#The button accents on the shoulders were nonsensical but cute - I just like buttons

[sysig]

Striped (Patreon)

Bonus:

Obviously I bought it! The collar is Slightly odd with a stitch down the center, like a very shallow V Neck, and it’s quite big on me lol, but it’s very workable! And so soft, like you wouldn’t believe. Very comfy!

Also, pretty sure I’ve talked about this before, but here’s a refresher: I always pick up any Lalaloopsy from any second-hand shop I find them in, being out of production and so inexpensive and so cute - I’m a casual collector ♥ I never expect to see them, so I’m always so excited when they’re there! I actually managed to get three this time, not only with their original clothes, but also their shoes! (Why are they always missing their shoes?) And you’ll never guess which ones, what they were wearing:

It’s Rain E. and Storm E., with their black and white striped shirts!

We match <3 <3

[edie-baby]

Baby Boy Chapter 11 (S) | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (will be a chapter warning for that one), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

The Friday morning sun was a horrific way to be awoken from the reverie both Lando and Mila were in, tangled in each other's arms. Mila was the first to wake up, moving her head from Lando’s chest to look at the alarm clock over his shoulders, its red LEDs displaying the time as 7:18am. She had remembered hearing most of the boys complaining that they were to wake up at 8am on practice day, so she let herself relax back into Lando’s arms and revel in the warmth of his chest.

“Morning, darling.” He grumbled a few moments later, his arms shifting to intertwine one of his hands with Mila’s. She swooned at the sound of his accent mixed with the gravelly tone of his morning voice.

“G’morning baby boy.” Mila replied in a similar tone, her own voice hoarse from the screams his fingers, mouth, and cock had dragged from her throat a few hours ago. Lando smiled to himself, snuggling his nose into the crook of Mila’s neck, breathing in the familiar cherry scent that he now knew came from her body wash. Mila giggled, his hot breaths fanning out onto a sensitive part of her neck, and she squirmed slightly from the ticklish sensation when he started peppering kisses onto that same spot.

“Do you want to get breakfast with me and go for a walk before I have to do work shit?” Lando whispered, and Mila felt her heart melt at the domesticity of getting breakfast and going for a walk together with the man curled up around her body.

“Of course baby boy. But you’ll probably need to go back to your room soon in case you want everyone to see your walk of shame.” Mila teased, her eyes catching the very wrinkled button up he was wearing last night that she all but tore off his body.

“But that means leaving you, and I really don’t wanna.” Lando moaned, his bottom lip pushing out further as he gave Mila his best puppy dog eyes, and he saw them working as her resolve melted almost immediately. Mila kissed his nose lightly before rolling away from him, stepping up from the bed to amble over to her suitcase before she stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Lando with scared eyes. He sat up immediately, concerned because of the worrying look Mila sent him.

“Your walk of shame is going to be a lot less obvious than mine. I feel like someone took a jackhammer to my pussy.” Mila joked, her accent making her words sound so much more vulgar to Lando. He felt a tingle in his cock, the sight of Mila naked in front of him, complaining about how hard he had abused her cunt was the perfect thing to get him going this early in the morning. Lando stood, his half-hard member catching Mila’s eyes immediately. She smirked as he walked toward her, looking forward to their morning plans much more than she ever thought she would.

Lando’s hands scooped Mila up into a bridal carry as he walked them toward the shower. Mila stood by and watched the muscles in his back flex as he set the water temperature, and as he leant over further, his cute little ass caught Mila’s attention, and the temptation to spank him was irresistible. Lando let out a high pitched squeak when he felt the stinging sensation on his backside, head turning to see Mila watching him with a primal stare.

“I wanna ruin you.” She whispered, moving past Lando to step into the shower with a sweet smile while the Brit was frozen in place for a moment. His brain caught up and he scrambled into the large shower, being pulled in close by Mila’s manicured hands immediately.

With that same predatory smirk he had seen the first time he met her, Mila sank to her knees in front of Lando, his back to the shower head, the warm water cascading over his tense shoulders sent a shiver through his body, part of that making his cock tingle even more. Mila grabbed him with both hands, she needed to, really, he was long and he was thick. With a few lazy pumps up and down his shaft, his cock was just as hard as it had been last night, and Mila was ready to begin the torture. By her calculations, she had about 25 minutes until they would need to leave to get breakfast and still go for their walk before Lando was needed by his team. And 25 minutes was more than enough time for her to tear him down and put him back together.

With a few kitten licks to his tip, Mila started out nice. Her hands still moving up and down slowly. Lando’s hands moved toward her, one tangling in her hair while the other rubbed along her cheekbone with adoration. She stopped immediately, withdrawing completely from the tanned man standing above her. Her hands fell to her thighs, eyes staring up at him through her lashes, the hickeys he left on her last night clearly visible in their position.

Lando looked down at her confusedly, then Mila reached up and tugged his hands away, the smirk returning when the gears in his head began processing.

“Gotta keep your hands to yourself, baby boy.” Mila growled, the command shooting even more blood to Lando’s cock, and similarly to Mila, he didn’t know he’d enjoy being told what to do this much. He listened though, hands leaving her form and sliding onto the tiled walls of the shower. Mila smirked in satisfaction, the naturally red hue of her lips just as tantalising as the iconic maroon lipstick.

Her hands and lips returned to Lando, her tongue catching the bead of precum leaking from his tip, the veins running along his cock throbbing in her hand. Delicately, Mila traced each vein she could see with her tongue, leaving the thick, throbbing vein on the underside of his cock for last, flattening her tongue and applying more pressure than she had so far. A strangled moan reverberated through Lando’s chest and fell from his lips with a blush. Mila looked up into his eyes, taking in the broken expression on Lando’s face, his cheeks flushed with frustration and embarrassment, his eyes half lidded staring back down at her, jaw tense, his teeth gnawing into his bottom lip. She could tell how much self restraint it was taking for him not to grab her by the hair and fuck her face till he blew his load down her throat. So, she rewarded him.

With a breath in through her nose, Mila wrapped her lips around his cock, pushing herself down until he was almost fully consumed by her mouth and throat. His eyes widened, hands shaking in their attempt to stay on each wall of the shower. Mila’s eyes watered slightly, her jaw was beginning to ache, but she ran her tongue around as much of Lando’s cock as she could reach, then began pulling away, her hands on his toned thighs to steady herself. Her tongue continued to roll around his length, continuing its ministrations when she reached the head, her hands taking the place where her mouth just was, running up and down his shaft, twisting on the way.

The next time she looked up at Lando, his jaw was slack, eyes closed as he looked up toward the ceiling, his expression reading purely bliss. Milana continued her actions, putting her all into pleasuring him, until she felt his hips buck slightly, his cock hitting the back of her throat. Instead of gagging, like Lando had expected, Mila pulled off him again, glaring up at him in a way that made his stomach erupt in butterflies. With slower, more purposeful movements, Mila began stroking him again, the contrast between being so close to finishing, to right back at the start gave Lando whiplash worse than his car ever could. He stared down at her with eyes just as hard, hands itching with the desire to grab her by the throat and fuck her till all she remembered was his name. But just as his hands began moving toward her, she took all of him in her mouth again, swallowing around him and staring directly into his eyes. He grunted, a deep, guttural grunt that had her whimpering around his cock. He felt himself twitch and Mila picked up the pace in response. His breaths were coming out in gasps, hips twitching in place, and just as his vision began to go white, it all stopped.

A whimper fell from his lips, and he was surprised at the sound as much as Mila was pleased with it. He looked back down to her, his aching dick in her small hands, the tip a dark, angry red. Mila couldn’t seem more pleased, staring at his cock like she was a woman starved. Just as Lando was about to begin begging, she took him in her mouth again, working with a renewed vigor. Lando’s moans were broken, crackly, and coming out of his mouth sounding more like breathless whimpers as his pleasure built, coming to his peak again. This time, when his hips began stuttering, nonsense falling from his lips, Mila continued, stuffing his cock as far down as she could handle, her nose brushing his pubic bone when he finally released, hot ropes of salty cum shooting down her throat, and Mila continued swallowing around him, pulling everything she could from him. She pulled off his cock with a pop, a delighted smile crossing her face as Lando looked on, broken and blissed. She slid around him in the shower, getting under the water to wet her hair, then grabbed some shampoo and began washing her silver hair, teasing eyes staring at Lando while his eyes darkened.

“Come on baby boy, we better get showered and ready to go or we won’t be able to go for a walk.” Mila teased, washing the shampoo from her hair and stepping out, wrapping the impossibly fluffy towel around her form, leaving Lando in the shower for the second time in a matter of about twelve hours.

[alecxaheart]

Someone's Someone | Bang Chan Oneshot (1)

✎ Genre : CEO AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 3.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all just wanna be someone's someone that we can't live without. At this time, Chan was looking for his. And unexpectedly, he was already tied down to someone.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎. . . I actually just played my songs on shuffle then Monsta X's Someone's Someone played so.. yeah, I'm inspired. Also, this is my first post in tumblr btw. :)

✎ Parts : 1 , 2

The relaxing sounds of nature enveloped him as a whole. His shoulders less tense and eyes closed as he sat on the cooled sand, facing the burning star and calm waters ahead. Seagulls could be heard in the distance as they caught themselves a dinner to eat. The refreshing cool wind hit his body, slightly making him shiver for a second. Waves, created by the sea and wind, kisses the shore repeatedly. For once, he was far away from worries, stress, fears and regrets. Just him, contented with the company of nature.

As he fluttered his eyes open, he was met with a stunning view of the sun meeting the ocean. The ocean reflecting the sun's visuals as well as the sky above it. Even though the reflection was blurry, it's still pleasing to the eye. Just perfectly imperfect.

However in his opinion, it wasn't stunning as it seems. This secret escapade paradise of his doesn't quite appeal to him yet. A missing piece that could be anywhere on this wide world. That thought kind of bothers him every time.

Sighing, he figured that it was time to go back. He slipped onto his slippers and headed out of his escapade paradise with a head hung low. Hopping on an enormous boulder that happened to break the wired fence and fixated there, having easier access to and from the place than climbing over the fence.

With a last glance towards his escapade, he knew he'll be coming back and that next time will be the scenery he's been looking for, hopefully.

Frustrated with the task at hand, Chan ran his fingers through his blonde locks as he leaned back on his chair and head facing upwards toward the ceiling. Taking a brief break from a whole 6 hours straight of writing and staring at the monitor. Followed by him grabbing his coffee and taking a sip, eyes boring on the monitor. He was just half finished with his paperworks at the time of nightfall, which made him more in distress and felt crammed.

His eyes then wandered around his office, landing onto the view of the opposite building of his company in the end. Where he could see the workers of the Marketing Department bidding their goodbyes to one another, closing the lights and exiting the room. Oh, how much he too wanted to leave and rest right at this moment. Although his belief of 'getting things done before going into slumber' is preventing him to do so (even though he already got a lot of things done). With a sigh, he faced back in front of his monitor and papers, determined to get everything done before tomorrow starts.

" Sunbae-nim, aren't you coming with us? We're having dinner at the Chicken & Barbecue restaurant just a block away from here. " Seungmin asked, grabbing his suitcase below his desk. You leaned back on your chair while stretching your cramping arms and a yawn escaping your mouth.

" As much as I want to, Seungmin, I can't, " You started, rubbing your temples to ease your aching head. " Because our new boss literally gave me 5 thick documents to finish before tomorrow morning without any mercy. And that's just bullshit. I don't even think I'm halfway through it! " Seungmin replied with a chuckle to your short rant, an amused expression written on his soft face. You were having another small mental breakdown as you stared at your unfinished pile of work, feeling your soul escape your body.

" I think you're overreacting. "

" Well, what if I am?! "

Laughing, Seungmin leans his side on your cubicle, looking over at your messy desk filled with sticky notes, papers and pens. " I don't think it's that much. You're lucky that your boss isn't here to hear any of your complaints, " He muttered as he took a peek at one of your documents. You scoffed, not my fault that I'm not as good as you.

" Hear what? "

Frantically, you immediately hide yourself behind your cubicle and pretend that you were focusing on your work. On the other hand, Seungmin casually brushed his navy blue coat with his palms and lifted himself off from the cubicle. Making it all seem like nothing happened.

" Oh, it's nothing, Ms. Ka- " Seungmin paused as he met the owner of the voice who wasn't the person they were expecting to be there. " M-Mr. Bang?! " He stuttered, eyes widened at the blonde headed CEO. Seeing in the corner of your eyes, Seungmin bowed ninety degrees at him as a sign of respect. Even with his heated glare on you, you continued your work like no CEO even entered. Thanks to your cute height, for sure you wouldn't be spotted.

" What are you doing here? Working hours are done. "

Seungmin stood straight and scratched the back of his head. Curiosity slowly arose in you as seconds passed - since you've never met a CEO called by your colleague as ' Mr. Bang ' - although as much as possible, you didn't let go out of hand and kept your focus on the documents silently. The least thing you wanted to happen to you right now is get caught by one of the company's CEO. " I was about to head out, Mr. Bang, " Finding an excuse, he pulled up his sleeve to check the time on his wristwatch. " Uhm.. Yeah, I'm late for dinner. Sorry, Mr. Bang, I have to leave right now. Have an great night! "

With a last bow to the CEO, Seungmin dashed his way out of the building, leaving you alone with your work. The blonde head noticed how the room was still lit up despite it being unoccupied, which he thought. Heading to the switches, everything around you darkened. The only source of light you had was the monitor, and Chan caught it in the corner of his eye.

" Is someone still there? " His voice, catching a bit of foreign accent with it, echoed in the hushed area.

Baffled as he approached that light with a few slow strides, you freaked out mentally. Swiftly but silently, you left your chair and hid yourself underneath the desk next to yours. As he neared your cubicle, you held your breath, slowly starting to feel lightheaded. You don't know what are the consequences if you get caught after working hours since you're still kind of new - got hired just 5 months ago. Dumb you overthink random shit first before even going to the thing called 'common sense' and the rules you heard just goes in one ear then out on the other.

The moment Chan was about to reach your cubicle and take a glance to his right, the sound of marimba playing a soft tune echoed in the room. Stopping in his tracks, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and grabbed it, swiping to the right to answer the call. You let out a hushed yet shaky sigh of relief, your shoulders less tense than a while ago. In your mind played a chant, thanking whoever was your savior.

Chan narrowed his eyes at the back of your cubicle while his phone is still pressed against his ear, listening to the person on the other line's complaints. " I'm on my way. Don't do anything stupid, " Not too soon you hear heels clacking against the polished marble tiles, the noise fainting as he left the room.

It took you a good couple of seconds to get out of your hiding spot (since you had to catch your breath and calm your heart down from the thrill), slightly shaking your whole body first before heading back to your seat and continuing your pile of work. Mentally groaning at yourself.

Oh. My. Gosh. These. Eyebags.

Is the first thing you thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The cause of it appearing badly because you obviously lacked sleep. All due to the time allotted for slumber was consumed by finishing your 5 thick documents that will be passed this morning. You could've cared less if today wasn't a work day, which fortunately for you it was still work day and these damn documents aren't gonna pass themselves to your boss this instant.

Fumbling around in your bag, you found your makeup kit and started fixing yourself. A little bit of touch ups here and there, just a little to look like it's still more natural than a lot to look like a plastic doll barbie.

Once satisfied, you smiled sweetly at yourself just to start your day nicely and exit your household. While walking on your way to the train station, incoherent mumbling leaves your mouth. A train of thoughts clouding you about your worries if you've left something important behind. In all honesty despite of your current good looks, you look stupid or crazy for talking to yourself in public. Well, at least you aren't as worse as someone yelling nonsense.

" I have all my files, identification card, phone, wallet, pocket knife 'cause anything could happen, keys- " you paused as soon as you misplaced your shoes at the edge of the last stair, falling forward. Luckily for you, you caught yourself and regained your balance. Wide eyed, you saw a kid, a giddy smile plastered on his face as he saw your commotion with a lollipop in hand. You felt embarrassed but laughed it off anyway, a light tint of pink decorating your cheeks.

You rushed towards the gates as soon as you realized the time with the card in between your fingers. Three beeps emitted from the machine when the gates opened after you placed the card on the scanner. With a few more strides, you caught up to your train ride as it was about to leave. You sighed in relief and sat down on a vacant bench, head automatically leaning back on the window. Your eyes boring at the ceiling while taking steady breaths after your short marathon on the way.

On the other hand, across you sat Chan. His right leg crossed over the other while scrolling through his phone. He wore a button up shirt, the first two still unbuttoned revealing more of his chest. His navy blue tie hung loose around his neck while his coat is still folded around his arm. His slacks were the same color as his tie and coat and wore black pointed shoes to finish the statement of his overall clothing. Blonde hair locks were scattered around his face but still managed to look stunning and attractive.

You haven't noticed his presence, so did he to you, and the fact that you both don't know each others' appearance even though you go to the same company just adds to the reason for you two's ignorance to one another's existence.

You got yourself to go back to slumber comfortably in your current position although you know when you wake up, you'll be greeted by your neck aching. Hopefully you don't miss your stop while gaining more sleep. The train swaying you lightly from time to time that you found quite relaxing, like a cradle rocking back and forth lightly to put a baby to sleep.

A child was running around the train with a joyful smile, giggling. He only stopped in his tracks when he reached in between you and Chan. His eyes glowed like there were stars decorated around his chocolate brown pupil when he eyed you two. Looking around, he spotted a roll of red thread underneath your bench and grabbed it. He thought it was just right.

With you being the closest, he starts to tie the thread around your pinky finger. You were too tired to even feel his small cold fingers run around your fingers nor the string tighten around it. Once done, he smiled to himself, his dimples appearing on either side of his cheeks and eyes forming into small crescents.

He left your side and skipped over in front of Chan, who was now too deep in thought as he gazed outside the window and his phone tucked in his pocket. Holding the other end of the thread, he wrapped it around Chan's thumb. Chan's body shook in surprise as he felt cold fingers ghosting above his hand and averted his attention to the child. He saw him knotting the red string tightly, strange that he barely even feels the string tightened around his thumb. " What are you doing? " he questioned although the child only responded with a bright smile, followed by a giggle.

The child turned and ran away from him, more giggles leaving his lips. Chan stood up and tried to chase him. But stopped as soon as he saw the child in the distance, dissolving into little particles in thin air and completely vanished in his sight. In disbelief, he rubbed his eyes and looked for the child around his area. Thinking that he was out of his mind, he sighed in defeat. There's no way anyone could do that in reality. It's either I'm insane or living in a fantasy or a chosen one blessed to see ghosts. Maybe, all of the above.

Chan looked down on his thumb, following where the other end lead to. Then, he spotted your sleeping beauty state, the other end attached to your pinky finger. With the sun rising in the horizon, a ray of gold-like light shines through the window, casting a shadow on you. And he thought you looked mesmerizing like that, peaceful and lovely. At least he wasn't tied up with a bitch or a hag.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as the sun shined upon you. Squinting at its brightness, you raised a hand above your eyes to see more, only finding a red string wrapped around your pinky finger. You examined it, wondering what prank is anyone even planning and why did it have to involve you out of all people. Before anything stupid could happen, you attempted to loose the knot, ignoring the curiosity for a while of where the other end was. Looping and tugging it, even tried to chomp on it with your teeth, but all attempts failed. Well, that's until you gave up, untying it was impossible, unbelievably there's a knot that couldn't be untied. Sounded like marriage when you think about it, but there's the annulment and divorce ruining the picture.

Tearing your gaze at the string, you caught a pair of bewitching dark brown eyes staring back at you. In that particular moment, everything just froze in place. Time has stopped just for the two of you, you thought.

You felt your heart melting, probably from the warmth emitting in your body or from the warmth his eyes give off as you saw little sparks decorating the pupil. Unfamiliar light feathers tickling the insides of your stomach is what you felt other than the heat and that thawing heart of yours. Your mind knew it well that you shouldn't feel this way towards someone who you just met but your body and heart reacted so differently. There's just something about him that made you feel so exposed and vulnerable in his eyes that you couldn't come up with a possible answer to your 'why's.

Both of you didn't notice how seconds turned into minutes, too lost into one another's orbs. That was until the train stopped, causing Chan to break the eye contact and lose his balance. Before his hands made contact on the metal floor, he took a step forward in order to regain his balance which he successfully did. A small chuckle left your lips, eyes turning into crescents as you saw the commotion. He narrowed his eyes at you as the train was back in motion.

Chan fixed his clothes first before asking, " Who are you? ". Grabbing the pole next to him to prevent him from falling again on the next stop.

" Shouldn't I be asking you that as well? " You replied with a gummy smile, which quickly faded when you remembered what's the problem.

" What is this on my finger and why is it connected to yours? What kind of trickery is anyone pulling? Why am I involved in this? " You kept firing questions at him while he stayed there unbothered. Unlike you who did some more attempts to remove the thread, silly you even tried aggressively shaking your hand in hopes of making it a little loose. But no prevail happened once again.

" Just get rid of it. I didn't want this too, you know. " Chan taps his foot impatiently as he eyed your useless attempts.

" I am trying! " You exaggerated. Deciding to bring out the best tool you have for the situation in hand, your hands fumbling in your bag. Once you felt the cool metal on your fingertips, you brought it out and flipped it open.

Chan's eyes widened at the sight of the pocket knife in your palms. " You carry that on a daily basis? Are you insane? "

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. " It's not insane when it's used for self-defense purposes. I'm too nice to be the murderer you're assuming, " You replied, head throbbing as things aren't going well with the charming blonde.

He responded just before the blade and thread were in contact, starting with a scoff. " Yeah sure, nice. Anyone can wear that façade anywhere. "

" You know what, " You started as you withdrew the pocket knife back and glared at him afterwards, pissed off. " You deal with this shit yourself, I'm done with my part and I could care less about this red thread anyway. You look like you don't need any of my help 'cause you look fancier than me and it seems like you're not taking any gratitude towards my kindness. Damn these crazy rich people. " You threw the tool towards his direction and looked away from him, arms crossed. Chan instinctively caught it without getting any cuts despite the fact it's closed, his eyes burning through your figure in fury.

" If I actually got wounded instead from your little stunt, I would've sued you this instant, " He growled, only to be ignored by you.

Irritated by your sudden change of attitude, Chan flipped it open and skillfully ran the blade through the string. Only for it to just fall through like the string never existed, ghost-like perhaps. " It's not cutting, what the hell, " Chan muttered under his breath as he tried a few more times again.

"It's just a string, how could a- " You spoke as you turned your head back to his direction, only to be cutted off as you witnessed the unusual. Mouth a little bit agape in disbelief. The thread didn't fall apart even while the blade was just sitting in between of it on air. Maybe that explains why you could barely even feel the thread wrapped securely around your finger. You could tell that this stunning blonde head was just as puzzled as you were.

" Sir, if you're having any problems that includes this woman, we can sort it out. Just withdraw the knife first please, " a man suddenly blurted out, his voice a little bit shaky. That's when you realized the commotion you both have caused, everyone around you two took steps back away. All had fear in their eyes.

" Wait, you don't see the thread we're trying to cut? " Chan questioned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. At that, he was more misunderstood.

" There's no thread..? " With that, it got the two of us surprised. Is the crazy one here them, who couldn't see this string, or us, who could?

Chan tried to explain our situation thoroughly but when he was about to speak up, out of the blue, a voice spoke in the speakers. " Please mind the gap, " You immediately grabbed his arm, carried his belongings and dragged him out of the train. Leaving its passengers confused as they eyed us. They might be thinking that you two are idiots.

The doors just shut a second later when you two got out. You felt a bit suffocated for an unknown reason, your hand reaching for your chest where you could feel your heart beating. Panting, you shoved Chan's belongings into his chest. " Are you alright? " He asked as he tried to place a hand on your back, the least thing he could do to comfort you.

But his hand only stopped in mid-air when you took your last deep breath, replying. " Let's just part ways here, " Saying those words felt a bit disheartening at some point, yet you chose to disregard it.

You walked forwards, while Chan stayed in his position, wearing his coat and fixing his tie. Although, something stopped you. As in you couldn't go forwards as much as you force to. Well when you did force yourself, it only tugged Chan towards you. Turning around, he was already eyeing you. " What was that for?! "

Glaring at the thread, you thought out loud, " Is this string telling me, it can only stretch itself approximately at 7 meters?! "

Continue

[lu-undy]

Chapter 55 - SBT

Here it is!

"Uh… Spook?" 

"Oui?" 

"I-I'd need to go to my van to get some clothes…"

Both men finished bathing. Mundy followed Lucien from the bathroom to the bedroom, each wearing nothing but a towel around their waists. 

"Nonsense. I will lend you some clothes for the night."

"For the night?" Mundy asked. 

"Unless you would rather go back to your van but-"

"No, I'd… I'd love to stay actually."

Their eyes met and they exchanged a smile. 

"Glad to hear it. Now, which color do you prefer, navy blue, light blue, Burgundy red or off-white?"

Overwhelmed by the choice, Mundy went for the last one he heard. 

"Off-white?"

"Interesting choice." Lucien passed him some pyjamas and a pair of underwear.

Mundy took them and realised it was a shirt and a pair of trousers, made of satin and matching of course. They had motifs of branches and leaves of fern sewn in, in white cotton. Lucien opted for the Burgundy one with golden sewn flower motifs. 

Each of them turned their back to the other and dressed up. Lucien was the first to finish, he turned to Mundy and heard him mumble and curse under his breath. 

"What is it, mon loup?"

[my wolf]

"It's the bloody buttons, I can't get them right, I always mess them up…"

"Let me help." Lucien moved in front of Mundy and did the buttons. "If you have any difficulty, start from the bottom and go to the top."

"Why would it be easier that way?" Mundy asked. "Doesn't make sense, does it?"

"But it does. The buttons at the bottom you can see easily, whereas the ones at the top are right under this lovely chin of yours." Lucien tickled it gently as he finished and Mundy chuckled. 

"Thanks…" 

"My pleasure."

Mundy looked down at himself. 

"Uh… We might have a problem, Spook?"

"What?" Lucien went to sit on the bed, with his back against the wall. 

"Well look at me…" Mundy wiggled his shoulders and pulled down the end of the shirt. "The sleeves are too short, and look down, the legs too! And if you don't mind, I'll open the buttons cause it's too tight on my shoulders."

"I would be an utter fool to complain when you want to sleep with your shirt open, Mundy."

"N-no, I mean, it's not like that, it's just your shirt's too small for me… Also, wait, what? You want me to sleep here?"

"Unless you prefer the rusticity of your campervan…" Lucien raised an eyebrow and Mundy shrugged. 

"Ok, I get it… But this time, don't take all the blanket, alright?" 

Mundy took the other side of the bed and both slid under the duvet.

"Me?! You were the one to steal it all night long and I had to pull it off your limbs!"

"As if…" Lucien answered and he stopped when the door to the bedroom creaked. 

"Meow." 

Perle trotted to the bed and jumped to climb on it. 

"Perle, mon bébé, you should really sleep in your bed tonight."

"Meow?" 

"Cause your dad wants me to sleep with him." Mundy answered and she went under his fingers. Yes, Papa knew how to choose his companion wisely, the scratching was divine.

"Meow…" She answered, disappointed, but started purring under the delightful head scratches.

"Don't worry, kitty cat, I'll take care of him. I'll keep him warm and safe, alright?" 

"Meow?" 

"O'course you can say goodnight to him, you'd better do it actually, he might be pissed off if you don't, eh." 

Perle went to Lucien and climbed his shirt to settle on his shoulder. He hugged her and kissed her repeatedly, saying sweet nonsense that Mundy could hardly understand. 

"Bonne nuit, mon bébé, fais de beaux rêves." 

[Good night, my baby, sweet dreams.]

He kissed her fur and put her down on the floor next to his side of the bed. To his greatest surprise, she climbed in her little cosy basket and curled into a ball of fur. 

When Lucien came back to lie down in the bed, Mundy wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to himself. 

"Ah, here we go for the clingy kangaroo."

"Oh alright then…!" Mundy let go of his lover and turned his back to Lucien. 

"Non, mon amour, please…!" The Frenchman spooned him and laced his arms around him. "Please turn to me…"

"The clingy kangaroo says no." 

"Mundy, please…" Lucien begged as he brushed his skin under his lover's open shirt. 

The Aussie melted. Hearing Lucien beg him to give him attention was something that his mind barely managed to understand. He rolled on his side to hold him back. 

"Right, right…" 

Lucien hummed happily as he buried his head against Mundy's hairy chest, lovingly. The Aussie closed his arms around him and held him close. 

"Gosh I never imagined I'd feel all this one day."

"Feel what?" 

"Wantin' to hug someone that badly." 

"I feel that for you too." Lucien answered as Mundy made sure the blanket was around him properly. 

"Oh-?" The Aussie blushed when he felt Lucien kiss his chest. 

"Ticklish?" Lucien asked. 

"Surprised." Mundy answered. 

"Is it too much?" 

"N-no. It's just… I didn't expect that." 

Lucien stopped and just cuddled with the taller man. They both appreciated the warmth, the fingers exploring each other's silhouettes, the hands sliding on clothes and skin.

"Lu'?"

"Hm?" 

"I feel weird right now…"

"Why?"

"I love you."

"And that makes you feel weird?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah… I mean… It's been a few days since, y'know, you told me that you liked me and I liked you and…"

"Oui?"

"I haven't left your side for those past few days. It's weird. Spent years on my own and I never liked people. Now, I can't get enough of you."

Lucien smiled against Mundy's chest. 

"It's weird…" Mundy repeated. 

"You are thinking about it in a weird way." Lucien answered. 

"What d'you mean?"

"I do understand what you mean of course, as I have gone through a similar… sentimental desert for years."

"You haven't tried to get anyone?" Mundy asked. 

"Non. I couldn't get her out of my head."

Mundy looked for Lucien's hand under the blanket and when he found it, he slid his fingers between the Frenchman's. 

"What's her name?"

"Mary but I always would call her with my French accent 'Marie'."

"Mary…" Mundy repeated. "What's she like?" 

Lucien grinned as he reopened the most colourful chapter of his life in his mind. 

"She was charming, in her own way, and I never thought I could fall for a woman like her. She was American, she lived in Boston. I met her there as she worked as a waiter in a diner, similar to the one Victoria works for."

"Ah, I see." 

"She had black hair that would hardly touch her shoulders. She would always wear a headband that matched her outfit. My favourite one was her blue dress, it enhanced the colour of her eyes."

"She had blue eyes?"

"Oui. Darker than mine and lighter than yours. She was about… half a foot shorter than me and the curves of her body were proof of the existence of God…"

"What d'you mean?" 

"She had a slim waist and beautiful hips, oh… She had the most feminine silhouette."

"Have any pictures of her?"

Lucien frowned. 

"You would want to see her?" 

"If that's ok with you. I mean, if it hurts or anythin', you don't have to."

"I just fail to understand why you would like to. Wouldn't it make you feel uncomfortable? Actually, perhaps it was foolish of me to talk about her at all…" Lucien rubbed his face with a hand and frowned. "I shouldn't have."

"No, I was the one to ask, I mean, if you don't mind…?" 

Lucien sighed. 

"Fine, give me an instant." He got off the bed and Mundy watched him go out of the room. He thought that he might have pushed too far and his mind pictured Lucien locked up in the bathroom crying of grief, or anything worse maybe?

But no, Lucien re-appeared and sat back on the bed, his back against the wall. Mundy sat up next to him. 

"Your cigs case?" 

Lucien nodded as he opened the metallic case containing the nicely lined cigarettes. He pushed them slightly and retrieved the photograph hidden behind them. It wasn't facing him, but rather was turned such that Lucien needed to flip it to see it. 

"Here." He took it away from the cigarette case delicately without flipping it, and handed it to Mundy. 

"Can I see?" 

"Oui." 

Mundy flipped it. 

"Oh… It's… her with…"

"Jérémy, my son, and myself."

The black and white photograph showed the three of them. Lucien, Mary and young Jérémy in the middle. Lucien was lacing his arm around Mary's hips, and she was resting her hands on Jérémy's shoulders as he smiled to the camera. The Frenchman was wearing a white shirt and dark trousers but no tie or vest. Mary was wearing a dress with a headband of the same shade of grey and Jérémy had a baseball jacket that seemed a bit too large for him.

"You three look cute in this picture. And wow, you look quite younger too."

"No grey hair and not a single worry in the world." Lucien answered.

"Why d'you keep this picture upside down?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"Because I am a heavy smoker as you know, and it is too hard to see them all the time. I keep them close to my heart, but I cannot afford to look at them. It is too strong, even after all this time."

"Right, I see. Any other pictures you have, or did you leave them in France?" Mundy asked as he gave the picture back.

"They are indeed in France but not in my possession."

"What d'you mean, 'not in your possession'?" 

"I…" Lucien thought fast. He didn't want anyone to know about this but Mundy was surely the last man he was speaking to, so he might as well confess all his sins. "After Marie and Jérémy passed, I gathered all evidence of their existence, and all proof that I once was happy. Any photographs and souvenirs I put in a box and on a rainy night, I went to a park in Paris."

Mundy frowned. 

"The rain was pouring on me and my clothes, drenching me to the bone. I could feel my suit sticking to my skin and all my hair was soaked. I picked the lock on the gate of that park and entered it. I walked such that I was sufficiently deep in and at some point I dropped to my knees, in the muddy grass. I took my knife out and started digging a hole with it and with my hands."

Mundy's jaw started to lower down. He could guess where it was all going. 

"When the hole was sufficiently big, I lowered the box in it. The rain drops falling on it made an unbearable drumming noise. I then put the dirt back on top of it and made it look like any other mole hole."

"Holy…" 

"All of what I was before is in that box which to this day lies under the ground in Paris." Lucien summed up. "I guess you surely think that I am a fool for this. But I don't want to keep secrets anymore, especially not with you."

Mundy pulled Lucien to himself and hugged him. 

"No. You're not crazy. I… After my parents went away, I put my rifles, bullets, bow and arrows, everything in a large tin crate and buried it in the middle of the desert. I prayed each day that I forgot where it was so that I can't go back to it. I'd learned my lesson. With a rifle in my hands I can not only kill the bloke in my scope, but also all the other people that I don't see when I scope. So yeah, I took everything, tossed it in a box and ditched it far from anyone and anything." 

Lucien snuggled against Mundy. 

"We both did the same then." He said. 

"Yeah. We both tried." 

"And look where it led us." Lucien said as both sank down to lie on the bed and intertwined their limbs together again. 

"I dug up my rifles again." 

"And I went back to three-piece suits and balaclavas." 

Both sighed. 

"But it's the last time we do that, right?" Mundy asked. 

"Oui. This is it, the final job."

Mundy was lying on his side with Lucien tightly between his arms, his head against the Aussie's chest, under his jaw. 

"Love you, Lu'. Love you more and more." 

"So do I." 

Mundy lowered his head and kissed Lucien's still slightly damp hair. 

"Mh, merci, mon loup."

[Thank you, my wolf.]

And those were the last few words they exchanged before falling asleep in each other's arms.

The minutes and hours hands spun, sweeping past the clock's face and soon the sun rose again.

"Mh… Lu'... What are you doing… Stop it… Let me sleep, please…" 

"Meow."

Mundy opened his eyes. 

He thought Lucien was playing with his hair on his face again but no, it was actually Perle brushing herself on Mundy's face. 

"Baby cat…" He hugged her and kissed her, looking over to Lucien who was still sleeping giving his back to him. 

"D'you think we should wake your Dad up?" 

Perle purred and stretched under the rough fingers and the exquisite scratches all along her back. 

"D'you want to wake him or…?" 

"Meow." She answered and rolled to offer her belly for Mundy to scratch. 

"Right, I'll do it myself then, but you need to leave, Pearl."

"Meow?" 

"Cause it's not a sight for kids. You'll understand when you grow up."

"Meow…" 

"No, you're still a baby, look at your big head and massive eyes. Also, your tail is very short."

"Meow!" She answered. 

"Yes, it is. Now, here," He kissed her and rolled on the bed until he was at the edge to drop her on the floor. "Go and play while you wait for me to wake Papa up, ok?" 

"Meow." She brushed herself on his hand one last time and trotted out of the room. 

"Right, now, to us…" Mundy got closer to Lucien and if his first thought was to spoon him, the temptation to kiss him overwhelmed the man and laced his arms around Lucien to kiss his back, on his satin shirt. He shifted closer to stick his body to the Frenchman. 

"Someone is happy to hug me…" The voice with the French accent sung and Mundy blushed. "Very happy, hm? Unless you keep a dagger in your underwear at all times." 

"Uh, n-no, I mean, it's just that, uh, I just woke up, ok? Sorry…" Mundy shifted away from Lucien's body but the Frenchman pulled his arms to make him come back. 

"When did you hear me complain about it?" He asked and Mundy came back right behind him with his happiness of the morning very much stuck to the Frenchman. 

"Sorry…" 

"Mmh… Don't apologise, there is no harm done. How did you sleep?" Lucien asked, revelling in his lover's arms. 

"Yeah, good. Didn't have nightmares but didn't dream about you either. Could be worse and could be better." 

"Hm? Have you ever dreamt about me?" Lucien asked. 

"Y-n-no, I mean, I might have, once or twice, maybe, ahem, anyway, did you have a good night?" 

Lucien smiled. He understood his lover's uneasiness at the question. 

"Oui, I have slept well, and woke up in the arms of the man I usually dream of, day and night."

"Oh, so you dream of me sometimes?" Mundy asked.

"Of course. My mind shows me images that my mouth can barely speak of."

"Why? Is it nightmares?" Mundy asked, oblivious.

"Quite the opposite, Mundy. In fact, there are hardly any dreams more pleasant than those…"

"Oh." Mundy now caught on what Lucien was meaning. "Right, ok, wow! I'll uh…" He pushed the blanket away from him. 

"Are you hot this morning?" 

"W-well, yeah, a bit, I mean, it's what you said, it's like you're meaning that you dream about-"

"Oui, I do." Lucien cut him. "I did and I still do with my eyes wide open, Mundy." 

He rolled to face the Aussie and sensually ran the tip of his fingers on his stomach and sides. 

"Gosh…"

Shivers everywhere and Mundy shut his eyes, frowning. Then, Lucien's lips on his chest, kissing softly, nipping here and there, up to his neck, under his jaw. Mundy's fingers were twitching on their own, they were lost, paralysed. Lucien finally arrived on Mundy's lips. He kissed them slowly, taking his time to appreciate each contact, each time he pressed his thin lips against the sharpshooter's, as he ran his fingers behind Mundy's back. 

Without consciously realising it, Mundy slid his hands on Lucien's slim cheeks and kissed back, passionately, his legs stretching and his toes curling under the blanket. He felt Lucien slither his legs between his.

"Gosh, Lu'..."

The Frenchman smirked and buried his head in Mundy's neck, nibbling softly there as his hands glided down Mundy's back, lower and lower until...

"Oh-?!" Mundy got startled at Lucien's sudden grasp for softness.

"Sorry, it was way too tempting." Lucien whispered in Mundy's ear.

"Yeah, nah, it's fine, it's just… I didn't expect it." Mundy lowered his head and kissed Lucien's hair. He shyly whispered. "Can I do the same to you?"

"I'm all yours." 

Mundy's hands slithered down Lucien's satin, dark red pyjamas until they reached the bottom of his back. 

"You sure?" 

"Please." 

Mundy timidly slid his palms lower and didn't see Lucien roll his eyes in bliss when the Aussie grasped the softness of the situation. 

"You have wonderful hands." Lucien purred.

"Oh, uh, ok, I don't know…"

"Do with me what you wish." Lucien snuggled closer to Mundy, sticking his chest and abdomen to the Aussie. 

"Oh, God…" Mundy realised that Lucien too was happy to wake up next to him. The surprise of it made his hands twitch and squeezed what they held for an instant. 

"Oh!" 

"Shit, sorry!" Mundy removed his hands.

"Non… It was delightful." Lucien's voice was begging for more without the words.

"C-can I-?"

"Oui."

"But you don't know what I was going to say?" Mundy chuckled. 

"Whatever you want to do," Lucien raised his head to Mundy. Their eyes met and Lucien pushed Mundy's long hair away from his face. 

"Please, do it." 

[themangoyogurt]

Misguided Youth: The Second Misunderstanding

Chapter 2

It was time to atone for the sins of last night, and that meant having to face the mysterious man who both infuriated and intrigued you. And to make things harder, it turns out that his friends were the type to meddle. 

It was time to atone for the sins of your past. Rolling over onto your side, you heaved into a waiting trash can. You felt like shit - both physically and emotionally. You hated being that friend, and Jyn already had enough issues in her life without you being one of them. Making yet another mental promise to get your act together, you reached over to your side table to text her an apology.

Somehow Jyn had been able to deposit your body into bed, and the saint had not only left some aspirin next to a bottle of water, but had also made sure to charge your iPhone. Checking your messages, you almost dropped the device in shock.

General Hux | 9:39 PM | Where the fuck are you asshole?

Big Titz | 11:42 PM | Kyloooo. Come fuck me.

Phasma | 11: 45 PM | Hux said you got your ass handed to you by a girl.

Phasma | 11:46 PM | It is now my life’s mission to meet her.

Big Titz | 11:58 PM | I’ll let you cum in my mouth.

You dropped the phone in disgust. Of course the man from last night would be type to just input “Big Titz” instead of an actual name. What a douche. You’d rather just chuck the damn thing out the window, but unfortunately you’d need it as collateral to get your own phone back. You seriously needed to stop drinking so much. After all, it wasn’t like you had the stamina from undergrad anymore.

Sitting up with your chin perched atop your knees, you tried to shake the demons out of your mind. You were so lost - scared to admit that you only signed up for grad school because you weren’t sure what to do with your life. All you knew was that in the blink of an eye, it seemed like all of your high school buddies were getting married left and right. Doing adult things like joining book clubs, having kids, and arguing over paint chips at Home Depot.

You took one look at the scene and promptly thought “fuck that”.

You parents had been lackluster at best. On bad days, they found amusement in belittling your passions and thoughts. On good days, you were simply ignored. The moment 18 years rolled by, you were swiftly out the door with a one way ticket to New York City. You swore that nobody could ever convince you to have kids. Just in case you were a shit mom and perpetuated the cycle of neglect and pain.

Why did you even bother thinking about your parents? Now you were going to be in a crap mood for the rest of the day. As if on cue, the cosmos decided to add fuel to the fire when you phone number lit up on the glass screen.

Sighing, you picked up with a lazy, “Hello?”

“Is this the bitch who stole my phone last night?”

You immediately swept your feet to the side of your bed to stand up. So the leather jacket clad creep wants to start a fight? You were more than happy to oblige.

“Depends. Is this the old man from last night? The guy who has to prey on younger girls because women his age can see through his bullshit?”

The sound of something smashing echoed in the background, and you couldn’t help but smirk. He huffed, “Just give me my goddamn phone back!”

You snapped, “You’re the one who took my phone. Nobody wants your filthy manslut machine.”

“Whatever. Let’s just meet and get this over with. Can you come down to Brooklyn and meet me at the Starbucks on Bedford and 7th?”

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “You’re lucky I live in Brooklyn, too. What if I lived on the Upper West Side or something? Also, of all the coffee places in fucking Williamsburg, you want to meet at Starbucks?”

Glass shattered in the background as Kylo seethed, “I’m not drinking the fucking coffee with you. We’re just meeting somewhere public.”

“Jesus. Calm down, I’m just joking.”

This guy could seriously go from zero to one hundred in a flash. You shuddered thinking about someone that huge running around throwing tantrums. You set a time with Kylo for later in the afternoon, eager to get off the phone. You couldn’t resist one last taunt though. Just before hanging up, you teased, “By the way, your friend ‘Big Titz’ sure has a way with words. I can’t wait until she finally gets the Pulitzer she deserves.”

The last thing Kylo heard was your cackle and then the line went dead. He had had remind himself that he was holding someone else’s phone, and he couldn’t slam it down the fire escape. Even if he really wanted to. He stared out the window, still seething with irritation.

Who the hell was this chick? Stomping around just saying whatever the hell she wanted. Kylo huffed and crossed his arms. He hated that despite his general disdain for you, a small part of him was intrigued. It had been ages since anyone worked him up like that. Made him feel anything at all. Somehow, he was already developing an appetite for your snark and attitude.

Maybe he was looking forward to meeting you at Starbucks after all.

He couldn’t wait to push your buttons some more. Maybe, he couldn’t wait to feel you push back.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Kylo felt his chest tighten, and he hated it. The man had half the mind to just turn around and walk home. Phones were overrated anyways. He watched you standing on the street corner, waiting for the light to change before crossing over to his side. You looked like you really didn’t care about meeting up with Kylo, and somehow that managed to bother and fascinate him at the same time.

Your hair was pulled up in a messy top knot - baby hairs sticking up and loose strands framing your cheeks. A thick knit cardigan was slung over your shoulders, but he could see some sort of graphic tee through the opening. Black ripped skinny jeans topped off the look, and heather wool socks peeked over a pair of Dr. Martens that had certainly seen better days.

God, someone this annoying shouldn’t look so cute.

“Hey, you’re actually here on time!” You chirped. Without the influence of alcohol, you were actually in a rather good mood. Kylo’s brow twitched at the assumption that he wouldn’t have been on time. Noticing his balled up fists, you quirked an eyebrow and flatly replied, “Relax, Goliath. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Kylo felt surprise at the fact that you could read him so clearly. Before he could respond, you fished out a black iPhone and waved the device around in his face.

“This yours?” You joked. Kylo huffed and moved to seize it from your fingers. Quickly whipping your hand out of the way you continued, “Nuh-uh. Not until I see mine.” He rolled his eyes and pulled out a similar, yet distinctly more battered, phone. Your lips split open into a wide smile as you swapped devices. Turning it on, you checked your messages and made sure that everything was in order.

“As if I’d snoop through your messages. You’re not nearly as interesting as you think,” Kylo dryly spat.

You looked up from the phone and grinned. “You’re right. I don’t have the pleasure of being friends with ‘Big Titz’.”

“Jesus, again with the name! I don’t even remember her! I don’t think we’ve even hooked up.”

Giving Kylo a look of faux innocence, you replied, “You don’t have to convince me, Kylo. It’s not as if I’m judging you or anything.”

He threw his hands up in frustration and began a sharp retort when a tall blonde woman suddenly appeared and threw an arm around Kylo. Her British accent seemed to dance alongside her jovial expression as she teased, “I hope you’re not punching walls again, Kylo. People Magazine would go nuts.”

Kylo grimaced as a third individual materialized next to him. You recognized him as the “General” from last night. Although he was dressed down in dark-washed jeans and a cable knit sweater, he still held an imposing air around him. Judging by his sharp gaze and rigid demeanor, you could see where he got his nickname from.

The man sized you up, and then a wicked grin spread across his face. Turning to Kylo, he softly spoke, “I didn’t realize that you were bringing a friend with you to brunch.” You quickly raised both hands up and replied, “Oh, no. I didn’t...”

The man quickly cut you off and interjected, “No need to be polite! It’s my treat anyways. A friend of Kylo’s is a friend of ours. I’m Armitage. You can call me Hux, and this is Phasma.”

You looked between the trio - Kylo’s ears were reddened, and you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Phasma looked like she was eating the whole scene up as her mischievous smile matched that of Hux’s. You really weren’t in a position to turn down free food, and agitating Kylo seemed to be an added bonus.

An equally evil grin spread across your face as you chirped, “Sure! Thanks for the invite.”

Kylo groaned, “Fucking hell.” Everyone ignored him though, and Phasma slipped an arm around your shoulder. Leaning against your ear, she whispered, “So. I’ve been meaning to hear all about how you almost punched Kylo last night...”

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“So how long?”

Phasma looked up from pouring syrup on her waffles and quirked an eyebrow. “How long since what?”

“How long has your friend Kylo been suffering from being a total dick?”

Hux choked on his bacon as Phasma burst out into laughter. The blonde reached over and snatched you phone up before inputting her number into the device. “Here’s my number. We’re totally hanging out later, okay?”

Kylo rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage her. She’ll just develop bad habits.”

You stuck a tongue out at the man and retorted, “Too late for that.” He groaned and speared a sausage with his fork. Watching you joke around with Hux and Phamsa, gave Kylo an odd sense of satisfaction as he watched the natural joy that spread across your face. His friends weren’t exactly easy people to get along with, and he was surprised by how effortlessly you seemed to assimilate into the group.

Phasma was mid-laugh when she noticed the way Kylo was eyeing you. You were giggling over some nonsensical thing Hux was talking about, and didn’t notice how soft Kylo’s gaze was as he took in the way your shoulders would shake every time you exhaled a puff of air. An idea suddenly popped into the woman’s head, when she asked, “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

Kylo and Hux both swiveled their heads to look at the blonde woman. You shrugged your shoulders and replied, “Nothing, really. Why?”

“Phas,” Kylo flatly interrupted. She turned to Kylo and gave him a defensive stare. Hux responded by nudging Kylo in the shoulder, and you quietly watched as the three seemed to engage in a silent conversation. You guessed that Kylo was the one to relent, because the man slumped backwards into the booth and threw his hands up with a sigh.

The tall blonde asked, “Want to see a show with us tomorrow?”

You pushed a potato wedge into your mouth and nonchalantly shrugged. “Depends on who is playing.”

Hux coughed and you swore that Phasma’s eyes glittered. “Have you heard of K.O.REN?”

Kylo stared at your relaxed demeanor in agitation as you worked on shoveling down more potatoes. He felt completely offended that you were unaware of the fact that you were eating brunch with one of the largest rock bands in the world. They played international stadiums for fuck’s sake, and here you were packing home fries into your mouth like it was your last meal. You shrugged your shoulders again and replied, “Who’s that?”

“Who?! As in you think K.O.REN is one person?” Kylo incredulously spat.

“I don’t know! Karen is a pretty common name!” You defensively retorted.

“Karen? Karen?!”

Hux moved to push Kylo back into the seat while Phasma kneeled over in laughter. Wiping a tear from her eye she gasped, “No. Knights of Ren. Shortened to ‘K.O.REN’. They’re a band.”

Your wide eyes blinked a few times before yet another shrug graced your shoulders. Kylo swore that he was going to lose it. Don’t you use the internet? Social media? Anything? Which rock in Central Park did you drag yourself out of? Noticing that Kylo was about to lose it for real, she quickly continued, “Look. One of my good friends is covering the show and we can get you backstage passes. Do me a favor though, and don’t look up the band prior to going. He’s wants to get some opinions from people who have never heard the band before. Something about a ‘fresh perspective’ or whatever.”

Hux watched in amusement as your fork reached over the table and began to pick at his bacon. The fact that you were now helping the bassist clear off his plate didn’t go unnoticed by Kylo either. Swallowing once again, you replied, “Can I bring a friend?”

“Sure. But you can’t tell her...or him...who the band is. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Phasma gave Kylo a wicked look as she stressed the word “him”. Kylo rolled his eyes and feigned nonchalance. You could bring whoever you wanted to the show. It was none of his business. If you wanted to get drunk and make out with some douche...

He hadn’t even realized that he was balling up his napkin in an angry fist. Her suspicion now confirmed, Phasma quietly began to plot in her head. This was going to be the most fun the woman had since the trio were just teens playing shitty covers in her parents’ garage.

[calpalirwin]

Insecurities

Summary: You were just a girl in a bar when Ashton Irwin literally bumped into you. His interest in you, although charming, also made you question if he was serious. After all, in what world did a man like that pursue a woman like you?

Pairings: Y/N and Ashton

And away, and away we go!

Part 1

You sighed as you set down your phone for the millionth time. You don’t know why you kept checking it. It’s not like you were waiting for anybody. No, you had made the decision to come out alone, to try and enjoy yourself without feeling the pressure to put on a face. After all, despite being old enough to drink, bars weren’t your scene. You weren’t bound to run into anyone you knew here, which had been the whole point of you challenging yourself to do something outside of your wheelhouse.

You took a small sip of your drink, wincing at the taste. Even with the extra glass of Coke you were slowly pouring into your whiskey soda to drown out the taste, the whiskey was still a tad strong for your liking. Bars weren’t your thing for a reason, you reminded yourself as you took another bitter sip. 

So there you were, staring at a still mostly full whiskey soda, in a bar, in downtown LA, on a Friday night, wondering just what the hell you thought you were doing when a loud giggle pierced your ears. The giggle was followed by a body bumping into your shoulder. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you turned to your intruder. “Shit, sorry, love,” the man giggled with an accent you couldn’t place as you weren’t sure if it was actually an accent or not. One of his large hands came to rest gently on your shoulder, as if making his apology more sincere, and you took notice of the heart tattoo on his wrist.

“Whatever,” you answered shortly, eyeing the man standing behind you- a polka dot button down that showed off part of his chest and more tattoos on his large arms, black jeans, and boot-clad feet- with misplaced annoyance. A part of you knew he didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of your bad mood. It wasn’t his fault you were in an envious spiral and questioning every life decision you ever made. A single shock of reddish brown hair laid across his forehead, stopping just above the pair of hazel eyes that were constantly changing colors under the lights that stared at you with a puzzled expression, no doubt confused that you weren’t already drooling over him. You decided to stare back, narrowing your eyes for added effect. In any other situation this man would be an intimidating piece of eye candy. Someone that you would sputter some nonsense at with a girlish giggle of your own, smitten that a guy like that had his hand on your shoulder. But tonight, he was just somebody who wouldn’t stop staring at you, and good, God could he fucking stop?! You turned your glare to his hand that was still on your shoulder. “Ya mind?” you all but snapped.

He pulled his hand back from your shoulder and used it to brush the single shock of hair back from his face, only for it to return to its rightful place as soon as his hand fell. “Oh, feisty. I like it.” He smiled, revealing the dimple in his cheek.

“Not feisty,” you shot back, choosing to feed your annoyance rather than risk succumbing to the schoolgirl antics you felt bubbling up inside of you. A crush was the last thing you needed right now. “Just have better things to do,” you added, this time with no annoyance in your tone, just numb indifference.

“Oh, like sitting by yourself?” he teased, clearly enjoying the back and forth.

“Says you.”

He nodded in head in the direction of a booth with 3 men who were equally as large and handsome as he was, and 2 girls with more beauty in their little fingers than you possessed in your whole body. “I’m actually here with friends.”

You waved your hand dismissively, “Well, by all means, I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

He leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “Maybe I want to be kept.” His breath was warm as it grazed by your neck, causing you to shudder.

“Trust me, I’m not that interesting.”

“Cute girl alone at a bar? Isn’t that how all the interesting stories start out?”

“I’m not alone,” you said, your senses on high alert. Never let a guy knew you were alone, c’mon quick, say your friend’s in the bathroom, no, say your boyfriend’s on his way! Your mouth opened to tell him your lie, any lie, but no words came out.

His brows furrowed together. “You are alone, huh?”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Then, “But, it was my choice. And people know where I am.”

He chuckled and nodded his head back to over where his friends were. “Well, why don’t you join us? You’d be surprised at the type of creeps that hang around bars.”

You looked over at his friends. The girls gave you the sense that it was a safe choice, certainly safer than telling him no or staying by yourself. There was something else you couldn’t quite figure out, almost like you knew them. But couldn’t remember from where. You stood up, putting your phone in your back pocket before reaching for your drinks. “Okay, Sir Giggle, I’ll join you and your friends,” you told him.

“Sir Giggle?” he giggled.

“If the name fits,” you answered.

He led you across the bar to his booth, and when his friends looked at you and back at him in question, he answered their unspoken question. “Guys this is… uh… shit…” he giggled as he shot you an apologetic look.

“Y/N,” you said, as you took the seat Sir Giggle was offering you.

“Y/N,” he smiled, both of you liking the way it sounded rolling off his lips. “Y/N this is, Luke, his girlfriend, Sierra, Mike, and his fiancee, Crystal, and that’s Cal.”

They all smiled and offered a small wave as their names were called- first the blonde haired boy, then a dark-haired girl, followed by another blonde boy and blonde girl, and then the dark haired boy- as your brain finally clicked as to why they all seemed familiar, an unintended “Oh, shit…” escaping your lips.

“Is something wrong?” Sir Giggle, better known as Ashton Fuckin Irwin, asked you.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. Just… holy shit, I know you. Well, I don’t know you. I mean… holy shit,” you began to ramble. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m sure you get that all the time… shit… holy fuck, I mean, hi, God, sorry!”

Ashton giggled which caused everyone else to laugh a little, including you. “It’s fine. Cute actually.”

Did Ashton Irwin just call your fangirling cute? No. Fucking. Way. You blushed and ducked your head. “No, it’s actually really stupid. I mean, your just people. People go out to bars. It’s what people do. Normal people.” You were rambling again.

“Normal, Ash, you hear that? We’re normies,” Calum said with a grin.

“Well, Mike probably is,” you put in. “I mean, Michael. Mike? Mikey? Michael. Like you like stuff my friends like. Videogames, nerdy stuff, the likes.”

Michael chuckled, “I think that makes me a nerd, actually. And Mike’s fine. Mikey works too, I’m not picky.”

“Not a nerd,” you smiled. “A punk nerd. Cuz you’re in a… nevermind, bad joke.”

Michael laughed anyway, “Punk nerd, I like it. Got a nice ring to it.”

“Well… I like Mean Girls,” Luke spoke up.

“Oh, my God, shut up, Luke!” Michael said loudly with a roll of his eyes.

Everybody laughed at Michael’s fake-annoyance, and as you laughed with them you felt more at ease. Star status or not, people were just people.

“So, what do you do?” Crystal asked you.

“Oh, I’m a teaching assistant. But I’m finishing school so I can become a teacher,” you answered.

“Picked you a college girl, huh, Ash?” Calum asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I didn’t…” Ashton started to protest from his seat next to you before turning to you to gauge your reaction. “I wasn’t… it was an accident, swear. So, college, huh?”

You smiled gently at him, accident or not, you were now glad he had quite literally bumped into you. This was quickly becoming one of the best nights of your life. “Yeah, I’m gonna be a senior this year. Finally.”

“What do you mean, aren’t you excited?” Ashton asked.

“No, I am. I just… well, college has taken me longer than most, so I feel a little behind the curve sometimes is all.”

“Well, it’s not a race,” Sierra spoke up. “People do things in their own way and time.”

“I guess that’s true,” you nodded. “As long as you get where you’re going, doesn’t matter the pace, right?”

“Wait… so how old are you then?” Ashton blurted. His eyes went wide as the girls glared at him, so he began to backpedal on his question “Shit… I just mean… since you said college has taken you longer than most… Aren’t most college seniors like 21 or 22?”

You nodded, “Generally, yeah. But, I’m 25.”

“Shit, no way! I just turned 25 a few weeks ago,” Ashton told you.

“I know,” you mumbled, cheeks blushing.

“Wait,” Michael asked, leaning forward. “Are you recently 25, like old man Ash? Or…?”

“My birthday was back in December, so I’m older.”

“Isn’t the band’s birthday in December?” Luke asked.

“It’s actually on my birthday,” you admitted, blushing again. “The 3rd.” It had been a fun fact you learned when you became a fan of their work, which regrettably wasn’t all that long ago.

“No shit?” Ashton asked you.

“No shit,” you repeated, cheeks still burning.

As the night wore on, the drunker everyone but you and Ashton became. You weren’t that much of a drinker, and Ashton was on a sober streak of his own. When closing time came around, Ashton offered to walk you to your car.

“A little big for a tiny thing like you, don’t ya think?” he asked, nodding at your truck.

You shrugged. You personally thought the truck was on the small side. “It gets the job done.”

He chuckled. “Text me when you get to where you’re going so I know you got there safe.”

“I don’t have your number,” you pointed out.

“Aw, love, all you had to do was ask,” he teased.

You let a small chuckle of your own as you exchanged numbers. “Thanks. For tonight. It was… nice.”

“We should do it again sometime, then.”

“Well, you have my number,” you told him.

“That I do. Drive safe, love.”

“You, too, Ash,” you said, blushing at the way he called you “Love.”

You watched as he sauntered over to his own car a few spots over, taking a quiet delight in how he waited for you to pull out of the parking lot before he pulled out of his spot. Whether you were misreading his signs or not, there was no denying that he was a guy who looked out for others. And that was never a bad thing in your book.

Your phone pinged while you were still driving down the freeway, your phone sending an automatic text back to the sender. Your phone pinged again and you stole a quick glance at the contact and smiled to yourself.

Once you were safely inside your apartment, you opened your phone to check the texts:

Hey, it’s Ash. I just got in.

I’m driving.

Dang, love, just where do you live?

I’m driving

You quickly shot back a quick text. I live in LA, just not the actual city, lol. Night, Ash.

Glad you’re safe. Sleep well, love. was the quick response back.

You fell asleep, a smile on your face.

[seven--eyes]

sometimes, distance is love

“But do we have to…?”

“Of-fucking-course we have to. Mr. Sparrow has been nothing but kind to us for months, everyone in the branch that I care about is going to be there, and there’s an open bar.” Kerigo wrenched sheets from Eiuus, and pulled the dragon to his level, nose to nose. Looking into his eye, Kerigo whispered, “You don’t just not go to parties that buy an open bar.”

Eiuus paused. “Let me change,” he said sheepishly.

.

Sparrow threw his arms around the dragons, tying them together and forcing them into a huge, uncomfortable group huddle. “There she is! The final destination of the night, boys! A dinner party!”

“An open bar!” Kerigo quipped from underneath Sparrow’s bicep, muffled out by the fur. “It’s your birthday, but I feel pretty thankful for this particular gift.”

“Only for the best for my best friends,” he purred happily and satisfied. Letting go of the group, each of them gasped for air and steadied their balance. Sparrow guffawed by how dramatic they were. They’d better get used to that quickly, Jack thought to himself. “Everyone else is already here, so make yourselves known, fellas! Everyone would love to hear about this, err, storm in the north.”

Eriq straightened out his sweater, pressing out the folds and dusting off the bugbear hair. “No, they won’t,” he commented quietly.

Eriq wore a simple, comfortable outfit. He wore a stiff, navy blue vest and short cloak over the shoulders. Underneath he had a clean, sharp undershirt with the top two buttons undone. His pants were  fitting to his form and at mid-calf length. His new metallic addition peeked out from under the rim, and he frequently stood with that leg behind the other.

Paypur stepped up to the building first. He blinked, holding a finger below the sign and reading out the words in common. “It’s… The, Rainy, Harbor. Cute! I like it!”

Albeit without much change to it, Paypur wore his adventuring gear. The thin cloak draped over his shoulders and flowed down his back. His shirt and sleeves were long, and styled elven in nature. He wore ankle high boots that clicked with each step on the pavement. All of his outfit and accessories were in silver or black metal. Even his hair was done neatly, his usually wild look was now combed, curled, and styled into a cute haircut to frame his face. His locks bobbed with each step. Finally, with the added confidence his fine new look gave him, his tail wagged sheepishly behind his ankles.

“We’re familiar with it.” Kerigo cleared his throat, noticing how suddenly Hydra folded his shoulders in a defeated way. “Regardless, there’s more celebration to be had. Let’s go.”

Lakken had a similar sense of the occasion, as most of his gear, belts, equipment and accessories were still on his person. He wore no hood, but a dress coat of a sailor. It had a long collar, thus, creating the same sense of style. Though the top two buttons were as they always are, his shirt was tucked and without creases or cuts. From head to toe, his scales were clean and groomed. His work boots and tailcoat free of dirt or blood stains. This one of the few nights it would remain that way.

One after another, the group stepped in. Cadets and admirals alike, friends and potential enemies of Sparrow together, scattered throughout the large main room. The lights and magical lanterns glowed in shades of soft white or summer yellow. The party goers were dressed in all colors of the rainbow, and in variations of those hues. All of them were dressed fashionably and appropriately, many with their exploration base emblems on pins or coats. A majority of them were sat down at large tables. Every booth filled to the brim. And most importantly, their drinks and plates half empty, thus leaving the bar free and for the taking.

Sparrow slapped Hydra on the upper back so hard, it nearly sent him forward. “Enjoy the time and drinks together. After all we know, fellas, the state of the kingdom might not allow us a second chance next year.” And he sent the party on their way.

.

KERIGO LAKKEN

“Hey, Kerigo!” The bartender greeted the pair as they came to the bar. She made quick work of their requests, and continued down the line to help the crowd of party goers.

He chuckled to himself. Leaning his elbows onto the slab, he nodded his head as thanks to her. Turning back to Odin, he had rested his arm on the bar. Between Kerigo and his order.

Odin swayed his drink at the wrist. He held up a claw to Kerigo, suggesting for him to wait a moment. He spin on his stool until he faced Kerigo completely, and subtly leaned his head so that his eyes peered just from underneath the rim of his hat. “You know, darling,” Odin began slow, pausing for a moment to allow the bartender to move out of earshot. “It takes two hours of rigorous, passionate love making to work off a glass of this vodka you like. It’s pretty high in alcohol, after all.” The barbarian moved his claw to the glass. With his ring finger, he nudged it across the counter into Kerigo’s reach. He winked. Otherwise, he maintained a level composure. “I have plans after this.”

“Hm,” Kerigo grunted. He calmly accepted the drink. Observed it. Swirled the ice cubes around in it. As though to delve into thought. “I’m gonna need a lot more of these, then.” He chuckled with a sinister, sideways grin. Wagging his ring finger, he tipped the glass back. “You don’t take the opportunity to flirt a lot.”

Odin chuckled to himself. Clearing his throat after a healthy, burning swig of ale, he leaned his head back and regarded Kerigo with full attention and less lewd suggestion.  “Usually, I don’t even need to.”

“Hmm, sure, I suppose I’m better at it.”

“You have more experience,” Odin commented in a low voice. He gestured to himself. “I was a cultist.”

Kerigo’s shoulders folded over. Those words felt equally as painful as the experiences themselves were sweet. “I… Let’s… Not talk about my experience. Let’s drink.”

.

PAYPUR CHAMBERLIN

Paypur tiptoed along the snack table. Careful to mind his tail when turning and ensuring each step was soft. A small heel make a great click on such perfect floors and echoing rooms. His cloaks made him stand out in the crowds. Even tall women with flowing gowns didn’t stand out as much as his styled, heavy cape. Thus, he was easy to spot for those looking for him.

Gantu stepped to his side just as Payp popped a piece of vegetarian sushi into his mouth. Halfway through eating, he answered before being questioned, “I didn’t do it.”

The dragonborn snickered slightly. He reached for a larger piece with shrimp tails and sauce. He threw the slice into his maw with so little care, he had the same demeanor of an okakapi. “Do you want to get something to drink? Make this night less mingling nonsense and more interesting.” Gantu glanced from the tables and foods before them, angling his head in the direction of the bar a few feet away.

Payp made a thoughtful hmm noise. Considering it. “Ehh, not there, no thanks. I don’t really like drinking unless it’s from my mom’s winery.” He took the opportunity to truly get a full look at the dragon in dress. Truly, this was his element.

Captain Gantu didn’t feel adventurous this evening, and thus chose the outfit and color that suits him best. His jacket and shirt were tailored specifically for him, and thus accentuated and complemented everything about his colors, fins and shapes. His deep v-neck shirt was laced at the sides in gold thread tied into bows. The jacket was at knee length in a typical Sea Exploration dressy way. It was dark pine green with accented silver along the zippers, edges and pockets. The additional latches and chains for his jacket hung loosely in a simultaneously lazy and professional, dressy way. Sea Exploration emblems commonly are worn at the broadest point on the back, nearly large enough to stretch shoulder to shoulder. But his jacket was open back for his fins, thus, he wore his silver and blue attack division emblem on his left shoulder.

The dragon waited. Impatiently.

“-Which I have, of course,” Paypur continued, reaching from behind his cloak and revealing that deep purple and red wine bottle. He swirled it around, teasing.

The Captain reached for the bottle by the neck.  He considered the proposal. “It’s not full, but… It’ll do. It’s a little weird to bring your own alcohol to a gathering like this, however. Don’t you think?”

“It’s weird only if you’re a coward.”

“I’m a coward.” Gantu replied. He regarded the room, and thought for a moment. “I’ll tell you what. I know this place. We’ll compromise. Follow me.”

While Gantu turned to make his way, Payp put a hand out to hold. He paused. But in the moment after, he accepted the invitation and grasped Paypur by the palm. He pulled the tiefling along a few hallways and stairwells of the building. Along the way, he attempted asking ‘where are we going,’ and ‘what is this’ a few times. But to no avail, Gantu maintained his composure and continued onward. No party goers dared to stray far from the main room or man of the hour, but what’s a little detour between coworkers?

“Close your eyes, for a moment.”

Payp did as told. “Ooh, I didn’t know you were into this, Gantu.” He snickered, hearing Gantu hiss in protest.

“It’s not like that,” he sighed. “Just come.”

Truly grasping at each other for balance and guidance, Payp stepped up and around a few objects. He felt the hardwood floor no longer click. Breathing in, the air was saltier and colder. Wind licked at their lose jackets and cloaks.

“Okay, open.”

Paypur did so. He blinked a few times to truly take in the area. Looking to the tip of his shoes, they were standing on black, clay roof shingles. The Elviasa streets, buildings, trees and people were dwarfed in size. They were far away and far below where Payp stood. The torch street lights flickered and shuttered across the city. Burning low and dim, a thousand numbers strong. In contrast to the small, gentle street lights, the stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky. A million strong. Shining brighter in the clear atmosphere. The moon was barely new. It hung like a sliver of string in the sky. He remained frozen in wonder, above the city and ocean, looking to it. “I-- Wait, Where are we?!”

Gantu sat, making himself comfortable. Minding Payp standing star struck, he folded his tail on the opposite side. “Just the roof of the Rainy Harbor. Look.” He pointed down to the sign, still swinging in the cold ocean breeze. Gantu folded his arms onto his knees, waiting for Payp to calm and sit beside him. “I would always climb onto roofs and high towers as a kid.”

“It’s beautiful. I can see why.”

“Sometimes it just, it was just something to do, though.”

Paypur clutched his cloak, holding it back from flipping and turning in the wind. He was still standing straight, hardly noticing Gantu settling. The view of the ocean here was too dear to let go of. The faint, soft crashing of waves tickling at the very edge of his hearing. The sharp, salty and fishy air of it lingered in his breath. His eyes traced along the horizon. Just beyond where the sun set hours ago. He thought of the land beyond. He thought of Ayami for a moment. Thinking to himself, he hoped Ayami was feeling warm in the sun. He hoped Ayami was okay. Is that so strange?

“Are you okay?” Gantu said.

The moment passed. Payp was back here, his mind’s curiosity satisfied. “I used to climb onto the trees around my granddad’s tree house.” Payp folded his legs underneath him, just beside the other. “There was one outside our forest. High above the rest beside the mountain range, East of the house. And when I got on top of it,” Payp continued, pulling his cloak over his body like a blanket comforter, “I could see the entire tree house, the entire winery… Our forest and our home.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. It made me feel small. It made our home feel small, but weirdly special. But I saw Areona for the first time, too.”

Gantu leaned back and sat comfortably. Taking the wine bottle from Payp’s loose grip, he stuck his claw beneath the cork and forced it open. “Heh, and what did you think of Areona?”

Paypur took the bottle back and sipped it. “I thought it was huge. I thought it shadowed me and my home, and it made me feel even smaller. Not like I was scared of it, though. I was curious of it. I wanted to see more of it. Meet other people, see things…”

The other stayed silent. He listened to Payp speak in wonder, almost as though everything coming to mind was what crossed his tongue. It was like music to the ears. Magical to experience. “What do you think of Areona now?”

“I want to see more of it. Like I just did.”

ERIQUUS

“Is this… Is this enough of, what did Mr. Sparrow call it? This party? I don’t like this place.” Hydra had been making tiny hints of discomfort the whole night. Asking what time it was and when ‘parties’ end. Being around so many people, so many faces he had seen and hadn’t seen. Both were equally difficult to cope with. Hydra’s hair was clean, freshly cut and just conditioned. It was free of stray hairs. Otherwise, Hydra’s shifted form and sense of style were the same. He wore his kimono, but kept his lance at his side where it was comfortable to keep.

“We’re just here a bit longer, Kerigo’s probably done drinking. He’s had like, at least three.” He said slowly. He moved behind Hydra’s chair, slipping fingertips under the kimono, and setting his palms onto his shoulders. Gently massaging. Careful not to cut his claws into Hydra’s skin, Eriq pressed his fingers into the knots of his muscle.

Hydra cast his eyes down and tensed his shoulders. “Eriq, not here. Not here. Lechnka, I feel sick.” He pulled his thick locks over his shoulder, and ran his fingers through them.

Eriq immediately took his hands off of Hydra. “O-oh. What did I...?”

“I don’t like it here. I don’t feel welcome. I feel sick,” Hydra said again, wrinkling his nose in response to the heavy aroma of alcohol, sweets, snacks, and meats. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then covered his face. “Just… Let me have a moment.”

Agreeing, Eriq stepped back. Hydra turned his attention over his shoulder, hands still tugging at his soft locks of hair. A look in the back of his eye apologized. Apologizing for the inconvenience, the miscommunication, for his sickness. He stood. Eriq took another, larger step back. Hydra moved to the Rainy Harbor exit, and left for the street.

Eriquus watched the door latch. That was the only thing he heard for a moment. After the moment passed, the world came back to him, and the polite chatter of the crowds around continued. As though nothing had happened. What did happen? What is happening? The dragon pulled his sleeves down, and hurried for the door opposite of the room. Putting his hand around the door knob, he hesitated only slightly. He opened it.

Stepping through the threshold of the door, Eriq pressed his palm flat to it, closing it behind him. The ‘click noise’ caused a stir in a person at the far end of the deck. Seosul stood with her back to Eriq, but she jolted upon hearing a sound. Her senses alert, she turned to see who joined her outside. Wearing a pine green halter dress and long silver earrings, a single shift of balance sent her skirt into curls at the knee and jewelry to tangle with her hair. “Good evening.”

“Hey, Seosul. Anchor. I- Admiral Anchor.”

She pressed her back to the guard rail and folded her hands behind her. She smiled once, “That’s okay, I...” she paused. “I’m not in uniform. How are you settling back into Elviasa?”

“It’s better than the alternative... and I love listening to the sea.” They allowed a brief breath between words, just to listen to the waves crash beyond the railing for a moment. “How are you?”

“It’s great,” she responded, a bit too prepared to answer. “Very few of our sailors ever contracted this plague after the monster attacks. Those who do, however, are under low-intensity duty, with regular check ups from the Light Magic students around.” She absentmindedly twirled a finger around her dress skirt. “Twenty-seven sailors all each received their fitting prosthetics from Ms. Hyo. Our people are taken care of, as always, so... It’s great. Outstanding, even.”

Eriq blinked. “I asked ‘how are you?’ So how are you, Seosul?”

She bristled ever slightly. She pursed her lips, embarrassed, forcing expression back to neutral just after. “I’m outstanding, Eriquus.”

“I… good to hear.”

“If you’ll excuse me.” Admiral Anchor nodded her head slow, regarding him with a respectful bow of the head. Then she moved past him back into the party.

How odd of her.

Eriq couldn’t help but sigh once the area was safe enough to. He threaded his fingers through his fur. Finding comfort in the feeling. His feet wandered around the outer seating area, tracing his steps around the dark wood tables and chairs just as he did a few weeks prior. Just before… This spot is where I… Where he– Then he placed his hands on the guard rail. Steadying his balance and calming the rising unease in his mind. He sighed again.

Eyes rising to the horizon, Eriq glanced around and took in the atmosphere. The ocean felt strangely empty after being beneath it. The waves rolled into the shore. Flowing across the sand like a cup about to spill over. Standing just at the edge, in the sea foam and sandy beaches, was a humanoid figure walking along it. Completely unaware of those watching above. Their shoulders relaxed and demeanor neutral. Their thin tail trailed at the back of their heel, curling at the very end so as to not dip into the water. No other defining features to their silhouette in the moonlight.

Wait. Eriq leaned over the railing. Bending at the hip, he squinted. There was a tiny glow to their face. A golden metallic shine around a curve to the point, like a hook. A golden hook.

Eriq hurried out of the party and to the beach, catching up to the leisurely character in a few moments. He came to a halt to fast, he threw a cloud of sand into the air and sunk into it. He wondered how it might feel through both feet, between all his talons, balancing on the back of his heel. The bits of sand hit the back of this person’s pant leg, and they came to attention. They turned.

“Oh. Oh!” A smile cracked across Sergeant Sipian’s face. His eyes bobbed from Eriq’s up to down, toe to horn tip. “Hey, Eriq. You look nice.”

The man was dressed with surprising detail. His leather dress shoes shined, blemished only by the sand on the sole. He wore jet black slacks and striped white suspenders, a tucked in buttoned shirt underneath. All so iron pressed there wasn’t a single crease in his entire wardrobe. Not even a button- all of which were fastened- or thread of fabric was out of place. This was the sharpest Eriq had ever seen the man. He could hardly recognize the sergeant.

“Sipian. I- what are you doing out here?” Eriq asked. He stuttered, noticing the invasive tone of his voice. He corrected, more slowly, “I… You know there’s a uh, an open bar, right?”

The tiefling bared his teeth in a chuckle. “Yeah, I know. I said hello to Admiral Sparrow, but, I’m just not feeling a party right now.”

“Me neither.”

Silence fell. They just accepted the other’s presence. The mere closeness, standing ten feet apart, was enough comfort in contrast to the Rainy Harbor packed back to front.

“Can I join you?”

Resting his hands low into his pockets, Sipian rolled his head back, and glanced down the far side of the beach. He offered a sideways smile. A crook of the expression that shifted the light on his face, and the shine in his hook. Eriquus took the invitation in a heartbeat.

.

They caught up. Moving through the motions of ‘how’s it going’s and ‘it’s going.’ Things are happening, whether they will it to or not. They had that in common. But as Eriq’s voice lowered upon mention of Hydra, Sipian made no moves to reply. He just listened to the voice Eriq put out there.

“I need some advice.” Eriq folded his arms together, tight to his sides. Every gust of wind that shuddered through him made him feel right at home. Eriq wasn’t sure if home was supposed to feel good or bad in that moment.

Sipian made a small, choked laughing noise in the back of his throat. “You’re coming to me for advice? Me? Damn, I’m sorry. How many other people have you asked?” As he spoke, he was combing through the sand in search of flat rocks or seashells. He found one from the sand. Pulling his arm back and rotating at the hip, he sent the rock skipping across the calm sea water until it sank.

Eye tracing the ripples of water out to sea, Eriq simmered. His claws gently tugged at his vest, and sat down in the sand. “Just you, actually,” he replied quietly.

The tiefling’s improper posture froze. “Oh.” He straightened. Then invited himself to take a spot in the sand just beside the snow dragon. “What’s… What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s been really different since I was last here. A lot happened, and… A lot has happened. I don’t know how to fix any of it. I don’t know what to do, or even how to feel about some of it.” Eriq was hesitant to relax for a moment, reluctant to mess his outfit too much. But after a few moments, he let the stress of his body flow out. He stretched his legs and tail straight outward. Eriq paused, and let himself listen to the waves again. Without meaning to, his eyes fell to the metal half of himself. The paint has been worn and scratched off in small places. Dull white revealed the shiny, metallic, empty shell underneath. “I feel like Hydra doesn’t want to touch me because of this. Like he’s scared. I want to hold him but every time I do, it’s like it hurts him.”

Sipian made a frustrated groan. “Tell me about it.” He tensed unconsciously, and the gears in his robotic arm whirred as though to speak for the words he wasn’t saying.

“And it’s Hydra. A literal beast with the softest touch, and he’s scared to embrace me. Absolutely terrified,” Eriq trailed off, planting his palms to his thighs. Feeling along the fabric and loathing how different each felt. “Even when we’re… together…. I love it, but I think I’m a little scared too.”

Samael watched Eriq in his peripherals. His shoulder facing the dragon, like completely seeing the brunt of that pain Eriq held in his hands and chest was a bit too much to bear. He tilted his head upward. “When I, personally, got my limbs torn off… In that darkest moment of my life, fighting for it... and felt all my blood dilute into the seawater, experiencing just what one imagines it’s like to feel one’s soul leaving their body… In a slow, gruesome-”

“Sipian, this isn’t helping.”

“-Hang on. When I felt like I was dead, or I sure was gonna be, I was sad.”

Eriq’s attention shifted suddenly to Sipian. He raised a brow, confused. “Sad?”

“Mmhm. I was sad. Because I knew Seosul was going to blame herself for not protecting me. Did you feel that?”

That gave Eriq pause. He took a deep breath, putting himself back into that feeling. A dark moment, blood flowing out the wound like life out of a body. He winced as that memory put himself through the exact pain again. “I… I did.”

“Hydra blames himself for not protecting you. And… that’s all he’s following; a sense of protection. Sometimes distance is how people show closeness. Sometimes distance is love.”

Eriquus’s breath shook and shuttered. He steadied himself after running through a long, brutal memory. He put his hand to his chest. Slowing the beat of his panicked heart. Calming, he finally spoke. He repeated, “Distance is love.” Eriq looked up to Sipian who still faced the open ocean. He was serene. Cool. His head and eyes were straight, like he was searching for something at the far side of the world. Yet, his thoughts and his mind were here. His heart was here. “Do you love Seosul?”

Sipian smiled. Blinking a few times and casting his eyes down to his feet, he was quiet as he regarded the question. The slow tide licked at the front of his shoes. He found the strength to meet Eriq in the eye, and feel that pain. He opened his mouth to speak.

[astrodances]

The Knights of Team Uncle

Based on this post I made yesterday. Shout-out to @astudyinchocolate​ for the actual fic idea, and @galoots​ I’m tagging you again as well because Team Uncle.

So...yeah. Enjoy the fluff! I’m off to make cupcakes!

Prompt: "scrooge probably took that photo while he and donald had the eggs for the day”

"Peaceful" had been the last word Scrooge expected to use to describe his and Donald's day out with the eggs, yet here he was.

With Della needing a break, Scrooge had brought the boys to the Billionaires' Club. He had some minor work tasks to take care of, and seeing as how the Money Bin was far too hectic an environment to bring the eggs to, he decided the club was the best place to handle both, along with whatever shenanigans that would inevitably arise with his hapless nephew.

So when he caught himself quirking his beak up at the stillness that had overtaken his half of the club's lounge, Scrooge was understandably surprised. The contract he'd been looking over fell to his side on the couch he'd been sitting on as he got up to stretch and take a look at the grandfather clock in the corner. Soft jazz wafted throughout the room from his radio on the mantle, punctuated by a gentle snore that caught his attention.

Scrooge turned towards the noise, and his heart melted on sight.

Donald sat atop his nephews' eggs in Scrooge's armchair, asleep and dead to the world. His limbs were sprawled out and his beak agape, and the latest addition to his collection of parenting books—Parenting for Dum-Dums, his uncle noted—laid forgotten on his chest.

It was too precious a moment to miss, and Scrooge needed to capture it.

Deft in his movements so as to not wake him, he got Donald's handheld digital camera out of his backpack across the room and turned back around. He was able to turn the camera on and, with some luck, managed to snap a clear photo of the scene.

The only thing he had forgotten about though was the flash, which caused Donald to open a bleary eye right as the picture was taken.

Scrooge immediately swore as he looked at the camera's buttons. "Blasted contraption! They're always changing these things every year!" He hadn't meant to wake Donald up. He spared a guilty glance towards him. "Sorry, Nephew. I dinnae mean to disturb yer slumber."

Donald mumbled a noncommittal sound as he shook off his groggy haze.

"I just had to get a picture of my boys all together is all," Scrooge shared, before returning his attention back to the camera. "If I can find it, that is..." He tried to recall the sequence of buttons Donald had shown him before for accessing the device's memory, and finally found the one he'd just taken. "Aha! I did it! Aww, you look as cute as you did ten years ago as you do now when you're asleep..." He let out a laugh, his accent tinging it with a certain jolly air.

Donald had managed to hop carefully off the eggs and was now looking over his uncle's shoulder at the photo. When he saw his sleepy expression, he squawked in indignation. "Hey! Delete that!"

He tried to swipe the camera from Scrooge's grasp, but Scrooge held him at bay with one hand, the other outstretched from Donald's reach.

"Never! It's-" Scrooge snarled through the struggle. "A precious family- memory!" He finally pushed Donald off of him and raised the camera in victory, before returning it to the backpack and zipping it shut decisively. As he turned back around, he stared pointedly at his nephew. "Besides, we promised Della we would take more photos on our days out with the eggs."

"Oh fine," Donald rolled his eyes as he relented.

Before they could move on to a new topic, a rumble broke through the silence.

"Hungry much, lad?" Scrooge smirked, causing Donald to blush at just how incriminating his stomach was. "Why don't ye go get some lunch, eh?"

Donald shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Nope. I gotta watch the eggs."

Now it was Scrooge's turn to roll his eyes. "Nonsense! I can watch them!" He walked behind Donald and started pushing him towards the door. "Go on, go get something from the club's kitchen. Take a little break; you've earned it."

It was painfully true—ever since Della had laid her eggs, Donald had been working himself to the bone trying to prove himself as a good uncle. When Della had been gravid, Scrooge had overheard Donald confessing to her that he just wanted to be for the triplets what Scrooge had been for the twins in their youth. He wanted to live up to Scrooge's reputation as a parental figure.

The starkness of that confession had both humbled and gnawed at Scrooge, and while he didn't want to let on that he'd been eavesdropping, he did his best to make sure Donald got the encouragement and affirmation that he so rightfully deserved. He had no doubt that his nephew would be the best uncle, not because he had Scrooge for a role model, but because he was driven purely by love and dedication for his sister and his own nephews.

That said, Scrooge also did his best to ensure that Donald knew that this was a group effort. "It takes a village to raise a child!" he liked to point out seemingly every other week. Donald needed to learn that he could rely on and trust his family.

With this in mind, Scrooge stopped the two of them at the lounge's door and placed a soothing hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Go relax and eat something, and take your time. I'll watch the eggs."

Donald hesitated, looking between his uncle and the nest on his armchair.

"We're Team Uncle, aren't we?" Scrooge held up his hand as if offering a pact, and remembered the story the three of them had made up and told the eggs the other night. "The knights to Queen Della and her princes?" 

With a final glance towards the eggs, Donald gave him a tired, but committed smile and took his hand in solidarity. "That we are. In that case, this knight is gonna go have a double-decker sandwich."

Scrooge chuckled at Donald's retreating figure, then closed the door and walked over to his unhatched family in his chair. As he picked up the nest and sat down with the eggs on his lap, he cooed, "Donnae you wee ones worry. Uncle Scroogie's got ya. Unca Donnie will be right back."

He settled into the cushions with a sigh and made sure the eggs were all balanced, then reached over his shoulder and pulled the checkered throw blanket he had on the back of his chair down and wrapped it snugly around the three of them, so they were all cocooned in his embrace. The jazz was still playing on his radio, and he felt the weight of that morning's work lifting from his shoulders.

He started thinking about the fairytale he had brought up to Donald again and smiled. "Your mother really is every bit the queen we said she is," he told the eggs, before leaning in conspiratorially to whisper to them. "But did you know your ol' Uncle Scrooge was a king way back not one, but two centuries ago? I was the King of the Klondike!" He raised a triumphant fist with the title and looked heroically on, before settling his gaze on the nest again. "I had a queen, too: the Ice Queen of Dawson—a sneaky one, she was. Always tryin' to steal her king's gold—and his heart. Oh, he tried to stop her each an' every time, but she was a powerful lass, and seemed to always know where the key was. And one day, they got roped into a battle against..."

Scrooge fell easily into his storytelling, his hands waving about for emphasis and his voice dripping with every bit of dramatic tension he could muster, though still soft so as to not to disturb the peace of the afternoon. By the time he finished the story, however, he had succumbed to the cozy presence of his family and the inviting warmth of his chair, and nodded off into a deep nap.

This is how Donald found him when he came back from his lunch (and boy, what a lunch it was).

Scrooge's head was tilted forward towards his chest, his spectacles sliding down his beak and his top hat askew. He looked all too indulgent in his sleep, yet still had a protective hold on the eggs, which made his nephew breathe a sigh of relief.

It was adorable and sweet.

And the perfect opportunity for revenge.

Donald set the bottle of juice he had brought back with him down on an end table and retrieved his camera from his backpack, then lined up for the shot. He was much more knowledgeable with the technology than Scrooge was, yet there was still a distinct flash when Donald took the picture.

The burst of light, of course, woke Scrooge up, and he jolted his ahead around in an alert daze. "Whazza- who?" His hands instinctively held the eggs closer to his body, and his eyes finally landed on his nephew just as he snapped another photo of Scrooge's confusion, making him grumble and rub his eyes.

When he opened them again, he saw Donald waving the camera around with an impish grin. Were it not for the eggs on his lap, he would've tackled him into a playful headlock just for the sheer smugness on his face.

Yet before Scrooge could insist that the photos be deleted, Donald beat him to the punch.

"Two can play that game, Uncle."

[angrylizardjacket]

ask your destiny to dance [12] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“Oh Ashley, it’s so good to see you.” Freddie’s mother seems absolutely delighted to see Ash at the door when she opens it, a few weeks after the album’s recording, on the morning of Freddie’s birthday. She quickly wraps the girl up in a hug, and Ash hugs her back tightly. “It’s been too long.” She scolds, beckoning Ash through into the kitchen. “Farrokh and his friends are in his room, and I’m sure Kash is somewhere, but I have some things for you to take home.” And she produces a tupperware container full of baked goods, and Ash’s chest tightens a little.

“Mrs Bulsara, you really didn’t have to-” Ash tries to decline, but Freddie’s mother pushes the container into her hands with a fond smile.

“Nonsense, it was no trouble; Freddie tells me how you live up on the campus, all that junk food, and so far from home?” She clicks her tongue, shaking her head as she heads back out to the dining room. “You need a mother’s cooking. Don’t worry, I’ve added plastic forks; I’ve been told you don’t have any in your kitchen.” She says, and Ash flushes, embarrassed but thankful.

Freddie’s mother never says it outright, but they both know that she knows that Ash had been kicked out of home before she’d become friends with Freddie. After the first few times Ash had come over to work on a uni project with Freddie, she’s invited to stay for dinner, and Freddie’s mother always gives her leftovers to take home with her. Jer, after three years, treats Ash like family, and Ash, when she thinks about it too hard, wants to cry out of love.

“Kashi, come set the table, lunch is almost ready.” Freddie’s mother calls out, and Kash gives Ash a hug in greeting when she comes to collect plates.

Ash sits herself next to John when everyone’s arrived and lunch is served, and Roger sits himself right next to her. Kristin’s with him, which irks Ash for reasons she doesn’t want to think too hard about, but Ash smiles at her and makes small talk, and it makes Kristin looks a little less uncomfortable and out of place.

The mood around the table is bright, even with Roger and Kristin being a little too cute for Ash’s taste. Mary’s father signs stories about Mary and she translates for the whole table, bashful and sweet, and Kash ask Ash across the table about her latest designs, and the boys all talk excitedly about their album, and then Freddie’s mother is saying how nice it is for Farrokh to bring home a nice girl like Mary.

“What does that make you, Ash?” Roger snickers, and Ash elbows him in the ribs, suppressing a smile of her own.

“A horrible young woman.” Ash says airily, and Kash giggles across the table, and Jer tuts.

“Ashley is a good friend; Mary is…” and she trails off, making gestures at Mary, who is squinting a little.

“Farrokh?” She asks, and Freddie’s mother relaxes, smiling with a hint of confusion. Wondering aloud if Freddie had ever told them about his heritage, though neither Ash nor Roger were paying them much attention.

“A horrible young woman?” Roger’s grinning at Ash, voice low, and she’s smirking back at him, amused.

“You heard me.” She murmured back, sitting back in her chair, arms crossed and confident.

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit, you can be a right demon when you wanna be.” He chuckled, and Ash snorted, watching as Jer stood up and made her way to the living room, returning with some photo albums, much to Freddie’s chagrin.

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Ash watched Roger out of the corner of her eye, and he held a hand to his heart, shaking his head gently, grinning. Ash leans over, voice quiet enough that she was sure only he’d heard, “but from what I recall it takes two to start a fire.” And Roger’s smile became more genuine as he realised she wasn’t trying to be bitter, but that she was actually making light of their little excursion in Scotland. It’s when he gives her shoulder a squeeze, and Ash feels her own smile soften, that she sees Kristin frowning at her. Ash’s smile drops, and she turns quickly, looking at the photo in front of Deaky, trying to tune out where Roger and Kristin were talking beside her.

Ash has seen all the family photos before, they were pulled out the second time she’d stayed for dinner, and she distinctly remembers Freddie almost face planting into his mashed potato out of embarrassment. This time, at least, he’d absconded to the piano, and was singing himself Happy Birthday to try and drown then all out. Ash leans back in her chair, watching the situation unfold, watching Roger leave Kristin with a gentle reassurance to go sit beside Kash in Freddie’s now vacant seat to look at one of the photo albums, and sees Kristin give her a tight smile from the corner of her eyes, gesturing to the photo album Deaky and Brian were poring over. Ash gives up her seat easily, sitting in Roger’s now empty one.

“I thought Freddie was born in London.” John muses, and Kash laughs. Roger’s got an arm around the back of her chair, leaning in to look at the photo album, but he’s so close to Freddie’s little sister, and Kristin doesn’t seem to be paying him much attention, and Ash feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

“Oh he was, at the age of eighteen!” She grins brightly, and Roger looks up, catches her smile, and objectively Kash is pretty, Ash knows this, but Kristin is right there, and she knows his knee-jerk reaction to pretty girls at this point. Kash turns and asks Freddie about his change of name, from Bulsara to Mercury, which sets off their father, and Roger’s leaning back in his chair, watching Kash speak as he smiles slightly.

The phone goes off, and Kash excuses herself to answer it, and finally Roger catches Ash watching him, and gives her a confused smile, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

The call is for Freddie, and Kash comes back, slotting herself back into the conversation with ease, and Ash is about to throw a bread roll at Roger. When he leans in to murmur something to her, something she knows is far too forward for a man sitting across from his supposed girlfriend, Ash just feels a sinking disappointment, and her gaze drops as Freddie’s father coughs pointedly. Roger’s still got some cooked onion on his plate, pushed off to the side, and Ash doesn’t even care to ask before she starts picking at it, not letting Freddie’s mother’s cooking go to waste and to give herself something to do that isn’t lobbing cutlery.

“Freddie tells me you’re a scientist.” Jer breaks the silence, turning to Brian, who smiles brightly.

“Astrophysicist, actually.” He corrects cheerfully, before his smile turns sharp and he points directly at Roger. “He studies dentistry; he’s a dentist!” He announces, and Roger snorts, crossing his arms, at the same time as Ash almost choked on her food.

“I was never a dentist.” He says, defensive, where Ash’s ‘he was never a dentist’ is more derisive, and Roger shoots her a wounded look, before frowning. “Are you eating my onions?”

“He’s a dentist.” John snorts. Poor Kristin looks confused, Ash pays her no mind.

“Were you saving them for later?” Ash asks, shoving the last of them in her mouth while making eye contact, and he squints at her, looking like he’s trying hard not smile, before Ash turns to the rest of the table with a mouth full of onions; “He’s a biologist, whatever that is.”

The rest of the table looks at her like she’s grown an extra head.

“She said I’m a biologist, whatever that is.” Roger translates through her mouthful of food and accent with ease, and his smile is smug when everyone else makes noises of understanding.

“Everyone, I have some news;” Freddie announces, coming back to them all. He looks a little shell shocked, and the rest of the room quietens down automatically. “That was John Reid, calling from EMI; they manage Elton.” his voice shakes, he’s holding back so much, “someone gave him a demo of our recording, and he wants to meet with us, possibly even manage us.”

The band are in shock. Ash feels like her heart’s bursting with pride as she stands abruptly, moving to throw her arms around Freddie after he’s done hugging Mary.

“Happy birthday, Freds, this is incredible.” She murmurs, and he holds her so tightly, laughing, a little bewildered at the whole surreal situation.

Stepping back, Ash goes to sit back down, but her seat’s occupied, and so she finds herself in Roger’s lap where he’s taken back his original seat. They don’t give each other time to be shocked, just let themselves enjoy the moment of excitement as they wrap their arms around each other in an ecstatic hug.

“This is awesome!” Ash says quietly, and Roger just laughs a little where he’s got his face buried in her neck, hidden for all her bushy hair. It doesn’t last long, Ash hops up and gives both John and Brian hugs of their own, and she doesn’t like to think about how good it felt to have him hug her again, or how Kristin barely speaks two words to her after that.

A week later, the day of the meeting, Ash is laying at the edge of Freddie’s bed, watching him dig through his closet. Both of them were frustrated, and Freddie flung another jacket at her, and it landed squarely on her face, a button hitting her cheek and making her yelp.

“I asked you here to help, Rocket, now please; which colour shirt?” Freddie huffs, pulling out three different shirts, all in different bright colours. Ash bites her lip.

“Freds, you don’t want me to dress you for a business meeting. Business meetings are fucking boring and I hate boring. And I hate grey.” She whined, and Freddie shook the shirts at her again.

“Darling, that’s exactly why I want you to help me; this is a band meeting and no-one’s gonig to care about us if we look like every Tom, Dick, and Harry.” Freddie muses, and Ash sits up, intrigued; “Deaky’s going to dress like a father, Brian’s going to be unfortunately sensible, and Roger doesn’t know how to button his shirts up past his ribs, which might work on girls, but not on executives; please help me convince Reid we have some semblance of style.”

“The purple one.” Ash answers immediately, barely waiting a moment after he’s finished his spiel to point at the bright purple shirt. Freddie grins, already pulling off his shirt to put on the one she’d suggested. Ash makes her way to the closet beside him, looking through all his jackets and jumpers for anything potentially eye catching.

“I was thinking,” Freddie starts carefully, reaching past her to pull at something white and leather hanging up near the end of the railing, “this one.” It’s frilled. Not like the frills of a skirt, more like a frill-neck lizard.

“I love it.” Ash is bright-eyed when looking at it, absolutely enraptured with it. “Freds where did you get it?” She demands, clutching the edge of the jacket in her hands, looking at it with a starry-eyed gaze; Freddie’s never seen her so enamoured with his clothes before, or any clothes that weren’t her own.

“Op shop down East.” He said, flush with pride that she was to taken with his jacket.

“Freddie if you ever lose or destroy that jacket, tell me; this is the best jacket you’ve ever owned.” She said, suddenly very serious

“You’re taking the piss.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “What are you gonna do, make me a knew one every time I lose it?” Ash frowned, looking up at him.

“Freddie I’d kill to work with leather like this, take risks like this in such a traditional medium; the work on the collar is impeccable.” There’s nothing but absolute sincerity in her voice, and Freddie is reminded sharply that most of her wardrobe she’s made herself, that this is the life she wants to be a part of more than anything. “If I get even half an excuse to make something like this, I’ll take it.”

“Alright.” Freddie tells her with a firm nod, taking her by the shoulder. “Well then, Ash, I’m asking you seriously; I want you to become the band’s official stylist; when we make it big, we need to have a look, and I trust you to make us stand out.”

Ash is lost for words, heart beating in her throat as she clutches the leather jacket tight in her hands. Nodding profusely, a smile comes over her face, and Freddie hugs her tightly.

“You’ve got a gift, darling, I want the world to see it.” He says, and Ash holds him so tightly as a laugh escapes her, a little wistful, a little bit dazed.

“So do you, Freds, you’re gonna be a star.” She mused, and he pulled back, fixing her with a fond smile.

“Well then you’d better make sure I look my best.”

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee  @smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah@legendsaresooftenwarnings @2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely@mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times @heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights@yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues@banhbao329 @fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric @rogmobile@cardybenhardy @snacfu @perriwiinkle @the-strange-fan-girl @finite-incantatem-7

[aprettysonnetfic]

Not With Haste

After Warren's computer goes on the fritz, Ben comes over to help fix it.

Pt 2 of Wild Heart. Takes place after Broken Crown but before For Those Below.

Rated T

Mercyverse au - eventual Warren/Kyle/Ben

Work Text:

“I just don’t know what happened. It was working fine, and then that blue nonsense popped up,” Warren explains to Ben, his slow honeyed Texas accent rounding the vowels, as he points at the blue screen on the monitor.

“Blue screen of Fucking Death,” Ben mutters distractedly as he begins the system restore process on Warren’s ancient PC. “You should just save me the time trying to fix this sodding stupid brick and junk it. Start over. Nuke it from bloody orbit. It’s running Windows 7 for fuck’s sake!”

“I don’t want a new computer, Ben, this one usually works just fine,” Warren huffs, feeling offended on his computer’s behalf. It was old, granted, but it worked for what he needed it to do. Ben’s computer prowess made him feel like a Luddite most of the time, especially now as the younger wolf typed furiously on the keyboard in a screen Warren had never seen before.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, Warren, I’ll save your porn,” Ben teased with one of his rare smiles on his face. Warren was normally spared Ben’s teasing, so he’s not sure how to respond. Before he can respond, Kyle sashays into the room to set a loaded tray down on the desk next to Ben.

“Beer and brownies for our savior. Thank god you’re here to save this wretched machine,” he says, then whispers conspiratorially into Ben’s ear, “Please don’t, I’ve been trying to get him to buy something new for ages.”

With a wink to Warren, Kyle very obviously leans over Ben’s shoulders to watch the blond work. Ben smirks at Warren, but doesn’t shrug Kyle off, as if waiting to see how Warren was going to react to his mate being draped across Ben’s back. Warren ignores them in favor of snagging a beer off the tray, cracking it open as he relaxes on the old beat up couch that takes up most of the back wall of Warren’s office.  From this angle, he has a fantastic view of Kyle’s ass.

It had been a month since their fight, where Ben had ended up airing details his ugly past to Kyle in a fit of rage, and tried what he called an attempt at “friendship suicide”. He and Kyle had made up, thankfully, and Ben had forgiven Warren for jumping to the wrong conclusions when he’d come in at the end of the argument. They’d had a long talk on the couch that night, sharing bits of their pasts with Ben, because it was only fair, as Kyle had said reasonably. It had given them more insight into what made Ben tick, and now they knew what most of his hot buttons were so they could avoid them. As a result, the three of them were closer than before, cementing their friendship into something more akin to family.

Kyle and Ben’s good-natured flirting had ramped up since then, too.  Warren knew it was a game they played but it made him roll his eyes whenever they started up with the banter and innuendo. Kyle had confessed one night not too long ago, after a few martinis, he liked to take it just far enough to fluster Ben and make the tips of his ears go pink. Kyle found it adorable and charming, but it happened rarely. Adorable and charming were typically not words associated with Ben.

Since that night, Ben had also become more… Warren figured the closest word for it was affectionate, if you could apply that word to Ben. He’d pretty much stopped turning into his Wolf if he wanted to be physically touched, though he would still do so from time to time, sprawling out over both Kyle and Warren like a large red blanket. Lately he’d start in his usual spot at the far edge of the couch and would slowly creep over as the movie progressed just close enough that Warren could put his arm on the back of the couch and play with his hair. Kyle would crawl between them shortly after, with his back against Warren and his legs over Ben’s lap. The other night he’d even relaxed enough to fall asleep during a particularly dull movie, slumping over against them. Kyle had grinned up at Warren, obviously delighted because he had mentioned how he’d been worried for ages over how touch-starved Ben was.

While he’d been slowly changing for the better over the last year, Ben had made leaps and bounds over the past month. Ben no longer stood outside the door awkwardly every time he was invited over, and had even used his key to let himself in earlier when they’d asked him to look at Warren’s old computer. When Kyle would mention on the phone that he needed to run to the store for the odd carton of milk or a loaf of bread to go with dinner, Ben would offer to pick it up on his way over, with only a little grousing. He’d also pick up other little things he would remember seeing on the running grocery list that was kept on the refrigerator door, just because. Kyle would thank Ben for being so thoughtful and Ben would preen under the praise. Kyle would give Warren a look so smug that he’d have to kiss it right off his face. Ben had stopped turning to look elsewhere now, and seemed keenly interested in what they were doing. He and Kyle needed to have a conversation about that, but they never did.

The changes had also started affecting how he was accepted by the pack, though he could still be just as rude and grouchy as ever. He’d been on friendlier term with people, especially since he had made a point to help set up a server for the weekly game of The Dread Pirate’s Booty at Adam and Mercy’s. He’d even gone so far as to help some of the more… technologically challenged… pack members with setting up the game on their laptops.  Everyone who participated in game night seemed to love how he’d get into his pirate character, Sodding Bart, and several of his more colorful piratical curses had taken root in the pack.

The most damning evidence of his change in behavior was that he’d even stuck up for one of the secretaries at work, a fact that caused a lot of raised eyebrows. Ben got huffy when asked about it because “no one fucks with my secretary except for me”. Adam had called it growth and was very pleased with Ben’s new upward mobility in the pack. He had high hopes that Ben was coming to terms with his personal demons and would continue to thrive.

Warren is startled from his reverie as Ben makes a crude computer joke that has Kyle snorting with the ugly little laugh that Warren loves so much. Ben says something rude about it and Kyle shoves a brownie into his mouth to shut him up. They’re laughing and touching and Warren smiles at their antics, oddly at ease with how close Kyle and Ben are. He’s sure that if it were anyone other than Ben that close to his mate, he’d be a snarling, jealous, and possessive wreck of a werewolf.

His wolf is strangely quiet where Ben is concerned. The wolf trusts Ben, both to keep Kyle protected and safe and to have Warren’s back if it came to a fight. After being a lone wolf for so long, where he couldn’t trust anyone but himself, it felt strange to be able to count on Ben in that capacity. That went a long way, and Warren overlooked a lot of things Ben did that he probably shouldn’t.

Several beers and brownies later, Warren and Kyle are cuddling on the couch looking at their phones when Ben stops clicking the mouse and spins around in the chair to face them. The computer monitor behind him shows Warren’s desktop screensaver - a picture of Warren and Kyle kissing in silly party hats with glasses of champagne that was taken last New Year’s - but there were far fewer files on it than before.

“Your piece of shit is working again,” Ben announced smugly, motioning Warren over to give him a rundown of what he’d done to fix the PC, “I had to update the BIOS to fix the fucking thing, then I updated your sodding antivirus and some outdated drivers. When the fuck did you last run an update on that? There was a bollock’s load of viruses that needed to be fixed, probably from your porn sites, so I installed an ad aware program to take care of the worst of it. Then I cleared some of the redundant files and consolidated the files on your desktop into folders you can click on. If you ever so much as save another bloody thing to your desktop so help me god I will hurt you! I also did some other magic computer shit you won’t understand so it runs faster than a bloody snail’s pace. You’re fucking welcome.”

“You’re pretty ballsy assuming I’m looking at porn,” Warren said with a mock growl. He didn’t understand most of what Ben had just said but was impressed nonetheless. He leaned over and clicked one of the new folders and it opened up to show a number of the files that previously littered the desktop. This would do.

“If you’re going to try to lie, you should learn how to clean out your cache first,” Ben says with a toothy grin. Warren chooses not to say anything else that could be damning and makes a mental note to figure out how to clean out whatever a cache is.

“Thank you, Ben. That was mighty helpful,” Warren finally says as he squeezes Ben’s shoulder affectionately. Ben looks pleased for a moment then starts grousing, poking Warren’s arm with a long, pale finger.

“You still need a new PC. There’s only so much I can bloody do with hardware that’s older than the dinosaurs. You should back up your important files to my private server just in case it decides to take a crap again and I can’t fix the bloody thing. Same goes for you, boy toy.”

“If you wanted to look at my porn collection, you could always just ask. I’d be happy to send you some of my favorites,” Kyle offers breezily from where he was sprawled on the couch, engrossed in his phone. Warren chuckles as Ben’s ears go pink at the tips and mutters that he should fuck off already. Kyle was right, it was definitely cute, but he’d never admit it aloud. Warren didn’t have to turn around to know that a smug smile was plastered on Kyle’s face.

“As a thank you, how about we order something and watch a movie? Ben’s pick?” Warren offers as a change of subject just as Kyle gets up and starts gathering the empty beer bottles and cans. “What do you want to watch tonight, Ben?”

“Actually, I should go. It’s game night at Adam’s place and I have to kick some pirate booty,” Ben says after he swigs the last of the beer from the bottle and sets it on the tray.

“Can’t you skip it tonight? We’d love for you to stay a bit longer.”

“He’s right. Warren, maybe we should sweeten the deal?  Ben probably wants something nicer as his thank you than take-out. What do you want, Ben? You can have anything you want,” Kyle counters as he deposits the empties on the tray and picks it up.

“You shouldn’t offer me anything I want. That’s opening Pandora’s fucking box and I don’t think either of you will like what you find inside. Besides, you want me to miss out on Mercy’s chocolate chip cookies?” Ben asks seriously. Everyone knew Mercy made the best cookies.

“While I haven’t been interested in Pandora’s Box since I realized I like men, I would dearly love to know what Pandora has in it for you,” Kyle teases.

“Cookies, apparently. I wouldn’t put up too much of a fight, Ben. I know firsthand, Kyle always gets what he wants.” Warren deadpans and hauls Ben out of the chair and to his feet only to loop his arm across Ben’s shoulder. Warren exchanges a look with Kyle and they both turn to Ben expectantly.

“Of course I do. I got you didn’t I? Ben, I know we can’t compete with Mercy’s cookies, but can I tempt you with something else? We should take you to that nice steakhouse! That’s the place I took Warren for our first date, and the steaks are amazing.” Kyle sets the tray back down and slides between the two men, wrapping his arms around their waists. He’s tiny between them, just tall enough to just reach their shoulders. He turns his face towards Ben and gives him his best pout, “Please, Ben?”

“Your pouty face won’t work on me, luv,” Ben says with a laugh as he tweaks Kyle’s nose.

“It was worth a try. Tomorrow night, then? You, me, Warren, and the best steaks you’ve ever had. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy being in the middle of this werewolf sandwich,” He says lightly. He winks broadly at Ben then leans his head back to expose his throat as he bats his eyes coquettishly at his mate.

Warren can’t resist leaning down to steal a deep kiss. When he lifts his head, Ben is watching. Again. He suddenly feels acutely aware of how intimately close Ben is. He clears his throat and looks sheepishly at the younger man, “Sorry, Ben.”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show,” he responds, all toothy grin and innuendo. There’s a very slight yellow tinge to Ben’s blue eyes and he holds Warren’s gaze a moment too long before dropping his eyes down to look at Kyle.

“I don’t know if you can handle the full show, Ben,” Kyle replies automatically, head turning from Warren to look up at Ben with a saucy grin. Kyle doesn’t seem to notice the yellow in Ben’s eyes as he leans his head against Ben’s chest with a laugh, “Teasing you is too easy.”

It dawns on Warren that they’re skirting a very dangerous line.  He has the urge to reel Ben closer, to bite him or kiss him, maybe both, and then do the same to Kyle. Both options stir something deep in his belly and he doesn’t want to acknowledge the feeling. The tension between the three of them is stretched tight, like a tightrope that’s ready to snap under too much weight. One wrong move and they’re going to fall. He’s not sure if they’ll survive it.

“You shouldn’t tease werewolves, Kyle, they might bite,” Warren says suddenly to break the tension, as he disentangles himself from the embrace. With a mock growl he tickles Kyle’s sides, just hard enough to elicit a squeal and a reflexive jump from his mate. Kyle wriggles away from Warren’s tickling hands as fast as he can and suddenly, the tension between them is gone and normality resumes.

“That’s right, you don’t want us to bite you,” Ben says as if coming out of a daze, and turns to gather his toolkit from the computer desk. “I’m going to get out of here, but tomorrow you’re both taking me out for this magical steak. It better be as good as you say it is.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll love it. Six work for you?” Kyle says while grabbing the tray stacked with empty beer bottles.

“Thanks again for fixing my computer, Ben. I truly appreciate everything you do for us,” Warren offers, clapping Ben on the shoulder. They head downstairs and Kyle drops the tray into the kitchen while Ben pulls his boots out of the pile of shoes next to the front door, slipping them on quickly.

“We’ll see you here at six. I’m sure Kyle will want us to all go in his Jag.” Warren grabs Ben’s coat from the closet and helps him put it on.

“Damn straight, we’re taking the Jag,” Kyle says as he comes into the foyer and wraps Ben in goodbye hug. “You should have just told him it was past the point of being fixable, but I forgive you. Really, Ben, thank you.”

“No problem,” he replies, gently hugging back then reaching for the door knob, “It’s the least I can do for you guys. I’ll make sure to think of you later when I’m eating Mercy’s cookies and kicking pirate booty. Yarr!”

Warren wraps his arms around Kyle as they watch him get in his red Chevy truck and drive off. Warren huffs a sigh into Kyle’s hair and nuzzles there for a moment. They needed to talk about what just happened upstairs, but Warren was damned if he knew how that was going to go. He’d need to apologize to his mate for the near indiscretion, if nothing else.

“Warren, baby, what happened upstairs? I thought for a second you were going to kiss Ben senseless.”

“I really don’t know, Kyle. I thought I might, too, and I don’t know why. I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again,” Warren admits quietly, feeling ashamed of his lack of control. Kyle turns in his lover’s arms, and reaches up to cup his face and look Warren in the eyes until he continues, “You know I love you more than I thought it was ever possible to love another person, and I am yours for the rest of our lives, but for a moment… I don’t know what I was thinking,”

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. Things got out of hand and it happened. We were flirting and it escalated until you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. I’m partially to blame for that, and I’m sorry, too. I’m just wondering if we’re as monogamous as we thought we were. I thought the whole “werewolf mates” thing put a permanent kibosh on threesomes.”

“Huh. I wonder about that, too. If anyone else touched you, I would probably lose my mind, but Ben, though...”

“I know that, baby. I feel the same way. Ben is… unique… in that has managed to worm his way into our lives so completely that this was bound to happen eventually. He needs to get laid. “

“You think so? You know even having this conversation is a bad idea for a lot of reasons. He’s been broken for a long time, he has issues with touch, hell, and we don’t even know if he’s even really into men.”

“He’s more into men than I think any of us realizes, including himself. Or he’s really into us since we’re safe and he trusts us. Either way, I think he really wants to watch us make love, maybe even do some kissing and light petting, but you’re right about the touch issues. I can’t see that going well.”

“No, I can’t see that ending well, either. Can we forget this happened for now?” Warren asks as he drops kisses on Kyle’s beautiful face.

“So I’ve lost my chance at being the creamy center of a werewolf sandwich?” Kyle mock pouts and bats his eyelashes seductively.

“You’re a menace. I’m going to drag you upstairs and make love to you until the neighbors complain about the noise,” Warren says, kissing Kyle like he was a starving man presented with a feast.

“Mmmm… yes, please? But what about Ben?” Kyle asks as he starts to unbutton Warren’s shirt.

“He’s going to have to deal with the noise, too.”

“I meant about what happened today. We’re basically sweeping it under the rug without any resolution or plan.”

“How about this? If Ben continues to get his life together and gets to a place where we think he can handle us taking him to bed, we’ll revisit this. Until then we’ll be careful that this doesn’t happen again. Do we have a deal?”

“Sounds like a solid deal to me. Now carry me upstairs and show me just how you plan on making me scream.”

“Will do, Darlin’.”

[asidian]

prompt!!! De-aged Ignis :) Is he freaked out by these 3 weirdos? Do the bros try to take care of him? Does baby Iggy take care of them?! Hijinks!

Author’s Notes: Sorry it took so long, bean. Here’s your baby Iggy. :)

===

Not So Very Different

===

When they go to bed that night, everything’s normal.

The campfire’s still a warm glow outside the tent, casting golden light and flickering shadows across the fabric. Gladio’s against the far wall, snoring away in his sleeping bag. Noct’s sprawled against Prompto, boneless and dead to the world. And Ignis is directly to his right, glasses folded neatly in their case and arms folded neatly over his chest.

Prompto thinks, just before he drifts off to sleep, that the pose is like some cartoon vampire, all stiff lines and rigid posture. His brain’s doing the slow, nonsensical loop it always does just before he goes down for the night, and he imagines, very vividly, Ignis dissolving under the glimmer of magic, doubtless so that he can become a bat.

It’s such a good mental picture that Prompto’s still smiling when sleep rises up to bring him down.

The next thing he knows, someone’s screaming. 

It’s a short scream, but it’s shrill, and high-pitched, and it’s right next to him.

Prompto blinks his eyes open – struggles into awareness and pushes himself up to sitting, all in one motion. They’ve been on the road long enough by now that he puts a hand out, ready to call his gun.

He takes in the scene: Gladio, sword drawn and face dark as a thunderstorm. Noct, still blearily blinking his eyes open, struggling to wake as he always does. And there beside him, where Ignis ought to be: a small boy with sleep-mussed hair and wide green eyes, all but drowning in Ignis’ button-up pajama top.

Prompto waits a beat for this to make more sense – waits another, just to be sure. But nope, the pieces aren’t connecting, and he just keeps staring, and the boy just keeps staring back.

“What the hell?” says Gladio, behind him.

And Noct says, “Ignis?”

Prompto swivels his head around – blinks at Noct. Turns back, and blinks at the boy.

There’s uncertainty in his expression – suspicion.

Then Noct says, “It’s me. Noct,” and the eyes go wide and stunned.

“Your Highness?” says the mini-Ignis, and Prompto feels his mouth fall open, because – because. It’s justified, dammit. Ignis looks like he’s all of about eight years old, but that perfect, proper accent is still the same.

“Uh,” says Prompto. “Guys? Why’s he so small?”

Behind him, he can hear Gladio shift forward, presumably for a better look. “Holy shit,” he says. “It is him.”

“Guys?,” says Prompto. “Seriously, he’s like tiny.”

“I most certainly am not,” says mini-Ignis, in that proper accent of his, almost offended. “I’m nearly nine years old.”

Prompto stares at him for a beat. Ignis stares back. Prompto feels like he’s probably in the middle of the weirdest dream he’s had this decade when he says, “Uh. Yeah. Um. Sorry?”

“This is Prompto,” says Noct, like introducing him to someone he’s known for years is the kind of thing you just do every day.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” says mini-Ignis, tone perfectly polite even while his expression says he still subtly resents being called tiny.

“Hi,” says Prompto.

“And you’ve met Gladio,” says Noct.

Those somber green eyes dart around the interior of the tent – linger on Gladio like he’s working out a puzzle, and then, finally, seem to brighten with recognition. 

“Yo,” says Gladio. He stretches out his sword hand, away from Ignis – lets the weapon flicker and fade away in a shimmer of white light.

Ignis gives him a cautious nod in return.

Then his gaze swivels back to Noct. “Highness,” he says at last. “Don’t worry. Whatever manner of magic this is, we’ll find a way to return you to yourself.”

It’s kind of cute. He’s so earnest. He’s like regular-Ignis, all serious business, but with floppier hair.

“Hate to break it to you, Specs,” says Noct. “But I think you’re the one who’s gonna need the help.”

Ignis peers around at them, small brow furrowed. Gladio gives a nod; Prompto offers an apologetic smile.

Ignis takes an unsteady breath in and lets it out slowly. Prompto’s kind of impressed he’s not still screaming his head off. “I’m meant to be older, then,” he says, in a voice that wavers only a little.

“Like our age,” says Prompto. “Give or take a couple years.”

“Ah,” says Ignis, distantly. 

Then he takes another steadying breath in and faints dead away.

== 

By morning – after a very, very late night of discussing probable causes and potential fixes – Iggy’s got his head screwed on right again.

Not long after the sun comes up, he dresses himself in a white striped button-up that’s large enough to be a night shirt, and when Gladio tries to make breakfast, he looks downright scandalized. “Astrals preserve us,” Ignis breathes. “You’ll kill us all,” and Prompto laughs so hard he chokes on his coffee, until Noct has to pound him on the back to get him to breathe again.

Breakfast’s scrambled eggs and toast: not up to Ignis’ usual standards, maybe, but definitely better than Prompto could manage when he was eight. Probably about the upward limits of what he can make now, his brain reminds him cheerfully, and he blushes, and eats his eggs, and tells it to shut up.

“We need an actionable plan,” says mini-Ignis, reasonably, when the dishes are done.

“Dude,” says Prompto. “Are you secretly a little adult?”

Noct lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. “I told you he hasn’t changed since we were kids.”

Gladio clears his throat. “Iggy’s right, though. We’d better figure out what we’re gonna do.”

“Of course I’m right,” says Ignis, a touch testily. “Now: I understand that the most likely culprit is the time daemon you claim we fought yesterday.”

“Yeah,” says Noct. “Unless you ended up trying those weird mushrooms we found.”

Ignis pauses. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and the gesture is so him that Prompto finds himself grinning.

“Don’t worry, dude,” says Prompto, and nudges him companionably. “You grow up to be a pretty reasonable guy. Ten to one, it’s not the mushrooms.”

“Daemon or mushrooms,” says mini-Ignis. “A remedy ought to fix the problem regardless. Correct?”

“You got it,” says Gladio.

“Excellent,” says Ignis. “Then we’d best get moving.”

They all stand there, waiting expectantly, until Noct realizes he’s going to have to actually drive for a change.

===

It’s kind of cute.

Mini-Ignis lasts all of about three minutes in the car before he sacks out in the back seat, curled up on one side, practically twisted in his seat belt.

Prompto doesn’t blame him. They’ve been up most of the night, and he’s kind of dragging, himself.

He still finds the energy to say, “Awwww,” and twist around in his seat to lean over the back and peer down at the sleeping kiddo. “Lookit his little face.”

He’s just getting the camera up to snap a pic or five when Noct says, “You know he’s gonna kill you when he’s back to normal, right?”

“Why?” says Prompto. “Cause I got photographic evidence that he actually sleeps sometimes?”

Gladio snorts, nose buried in his book. “Guess this is what life was like, pre-coffee.”

Prompto snaps another couple of pics, trying to get the right angle – goes to twist back around and face forward again.

A little detail catches in his mind, though: the way the glasses are smooshed up against Iggy’s nose, biting in so they’ll leave a red mark. 

Prompto knows those feels. He reaches back and swipes the glasses – way too big for the kid – right off his face.

“And you touched the glasses,” says Noct, and gives a low whistle. “We’re gonna need two funerals for all the pieces you’ll be in.”

“Dude,” says Prompto, and pokes him in the side. “Shouldn’t you be watching the road?”

===

They stop at Galdin Quay. They stop at Hammerhead, where Cindy coos over their newest (much smaller) addition to the party. They stop at Lestallum, and Old Lestallum, and some little outpost down by a concrete river.

Thank gods Iggy sleeps through most of it, cause he’s awake for the last two, and he judges them like crazy both times they have to go poking in the shop and come away empty-handed.

“None of you remember where to find one?” he says, almost disbelieving, the second time Gladio heads back with nothing to show for the pitstop.

By now, the sun’s chasing the horizon, and the sky’s gone dusky orange with the onset of night. It’s kind of pretty. Prom’s leaning out of the car to line up a landscape in his viewfinder when Noct says, “Sorry, Specs. You, uh. You’re the one who pays attention to stuff like that.”

“And when I’m the one in need of a remedy?” says Ignis, a little stuffily.

Prompto sits back down in his seat. “We’re working it out. Kind of. Progress is being made.“

“Well,” says Ignis, in the most long-suffering tone Prompto thinks he’s ever heard. “I suppose there’s nothing for it. We’d best find someplace to spend the night.”

Someplace to spend the night is a haven in the middle of nowhere, the fire burning warm and golden and the stars spread out above them in a wash of white.

It’s not until Ignis goes to unpack the cookware that something stirs inside Prompto: a memory, half-buried, of a little boy alone in his house, parents away on business. Of scraping simple meals together, night after night, because no one else is there to do it.

Ignis is about that age now.

Prompto almost upends his chair, he gets up so fast. He says, “Hey, how bout I make dinner tonight?”

Ignis looks him up and down, plainly evaluating, and Prompto tries on his best smile. He says, “It won’t be fancy, but it’ll be edible.”

“Edible,” snorts Gladio. “That’s a glowing five-star review, if I ever heard one.”

“Dude,” says Noct. “Last time you tried to make a cake, you almost burned down the kitchen.”

“Lucky us,” says Prompto. “We don’t have a kitchen. And I’m not making cake.”

He makes stir-fry. 

The meat’s overdone, and the greens are kind of wilted, but he delivers on that promise: it’s definitely edible. 

And while Prompto does the dishes, mini-Ignis sits by the fire and re-discovers King’s Knight on his phone.

===

The little store nestled down at the base of Mount Ravatogh has a remedy.

They stand there out front for a couple minutes, mini-Ignis holding the smooth glass bottle in his small hand. “I suspect,” he says at length. “That I will wake up and think this was all a strange dream.” His lips soften into a smile. “I’ll tell you all about it, Noct.”

When he downs the remedy, the change happens all at once, in a glimmer of magic.

One second, a boy is standing before them. The next, regular-Ignis is taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose.

“Well look who’s here,” says Gladio.

“Hey, Iggy,” says Prompto. “Welcome back.”

Noct says nothing at all. His eyes are very wide, and Prompto wonders, fleetingly, whether he’s recalling a much young version of Ignis telling a much younger version of himself about a very familiar dream.

Ignis lifts his head. He slides his glasses back on. “As my very first order of business,” he says, “I’m going to mark our map. Astrals forbid we ever need a phoenix down if I’m indisposed.”

[mittensmorgul]

Lately it seems like Dean has only been flirting with women. I miss seeing him get all smiley around cute guys. Why do you think we haven't been seeing much of that?

Because they’ve been having Bigger Things going on? For the most part? I mean there wasn’t a lot of anybody to flirt with for like, a while now. 13.07 (aside from just talking with Cas, which wasn’t really flirting, but showing care and concern), 13.08 he didn’t really flirt with anyone but a dude flirted with HIM (while the woman he worked with was treated more like a little sister), 13.09 there wasn’t much time for flirting when they were in Full-On-Mission-Mode, 13.10 was he supposed to flirt with the lizard?, 13.11 he was helping Donna find her missing niece... not really appropriate flirting time, 13.12 he only “flirted” because he was literally under a love spell against his will, 13.13 he like... really mostly had eyes for Cas, 13.14 again... doing the flirty sort of goofy nonsense with Cas.

And 13.15 he sees an attractive woman reading a book about demons, asks her about it and whether she’s interested in the supernatural. This woman doesn’t even have a NAME that we hear, and immediately I’m thinking of a number of other nameless women he’s spoken to over the years, but particularly the woman in 12.18 that we only learned by listening VERY carefully to a background conversation was named Carmen (like Dean’s El Sol djinn dream girl in 2.20-- the girl that should never be). He has one “awesome” night with her, and then never even SPEAKS to her again, despite hanging out in that coffee shop twice more afterward. I mean... it was the BS diner. The Cas BS Diner.

Same with the woman in this coffee shop. No name, but she immediately pings a lot of Dean’s buttons. Attractive, I hate to say it but Asian, AND READING A BOOK ABOUT DEMONS. Dean doesn’t ask her name, but immediately asks if she’s interested in the supernatural. Like... Dean... she’s reading a fictional book about demons. That’s probably the extent of her interest in the supernatural. I know you’ve been thinking A LOT about what it might be like to settle down with someone in the life, but I think shattering the “fiction” here is gonna kind of ruin the fantasy, you know?

Dean’s immediately pulled away by the ACTUAL Supernatural, and she’s never thought of or mentioned again. She doesn’t even earn a name. She was one moment of “what if” for Dean. He knew all he could ever have was one last glance over his shoulder at what his life would be like in a coffee shop AU if he was an author and caught someone reading his latest novel. It didn’t even qualify as flirting with intent. It struck me almost as nostalgia, you know?

Especially after SAM was the one who got all the attention from Margaret Astor, even if she ended up being the “mastermind” of the whole mess (I mean, we knew going in this was gonna be the Maltese Falcon, so that should’ve been unsurprising). But Dean pulled some pretty epic eye-rolling while Sam floundered with flirting with Margaret, thinking that might get them the information they needed. But that just goes to show that Dean can just... turn on that kind of charm, even without intent.

And in the clip for 13.16... he kisses Daphne’s hand. This is like... the least surprising development of the 21st century. We’ve known he’s been crushing on Daphne since he was a kid, and in canon we’ve known about this crush since season TWO. 2.11 specifically:

DEAN: Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways ... sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside. (closing his eyes briefly) Mmm, Daphne. Love her.

Remember this was also the episode where Sam and Dean had this conversation a few minutes later, after being “assumed gay” by two separate people in the span of three minutes (Susan offered them a room with a king size bed, using the line about “antiquing,” which the bellhop dude repeated after taking their bags, even knowing they had a room with two beds):

DEAN: Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?SAM: Well, you are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating.DEAN (mocking a laugh): Right.

So, honestly? Does Dean just think Fred’s an idiot for not going after Daphne himself? Is he gonna get his OTP together and that’s why Fred gives him the ascot? I mean... I’ll still take that, you know?

But... none of that’s what you asked for... so. *clears throat*

Do I think we’re gonna see Dean get flirty with cute guys any time soon? I mean, probably not as long as Cas is there for him to be cute with, you know? And Cas is gonna be there in 13.16.

We don’t really know much about 13.17, but we are getting closer to the end run of the season here, which typically means less time for flirting with ANYONE. And Cas is again gonna be in 13.18, we don’t know about 13.19, and that should likely take us into the run up to the end of the season. I honestly just don’t have enough information about what that will entail to make this sort of guess.

I suppose it’s just been a weird sort of “rushed” feeling season, what with Wayward taking up a chunk of it, with Dean spending the first five episodes in the worst depression we’ve ever seen him in, and still by 13.14 fighting himself to actually SAY WHAT HE MEANS oh my god. :P

I think that’s WHY we only get these sorts of 30 second interactions of him with anyone outside the main plot lately.

[murasakiyugata]

John’s Perfect Family

Description:  Fanfiction about John and his pet guinea pigs.  Takes place between the first and second Telltale Batman games.

Warning:  Contains animal abuse.

-

“Tell me the truth, Hazel.  There’s someone else, isn’t there?”  John spoke in a gruff voice, moving the guinea pig he held in his right hand to indicate it was talking.  The creature was beige, dressed in a suit, and very much wanting to be put down.

“Why, I declare, Jeremy!  How could y’all even think such a thang?!”  The guinea pig in John’s left hand who apparently spoke in a rather unconvincing southern accent had black fur, a simple dress, and no desire to be part of any of this.

“Don’t lie to me!” continued John, switching back to the first animal.  “I’ve seen the way you look at that hamster from the discount pet store.  You’d rather be with him, wouldn’t you?  I get it, I get it.  The guy’s way furrier than I am.  And he has a great set of wheels.”

“Hush, Jeremy!  You’re speakin’ right nonsense!  Y’all know you’re the only one for me!”

“Then why, Hazel?  Why can’t we be together?”

“It’s…it’s my pa.  He think you’re too old for me.”

“Too old?!  Well…I was born two months before you.  In guinea pig years, that’s almost a century!”

“I know.  But, Jeremy…I don’t care.  I love you! I plum wanna be with y’all forever!”

“Oh, Hazel!”

“Jeremy!”

John hit the creatures’ faces together while making kissing noises.  Hazel closed her eyes and bowed her head, waiting for all this to be over, while Jeremy struggled to get away.

John let out a contented sigh.  “Oh, you lovebirds.”  He placed them back in their cage, where they proceeded to ignore each other as they usually did.  “Well, I can tell the two of you want to be alone, so….”  He tapped his phone which began playing 80s porn music, and set it by the cage.  He gave Jeremy a wink before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, thoughts of little, furry grandbabies scurrying through his head.

No thanks to John’s encouragements, Hazel did, in fact, become pregnant.  John was overjoyed and made haste sewing the happy couple a gown and tuxedo for their shotgun wedding.  It was a lovely ceremony, complete with flowers, cake, and a plush doll of Bruce Wayne serving as the minister.

In the weeks to come, John spent more time than usual doting on his pets.  He made sure to steal plenty of pickles and ice cream for Hazel, and frequently imparted life lessons to Jeremy that he’d picked up back in Arkham.  John had a lot on his plate outside of his home, but the guinea pigs were rarely far from his thoughts.  Coming home to them, being sure to feed them regularly, cleaning the melted ice cream out of their cage – these helped provide well-needed structure to his life outside the asylum walls.  He was eager for the birth of the pups to the point of frustration, which he channeled into creating several tiny outfits of various different styles.

When John finally came home to find that two new healthy, happy family members had been born, he let out an excited gasp and clasped his hands together it utter joy.  He pulled out his phone, and was about to snap a picture, when he noticed something.  A third pup had crawled out from behind Hazel.  But this one was different than the others – white as snow, with red eyes and adorable pinkish ears.  It was quite possibly the most lovely thing John had ever seen.  He put away his phone and reached into the cage with an uncharacteristic tenderness.

“Come on, little buddy.”  He allowed the little creature to sniff his hand, before gently coaxing it into his palm.  He raised it up slowly, reassuring it.  “It’s okay. I gotcha.”  It was so soft, so cute, and it didn’t seem scared of John at all. Choking up a little, John held it to his cheek.  “You’re perfect.”  He lowered it to look at it again, and smiled.  “I’m gonna call you…Bruce.  You’re gonna do…great things, little buddy!  I just know it.”  He then carefully returned it to the cage.

“So!”  John grabbed Jeremy abruptly and held him up, grinning.  “You and I…we gotta talk.”  He looked at Hazel.  “Excuse us. This is sort of a man-to-man thing.” He took Jeremy into the next room, shutting the door behind him, then set the guinea pig down next to a set of tiny clothes.  “Wow!  Big day for you, huh?”  John started dressing the animal in a new plaid, button-up shirt. “This changes everything!  No more nights getting plastered at the bar. Might have to pick up a few extra shifts at work to make ends meet, am I right?  But, hey, all part of being a good dad!  And you’re definitely gonna live up to the part!”  He finished buttoning the shirt and admired his handiwork. “You certainly look it.”  John cupped the back of his hand to his mouth and lowered his voice a little.  “And, uh…just between you and me?  If any of the kids ever feel a little…um…different?  Just make sure they know you love ’em.  Let ’em know…they’re beautiful just the way they are.  Kay?”  He looked at the animal for a response and, getting none, moved it with his hand and said in a gruff voice, “Don’t worry, John!  You can count on me!”  John smiled and responded, “That’s what I like to hear!”

He returned Jeremy to the cage.  “Your turn, missy!” he said, lifting up Hazel.  The usually compliant animal squirmed and struggled, looking nervously at the cage.  “Separation anxiety, huh?” asked John.  “I get it. But Dr. Leland says you shouldn’t get too fixated on one thing.  We’ll be back soon, I promise.”  He took her into the next room, shutting the door behind them.  For her he had a polka dot dress and white apron, which he fastened around her as he spoke.  “So, how often do you think we should throw them birthday parties?  What’s normal in guinea pig culture?  Once a month?  Once every couple weeks?  We gotta be careful not to spoil them.  Eh, who am I kidding?”  He chuckled to himself.  Once he’d finished dressing her, he held her up and signed happily.  “Look at you.  All primmed and ready to be on the front cover of Better Rodents Housekeeping.” He rubbed her head affectionately.

John opened the door and carried Hazel back toward the cage.  “Alright, kiddos, time for…”

He stopped suddenly, dropping Hazel to the ground.

He looked silently at the cage.  All three of the babies were dead.  Bitten, scratched, bloody corpses.  Jeremy was there, looking relaxed, eating Bruce’s remains.

It was over.

After a few moments of staring, John closed his eyes and clenched his teeth.  “You weren’t supposed to do that.”  He grabbed Jeremy and held him in front of his face, glaring.  “You weren’t supposed to do that!” The guinea pig struggled to get away. “You’re not!  A good!  Father!”  With the last word he threw Jeremy against the wall.  The creature fell to the floor, injured and frightened, but still alive.

“That won’t do.”  John walked over to a baseball bat he had propped up against a wall and grabbed it.  “Not at all.” Jeremy tried to scurry away, but was having trouble in his crippled state.  “You think you can run?” asked John approaching, eyes wide.  “You can’t run from justice!”

He brought the bat down again and again.  Shattering bones, splattering blood, decorating the wood with red pulp.  John didn’t know why he was laughing so hard.  But it didn’t matter.  He kept beating the creature until its eyes bulged from its head and it’s body stopped twitching.

John was focusing on his breathing when he heard a noise behind him.  He turned to see Hazel scratching desperately at the doorframe, trying to get out. John thought back to how anxious she had been when he’d taken her from the cage.  And then it hit him.  “You knew!”  He dropped the bat and ran toward her.  She tried to flee, but he caught her under his foot, then picked her up with both hands and shook her fiercely.  “You knew this would happen!  And you said nothing!”  He looked her in the eyes, a pained expression on his face. “You were their mother!  You were supposed to protect them!”  Hazel struggled, terrified.

“But that’s okay,” said John, his voice quieter now as he squeezed his fingers around her as hard as he could.  “You can join them.”  Hazel felt herself being crushed, felt the air being squeezed out of her lungs, as she struggled desperately to free herself.  But it was no use.  The last thing she saw before she died was her caretaker’s hideous grin.

Once John was sure that all the life had been squeezed from her body, he relaxed his grip.  He observed the animal casually before tossing it over his shoulder. Then he turned and looked at the cage with a frown.

He walked over to it slowly, then very carefully lifted Bruce’s body out.  He sat on the floor and cradled the guinea pig’s corpse against his cheek.

“It’s okay, little buddy,” said John softly.  “I gotcha.  I gotcha.”

[n3rdybird]

A Woolly Hat

Written for @simons-thirst-squad’s  Simon’s Advent Calendar Challenge

Prompt-Woolly Hat

SimonxReader

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It all started with a package left outside his room.  Simon had a rough day, and was ready to call it a night.  Although keeping track of the days, it was generally believed to be near the middle of December.

And if the weather was any indication, it was shaping up to be a cold winter.  Even the hot water afforded to the citizens of the Sanctuary didn’t seem to be enough to fully warm him up.  He kept his towel around his neck, using it as a makeshift scarf to keep in what little warmth the shower had given him.    

So when he saw a bag hanging from the door to his room, Simon was a little confused.  He glanced up and down the hallway, seeing if whoever had left the package was still around.  The dark hallway was empty and quiet, only the ever present hum of machines reverberated through the building.  It was after curfew after all.

Seeing no one, he grabbed the bag and entered his room. He hung his towel up and turned the gift bag over in his hands.  There was no note on the outside, so he assumed it was for him and opened the bag.  Inside was a pair of gloves.  As he examined them, he saw that they were handmade.  The knitted stitches were even and tight, but did not have the appearance of a pair made by machine.   The yarn was smooth, dark blue with brown accents.

When he tried them on, they fit well, keeping his hands warm while still allowing for movement.  Each stitch flexed easily, but stayed snug against his skin.  He pawed through the rest of the bag, but there was no note explaining the gift or who it was from.

Simon yawned, the events of the day catching up with him. Giving the gloves one more look, he removed them and set them down on his desk.  He’d worry about the mystery gift tomorrow.  The comfort of his warm bed beckoned to him, and the fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

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

The next few days passed without incident.  Simon was thankful for the new gloves that had appeared at his door. His old pair had gotten ragged, allowing wisps of cold air to stiffen his fingers.  Now his hands stayed warm and decidedly not stiff.

While walking with Negan one morning to survey the supply trucks that had returned that morning, the aforementioned boss zeroed in on the new addition to Simon’s wardrobe.

“Pretty fancy gloves you got there, Simon,” Negan said offhand.

Simon flexed his hands.

“Yeah, pretty nice,” he said simply.

“Where’d ya get them? Looks homemade.”

Simon shrugged.

“Got left at my door.”

Negan’s eyes lit up and his mouth split into a shit eating grin.

“Oh ho, does Simon have a secret admirer?”

Simon internally groaned. Negan may be king dick in charge, but he could be like a gossipping soccer mom when he wanted.

“I don’t know about that. Probably a thank you gift from someone. The people love their Saviors,” he evaded.

Negan didn’t want to let the matter drop.  After all, needling people was one of his favorite past times. Negan liked to think he was a pretty fair guy, so even his second-in-command was not safe from this activity.

“Wonder if she’s cute? I know there is till some prime wife material running around,” he mused out loud.

When Simon only hmm’d in response, Negan shook his head.

“What’s the matter? Don’t want a little lady to come home to?  Knitting you socks? Shit, that sounds nice.  Wonder what else she could knit?” Negan trailed off as he let his mind wander.

Simon thought about Negan's words.  He had a few companions since the world fell, and never more than a night. It was all stress relief, more like mutual masturbation than anything including feelings.  In the beginning, the world was unstable, too unstable to pursue anything of merit.  Even now, with the security of Sanctuary, the idea of having something serious with someone seemed farfetched.

Simon was broken from his thoughts when Negan’s hand came down abruptly on his shoulder.

“Or… it could be a guy,” Negan said, raising his brows exaggeratedly.

Simon’s groans were audible this time, and Negan laughed at his reaction.  The mustached man cut his eyes to his leader in annoyance.

“What? No judgements here,” Negan said twirling Lucille before raising his hands in a defensive shrug.

A shout drew the pair’s attention, and Simon was thankful for the interruption. Negan gave Simon a wink.

“Enough gossiping, apparently some assholes can’t do their jobs properly. Let’s get to work.”

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

A few days later, another gift was left. Simon opened the bag quickly, and found a chunky knit cowl scarf folded neatly at the bottom.

This time, there was a note. He unfolded the scrap of paper, and smiled at the words written in a delicate script.

Glad the gloves fit.  Stay warm.

Simon fingered the soft yarn.  This time it was a dark grey. Instead of hanging, the ends of the scarf would button under his chin. It was as if the maker made it specifically with Simon’s job in mind. A dark color and no dangling bits for a walker to grab ahold of.

Negan once had a slight mishap when a walker grabbed his scarf from behind.  After that, Negan made sure his trademark red scarf was tucked securely into his jacket.

Simon scoured the note, looking for any clue as to who had written it. The handwriting, he guessed, could be seen as feminine.  The message itself was written on a random scrap of paper.  No hints as to the identity of the person to be found.

As he held the gift in his hand, he was surprised that a literal lightbulb didn’t appear over his head.

The Marketplace. If they were getting yarn, it would have either been a perk from scavenging or bought with points.  As far as he knew, none of the Saviors had a talent for knitting, so it had to be a worker.  Plan and gift in hand, he headed to the communal area of the factory.

Despite the early hour, there were still people picking over organic pickles, new clothes, and other sundries. Simon nodded to several workers before coming to a stop in front of Shirley.  She was in charge of deducting points for purchases and keeping the marketplace in some semblance of order.

Simon gave the octogenarian a winning smile as he leaned on her desk.

“Good morning sunshine.”

The older woman was living proof that the 80s were the new 60s.  She had survived the initial outbreak alone in her house, shot gun in hand.  When they had found her, Negan loved her no nonsense attitude when she berated them for wearing dirty boots inside her house.  And now she ruled the Marketplace with an iron fist.

“Cut the baloney Simon,” she said dryly, not looking up from her ledgers.

“You wound me,” Simon said dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest.

Shirley sighed and looked at Simon, lowering her glasses to put the full force of her glare on him unhindered.

“What do you want?”

Simon produced the gloves and cowl, setting them on top of her books.

“You sell any yarn lately? Knitting supplies?”

Shirley furrowed her brows.

“Not too many people waste their points on craft supplies,” she said examining the items.

“Though these are pretty nice. They’d be good sellers.”

She looked back up at Simon who was looking at her expectantly.

“A name?”

Shirley held out her hand expectantly, raising a brow.  Simon sighed.

“Aw, c’mon Shirl.  We can call it a Christmas gift for your favorite Savior.”

She pursed her lips and flipped through her ledger.

“You find me a bottle of wine. Nice stuff, off the books.”

“Yes ma’am,” Simon agreed quickly.

As Shirley scanned the pages, she found the entry she was looking for and wrote down the details of the purchase.

She handed Simon the information, jerking it back when he reached for it.

“A red, preferably Cabernet.  A shiraz will do if you can’t find one.  Not a pussy Merlot.”

“You got it,” he said, thinking of the wine surplus that the Saviors had squirreled away.

Shirley gave him a long look before handing over the paper.

“Be nice to her. If I hear anything untoward, I will display your balls right here on my desk.”

Simon gave her a reassuring nod, while his balls seemed to climb back up into his body at her words.

“Now scat so I can get back to work.”

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

You sat in one of the greenhouses, knitting needles clacking between your fingers.  The woolly hat you were working on was coming together quickly.  Sure, a loom would be faster, but in your opinion, not as well made.

You had spent the last bit of your surplus points on the new yarn. It was thicker and a higher quality than your previous finds. It was perfect for a toboggan for a certain Savior.  

Elsie, one of the other women working in the gardens had tried to convince you to just give Simon the gifts, rather than leave them for him to find.  But you couldn’t.  You fucked up your first and only meaningful interaction with the mustached Savior, and still felt embarrassed months later.

A shadow fell over you, and you nearly jumped to your feet.  You scrambled to gather your things.

“Sorry Marv, I didn’t realize my break was over,” you said hastily, keeping your eyes down to not draw the ire of your boss.

A hand, slimmer than Marv’s, reached down to pluck the half finished hat out of your hand.

“This gonna be for me too?” a familiar voice asked.

You looked up to see Simon studying the hat’s stitches, careful to not let your hard work unravel.

“What?” you squeaked, not mentally nor physically prepared to see the object of your affection standing next to you, let alone talking to you.

“Your name is (Y/N), right?  Work in the green houses. I asked around,” he said, still looking at the hat.

You chewed your lip, running through all the possible scenarios that could take place.  All seemed to point to disaster.

Simon picked up on your unease and knelt next to you.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.  Just wanted to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said softly, keeping your eyes to the ground, hoping your hair camouflaged your red face.

A warm hand cupped your chin and brought your eyes up to meet his.

“So what reason does a pretty gal like you have for giving an old man like me gifts?” he asked, giving you a smile.

“I wanted to say… thank you. You probably don’t remember, but you offered me gelato on my first day here,” you explained hesitantly, not wanting to revisit your embarrassing first meeting with him.

Simon’s eyes widened when he remembered the event.

“You ran away from me.  Negan busted my balls for days after that.  Said my mustache scared you off,” he said, laughing at the memory.

His laugh was infectious, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly.

“It wasn’t your mustache. I like it.  You just took me off guard. I didn’t expect to draw the attention of the right hand man of Negan,” you explained through your laughter.

“You say that, but you are still laughing. I’m not sure if I believe you,” Simon said, mock pouting.

“I do, I do,” you promised.

Simon looked at you unconvinced.

“Prove it.  Meet me for gelato, tonight after dinner.  For real this time, no running.”

You felt your face heat up, but found yourself nodding at his request.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said.

Simon smiled, and stood up, offering a hand to help you up.  It was then you noticed he was wearing your gloves, and the cowl you had made him.

You took his hand, and he helped you up easily.  After standing, he kept a hold of your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“See you tonight,” he said, bringing your cold fingers up to his mouth to place a kiss on the tips.

You nodded, liking the way his mustache brushed against your skin.

“Tonight.”

[happysen]

I met a guy.

He was just a tourist in this city and we matched on Tinder. Most of his pictures were him and his band and I swiped right cause he wrote Arctic Monkeys down in the profile. Only two days after we started chatting, he set up a date for us. I never had Tinder date before as the only reason I used the app was to read some fucking hilarious profiles or to chat away the temporary sadness in a moment of weakness. That’s why I was a bit reluctant, thinking about actually the chemistry in the conversation was not that, you know, strong. Or to put it in another way, I was shy. But yeah, I took risks, accepting his invitation to dinner cause I didn’t have any other things to do except the trip with the Idiots and obviously, the “Communism” gang from my university was all busy with their internships and “personal business” and I was sick of their bullshit :) 

We met in front of a bar at 6, which I thought was too early when he suggested but agreed anyway and kinda regretted later, wishing we should have met way earlier, idk maybe right after we matched lol. His friend dropped him off while I was waiting for him on my bike. 

“Hey, are you Hannah?”- said somebody.

I turned around and like “BOOM”. It wasn’t as strong as “being struck by lightning” but for a second I bet I looked like a fucking retard. There he was, standing in front of me, holding a helmet in his hand, wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of tight black jeans with black ankle boots. His extremely curly perms were combed onto the front and he had this kind of slightly shy smile as he approached me. The first impression was good, him getting dressed quite neatly for the date I give him that. Not you know, backpackers style with shorts and crumpled tank tops. There was something really classically cool and dreamy about him but at first, I couldn’t really tell and just got that tingling feeling in my stomach. 

He got on my bike and I rode about the Old Quarter looking for somewhere to eat without any specific places in mind and I was lowkey freaking out on the scenario that I couldn’t take him to any nice places. We stopped at a famous sticky rice store and sat down for some. I was always talkative when I was nervous. Guess that’s why I kept scrambling about stupid shit and putting on the most commercial smile I had. For a second, I thought he was intimidated by my gibberish and lost his interest cause he talked quite little but he kept eye contact. He told me a bit about his life in Beijing, the job, his travelling,… Putting up with me when I asked whether his perms were natural or not. Turned out they were natural. *internally screaming* 

He spoke in this gentle standard British accent, very polite, a bit reserved at first. So far the date hadn’t crashed into the ground. Glad. He paid for the food. +10 points for the Hufflepuff (I guess he was a Hufflepuff). We rode back to the bar earlier cause it was supposed to be the Open Mic night and as we shared some common in our taste of music, live music seemed to be a suitable date venue. But yeah it was about 7 and it was too early for music so he got a beer and I had water then we talked. By this time, well I got fonder of him. He was calm, very chilled, knew how to keep a conversation properly without any over the board flirting. An hour or so of music talking and some other small talk, he went to the toilet before we left the bar and I was squirming like a teenager over her idol and had to text one of my close friends to let out a bit of my excitement nearly to the point of explosion. I put it in Capital as I texted that bitch lol : “HE LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING ROCK STAR”. Yeah that’s how I pictured him. Looking like a fucking dupe of Alex Turner while pouring all of that British accent all over my ears. 

I suggested we get out of there and go for a little walk around the streets and come back later for the live music. At this point, I guess I was really into him and I’m gonna tell you why later. He walked next to me and gently moved me to the other side so that he was the one next to the road and the traffic. ;a; That was fucking another 10 points for the Hufflepuff. For better balance (yep, trust me) and you know I like him and wanted a bit more intimacy, I put my arm around his as his hands were in his leather pockets and we wandered around aimlessly while getting more laughter and I think he started to get more loosened up and comfortable. We ended up in another restaurant in an old house and he asked me if I wanted to share a pancake and let me choose the flavour. (+5) We started to talk about food as I started to act a bit like a little bitch about how sugary and fat those pancakes were :’( (shouldn’t have done that) and why I resented this kind of food as my ex-boyfriend dumped me saying I was a bit fat and I was scarred by that. Why the fuck did I say that???? Luckily, he didn’t seem to be offended by my saying on his choice of food. The conversation was smooth, more laughter, he had another beer. We started the topic of ladyboys and other sexualities, laughing it off on the joke that he was actually a ladyboy trying to give me some “services”. Another hour or so, we decided to leave there to get back to the bar and I realized I forgot my backpack at the bar. I told you I was so excited to take a walk with him that I did forget my back. Fortunately, the purse and bike key and phone were in my coat pockets. lol. 

We walked back hand in hand and I leaned onto him when we laughed. It felt so good to have somebody so cute and understanding and chilled next to me. By the time we came back to the bar, it had already filled with people and the music was playing. He ordered a coffee and I had another water lol As people were performing, we quite focused on watching the music and sometimes had to shout into each other’s ears as he laughed at my story and laid his big cool hand on my thigh while taking a sip of coffee with the other hand, still  looking at the band. I shamelessly got mesmerized by his figure in the blue and red light of the stage of the bar and the way he moved his head to the music while still trying to listen to what I was saying. We sat for another hour and the music started to get to my head so I suggested we head out for some late night desserts knowing he has a sweet tooth. 

We went for some caramel pudding, sitting on some red plastic tools on the pavement at 11 p.m and I forgot all about my father, my mother and my cousin who I promised to that I would get back by 10 :) After that, he got into the convenience store for another beer and tea and we got teased by the cashiers who complimented that we looked good as a couple and I laughed happily looking at his confused face cause he didn’t understand a word lol. As we held hands walking out of that store and he excused himself to the toilet, I made up my mind. I called dad asking him if I could sleep over at my cousin’s as it was pretty late and after a while of lying my best, he gave up and agreed. 

He took me back to his friend’s place. Okay so if you’re expecting some steamy sex scene, there is none for you. At this point, to be honest, I was wishing I hadn’t been on my period and yes somehow as a virgin, who was head over heels for this guy, I was shamefully expecting it too LOL He took me to some benches by a lake and he sat on those with a beer in his hand while I stood between his legs. The conversation was pretty stupid, we talked nonsense but I love it :)) I leaned on to his side and he started to caress the back of my knees. For the first time, I touched his face, his beard and messed with his hair, played with the buttons of his jackets and as I was laughing, I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him closer to me. That lasted for a while before I finally sat down next to him, putting my big fat short legs onto his long finely carved ones in fucking black jeans and he pulled mine closer to his chest and we ended up in a really intimate position. He listened to me and my depression stuff, how I got lonely in Japan and even my friends let me down, how I was dumped by the guy I got to know exactly a year ago and got scarred into thinking I was fat and overweight because of him. I don’t know why I did that. It just came out of my mouth and he was willing to listen. We were sitting in the dark at midnight by a lake and I was pouring all my shit on the guy on our first date.

And suddenly he stared at me with these eyes, approaching his face to mine while his eyes were looking all over my face like he was waiting for my permission, and naturally he kissed me. I let him. It was so warm, sending electricity all over my body and my mind just went numb. His lips opened mine and our tongues met, he threw his hand over my shoulder and used the other one to hold my face. I was just so into it and lost for air that I had to pull away to catch my breath. His nose caressed the corner of my lips patiently waiting for me and I let out: “I’m not experienced in this shit. I’m a virgin”. He was like “What?”

For a second I thought he would dump me at the spot and I felt like an idiot. But no. He didn’t pull away, seemed only a bit surprised and only want to confirm what he just heard. I repeated and he said: “ For a virgin, you are quite confident in kissing ”. At least he wasn’t my first kiss, at least I know what I was doing thank god. At this point, the line of the day was spoken: “You taste like caramel pudding”.  I mean fuck me. Are you fucking serious? Isn’t that the most fucking romantic, the cutest thing one person could say after a kiss???? 

Then we kissed again and again and again with some small talks in between that always ended up in us clashing our lips. The bitter taste of beer just got all over my mouth and my lungs were filled with his cologne and shampoo scent. In a moment I was filled with this feeling of tasting somebody's soul, my senses were full of him. It just got more and more intense and passionate and he moved his hand all over my body, slightly squeezing my ass and my breasts and held my face. But that was it. He didn’t try to get into my pants, just pure kissing and small kisses on my neck which I actually wanted more but seriously I was trying my best to contain my shit then.There was a point that I got so fucking close to it I had to pull myself away and said while gasping for air: “ Stop or else I’m not gonna make it out of here”. In response, he just chuckled and kissed me some more. 

It lasted until 1 in the morning and he told me I should get home or else both of us would get into trouble. 1 a.m me and him holding hands under the dim yellow lights of the streets, he leaned for a kiss and I kept saying Stop for a couple of hundreds of times. Speck of kisses all over my face and then we parted ways. Just like real lovers. Even for one night.

[oh-beyond]

Saviour AU - Part 1

He wasn’t rich like the others, he didn’t really fit, but he was part of the group, the rich boys that had investments in one of the biggest companies in the country, they were powerful and handsome and they could get anything the wanted, money had corrupted their every day actions, money that Byun Baekhyun didn’t have, to what extent was he like them?

You were lucky enough to be delivering the coffee every morning, you just wanted to see him, and to see him meant seeing the others too…

You had faith that he was different… just don’t trust him too much he might surprise you, and not in a good way.

Business AU/Angst/Smut in future parts.

Baekhyun x Reader ft. Chanyeol & Lay (Mentions of EXO OT12)

Masterlist

Saviour Masterpost

Part 2 > 

Notorious. The least it could be said about this group of boys. They went to all-boys school near where you lived, it wasn’t a private school, it wasn’t even for rich kids, but everyone knew that they chose to get there to be able to buy their high scores. Other people said that they were in that school because simply they would stand out, in a private school for rich kids they would be just like everyone else, and that is exactly what their families didn’t want for them, teaching them from young age that they were unique and above everyone else.

What drew your attention was that they always were together, sometimes you would be really close to them when their amazing cars with drivers came and collected them from the bus stop near your house. They also visited the convenience store you worked at as a part-timer to get junk. You didn’t know anything about them, just that they were gorgeous, too gorgeous to be just school boys.

They didn’t look the same age, some looked older than you some younger, some were Chinese… All this information you were gathering without really knowing why. Why were you so intrigued? It’s not like you’d ever be able to talk to them.

Your duty was to sweep the floors, those same floors that they stepped on although the yellow sign of ‘wet floor’ was very visible. Rich boys, bratty, sassy, and too unreachable.

One day you were as usual just doing your thing, you heard the Chinese chit-chat behind you, your heart pumped blood faster, they were there, followed by the sound of glass cracking in the floor, you walked to the isle where you distinctively saw the head of the tallest one, there was a broken bottle of soju in the floor, you bowed without making eye contact and lowered yourself to clean it.

“Go get another bottle and let’s go.”

“Guys they won’t sell it to you, you are all underage, why are you like this?”

“Yeah and here comes the wise Lay, Suho hyung said the guy here would sell it to us if we give him a couple more notes.”

“Just go to your father’s office and go wild with all the booze there’s in there.”

“And what will I do? My father is in freaking China, you are lucky, perhaps I should visit Mr. Kim more often in his office.”

“That sounded disturbing LuHan, shut the fuck up and let Kris try and pretend he’s over 18.”

You stood up at all this nonsense, today they were only 8 visiting the store, still intimidating, and what was said about your boss really made your stomach churn. Indeed the tallest one Kris tried buying the alcohol and he didn’t even need to pay extra, he looked old enough, getting a dozen bottles and leaving the store really proud. As you saw them leave you lowered yourself again cleaning the remaining glass cutting your finger in the process.

“Ouch!”

“Are you alright?” the melodic sound of this guy’s cute accent and incredible deep dimples taking your hand looking genuinely worried. So they did make eye contact with peasants, suddenly forgetting about the cut and the blood and everything around you contemplating his incredibly perfect skin.

“I am, I’m alright.”

“Be careful, it’s very sharp, you need help with that?”

“Oh no, please, it’s my job.”

“Yah! Lay, what the fuck are you doing?” asked one of the Korean guys.

“Oh no he is in ‘nice guy’ mode.”

“Maybe she is pretty, let him live.” Teased another one.

The guys waiting for him outside kept mocking him, nevertheless he gave you a tissue before sprinting outside.

“Done?” Asked Kris.

“Do you idiots have a heart even?” Lay was pissed looking anywhere but his friends.

“We are so proud of you gege, now let’s get drunk.”

You watched them walk away happy to have acquired the alcohol being all underage, they were not good kids, but just that Lay guy… he was, you knew he was, so that was enough to get even more attached to these hypnotising boys that all the neighbourhood talked about.

*****

You started really getting too curious. Nothing harmful, you just wanted to see them closely, to know more about them. When you asked your friends at school you were surprised that they all knew about where they hanged out. Most of them were into sports, some more than others and that is when your feet took you to the park on the last Friday of the month, their monthly get together for a session of showing off, it was more of a show than anything else, they loved the attention.

The very tall intimidating looking one Kris was shooting balls at the basket, he had his own fan club of hormonal teenage girls cheering for him along with the guy that was just simply leaning on the basketball pole, doing absolutely nothing but looking like a greek god sculpture. Much paler and shorter, however just as impressive, not sweaty like like the tall one, but his tank top revealed how toned he was. You heard Kris calling him Suho. Every time you learned the name of one of them you got excited. Your feet took you closer to admire them in action and learn more things about them. 

Next to Kris and Suho was a foxy looking tall guy, unique and distinctive, he was stretching before he took a pair of nunchakus that he used like a pro, and wow… was he giving a show or what? 

He was being circled by another boy on a skateboard, he was also tall and was fair skinned like Suho. He had the look of a proper vampire, even his canines stood out as he teased the boy in his martial arts practise, his features sharp and again really intimidating. They were pure work of art, he had broad shoulders that made you wonder how he fitted through doors.

“Move away Sehun-ah.”

“When you learn how to say it properly. Your accent is horrible Taozi.”

“I’m hyung bitch, better than your non-existant Chinese asshole.”

“I’ll call you gege if you say it properly.” Kept teasing Sehun.

“Stop it kids, what’s with you two?”

“Don’t waste your breath Suho, they are just a pair of babies" stated Kris before shooting another ball.

You walked further in the park curious to see the rest, coming to the small football (soccer) pitch. You recognised the cute one from the store immediately. He was way too excited scoring goals, constantly hugging another guy that had eyes like no one did on the face of the planet, was he half feline half human? Impressive to say the least, they were being called LuHan hyung and Xiumin hyung by another 2 boys. One had a beautiful smile cheeky and playful and you heard a few girls commenting about the bright yellow t-shirt he wore to draw attention to him, Chen, the owner of that smile, there was something extremely cheeky about him, apart from being the loudest. The other boy looked plainly scary, his thick eyebrows and his angry yet serene looks gave you the chills, his lips were just too perfect not to give a proper look, D.O was his nickname and he didn’t like to lose to LuHan and Xiumin.

Wondering where the guy with the dimples was, you just had to follow the screams of the excited girls with no life to find out, accurate description of you right now. You’d never ever scream or let these guys affect you too much like the bunch of losers grouped watching them.

But your heart nearly stopped when you saw a sad one sitting on one of the skatepark rails, he was looking at the skateboard he had in hand doing nothing out of the ordinary other that stealing your breath… 

Breathing, yes that is what you needed to do or else you will turn blue.

“Yah Baekhyun-ah! Come on join me.” Exclaimed this tall guy with huge ears dumb looking yet handsome.

“My skateboard is shit, the wheels, they’ll break anytime.”

“Man I told you you can take mine, you are my brother, why do you keep pushing me away? Here take it! It’s not even new, just chill man.”

“I looks expensive, I feel like a burden, you keep doing all the things for me.”

“Of course it’s expensive and you are stupid, just go, come on show me what you’ve got.”

“Really Chanyeol-ah?”

“Yes Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun… 

The name rang on your ear, you were so close you heard the whole conversation as if you were part of it. This wasn’t your plan, you can’t like any of these guys, firstly you were too young, secondly you were nobody. You’ve seen them so many times yet they never saw you, you were a shadow and now you were drooling watching Baekhyun on the skateboard. He was amazing, his hair was dark brown messy atop of his head, he wore a simple checkered baby blue shirt that was opened a button too much, he wasn’t toned like Kris, Suho or Tao, but he just stole your heart and was stepping on it with that skateboard, your eyes following him…

“Hi!” That melodic voice with the cute accent “you are the girl of the store right?”

“Y-e-s, you remember me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? How is your finger? I’m Zhang Yixing by the way, but they call me Lay, it’s my nickname.” He said offering his hand for a handshake.

You offered your hand shyly, he took it shaking enthusiastically “I’m ___.”

“Nice to meet you ___, I am sorry for what happened last time, the guys are just uncontrollable” he smiled.

“Who is this hyung?” Inquired a gorgeous tan boy coming with his skateboard close to where you were, you thought it would be illegal not to sign him for a modeling compny, just mesmerising.

“Hey Kai, this is ___, she works at the convenience store we always go to.”

“That one were we get all the alcohol? Nice!”

“Yo Kai, give me your skateboard.” voiced Chanyeol.

“Where is yours?”

“Baekhyun has it” Chanyeol approached eyeing you wondering who you were.

“Meet ___, she works at the convenience store.”

“Really? I never saw you there, I must say your store is like heaven, your boss is so cool, can he like adopt me?”

They were too comfortable around you, and you were just panicking in case Baekhyun would join this improvised get together.

“I’m Chanyeol, you are cute.” He offered his hand.

“Easy there man! We just met her.” Interjected Kai.

“Yeah doesn’t change the fact that she is cute,” he turned to you “very cute,” he added caressing your hand with his thumb, you pulled it away.

“Yah, didn’t you want the skateboard? Take it and leave.” Shouted Lay when he saw how uncomfortable you got.

“You should be really thankful that ‘we’ are even considering talking to you, look around you pet. See all them girls loosing their panties to talk to anyone of us?”

Did Chanyeol just say panties? Your heart sank to the floor.

“So smooth hyung, as always, I can’t believe you.” Reproached Kai.

“I am so sorry ___, you see some of us are a bit stupid like Chanyeol here, don’t mind to him, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.” Added Lay.

“I think I’m going to go, I am sorry for intruding.” Your eyes travelled to Baekhyun and the whole world stopped, the other guys talking sounded like ‘blah blah blah’ and at some point you didn’t even see them, it was the sky the earth and Baekhyun.

“Not at all, we will meet again I’m sure.” Said Lay with a comforting smile.

Kai and Lay waived at you while you watched how Baekhyun stood with the skateboard, most probably wondering what was that encounter about. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole as you felt their eyes making holes on your back while to walked. Soon a group of 4 girls came asking a thousand questions about them, you just walked ignoring them, earning yourself some nice insults.

They did come again of course. Regularly, you hid in the toilet every time you saw them from afar approaching the store. You couldn’t, you were too weak. You watched his back from the little gap as you opened the door, he was different, he just made your heart flutter, why him? They all were impressive and the aura they had could make anyone sway, but it was him. Baekhyun, the one that made you sway, and no one else.

Chanyeol visited a few times alone, he would look around as if looking for something, or someone. It wasn’t until that day that he asked for you that it hit you. You sighed in relief when your co-worker told him you were not working, she must of noticed how you avoided him when he came to the store.

What you didn’t plan on was to find Chanyeol outside the store when your shift ended that day.

“Not working? Are you avoiding me?”

You jumped and gasped in surprise turning around to meet his questioning gaze.

“Me? No not at all Chanyeol-ssi.”

“So you remember my name, that’s a good start. Are you probably acting shy? Hard to get?”

“Hard to get?”

“Want to hang out with me sometime? Feel very privileged, girls usually run after me, they do the talking normally… but I… so what do you say?”

“I am 16, I am not allowed to go out, I am sorry.” 

You sprinted but he just chased you with his skateboard as you bumped into Baekhyun, you were chest to chest when you turned around the corner.

This encounter made you even more nervous, you touched him and his face was incredibly close to yours, his knitted eyebrows looking at Chanyeol that came right after you.

“Did you just refuse me?”

You looked at Chanyeol and back at Baekhyun who looked just as pissed.

“Let’s go Chanyeol, don’t get why are you so bothered, she’s nothing.” Said Baekhyun after scoffing.

“No one says no to me.” Chanyeol at this stage was enraged.

“Chanyeol-ahm let’s go.” Suggested Baekhyun patting on his friend’s back leaving you finally breathing out.

And that was the last time you saw or heard of any them, last time you saw of Baekhyun.

You graduated from highschool and moved to the city and that story was a childhood memory .You had a highschool crush with one of the amazing rich boys gang from back home.

Your law carrier was not going to plan, training for over 2 years wasn’t paying the bills. Your parents couldn’t keep supporting you, and at your age you felt ashamed as your dream was to be the provider after college finished. The dreams of a naive girl.

You decided to leave your dreams behind and be realistic, working as a barista wasn’t all bad, it was a job, it earned you money, you enjoyed it a lot and learned the art of it. You introduced the hand dripped coffee that earned you a lot of praising from your boss and your customers.

“Yes our barista ___ made the coffee.” You heard your co-worker say to a customer, you smiled to yourself as you poured the coffee.

“Are you ___?” Asked someone nodding your head working away, “your coffee is magnificent.”

“Thank you!” You said lifting your head from the cup to the customer.

It was none other than the guy nicknamed Xiumin, he looked even more impressive than 10 years ago, his hair shorter styled perfectly with some spikes at the front, wearing a very expensive looking suit, his eyes… same feline looking eyes from highschool years, it was disturbing that you remembered everything about him in such detail. You also recognised the other 2 guys that followed him, Chen that looked sleepy leaning his head on Xiumin’s shoulder, he looked much more built fitting his suit to perfection, his hair styled in a way giving a nice view of his glorious forehead, and the boyish looking LuHan munching on a muffin just as beautiful as 10 years ago.

“Your skills are amazing, would you consider delivering to our company? This is my business card, we will treat you good.”

“That’s for sure.” Said LuHan.

“Can we go now hyung, headache…” Whined Chen.

“Get him a double espresso shot, can you do that precious?” Asked Xiumin.

You dusted your apron and fixed your cap, your first day in this impressive corporation, Kim Minseok gave you the advantage to wonder freely in the last floor, as he said ‘your coffee is like no one else's’ you took pride in that statement and thank the heavens that he was a coffeeholic, this just meant coming more often, you had the faith that Baekhyun will make an appearance.

Before knocking the door to Xiumin’s office you heard your own heartbeats as you swallowed.

“Thank you for considering being part of this Baekhyun, please take a seat.”

_______________________

A/N: Thanks for reading, feedback always welcomed ^_^