fanbase that is uncritically fawning over him. A segment of the fanbase that I have yet to encounter, although I will admit to not having sought it out.

My initial reaction was to dislike the character for both narrative and meta reasons. Narratively I thought his very existence ran counter to a lot of preconceived notions I had about what the "definitive" version of Jean luc and Beverly are, whether or not they'd even conceive, and if they did how they would handle it. Frankly I felt their relationship had largely been put to bed late in TNG's run and in a very mature way. Not everyone who loves each other needs to be in a relationship or actively bonking. This is a lesson I myself have learned in the fallout of relationships after coming to terms with certain incompatibilities while retaining affection for the whole person in spite of the illogic of maintaining a conventional romantic relationship.

The meta reasons are that he's rather clearly "replaced" in some sense both Elnor and Wesley, although they are both alluded to in the dialogue. I do believe its reasonable to assume we were meant to insert either Elnor or Picard's ex post facto reconciliation with his memories of his father into what is left unstated when he says he would never have been his father. Beverly also references losing both a husband and a son to the stars that Picard was infatuated with.

However, I held my own feelings about this loosely enough that the character was able to prove to me that he "deserved" to exist. That he could be an interesting part of the story.

I was not any less disappointed by the absence of Elnor and Wesley not showing up at all seems completely daft, but the narrative made a satisfying argument to me that Jack could have a place in the story if I was willing to give a little.

As I told the Anon who messaged a while back to say I was being snotty to people who prefer more plausible and immersive worldbuilding and less of the camp and contrivances (and presumably the "memberberries" although I would not want to put words in your mouth if you're still following):

Star Trek belongs to all of us. I believe in a big tent fandom.

Which is why I think that if there is to be a "Star Trek Legacy" it needs to not so much move on from fan service, but to be holistic in its fan service. A particular kind of TNG fan got love bombed by Season Three. I find no sin in this but this also isn't the ideal format for an entire series.

I have repeatedly made note that I think the entire Enterprise-G stuff is not ideal. I don't think the starship service pathway makes sense for Seven, Raffi, or Jack. I think it does a disservice to their character arcs and the broader argument that Star Trek Picard has been making that Starfleet is not the sole source of moral authority in the universe. There are other valid ways to do much needed and good work in the universe. The Fenris Rangers being one example. Jack and Beverly acting as a sort of "Doctors Without Borders" in space being another.

I also don't believe in petty retcons and I do recognize the symbolism of re-christening a heroic ship that is already filled with heroic people "Enterprise" in order to say that what makes Starfleet great isn't its scientific acumen, how many cool gadgets can be stuffed into a frame, or the number and potency of its phasers and photon torpedo launchers, but rather the courage, grace, and openness of its people.

It is in someways symbolic that a path that began with the Federation putting itself between the Romulans and the Synths has now hit another mile marker: with a crew of people who are willing to bend rules in the name of radical decency we are returning to a more "bottom up" Starfleet.

That we arguably already have this in the form of Strange New Worlds is beside the point.

So duly noting that I would have preferred something more like Star Trek La Sirena with our more anarchist characters doing their own thing in their way plugging the gaps that Starfleet can't plug for itself for all of the reasons that Shaw continuously argued, I'm going to lay out a vision of how Star Trek Legacy could be awesome.

Now do DS9

I've long been captivated by the idea of a show that is inspired by the Global War on Terror and the occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan, but not in the same way that Enterprise or Picard were. Originally my thought was that the post Dominion War Cardassian space would be a good setting for this. Show the reconstruction and the painful work of trying to knit Cardassian society back together and trying to create something that is both pluralistic and functional.

Now I am skeptical of the potential of the real world analogs of post war Cardassia (Iraq and Afghanistan) to have been successful regime changes even under conditions of maximum cultural sensitivity on the part of the occupier and the prudent allocation of resources rather than wildly throwing money at problems in ever growing boondoggles that are utterly useless to the people on the ground but sound logical to the vulture capitalists and well intentioned but largely clueless political scientists infesting the State Department and the staffs of politicians. Consequently I would be very wary of normalizing the idea of military occupations.

However, Starfleet is a good vehicle for exploring the ins and outs of trying to rebuild a society shattered by war. Something that is even more relevant than it was when DS9 first started dabbling in this with its stories centering Bajor.

Now if we're to keep going under the assumption that its been more than two decades since the Dominion War, we could update this to the Romulan resettlement zone. Dropping this storyline like a hot potato after season one is one of my great frustrations with Picard because I desperately wanted to see explicit confirmation that the Federation had indeed been thoroughly shamed into rediscovering its wide eyed, do gooder spirit.

With Discovery and Picard ending, there is a space for a serialized narrative show. While I am very wary of this based on how not great the meta-narratives of Discovery and Picard have been and the addiction to epic stakes, I think it could be done and done well.

So an opportunity presents itself to tie up other loose ends.

Nazi Hunting and Church Committees

Give me more Raffi/Worf buddy cop action.

Give me accountability for Section 31.

Give me justice for the Romulans.

Justice for Elnor!

Put Seven, Raffi, and Jack's skillsets and personality to their best use.

How?

Bring back Sloan.

Whoa whoa whoa. Don't click away. Hear me out. You've read this far.

Project Phoenix? That wasn't for Kirk.

Here's the setup. Section 31 was lobotomized by Sloan's death. By its very nature Section 31 was set up in a set of cells with no one but Sloan knowing the full picture. Independent cells were able to keep going after but after the agency's existence became public knowledge, their existence became ever more precarious. Their list of allies in Starfleet growing ever thinner as their collaborators were exposed or burned Section 31 to prevent exposure. They needed Sloan or at least the contents of his head to find more safe houses, caches, and closets with skeletons in them.

Laris catches wind of Sloan via old contacts. This time its Jean luc who is off world on business and doesn't need to know the details.

With the assistance of Worf and Raffi, a team is assembled to pursue Sloan. The Enterprise-G as it happens, is already there on an errand of mercy making good on almost two decades of back owed aide.

Already aboard? At least two individuals with relevant knowledge and an axe to grind:

Elim Garak, plain, simple reconstruction and conflict resolution specialist.

Julian Bashir, frontier medicine and medical infrastructure reconstruction expert.

If the performers are down for it, I'm okay with canonizing them as queer representation. I'm not necessarily a big shipper in general, but I'm not anti-ship.

Elnor's affinity with the Sisters of the Absolute Candor would also feature in as the Sisters are about as likely to love Section 31 as they do the Tal'Shiar.

Jack is...slightly expendable. Not because he's a bad character but because I'm scratching my head trying to figure out how he's not redundant skills wise. His knowledge of the less savory parts of the galaxy would be a bit fresher than Seven and unlike her, he's not the Captain. Overall I think that he should hew closer to his mother in this role because I think the Jack that was doing orderly work was more interesting than action hero Jack. Him being a legitimate counselor would also be an interesting twist as we have yet to see a male mental health worker in Trek IIRC.

For more like this check out my other essays reevaluating Star Trek Picard and interrogating the widely held fandom criticism that Picard made the Federation into a Dystopia.

[frogs-in3-hills]

oki oki a short reflection on dgs case one because i like doing these and recording my initial thoughts so i can look back on them

this was a pretty solid 1st case! ryuunosuke had a really satisfying little miniarc of becoming more assertive and i am very proud of him ^_^ he is soooo autistic btw. he struggles to get the right words out because he’s trying to conform to societal conventions that he doesn’t actually understand?? check. he’s constantly asking clarifying questions like “what do you mean by that?” when people try to imply stuff or otherwise not say exactly what they mean?? check. and a little cliche but that photographic memory though. hmm. am i projecting or is this real

the pacing wasn’t stellar imo, i thought a lot could have been expedited/cut out and it would still be satisfying, and as a traditional mystery i thought it was on the weaker side, i didn’t feel like the trial really flowed from point to point, instead it just kind of tangented and tangented until it reached some semblance of a point that didn’t seem to disprove ryuunosuke’s guilt at all until the very last minute. ultimately though i still enjoyed it and quite a few story beats really caught my eye and are making me really excited to see what comes next!!

first of all asougi is a delight and i love him, he’s is definitely servings some “lawful paladin type chooses the path of self-destruction” vibes especially with the stuff about how his sword guides him, is the spirit of his clan, he will use it to cut through any opposition, etc…. not to mention he’s obviously very ambitious. not gonna lie he’s kinda wearing the shirt though….. he feels very mia fey to me and then he offered to go out to get food with ryuunosuke just like mia offered to get drinks w/ nick……… hi hello do u remember what happened to mia after that. SHE GOT BONKED. i’m just saying IT COULD HAPPEN he seems like a sweet friend though i can’t wait to see what kind of emotional crisis he will be having in this game <3

liking the specific setting and implied cultural influences a lot!! can’t quite say what i think is going to happen with that bc i honestly have no clue, but i do love some political intrigue so i really hope we see more of this kind of stuff in the story! ik the mainline second trilogy likes to tackle themes of systemic change and stuff which would be awesome if they could just stick the landing, so hopefully those kind of thing will be handled in a more interesting way/it doesn’t fall flat in this game

i have never hated the animation in the 3ds titles but i think i like the general look of this game more than like, dual destinies, the way dgs plays with camera angles seems more natural than it did in dd, which kind of made it feel like they were throwing in new angles just because they could even though they didn’t look that great. though i would like to see more characters and sprites that take advantage of the increased capabilities of 3d models etc etc, since that was something i thought dd did really well.

also is ryuunosuke going to get accused of something again?? because i saw like a screenshot in the trailer of susato watching him and he’s wearing handcuffs which i was expecting to happen in the first case. but it did not. so hopefully we will not have to defend ourselves again acsjhdj i do like the concept as a story beat but i think aai-2 poisoned me against that one a little (despite this is still think athena should have defended herself in turnabout for tomorrow but whateverrr whatever. whatever)

probably not going to get too far but yeagh i think im gonna continue to the next case and see what’s up. cheers

[ineffable-opinions]

BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen (2023)

Review: Didn’t work for me. Rating: 5/10

Summary: BL actors hesitantly fall in love while their managers bonk.

Pairing: gekokujou - younger actor (who is also an otaku & a stan) X older actor (struggling to move on from his child actor past) Side CP: talent manager (kuuru joousama S) X talent manager (tsukushi ) BL in BL CP: salaryman seme X ex-delinquent uke

What I liked:

# Managers

They were so good. The push and pull between them was solid. With the limited screen time they had as a CP, they did an excellent job. This CP was very well written and acted so much so that it had me thinking – what went wrong with the creation and execution of the main CP. Especially in the bar scene. That was perfect. I am not sure with how short the scene was but was it a short seme X tall uke pairing?

# Show CP

I have mixed feelings. An ex-yanki turn salary man being chased by a persevering co-worker: this premise is enough to raise my heartrate. Akutsu Nichika performed as Aoyanagi Hajime (acting as Mitsutani Haruhi) did a very good job dubbing that character. I didn’t like his acting, especially in any of the back-hug scenes. I wish he would turn to voice-acting cause I would love to listen to him. Abe Alan was good as Akafuji Yuichiro acting as Momoshiro in the show – especially the super stiff acting at the beginning and the dazzling performance at the end of shooting.

# Agokui that changed my allegiance

Akafuji pulled it off agokui with both his love interest and his love rival and I was partial to the latter so much so that I wanted Kuromiya X Akafuji CP.

# Wardrobe and setting

Wardrobe was pretty colorful. Moreover, it brought out the moods and personalities of the characters.

Seeing Tokyo Tower in the background many times was also very satisfying.

# Unknown Forces

Whether or not to include the kiss scene is decided by unknown forces whose whims changes. Not only did the show not deliver even the most obvious with cohabitation, only one bed and shared times, but also the kiss scene was like a figment of imagination. Fourth wall flaw in action.

It reminded me of watching Miguel (Duarte Gomes) and Paulo (Pedro Carvalho) kiss in Beijo do Escorpião and then watching Os Nossos Dias where the apparent kiss between Xavier (Sisley Dias) and David (Duarte Gomes) was not shown because Portuguese national broadcast channel RTP1 which aired the show censored the kiss. I was puzzled but that experience taught me that legal same-sex marriages and censorship of same-sex affection can go hand-in-hand. And that ultimately the unknown forces decide what gets published.

But then Os Nossos Dias was followed by Beijo do Escorpião and not the other way around.

What I didn’t like:

# Stan what stan

The show kept saying that is Akafuji Yuichiro is Aoyanagi Hajime’s stan. He had the merch to show for it – so much so that he seemed to be living in a shrine dedicated to his idol. But he wasn’t there where it mattered. We didn’t see him having fan accounts on social media. He did not post anything on social media in support of Aoyanagi Hajime especially in support for his role in a BL. His silence when Aoyanagi Hajime could find no support online was particularly harrowing. This is the worst stan portrayal ever.

Moreover, other than knowing tit-bits about birthday and food he liked, Akafuji didn’t connect with his stan at all. Maybe this was because of the backstory about being otaku and the validation Aoyanagi offered. Akafuji did not stan Aoyanagi as the talent he is supposed to be. Moreover, he felt that his stan self was incongruent with loving Aoyanagi as a person. This makes no sense since Akafuji was drawn to Aoyanagi as a person and not as a talent in the first place.

This reminded me of the short yet satisfying fan X idol romance set in the entertainment industry: 《想鹿非非[娱乐圈]》by 莫里. The fan in this danmei is very good at compartmentalizing. There is an excellent scene, after the pair got together, in this novella: the fan buys water for the rest of the fans on the idol’s behalf because he knows the pleasure of being acknowledged by one’s idol, which is very different from being acknowledged by the person who happens to be the idol.

I think I might not have had an issue with Akafuji if his stan persona was well done. Then I could treat Aoyanagi the person being the target of his stanning as a character flaw that he should leave behind to fully embrace Aoyanagi as his lover. But the show made it look like Akafuji being stan is his flaw. This basically undid the otaku validation that was made out to be motivational in his younger days and was counter-productive in establishing that the pair is good for each other.

# Boring main CP

They had an ex-yanki turn salary man uke bring pursued by a pushy co-worker CP in the BL they are shooting. The side CP was also pretty cool. However, the main CP didn’t work for me.

# Passing mention of “Baki the Grappler”

This is not the show’s fault. It is a personal hurt and that passing mention of Yujiro Hanma when was Akafuji giving Aoyanagi a piggy-back ride just tore into the wound. We might even get another installment of Zettai BL, yet no sign of Grappler Baki wa BL dewa nai ka to Kangaetsuzuketa Otome no Kirokutsutsu (2021) getting international release. So, I want to beg someone, anyone, please provide subtitles and take away this hurt.  

[crackinglamb]

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"? (and) 🌿how does creating make you feel? (*bonk bonk* 😘)

🤍 - Less the fic and more just one chapter of it. There's a part in WG where Imogen does something that's heinous. To her, anyway. And she immediately feels guilty and horrible and withdraws from Solas. There were some people who didn't seem to catch the first part, and only thought she was pulling away from him because he actually did the thing. I ended up adding in some more dialogue to make it clear.

🌿 - In no particular order: on fire, excited, exhausted, miserable, like my brain is leaking out of my ears, like my soul has ascended to a higher plane, satisfied, cranky, nervous (yes, I get nervous), accomplished, gratified and, in short, wonderful. 😁 I wouldn't know who I am without creativity. It is the foundation of my existence.

Thanks for the asks. *bonk bonk* 😘

From this list.

[nightingaelic]

How about New Vegas companions react to the courier returning from Dead Money?

I've had a few people request the courier's return from the Sierra Madre, usually with some flavor of trauma attached. This one didn't have any specific sad details, so it's a little more lighthearted. Stay tuned for the heartbreaking rendition that's deeper in my inbox.

While the courier was undeniably an important figure in the Mojave that had taken shape over the past few years, it wasn't so fragile that it fell to bits if they up and disappeared for a bit. Once the courier figured this out, they took full advantage of the opportunity to high-tail it into the brush, especially when someone came complaining about a faction they had dealings with or when President Kimball sent an emissary to the Strip's caretaker. As such, only the courier's companion was anxious when their latest vanishing trick stretched out into a month-long absence, and they practically bowled them over when they once again walked in the doors of the Lucky 38.

Arcade Gannon: "Six!" Arcade yelped, grabbing at their coat, their pack, every piece of them that might give him an inkling as to why they were delayed for so long. "You're alive!"

"I am!" the courier agreed, somewhat surprised by the researcher's frantic response to their arrival. "Were you expecting something different?"

"You're alive!" Arcade repeated, before giving them a mild bonk on the head. "No word of where you were going, who you were supposed to meet, the route you took... no wonder nobody knows who you were before Benny tried to take you out, you're the absolute worst about sharing information!"

"Uncalled-for, but okay," the courier muttered, rubbing the spot where he'd thumped them. "I was in the Sierra Madre. I thought I told you I was headed out there."

"Told me?!?" Arcade put a hand to his forehead. "You wandered out one night after we talked about weird radio broadcasts we'd picked up over the years! One weapon, barely any supplies, not even a note-"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" The courier put their hands on his shoulders. "Look, I'm fine, see? No limbs missing, no new diseases or appendages, just a few more nightmares and enough gold to buy the NCR off if they come asking questions about Enclave remnants again."

"You know, not every disease you pick up is gonna announce itself, Six," Arcade said, still somewhat bitter. "But it doesn't mean you're not infecting every wastelander you come across while you're gallivanting around... wait, did you say gold?"

Craig Boone: "I thought we were a team," Boone said as he blocked the casino's entrance with his broad shoulders. "You can't keep running off on your spotter, Six."

"Boone." To the sniper's surprise, the courier dropped their travel pack and threw their arms around him. "I missed you, too."

Boone shifted uncomfortably at first, but he finally sank into the moment and gathered them in, letting go of his pent-up frustration and anxiety a little bit at a time. The silence of the casino floor settled in around them, and their relieved breathing was loud in his ear. It sounded better than anything Mr. New Vegas had played on the radio in the last month.

When the courier finally drew back, they were smiling. "I'm sorry," they said. "I know you worry. If I'd been able to come back sooner, I would've."

Boone nodded. "Something kept you?"

"More like someone." The courier made a face. "He's dead now. All is right with the world. Long story."

"Good." Boone swallowed the last of his distress and gestured at the elevator. "Tell it over a drink?"

"God, yes."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin!" Lily grabbed the courier before they could maneuver around her and picked them up in a loving embrace. Their belongings fell to the ground around them, but Lily didn't put the courier down until she was satisfied they were in one piece. "You worried your Grandma so," she said in a disappointed tone when she finally did.

"I'm sorry, Lily." The courier looked up at her apologetically. "I got stuck for a while. I tried to come back to you as quickly as I could."

"Oh, it's okay, dearie." Lily couldn't stay mad at her surrogate grandchild, and she smiled gently and stooped down to help them pick up their scattered supplies. "The important thing is you made it home okay. Don't you worry, Grandma has big plans for dinner, and she's kept your bed made with extra pillows, just how you like it."

"You're too good to me." The courier accepted their fallen pack from her and slung it over their shoulder again. "And you were right. I shouldn't have followed that lady on the radio."

Lily frowned. "Did she hurt you?"

"No." The courier took her hand and squeezed it. "She wasn't real. Well, she was, but she hasn't been around for a long time. Some greedy man took her place, and I had to deal with him before I could get out and shut off the broadcast."

"It sounds like quite the story, pumpkin." Lily squeezed their hand. "How about you tell Grandma the whole thing tonight over some brahmin steaks and sweet tato stew?"

"I'd love that, Lily."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Oye, Six," Raul said warmly, gathering them into his arms. "Cómo te va? I was about ready to write your obituary or something."

"Maybe you should've," the courier joked, wearily accepting the hug. "I could fake my own death like you're always threatening to and get the hell out of this town."

Raul clapped a hand to his forehead. "Me hieres. You'd run out on me, boss?"

"Nah." The courier smiled at him and took a step back to shake the dust off their coat. "I'm too fond of you and your stories about post-war shenanigans. I hope you don't mind, I shared a few of the best ones with some friends I made over the past few weeks. Moral support purposes, you know."

"Moral support?" Raul's eyes narrowed. "And what sorts of problemas were you stirring up this time?"

The courier grinned. "For once, I wasn't doing the stirring. I made out pretty well in the end, though. Here."

They slipped a gold bar out of their pack and tossed it to the old ghoul. Raul caught it in surprise, turned it over a few times, and finally put it to his mouth to give it a soft bite. Sure enough, it came away with the indent from his tooth on the surface. "Oro," he said, "Oro sólido? But how... No one has this much gold anymore, Six. Who did you rob?"

"That's the best part." The courier proudly held up another shining bar. "Nadie."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Whatever words Cass might have been bottling up to thrash the courier with, they dissolved as soon as she swept them into a crushing hug. "Goddammit, Six, I'm pleased as punch to see you alive," she said, laughing.

"Same to you," the courier replied, their cheeks flushing a bit. "Miss me?"

Cass pulled back again and punched them playfully on the arm. "Not on your life. I liked the quiet."

"You did not."

"I did!"

The two burst into giggles again and re-embraced. "Well, let's have it," Cass said once hers subsided a bit. "Did you get kidnapped by robots again, or was it that courier who's got your number?"

"Neither." The courier brushed themselves off and unshouldered the pack that had been weighing them down for days. "Well, I was kidnapped, but it was a former Brotherhood Elder with delusions of grandeur, this time."

Their pack fell to the floor with a mysterious thunk, which made Cass eye it suspiciously. "One of Veronica's kind? Anyone I'd know?"

"She'd know him, you wouldn't." The courier followed Cass' eye and squatted down to open their bag. "It can wait a bit. I brought you a souvenir."

The look on Cass' face when they withdrew a bar of solid gold was worth all the trouble it took to carry the bars home, the courier thought later.

Veronica Santangelo: "Where have you been?!?" Veronica demanded. Her inquiry was somewhat dampened by the courier's shoulder being squashed against her face. "I thought maybe you were dead, I thought maybe you were stuck in a vault somewhere, I thought the Legion had finally gotten its hands on you and I was going to have to form up a last-ditch rescue squad with the rest of your sorry band-"

"Maybe you should've," the courier replied, wincing a bit under her affections. "Could've used some support from someone who wasn't wearing an exploding prisoner collar."

"Exploding prisoner collar?" Veronica pulled back and held them at arm's length. "Have you been messing around with the Think Tank again? I told you those jar-brains are bad news, they'll rip out your spine without so much as a 'thank you,' who knows what they're-"

"Veronica." The courier put a finger to her mouth. "You know I don't do this often, but I need you to save your questions for the end. Can you promise me that?"

Veronica nodded, eyes wide. The courier ran a hand over their head and looked up at the Lucky 38's ceiling. "Ah, hell. I don't even know where to start. I met... you see, I was sort of... so that radio message I picked up a while ago, it led me to..."

"Spit it out," Veronica said eagerly. "The Sierra Madre? A raider trap? Some kook in the middle of nowhere with a grudge?"

"Kind of all three, actually," the courier grumbled. "Maybe I'm not the right person to tell you this. I left someone at the Atomic Wrangler that wanted to talk to you, let's just head over there. She's a little shy right now, given... recent history, but I don't know what explanation I'd be able to give you that she wouldn't do better."

ED-E: Amidst ED-E's deluge of excited and disappointed blats and whistles, the courier reached up to stop the little robot's movement and pulled it close. "I missed you too, ED-E," they said fondly, hugging the eyebot to their chest.

ED-E gave in and tutted a little more softly, waiting for the courier to release it. They smiled down at the bot when they pushed it skyward again, and ED-E did a little loop-de-loop in the air to display its own satisfaction with the reunion.

The courier giggled. "You were right, you know. I should've brought you along, it would've been a big help."

They sighed when ED-E gave them its usual questioning tone. "It's such a long story. The broadcast was a trap, I wound up imprisoned for a while with some... questionable characters, and I had to orchestrate an entire heist as well as walk all of them through their personal traumas before I could so much as think about escaping. Honestly, I just need to lie down for a while. For like, three days. And while I do that..."

They reached in their pocket and withdrew a worn letter, which they tucked inside ED-E's storage space. "I promised I'd deliver that to Veronica, but I'm just too tired. Mind giving it to her for me?"

Rex: The courier laughed and batted at the cyberdog's attentions, but Rex couldn't get enough of the new scents they were covered with. Desert, yes, but new desert, sand of a different composition. An acrid, acidic stench clung inside this strange desert's smell, as if laced into the very soil, and it made Rex's lip curl momentarily. There were new individuals on their clothing, too, and images sprang to the cyberdog's mind as he sniffed their coat. A tired, fear-laden woman. A man in pre-war cologne, not enough to mask his rotten skin. The addled adrenaline and dopamine of a nightkin. A man steeped in both of those scents as well, but not yet turned. Rex sniffed carefully. Not yet, or not ever, if the courier's weapons told the truth. And something else, a distinct hole in Rex's perception, but something that had made the courier sweat as they trudged home.

"Here, boy." The courier reached into their pack and withdrew a bar of solid gold. They held it out for the cyberdog to sniff, tilting it in the light of the casino's lobby. "It was real, the treasure of the Sierra Madre. I found it."

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Want Me

This is, a lot more than anything I've ever written, but I hope you like it.

Master List

~~

When Chan had told Stays he had a gift for them today, you had anticipated something like the valentines date. Maybe even Hyunjin’s surprise appearance. What you definitely weren’t expecting was your boyfriend to basically strip in front of literally the whole world.

“Oh. My god.” Your reaction was subconscious, and totally not something you wanted your roommate, Sungmi, to hear. Your eyes were the size of saucers as you stared at your phone.

“What’s up?” Her interest was piqued the second you made a sound, and being you, you did the one thing you could think of.

You threw your phone as far from yourself as possible.

The two of you watch it sail across the living room and land safely in the dirty clothes hamper neither of you had moved from the hallway to the washer.

“Uh, you good?”

“Wow, look at that laundry!” You exclaim, “Someone should go do it.” You can’t even jump up from the couch when her hand is wrapping around your ankle, pulling you onto the floor.

“Was it Chan’s performance?” Your face immediately goes crimson. “No,” You lie, poorly. “What performance? I didn’t even know he was performing. I should go do the laundry.” You’re talking like you’re the flash, and while she’s attempting to figure out what you said, you attempt to wrench your leg from her grip. Unfortunately her brain power is faster that you can get your arms under you, though you do manage to yank her off the couch with you.

“Get back here!” She huffs, yanking you closer to her and somehow managing to sit on your pelvis. “You saw the Wolfgang performance didn’t you?” She demands, but your answer is more struggling to knock her over. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/n.” She drops forward, pinning your arms by your head, and if she were literally anyone else, you would probably think this was super hot.

“Curse your shockingly strong legs.”

“Nine years of waterpolo.” She explains.

“Really? Damn, I should start playing.”

“You’re stalling.”

“No I’m not.” You lie, again. She rolls her eyes, dropping her head a little more to knock her forehead against yours. “Ow.”

“Be honest with me.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not.” She bonks your head again, “Stop lying.”

“Will you get off me?”

“When we’re done talking.”

“Then yes, I saw Chan’s Wolfgang performance.” She nods, letting go of your hands to sit up properly and crush your pelvis a little more.

“I thought it was pretty hot.” She confesses and you feel something bubble in your chest. You can’t help the slight twitch in your brows and of course she notices. “Ah! Jealousy!”

“I’m not jealous.” She taps your forehead, aggressively enough to hurt a little. “Ow.”

“You can’t lie to a Psychology major.”

“I’m not-” She raises her finger again and you relent. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not a huge fan of someone telling me they think my boyfriend is hot to my face.”

“Did you think it was hot?” Your face grows warm and you have to bite back an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not answering that.”

“You don’t have to. You’d be stupid to think otherwise.”

“Especially when he was in the white shirt.” You admit, and she nods.

“You should see if he’ll wear something like that next time you two decide to get all hot and heavy.” Your face flushes again, not really wanting to discuss your sexlife with someone you’ve only actually known for about seven months.

“Um yeah, totally.”

“Oh my god. You guys don’t do stuff!”

“We do stuff!” You defend, immediately regretting it.

“Oh really? Ever used handcuffs?” On him, or me?

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“So that's a no. How about, have you ever sent him a nude?” Oh, if only you knew.

“Get off me.”

“Another no.” She grins, “I’m shocked, he seems like such a feisty boy, you’d think he’d do stuff.” “Seriously, get off.” There’s no humor in your voice now. It wasn’t her place to tell you about your own boyfriend, and you were getting sick of her forcing her way into your love life.

“Oh come on Y/n.” She doesn’t get another word out before you grab her leg and wrench her sideways. Instead of just tossing her onto the floor, you find yourself slamming your hand into the floor by her head, now leaning over her.

“Stay out of my love life, do you hear me?” You practically growl, “I don’t need your help to please my boyfriend.” Her eyes go wide at your words, and you instantly become aware of your positions when a smirk paints itself on her face.

“My, my Y/n. I didn’t peg you as someone who’d be on top.”

“Clearly.” You reply. “Now are you quite done?”

“Have you ever topped him? He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t like that.”

“Once again, I don’t have to answer that.”

“You should try it. Something tells me you’ll like it.”

“Shut up.”

~~

“I hate you.” It had been hours since your rather sexually charged conversation with her, and here you were standing at her doorway seeking advice. You hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had said, but in all honesty, Chan was your first, so you had no clue what you were doing most of the time.

“Oh? Is that why you’re looking all lost and confused at my door?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she looks at you in the mirror. “What up?”

“I need advice.”

“Wear black, it looks good on everyone.” Her gaze shifts back to her reflection, where she’s curling her hair for a date.

“About Chan.” Her attention turns back to you in an instant and you’re tempted to run back to your room.

“In what sense?”

“What you said earlier.” A wicked grin spreads on her face. “Have a seat darling.” You trudge over to her bed, sitting on the trunk at the end to watch her. “First off, tell me this, who initiates sex usually?”

“He does.” You admit quietly. “Babe, if you want my help, you gotta be able to talk about sex without turning into a tomato. I mean, how are you sexually active and still blushing like a virgin. Next you're going to tell me you only do it missionary with the lights off.”

“Well…” Her mouth drops open in horror.

“Oh my god.” She gasps. “No wonder you’re all annoyed these days. You’re not satisfied.”

“Hey, he gets me off,” You defend, “And he’s very good at it.” You practically swoon just thinking about it. She raises her hands in surrender, but smiles at your answer.

“Have you ever asked him for oral?”

“How the hell do I bring that up in casual conversation? Just “Hey babe, you did wonderful today, do you want to eat me out’.”

“Well if it works.”

“No.”

“Okay, have you ever worn lingerie for him?”

“No, but I did buy something to wear a few months ago.” She nods, approving.

“How come you’ve never worn it?”

“Between Kingdom and the fact that he lives with seven other men, there hasn’t exactly been a time and place.”

“That’s fair. When do you guys usually do it? What’s it like? Just broad details.”

“He tells me he wants to spend the night. I usually get a hotel room, since my parents are still sending me money for rent, and we arrive at separate times. Its usually really sweet and slow.”

“And after?” She prompts.

“We shower, and cuddle. He usually leaves first cause he has practice or something.”

“Ever done it in the shower?” You shake your head, shoulders slumping as you realize how lame everything sounds.

“I really like him, but I think, especially since you said he seems like a kinky type, what if he’s not as into me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” She turns her chair towards you, setting a hand on your knee. “I think you’re both too nervous to broach the subject. I know this is your first real relationship, and it might be his too.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Start simple.” She turns back to her mirror, “You should book a room, and jazz it up a little. Rose petals, candles, maybe that set you bought. That way its obvious you want him.”

“That's not a bad idea.”

“Even better! I will go halfsies on one of the fancy hotels with you. I know one that has these huge bathtubs so you can take one together, and the shower has a stone floor, so its not slippery. Oh! We can get you a pretty silk robe, so you can do the dramatic reveal.”

“This sounds like a lot. How about for now, I just do the candles and the set?” She laughs, clearly embarrassed by the way she fiddles with her necklace.

“Sounds like a plan. You can do the big one for your anniversary.” You nod, agreeing with her.

“I can do it tonight, he’ll probably want some stress relief after that performance.” You offer her a sly smile, jumping up to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” She calls after you.

“I gotta go buy some candles.”

~~

Hey lover, come meet me. *Y/n shared her location*

You glanced over at the message again as you adjusted the black lace garterbelt. Sungmi had been right, black did look amazing on everyone. He had read the message, and if you were lucky, he was too busy driving over to text you back. You slid the black skirt up your legs, loving the way it stopped just under the edge of the thigh highs. The last piece was a simple t shirt, it was a little ripped and hung off one shoulder, just giving a slight peekaboo of the bra you had spent way too much money on. If Chan didn’t combust from seeing you in this, you were going to have a fun night.

Carefully you moved your things out of the main room, tucking them in the closet for safe keeping, and began lighting the candles. The sweet aroma of vanilla and lavender wafted through the room as you shut the lights off. You settled on the edge of the bed, taking a few risque selfies to show Sungmi and maybe send Chan later.

And then you waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Babe?

Three hours, that's how long you’d been waiting before you finally texted him again, having run out of excuses for the man.

“Sorry babe, I was working. Do you still want me to come to you?”

Not really, after this long, the wonder had worn off, and you just felt stupid and hurt. Of course he wasn’t going to come if you asked.

No. Its fine.

Actually, I want to talk to you. Are you still at the studio?

You set your phone down, turn the lights back on and begin blowing out candles. You don’t bother changing, just grab your sneakers and your bag before heading out, tucking your key and phone in your bra as you leave the building.

With some take out in hand you make your way to the JYP building, not at all surprised to see several lights still on.

“Woah, hel-lo Y/n.” You instantly smile at Jae’s greeting, which is followed by Brian’s whistle. “You look like a full course meal, girl.”

“Hey boys, what had you here so late, its past midnight?”

“Oh we were just-” Jae glances over at Brian who clears his throat.

“Just working. What about you?”

“Chan’s still working, so I brought some food.” You shrug, heading towards the elevators, “Have a good night.

“You too.” You have to bite your lip so you don’t laugh at Brian smacking Jae’s shoulder, earning a whine from the taller boy.

The lights from the studios are all off when you arrive, but you can see the glow of the computer shining from Chan’s. You knock as you open the door, making him jump and yank his headphones off when the light from the hall hits him. His face lights up in a smile when he sees you. Of course, he’s wearing super tight jeans and a black button up, neither of which were not helping you relax.

“Oh hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming.” He stands to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I texted you.” You tell him, which has him looking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear it when I’m working.” You smile reassuringly at him.

“That's okay, I know, that’s why I just came over.” You hold up the bag of take out, “I also brought food since you forget to eat when you start working.”

“You are the light of my life.” He sighs, kissing you properly this time as he takes the bag. Your heart flutters from his words, some of the butterflies in your stomach coming back from the dead. You sit across from him, stealing his work chair as he spreads the food out on the table and digs in. It takes him a few minutes to notice that you’re just staring, and he finally stops eating to say something, “You okay? How come you aren’t eating?”

“I already ate.” You lie, but he sees right through it, setting his chopsticks down to look at you properly. You watch his eyes rake across your body, finally seeing the lace stockings and the matching bra.

“That’s not it. You’re disappointed.” He realizes, “You looked the same way when you saw I.Ns grades.” He explains before you can even open your mouth to answer. “I know its not our anniversary, and your birthday already passed.”

“Its nothing babe. I just had a stupid idea for tonight.” The words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them. He looks at your outfit again and a cheeky smile begins to grow on his face.

“Were you-? But you never-” He lets out a deep breath, followed by a small giggle, which doesn’t make you feel better.

“I should head home.” You spring up, heading towards the door. “Enjoy your dinner.” He catches your arm before you get too far, pulling you back to wrap his arms around you.

“What did you have planned, baby girl?” Your heart flutters at the pet name, and the low tone his voice had taken on. “You wouldn’t have gotten all dressed up like this for nothing.” HIs free hand trails down your side, coming to the edge of your skirt, where his fingers find the skin just above the top of your stockings.

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure you want me as much as I want you.” You confess.

“Baby girl.” His voice is soft now, “Of course I want you.” His lips brush the skin of your neck as he speaks, sending shivers across your whole body.

“Then how come we never do anything interesting?”

“Like what?” Your confidence grows as you turn to face him, looping a finger through the choker he wears.

“Maybe I don’t want to do the same thing every time we fuck.” You can see from the way his eyebrows hike up that he’s startled by your words, hell, you were startled by them. “Maybe I want to see you.” Your other hand moves up to his face, trailing your thumb over his lips. “Maybe I don’t always want to be in a bed, in the dark, on my back. Maybe I want to be in charge.”

“I don’t think you could handle that baby girl.” He bites at your thumb as he finishes his sentence.

“Try me, Chris.” You challenge. His hands come up to your cheeks, pulling you in for a searing kiss. For a few seconds, your brain forgets what you had just challenged. He doesn’t help as he pulls away from your lips, his trailing across your cheek and down your neck.

“Sit.” You order, pulling away, trying to keep your breathing steady and not let on how affected you were.

“Excuse me?”

“Sit. Down.” You order again, shoving him lightly towards his computer chair. He backs up slowly, collapsing into it, eyes never leaving you.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you turn away from him.

“Proving a point.” You declare, the click of his lock emphasizing your words.

“Oh?” You turn back to him, finding him relaxed as ever, watching you with his legs spread wide. You saunter towards him, standing between his legs, hands on the arm rests. “You really think you can handle this baby?”

“If I impress you, you’ll save your work and we head over to the hotel.”

“And if you don’t?”

“You save your work and we head over to the hotel anyway.”

“Bet.”

“You might regret that, baby.” You push on the chair, sending it back until it connects with his desk.

“Oh really?” He asks, as you push his knees together slightly so you can straddle his lap. Your fingers trail from his shoulders down to the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one at a time.

“You talk too much.” You tell him, leaning forward to press kisses along his neck. Just as you hit his pulse point, he hisses, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “Ah ah ah.” You chastise, pulling away from his neck. “No touching.” You pull his hands away, dropping them on the arm rests instead. “Hands to yourself.”

“Oh you are in for it when we get to the hotel.” He groans as you nip at his skin.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

[arcadejohn127-9]

ok so,,, *slides u mc idea* (YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!!! I JUST WANTED TO SHARE THIS!!!)

MC that doesn't have any energy during the day, just moping around all tired. But from like, 12 AM to 6 AM, really energized and would go out and do the most Chaotic Shit TM. You know when you just come up with some crack idea at 2 AM? MC every goddamn night. Probably tried making a bathtub fly.

(if you do want to do this, please do the brothers and the undateables ^^)

XD WHY IS THIS ME???!!!!! I'm always so tired and never leave my bed but it could be 1 am and suddenly I rise from the dead and just do random things around the house

Though these aren't chaotic, mostly just the boys trying to stop you as they're tired and want to sleep but you're messing around too much. I tried to base it off my own activities and things that would seem funny - sorry if you wanted something more chaotic but I couldn't think of anything

Lucifer:

When he learned about your strange late morning/early morning shenanigans

He saw it was a way for you to finally get your school work done

Every room - and I mean EVERY - had a textbook from your different class with notes, he goes to bed late so he put them their before he tucked in for the night

He could hear your distress at the continuous reminder of work you needed to do

You knew this was his work so you went to his room

Climbing on his bed and just walked over his body

"Stop it, I'm trying to learn how to replicate the set ups from home alone."

"You can do that after doing your coursework, I'm being merciful with you, don't push it."

You just threw yourself down beside him

Pretending to suddenly fall asleep and began to loudly fake snore

You remained like that whilst Lucifer tried to ignore you

He took this as a sign of war

He was going to monitor you all day if he has to, he refuses to let your bad grades affect their image

But you got bored of snoring and left

He felt relief; his desire to sleep over weighing his desire to force you to study

When you came back with a toy gun you altered to shoot golf balls he knew thing's weren't going well

"The-more-you-pressure-me-the-more-I-won't-study."

You shot at his lower body between each words

This was definitely war

Mammon:

He was sleeping just fine until he heard his car rev up

He bolted awake and saw that his car was on, a string of curses coming from inside

He knew of your weird habit of becoming energised at ridiculous times but he wasn't expecting you to do this

He could tell it was you by your voice

He stormed up the stairs towards his car

"Oi! What are you doing in my car? Go to bed!"

You finally were able to turn off the car, just leaning on the wheel casually as if you didn't just accidentally turn it on

"I'm just cruising~ nothing to see here!"

He wasn't amused

He got you out of his car and strung you over his shoulder, scolding you for being so irresponsible and slightly bragging about how much trouble you'd be in if it weren't for him

You tried to explain you were just pretending to drive but you saw the keys still inside and got curious

He just threw you on his bed and held you, hiding his blush in his pillow

You let him fall asleep but when you tried to escape it ended up with your shoulders in a head lock and your ass stuck in the air

It seems your productive night has came to an end

Levithan:

It was a fifty - fifty chance that levithan was awake or not

But Lucifer gave him an earful about staying up late as it's effecting grades

So you betted he was asleep and your desire to game and wonder aroulnd his room set itself in motion

What made it awkward, was when you came in you heard a suspicious girly moan come from his headphones

You both just stared at each other, unmoving

"Uh- this isn't- this is just a dream, this is definitely not happening."

You checked out the game he was playing; recognizing it to be a dating sim he's been following the development of

You just nodded, shuffling over to his set up

"Scoot over dream levi, I wanna see the hot babes."

He got even more embarassed; face completely red as you sat on your player 2 chair

You put your hand on his, forcing his finger to click the mouse and watched what was happening on screen, listening to the loud music from his headphones

Luckily, the voice acting was just suspicious - like most animes - and it was a fairly cute game

You did end up swirling around in your chair aroulnd his room

Both of you coming up with strategies to get the best girl to like you

Though, too much moving and spinning made you and the chair fall over

You bonked Into his bathtub, your ribs squishing against the rim after the trip

Levi let you make all the gaming decisions to make up for it

Satan:

He planned to have some late night reading, hoping it'll make him tired enough to actually sleep

He found you sitting on the floor in the library

Torn books and littered paper was surrounding you

Then he noticed the paper stars and cranes pouring out from your lap as you froze mid fold

"That's....a thousand stars and cranes - where did you get all this paper from?"

"......the books belonged to me before you assume anything!"

He slowly nodded

He wasn't a fan of the destruction of books but they were yours so he couldn't say anything

He felt odd just leaving you in the barely lit library

Just folding paper who knows how long

He asked if you were hungry, guessing you've been awake for a long time

You just shoved paper into your mouth and began chewing

He was horrified

You immediately spat it out, cringing

"that was a bad idea.... that was gross."

He's going to get you food

When he came back he felt more energised; walking around will do that for you

So he decided to just stay with you whilst you folded the many pages of your destroyed books

It was around 6 am when you finally yawned; Satan fell asleep already

You looked at the fire place, your tired brain screaming for arson

He woke up as he heard your fits of poorly muffled giggles

You were throwing your stars in the fire as you sat a fair distance from it

When you threw the cranes, accepting some didn't fly far enough and didn't burn, he asked what you were doing

"It's survival of the fittest, only the strongest cranes survive in this paper world."

Asmodeus:

You were already in his room, you've been sleeping in it almost all day

So when you finally got out you looked around, spotting the makeup kit he got in a sponsorship

He lets his brother's or you use it as it's a spare

But if you touch his stuff; you will perish

So you decided to use that one, practising all sorts of looks and tried not to laugh when you made yourself a clown

You decided to stay in the clown makeup and go into his practice room

What was his practice room?

Well, he hates exercising Infront of people as he'll be sweaty and his hair will get ruined

So that's where he goes but the real magic was the pole in the middle of it

You felt a spark of inspiration

Looking up tutorials on your phone on how to pole dance

It did not go great

You were sliding too fast

Falling over and when you tried to spin, you would just get stuck

"I love you but if you keep disturbing my beauty sleep I will throw you out the window."

He was grouchy; his hair was barely smoothed out and arms crossed

You hugged the pole you were slowly sliding down; a long loud screech coming down

You definitely felt like a clown

"Sorry- you look handsome already so is there really any need for beauty sleep?"

He blushed, agreeing he was beautiful before giving you a "I will end you" smile

You got the hint, flattery wasn't going to work

Perhaps your pole dancing adventures can wait

Beezlebub:

He was aware of your strange energy burst at night, you were talking about it with him the other day

He's been wondering if he would ever spot you and tonight he did

He found you in the kitchen

Just chipping away at the frost on the top of the freezer trays with a small knife

He crouched down behind you, picking you up

Beel let you sit on his thigh and began to eat anything he could get his hands on

Meanwhile you were aggressively stabbing the formed ice

"Why are you doing that?"

He grabbed a handful of the ice chunks that fell from your stabbing

"Not sure what I want to do tonight and the build up was bothering me."

He didn't need to know anymore, just nodding and letting you do your own thing whilst he ate

He cleared out the entire fridge in no time

Letting you eat anything you wanted whilst you were hard at work

He noticed one part of the ice wasn't giving it to your stabbings

He just gripped it and easily broke it off

You thanked him and ignored how he was able to eat the big block with breaking it

Whenever something was too stubborn he would just break it off for you

It went on like that until you were satisfied

You closed the empty freezer and turned to your assistant

"Good work, but I'll need your help again, I can't reach the top cupboard and I know it's big enough to let me sit in it."

He got to eat more so he had no issue, helping you get into the cupboard once he was done clearing it out

Belphegor:

You were so energised yet you couldn't think of what to do

You put a spell on you to stop you from feeling pain and began to let yourself roly-poly down the hallways

You penciled rolled abit too fast at one pointand ended up thumping down the stairs

You were thankful the spell worked

It got to the point you just kept rolling around until you couldn't anymore

You padded the broom closet

Immediately doing a double take when you noticed a body In the darkness

You went over and turned on the closets light

"is there a reason you're sleeping in the broom closet?"

Belphie was grumbling, trying to hide his face from the light

He glared up at you for disturbing his sleep

"Is there a reason you're rolling around the house?"

"Touchè."

You ended up dragging belphie around the house

You felt like you committed a crime and it was fun

He was fast asleep and you were bored

You dragged him by the ankle and tried to keep his body from banging into anything along the way

You ended up bumping into Beel, he was looking for his twin, and he noticed you were dragging him

Belphie slightly woke up, waving at his brother before going back to sleep

Beel carried the two of you back to the his bedroom; hugging you both

If it weren't for these warm beefy arms you would be free! Free to terrorise all the shadows in the room

You gave up your night activities when even Belphie wrapped an arm around you

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Dia was sneaking around the house, hoping not to run into his butler

He didn't want be to be sent back to bed

He was planning to have a light night snack and see how you were going

He knew you were always doing something during the nights, it surprised him when he found out because you were always in bed whenever he saw you

He checked your bedroom and didn't see you in your bed

Suddenly, he noticed a pile of black by his feet

He saw you, scrunched up on your back with the little D's covering your body, all hugging you

"oh! I almost didn't spot you under there, are you alright?"

"I'm great~ you should join me."

The little D's You were able to scratch were purring in their sleep

He found the sight adorable as he crouched down

"I'm teaching them to love me so they can willingly become armour for when I take over the Devildom - we'll be like the rat king!"

He just quietly laughed; the prince helping you pet and scratch the little D's

He agreed you'd make a good ruler

Though he had to force himself to be silent as you started chanting whispers of 'You will be my armor' and 'rat king'

Decided to leave you and your brain washing, going to the kitchen like he intended

Though when he walked past your room again you and the little Ds weren't there

He found you in his room, pouting and dangling off the chandelier

He helped you down, asking what was wrong

You told him the little D's banished you from the cuddle pile because you kept trying to make them move as one being

He patted your head and told you you'll become the overlord some day

Barbatos:

"Why are you making pudding at 3 am?"

He already knew why, just like he knew you were here hence why he visited you

But that didn't stop him from asking

He knew you liked it when he showed his intrigue in things even if he already knew about them

"my hands demand to CREATE- oops sorry - hopefully that didn't wake anyone."

He was always surprised to see you up and about during the nights

He was always the one looking after you in the morningsa; making sure you ate and had a drink

Whilst you just laid in bed, always barely awake and unmotivated

He stayed with you, watching over you as you made your pudding

Making soft spoken discussion as he guided you through any steps you seemed to become hesitant in

You ended up making 10 batches of pudding

Barbatos eating a few whilst he watched you

When you grew bored of pudding making you ate the cups he didn't eat

Saving a few for lord Diavolo in the fridge

He complimented your pudding, telling you that they were very delicious

You felt proud; having a spark to make more food

He told you what would be best during this time of night and helped you

Though it did end up with the both of you covered in flour and barb slipping on a dropped egg

You both thought it was best to clean up and stop for the night

He was very embarassed he made a fool of himself

Solomon:

He didn't expect to find you in his working space

He knew you would be awake but didn't even think of you doing what you're doing right now

"is there a reason you're drinking my potions like their shots? I must say this is rather interesting - how many did you have?"

You wiped your mouth, your hiccup coming out as exploding bubbles

You looked at the small glass viles, and saw ALOT of them empty

More than you realized

"uh- 3?"

he just chuckled, reading the notes you made

The notes was recording what each potion did to you

He was thankful you remembered this was his safe batch

Unknown to him you in fact did NOT remember and was having a Russian roulette game with them

He sat with you, making a cure for your explosive hiccups

You happily drunk it and felt better

He laughed more when he saw your scribbles; drawing what happened to you

Solomon will be making you his potion tester from now one so beware

Simeon:

He was an early riser; awake by 3 am and usually did some writing or watched TV until he got tired again

He had a mug of tea, shuffling through the dorm

He's hung out with you plenty of times whilst you cure your late night boredom

But he was surprised when he saw you in the living room, mini flashlight in your mouth and scrubbing the floors with a sponge mop

"Oh, you don't need to clean - that's very sweet of you but don't you think it's abit early to do this?"

You looked at him, semi blinding him with the flashlight

Immediately took it out of your mouth and apologized

You agreed it was but you wanted to do it as you've been meaning to for the past week

He just nodded, letting you do your own thing whilst he enjoyed his drink

But you suddenly felt awkward; no longer wanting to clean now that someone was in the room

You made your way over to him, climbing on the coffee table and jumping onto the sofa

He was curious on why you weren't doing your thing anymore

"dunno know, just feels awkward when people watch me do stuff."

He suggested leaving you be, saying he'll stay in his room

But now you felt bad because he wanted to rest in the living room

In the end, he helped you clean and you both fell asleep in the bathtub, cuddling up with towels working as padding and a blanket

Luke:

You liked creeping Luke out

It was fun, so far you've convinced them that you're a type of demon that watches bad children whilst they sleep

But really you just wanted to feel like a cryptic, sitting in the corner of his room on a cupboard

It wasn't long for him to wake up from your staring

"I'm going to tell Simeon if you keep staring at me."

You wanted to laugh; he really was a child

Luke wasn't aware that you were a night owl, he just assumed you were always tired and sleeping

He liked to help you around the house and look after you when he could

It almost made you feel had

Almost

He's been extra stubborn about liking the Devildom to the point he's Been insulting his friends and trying to push them away

"Luke, you've been very bad, pushing your friends away just because they're a demon isn't good - embrace your friendships."

You weren't amazing at changing your voice but it seemed to work on him

He complained that it wasn't right for angels and demons to be friends

But you quickly reminded him what this whole exchange program was about

"you have been chosen to help fix the divide between the three realms, just hang out with the people you care about or I'll eat your toes!"

He immediately got scared, scrunching into himself and only peered slightly out of his blanket

He made you promise to leave him alone if he made up with the demons

You agreed, feeling bad for disturbing his sleep but thankful your plan worked

[jjkyaoi]

i’m once again, handling you these cutely. (note; this turned into just bedrock bro’s hc’s but ykw i think that’s pretty valid)

• surprisingly, he’s always been good at doing hair / styling hair? he’s been good at braids, ponytails, buns; he’s always been good at it because he used to practice it in techno’s hair. it was something that used to just be a habit that he did when he was bored, but back in pogtopia he used to mess around w/ techno’s hair more for comfort than anything else. he always use to put little braids in techno’s hair, and when he wasn’t messing around with it he’d always lecture techno about how Awful he was at taking care of it, because he was. he’d always give him tips on how to take care of it better, and even though techno didn’t know what it meant he’d always listen; eventually he’d start to seek out tommy himself just to mess around w/ his hair—it was soothing for both of them.

TOMMY: don’t you know how to take care of your fuckin’ hair? it’s all knotted and gross!

TECHNO, whos spent most of his life being a potato farmer; :)

• in addition to this, he’s surprisingly good at things like hygiene & he gives good advice on things like fashion (note; i know cc!tommy wears like the same shirt every day but shh let me have this), so back in the earlier days of l’manberg he’d always hang out w/ niki and they’d always speak about things like hair and clothes and stuff, and she’d sometimes even let niki do his hair, even if it was too short to really do anything special. it was their little sessions where they’d gossip about everyone else in l’manberg, & they wouldn’t ever let anyone else in there. wilbur constantly tried to follow them but he’d always have to be forcably pushed out.

NIKI; did you hear what fundy did yesterday?

TOMMY, doing her nails, nodding; yeah. he’s such a dumbass

NIKI; he just doesn’t understand

TOMMY; mhm 🙄

• when he was younger he always used to have a shit ton of stuffed animals. he’ll deny this for hours & hours on end, but his bed used to make up of stuffed animals. he’d name every single one of them, he’d use to make little clothes for them to wear, he’d always carry them around and whenever he was separated from them he’d always cry and throw a fit. his favorite stuffed animal was a plush cow named henry, and he was shit at taking care of it; henry went through hell and back, and in the end he ended up losing it. he hid in his room for weeks and refused to come out of pure grief.

• also when he was younger, he always used to put on plays for wilbur, techno, and phil. he’d always craft his own little tools, like a fake sword, a fake cape, a fake shield, and he’d put on a little show with his stuffed animals as his characters. he’d used to have notes written in crayon about the plot and the characters backstories that was practically unintelligible, and he’d always be the hero saving the day. he’d sometimes even pull techno into it, and he’d make him be the villain with a cartoon mask held by string that barley fit his face.

TECHNO, walking out into the living room: i don’t want to be here.

TOMMY, holding his sword triumphantly; you fiend! i’ve cornered you! there’s nowhere to run!

PHIL; you’ve been concerned techno. you better back down

TECHNO; he’s a 6 year old, phil. whats he gonna do—

TOMMY, immediately wacking him directly in the stomach with his sword;

• when tommy started living with techno, the first gift he ever gave him was the fake red cape tommy used to play pretend in. it wasn’t big enough for him, and it was ripped and covered in scribbles of crayon, but tommy was too touched by the fact that he even kept it to care about the quality.

TOMMY: you—you kept my cape?

TECHNO: yeah. it’s—it’s the first thing that inspired my cape,,..

TOMMY, on the verge of tears; my stupid stories are the reason behind your cape? that’s so—

TECHNO, immediately wacking him on the head with the fake sword: shut up.

• techno didn’t ever tell anyone, but the reason he’d made his cape almost identical to the one tommy had was because he wanted to be the hero that tommy created that he loved so much.

• tommy’s always been frustrated whenever he couldn’t get something right on the first try; he’s always been sort of,,.. hard on himself? and whenever he messes up he always ends up getting angry and refusing to do any more work. it’s something that’s in his mind that tells him he won’t ever succeed, so he just doesn’t want to try. the only person who’s ever been able to get him to continue trying his techno. anyone else, when they’d try to rally his spirits it would just end up in an argument, but techno’s the only person who’s been able to successfully get through to him.

TOMMY; this—this is stupid. i don’t even want to try anymore, it’s—i can’t do anything-

TECHNO; you know that’s not true, tommy.

TOMMY; it’s not?! i fucking failed, techno, what else am i supposed to do—

TECHNO: try again.

TOMMY: but-

TECHNO: i’ll help you. just try again. you won’t ever succeed if you don’t try.

TOMMY, grumbling: like you’re all wise...

TECHNO: i am :]

• tommy and techno’s favorite thing to do together is train. when tommy was younger techno didn’t go as hard; he’d always use to let his little brother win in fear of actually hurt him, and he couldn’t always erase the satisfied feeling he got when tommy beamed whenever he’d “won”. even if he’d purposely tripped over his feet.

TOMMY, standing over techno’s body, sword in hand: i beat you!!! :DDD

TECHNO, gently picking him up and putting him on his chest: you beat me. whatever will i do. you’re just too strong.

TOMMY, bonking him on the head with the sword; that’s right >:D

• though, when tommy started living with techno again he didn’t let himself go as easy on him. he’d seen the way that tommy wanted to be stronger— didn’t want to be as easy to control, so he’d figured that training him would be the right way to go. he’d frequently knock tommy on his ass and he’d have to hold back his laughter when tommy got up with a scowl cause he just couldn’t win.

TOMMY: what the fuck! this isn’t fair! i always used to beat you when i was younger??

TECHNO, knowing full well that wasn’t the truth: you’ve gotten worse :)

[thesightstoshowyou]

Thomas Hewitt x F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Hoyt issues an ultimatum and Thomas is the perfect gentleman.

Warnings: Dubcon, “fuck or die,” blood, gore, swearing, fingering, creampie, manipulative reader

 ~~~

             The surface beneath you is cold and hard, like steel left to sit in a dark room. This is the first thing you notice when you wake. Next comes stronger sensation: Pounding headache, sweat sliding down your face, your chest, aching muscles, burning knees. Then comes sound. You hear talking, but it sounds as though your ears are stuffed with cotton or the speaker is three rooms over.

             Your fingers twitch. You can move them, at least. That’s a start.

             “And I can see why! Look at those legs!”

             The volume turns on all at once and you flinch. It’s a man speaking. He’s close, and loud. A heavy thwack follows his words.

             “I woulda kept a pretty thing like that too. Can’t blame ya for that, Tommy.” The man’s tone is condescending. He sounds as if he is speaking to a child. You don’t even know who he is but you already dislike him.

             Your forehead head feels wet and sticky. Sweat? No, its thicker than that.

             “Tell you what, Tommy. I’m feelin’ generous today, what with this bountiful harvest. I’ll let ya’ have a go at her, huh?”

             You swallow thickly. Is he talking about…you? Sloshing water, another noisy thwack. Blood pumps furiously in your ears.

             “You ever did that to a girl, Tommy? Huh?” Laughter. Thwack, THWACK.

             You’re beginning to feel pity for this ‘Tommy.’ It takes monumental effort to crack your eyes open. For a second, you panic. Your vision is halved. You can’t see out of your left eye. Then, you wipe your face across the back of your hand, clearing your eye of the blood caked into your eyelashes. That explains the sticky feeling. What happened?

             “Oh, look-y there! Here’s yer chance!”

             Your head feeling as though it weighs a thousand pounds, you lift it and glance around. The room spins. You snap your eyes closed once more, waiting for everything to right itself. When you open them again, it takes a moment for everything to come into focus.

             You’re in a poorly lit room, like a cellar. The dirt floor is flooded, a few inches of murky water covering most of the floor. Seated on a rickety wooden table directly in front of you is an ancient sewing machine. Along the cracked and chipped walls are dusty shelves filled with dingy bottles. The whole room smells musty, air thick with humidity and something rancid, like old meat. Glancing down, you find yourself on a rusty metal table stained with—

              Movement pulls your attention to a man standing near your feet, hands on his hips. He is dressed like a sheriff and he’s leering at you. Something is tugging at the back of your mind, a memory, something urgent. It’s about the sheriff, but try as you might, you can’t bring it to the surface.

             “What’dya think of that, girlie? Wanna give ol’ Tommy a try?” You flinch away when the sheriff squeezes your calf. There’s red splattered across the front of his uniform. You hope it’s paint but instinct tells you its not.

             “Where am I?” Your words are slurred, your dry tongue thick in your mouth.

             “Bonked yer noggin real good, didn’t I?” The sheriff says with a harsh laugh. You focus on his face, on his dark eyes and his cruel lips pulled back in a sneer over yellowed teeth.

              Another noisy thwack makes you crane your neck to look behind you. Instantly, you wish you hadn’t. There’s another man there, his back to you. Tommy. His shoulder length hair is dark and his shirt, wet with sweat, clings to his broad shoulders. He’s huge, menacing even when he’s not looking at you. He’s hacking away at a mangled body, suspended in the air by chains and missing several limbs.

              Chainsaw. Screaming. Shredded flesh. SMACK goes the shotgun butt to your head.

               Memory returns like a punch in the gut and you suck in air through your teeth. You recoil, clawing at the edge of the table to pull yourself away from the monster behind you. These murderers, these animals killed…oh god, your friends…oh god, Annie….

                The scream is out of your throat before you register it’s coming. You shriek and cry, scrambling across the table toward the stairs behind you, but you’ve forgotten about the sheriff. One of his hands finds your hair, the other gripping your jaw roughly to hold you in place.

                 You writhe in his grip, but freeze when Tommy finally turns around. He wears a leather mask over the bottom half of his face. His eyes are hidden under his brow, too hard to see in the poorly lit room. You whimper, sweaty hair sticking to your tear streaked cheeks, heart hammering against your ribs.

               “Honeymoon’s over, huh?” Another mean laugh and the sheriff wiggles your head playfully back and forth, “Who’ll it be, Tommy? You or me?”

                You sob, the real reason you were kept alive now out in the open. Panic rises and you grasp his wrists, attempting to wrench yourself free. The sheriff grunts, squeezing your jaw painfully in retaliation.

               “Ya’ like that, honey? Wanna give Sheriff Hoyt a taste?” His breath reeks of stale chewing tobacco when he breaths out across your face.

             The loud clang from across the room startles you both. Tommy has set his cleaver down hard on a nearby table. He’s facing away from you again, his shoulders rising and falling in heavy breaths.

             “Weh-hell, Thomas Brown Hewitt! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say yer jealous!”

             You blink. Panic subsides, replaced by rational thought. The gears in your head whirl at top speed. Maybe this isn’t the end for you, not just yet. A plan drops into place.

             If Hoyt—if that’s really his name—gets his way, he will fuck you, kill you, and that will be that. But Thomas…. You bet that mask he’s wearing is hiding something, maybe a deformity, maybe something else. You’ll also guess not many people have been kind to him throughout his life. People are cruel and if you don’t look normal, most are quick to point it out. Perhaps, if you can win Thomas over, you’ll have a chance at survival. Who would dare challenge a chainsaw-wielding behemoth?

             It’s a gamble, sure, but it’s a gamble you must make.

             “Alright boy, alright.” Hoyt relents, releasing your head and standing up straight. “I’ll give ya’ twenty minutes. If she’s still dressed by the time I get back, I’m putting my foot down.” He laughs, long and loud as he turns and stomps up the stairs. You’re glad to see him go, but now you’re alone with Thomas.

             He still isn’t looking at you. He hasn’t spoken a word this entire time either. Maybe he can’t. You might just have to do the talking for him.

             You close your eyes and inhale slowly, steeling yourself. You push down the revulsion and fear and grief, shoving them deep in your heart to be revisited later. You must be calm. This is your only option.

             “Um, Tommy?” You try, keeping your voice as level as you can. You swallow to lend moisture to your dry throat. “Is…is it okay if I call you Tommy?” Thomas half turns, glancing at you over his shoulder and giving a curt nod. You scoot to the edge of the table and let your legs dangle over the side, hiking your dress up as discreetly as you can.

             “Um. The…the sheriff…Hoyt…. He didn’t really give us much time. Um, if it’s…I mean, I know I’m not—not in charge here, but…if it was up to me, I would…I, um, would want it to be y-you.” You glance up at him under your eyelashes, dipping your shoulder so the strap of your dress slips down your arm.

             Thomas turns further toward you, staring. You wish you could see his eyes through the gloom or know what he’s thinking. Did you guess wrong? Is he going to pick up that cleaver and bury it in your skull for your trouble? Desperately, you will your racing heart to be calm.

             Finally, he looks away. Reaching behind him, he unties his gore-soaked apron, lifting it over his head and draping it on a shelf. He begins to move toward you but pauses, turning quickly and plunging his hands into a bucket of water near the corpse dangling from the ceiling like a macabre marionette. Hastily, he scrubs his palms and fingernails. Seemingly satisfied, he wipes them on a dirty rag before turning back to you.

             Cautiously he approaches, like you’ll spook and run if he moves too quickly. He might be right. When he’s close enough for you to reach out and touch him, he stops, hands moving to his pockets, then behind him, then in front of him again. He’s nervous. He’s never done this before, you realize. That thought is almost a relief. Almost.

             You meet his gaze. His eyes are dark blue, deep and expressive. You can see his hesitance in his eyes and his body language, in the way he’s almost half turned away, as though he might run instead.

             You bite your lip and reach for his hand. Your trembling fingers close around his and you pull him closer. He lets you tow him, helplessly, until he’s standing between your legs. This close, you can smell him; sweat, coppery like blood, and something pine scented, like cleaner or cheap soap.

You place his palm on your bare knee. Christ, his hands are enormous, palms and fingertips calloused and rough against your sweaty skin. You’re sure he could crush your knee like a soda can with just one firm grasp.

             He doesn’t move, simply staring at the hand on your leg like he can’t believe this is happening. A twinge of annoyance burns under the fear. You don’t have time for this. Hoyt could come back at any minute.

             You reach under your dress, hooking your fingers in your panties before dragging them down your legs. Thomas jerks his hand away like your skin has burned him, awkwardly clasping and unclasping his fingers as you set the garment on the table next to you. Again, you reach for his hand, pulling him back, scooting closer to him until you can feel the heat from his body between your spread legs.

             This time, you guide his palm up the expanse of your thigh, under your dress. He sucks in a breath when you press his fingers to your cunt. You meet his gaze again and find him searching your face. He’s looking for something, maybe fear, or disgust, something….

             “It’s—it’s okay, Tommy,” you whisper, voice quivering, “Touch me, please.”

             He does, slowly, gingerly. His thick fingers explore the skin at the apex of your thighs, then trace between your lips, learning you. You’re sure it’s unintentional when he teases your opening before moving higher. You can’t stop the shaky gasp that slips from your trembling lips when he brushes against your clit.

             Thomas, ever observant, does it again, then applies more pressure, circling the calloused pad of his thumb around the sensitive bud. Your eyelids flutter and, unbidden, your hips buck into his hand. All the while Thomas stares, hardly blinking, watching for your reactions.

             Heat curls through your gut, surprising you, at Tommy’s ministrations. He keeps a steady, maddening pace that soon has slick leaking from your neglected cunt. Half-whimpers climb up out of your throat, barely contained behind your teeth.

             Thomas eases up and you’re almost disappointed, but then his fingers slip down your slit to find your soaked entrance once more. Testing, searching, he pushes a finger past your folds, slipping into you. Another gasp tumbles from your mouth. Just his finger, thick as it is, is almost enough.

             You grasp his forearm, urging him to move his hand. He catches on quickly and soon he’s pumping his finger in and out of you. Pleasure blooms through your core and you grind your hips down into his hand.

             “Tommy, can—can you use another finger, please, I need—

             You choke on a moan when he wastes no time in obliging, slipping another finger in next to the first. This is ridiculous, you think deliriously. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this wet before. You can feel it dripping down your thighs to pool under your ass and into Tommy’s palm.

             The coil of lust within you tightens and you realize with shock that you’re going to cum. This huge, deranged murderer is going to make you cum on his fingers. And you’re not going to help him.

             You rock your hips once, twice and then stars explode behind your eyes, knees clamping shut around his arm. Thomas groans above you, his other hand wrapping around the back of your neck, keeping you seated on his fingers when you try to pull away.

             Are you sure he hasn’t done this before?

             You pant and shudder, finally peeling your eyes open to meet Thomas’ heated gaze. His own chest heaves, the hand on your neck shaking. You swallow, intimidated by him all over again. You think he might bore a hole through your head with his gaze alone. Does he look at all his victims like this?

             You shake your head, ridding yourself of your tumultuous thoughts. You have no idea how much time you have left. Hurry, you must hurry.

             Thomas must be thinking the same thing because he gently pulls his fingers from your heat. They drip, little droplets splashing into the water covering his boots. He releases your neck to adjust himself and your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge in his pants.

             It’s your turn to watch his face as you reach out and unbuckle his belt. Slowly, you pop the button, slide the zipper. He releases a shaky exhale when you run your thumb along the long length of the overheated cock hiding behind his briefs.

             “Oh fuck,” you whisper when you free him from his underwear. Of course, his cock is huge just like the rest of him; girthy, long, one massive vein running along the underside. You’re unsure if you can handle him.

             Thomas frowns at your words, but you’re quick to reassure him, “I’m sorry, I’m just…you’re, uh, really big so I was just, um….” Your words trail off into nervous laughter, “Will you go slow?” you plead, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

             Thomas nods earnestly, reaching out as if he is going to cup your face. He pauses, fingers inches from your cheek, and the hand withdraws, settling nervously next to your hip. You take another deep breath. No time, no time.

             You scoot forward, spreading your thighs wide to accommodate his hips. You grip him, hard and hot under your palm, and guide him to your slick entrance. Thomas tenses when you hook your leg around his hip, using it to ease him toward you.

             Sweat beads along your forehead as he inches forward, taking the lead once you release him and lean back on your palms to brace yourself. Thomas grips your hips with shaking hands, pulling you forward, stuffing you full with his cock.

             The uncomfortable stretch is there, certainly, quivering muscles straining around Tommy’s generous girth, but your slickness eases the passage and you feel warm pleasure winning out over pain. Before long, he’s fully seated within you, his haggard breaths washing over your sweaty forehead.

             Thomas moves and you gasp, one hand flying to grip the front of his shirt. The drag of his cock along your overstuffed walls is unreal. You sigh, biting your lip in a futile attempt to keep the embarrassing sounds safely in your mouth.

             A strained groan leaves Tommy and he jerks his hips forward, wrenching a surprised mewl from your own mouth. That noise, or the way you clench around him must destroy his resolve. The grip on your hips turns bruising and Thomas begins pounding into you with enthusiasm.

             All you can do is clap a hand over your mouth, your other hand white knuckled and braced against the table. Each harsh thrust sends a jolt of pleasure up through your gut, causing you to lose control of your words.

             “Please, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you chant, not even sure what you’re begging for, your mind hazy with desire. You can barely hear yourself over the noisy slap of skin against skin, the wet squelch of your battered cunt, and the creaking of the rusty table under you.

             Thomas trembles, his thighs tensing under yours. He grunts and you can tell from the sound that he’s gritting his teeth. He’s trying not to cum. How he’s lasted this long is beyond you, but he isn’t going to have to wait much longer.

             That tight coil has returned, burning hot pleasure zinging up your back and racing across your skin. Thomas moves one hand up your hip to dig his fingers into your waist. He’s so strong, so ruthless in the way he pulls you onto his cock. He could break your spine with little effort.

             The coil snaps and you cry out, your body tensing and arching. You grip Thomas’ shoulders for dear life, pleasure pulsing through you in powerful waves as tears spill down your cheeks. At the same moment, Thomas buries his cock as deep as he can, groaning and rutting against you as he fills you up. It sits warm in your belly before trickling down your ass to make an even bigger mess of the table beneath you.

             You pant together as though you’ve both just finished a marathon. You glance up to find Thomas studying you again, searching your eyes and face. This time, he does cup your cheek, rough thumb stroking your flushed skin. The action is so unexpectedly tender your breath hitches. The way he’s looking at you—

             The door at the top of the stairs bangs open and you nearly leap out of your skin. Thomas jerks away from you to quickly button up his slacks. You reach for your underwear but don’t have a chance to put them on before Thomas scoops you into his arms, cradling you protectively against his broad chest.

             “Well, well, well, what have you lovebirds been up to?”

             You don’t hear Hoyt’s antagonizing question. You don’t hear anything but the blood pumping in your ears and your own ragged breathing. The way Thomas is holding you, gripping your flesh like his life depends on it, your cunt dripping with his cum, you know.

             You know he’s never going to let you go.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Love is a Bundle of Contradictions.

This artwork was a piece I commissioned from @shimmeryspark​!

... There is no explanation for this other than my friends encouraged me to write Valentine’s Day Raven and Jade fluff, since the main saga is a bit lot of angst right now. (Special thanks to @twstpasta since they let me borrow their twstsona for plot reasons :9)

Imagine this...

“You WHAT?!”

“Ehehe~ Sorry...!! I guess I went and made a bad decision, heehoo~” Mac stuck out their tongue and lightly bonked their own head with a fist. “Silly me~”

“Making a deal with Azul is the very definition of a bad decision,” Raven groaned, slapping a hand to her face. “I... I cannot believe you. Dare I ask what the conditions were?”

“I gave him my taste buds! He said he’ll give them back if you help out with stocking up on supplies for the Mostro Lounge.”

“That’s... suspiciously simple. And you really just handed over your taste buds just like that? You can’t taste your beloved cheese anymore.”

“I know!” Mac pouted. “It’s so sad, so you’ll help this rataroni out, right?”

“I find it odd that Azul is demanding my assistance, seeing as how I am not the one that made the deal with him to begin with. However... I cannot turn my back on a friend in need. I will lend you a helping wing—er, hand.”

“Sweet, sweet!!” Mac clasped Raven’s hands happily. “Just remember to show up this Sunday afternoon. Meet up’s in the town square. Oh, and be sure to wear something cute!”

“Something cute? Why would...”

“It’s part of the deal—so you just gotta, okay? That’s what Azul said!” Mac paused, before adding, “Oh, oh! And bring some homemade choco in a heart-shaped box!! That’s another contract condition!”

“Oh... O-Okay...?”

Raven leaned back against a lamp post, anxiously winding a finger around the string of small pearls at her collarbone. In her other hand was a bag, and in that bag, a heart-shaped box of homemade chocolates—just as Mac had told her.

A silver heart-shaped charm dangled from the necklace, lying still against her real hammering heart. Rarely did she venture out into the local town—and, standing there by her lonesome, the raven felt out of place and awkward.

An addendum to a story that had already been penned.

She watched as her silver charm caught a wink of sun and guided the light down its curve. Reflected back in the charm’s surface was the raven herself.

Today, her inky hair was cast up in a high pigtail and secured with a cobalt ribbon. She had traded her usual outfit for a pale blouse with billowy puff sleeves, white stockings, and a high waist skirt in a plaid pattern—cobalt, like her ribbons.

I hope this satisfies the conditions of the deal.

Raven checked the time on her phone; any minute now, Azul would be showing up, and they’d get this over with. Then she could return to her attic to roost, and Mac could return to feasting on cheese and inhaling poison—

“Oya. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you, Miss Raven?” a silken cadence called out to her, rising above the hustle and bustle of the town.

“... You,” she responded flatly, narrowing her eyes at a certain eel as he parted from a crowd.

Ah.

Jade, too, had abandoned his typical uniform in favor of casual comfort. He wore a pair of dress pants and a grey turtleneck—and over it was a brown trench coat, unbuttoned to show off how snugly that sweater fit against his lean, muscular body.

Raven squinted. His earring was slightly different today as well. Rather than three diamond shaped sturgeon scales dangling from his ear, there were heart shaped ones. Blue and glassy, like the calm sea after a storm.

His hands were polite folded behind his back... hiding something. Whatever that something was, petals of pink, red, and yellow-orange were poking out.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have said he looked handsome—and innocent—enough. But she did know better.

“What are you doing here?” Raven demanded, no longer playing with her necklace. Her hands went to her sides, curling into balls.

“Fufufu. The town is a public space. I am free to come and go as I please, the very same as you.” Jade tilted his head to one side. “Although today, I am here on an errand. The Mostro Lounge is short on centerpiece supplies, you see. I have been sent to restock.”

“What a coincidence. I’m also here to help the Mostro Lounge restock,” Raven said, a bit of bitterness slipping into her voice, “as per a contract.”

Jade attempted to appear sympathetic—but he allowed a cruel chuckle to escape him. “I see now. I was not aware that you were the one indebted to Octavinelle, Miss Raven. Had I known sooner, I would not have hesitated to summon you to fill in for Kon-san’s morning shift.”

“I’m not a waitress for you to order around.” Raven jutted out her chin defiantly. “I’m here strictly on business, so if you would kindly leave me be...!!”

“I believe you said you had to assist the Mostro Lounge. Would it not be prudent, then, to go about tending to that duty rather than standing about and looking like a lost lamb?”

“Sh-Shut up! It’s not my fault that Azul is running late...!!”

“You were waiting for Azul?” Jade said, his brows pinching together briefly. “You are terribly mistaken. It is not Azul who is assisting you with the restock, but myself.”

“... Beg pardon?”

Wear something cute, bring homemade chocolates, Mac had said. And it has to be you, Raven, not me! But why? Slowly, slowly... The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

A thought dawned on Raven:

I’ve definitely been tricked.

“Well!! That’s all fine and dandy, but I think I shall be on my way home now. I really must be having a chat with a friend of mine,” she babbled, turning on her heel. They’re going to be buried in tomato sauce when I get to them.

“How cruel of you to abandon those in need, Miss Raven. And to think that Mac-san shall be without their taste buds... and I, burdened with the task of restocking by my lonesome. What a tragic way to spend Valentine’s Day,” Jade exhaled deeply and wiped at an imaginary tear. “Shikushikushiku...”

Raven’s left eye twitched. “Don’t you paint me as the bad guy here...!!”

“Aren’t you?” Jade challenged, a smile still plastered on his face despite his mocking tone.

“Grrr...!!” She whipped around, thrusting an index finger at him. “Listen here... Leech!! The only reason I am even here was to help someone out of a contract your shady boss roped them into!”

“If you are as selfless and loving as you claim to be, then you should have no issues with shopping with me,” Jade countered smoothly. “After all, they say that actions speak louder than words.”

The little bird vibrated with irritation, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. Her stomach coiled tight, uneasiness brewing. As much as she hated to admit to it, he was right.

Raven clenched her teeth and sent a glare his way. “Fine...!! But I will be keeping an eye on you to ensure that there is no funny business!”

“Then by all means, ‘keep an eye on me’, and do not let your gaze stray for even a single moment,” Jade chuckled, somehow sneering through his smile. “I welcome it.”

The eel held out a hand to Raven. “We’d best not be separated while on our errand.”

She stared hesitantly. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and the hand he offered. Subtle changes in her expression occurred in rapid succession—the raising of her lids, the tremble to her lower lip, the tinge to her cheeks.

“... Yeah. We’d best not,” Raven finally agreed, her grip on her bag—the bag containing her chocolates—tightened. “Which is precisely why I will follow you at a safe distance.”

“Ah, but that would ruin the surprise.”

“What, the bouquet? You’re not exactly doing a masterful job of hiding it.”

“Nor are you doing well to hide your little surprise, Miss Raven.”

“I was deceived. This chocolate is not meant for you.”

“I didn’t say that it was, now did I?”

“... I’m going to eat them myself, then. That’ll show you!”

“Do with it what you wish, for selfish purposes or not,” Jade laughed, revealing his bouquet—all the colors of the setting sun. “These flowers, on the other hand, are meant to be gifted...”

He pushed the bouquet toward Raven. Up close, the flowers seemed even more vibrant and beautiful. Their warm hues enveloping the raven, enchanting her senses. Mesmerized, she reached out to accept the flowers—when Jade suddenly clicked his tongue and pulled them away.

“But alas—not to you,” he teased, pressing a finger to his lips. “Do try to keep up with me now, Miss Raven.”

Jade turned and dove into a sea of townspeople, leaving a trail of sunset-colored petals in his wake. And, like the fool that she was, a fuming raven stormed after him—chocolates still in hand. Heart quivering.

Terrariums—the flowers were meant for terrariums all along.

Jade had taken his sweet time leading her down a winding path and to an art supply store tucked away in a corner, and even longer to observe the shape and feel of each terrarium container. Spherical, cuboidal, prismatic... Holding up the bouquet every so often to compare how the flowers would look in each.

In the end, he had gone wild with his purchases, electing to buy a selection of shapes, along with other supplies—just to keep himself amused. Jade had paid with a platinum card embossed with Octavinelle’s logo. Mostro Lounge Master Cash Card, it read. Azul’s property; do not steal! Sign the loaning form if you must borrow.

It was all for the terrariums, for business as usual.

I should have realized sooner. Stupid, stupid, Raven scolded herself.

She grunted, struggling to carry the bagful of terrarium supplies that Jade had saddled her with, while he carried one of his own without any trouble. The eel cast her a mocking glance over his shoulder.

“Are you in need of a break, Miss Raven?”

Bite me, she wanted to snap back—but a bark of pain shot up her arms, silencing her defiance. “... M-Maybe.”

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I see a café up ahead. We can rest there for a few moments, though it may require the purchase of a food item if we wish for a table.”

“Sounds peachy.”

Together, they swept through the café doors. The duo was immediately greeted by the smell of sugar and the hum of the other patrons, many of them couples.

Raven stiffened at the sight, turning a deep shade of red. Suddenly, she was very, very aware of how she—and Jade—looked.

“I think I changed my mi—“ Raven was cut off when he grasped her hand and held fast. She jolted back, her skin turning clammy. “Eeep! Wh-What are you...”

“Table for two,” Jade requested of an employee. “We do not intend to stay for a large meal, so just an ice-cream parfait will do.”

“Certainly, sir. Right this way.” The server quickly seated them, and with a bow, departed to retrieve their order.

“... You can let go of my hand now,” Raven hissed, attempting to free herself. To no avail, initially. She tugged again, and finally broke free, aggressively rubbing at her hand to ward off the residual eel cooties.

Jade chuckled, tucking his strand of black hair behind his ear. His earring glimmered in the afternoon sunlight pouring in through wide windows. “Play along. You are aware that today is Valentine’s Day, yes?”

“Yes, but I do not understand what that has to do with... physical contact, especially seeing as how we are not engaged in that kind of a relationship.”

“It is simple.” He laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. With the most serene of smiles, Jade purred, “We should take advantage of the couple discounts being offered at eateries such as this. An excellent way to save on spending, especially after that particularly large purchase made on the Mostro Lounge’s coin.”

“You’re a shrewd one.”

“Why, thank you.”

Raven’s hands curled in her lap. Her lips pursed, she found her gaze trained on the white lace of the tablecloth, rather than on her dining companion.

Time and time again, she has been tricked today, told white lies. Teased and deceived. It was simply how he was—and though it did irk her in some ways, it also never made a moment dull.

Hot and cold. Push and pull. Bitter and sweet. That was Jade Leech.

“Your parfait is here!!” The server from before popped up in her periphery, startling the raven from her thoughts. They set it down and stepped back. “Here you are—enjoy your date!”

“Thank you. We certainly will,” Jade reacted before Raven could and dismissed the server with a wave. “... Well, let’s dig in.”

“You didn’t correct them.”

“We won’t get the discount if they don’t believe this farce,” he replied calmly, nudging the parfait and a spoon toward her. “Now then, less talking and more eating. You need your strength if you plan on helping me haul all the supplies back to campus.”

She let out a huff, but dug her spoon into a frozen mound. The parfait was massive, composed of several scoops of pink, blue, and green ice-cream, flanked by chocolate wafer bars. With a smattering of sprinkles, a crown of whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry on top, the dessert looked absolutely picture perfect.

Raven steadily brought a spoonful of pink goop into her mouth, allowing a sweet bubblegum flavor to spread across her tongue. Her eyes cut to Jade, who had not bothered to sample any for himself. He smiled back, gaze half-lidded as if recalling a fond memory.

“Have some, too. I feel weird eating it alone—and you must be hungry too. I know how big your appetite is.” Raven pushed the parfait glass toward him.

“If you insist.”

The head of his spoon sunk into a green scoop with shards of chocolate chip weaved throughout. It pulled away cleanly with a large mound, which was soon consumed. Then another bite, and a third, a fourth... Before Raven knew it, a good third of the parfait was missing.

Jade patted his mouth with a napkin, eyeing her expectantly.

“Are you still hungry?” Raven asked, eyebrows raising. She retrieved a scoop of blue this time—vaguely flavored like a medley of fruits.

“Perhaps... though I do not plan on taking more of the parfait for myself. Were I to, there would be none left for you.”

The fruit seemed to sour in her mouth. It was true that she was hungry, yes—but at the same time, she did not wish for Jade to be left dissatisfied.

She frowned, setting her spoon down and reaching into her bag. Seconds later, she produced a heart-shaped package and shoved it at him.

“Here, chocolates. They’re yours now, since I have no other use for them,” Raven mumbled insistently. “You can eat them now, or save them for later. Just hurry up and take them before I change my mind.”

“Oya, it is rather bold to profess your undying love to me in such a public space.” Jade teased, chuckling lightly into his hand.

“B-Be quiet...!! We... We can’t get that couple’s discount if one of us passes out from hunger.”

“Fufufu. I doubt that either of us would.” His mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. “... Thank you for the sweets, Miss Raven. I will be certain to savor every last bite.”

The town became even busier in the late afternoon, filing with the sound of street performers and spectators. A monkey in a vest and a small hat barreled by Raven’s feet as she and Jade exited the café, nearly causing her to double over. A chorus of children’s laughter chased after the monkey—and she, the raven, stumbled on her recovery.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to reconsider my offer,” Jade suggested, a hand on the small of her back to support her. That same hand trailed around and tickled the back of hers. “It would be a shame if we lost one another in this crowd.”

Raven regarded him with a pointed look, but slipped her hand into his without further resistance. “... Only because I have to.”

“Of course, of course.”

Together, they braved the bustling streets.

A new world unfolded before Raven’s very eyes. Costumed performers of all kinds paraded about, garnering attention from passerbys. Some tossed confetti and candies, others brandished instruments. Brass, strings, percussion—all their notes floated up into the festive atmosphere.

There went a dancer, leaping like a lithe deer, limbs outstretched and the flowy fabric of their uniform like a curtain of smoke. And here was an artist perched on a stool, sketching the outline of a woman posed on a wooden crate. A young man jingled a tambourine, trying to catch coins in his cap.

A number of food carts patrolled the roads, calling out their wares. Crepes, sandwiches, sodas... Families, friends, and couples lining benches, exchanging bites.

Love was truly in the air and oozing out of every pore of the community.

Raven couldn’t keep her head still. She turned this way and that, trying to soak up every last sight and sound. Her golden eyes sparkled with wonder.

Jade, of course, took note. “Excited, are you?”

“It’s very different than Night Raven College,” she replied shyly. “Almost like a magic kingdom.”

“Magic kingdom? You can be rather melodramatic at times.”

“Yeah? So can you and Azul and Floyd, with all your fake tears...” Her wandering eyes caught something bright red as she spoke. “Oh...!! Look.”

Raven tugged on Jade’s hand, urging him to a halt. Her gaze was transfixed on a lamp post with a multitude of red strings. At the other ends of those ribbons were heart-shaped balloons, as red as blood.

His eyebrows pinched together in mocking sympathy. “You truly are fascinated by the simplest things. Is it true what they say? That ravens are attracted to shiny objects?”

Her mouth flew open to protest, but she was interrupted by a woman by the balloon-bearing lamp post “You there!! Sir with the earring and ma’am with the blue ribbon! Care for some balloons?”

“Er... What are they for?” Raven asked.

“For love, of course,” the woman laughed. “Today’s all about appreciating one another, right? This is my way of spreading love.”

She separated three balloons from her bundle and offered them with a flourish. Raven eagerly accepted them, staring up in wonder at their floating bodies.

“Oh, and one more thing!!” The woman produced a red ribbon from her jacket pocket and nodded at the duo. “Your pinkie fingers, please!”

Raven held out her hand as directed, letting the woman secure the ribbon in a neat little knot. The balloon bearer extended the length of the ribbon, glancing to Jade. Raven, too, looked at him expectantly. Jade expelled a quiet sigh and allowed the red ribbon to be tied to his pinkie.

“There you go!” the woman declared triumphantly. “You’re all set now! Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, folks!”

“Thank you!” Raven shouted over her shoulder—even as Jade started to lead her away. The woman waved and waved until she was out of sight.

“... It has been a while since I have seen you this enthusiastic,” Jade remarked with a glance to the balloons. “I do suppose it is a departure from the monotony of daily life, but to think that such little things bring this amount of joy...”

“It reminds me of a story a little birdie once told me,” Raven chirped with a small giggle. “The story of the Red Thread of Fate.”

“Oh?” Jade raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“The Red Thread of Fate is said to connect ‘destined people’. It can tangle, twist, or stretch, but it can never break. From the moment you are born, you have an unseen thread flowing from your pinkie finger, tying your fate to that of the person on the other end,” Raven recited, her tone turning solemn—her storytelling voice.

“Someday,” she said, “you will cross paths with the one that shares your thread, and your lives will be forever changed by the encounter. It could be a meaningful battle between rivals, the loss of a loved one, the promise of marriage... but the course of their stories will never again be the same.”

“How sentimental. And what, pray tell, does this red thread of ours mean, Miss Raven?” Jade questioned, lifting his end of the ribbon—the crimson shining in the sunlight.

“How would I know? I’m not a god,” she huffed. “It’s just fun to imagine the possibilities.”

“It is, indeed. Even so, surely there must be one favored conclusion to the story of the Red Thread of Fate in that pretty little head of yours.” He brought a hand to his mouth, yanking Raven toward him.

She glanced up with a glare. “I’d have to have a bird brain to tell you that.”

“Is that not the duty of a storyteller? To stand on stage and tell the tale until the curtain closes. Your adoring audience awaits.”

“You’re being booted from the metaphorical theater before you get to hear or see the ending.”

“I would like to see you try.”

Jade slowed to a stop, Raven following suit. They were back in the town square, by the lamp post where they had met up. Ending where it had all begun.

He pulled out his phone and consulted the time. Jade unlocked his device, quickly wrote up a message, and tucked it away again. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides,” Jade cast a pitiful look at Raven’s trembling arms, “I doubt you would be able to haul those supplies the remainder of the way, and certainly not in an efficient manner.”

“... Then what was the point of stating in the contract that you needed a helping hand?”

“I am afraid that even I am not entirely privy as to Azul’s intentions,” he chuckled, gently prying a bag from her hands. “I will be certain to let Azul know that Mac-san’s end of the contract has been fulfilled.”

“Eh...? But—“

“You have our thanks for lending the Mostro Lounge your time. You are free to go now, Miss Raven. I’ve already summoned Floyd in your stead to assist me.”

“Th-The ribbon, you fool! I can’t leave if I’m still bound to you!”

“Oh? You don’t say.” His singsong held no concern whatsoever, only amusement.

“S-Stop playing dumb! You know very well what you are doing!!”

“You said it yourself, Miss Raven. Our lives have been forever changed since our encounter. There is no going back now.”

“Stop manipulating the narrative to suit your needs.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean. Jade smiled, feigning innocence. “You’ve resigned yourself to spending the rest of the day with me—at least until Floyd arrives to relieve you of your burden. Ah, but given his moodiness, who knows when that will be.”

“Just because your surname is Leech doesn’t mean you need to suck the life out of me like one,” Raven snapped. She reached for the red ribbon, intending to undo it—

—only to be met with a bouquet a second time. Flowers the color of the sunset, smelling like the drip of sunshine and a cut of meadow.

“For you—no strings attached this time.”

“Those are for the terrarium centerpieces.”

“I can easily replace them,” Jade insisted, “and I must repay you for your kind chocolate gift. Consider this... ‘favors for favors’, so that neither one of us is left indebted to the other.”

“... Alright. I’ll take them, but only because they might be useful for brewing some new inks.”

“I’m glad to see that you are being agreeable.” Jade slipped the flowers to her. “Take good care of them.”

Raven leaned against a lamp post, cradling the large bouquet in one arm. Her heart fluttered, and her limbs felt as light as air. Warm and floaty, like the balloons in her hand. 

Favors for favors—but it still counted as a gift from Jade, and that very thought sent her mind spiraling. She took a shaky breath, and focused on the confetti and laughter in the distance, the song and dance of the street performers.

Waiting and waiting for Floyd.

“Miss Raven.”

“What now? Haven’t you bullied me enough for today? Are you still not satisfied, you sadist?”

She dared to lift her eyes to meet Jade’s—and her heart stood still, for he looked back. His sharp eyes soft and shrouded by long lashes, his lips pulled into a tender smile.

“Contract or no, I always enjoy my time with you—I enjoyed today,” Jade murmured. “I hope that we are able to do this again sometime.”

“... Shut up. J-Just shut up already, i-it’s embarrassing listening to you speak...!!” She buried her head in the flowers, concealing her pink face. Still feeling floaty, like a balloon, high on happiness.

“Fufufu. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Raven.”

[fruitcoops]

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

“Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”