#Still gotta finish painting the boots

[silverior968]

Oh the joys of painting broken old winter boots with acrylic paint

[i-heart-emos]

Drunken mess /Luke castellan

Pairing: Luke x fem Apollo!reader

Warnings: underage drinking(drink responsibly please), mentions of being drunk, some cussing,little suggestive dialogue

Summary: what happens when the Dionysus cabins and the Hermes cabin team up nothing good that for sure

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You and Luke had learned one thing when you both drink nothing turns out well. Both of you being wild troublemakers end up spray painting on the cabin and wake up with little to no recollection. But since you both wanna keep your positions as head counselor of the Hermes and Apollo cabin you decide that only 1 of you should drink. But you guys don’t drink an awful lot, the only real time is when Hermes and Dionysus kids team up and all hell breaks loose.

“Hey love hear about the party tonight” Luke asked leaning on your cabin doorframe

“Of course everyone’s been talking about it” you respond continuing to pick up your room

“Your going right” Luke asked walking over to you

“Only if your going pretty boy”

He wrapped his arms around your waist slowly kissing your neck

“You know it” he mumbles into your neck

“Ugh get off of me I need to do this and your distracting me” you whine

“Alright fine see you later” he said laying a quick peck on your lips before he leaves he stops and turns to you “can you wear that red dress I really like”

“Of course”

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As your getting ready you start looking threw your closet for your red dress. Your hands swipe through all of your clothes finding your red dress. It’s not bright red more of a maroon it’s had v neck line and black lace over it. You go over to your jewelry box and pick out a silver cross. After you come out of the bathroom you hear Clarisse whistle

“Sometimes I forget your a daughter of ares not Aphrodite” Clarisse states looking you up and down

“Why thank you” you say walking over to your shoes picking long black boots.

As you grab your black clutch you hear someone knock on your door. Just as you turn to the door Luke walks in. You watch his eyes widen as he looks you up and down.

“Gods you look…gorgeous” he finally finished making you cheeks heat up as a big grin appears on your face.

“Don’t look too bad yourself castellan” you say smirking at him seeing him still looking flustered. When he finally shakes out of his daze he puts his arm out.

“Mlady” you grab his arm and smile

“Why thank you kind sir”

“Have fun kids use protection please” Clarisse scream from the back

“CLARISSE WHAT THE HELL” you holler back at her vulgar statement. You hear her laughing loudly as you leave the cabin with Luke

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One you guys enter the amphitheater your hit with the smell of alcohol. Everyone seems a little crazier you can immediately tell this has something to do with the Hermes kids or the Dionysus kids. You slightly turn to look with a stern look on your face

“Luke is it just me or does it smell like alcohol”

“No idea what you’re talking about” he says with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Luke Castellan don’t you dare gaslight me” you state sternly giving him a mean glare.

“Alright the Hermes kids and Dionysus kids might have teamed up to get some alcohol”

You know the Hermes kids where troublemakers as it is but the Dionysus kids too that’s just a recipe for Disaster. Then again there not your cabin so you shouldn’t have to worry right.

Luke gave you a stare that basically read ”are you gonna judge me because I let my cabin run a muck and buy no steal a bunch of alcohol.

“It’s fine they deserve to have a little fun” you finally state making look grow a big grin on his face and plant a big kiss on your cheek

“Ugh you two are absolutely disgusting” says a voice from your side. You turn to see Chris there holding two beers

“ here one for you and one for your girlfriend” Chris says handing Luke the two beers

“Oh no the girlfriend isn’t drinking tonight someone’s gotta watch the kid” you say motioning to Luke. He just crosses his arms and rolls his eyes with a pout on his lips

“Well guess I’ll just have to drink for the both of us” Luke says before downing the first beer and moving on to the second

“Woah there tiger slow down” you put your hand on Luke chest

“Don’t worry I will I’m gonna go find Chris” he says running off you chuckle to yourself as you go find one of your Aphrodite friends and talk with her for a while

————————————————————————

It’s starting to get let and you can feel the party slowly getting crazier. Suddenly you feel a pair of hands on your waist. You turn around and see Luke flushed cheeks big smirk on his face as he continues to rub your hips up and down.

“Hi there princess” he says nibbling on your earlobe

“Woah someone’s eager” you say back as he slowly moves his hands to your ass.

“Hey hey how much have you had to drink” you ask looking into his eyes which are already staring at you

“Only 3 beers” you look at him with an arched brow “Ok maybe like 5…6…7”

“Gods Luke are you serious shit your gonna be so hungover tomorrow”

“Hahaha-I-am-aren’t-I” He attempted saying but it was almost incoherent either how much he was hiccuping between sentences.

“Wow your so beautiful look at those eyes” He slowly brushed you curtain bangs away from your face. “You wanna know something funny”

“What love” you say as he continues to hold your face

“I’m gonna marry you one day I’ve pretty much planned are dream wedding oh and kids I definitely want 3 all boys there gonna be so handsome cause there gonna look like you” he states giggling quietly to himself. After all that you look at him stunned

“Your so adorable luke” “your even cut-“ he goes to say but is interrupted by himself bending over and puking all over your shoes.

“Oops sorry love” he said “here let me kiss it better” he goes in for a kiss but you immediately push him back

“Oh definitely not with your throw up mouth let’s go and get you cleaned up alright handsome boy”

“Whatever you say pretty girl”

You gently take his hand and drag him back to the Hermes cabin which proved to be a harder task you first intended with him being is freakishly tall and stumbling everywhere like a deer in ice.

When you finally make it to the cabin he attempts to lean on the doorframe of the cabin to immediately fall.

“Oh my gods Luke” he scrambles getting up you find his bunk and prep his bed your grab a trash can and put it next to his bed in case he needs to throw up. You also put up his pillows so he doesn’t throw up in his sleep. When finally get him in bed and go to leave he screams your name

You turn around seeing him with a large pout on his face

“Pleaseeeee stay with me” “oh alright you big baby I’ll stay with your” “yay” he silently cheers and you slip in next to him kissing his forehead and watching as his breathing evens out.

————————————————————————

Bonus:

“That’s right boy get it all up” you say rubbing Luke’s back soothingly as he throws up in the toilet

“Ugh I’m never drinking again”

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A/N: I’m so sorry this took me so long to make I’ve been super busy with classes but if you like anything you want me to write requests are always open your can read my requesting rules other than that hope your having a great day remember to eat and drink water ❤️❤️

[deliciouskeys]

This fic has been entirely inspired by @vanshoundd's Butchlander cowboy AU art. I went feral after I saw it and wrote 3k words as soon as my work week was over. The art didn't need fic, but... um... now you have it.

(thank you for keeping the Butchlander tag alive with your pretty art, Vans)

Frontier Justice. Butchlander.

Billy had just ordered his third glass of whiskey when a blond stranger strolled in through the swinging doors of the bar. The man decided to situate himself on the stool right beside him even though there were plenty of empty seats at the bar at this early evening hour. Billy glanced over as the man took off his bright white leather hat and set it on the stool beside him, wiped the sweat off his brow and took out an actual comb to rearrange his matted hair. He looked so very familiar and Billy was trying to place him. When the barman came over to ask the stranger ‘what’ll it be?’ and he ordered a sarsaparilla, Billy couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Bout what?” the man asked nonchalantly, even as popped the metal cap off the glass bottle the barman took out from underneath the bar.

Billy realized it was odd to be irritated by another man’s beverage choice, but this was ridiculous. “Enjoyin’ that?”

“Yeah?” the other man answered in an equally querying tone.

Looking at him carefully, Billy suddenly pieced together why the man looked familiar. “Say, aren’t you that Jack Lander fellow?”

“Indeed,” Jack answered, taking another long sip from the long bottle neck. “You a fan?”

“Just didn’t recognize you without all ‘em rhinestones and garish boots.”

Jack Lander was a notorious figure in the area. He gained his fame by traveling around with the Wild West Show that went around the bigger towns. He was an incredible natural talent, probably the best marksman this side of the Mississippi, and an expert with the lasso, although Billy always thought it was mostly showy tricks than good old-fashioned useful skills. Jack used to wow audiences with all sort of ridiculous feats like standing up on a galloping horse and managing to shoot glass bottle targets on the run. Billy attended twice before the show shut down, the first time dragged against his will by Hughie, a young ranchhand who was eager to see the show. The next year when the show came around, Billy went into town on his own, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like seeing Jack Lander’s gaudy button shirt with rhinestone highlights across the chest and shoulders, catching the afternoon light seductively. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice how pretty Jack’s ass was in those newfangled denim dungarees you couldn’t get at most supply stores, stretched drum-tight around his hips and legs, a pretty blue color. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t rub one out in his tent that night, remembering the way Jack looked doing all his fancy trick roping.

Jack hmphed into his bottle of root beer. “What was wrong with my boots?”

“Other than the fact they were scarlet red and the spurs were painted to look like gold? Nothing at all.” Billy chuckled.

“Those were for the ladies in the audience,” Jack said flatly.

Jack Lander was certainly a ladykiller, but the reality was there were still not many as many ladies out here as fellows, and Billy couldn’t believe this man didn’t enjoy at least some attention from men on the side. “Didn’t realize it was exclusively for the ladies,” he said, winking, taking the last sip of his whiskey, gauging Jack’s reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Far from rebuffing the flirtation, Jack finally turned and looked at him, and smiled amiably. He made to clink bottle to glass before noticing Billy had finished his whiskey, and motioned the bartender over to ask for a refill for his ‘friend.’

“I’ll be paying for it,” Billy reassured the bartender who looked at the two of them skeptically. “It’ll be my fourth and the sun ain’t even set yet...” Billy warned Jack as he raised the refilled glass.

“Should have ordered sarsaparilla,” Jack said in sing-song, winking, clinking bottle to glass.

“Why are ya drinkin that vile kid stuff?”

“Because I’m thirsty?” Jack paused before adding. “And I like my hand steady and my wits about me.”

“Wits, huh. Well you might enjoy the conversation with me a bit more if ya didn’t have so many wits about you.”

Jack laughed, flashing his miraculously perfect white teeth, none of them crooked, broken, or worn down.

Billy glanced down to see he had not one but two holsters at each hip. What the hell did he need four revolvers and such a steady hand for? All Billy knew about Jack after the Wild West Show shut down a few years ago was that he started making his living bounty hunting. Sometimes it was runaway criminals, awful men. A lot of the time it was Apaches and Comanches that he’d shoot on sight, which was against the law, strictly speaking, not that there was anyone around here who would ever enforce it. It was a risky and cruel profession compared to driving herds across the plains like Billy was usually hired to do. It was a wonder that not only was Jack still alive, but that he looked not at all worse for the wear, even though his days of sleeping in a comfortable wagon trailer and getting glammed up for shows were over. His outfit was more practical, certainly-- baggier, brown trousers and coat with grime on the lower hems, a wide brim hat with no embellishments, unless one counted the visible salt fronts from head sweat. But he still had a small red bandana tied around his collar, and the shirt peeking out from underneath his coat was still a crisp white cotton number from what Billy could see of it. Billy was surprised at how tempting it was to peel Jack out of his layers and see if he was still a dandy at heart, and if his shirt was tailored to be form-fitting.

They both finished off their drinks, eyeing each other. They got up and Billy paid both of their tabs.

As soon as they walked out of the bar, Jack pulled Billy into the narrow shady alley between the bar and the next building—an inn of ill-repute of some sort.

“Can you really afford to be paying for other people’s drinks, William?” Jack asked in a hushed tone. Billy’s body was responding swiftly to being in close quarters with this man, but he soon felt the end of a revolver pressed into his chest. “From what I’ve heard of you, all you’ve done is rustled some cattle for someone else every now and then. Truth be told, I don’t even know why there’s a large bounty on your head when you haven’t held up a train or robbed a bank or been in any sort of bandit gang.”

Billy smiled wryly. He had his long rifle slung over his shoulder, but there was no way he could defend himself with it now. “Should’ve figured they’d put a bounty on me. Reckon it might’ve been the sheriff I shot over in Bitter Creek.”

“Ah, that’d do it,” Jack grinned, and his perfect white teeth looked more menacing in the shade of the alley. “Why the hell would you do that, William Butcher.”

“You can call me Billy if you’re going to end me. The sheriff was a piece of work, I got on the wrong side of him and it was going to be him or me. I didn’t run afoul of anything, he just took it into his mind that he didn’t like me. He hanged eight innocent people in the span of a few months working at that godforsaken little outpost. Mad with power. But I guess someone like you wouldn’t be judging a man for that.”

Jack smiled, more friendly this time without the rowful of teeth. There wasn’t really anything to lose. Billy leaned forward, despite the barrel of the Colt digging into his flesh, flicked the hat off Jack’s head and full-on kissed his would-be judge and executioner.

Jack inhaled in surprise, but returned the kiss full force, the faint taste of whiskey and the soft drink still on their lips intermingling. Jack eased the gun away, fumbling to put it back in the holster, breathing a quiet muffled moan into the kiss.

“Fuck-“ he said as he tore away. “Jesus Christ.”

“I would like the honor of fucking you. Just once. Before you bring my head in or whatever it is you do for proof of your kills.”

Jack was staring at him, pupils blown wide, still breathing hard.

“Take off your fucking coat. Let me look at ya,” Billy said, surprising himself with how imperious he sounded when he was in pretty dire straits.

Jack obeyed him wordlessly. Took off his coat, but didn’t give Billy much of a chance to admire him-- launched himself right back into the kiss, as if he were parched and Billy’s mouth was water. Jack’s figure hadn’t changed much since the show years, nice tapered waist that Billy instinctively grasped. Jack was a couple of inches shorter than him, and light enough that Billy simply lifted him off his feet, planting him on one of the water barrels stored in the alley. Jack didn’t protest, only pulled Billy in closer, pulling his hat out of the way before kissing him again.

They came apart again. Billy was out of breath too. “I’ll be honest, if you tease me like that I’m liable to just fuck you in the alley. Rather do it somewhere else. Unless you’re in a real rush to get to your next target.”

“Can’t say I am,” Jack said, still catching his breath.

“I don’t have a room at the inn. I sleep in a tent outside of town until there’s another cattle run.”

“Fine by me.” Jack shrugged. “I’ll fuck you under the stars. Inn here’s nothing to write home about-- got lice the one time I stayed the night coming through here before.”

Billy smiled wistfully. They rode out of town, the sun already low near the horizon, and the air quickly shifting from stifling to pleasantly cool to chilly. Jack was following behind him, having taken Billy’s rifle too. Billy thought about how maybe this was all a strange ploy to just kill him outside of the town line. Jack could shoot him from behind, and knowing his aim, he wouldn’t have any trouble dispatching him with one shot to the head, before Billy knew what hit him. But when Billy dared look behind him, Jack would smile, looking eager for what they had planned. No fear that Billy could lead him into an ambush of some sort. Pure unadulterated confidence. Billy found his tent site, and took a few minutes to build a small fire in the stone ring he’d made before. Maybe he was just stalling, knowing that once they did the deed, he was probably not long for this world. He saw Jack’s black boots come into his view once the fire was going strong.

“You wanna get on with it?” Jack said, and there was a note of whininess in his tone.

“Put the guns away, at least,” Billy muttered. “So I can peel you out of that outfit.”

His tent really wasn’t made for fucking—too narrow and low for anything but sleeping. The air wasn’t too cold yet. Billy lay out as many thick blankets as he could on the ground and Jack seemed to have no reservations, starting to strip himself down.

“You a seasoned rider?” Billy asked tugged off his brown pants.

Jack pulled a face. “Ridden my share. Tame, wild, you name it. Just so long as I like the look of it, I’ll ride it.”

This was a fantasy come true. That irritating pretty rodeo cowboy he was so taken with years ago was lying underneath him, ripe for the taking, admitting to wanting it. Billy opened his shirt carefully, not wanting to ruin the fancy tailoring or ivory buttons. The shirt wasn’t pristine white—there were pitstains and a bit of yellowness around the back of the collar. Jack wasn’t as perfect up close as he was in the rodeo ring. He smelled like horses, hay, and gunpowder.

“Reckon I’ll spare you if you’re real sweet to me,” Jack said, a smug smile on his face.

“And what if I’m rough?” Billy asked. He was almost reluctant to do it but reached into his boot and pulled out a sizeable knife that he pressed against Jack’s throat. Jack’s breath hitched, but he didn’t look too unnerved. This sick son-of-a-bitch looked like he was getting a thrill out of it.

“What if I’m rough with ya and take what I want then just slit your throat and leave you here in the desert for the crows?”

Jack was still smiling. “You won’t want to.”

“Why? Cause you’re such a good fuck?”

“Cause I like your style and you don’t seem like the kind.” Jack leaned forward, so that Billy instinctively moved the knife away from his throat before remembering himself.

Billy shoved him down into the blankets, holding him there because Jack kept trying to get up and resume kissing, or maybe intent on getting away and getting to the guns he’d discarded a few yards away. “Soft enough for you? Warm enough?”

Jack nodded. As Billy pulled Jack’s pants off his legs, his cock sprang out of its confines, raring to go. You’d never know they were negotiating who was going to murder whom. Jack Lander was a pretty little thing alright. A deadly, dangerous, unscrupulous little thing with a terrible profession, but Billy didn’t mind.

Billy didn’t want to have the knife in his hand. He wanted to take his time and enjoy this. As long as he kept this self-satisfied little strumpet of a man underneath him, he could probably hold him down with his weight. He threw the knife out of reach and picked up Jack’s legs over his own shoulders. He spat a gob of spit into his palm, quickly preparing himself, testing the body in front of him out with two probing fingers.

Jack squirmed but looked receptive, but when Billy pushed himself inside, there was a grunt of discomfort.

“Don’t have oil on me,” Billy muttered, kneading his hand against the soft flesh of Jack’s ass.

“Didn’t think you would,” Jack shot back, laughing.

Billy spat more into his hand, pulling out just enough to add a bit more to the mix.

“You gonna fuck me or what?” Jack said, sneering, moving his knees so Billy’s neck was squeezed tight between his calves. What Billy thought was a vulnerable position for Jack now let him choke Billy with relative ease. Billy shoved his legs down but Jack just wrapped his legs around Billy’s waist, digging his heels into him out of habit, as if even without spurs the motion could cause things to move along faster.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll fuck ya,” Billy gritted out through his teeth and set up a fast pace. He still couldn’t believe his fortune, both good and bad. He never thought anyone would bother looking for him—he hadn’t even shot that sheriff fatally, but he left town to be on the safe side and heard through hearsay that the bastard died of blood infection anyway. But if there was ever a good way to get hunted down this was probably it. If Jack Lander still managed to kill him, at least he got to fuck him first.

It was growing dark and the campfire cast flickering light along Jack’s pale skin, and their shadows against the tent looked elongated and distorted. Their two horses watched them from the post they’re tied to. Jack turned out to be quite a screamer, shouting and cursing into the empty desert when he came, hands going from tight fists to falling completely limp by his side. Billy pushed in quickly, relentlessly, satisfied that he made the other man mewl first. It wasn’t long before he came too. He slumped down on Jack, as much out of physical tiredness as growing mentally weary when he thought about how he’d probably have to kill Jack. At the very least, he’d have to take all the guns and both horses if he didn’t want Jack to follow him to the next town.

“You plottin’ what to do about me?” Jack asked, as if reading his mind. “I’m not gonna kill ya. I’m not gonna turn you in. I don’t need the money. I do this for my own pleasure.”

Billy relented and shifted his body weight off of him, courteously offering Jack the side closer to the campfire, but saying nothing.

Jack moved closer, pressing his body into Billy’s and looking sleepy. Neither was probably planning on it, but they fell asleep in the open air, only waking up when the fire died down and the air had gotten nippy. They shuffled into the tent, Jack falling asleep before Billy, squeezed close, arms in a loose embrace around him.

The next morning Jack was sitting there, watching Billy build another campfire. He looked half-asleep, shivering, wrapped in one of the blankets, with only his head showing and his hair mussed.

“I don’t have any more wood. We’re gonna have to resort to prairie coal this morning.”

“You think I’m so soft? That I never slept outdoors or made do with what’s out here?”

“You don’t look like you have.”

“Well you’re mistaken.” Jack looked away towards the horses before turning back. “I was meaning to ask you... if you were interested in my line of work at all?”

Billy only laughed in response.

“It’s not the most glamorous of jobs, I’ll give you that, but it’s better than doing cattle drives for other people. You might be good at catchin’ these villains.”

“Catching? Thought the point was to kill them. Dead or alive usually just means dead.”

Jack sighed.

“Why’re you so eager to get more competitors in your territory in any case?” Billy asked, finally stepping back from the fire to admire his handiwork, before putting a pot of morning coffee on.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a partnership. I do well enough on my own, but everyone needs a backup now and then. And it gets lonely out on the trail.”

Billy laughed. “Nah, you and I? We ain’t got anything in common. I never wanted to kill people as a profession.”

“Well, I know we’ve got an interest in the same type of night entertainment at least,” Jack muttered under his breath.

Billy stopped himself short when he caught himself imagining that kind of life. It was insane to even consider it.

“You don’t think Lander & Butcher has a certain ring to it?” Jack asked, smiling, unwrapping himself from the blanket and moving closer to the fire, stretching out his hands towards the flames. “We could bring some real frontier justice to these parts.”

[ladytauria]

okay to balance it out

fluff 27) “why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

picturing JayTim maybe Tim tried to be sexy and spice/romantic and tried to decorate himself or the bedroom? and messed up

i love this sm <3

it took me a couple days to get the writing juices flowing, but once they did i managed to get this out in an afternoon xD

ofc, my internet went out right as i was finishing it up. luckily i wrote it on mobile. signal may not be the best here but i can still get it posted :D

read it on AO3

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

Shit. Tim was hoping to have it all cleaned up by now.

“Long story, don’t ask,” Tim calls, smoothing a comforter over the freshly made bed. He thinks he’s gotten most of it out of the bedroom—that and the en suite were the worst areas, but the living room took a pretty big hit as well.

“Okay, but you know I gotta ask, baby bird,” Jason says, appearing in their doorway. He’s lost his boots and gloves, but he’s still wearing his jacket and his hair is still mussed from his helmet.

Tim pouts at him, but it’s hard to feign irritation when there’s a smile tugging at Jason’s lips; eyes crinkling in the corners. He’s unfairly cute.

“Don’t give me that,” Jason says with a laugh, crossing the room to pull Tim against his chest. “Bed looks nice. Hurricane sparkles hit here too, huh?”

Tim can hardly help melting against him. He’s always so unfairly warm. (Jason says the same thing about him. ‘Then again, princess, if you’d eat more, maybe you’d have something to hold it in—‘) “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m still traumatized.”

Jason snickers. “Traumatized, huh?”

“Mhm.” Tim twists in his arms, pressing their chests together and winding his arms around Jason’s neck. He plays with the strands there. “Be a good boyfriend and comfort me.”

That gets him another laugh—each one makes a little more warmth pool in Tim’s chest. Jason kisses him softly, sweetly; turning that pool into an ocean. Tim sighs into it, a little weak in the knees despite how brief it ends up being. Jason just has that effect on him.

He brushes their noses together. “C’mon, pretty bird,” Jason murmurs. “I’m gonna die of curiosity.”

Tim heaves a sigh far more put-upon than he actually feels, and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Well, we can’t have that. I just got used to you.”

Jason’s brows raise; a grin on his face. “Only just? It’s been over a year, babe.”

Tim shrugs. “I’m very resistant to change,” he says. “But you wanted to know about the glitter.”

“Please.”

“Alright. It’s Steph’s fault.”

Jason snorts.

“No, really!” Tim says, doing his best not to grin himself. “You remember when she and I went clubbing, right?”

“Three nights ago, yeah.”

“Right. Well. At one of them, there was a lot of body glitter. Like—a lot. And—I dunno. It was kinda hot? Which was unfair. I mean, I don’t look that good when I wear it. Which I told Steph, and she said she doubted you’d agree with that. And I kept thinking about it. I mean. It sounded kind of fun, to dress up like that. Different, definitely.

“Except, uh. Things did not go as planned, and I made a big mess instead. Oops?”

Jason doesn’t laugh like Tim thought he would. Instead his head tilts, almost thoughtfully. “You know,” he says. “I’ve got pretty steady hands.”

Tim takes a second to process. “I— Are you offering to apply it for me?” His mouth is suddenly dry, imagining himself under those strong, talented, and yes, steady, hands as they paint patterns of glitter on his skin.

Jason’s hands curl around his hips, thumbs stroking the sharp points of them. “We’re going to be finding glitter for months anyway,” he says, voice dropping, the deep baritone rumbling through his bones. “Might as well get some fun out of it.”

Tim shivers. “Have I ever told you you’re brilliant?” he asks, tightening his grip on Jason’s shoulders and feeling him tense in preparation. He jumps; legs locking around his waist while Jason’s hands grip his ass.

“Mm—not recently.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Tim promises, and kisses the place where his jaw meets his ear, relishing the soft noise that gets him. “Glitter’s in the bathroom.”

He’d buy Steph a thank-you card later. A very sparkly one.

[peonierose]

Wildflower

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Keiki Lahela (F!MC) x Koa Haulani (M!OC)

Words: 4,000+

Rating: Teen. A few curse words.

Summary: Keiki who still struggles with trusting guys and entering a new relationship after Dylan broke her heart, meets someone new. Will she give Koa a chance or will she let her fear of getting hurt win and therefore miss out on a great connection with Koa?

A/N: This is my submission for @springfeverpitch Thank you for giving us the chance to write amazing stories. So my base is 1st base. My word is lipgloss (it will be in color) and my sentence is "I thought you might like (blank), so I brought you some."

Sidenote: Thank you to these wonderful ladies without whom my story would’ve never be finished @annieruok94 💚 @txemrn 💚@socalwriterbee 💚 Thanks so much 💚

Two months ago…

Keiki

I was standing in front of a big oval mirror, putting on some lip gloss. The tube says coral crush. It’s my favorite.

My best friend Alexis, or Lexi for short, and I got ready at her place for a college party at the boy's fraternity house.

It’s the last party to ring in the semester finals.

Apparently there’s going to be plenty of hot guys and

»You should let go and get a groove on«

Lexis' words, not mine.

I chose a black satin halter-neck dress with a soft flaring skirt. It ended at the knees. I paired my dress with my favorite heeled ankle boots with pearl studs.

Making me a bit taller than my 5‘5 feet.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this carefree and good. If my brother could see me now in my dress, I smiled.

Luna would just tell him to let me have fun, and he’d shake his head and yell ”Have fun, but please don’t get pregnant. I’m not ready to become an uncle yet.“

I love my brother, and now that we’ve repaired our relationship? He’s my rock. Any time I need advice, I can go to him.

I learned to trust him again and to forgave him, though we did come a long way to trusting each other once more.

It’s like Bryce said, ”Holding on to the past is painful. You should learn how to let go of the pain.“

I smiled at that. Because he’s right. Not that I’m going to tell him that. My brother's ego is already big enough, no need to inflate it even more.

I looked around Lexi's room for my little black and white striped purse. When I saw it, I took it and walked down the stairs, where Lexi was waiting for me.

”Looking good, Keiks.“ Lexi winks.

I rolled my eyes at her, and she laughed, snorted at the end.

She grinned at me and grabbed her car keys. When we’re inside the car, I wanted to put on a Britney Spears song.

But her next words stopped me.

”No Britney Spears songs. Last time we rode in the car together, you and Luna were singing Britney songs all the damn time. Please, no more Britney.“

I gasped.

”Really? I thought you liked her songs?“

”I lied. I didn’t want to say anything. Because you were having so much fun. But after listening to so many of her songs, I’ve gotta say it’s a no for me.“

I shook my head and grinned as I put on Shake it off by Taylor Swift.

Alexis laughed.

”That’s a song I approve of. This is why we’re best friends.“

I shook my head laughing.

The soft, salty breeze wafted through our hair and through the open sunroof of Lexi’s purple Jeep.

I lifted my hands up in the air as Alexis and I sang along to Taylor Swift's song – Shake it off.

A short drive later, we arrived at the party.

Alexis put the Jeep in park, turned off the ignition, and we got out.

Once outside, I stared at this huge beige painted house that sat on a freshly manicured lawn, surrounded by palm trees and hibiscus bushes. Making the night smell like a flower garden.

Several cars are already parked outside. People are milling on the lawn, drinking and laughing, when we arrived.

Looks like there wasn’t enough space to fit everyone.

Alexis and I exchanged a look and then just shrugged as we walked towards the entrance and almost got run over by a group of girls in neon bikinis.

Lexi and jumped out of the way.

So, this is what mayhem in the form of a college party looks like.

”Damn. Not what I expected.“ Lexi whistled.

I grinned as we got inside and saw people dancing everywhere on a makeshift dance floor.

One guy tried to grab my ass a mere second ago. I pushed his hand away. What a jerk.

If I wanted to be touched, I don’t want it to be some drunk person. Who won’t even remember tonight and is just trying to score.

”Lexi! Keiki!“ A redhead squealed. It’s Maren. She’s super nice. We've all hung out before. She’s followed by Trina, Malia and Ailani.

”So glad you guys came. It would’ve been a snooze fest without you.“

She gave me and Lexi a hug and then dragged us deeper into the crowd.

Lexi points to the stage where they’re setting up a karaoke station.

”Oh my god. A karaoke station! I’ll go and sign us up.“

I sighed and can’t even get a word out.

Maren and the others grin.

”Looks like it’s going to be karaoke night later,“ she grinned at all of us.

Lexi came back, grinning widely. Not revealing what song she chose. Making my nerves flutter in anticipation.

When it’s time for us to sing, my knees shook a little because I’m really not into big crowds. I never was.

A mic turned on and a tall guy with long black hair grinned at all of us. His blue eyes sparkled with joy.

”Alright. Alright. Looks like we’ve got our first round of beautiful ladies ready to sing a song. So, what are you going to serenade us with?“

He grinned at Lexi who winked at him.

”Shoutout to my Ex by Little Mix,“ she said.

”We’re singing what?“ I whispered loudly next to Lexi.

”Just relax. It’s a good song. Try to have a good time.“

”Lexi, I’m serious. Of all the songs you could’ve picked…“ I spluttered.

”Trust me Keiks, you need this cathartic moment.“ Lexi grinned softly at me.

My friends gave me an encouraging smile and nod. And some of my nerves settled a little.

As the first tunes came on I needed a second to get into the song, but once I did, all nerves just fell away, and I actually enjoyed myself together with my friends.

Koa

Frat parties aren’t really my scene. I prefer smaller gatherings to large ones.

I came because friends of mine tried to get me out of my funk.

Not only that, but I’ve been tired and restless lately, so they begged me to come to this party.

As my best friend Keanu pointed out earlier this morning

»Dude. Get out of your house. Stop studying. And just let loose, you need to get laid man.«

Subtle as always.

I chuckled to myself. I’m glad I have him by my side. He always knows when to kick my ass and get me out of my bubble.

So, here I am. At a party that’s already in full swing.

I squeezed all my 6‘2 feet through the crowd. As I tried to find some space where I can actually move around and not get elbowed in the ribs all the damn time.

As I get further into the crowd, I can see there’s a stage where some girls are singing karaoke.

About to walk away, I noticed one of the girls singing.

That dress! Flowing like a river and hugging all the right places.

Her brown hair flings back and forth as she’s singing a song by Little Mix?

My sister loves that band, that's how I even know the song.

I keep walking up to the front, so I’m closer to the stage. To have an unobstructed view of the girl who’s singing.

»I swear you'll never bring me down«

»Shout out to my ex, you're really« quite the man«

»You made my heart break and that made me who I am«

»Here's to my ex, hey, look at me now«

»Well, I'm I'm all the way up«

»I swear you'll never, you'll never bring me down«

The other girls are hugging each other as they sing what seem to be the last lines.

I don’t even notice the other girls. It’s as if they faded into the background.

Because I only have eyes for the brunette.

Who is she? And how come I haven’t seen her before on campus? Maybe because I live off-campus?

There’s something underneath that radiant smile of hers that is pulling me in.

Perhaps it’s the sadness with the last notes. It’s as if her brown eyes are saying, please don’t hurt my heart.

Because I can tell that this song means a lot more to her than to the other girls on stage.

I ask myself who hurt her like that? As if my heart pulls me closer to her only to say »You’re safe with me.«

Pulled out of my thoughts by my best friend's voice.

”So that was a good start. Thank you to Lexi, Keiki, Trina, Malia and Ailani for this wonderful performance. So, who’s up next?“ Keanu said, his brown eyes sparkled, and he pushed his black hair out of his face.

I grinned when I saw my best friend on stage.

He pointed to each girl on stage. Then he pointed to the girl I was looking at.

Keiki. The name rolled off my tongue. It’s a beautiful name and it fits her.

I smiles as I made my way through the crowd. I really needed to find an opportunity to ask her out. Even if it’s just to dance tonight. I know I’ll regret it if I don’t.

If life has taught me anything? It’s to take chances. Even if it doesn’t work out the way you wanted it to. At least you can say you gave it your all.

Keiki

I got off-stage, and I knew I look med like a sweaty mess. I'm so thirsty, I knew I would rather not touch the alcohol they had to offer. I’m in need of water.

”I’m going to get me some water. You want some?“

Lexi shook her head.

”I’m good.“

”Alright. I’ll be right back.“

I navigated myself through the crowd as I tried to locate the kitchen in this giant house. It’s more like a maze than a house.

Meanwhile, I moved around drunk people, which is a sport in and of itself.

When I got to the kitchen, I push med the white wooden door open. Thankfully, there’s no one in here.

When I shut the door to the kitchen, the noise of the party was a little muted. Which gave me time to catch my breath.

I’m about to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, when I heard the door opened again.

I turned around and did a double take when I saw the guy who walked in.

Cold air from the fridge blasted onto my face, as I’m holding on to the fridge door.

The water bottle I grabbed almost slipped out of my hands.

Where the hell did this guy come from? I haven’t seen him around. I had to look up, since he’s at least 6‘2 feet tall.

I swear, he looks like a real version of Ken.

Blond hair, bright sea green eyes, chiseled jaw.

He wore ripped jeans and a stark white shirt that stood out on his tan skin.

While I still stood there like an idiot. Unmoving. Mouth wide open and stared at him, like I’ve never seen a guy before, I try to mentally slap myself and to get out of my funk.

”Hi.“ He said as he walked closer.

Up close, his eyes looked as colorful as the green Severum fish. The rich green hue of the fish reminded me of this guy's eyes.

We’ve had a whole chapter on fish close to the end of the semester, so that’s why it’s so fresh in my mind.

”Hey.“ I waved nervously. Trying to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.

Can you say first awkward conversation? Get it together, Keiki. You’ve seen guys before.

But holy shit, none of them are like him.

”Did you try to escape the crowd too?“

I grinned, licking my lips.

”That obvious?“ I played with a strand of my hair. A nervous habit of mine. I’m usually not like one of those giggly girls, but for some reason he brings that out in me.

He walked over and reached around me to grab a water bottle from the still open fridge, his arm slightly brushed against my shoulder.

I got goosebumps all over my body, not just because of the cold air but because of skin on skin contact.

His cologne wafted towards me. Reminding me of the fresh and clean ocean.

He took a water bottle for himself and closed the fridge with a snap, making me pay attention to his next words.

”It’s not that. I wondered why a gorgeous girl like you would hide in here.“

I scoffed.

”I’m not hiding. I was getting some water for myself.“

”Sure.“

He nodded slowly and took a sip of his water.

Damn. Why does everything he does look sexy? Why can’t he be unattractive? It’d be easier not to like him.

He grinned as if he caught me staring at him. I blushed and looked away.

”I’m Koa by the way.“

”I’m Keiki.“

”Yeah, I saw you on stage. Great voice.“

”Oh…thank you. I was so nervous, but eventually, I had a lot of fun.“

I grinned at him, and he grinned back, two dimples showing in his cheeks.

Oh my god! I love dimples. I can’t stop looking at him. Feeling a magical pull.

But I tried to be careful, I didn’t want to fall for a pretty face. Only to get hurt again.

My spine stiffened and I leaned on the kitchen counter next to the fridge.

Hopefully, he didn’t notice anything about my posture changing.

The water bottle, half drunk, dangled from his fingertips.

”Do we have some classes together?“

He asked me and I thought back to my schedule. But I can't think of any classes I shared with Koa. I shook my head.

”I don’t think so. What’s your major?“ I asked.

”Marine biology.“

”Ah got it. That’s why our paths haven’t crossed. I’m studying to become a vet.“

He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

”No way! Damn that’s cool. But it’s a lot right?“

I nodded and laughed.

”It’s okay. The first semester was tough. Although I’m actually ahead of my reading schedule. And its fun. My brother is a surgeon. Becoming a vet felt more like my calling.“

He smiled softly, and it transformed his whole face from a pretty boy to a gorgeous guy.

I’m left speechless for a few seconds.

I smiled slowly and Koa grinned back.

”Smart and beautiful. Dangerous combo.“

My smile faded.

”If you’re trying to score, try again.“

His grin fell.

Oh, shit. I shouldn’t have said that. As I’m trying to scramble for another reply, his next words hit me.

”I was serious. I don’t give out compliments if I don't mean them.“

I raised my eyebrows.

”I…wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. It’s just… I’ve…“

He moved closer, making me want to move away. But I’m not able to escape his eyes. Which are full of understanding.

”No need to explain. I get it. When you’re ready, you can tell me. I can wait.“

”When?“

”You didn’t think I’d not ask you out, did you?“

”I could’ve said no. I just met you.“

He grinned.

”Something tells me you’re far too curious not to at least see if you like me.“

”Hmm. You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?“

”I don’t think I’ve got you figured out at all. I don’t judge or assume something about others. I let time be the judge. People sometimes need time before they’re ready to share certain things, and that’s okay.“

A slow smile spread on my face, but I tried to tone it down.

”Let that smile spread. I’d love to see it.“

I grinned.

”There it is. You shouldn’t be scared to let others see it.“

My stomach took this moment to grumble loudly.

Koa laughed.

”Looks like someone is hungry.“

I turned beet red.

”Yeah. I…uh…forgot to eat earlier…“

He shook his head.

”We can’t have that. Let’s see what this kitchen has to offer. Unless the guys have eaten everything. Which wouldn’t surprise me.“

”Do you live here?“

”Would you judge me if I said yes?“

He turned his head and grinned at me.

”I wouldn’t. I was just curious.“ I said defensively.

”Relax. I’m just messing with you, Keiki. My best friend Keanu lives here. I live off-campus. I visit him from time to time here. But he usually hangs out at my place.“

”What about you?“

”I live off-campus too. I live with my brother and his fiancé.“

I took off my heels and hopped on the counter. My feet dangled in the air.

”Sounds good. And you save money by not having to pay for your own place.“

He opened the cupboards and got out a couple of bags and put them on the counter.

”Looks like I found our dinner. We have a fine selection of chips. Sour cream and onion, bacon. And salt and vinegar. And my personal favorite, Hawaiian Hurricane popcorn.“

I looked at him and when I saw the colorful bag, I almost sighed. It’s my favorite snack.

”You’re kidding? I love Hawaiian Hurricane popcorn. I always add…“

”…spicy cheese dip.“

We said at the same time and then laughed.

”Oh my god, I thought I was the only one who eats it this way. Can we check if there’s any?“

”Way ahead of you,“ he said.

He stepped closer to me until his jeans grazed against my bare legs. Making me shiver.

He handed me a jar of spicy cheese dip.

”God, I haven’t eaten this in a while.“ I sighed in bliss.

”I used to eat this so much my parents had to hide it from me.“

”My brother who eats his gross oatmeal tells me how Hurricane popcorn and spicy cheese dip is gross?“

I grinned as I dipped my popcorn into the cheese.

He stopped eating for a second to stare at me.

”You’re mocking oatmeal? Oatmeal is actually good for you.“

When I just stared at him.

”To each their own.“ He winked at me.

”Good answer.“

We kept eating popcorn until the whole bag is empty.

”Damn that was good.“ He said and I nodded. Licking my lips.

My lip gloss is completely gone by the time we’re finished.

His eyes wandered to my lips. And I felt my heart racing in my chest. My breath caught in my throat.

He moved closer until he’s only inches away from my lips. I can feel his breath on mine.

”You’ve got something right here…“

He wiped away some cheese dip from the corner of my mouth and licked it away.

”Thanks,“ my voice came out breathless.

”You’re welcome.“ His voice is deeper than before.

He brushed a strand of my hair and put it behind my left ear.

I don’t know who leaned in first, but I gripped him by his shirt collar to pull him closer to me.

He put his hands on my legs, leaning towards me.

At first, it was a feather-light touch of our lips.

His lips are soft and warm against mine. He tasted faintly of salt and cheese from the Hurricane popcorn.

I pushed my hand through his soft hair, pulling him closer.

As he let his hand wander to my neck. Cradling it. Deepening the kiss in turn.

We were both reaching for each other. Wanting more. I’ve never felt this way before.

Needing him like my next gulp of water.

We both break apart for what seems like hours.

We both breathed heavier and just tried to gather our thoughts.

When the silence stretched on for too long, he put both of his hands on my cheek and gave me a soft kiss on my temple.

Feeling a warmth spread through my stomach. A sensation I haven’t encountered yet. It’s as if I’m coming home.

And that’s when the panic settled in.

As if he felt it, he put a finger on my still swollen lips.

”You don’t have to say anything.“

I kept staring at him.

”We’ll figure out what we feel when we’re ready.“

I nodded at him. Not able to utter a word about what just happened.

Suddenly, the door opened and both Koa and I jumped at the sound. Making me grip his bicep.

When I saw it’s Lexi, I breathed out.

I thought it might be a drunk person mistaking the kitchen for the bathroom.

I hopped off from the counter as Lexi came inside. She saw me and Koa still close together.

Me, still gripping his bicep, blushing furiously. I let my hand fall.

A big grin spread across Lexi’s face.

”Oops, looks like I’ve interrupted you guys.“

Koa and I stared everywhere, just not at each other. Too caught up in what happened mere seconds ago.

Alexis broke the silence.

”I’m Alexis. Keiki‘s best friend. We come as a package deal.“

Koa chuckled, totally caught off guard.

”Nice to meet you. I’m Koa.“

He winces. Lexi must’ve tightened her grip. I shook my head, not able to hide my grin.

”Just to tell you. If you hurt Keiki. I’ll hurt you where it really hurts,“ she smiled sweetly.

Koa coughed.

”Alright. But I think Keiki can take care of herself. She seems like a strong girl.“ He said with a strong sense of confidence.

Both Alexis and I raised our eyebrows. Alexis slowly grinned as she turns to me.

”I like him, Keiks. He’s not stupid. And he’s nice to look at. You’ve got that whole Ken vibe going.“

Koa turned to me, and I just shrugged, still not able to meet his gaze. So, I looked at a point over his shoulder.

”Hey, don’t look at me,“ I retorted. But then I gave in and looked at him.

He smiled and his aquamarine eyes danced with delight.

He’s about to leave, but then turned back and got out his phone.

”Mind if we swap phone numbers?“

Alexis put her arm around my shoulders.

”Of course she doesn’t mind.“ I elbowed her and she laughed.

”What she said. I don’t mind.“

I untangled myself from Alexis and Koa and I exchanged numbers.

He grinned and he’s out the door.

When he’s gone. I turned to Lexi and we both squealed and danced around.

When the door opens again, we turned around only to see Koa who grabbed his water bottle next to the fridge.

”Forgot this. Nice dance moves, by the way, Keiki.“ He winked at me.

Alexis and I pressed our lips together. When he’s gone again we sat down on the kitchen floor and I leaned my head on Lexi’s shoulder.

”Oh my god. See? I told you that you‘d meet a hot guy. You should listen to me more often.“

”Yeah. You were. I won’t make a habit out of telling you that you were right. Otherwise, your ego will get ginormous.“

Lexi laughed and pulled her knees closer together. I put my hand around her knees and she squeezed my hand.

”According to my sister and brother, my ego is already big enough. But thanks, I appreciate hearing I helped you out. And who knows, maybe you can thank me at your wedding for bringing you two together.“

I snorted.

”Let’s not jump ahead. Koa and I just met. I don’t want to plan so far ahead.“

She turned her head and looked at me as if she picked up on something in my voice.

”What’s wrong Kei? Are you scared?“

I put my hand against my stomach, leaned against the cupboard and hugged my knees.

Not wanting to admit that, the way Dylan ended our relationship over a text, still haunts me.

The pain lessened. But all the memories, kisses and hugs we shared? Yeah, it’s still there and sneaks up on me from time to time.

I try not to think too much about Dylan. I’ve moved on. Though, I’ve been hesitant to go out with anyone.

It’s been over two years since I moved to Honolulu with my brother and his fiancé, Luna.

I’ve gotten better, being surrounded by family. But every time I meet a guy I actually like? I get scared he’ll hurt me like Dylan did.

So, that’s why I’m so hesitant to let anyone in. However I want to try to be more open-minded to new relationships.

From what I’ve seen so far, Koa seems really nice. And his kisses are fantastic.

Alexis bumps my shoulder, making me come out of my thoughts.

”Look! Just try to get to know him. Koa is a nice guy. I’ve heard good things about him. And if there’s no connection, then you’ll find someone even better.“

”What would I do without you?“ I said.

Alexis winked at me as she got up and offered me her hand.

”You’d make bad fashion choices.“

I grabbed her hand and stood up.

”Excuse you? I have an excellent fashion sense. Thank you very much.“

She put her head to the side, and together we walked outside the kitchen and joined our friends.

Singing and dancing the night away.

Koa

I’m still in a daze over the kiss with Keiki. Damn, I’m screwed. It’s as if we were trying to brand each other with our kisses.

Not that I’m complaining. I will never forget the way she tasted. And I know I won’t be able to get her out of my mind.

Before walking out of the house, I looked around for my phone and then I cursed. I must’ve left it in the kitchen. As I entered the kitchen, a slow grin spread across my face.

I looked at the counter and saw my phone sitting next to the fridge. I rolled my eyes at my stupidity. Someone could’ve walked in and taken it.

Before I left the kitchen, a little coral orange tube caught my eye.

When I moved closer I could see it’s a tube of lip gloss. I turned the lip gloss around and the back said »Coral Crush«

I grinned and without having to guess, I know it belongs to Keiki. I put it into the back of my jeans pocket.

I’m going to give it back to her when we see each other next time.

Hoping against hope she’ll give me a chance to show her that whoever hurt her the way he did, I’m not him.

I walked out of the house with a lighter spring in my steps.

When I looked up I saw the stars glistened in the midnight sky, and the scent of the hibiscus bushes made me smile.

I’m damn happy to have met Keiki, I have this strange feeling that I’m in for a couple of surprises. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A week later

Keiki

”Keiks? There’s a package for you,“ my brother said when he entered the kitchen.

I looked up from my phone.

”Thanks.“

I took it from him and when I opened it a small letter fluttered out, together with a tube of lip gloss.

I smiled as I saw my favorite lip gloss on the table.

I took the letter and read it, just to see who got me my favorite lip gloss.

Because I looked everywhere, but I must’ve lost it at the party.

Keiki,

you lost your lip gloss at the party. But since it was almost empty, I thought you might like a new tube of Coral Crush, so I brought you some.

Koa

I finish reading the letter and smile to myself. He spells trouble. But never did I want to be more in trouble than with Koa.

[hotxcheeto]

━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Jinx x G/N!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing? A lot of fluff

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - An idea I had like a month ago

☆ 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - Jinx was bored and you were working, so instead of bothering you like usual, she tries a new way of keeping herself busy. And it seems to work, almost too well.

Jinx wouldn't like when you worked for long periods of time, no it drove her crazy actually. Literally and figuratively.

So each time you did, she'd find a way to linger about, talking your ear off or coloring beside you. Claiming it was just as important as your papers for Silco and you were inclined to agree.

You kept each one in your tiny little office room as well, she'd hang them up herself and show you proudly.

But some days those things weren't enough. And she'd still be bored. Complaining and poking at you, but you never got mad.

"Trinket!" Came a sing-songy voice tearing you from your paperwork but you didn't turn around, scribbling something down as the sound of chunky boots waltzed up and behind you.

"Whatcha' doin'?" Her arms wrapped around your neck, nails tickling your bare upper arms and over the black ink decorating your flesh. "Working, Jinx." "Boring. We should go somewhere or cuddle or.." "I can't right now bug." You looked up at her, the girl huffing in disappointment, blowing a piece of her blue hair.

"Can't you just skip it?" "It's for Silco, Jinx. Unless you want me dead?" She scoffed at that, pushing herself onto your lap while you dodged messing up the paper while she got comfortable.

"I won't let him." "I like your attitude bug..." She leaned down kissing the corner of your mouth while you smiled. "..but I gotta finish these. I'm almost done." She groaned much louder this time, looking at you continuing to write the report.

She thought about snatching the pen away from you and throwing it.

Though Jinx laughed at that, out loud in fact, gathering your attention to her as you raised an eyebrow.

She muttered a few things, gaining yet another glance at her but she was off in her own world. It wasn't unusual that she was, but her eyes had cemented themselves on your tattooed arms, tracing the lines with her pink nail.

Until then an idea popped into her head and she hurriedly moved to leave your side, much to your disappointment.

But it wasn't long until she returned but you'd gotten so sucked into your work you didn't feel it until her cold breath blew against your flesh, and it felt wet.

"Jinx?" You turned your head, seeing her blowing on a blue patch on your skin. It looked nice against your skin tone, Jinx's markers more like paint pens giving it the pop it needed to show up.

"Do you like it?" She asked, not giving you a chance to respond with your answer before she continued on with another color. Now noticing the clutch she had on a group of them in her other hand.

"Yeah.." You muttered watching her continue to fill in the tattoo with bright ink and pull away to admire her work. "It's cold though." You chuckled as she blew on it getting it to dry faster.

"You're gonna look great!" "Are you saying I don't look great now?" She looked at you almost offended before lazily gazing at your face, tilting her head in just the slightest.

"No. You always look great." She said, a bit quiet. "Thank you, as do you." You didn't noticed when you looked away, but she didn't take her eyes off of you after, not for a moment.

Then you felt her continue and you swore with every stroke of the marker you relaxed further.

Up and down, up and down. Then she began to trace another outline, going around the black edges with her color, filling it in at the end.

"What do you want to do when I'm done?" You asked into the thick quiet air, only to be met with udder silence in response. "Bug?" You used her loved nickname, her favorite besides just one other.

"Jinx?"

You turned your head but she hadn't heard a word, tongue between her teeth and brows furrowed in concentration while focusing on the uphill of your shoulder where the tattoo ended.

You opened your mouth to speak again but decided against it, instead smiling, turning back to your papers.

"We'll figure something out."

[crowborn666-writes]

Painting

(Been thinkin’ about it and decided I need to do the read more tag more often, whether or not if my fics seem short to me, they may seem long to someone else!)

Dabi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Platonic/Romantic

Summary: (takes place before Dabi joins the LoV!) Dabi doesn’t understand what you mean when you first explain “art has meaning” to him. Not until you paint something that reminds him a bit of himself.

~~~~~~

Blues and whites were carefully spread across the canvas in front of you, spots and splotches of paint decorating your skin as you blended color and shape together as one.

It was quiet, gentle rain pitter-pattering down outside as you worked. You didn’t need to glance behind you at the creak of your open window, you already recognized the sound of boots hitting your hardwood floor, muffled by the towel you do thoughtfully set out for him.

Dabi let out a huff as he was finally out of the cold rain, shrugging off his jacket to leave on the windowsill and shedding his bots onto the towel before making his way to you.

“So, what’re you painting today?”

You smiled up at him over your shoulder, enjoying the momentary scowl on his face when he realize what you were going to say.

“What do you think I’m painting?”

“Ughhh, you know I hate that! Quit askin’ me that question!”

You laughed, remembering the first few times you’d welcomed Dabi into your home. You hadn’t yet known about his evil deeds, not that he would tell you anytime soon either, but nonetheless, the future supervillain let you tend to his scuffs and scraps and allowed himself to be kept out of the rain.

From that first meeting if your overly kind gestures, you’d welcomed him every time he came by, getting to know each other more and more. One day, he asked about the paintings you’d hung up on your walls, and the ones he found half-finished on your canvases.

You’d told him that each piece had a meaning, and yet he couldn’t understand it. You told him art was made to make you feel something, but he didn’t understand that either.

You glanced back to the painting in front of you, the main piece was done, so now you were just filling in the rest of the canvas with a deep shade of blue, while lighter blues and white mixed together in jagged arcs.

“How am I supposed to know what you’re painting? You’re still working on it anyways.” Dabi huffed again, grabbing a nearby stool to sit next to you and plop his chin in his palm.

“Well, the centerpiece is done,” you explained softly, dipping your brush into the deep navy again, “I’m just working on the outside right now. What do you see in the middle?”

Another huff, mixed with a slight frustrated groan, and the quiet settled as you felt Dabi’s gaze floating past your shoulder to your canvas.

You felt Dabi shift slightly, a glance back showing him deep in thought, genuinely turning your question over and over in his mind.

“Blue fire.” He said finally, “A bit like my quirk.”

For emphasis, he held out his marred hand, a small wisp of blue flame sprouting from his fingertip for a moment.

You hummed, glancing over the painting in front of you. “I can see that. It wasn’t what I intentionally painted, but I can see the fire your seeing.”

“What did you intentionally paint?”

“A blue flower.” You replied, sitting back from the now finished background of the painting. “It’s something simple, but to the right person, it can mean something.”

With that you set your palette and brush aside, getting off your stool and stretching. With a pleased groan at the pops in your joints, you let out a breath as you turned to Dabi.

“I gotta use the bathroom real quick, and then I’ll make us lunch!”

Dabi’s eyes didn’t leave the painting as you left the room, his mind a bit scrambled as it processed what you told him.

At first, he saw a blue flame, something like his quirk, something that consumed and burned and hurt. Painful. Dangerous.

But then you told him it was meant to be a flower. Something that was delicate, beautiful, and dare he say fragile.

Now his mind was seeing both, the deep blue background helping the centerpiece stand out, the bright colors popping from the canvas. The flower look to be ablaze, something that would be crumbling under the heat of blue flames, but still standing strong.

He knew it was foolish, but he wondered if you’d end up being like that flower, standing strong even when his darkest secrets were laid out bare to you. His hellfire sins cradled and held by the delicate petals of your hospitality and care for him.

“Dabi! What do you want for lunch?”

He jumped from his thoughts, taking a shaky breath to steady himself before standing to slowly follow your voice to the kitchen. “…How about soba?”

[jungle-angel]

Could I please get a number 11 and 15 from the Christmas prompt list ? Thank you!

💛

Oh this is gonna be really funny, especially if it's with Rhett Abbott (lol).

You had spent the entire day decorating the house and Rhett had been out most of the morning with little Hannah practically attached to his hip. "Christmas Vacation", one of Royal and Rhett's favorite movies, was playing on the TV in the living room while Cecelia was in the kitchen making her gingerbread cookies for Sister Joan and the other nuns down at the church.

Rhett came through the front door a moment later, stamping his boots off at the door and little Hannah on his hip, all bundled up in her pink and white coat and her tiny little ugg boots and purple earmuffs, shaking from the cold outside and her cheeks beginning to turn red.

"Oh holy shit, it's really fuckin coooooold out!!" Rhett sang loudly, completely off key as he helped Hannah off with her snow gear.

"Hey don't you ruin that song for me Rhett James," Cecelia ordered. "And you'd better not sing that at church on Christmas Eve, otherwise I'll be makin ya'll sit in that pew and say a rosary ten times."

Rhett returned the order with a big, shit-eating grin and an evil little chuckle as he lifted the little ghoul from off the floor and back onto his hip before placing her on the kitchen counter. "Can I sing something else?" he asked.

"Please, anything but that," Cecelia answered as she began sprinkling nutmeg into the bowl.

Rhett went to the fridge to get Hannah a juice box, singing just loud enough for both you and her to hear.

A snort escaped your nostrils, your hand quickly clamping over your mouth to keep the laugh from escaping when you heard Rhett singing "Deck my Balls" by Afroman. The next thing you heard was a dish towel snap against something, a male yelping and a tiny little girl giggling like crazy.

"GET. OUT. OF. MY. KITCHEN!!!!" Cecelia exclaimed as she let the dishtowel fly, the end of it landing straight on Rhett's ass before he came skidding into the living room, laughing up a storm.

"Need I remind you that there are little ears present in this house, Rhett?" you reminded him as you finished putting up the last of the tiny little Christmas gnomes you and your students had made the week before.

"C'mon, it's nothin compared to what Perry and I heard at her age," Rhett answered. "Ya'll should've heard my grandfather, salty as hell Vietnam vet with a mouth on him that would've had Gale Burch throwing holy water everywhere."

You snickered a little at the thought of Royal's father encountering Gale Burch, the snobby church lady who was the bane of Cecelia Abbott's existence and possibly the bane of the entire St. Michael's Parish. The week before when you and Cece had gone to help set up the church for Christmas, you had caught Father O'Keefe mimicking her high pitched, screechy voice and had a good laugh about it.

"Even still, Rhett."

Rhett smiled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he helped you get the living room ready. "By the way," you said. "There's an early surprise for you in your stocking when you get to it."

Rhett went to the fireplace where his had been hung, a gift from his grandparents on his first Christmas. He reached in and pulled out something small and square in the red paper you used every year. Carefully he opened it and inside was a framed watercolor sketch you had done of your twin baby boys, Tatum and Tanner who had been brought home barely three days ago.

"Oh God, darlin it's beautiful," Rhett murmured, pulling you close to him. "I gotta hang it up next to Hannah's."

You two went up the knotty pine stairs and into the upstairs hall where the other family pictures hung on the wall, the one of Hannah as a newborn, sleeping in her crib, hanging next to Royal and Cecelia's wedding photo, were all hung like paintings in a museum. Carefully, Rhett hung up the framed picture, listening carefully for any signs that Tatum and Tanner were waking up.

"What do you think?" you asked him. "Best gift ever?"

"Yeah," Rhett said, kissing the tip of your nose. "But I still say you, Hannah and the boys are the best gift I've ever gotten."

You reveled in his warmth as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close as you saw your lives together in those pictures, grateful for every minute you two were able to spend together.

[sabraeal]

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 8

[Read on AO3]

“Don’t know what to say, sir.” The crew chief’s young enough that his knees don’t click when he levers up from the scaffolding, sandy hair made mussed and muddier still by the amount runnels his fingers have tracked through it. Youngest to ever make the grade, hand-picked by the Marshal himself-- though scuttlebutt had always painted that more as a punishment than a promotion, punitive action for a job too well done. “We’re still waiting on some of the diagnostics, and I’ve got some of my guys running over the wiring with a fine tooth comb, but I gotta say...”

It’s clear Shuuka’s never thought of it that way, not when he reaches out, giving Rex Tyrannis a chummy chuck on the chest plate. “There’s nothing wrong under hood here, far as I can tell.”

It’s difficult not to clench, not to let even the smallest nerve in his jaw jump, but if there’s one thing Mitsuhide knows how to do, it’s to pretend everything’s Situation Normal when it’s all Charlie Foxtrot. There’s a verve on the deck today, a current just beneath the skin of that scuffed up steel that puts a spring in every step clad in combat boots and coverall gray. The King’s out of his box, the air seems to buzz, and some big motherfuckers are gonna learn how to kneel. He’d hate to ruin it.

Shuuka’s palm presses flat against the plate, almost reverent, grease stains streaked so deep it’s hard to tell where skin ends and titanium begins. “Old girl’s fit as a fiddle for something two marks behind what’s rolling off the assembly line.”

Funny that he can place a man on this deck by just that: an old girl and smile. When the Marshal sat in the hot seat, no tech worth his tags would sling anything else but he’s and hims around the Tyrannis; there was just something about that edifice of titanium and tungsten and hubris was all male from the moment it rolled off the line. But a few years on the shelf and suddenly the memory of it goes soft; a monster made from miracles and mental turns into a spry she needing a little extra handhold to get past the finish line.

Kiki would have something to say about that, if she heard it. Probably several somethings, and all of them not fit for polite company. Not that there was much of it to go around here, but still-- most of these coveralls were a stone’s throw away from the academy. Didn’t need to demoralize them right out the gate.

“Good job, LT.” Kid must be holding a breath; a clap on his back knocks a hiccup right out of him. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do, sir,” Shuuka wheezes, rubbing at his shoulder. “Crazy stuff, isn’t it though? Whole deck would have been would have been FUBAR if Tyrannis let that charge go. Not to mention what would have happened to you all in Mission Control.”

Mitsuhide’s gone toe-to-toe with acid-spitting kaiju, with mountain-class monsters whose mouths have more in common with can openers than teeth, with actual hand-to-god nightmares from the deepest recesses of his childhood subconscious, and yet--

Yet none of them have thrown him from his bunk in a cold sweat, heart galloping a mile a minute behind the ragged cage of his ribs. Blue haunts the edges of his vision even now, waiting for him to close his eyes, to simply blink before it ambushes him, death painted on the back of his eyelids in scintillating detail. Even in his dreams, he’s only got one lifeline: some microphone smaller than his finger joint and the blind hope that there’s someone who can still hear him on the other side.

It’s the sort of thing that would land him on Shirayuki’s couch if he stopped to think too hard about it. Which he can’t; any second that siren could scream out and set them all scrambling to stations. His head’s hardly top priority when there’s more important parts needed in a rig.

A laugh rasps out of him, stilted even to his own ears. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t you worry, sir.” Shuuka hooks his hands around his hips, fingers painting gray streaks across even grayer coverall. “The whole crew’s real serious about getting to the bottom of it. A malfunction like that wouldn’t have been fun for any of us. ”

“Great.” That’s the sort of attitude he’d love to see if there were anything to get to the bottom of. Shuuka and his crew might be able work miracles on a mechanical failure, but they could do fuck all for a pilot one. Unless whatever’s wrong with Obi can be fixed with good old deckhand moonshine, which-- well, he’s heard of stranger things. “Glad to hear it.”

There’s a pause, a long one; a chasm filled up with speculation and secrets neither of them are at liberty to let loose. Instead, Shuuka just squints out over the floor, a strained concern stretching the corners of his smile as he asks, “Say, you think they’ll be sending anyone to take Tyrannis out for a drag anytime soon?”

It’s an innocuous question, just the sort the crew chief should be asking now that they’ve taken his baby out of its box-- there’s a difference between regular upkeep and active-duty maintenance, a world of it, enough to keep a kid up at night wondering whether his uncrossed T or his naked I will kill a man come morning-- but coming off a handshake as hot as that one...

Well, he wouldn’t be the first to park his fishing expedition on Mitsuhide’s pond today, that’s for sure.

“Can’t say anything for sure,” he tells him, face aching from the effort. “But if the Marshal says anything where I can hear it, I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

For as fast and high as Shuuka’s climbed the ladder these past few years, he’s not the sort to raise his voice-- hell, he’s not even one to frown. But the kid looks at him now, and there’s none of that happy-go-lucky left in him, just the hard evaluation of a man whose job is to find a nicked wire in rat’s nest.

“Just between you and me, sir?” he hums, voice pitched so low Mitsuhide can hardly make him out over the welders. “The old girl’s been up on the shelf for a while. She was built solid-- built to last, like all the Mark 3s, but--” a breath whistles through his teeth “--she was made to be used too.”

Mitsuhide keeps his posture casual as a he can bear it, being the officer on deck. Anything to make it look like they’re just shooting the shit, and not...whatever this is. “Something I should know about, LT?”

“It’s not anything to worry about.” Strange thing for a man to say when he’s checking his corners, stepping close enough for their arms to brush on the scaffolding. “Just...sometimes when the older ones sit on the shelf, it makes their suspension a little lose. Joints don’t quite move like they should. Parts aren’t always right where you expect them. Not like the newer chrome, you know?”

“Right.” He lets the word roll around in his mouth, fully tasting the flavor of it before he asks, “So what’s that mean for getting boots on the deck?”

His hands fly off the rail, waving off his worries. “Ah, nothing, nothing! Really, Rex is ready to take a walk the minute she’s off the leash. Fighting condition! It’s only...” Shuuka hesitates, casting him a long look from the corner of his eyes. “Something like that...sometimes it makes it harder for them to fight up close. Puts more kinks in the armor when they go hand-to-hand.”

Mitsuhide scrubs at the back of his undercut, stubble scraping at his palm. That’d be a death knell for a machine like their Redwood Dancer. But Rex Tyrannis... “Good thing Kain Wisteria designed that thing to dominate a battlefield, not dance on it, I guess.”

“Guess so,” Shuuka agrees, shoulders slumping over the rail. “A few days ago, I would have told you the girl’s better than new, but, sir-- I could have sworn we did every check on that plasmacaster the lot of us could come up, and still it nearly took out half the dome. I swear--” he lets out a huff of a laugh, almost fond “-- these older ones, it’s like they got a mind of their own. Or like they’re still haunted by the pilots, even after...ah, you know...”

Oh, there’s a lot Mitsuhide knows. He knows he’s never once stepped on stage, but if Shuuka ask him to chassé-sauté-pirouette right off this scaffolding right now, his body would remember how. He’s never once read Alice in Wonderland, but he can recite the Lobster Quadrille by heart. His hair has been military regulation since sixth grade, but he knows how it feels to have someone wrap their fingers through it at yank. “Don’t think it’s the jaegers that are haunted.”

Shuuka blinks up at him. “Sir?”

It’s not the sort of thing they talk about in the dome-- actively discourage, the Marshal would say with that smile of his, the one that never quite makes it to his eyes. It’s bad enough when one of them chase the rabbit in the pod, but to admit there’s something that lingers, that the ride doesn’t just stop when they hop out of the harness--

Well, the last thing people here need to think about is how thin a thread their lives are balanced on.

“Ah, sorry there LT.” He clasps him on the shoulder, smiling hard enough to make his molars creak. “Chasing the rabbit and I don’t even got my party clothes on. Hazard of the job, I guess.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, sir, you’ve been going more hours than you haven’t.” Shuuka sends him a skeptical squint. “When’s the last time you saw your rack?”

Truth is, the last few nights he hasn’t so much seen his bed as stumbled to it, so exhausted he was asleep before he hit the mattress. But that’s not the sort of answer a subordinate wants to hear when--

“You know, if you gotta think about it--” a smile rucks up one side of the chief’s mouth-- “it’s been too long.”

“Ah...” Mitsuhide scrubs a hand across his hairline. It comes away moist. “I guess I could do with a break.”

“Not much that eight hours and three square can’t fix, major.” This time it’s the kid who claps his shoulder, not enough to sting but enough that he steps out of his stupor, suddenly exhausted. He’d be embarrassed by how much if only Shuuka wasn’t smiling, the kind that said he’d seen it all before and he’d see it a hundred times before he finally set aside his kit and coveralls. “Go hit the showers.”

It’s not that Mitsuhide doesn’t appreciate the sentiment. If anything, it’s just the sort of wall poster positivity Zen accuses him of giving on the regular, still wiping sleep from his eyes as he grouses, there’s something deeply wrong with you. No one’s this chipper in the morning without coffee.

It’s just that in his experience, there’s a good number of things that food and sleep won’t fix no matter how much of it a body get. No three course meal is going to soften the blow of a kaiju, no full night’s sleep is going to take the edge off losing someone out in the drink. It can’t help how many miles he is from home, how long it’s been since he’s seen his mother’s face on more than just a grainy screen. It won’t change that every time she giggles out bisous at the end of their calls, it might be the last.

And it’s certainly not going to help whatever went down in that Conn-Pod. Nothing this commissary can whip up, at least.

Or so he thinks, right up until the shower spray hits his back, and every muscle there relaxes.

“Jesus.” He bows his neck, letting more of the water sluice down his spine. “Maybe I did need a break.”

“Good.” 

For one, blissful moment, he’s sure that voice is inside his head, that it’s just that small sliver of Kiki that’s worked deep under the nail bed of his brain until it’s impossible to tell where it begins and he ends. A nice thought, a sane one, but he knows: that voice wouldn’t have an echo.

Mitsuhide turns, not-- not all the way, but enough that the water splits over his shoulder, spraying down chest and back with equal fervor, and--

And she’s just standing there, blank tank clinging to her like a second skin, her coverall pushed to her hips with a thin strip of pale flesh peeking through the gap between. “It’s dinner time.”

And of course, the icing on this particular cake: she’s got his towel.

There’s no secrets in the drift, no fantasies that get to stay hidden in the shadowy corners of his mind, and so there’s no use pretending that this isn’t how half of his start: showers steaming and Kiki catching him in a corner, both of them getting wet, as--

Ah, no need to make this worse. It’s, er, already hard enough to hide what’s going on below his waist, let alone if he goes and makes an event out of it.

“Kiki,” he gasps, scrabbling at the lifeline she tosses him. Stupidly, of course; the water’s still going at the only pressure it knows-- full blast-- and by the time he’s got it tucked around his waist, the towel’s as soaked as he is. “What are you--?

“It’s dinner time,” she repeats, slow as the stare she drags up him, mouth hooking into a smirk. “You hungry?”

The knot slips at his hip; only those ranger reflexes keep him from flirting with disaster. “W-what?”

“I am.” Her arms fold right under her breasts, and it’s a struggle to keep his eyes from tracking the movement. “Zen is too.”

Mitsuhide blinks, the shift in tone leaving him stymied. “H-he is? He told you that?”

“No.” Annoyance flashes in her eyes, lightning from a distant storm. “But he needs to eat. Whether he wants to or not.”

Her hip cocks, both the angle of it and her brows daring him to chide her. 

“Kiki,” he sighs, fist clenching tighter in the cloth. “You know as well as I do that the only way out of a hangover like that is through. If he’s not ready... we can’t just brow beat him into being better.”

Kiki’s spent the better part of a decade proving to the boy’s club here that’s she’s one of them, that there’s no need to relegate her to the personnel head just to keep the dress on the door, or for some private shower to be set aside for her own use. That she can go to the mat with any one of them and end up on top without special treatment. That her blood, sweat, and tears was just as real any anyone’s.

But she lifts her chin, and with every imperious inch she proves she’s General Seiran’s daughter.

“Not--” the edge of each word clips to a point “--with that attitude.”

The Academy might only be nine months, three trimesters spread across twenty-four weeks total before they roll their shiny new recruits into the grinder, but it’s not all just simulations and bushido. No, before they’re even allowed a glimpse of the combat room, they have to go through the basics-- engineering, K-science, tactics. And there’s no learning all that without talking about the greats.

Kain and Abel Wisteria. Haruto Jiran, usually in the same breath. Duc and Kaori Jessop. Mason Arleon and Ren Haruka. Lo Hin Shen and Xichi Po. Lata Forzeno, before he up and disappeared from the program. And of course, no tactics course would be complete without discussing Luke Seiran.

Most Rangers made a name for themselves by bold maneuvers and suicidal risks, half of them going out in a blaze of glory before they could rack up more than three kills. But General Seiran did it by living, dodging acid sprays and chainsaw teeth until those lizards left a scaly side open, waiting to spring until victory was no longer an opportunity but a certainty. He’d kept that reputation as a marshal, only losing two rangers from his dome during his five year tenure, until they bumped him up to top brass.

There’d been speculation when his daughter joined up that she’d be much the same. Slow to speak and hard to rile, everyone had seen her father in her, and yet--

And yet, the knock at his door is all the warning Zen has before she drags him through it, locking his arms in a hold he’d need at least six inches and eighty more pounds to break. A fact Mitsuhide’s learned through hard-won experience. Even still, his shoulder doesn’t sit quite right.

“I already said,” Zen grunts as she steers him through the commissary doors, “I’m not hungry.”

“Shut up.” Kiki’s never had much need for eloquence when her eyebrows can do so much of the heavy lifting. “Last thing you ate was a cup of yogurt, and that was last night. You’re hungry, and you’ll eat.”

If you knows what’s good for you, her tone implies, along with the dire consequences if he doesn’t.

It’s enough to get him on a bench. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’m hungry.”

Kiki Seiran’s frown could make battle-hardened soldier spring for the head, but Zen just weathers it, drawing this stand off to a stalemate. “I’m gonna get you something. I’ll even make it green.” She glances across the table, scowl sending shivers down even Mitsuhide’s spine. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

There’s not enough showmanship in a Seiran to stomp, but Kiki moves with a purpose, exuding the sort of don’t fuck with me energy that makes seas of servicemen part in her path. She might be one of the smaller rangers on deck, but everyone who has dreamed of sliding on a drive suit knows that an altercation with her is career limiting. Mostly for the joints. 

Or at least the ones that didn’t grow up with her being two doors down do.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” Zen hunches over the table, shoulders hiked up around his ears as sharp as pickets, like that might warn everyone to keep their distance. “All I say is that I’m not hungry, and she thinks she can get all up in my business. Like there’s something wrong with me just because I don’t need to eat all the time.” He glances up at him, annoyed. “I’m fine, you know.”

The thing is, Zen believes it. His eyes are jumping all around this room, not able to hold a gaze while saying it, but he’s convinced he’s okay. All his parts are in the right place, nothing’s bleeding, and he’s not waking up in the wee hours screaming, so what’s there to complain about? A couple skipped meals here and there, a few extra hours of sleep, none of that feels like trouble, not to a guy who has trained his whole life to climb into a Conn-Pod and leave it all to the drift.

So there’s no point in starting in argument, in scolding him for not taking better care. Instead, Mitsuhide hums, not quite an agreement, and not quite not. Middle of the road--

“Oh, fuck you,” Zen sneers, digging a fist through his hair. “I am. Just had one hell of a drift. You know how those are. It’s just like...”

Like your body isn’t your own. Or that there’s more of it, a whole person’s worth, that won’t work no matter how many signals your brain pumps out.

“A hangover.” That’s what they used to call it in the Academy. Made sense when the first trip through the Pons System usually ended with a cadet hanging over the toilet. “I still eat.”

Zen glares. “Of course you do. You’d die if you didn’t eat a whole cow every day.”

“Be fair.” A tray slams down on the table in front of him, leafy greens fluttering in disarray. “Sometimes he eats a whole turkey instead. For cardiovascular health.”

“Hey.” It’s always like this when the two of them snipe at each other; if he stands on the sidelines long enough, he’s the one bound to end up in their sights. “I abide by the PDPC’s nutritional guidelines. For a man my height--”

Zen snorts. “Don’t pretend this has anything to do with your height.”

“That’s--”

“You think all those calories are going into your bone structure?” Kiki folds her arms behind her own dinner, one perfectly plucked eyebrow rising with the sort of searing skepticism only a Seiran could manage. “Please, if they let Zen in, I think the PDPC isn’t concerned with inches on a yardstick.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zen forehead fouls up with the signs of a stormfront even the Pacific would be hard-pressed to match. “I’ll have you know that I grew at least two inches in basic, and after the Academy, I--”

His teeth snap shut with a clack, hard enough Mitsuhide’s molars ache with sympathy. Every inch of his body quivers with tension, alert the way a ranger is in his rig, ready for conflict to rear right up out of the waves--

And that’s when the doors swing open. The commissary is packed shoulder-to-shoulder now that third shift’s let out, J-techs and K-science and admins all bumping elbows to make some space; even a familiar faces could get lost in the crowd, and yet Zen whips around and fixes on this one right away. 

Not because of the full head of dark bristle, or the cheekbones so angular they could cut glass-- that’s par for the course in a place that specializes in picking clean the bones of other service branches, poaching only the best of the best. No, it’s how he slips through the door, not with the macho swagger the Academy breeds into its recruits, but with a cat’s boneless saunter, like his skin is just a suggestion of where he ends, not a hard boundary. He’s got that ranger confidence, the kind that says he could take down every body in the room, but on him it’s not hot air, not some way he gasses himself up to fight ten ton monsters, but--

But the truth. There’s a ruthlessness to him, an edge that says he’d be willing to turn that even onto himself if it meant he stayed breathing.

It makes Mitsuhide’s hands itch, makes him want to pick up a jo and see just how much of that really bears out on the mat. To see if he’s all attitude like most of the rangers that strut under the dome, or--

Ah, but another cracked chin isn’t what this situation needs. Not when Zen’s already half out of his seat, quivering like a dog at the end of his leash.

Not when Obi catches a glimpse of him, a flash of red hovering at his shoulder, and ducks right back out the way he came. Zen practically collapses back on the bench, all that nervous energy turned to despair.

“Oh, I get it,” Kiki hums, leaning a chin on her fist. “He’s ghosting you.”

Zen spears a spinach leaf. “It’s complicated.

“I gotta tell you, major.” Shuuka lifts his hands, something less than a shrug but more than a sigh. “This whole thing’s got me stumped.”

Mitsuhide hums, a toneless question, palm scraping across the bristle at his neck. “You don’t say.”

“We’ve gone over every bolt of the old girl and there’s not a thing out of place, not even a line of code left to bug.” He hooks his hands around his hips, squinting straight up into Rex Tyrannis’ sightless eyes. “Either this whole thing was a fluke, or...”

There’s a whole sea of things that aren’t said in that silence, a hull full of hunches that are too dangerous to air out. Shuuka struggles there, mouth working around an allegation with too much armament to bring into civil conversation. But they both know: he has to. It’s not his job to spit out what the higher ups want to hear, but to accurately assess the problem.

And by the pained look in the crew chief’s eye, he’s done just that. “I’m thinking that there might not be a problem with the plasmacaster itself,” he says, winding up so slow Mitsuhide can see every word before he hears it. “But maybe there is one between the pons and pod.”

Pilot error. Chasing the rabbit. His jaw clenches on reflex. “I--”

Red flashes, right down past his feet. He can see blaze through the grating, flitting from bay to bay like a cardinal in a bush. The same way it had fluttered by Obi’s shoulder in the mess, there one moment and gone the next. Haah, now there’s someone who might have some answers.

“We’ll have to pick this up later, LT,” he says, giving the kid a pat on the shoulder. “Something’s just come up.”

There’s no reason to rush; his target isn’t much of an elusive one, even when she’s got a purpose-- short legs and too many hours behind a desk don’t really promote hustle-- and she’s sure not in a hurry now. No, by the way that professional-style ponytail is idling down by Rex Tyrannis’s toes, she’s looking for a reason to stick around. One that might have to do with the six-foot shadow she’s conspicuously missing.

Still, Mitsuhide bounds down the scaffolding like there’s a fire under him, hopping down entire flights when there aren’t J-Techs to worry about on the rebound. It’s the kind of physical stunt he thought he outgrew when the Academy put their patch on him; the kind of showboating that had been smothered out of him when they stood him in front of a hundred ton killing machine and told him to protect mankind or die trying.

But one jump down rattles the scaffolding, enough that she looks up, big-eyes rounding as she lands on his face. Her mouth shapes itself around his first syllable, but he’s the first one to wave, to call out, “Shirayuki! Just...just a minute, please!”

“Ah...” Shirayuki doesn’t have the sort of voice that implies volume, the kind that only lifts itself to fill the space between two bodies, not a room. But she takes one look at him up on the grating and lets her chest expand enough to boom out, “Take your time!”

It’s a kind sentiment-- one he appreciates when the most common one he gets from up top is, and put some hurry on it-- but Mitsuhide’s got no intention of making the doc wait around. He cans the cadet-style antics, sure, but being a big man in a hurry tends to clear a path real quick. He pounds down the stairs two at a time, hitting the deck with a friendly, “It’s been a while.”

Weeks at least, if he doesn’t count the commissary. Not since he and Kiki spent a whole afternoon idling on the sidelines, watching some boys from Hong Kong skid to victory by the skin of their teeth. The dividing lines had come down, him on one side, and her on the other, and when they lifted, well...

“It has been.” Shirayuki smiles the way he wears his drive suit: easy, like she’s made for it. “Things have been going...well?”

“No kaiju.” That’s the only metric that matters under the dome; whether that’s good or not comes down to personal opinion. By the grimace on her face, Shirayuki knows it. “And you? Everything going...ah...?”

This should be it: his moment. The perfect place to insert a conversational elbow and steer this whole topic right around, to finally ask what’s been itching at him since last night. And yet--

He can’t. Maybe Kiki could just come out and ask if Obi’s tearing himself up, if he’s locked himself in his bunk and gone on some sort of hunger strike, the way dogs do when they’ve really got a mind to pine. Not without admitting that’s just the sort of thing Zen’s been up to these last few days, and considering what he thinks of Shirayuki, well, it seems a little cruel.

But Shirayuki’s standing in front of him right now, politely waiting for him to wrap up these pleasantries, so he settles for, “...Fine?”

“Oh!” That easy smile of hers strains under her laugh. “Keeping busy!”

They say rangers have an instinct, a gut feeling for opportunity. In a jaeger, that’s an opening, a sense for the weak spot on a body that’s made of muscle and scale and whatever spite the Pacific can spit at them. It’s the bleeding edge between success and failure, of limping home alive or being an empty box at your mother cries over at a funeral.

With two feet on dry ground, it’s listening to the whistle of a soft pitch as it passes you by. Which is what’s going to happen right now, if he doesn’t figure out how to put a question together.

Just blurting it out is too...blunt. Too much like vulnerability, a voice like Shirayuki’s opines in his ear. He’s got to switch up his tactics. More than one way to skin a cat, after all. Something more subtle, maybe.

“So I’d imagine.” He hooks an arm over the railing, casual. “Since there’s, uh, been a lot to sort out. After...everything.”

There, perfect.

“You, uh...” He coughs, so natural, into his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

All right, that not so much.

Her smiles twitches, too tight, before it melts away, a hiccup of a breath rolling right into a giggle.

“Oh no,” she manages around it, clutching her belly. “We’re doing it again.”

Mitsuhide stares. “Ah...we are?”

A small hand waves between them, utterly helpless. “We’re both asking around the same things again. Fumbling around in the dark from different directions!” She collects herself with a sniff, wiping tears from her eyes. “So I’m guessing you haven’t gotten much out of Zen? When I saw you out yesterday, I thought...”

“Ah...” He grimaces. “No, that’s as much headway as we’ve made all week. I thought since you were out with Obi, that maybe he had been...?”

Seeing you, he doesn’t say, which means there’s no need for him to rush to tack on, professionally. Not that personally seems to be off the table. Just a few weeks ago, Zen and the good doctor had seemed like a done deal save for some thorny professional ethics to work around on her part, but now--

“I’m sorry.” Her smile strains at the corners. “Even if had, I couldn’t tell you.”

Well, it looks like she might not be in a rush to be ethically complicated over this one.

“Welp.” He lets out a chuckle of his own, thumbs hooking hard into his belt loops. “Guess we’re both coming back empty handed after this fishing expedition, huh?”

There’s a rueful slant to her smile as she flicks her gaze away, not so much bashful but frustrated. “Seems like. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“No, no!” He waves a hand between them. “Don’t worry about it. I’m the one sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”  

Her eyebrows furrow, a reflection of her frown. “That’s not a very generous interpretation. Zen used to be your copilot, it’s only natural that you would have strong feelings about his happiness.”

He used to be Zen’s copilot, but there no way to explain that distinction to someone outside the drift, to try to explain what having a jaeger means to someone who hasn’t dreamed of being in one.

“Everything’s going to work out on it’s own, I’m sure,” he says instead. “We just have to let it.”

There’s a dubious rumple to her mouth, a question in her eyes that she knows better than to ask. “If that’s what you think...”

He doesn’t, not a bit, but Mitsuhide puts on his brights smile when he says, “Of course I do.”

In a dome full of rangers and ranger-hopefuls, there’s no magic hour when the gym clears, when crowded machines and rubberneckers are exchanged for freedom and silence. Or at least, no reasonable hour; Kiki keeps suggesting he join her at midnight, but for a man raise on the military’s clock, that’s...way past his bedtime.

So instead he settles for an audience, racking up his plates while a tidy little crowd idles just far enough away for plausible deniability. Or it least it would be, if there weren’t so many of them, whispers gaining an edge as he loads a ninth plate on either side. By the time he sets his soles against the footplate, it’s a quiet roar, and when he presses through his first rep, it cuts to a gasp.

It’s the machine that does most of the work on a press; he squats half this-- well, a little more; last thing he needs is some J-tech fainting because he went to ten plates. But there’s no need to share that, not when the room’s actually quiet while he does his reps, letting him think for once, his thoughts as disjointed as they are in the drift, dwelling on--

Well, not Kiki cornering him in the showers, that’s for sure. They spend a whole trimester on mental hardiness at the Academy, on keeping that iron grip whenever they take a dip in the drift, but all it took was one handshake with Kiki Seiran to turn all that training useless. He’d like to believe she’s just kind enough not to say anything, not to mention how unprofessional it is for him to blurt all his sexual fantasies out the moment their handshake’s complete, but sometimes she looks at him, mouth hooked slyly like it was in the head last night, and he wonders...

“Well, well.” A shadow falls over him, just as oily as the smirk that casts it. “Lowen. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you hard at work.”

Mitsuhide’s teeth grit down into a smile. “Hisame Lugis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, you know.” That floppy hair of his shifts-- not regulation-- baring the vicious glint in his eye. “If I’m going to be moving around ten tons of metal, I figure I can put in a few hours to prepare.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Good thing my right side has always been my best, I suppose.”

It’ll take more than a few bicep curls to replace me, Mitsuhide doesn’t say, struggling to keep that sunny disposition. “You don’t say. Hadn’t heard any news that we had a seat open in a pod.”

“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.” The smirk hooks to a deeper slant, and Lugis leans, fingers close enough to brush his kneecap. “Better keep that leg in good condition, Lowen. Since it’s the only half of you that’s any use.”

That scarecrow of a man stalks off, and oh, Mitsuhide likes to give everyone a fair shake, to let everyone have their chance to grow, but he even he has to admit: he does not like that man.

“Wow,” hums a voice right in his ear. “He seems fun.”

Mitsuhide knows better than to startle on the bench, but he does jump, footplate dropping hard into his soles. “Jesus.”

“Easy there, big guy.” He’s never seen Obi up close, but now he’s got a a hand on his shoulder, patting him the same way a man might soothe his dog. “Guy could lose a finger like that. Maybe a few toes? I don’t know, I try not to think about how that stuff works with these things.”

“Ah, I...” It’s stupid how his chest heaves, how this has pushed him more than thirty reps. “I wasn’t really expecting...?”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” The hand on his shoulder helps guide him up, making him level with that grin. Alright, maybe he does get why Kiki punched first, asked questions later. “Used to get told to wear a bell. Not that it would have helped here. Your eyes were for that snake and that snake only.”

“Hisame Lugis. He’s kind of a...” Bastard. “Prick.”

“Yeah, he seemed like a real barrel of monkeys.” Obi steps back once he’s upright, arms slung behind his head. “Have to admit, I’m a little jealous.”

Mitsuhide glances up at him, confused. “J-jealous?”

“Yeah, I came in here and saw you lifting, and I thought, he’s Master’s guy, he’ll be all on me like white on rice.” Those strange eyes of his narrow, only a flash of gold between the lids. “But snake boy got all the attention.”

He’s too busy trying to catch his breath to keep up with the conversation. “Zen wouldn’t like it if he knew you called him--”

“Listen, big guy, I know what you’re after.” Obi’s all grins when he bends down, but none of it reaches his eyes. “You’re thinking that if all your friends there took me to the mats, you want a spin.”

His first instinct is to deny it, to say prefers civil conversation to combat, but--

But his hands itch. He’s a ranger, after all.

“Yeah,” he pants out. “Why not.”

The gym isn’t as well equipped as the combat room, but there’s jo slung against a rack. None of them big enough for him, of course, but--

“I was thinking we might do something a little different.”

Mitsuhide squints over his shoulder. “Different?”

“Yeah.” There a sharp edge hidden in that smile, something that says it’s looking for a bloodier sport. “I was thinking...Big Guy like you must do well at hand-to-hand.”

His fingers curl, knuckles cracking as they settle into a fist. “I’m not half bad.”

[luckyluan]

Chapter 4.3: The Rainbow and The Echo

Maxim cut the invisible creature’s laughter short as his copper bullet found purchase in its body. The shriveled creature, suddenly, materialized high on the ceiling above the bathroom counter; and its tan skin cracked on impact. The creature’s carved skin floated into the smoky air as the creature drew a rattling breath. It held three long, taloned fingers on each hand and its sallow skin revealed its bones. It twitched and writhed before it relaxed. Its body curled into a tight ball and the singular milky eye rolled back in its head.  

“An Oris. The love children of an Io and an Iris. They turn invisible at will and their voices are powerful instruments of confusion.” Maxim explained. 

“Rainbows and echoes.” Antwan murmured. “I’ve never seen one before.” 

The Oris lurched to its feet and clawed the air. Maxim’s copper bullet was lodged in its windpipe, and it no longer cast its screeches into their brains. Antwan bawled his fist and struck the creature between the eyes and the mythical creature crumpled to the ground in a heap of parchment skin. It was dead. 

“A direct message from the Eternal family.” said Maxim. “An Oris is only capable of repeating what someone says.” 

“And if the Mont-Claires sent this after us, who else did they send?” asked Antwan. 

“What else...” Maxim thought. “We don’t have long before they find us here and I don’t think we’ll survive another in this lovely bed and breakfast.” 

“I’ll find some keys.” Antwan volunteered. 

Maxim followed close behind Antwan, and they trudged down the winding stairs. The Oris’ metallic voice ran in his ears. He may have shot the abnormal creature, but the copper bullet did not the pounding echo reverberating around in his head. 

“Do you feel that?” Maxim called. “The Oris’ screams are still splitting my head open.” 

“It’s an Orisean echo, I think, and if I remember correctly, it goes away over time or it stays with you until...” Antwan trailed off. 

“Until they find me.” Maxim finished. 

“We gotta find Bernard.” Antwan offered. “Fast.” 

“You think we need the case?” Maxim asked. 

“We’re in deep shit, Max.,” said Antwan. “We need all the help we can get.” 

Maxim suppressed a smile. His husband was on his side no matter how angry he was. He followed behind Antwan pushed a sizable door open. They emerged into a sumptuous carriage house, and he stopped in his tracks. 

The light-colored bricks and massive arched windows made the space feel infinite and Maxim busied himself in the kitchenette. He rummaged through brass knobbed cabinets. He slammed the doors as quickly as he opened them and found it. He turned to the kitchen island with a bottle and a glass. A slab of solid oak sat atop the floating counter and Maxim wrapped it with his knuckle as he sat his pristine glass down. He pulled the cork from an old bottle of dark liquor with his teeth and spat it into the sink before he held the odd-shaped bottle out to his husband. 

“You serious?” Antwan growled. “Now?!” 

“I’ll take that as a no.”  

Maxim tossed back the room temperature scotch and rinsed his glass. He wrapped the glass in a nearby towel and opened another cabinet. The metallic clang of jingling keys greeted him with their cheerful clashes, and he picked a set dangling from a turquoise, boot-shaped keychain. He mashed the button for the car alarm and waited. 

“Dead battery?” Antwan asked. 

“Nah, just old school.” Maxim pondered. 

They moved into the garage. Antwan’s steps thundered off the polished concrete as he pulled the dusty cover off a beat-up Ford Bronco with chipped white paint and a missing fender. He tossed his husband a smile. 

“Down for a joyride?” he asked. 

[guttersniper]

@inrovina + @holyrots said: marco and victoria have prepared a stocking for mutt — knitted by victoria — to open in the morning. it is filled with an assortment of wrapped gifts within, including candy, a new paperback, a hat and a deck of playing cards. that isn’t all. later, after a hearty meal with the whole family, marco presents mutt with another gift — a new pair of sturdy boots, custom made to fit the kid like a glove. “look here,” he says, pointing to the opening of the boot. on the inside, a name is already sewn: mutt. “they’re all yours.” victoria smiles at them both before handing mutt the next wrapped gift — a warm winter coat with fleece lining. “and this is to match, to keep you nice and cosy while the snow’s falling outside. we were hoping you could wear it later, if you’d like to join us for a walk in the park.” an annual tradition, back when it was just the two of them. they’d like mutt there with them too, now.

xeno makes a beeline for mutt the second he bursts into marco and victoria’s apartment. “mutt!” there is a big wrapped gift in his arms, an all-too-obvious shape. “please, please you gotta open this now — you have no idea how hard it is to keep secrets from you — i mean, shit—“ he sets the large present down (it is clearly a big canvas, but in all actuality contains a set of multiple canvases in varying sizes) and pulls the next present out of his backpack. “these, as well.” inside the snowman wrapping paper is a set of acrylic paints. “ta-da! and there’s me. well, i just mean—if you want lessons. or. anything. like, we can do art workshops. together. or not. hey, do you like them? is this okay? did i get it right?”

wesley makes a quieter entrance into the apartment, closing the front door with stitch at his heel. he waits to approach until xeno has chilled out and finished with his energetic gift giving session, scurrying off into the kitchen to say hi to marco and victoria. wesley comes over to mutt with a tentative smile on his face, careful to not overwhelm. “hi, mutt. i’ve got something for you, too. one of them was impossible to wrap. the other you can open later, if you want.” he offers up the first present — a small potted houseplant. “for your room here, i thought. it's propagated from one of mine.” the second present, the one successfully wrapped, contains a framed photo: it’s a photograph wesley took, of mutt with xeno, marco and victoria, none of the subjects aware of the picture being taken. it’s a family portrait.

give mutt gifts!

to say that this is a new experience for mutt would be an overwhelming understatement. his thanks are simple, bewildered by the length of the gift-giving session. one thing after another. when he thought it was over, another came his way. it makes his own gifts to them feel small and paltry by comparison.

having a room that belongs to him, that is the oddest of all. he still has trouble referring to it as that. as he held up the coat against his body in the privacy of his room, testing to see how it would hang on his body for the second, third, maybe fourth, time, he wondered how he was going to tell them, in an understandable way, that he can't just get rid of his old coat and boots like that.

it isn't that easy. there's still some use in them. he'll use them until he absolutely can't any more. it is nice, though, and just as new, that he's got these replacements. doesn't have to worry about going out and finding them. he'll take good care of them until then, but he'll wear the coat out, today, so that they can see him in it. not for his ego, a word that doesn't even sound right when associated with him, but for their sake.

he promised xeno they'd paint together sometime. mutt likes that, the idea of doing something alongside a friend. not being pressured to talk or feel like they should do the same thing. just existing beside each other, doing their own things. knowing that the other person is there. maybe even enjoying his company, if such a thing could be true.

he's already started the book -- mass-market, small but thick, regarded as classic historical fiction -- when wesley approaches him. his skinny scarred-bruised legs are under him, socked heels pressing into the sinew of his thighs at the back. the house is quieter, though a soulful christmas tune spins around on the record player, and he can faintly hear someone rummaging around in the kitchen. the book folds over his thumb, then he decides he needs to set it aside. he tucks the scrap piece of paper he's using as a bookmark inside.

his voice comes out low and faintly hoarse as always. he smiles in his toothless way, hesitant but genuine. " thank you. " the wrapped gift will be opened later, again when he's left alone. the pot is placed on the empty windowsill, angled just so to get proper sunlight.

marco calls for them. stitch runs to gather them, panting excitedly. mutt stands after putting his old boots back on. pulling on his new coat, he can't remember the last time he had something that fit so well. " c'mon. "

[ask-miles-per-sonic]

The screen flickers open to a new room this time, the space a brightly lit hangar. A sleek, bright red plane dusted lightly with snow sits in the middle of the space, only partially visible through the video's view, and the tall walls of the room are strung with lines of twinkling, multicolored festive lights. The floor and every semi-flat surface that can be seen is covered in colorfully wrapped packages of varying sizes and shapes, some shiny and reflective, others printed with festive patterns and icons, circles, or stripes. Some are topped with glitter dusted ribbons, others velvet-like bows. Yet more are being carried on the backs of small spider shaped robots, that move in neat lines from the stacks of gifts to the tail end of the plane where they deposit their cargo, before returning to the piles once more. Each of the bots is sporting an appropriately sized elf hat.

In the middle of the activity stand Miles and Sonic, both of their backs towards the camera and the hedgehog has his head tilted to rest atop Miles' shoulder. The fox is wearing a dark brown suede coat that reaches down to his knees, usual sneakers swapped out for a pair of heavy, laced up snow boots, and atop his head sit a spiraling set of antlers that twist up above his head, decorated with bunches of holly and deep red poinsettias. The thick petals of the flowers match the color of Sonic's own thick coat, his reaching down to mid calf and lined with a trim of cream colored fur, gold stitching paint the twist and flourish of wind and snow along the lower edge of the coat, the designs growing sparser as they rise along the back and pass beneath a thick black belt. The top of the coat sports a matching cape across the shoulders, the outfit finished off with a flopping hat pulled down by a fluffy ball on the end and a set of slick black boots, one of which is lazily crossed over the other.

There's the murmur of discussion that barely reaches the audio equipment, muffled by the low tapping clicks of the Arach-Droids' legs as they scuttle about their business. "Ahead of schedule," Miles is saying, flipping over the page of the clipboard he holds. "Just don't take too long, or we risk falling behind."

"Tell that to your tech," Sonic all but grumbles, tossing a pointed thumb over his shoulder. "It's been fighting against me all day." With an exaggerated sigh of misery, Sonic shifts his head to rest just his chin against Miles, glancing over towards the camera with a pout. Green eyes scan over the computer's screen, before pointed blue ears perk to attention and a grin stretches across his face. "Hey, it's finally on!" He announces, quickly pushing off from Miles and hopping over the line of marching spider droids, until he's close enough to properly address the camera with an excited wave.

"Hello everyone! I know it's been a little while since we've answer a question, me and Miles have been pretty busy with getting everything ready for the holidays and that hasn't left a lot of time for much else." Spreading his arms out in a lazy shrug, Sonic gives a put-upon sigh. "Gotta tell ya, this Santa business is a rough gig." The blue blur turns away from the camera again, throwing that brilliant grin back to Miles and the hard working droids. "Lucky for me, I've got the best helpers you could ask for."

Across the room, the little spider machines give a symphony of chirping sounds in greeting, continuing their efforts uninterrupted as Miles turns to give the camera a wave of his own. "Sonic, where did you even find that computer?" The fox's usually neutral expression breaks into an amused smile, his voice touched with a laugh. "That thing's ancient, I didn't know we even still had it."

"It was in your lab storage!" Sonic asserts with a waving gesture of his hands towards the camera and its attached device, his ears tilting back just a little. "And it looked modern enough!" The defensiveness of his tone has the fox breaking out into a bout of chittering laughter where he stands, giving a full-fledged grin towards the camera for the first time.

It has the pout pursing Sonic's mouth melting into a soft smile, one full of an obvious fondness. Though it shifts to amusement, when he tilts his head back towards the camera. "This is why I prefer when he handles the techno stuff, but anyway!" He turns back around, clapping his hands together. "I sure hope you've all been good this year," Sonic points at the camera, giving the viewer a stern look. It rapidly breaks down into another cheeky grin. "I'd hate to have to leave coal in anyone's stockings!"

The hedgehog snickers to himself, grinning against the knuckles of one hand. In the gap beside him, further back into the hangar, Miles moves to one of the now-emptied work tables and sets down his clipboard. Instead picking up a new bushel of greenery, and busying himself with attaching it among the other plants decorating the antlers on his head.

"But no matter what you get or don't get come morning, we both wish you all a very Merry Christmas and happy holiday, whatever you celebrate!" There's a boundless affection in Sonic's expression, fondness like which he had looked at Miles with just moments ago. Quiet, but powerful. "Holidays aren't always as good as they should be, sometimes whole years aren't, but I hope each of you was able find some joy this past year, and that you can find some tomorrow too. And if you'd like, come tell us about your favorite things to do during the winter months, or favorite holiday song to listen to!

We'd love to hear about it!" Sonic gives a playful little salute, grinning brightly. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have a bunch more deliveries to do before the nights over, see you guys later!" He waves again, before turning his attention to the computer itself, frowning in thought as he does. Whatever he's trying to accomplish, doesn't seem to work, and the hedgehog ultimately abandons it in favor of hurrying back over to Miles.

The camera is still running, recording as he comes to pause before the fox— who's hoisted himself onto the work table, twin tails swishing about on either side of him —head tilted in an unspoken question. Miles only raises his chin, blue eyes flicking from Sonic up to the assortment of festive plants decorating his headpiece. The older man follows his gaze, rising till it catches on the newest addition there, a bundle of green and white. Grins almost shyly when realization hits him, Sonic stepping forward to fill the space between Miles' knees as his hands rise to cup fluffy white cheeks, pulling the fox into a deep kiss.

The last shot the video catches, before it finally shuts off.

[keiren-lorelei]

Second boot finished!

The paint might’ve still been a little wet the first time I tried fixing the mistakes with black marker, because I tried again and it worked!

Everything else is ready, all I gotta do is shave my beard…

[plaindangan]

We all know maki has an out of this world class ass. A giga butt with thicc tights that makes most males and ladies go awooga~.. but she’s always been lacking in the chess department!… which wouldn’t be a problem if not for Big bong piano kaede , tsumoomoo , kirumilf, miu titruma. So many front monsters!.. until one day, somehow her bust grows up to kaede’s size!… how about she try on seducing that himbo of an astronaut now~?

Disclaimer: Below is content that's more on the racy side! If not for you, you probably shouldn't read!

"H-heeey, Kaito..." Hm? Kaito knew that stern sounding voice from anywhere! Maki Roll!~ Granted, sounded like she was kinda flustered? Weeeell, nothing but a meeting with the Luminary of the Stars to help out his buddy!~ Turning on his feels, smiling wide, he went to greet her.

"Hey, Maki Ro-oooh what the Hell!?" His jaw dropped as his eyes were glued to the two new 'additions' to her chest. Her usual shirt wasn't even close to fitting such stacked melons and it showed!~ The cleavage had much of the new babies spilling out and it was so large, Kaito could even see a bit of underboob if he were to angle himself correctly.

"H-hey, Kaito..."

"Maki!? The Hell happened!? How did you even....y-y-y-you know!!" he says, eyes glued to the sights...admittedly with less surprise and mora of just straight arousal. Something not lost to Maki who, instinctively, began slowly and gently pushing up the set up Double D's.

"No clue, just woke up with these this morning. It's been such a pain with these, how the Hell does Kaede even move right with them?" she 'grumbles, slowly swaying to give her new breasts more of a bounce to them. Slowly hypnotizing Kaito into becoming more and more aroused.

Seems like it's all over!~ Slowly, a sly smirk comes onto her face. "Well...nothing to it then...before we do anything else. Shall we head back to my place? I kinda want to test these things out. Want to help me?"

"..." Ah? Slowly, a frustrated look appeared on Maki's face. Wait, was her seriously still that focused on her new boobs!? Blushing, she stomped over to Kaito and began dragging him off. "Ugh, freakin' moron. Gotta learn how to use these things better..."

-

"Ergh? Hmm? What's is...oh shit!! Maki you-!!" Before Kaito could finished that sentence, Maki's fingers was quickly to his lips, shutting him up. Looks like he finally snapped out of it. Good because now he could fully enjoy the sight of them.

Maki had tossed out her shirt and had her new milkers for his viewing, though she seemed somewhat flustered by it. Coated with the same oil she used for ass, they shone lusciously and were quite perky to boot. Perfect for the activities that were about to do!~

"We've already been through this!! Just...allow me to show you that I can be just as good with these as anyone else in my class..." Taking a deep breath, she kissed the astronaut on the lips before removing his pants and boxers.

Just like usual!~ Kaito's girthy 'rocket' wonderfully rocked her ass so many times...it's time for her to do the same!~ Devotedly, she stuck it in between her new breasts and hurriedly began trying to do the signature titjob the other members of her class had perfected!

"M-makiiiiii!! Y-you don't-aaaaah! F-fuuuuck!" The astronaut's words were cut off and he was drowned in the lust of it all. Maki's boobs were just that soft and she seemed like a natural in getting this down pat!~ Perhaps all her time with her previously more well endowed friends had her pick up a few things?

Well, regardless, Maki wasn't going to be satisfied with just moans and looks of pleasure!~ She wanted the finish: Kaito's thick cum!~ "C'mon, don't you even try to hold back! This was a gift from....okay, no clue how I got these. But still, now I'm just as complete as the others!! So give it all to me! Give me your-!!!"

"M-MAKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!" She wasn't expecting Kaito to break juuuust so soon. Thus, before the assassin could react her face was painted with the sticky cream. Though sudden surprise as it maybe, as her tongue lapped up some of it, she took this as a sign that she did it. She was now in the same league as everyone else!~

--

"So I'm telling you, Maki Roll. Big boobs or not, you're just as awesome as always!!~" Kaito say encouragingly. By now, the two had recovered and were shoulder to shoulder next to each other.

"....Thank you, Kaito..." she says, lips twisting into a rare, but ever so warm, smile.

...

"...But you have to admit, it still felt really good for you, right?" she asked. The astronaut beamed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hah! Well, yeah, that felt fucking great!~" Maki didn't need big bazoingas to get this one's attention...but fuck it, if these milkers weren't a good bonus!~

[omo-goose]

A Walk In The Park

Characters; unnamed characters A, B, and C from this and this

Content Warnings; pants/panty peeing, omorashi desperation, diaper mention (briefly)

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It was a chilly, but fairly sunny, morning. Of course, A wanted to take advantage of the nice weather and take B and C out hiking.

C was still pretty sleepy while they pulled their outfit on, not really thinking about the fact it would still be pretty cold out. B normally liked wearing big, comfy clothes anyway, so they weren't too worried about keeping warm.

A tried to tell C to bring a jacket in case they got too cold, but C didn't really register the words before replying with a mumbled "mhm yeah," while they finished tugging on their boots. A shook their head, knowing they'd have to pack the extra for them instead.

Obviously they didn't mind, they could see how sleepy C was at the moment. A reasoned C would get a nap in the car and be rested enough for the hike, and if they were still tired, A would probably just let them piggyback so they could all still have a nice day together and C would get rest.

B already had their headphones on, standing at the door waiting for A to bring B along and them all to get going. They were sipping on a water bottle full of chocolate milk while they waited, fidgeting with the label occasionally.

Once everyone was ready, they headed out to the usual spot they liked to hike at. It was a fairly out of the way sort of place, but it was worth the long trip just to see the huge trees and breathtaking forestry.

B had finished their drink halfway through the drive there, and by the time they'd arrived, B could feel a slight pressure beginning to build in their bladder.

C seemed to have gotten a sufficient enough amount of rest to carry themself through most of the hike, but A had to keep a bit of an eye on them to make sure they didn't wander after a bug or lizard off the trail. They were so preoccupied with watching after C, they didn't even consider if either of them had had bathroom breaks before they left, although they kind of assumed.

B was walking a little slower than normal now, having had several water bottles given to them by A, and at least one thing of juice as well. They weren't sure how much further A had planned to go, bit they hoped they'd be going home very soon.

"A, I gotta piddle. I forgot to earlier," C, who was much more vocal than B at the moment, announced kinda loudly.

A looked over at them and chuckled, "I tell y'all every time to use the bathroom before we go out, do I gotta start packing diapers?" They teased lightly.

B's face was surely bright red now, their hands fidgeting with the font fabric of their skirt. They wanted to speak up about their need as well, feeling much fuller than comfortable at the moment, but they couldn't bring their lips to form the words. The very thought was almost enough to make them start to tear up a little, but they were just barely able to hold it back.

A suddenly noticed B's predicament, a look of concern immediately painting their features. "Oh, B, do you gotta go pee as well hun?" Their tone was gentle and soft as they went over to B.

B immediately froze up, stopping in their tracks, hands shooting between their legs to hold themself desperately, "mh! ah!" They whimpered, tears now streaming down their cheeks.

"Ah, I'm so sorry I should have made sure you used the bathroom before we left.. it's okay if you have an accident here, just go ahead and go hun, don't hurt yourself..." A tried to coax B into relaxing.

"If it'll help any, I'll piddle myself too!" C came up beside A, attempting to help with being comforting.

B's legs were shaking, and when they let out a slightly wheezed laugh from C's comment, their bladder decided to finally give out. Slowly at first, a few short spurts caused them to gasp slightly, then the rest began pouring out freely. Rivulets of urine streaming down their thighs and legs, staining their skirt slightly where they held themself.

C and A cooed words of encouragement throughout the whole ordeal, and soon after C noticed they also REALLY needed to go too.

"I, uh, I'm piddling..." They mumbled as they began leaking a bit.

"That's okay, go ahead and go too, we'll you two cleaned up when we get home." A offered with a hand on their shoulder.

Without further warning, C began wetting themself as well, soaking through their leggings for a full minute or two. They involuntarily let out a small moan and had to lean on A for support as their legs went slightly weak. They hadn't realized just how bad they'd had to go.

After C was finished, the trio headed back the other way down the trail, and when they got home A helped C and B get cleaned up. They all took a hot bath together in an extra large tub and then watched their favorite shows together on the couch snuggled underneath a big, soft blanket.

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[geralehane]

The Quiet Heights | Chapter 1

You Are Now Entering The Quiet Heights

River West moves into a new neighborhood full of unexplainable things, and now she can't leave. Her only option is to try and solve the mystery that is The Quiet Heights, with its strange residents, friendly witches, an ominous all-knowing Library and a creepy Neighborhood Advisory Council that may or may not be behind most of the things going wrong. *** River hadn't left her apartment in a week. Ever since she moved here.

Well, not really –  she still needed food and her dog still needed daily walks, so it would be more correct to say that she hadn’t left her neighborhood for a week. With the almost-constant rain outside, it was quite easy to hole up in the apartment anyway. And with the heartbreak River was still nursing, spending days in complete solitude seemed like the only logical decision, so she chose to stick by it.

It was getting harder and harder to drag herself outside with every passing day. If it weren’t for her dog, she probably wouldn’t get out of bed at all, but Mouse has been getting restless as he usually does before his evening walk, and the contents of her fridge could use an upgrade. With a quiet groan, she stood up from the couch, put her laptop away, grabbed her coat and Mouse’s leash, and they were off.

The outside greeted her with crisp air and, of course, rain. Not the cozy kind, either; this one was tiny needles hitting the skin in the most unpleasant of ways and painting the streets in dull, washed-out gray. River tugged on her hood and scowled as she let Mouse drag her to the walkway behind the small apartment building. The convenience store was a short walk across it, and, after letting Mouse do his business and run around, she took the familiar route to the one-storeyed building.

The bell chimed as River walked in, Mouse trotting in tow. Lately, this and the interactions with the store owner have been the highlights of her days. Not that she was complaining, really. She didn’t know her name, but the woman behind the counter was always friendly in a non-talkative way - the best kind of friendly there was. On top of that, she allowed animals inside the store, so River didn’t have to agonize over the ethics of leaving your dog tied up alone outside. 

Upon River’s entrance, the shop owner greeted her with the usual kind smile. If it seemed a little tight-lipped today, River didn’t pay too much attention. Everyone’s dealing with their own things in their own way. 

The shopping process was barely a process, with her already knowing what she needed. There was some leftover ham and cheese in the fridge, so she grabbed a jar of pickles and some sliced bread. Making sandwiches was technically cooking, right?

 “Running on a tight schedule?” the owner asked as River approached the counter. She could only give her a confused frown. Perhaps it wasn’t too noticeable, but greasy hair in an unkempt ponytail and sweatpants with ugg boots she only bought because of the low effort they required when putting them on didn’t exactly scream in a hurry.  

“Not really, no,” she slowly replied, mostly to be polite. “Uh, how much is it?”

“That’ll be two-fifty,” the owner told her, distracted. Now River was beginning to realize she seemed off . Frazzled. “Just put it on the counter, I gotta close up.”

River’s frown deepened. Close up? It was barely seven pm and they were usually open well into midnight. Maybe she had an event to attend. A birthday, or a baby shower. Normal human things for people with a social circle they weren’t actively avoiding. “Okay.”

Now - when she said she needed to close up, RIver thought she meant she had to finish up some last-minute things before actually physically closing the door. But, as River fished for some change in her pockets, the owner ran to the door and began locking up. Three big locks for the barred door, and a satisfying click of the lock for the second regular metal door. Come to think about, did convenience stores in quiet remote neighborhoods really need that level of security? On the other hand, if you’ve ever been robbed at a gunpoint, you can never have enough doors, River reasoned. She didn’t know the woman’s life story enough to be questioning things.

The owner interrupted her inner musings with an impatient glance. “You done?”

“Uh. How am I supposed to leave?” The words felt clumsy on her tongue – that was the longest and the most eloquent sentence she’d said in a week. To another human, no less.

She huffed. “Back door,” duh was seemingly at the tip of her tongue.

River glanced at Mouse, who only blinked back. “Right.” She wasn’t even aware the store had a backdoor, but tonight was apparently the night of firsts. 

The owner, clearly fed up with River’s penchant for silent life contemplation, blew out an impatient sigh and all but shoved her towards the theoretical exit. “There,” she gestured. And, as if to further demonstrate its existence, the backdoor opened, revealing a mildly disheveled short woman in an honest-to-God traveling cloak. “Thank Goddess,” the woman uttered and darted further inside the store, paying little attention to the three of them. 

Mouse let out a tiny confused whine. River silently agreed. 

“Liana!” The shop owner cried out, completely appalled. “It’s late!” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry!” came from somewhere between the aisles, a bit muffled and genuinely apologetic. The woman reemerged shortly after, clutching five packs of salt to her chest. “Nana’s a little sick,” she breathlessly informed the agitated shop owner as she dumped her bounty on the counter. “I just got back, and --” 

“Jesus, Liana, just take it and get out,” the shop owner exclaimed, rubbing her temple. “And you - you’re still here, seriously? Both of you go, now. ” 

“I - okay,” River muttered, not too thrilled about being yelled at for no apparent good reason. She tugged on Mouse’s leash and hurried outside, nearly colliding with the other woman - Liana - in the doorway. 

“You mind?” the woman huffed, before pushing past her.

“Not at all,” River said to her retreating back. Had interpersonal communication really changed that much in a week, or was she missing something? Clearly, she was. Or maybe that was the Quiet Heights way - treat your neighbor as rudely as humanly possible. 

At least it was no longer raining and they could walk back in relative peace. It was getting a little foggy, but River quite liked the fog. Maybe she’d even take the long way home.

“Good lord,” the shop owner grunted behind her back. “Liana!” 

The cloaked figure, already a good few feet away, stopped. River could only look between the two. “Judy?” Liana called back, uncertain.

Well. Now River knew the shop owner’s name, which was already past the comfortable relationship level she wanted to have with the woman. 

“You wanna make sure this one gets home?”

It took River a tad longer than she’d like to admit to realize she was the this one in question. Just as she was about to point out that this one was a grown woman perfectly capable of finding her way to her apartment, Liana spoke, after a tense beat. 

“There’s still time.” And with that, she turned and walked away, surprisingly fast for someone of her stature. 

River glanced at Judy. Judy shook her head, expression caught between concerned and impatient. In the end, the impatience won out, it seemed. “Run home, kid. Hope I see you tomorrow. Just…” she hesitated, as she grasped the door handle, and shook her head again. “Go straight home, and don’t leave till morning.” 

“I wasn’t -- going to,” River told the already closed door. 

As far as social interactions went, that one wasn’t great. Not that she’d call it disastrous - and she considered herself to be a bit of an expert on those. It was just… honestly, it was simply outside of any frame of reference she had. An overall bizarre experience she would not want to repeat. It was high time she followed Judy’s advice and went straight home, anyway. Even without the rain it wasn’t exactly summer out. 

The fog seemingly thickened as River turned and headed in the general direction of her apartment building - or, at least, what she hoped to be the general direction of her apartment building, at that point. Mouse, not usually one for swiftly returning back home, was way ahead of her, tugging on the leash almost as forcefully as he did when he had to pee particularly badly. At first, River figured that was the case, but he didn’t stop to sniff at the ground or the trees. He simply pressed on forward, as if he was determined to end up back at the apartment as soon as possible. 

Really, that should have been her first clue. But then, River never claimed to be particularly aware of her surroundings. 

She frowned when her dog was all but sprinting towards their building, inches from suffocating himself with his collar. “Mouse,” she called out harshly, and came to a stop. He only whined in response, and didn’t abandon his attempts. “Stay. Hey - stay. ” 

Now, Mouse was a great dog. River would go as far as calling him the perfect dog, and sure, she might be biased, but she wasn’t that far off, either. He was patient, friendly, and quiet. He rarely demanded attention but absolutely loved it when he got it, he sensed every change in her mood and always tried to cheer her up, and he was an extremely well-behaved dog that followed every rule and command out of an enormous amount of love he had for her in his little fluffy body. Any command, he followed. Even when he smelled chicken and ran to the kitchen to try and beg a piece out, only to be met with a firm “ bed ” - he’d just sigh and trot to the other room without a fuss. That was how serious Mouse was about being a good dog. 

So, needless to say, having to not only repeat a command, but watch Mouse actively disobey it both times was nothing short of a shock. River froze, briefly, in disbelief. Mouse did nothing of the sort. He wheezed, and dug into the mushy ground with all paws, and tugged with all of his medium-sized-dog might. Forward. Forcing River to take an ill-fated step towards the hidden slick puddle. That was how River found herself on her back, staring up at the silhouettes of the tree branches less and less visible through the rapidly setting fog. It reminded her of being in a sauna, almost. Last time she’d been to one, she was a teenager, and her cousin poured way too much water on the hot stones, and they almost suffocated, and the air was boiling with heat. 

Now, the air was sharp with cold, and her body groaned with protest at the impact of the fall. She winced as she sat up, slowly, praying that nothing was broken. Thankfully, she seemed to be in one piece. And Mouse was sure in for a stern scolding. As soon as she found him, of course. 

“Fuck,” she grunted, no longer caring about any potential injuries as she hurriedly stood up and helplessly clenched her empty, leash-less hand. “Mouse! Mouse! ” She whipped around, eyes wide, as she struggled to see the four-legged shape through the fog she now absolutely despised. Most likely, he ran to their building, but River no longer had any idea which way was which. She could be facing the building, or she could be facing the convenience store, she could be facing the direction that Liana woman went in - it was all the same to her now. Just the tree-shaped shadows floating through the fucking Milky Way, along with her. 

River took a couple of shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself down in the face of an impending panic attack. It was, after all, just a weather condition. No matter how bad it got, she was in the middle of a quiet, well-populated neighborhood, surrounded by buildings and people and civilization. Which - speaking of civilization, River thought sheepishly and reached for her phone. Maybe the flashlight could help with the mist. Or was it mist when you could actually see through it? 

River filed that unhelpful thought for later and turned the flashlight on. It did zero for visibility, but somehow, she still felt a little safer. Someone ahead clearly had the same idea, because she could make out a couple of tiny lights dancing in the distance. Relief flooded through her at the sight. They could help her find Mouse, or at the very least point her to her building. “Hey, guys!” She yelled at them, waving her phone and walking towards their lights. “I think I’m lost. Well, I definitely am,” she let them know, with a short laugh. 

The lights bopped a little in place, as if whoever was holding them was gesturing while speaking to each other. It suddenly occurred to River, then, that she might not be perceived as a friendly neighbor of a non-dangerous kind. She certainly gave off weird, might-be-crazy vibes to herself at the moment. But she also needed help, and rather badly at this point. Wherever he was, Mouse was probably absolutely terrified without his human. 

That thought gave her strength and speed, and she practically ran towards the strangers with their weirdly dancing flashlights. “I’m really sorry if I startled you - I just, I’m new here, I moved in last week.” She was about to say even more in her sudden stream of consciousness. That she was disoriented, and confused, and scared, however silly that might seem to her unknown neighbors. Or that she was so worried and anxious about Mouse she had an acute stomach ache. Or that she had no idea fogs could even get that bad in populated areas, and this had to be some kind of a phenomenon and shouldn’t it be documented by some weather agency? She had a lot to share with the hopefully friendly strangers, which, in hindsight, probably would have made the interaction awkward for everyone involved. 

In a way, the fact that there was no one to tell all of that to was a blessing in disguise.

River slowly realized the absence of anything but the lights as she came within six feet of them. And there they were, the lights. With no people attached to them. Just two round spheres suspended in the air, a touch bigger than a tennis ball. At first, River thought them to be some sort of forgotten, malfunctioning Christmas lights, but she couldn’t see any strings they could be attached to. 

Ball lightning, she came to the next logical conclusion. River read somewhere that those usually appeared during a thunderstorm, but nature was weird, ball lightning was hardly explained as it was, and with delayed fear River also remembered that the glowing orbs were highly unpredictable and dangerous. 

As if hearing her thoughts, one of the spheres bobbed in place before leisurely floating towards her. It didn’t really look like lightning. More of an LED bulb. A clean, cold white reminiscent of offices and hospitals. Now that River thought more about it - could ball lightning even be that perfect round shape and perfect bright color?

And were they all that dangerous, really? When was the last time ball lightning - if that thing even was the matter in question - killed anyone? 

River took a step closer as soft, silky thoughts flowed through her mind. She slowly cocked her head to the right, studying the orb, and gasped when the orb seemingly did the same, dipping in the air as it followed her head movement. What if it was… intelligent? What if-- 

A sharp, enraged bark cut through the mental mist River didn’t realize she was in. She wasn’t given an appropriate amount of time to react, however, because the next moment she found herself on her back for the second time that night, a petite body sprawled across her. 

“Mother fucker, ” the body groaned in a familiar voice. River hadn’t heard it that pained before - only annoyed with her general existence. “Get up, goddammit, get the fuck up!” 

Like that. It did come with a new flavor of panicked this time. And incessant angry barking in the background. 

River blinked. “Liana?” She asked, just to be sure. 

The body growled in frustration, but didn’t stop trying to tug River to her feet. Which was ambitious, to say the least, given River’s height and general uncooperation. “Get up ,” she practically snarled. Over her shoulder, River watched her sweet, well-mannered dog spray spit as he barked at the increasingly frantic glowing orbs. 

“Mouse,” she mumbled, and got up. 

“Fucking finally, ” Liana breathed out. She still did not stop tugging on River’s hand. Now, she was directing them away from the lights. 

No, River thought with sudden despair. She couldn’t just leave them - she couldn’t… 

A loud slap resonated through the fog, the entire left side of River’s face was on fire, and Liana briefly looked satisfied. “Get moving,” she instructed. River allowed herself to be led away, mostly out of sheer shock. Mouse was already in front of them, sprinting away, his tail tucked between his legs. 

It was a truly bizarre experience - slowly coming to it as she ran as fast as she could, clasping the hand of a near-stranger. The partying in the past was probably the closest thing to what she was currently going through. Seeing the world in brief flashes of consciousness while being dragged to a cab or a bathroom. 

It wasn’t fun then, and it wasn’t fun now. River shook her head and, with a stubborn scowl, dug her heels in the ground, coming to an abrupt stop. The movement - or, rather, the stopping of any movement - yanked Liana back, and they collided for the second time. River was fast enough to catch her, purely on instinct, and at least everyone stayed upright. 

Some were less thrilled about it than the others.

“You’re a freaking brick wall, you know that?” Liana informed her. “Also - what the fuck? Do you have a death wish or something, why are you stopping?” 

River was surprised enough to let her know that she did, actually. All of the therapists she saw, however briefly, deducted that within the first couple of sessions. But that was very much not the point. “Why are we running?” 

“Are you fucking - okay. Okay,” she watched as Liana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said for the third time, not sounding like it in the slightest. Her eyes fluttered open, almost sparkling in the dark. Gray, River noted for the first time. And, apparently, almost silver when angry. “Look at your dog.” 

River did. But mostly because she wanted to, she told herself. Mouse greeted her with his tail still tucked firmly between his legs and his little face absolutely miserable. 

“Is he normally like that?” Liana asked next to her, quietly. 

“No,” River shook her head, blinking. “No, it’s…” 

“And was that, back there, normal?” 

The orbs floated to the front of her mind, peacefully bobbing in and out of darkness. “No,” River said again, trying to swallow the overwhelming anxiety down. “No, fuck - it wasn’t. What the hell was that?”

“Oh for fuck’s… Look at me ,” cold, slender fingers grasped her chin, and River found herself staring down, into the silver. “Do I seem normal?”

A sharp jab to her ribs let her know she took longer than Liana considered to be polite, and she nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Yeah.” 

“Amazing,” Liana deadpanned. “So could you trust me for a minute longer and just move ?” She must have read something on River’s face, then, because she sighed and spoke softer. “I will explain everything, I promise, but it will have to be later because we’re so out of time, River.” 

Right on cue, Mouse let out a howl he had never let out before, and River finally reasoned that even if she didn’t trust the woman she met approximately half an hour ago, at the very least she trusted her dog. 

So she grabbed his leash, and they ran.

***

“Huh. Guess it’s relatively safe to stay in the fog as long as it’s still quiet,” Liana mused to herself as she locked the door with practiced ease. 

“ Still quiet ,” River repeated after her. “You make it sound like it’s gonna be very not quiet very soon.” 

“Wow, she can speak in full sentences,” Liana told Mouse, surprise all over her face.

“Hilarious.”

“It’s a gift.”

“I was promised an explanation.” 

One dark eyebrow rises at her. “Great social skills.” She glanced at Mouse. “Is Mommy always this grumpy around people who just saved her life?” 

The dog didn’t have an answer to that. 

“We need salt,” Liana announced.

“Right. Of course we do.” River let her pass and then followed her to the kitchen. “For the door and the windows, right? So we’re dealing with demons, it’s - there’s something demonic out there?” 

“Didn’t peg you for a Catholic,” her guest threw over her shoulder. “And no, it’s not demons. At least, not the kind you’re thinking of. Salt has a wider range than that.” 

“Good to know,” River muttered, not sure if she meant it. 

***

They settled in the living room after spilling a line of salt in front of every possible entrance and double-checking the door. First thing Liana did was close the heavy curtains. “Thank Goddess Rose had some sense,” she noticed dryly. At River’s uncomprehending glance, she elaborated: “Rose lived here before you.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “How do you know it wasn’t me who put the curtains up?” 

“Was it?” 

River huffed at Liana’s pointed gaze. “...No.” 

“Alright. Please don’t look out the window.” 

“I was not going to.” River thought of something else, then. “What happened to Rose?”

“She died,” Liana let her know shortly. She was tilting her head to the right, seemingly listening for something. River didn’t think she wanted to know what it was she was looking for. 

“Did…” She licked her lips, quickly, and struggled not to glance at the window, “did this kill her?” 

“What?” Liana barely glanced at her as she kept intently listening for something. “No, she was like ninety-something, she died in her sleep.” 

“Why did you come back for me?” River didn’t mean for the question to get out, but it did anyway.

Liana glanced at her. “Your dog was running around alone.” She picked at an invisible string on her sleeve and didn’t look River in the eye as she spoke next. “Honestly, I didn’t think there was much to come back for.” 

River was just about to feel indignant when the real meaning of Liana’s words hit her. “Oh. You mean like…” 

“Yeah, thought we’d have to come back and bury you in the morning. If there was anything left to bury.” 

“You mean I would’ve been, what? Dissolved? Dusted?” She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. That had to have been unpleasant - being reduced to particles. 

Her guest shrugged. “I don’t really know,” she admitted, and it looked like it pained her a great deal. “Sometimes people just... don’t come back. Val - she was Rose’s older sister.”

“Rose -- oh, the woman who lived here before me.” 

“Yes, great listening skills,” Liana snapped, before quickly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “I - sorry. I tend to… do that. This is a high pressure situation.” 

“I gathered,” River deadpanned. 

“Yeah. So.” She took another breath and continued. “Val just walked out there one time. The last time we ever saw her, obviously. She was calling for James - he was her husband of forty or so years. Then the fog set in, I shut the blinds, and next morning, she was gone. No body, no… remains or anything.”

River decidedly did not like the word remains. “Well, thank you for coming back,” she told Liana, earnestly. “I know I mentioned my death wish, but that’s not how I imagined I’d go out.” 

“Stop,” Liana snapped. She sighed when River shot her a startled look. “Sorry, I just mean - you shouldn’t bring up something like that. That thing out there can get in your head. You’ve seen it yourself.” 

“Right. Sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, but Liana seemed to accept it anyway as she nodded. 

For a moment, no one spoke. Liana carefully listened for something, and River just tried to keep it together and not freak out. On autopilot, she scratched at Mouse’s ears and played with his fur. The dog, it seemed, merely tolerated her touches, as if also craving some sense of normalcy as he curled up next to her, tense and anxious. 

She tried to focus on her breathing, but that just made her breathe faster, so she let her mind wander in the past. That, however, dredged up memories and feelings she was not ready to go through on her best days - much less during the night of supernatural horrors. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and forced herself to think of her perfect day. She was definitely going to have one after they made it out alive. First, she’d take a long walk with Mouse. Then they’d have breakfast - she’d even cook like she used to before, mushrooms and peppers sauteed in real butter, scrambled eggs and coffee and a perfect toast. And–

“ River? ”

“Hmm?” She shook her head and focused on Liana again, who was watching her, cautiously. “Sorry, I – zone out, sometimes, it’s… What did you say?”

“I said nothing,” Liana replied, and she looked darkly concerned as she slowly stood up. “Okay. You need to listen to me—”

“ —River .” That wasn’t Liana’s voice. It wasn’t her calling River now, and it wasn’t her calling before, since the sound came from the side of the window.

“River!”

She knew that voice. River knew that voice very well. She heard that voice almost every day for the past couple of years; heard it laugh at her jokes, heard it mock people they didn’t like, heard it ask her if she were okay, heard it shaky in-between crying hiccups as she called her in the middle of another panic attack.

She’d been dreaming of that voice for several months now, and every time she woke up, she wished she didn’t, because in the dreams, she was still there. Still alive.

“River?! River, I’m scared! What’s going on?!” came from outside the window again, and River’s heart, frozen up until now, just about burst out of her chest.

“ River. ” She blinked and looked back at her barely-invited guest. Liana was studying her with cautious eyes, as if trying to read her mind. “River, whatever it is you’re hearing right now, it’s not real. It is not real ,” she repeated, slowly.

“I…”

“River!” And just like that, it broke her. Because it’s been months, and it was so sudden and so fucking unfair and she’d been slowly falling apart ever since she got that call - a fucking phone call, can you believe that? A phone call one morning to find out your best friend, basically your little sister is dead, and—

“I’m sorry,” was all River could mutter as she sprang to her feet and bulldozed past Liana to the window. Mouse's wounded yipp barely registered in her brain. “I just need to see – I’m sorry, I just need to see her, see if it’s her, I’m sor—”

Once again, Liana proved that women with slight frames could be incredibly strong in a surprising, agile way. She tackled River just as she was about to get a glimpse outside the window, and they tumbled to the floor right under the sill.

“Look at me. River, look at me.” Even in her half-dazed half-shocked state she could hear the desperation in Liana’s voice loud and clear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you lost someone so important, but you have to believe me – it’s not them out there. They are in a much better place.”

“ River! ”

There were three things River remembered before sudden darkness: Liana’s wild, scared eyes, Mouse’s growls, and sharp pain in the back of her head. chapters 2, 3, 4 are already on patreon!