#also this is a rather late sneak peek but it has been in the barely discernible/kinda ugly stage for a while now so i didn't wanna take pics

[arc852]

20. Sour

Definition: feeling or expressing resentment, disappointment, or anger.

Summary: Grian has finally moved out of his parent's place and is now attending college, Scar with him the whole way. But when his parents unexpectedly come and visit, Grian ends up finally standing up for Scar.

G/t: Grian is normal-sized, Scar is a borrower

Warnings: mentions of buying a person, mentions of having given a person as a gift, calling a person a pet, bad parents, and mentions of past abuse and death.

Word Count: 2164

AO3 Link

This is part 2 to Opulence and takes place several years after the fact! I hope you guys enjoy!

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 Grian finished up his homework and all but slammed the laptop closed as soon as it had finished saving. He pushed the device away and let out a sigh of relief, happy he was finally done.

 University was more difficult than Grian had been expecting. But honestly, he blamed his parents for that. He had been homeschooled for his whole life and while it hadn’t been easy it still hadn’t prepared him for going to an actual college. Of course, his parents never really expected him to go to college. They wanted him to take over their company and in the meantime he could just live off their money. But Grian didn’t want to do that.

 He wanted to make his own way in the world. He didn’t want to have to always rely on his parent’s money. He wanted to earn his own. He wanted to be free of them and independent of himself. Besides all that, he didn’t want to take over the company. He wanted to be an architect.

 So despite the difficulty, Grian pushed through.

 “Hey! I recognize that sound. Are you finally done with your homework?” A voice spoke up from over by his nightstand. Grian jumped a little and looked over to find Scar standing on the nightstand. Somewhere he definitely hadn’t been just a minute ago. Even after all these years together, Scar still managed to sneak up on him.

 “I am yeah. Which means we’ve got the rest of the weekend to do whatever we want.” That was the reason Grian had wanted to finish his homework as soon as possible. He had been so busy with school lately that he and Scar had barely had any time to hang out. So finishing his work with a day and a half to spare left him with plenty of time for him and Scar to catch up.

 Scar grinned as Grian got up. He had been looking forward to this just as much as Grian had. He was looking forward to finally spending more time with his best friend.

 Grian cupped his hand around Scar and picked him up, swiftly but gently. Over the years, after getting much more comfortable with each other, Scar realized he was okay being picked up with being asked. Just as long as he wasn’t contained within a fist. Grian made sure to always scoop rather than wrap his hand around Scar’s form and for that, Scar was grateful.

 They headed to the kitchen and Grian set Scar back down on the counter as he looked through the fridge for something to make for lunch. Just as he was reaching for some stuff to make pasta, there was a knock at the door. Grian looked back toward the door, confused. 

 Scar was also confused. “Were you expecting anyone?” Scar asked, not having been informed if that was the case.

 Grian shook his head. “No.” Grian said and closed the fridge. He looked at Scar. “Hide.” He said, and Scar wasted no time in running behind the toaster. Though he did peek out just enough to see. Grian noticed this and rolled his eyes but unless you were really looking for a borrower, Scar was well hidden. So he let him be as he headed toward his door.

 He opened it up, only to freeze in shock at who waited for him. “Mom? Dad?” Grian said and Scar’s eyes widened at the reveal of Grian’s parents behind the door.

 “Oh! Grian, my baby!” His mom exclaimed, coming in and hugging her son. Grian stiffened but quickly relaxed and hugged his mom back.

 “Um, hey.” Grian said awkwardly, not having expected this at all. “What are you guys doing here?” 

 His dad came all the way in and closed the door behind him. “We can’t just drop in to check on our son? See how he’s doing?” 

 “I mean, yeah, but usually parents call first.” Grian said, trying not to sound too annoyed. His mother finally let him go and waved her hand.

 “Oh, surprises are more fun. And besides, we were in the area while waiting for our next business flight and thought to see how you were doing.” His mom said, still smiling wide. 

 His dad walked more into the apartment, hands on his hips. “Hmm, I wished you had let us get you a better apartment.” His dad said, eyeing the place with barely concealed disdain. Grian sighed. His parents had tried their hardest to pay for the apartment themselves, for a nice one that practically could have been a house, but Grian had refused. Instead, using the money he had earned over the years and saved up to pay for it. He already allowed his parents to pay for his college. Despite disagreeing with his major, they still payed his tuition. He at least wanted to pay for something himself.

 “I think this place is great.” Grian said as he and his mom followed his dad further into his apartment. They entered the kitchen and Grian suddenly remembered Scar. He looked toward the toaster, seeing Scar still peeking his head out from behind.

 Unfortunately, his dad had followed his gaze. “Oh! You still have that borrower we got you when you were 13?” His father asked as he walked over. Grian’s heart rate spiked as his dad reached down and grabbed Scar. Scar yelped in surprise, shaking in the grip of Grian’s father.

 Grian was at his dad’s side in an instant, holding his hands out. “Dad, please be careful.” Grian begged, watching Scar like a hawk.

 His dad rolled his eyes but handed Scar over to Grian, who let out a sigh of relief. Scar was still shaking a bit, so Grian held him close to his chest. “Oh come on, I know how to handle a borrower. I had one myself, remember?” A thoughtful expression appeared on his dad’s face. “Of course, mine had long since died before I turned your age. I’m surprised yours has lasted this long.” He laughed.

 That bit of new information made Grian feel sick. He really hoped it was due to old age and not anything else running through his head. But with how his father had so carelessly grabbed Scar he was suspecting it was far worse.

 “I…I take good care of him.” Grian stuttered out, having to say something.

 “Aww, that’s so sweet.” His mom said. “It’s nice to see you still have your little pet to keep you company.”

 Grian bit his lip. “He’s…” Grian trailed off. It was easier not to say anything, like always. Let them believe what they believed. But Grian was 20 years old now. If he really wanted to be independent from his parents then he needed to not only stand up for himself, but for Scar.

 He was tired of his parents seeing Scar as less than. Scar wasn’t his pet.

 “He’s my best friend. Not a pet.” Grian said, short but to the point.

 A small gasp had him looking down and Scar looked up at him with wide eyes. He had not been expecting Grian to stand up to his parents today. Grian hadn’t either but he supposed there was no better time.

 To his shock though, his mom just giggled. “Oh, of course sweetie. It’s like he’s part of the family. I understand. I had a dog when I was little and I always referred to him as my brother instead of a pet.” She laughed again. “How silly.”

 Grian frowned, dread pooling in his gut. The fact his mom has just compared Scar to a dog was horrible and Grian wasn’t looking forward to the rest of this conversation. “No, mom. Scar is a person.”

 His dad snorted and crossed his arms. “Son, they may look like people but that doesn’t mean they are.” His dad’s gaze went to Scar, who flinched. Grian’s grip grew just a bit tighter, trying to protect Scar from his father. “Has this borrower been feeding you lies? Honestly, they love to say they aren’t pets and ‘deserve better’.” His father shook his head. “It took a lot of training to get my borrower to stop spouting that nonsense.”

 Scar let out a little noise at that, the thought of Grian’s dad training a borrower to be a good little pet sounding horrific. Grian felt the same but he pushed through. “He didn’t have to tell me anything. Anyone with eyes,” and good morals, though he didn’t say that out loud. “Can see he’s a person!”

 His mother hummed. “I don’t like the tone you are taking with us, mister.” She said with a frown. “Maybe getting you that borrower all those years ago was a bad idea.” She glanced over at her husband. He didn’t look happy.

 “I’m starting to think so. Perhaps parting with it would be best. Maybe it's even the reason he wanted to come here and not work in our company.” His father theorized and Grian’s eyes widened.

 “What? No! Scar is not the reason for that, I made that decision on my own.” Grian said, his voice turning desperate. He was starting to feel like he was a kid again, trying to talk himself out of being in trouble.

 “Well, it’s already lied to you about being a person. Who knows what else it’s put into your head.” Grian’s father shook his head and sighed. He then held his hand out and Grian took a step back, holding Scar tighter. “Come on, hand him over.”

 Grian shook his head. “No.”

 His mother sighed. “Come now Grian, don’t be difficult.”

 Grian clenched his jaw, done with all of this. “No! I’m not a kid anymore, you can’t tell me what to do. I’m not handing over Scar, he’s staying here with me.” He narrowed his eyes and used his free hand to point at the door. “And you two are no longer welcome here. Leave.”

 “Excuse me?” His mother said, eyes wide as she placed a hand over her chest, looking offended.

 “Yes, excuse you. If you want to talk about Scar like that, then I don’t want you anywhere near him or me.” Grian said, keeping his stance firm.

 His father wrapped an arm around his wife and glared at Grian. “That thing has seriously poisoned your mind.”

 Grian laughed and shook his head. “No, actually. I think that was you two.”

 His mother gasped and then started to cry softly into her husband’s arm. His father held her tighter. “Well then…you can forget about us paying for your college.” He headed towards the door, leading his mother along. “And when you end up crawling back to us, you can bet that little borrower is as good as gone.”

 Grian kept his face carefully neutral and his father just sneered. Without another word, his parents slammed the door closed behind them.

 Grian let out a huge sigh and practically crumbled to his knees onto the floor. That whole conversation had left such a sour taste in his mouth. But it had needed to be done. He brought his hand away from his chest and opened it up more to check on Scar. “You okay?”

 Scar nodded, though he looked more than a little shaken up. Scar met Grian’s eyes. “M-Maybe you should have just not said anything though…cause now your college--”

 Grian cut him off. “I don’t care about that. I’ll get a job or take out a loan or something. There are other ways to pay for it.” He said and then he brought Scar closer to his eye level. “I care about you Scar. And I’ve let my parents get away with saying things about you for too long.” He brought his head closer and gently rested his forehead against Scar’s before closing his eyes.

 Scar pressed back, his small weight familiar and calming. “Thank you, Grian.”

 Grian hummed and then lifted his head and looked at Scar. “No, Scar. Thank you. I think…it’s because of you I didn’t turn out like them.”

 Scar shook his head and laughed a little. “No, I think that was all you G. You’ve never been anything like your parents for as long as I’ve known you.” Scar smiled. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

 Grian smiled and used his free hand to wipe away a stray tear. He stood up and went over to grab his phone. “How about we finally have some lunch? I don’t know about you, but I am starving.”

 “Sounds great! I’ve got quite the appetite myself.” Scar said and Grian grinned, starting the call to order them a pizza.

 It would be a bit more difficult without his parent’s help but Grian was confident that he didn’t need them. He was determined to make his own way, as far from them as possible. 

 As the pizza came and they sat and ate together, talked with each other, laughed together. Well…Grian knew they were gonna be okay.

[forever-fan]

My FNAF Hyperfixation has inspired me!

So I've been reading a bunch of FNAF time travel fix-it fics. If you don't know what I am referring to, they are basically fics where Michael/William/Henry/basically anyone else finds themselves in the past by some circumstance. They then try to fix the future.

Now that you know what I'm talking about I can actually get to the point. I have decided to write a FNAF time travel fix-it fic. It is tied to an AU, so don't come at me about "canon". Here is a sneak peek at it.

-

Michael wished he died in the fire. Well, technically he was already dead. He had no pulse and he couldn't breathe. His brain had long since stopped working and he got his energy from Remnant rather than digesting food. In all reality, he was a stubborn spirit trapped within his own corpse.

Michael hadn't died in the fire that Henry had set. Hell, his body was barely harmed. All he remembered was passing out before waking up in a random alley. Michael realized someone saved him, but now he was even more alone than ever before.

When the Mega Pizzaplex opened on top of Michael's old restaurant, he knew there would be trouble. Sure enough, there was. Michael took a job as a security guard and found that, while they weren't murderous, the animatronics weren't quite right.

Michael also found his fellow guard, Vanessa, to be a little shifty. She turned out to be way more than shifty when she pushed him into the daycare ball pit from a height that would have maimed or killed anyone else.

Michael's afterlife only got worse when he emerged from the ball pit and found that he was back in Fredbear's Family Diner in 1980.

-

This short introduction obviously doesn't tell you all the fun little headcanons that I have for this fic. I guess you'll just have to read it to find out. Of course, I haven't written in yet. But! I am so hyped about the movie that I think I'll probably finish the first chapter before twenty-four hours have passed.

[Edit: My entire document on Microsoft Word deleted itself from reality... RIP. So... I'm rewriting the first chapter all over again. :> And trust me, I looked through all of my files and drives. Let it be known, I have turned on auto-save cause it sucks to rewrite dialogue, and know for a fact that it's not the same as it was. Also, I lost a doc with half of my headcanons for a different fnaf au. Sadness.]

Real quick, I do have only a little bit of important information for anyone who wants to understand the timeline. (Also so I can remember the basic timeline I made for myself.)

Original Timeline

1968 - Michael is born.

1973 - Elizabeth is born.

1974 - Charlie Emily is born.

1975 - Evan is born.

1980 - William discovers something called Remnant.

1981 - The Missing Children Incident happens and Fredbear's barely stays open.

1982 - William begins to create the Funtimes to harvest Remnant.

1983, March - Elizabeth dies at her friend's birthday party, three days after Circus Baby's Pizza World opened.

1983, August - Evan dies a week after the bite of '83. (FNAF 4)

1983, August - Mrs. Afton [Yet to be named] dies after driving her car off a cliff.

1983, October - Charlie is murdered by William at her own birthday party.

1986 - Michael goes to college to get away from the tragedy and gets a little therapy.

1990, April - Michael receives a letter from his father asking him to find Elizabeth.

1990, June - Michael dies in the Sister Location. (FNAF 5)

1991, January - Michael assumes the name 'Fritz Smith' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria before being fired on his first day. (FNAF 2)

1993 - Michael uses the name 'Mike Schmidt' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. (FNAF 1)

1993 - William dies in the Spring Bonnie suit

2000 - Michael works at Fazbear's Fright. (FNAF 3)

2010, Late December - Michael opens Freddy Fazbear Pizza Place. (FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2010, Early January - Henry sets the fire, and Michael survives. (Still FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2020, July - Michael works at the Mega Pizzaplex and is pushed into the ball pit only six days before the events of Security Breach.

Time Travel Timeline

[To be edited as chapters are added. Peek under the cut only if you have read the most recent chapter, or if you don't give a shit about spoilers.]

1980 - Michael arrives in the past. He is not happy.

[nonhumanresources]

Late Night Snack

A while back I drew a dragonair who lives inside of a slushie machine. I loved the idea and eventually ended up with Ryuukah, a slime dragonair made entirely out of some kind of sugary candy sludge. Here's their backstory, alongside their friend Bailey!

This one is a personal favorite of mine. I think I did a good job getting down personalities and making them properly serious while still keeping the topic the absolute opposite of that. I had been doing mostly story-related TF at the time and I decided to indulge in some utterly ridiculous and excessively detailed transformation scenes because I am normal about certain topics. So, fair warning that it's dumb, but that's where I thrive, so it also happens to be some of my better writing.

Summary: Two urban explorers find out the hard way why you should not break into an abandoned Sinclair and drink strange glowing liquids.

What to expect: TF and TG (female to nonbinary). Lots of slime, goofy conversations between deeply unserious friends, and a little bit of crime.

Length: 7.9k words.

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Rika leaned against the gas pump, lips parted in a grimace, chewing on a toothpick. Her expression spoke of hard times. The creases in her face were deep canyons across its desert expanse, a simulacrum of the dusty ground she called home, cast in the harsh orange light of sunset. Her blonde hair was streaked with grime and pulled back against the nape of her neck. She spun the handle of the pump around a finger, flicked open the lid of her Chevy’s tank, and jabbed in it. 

The artistic illusion was only somewhat ruined by the pump nozzle dropping straight to the asphalt with a loud crack and the fact that the only thing that came out was dust and several spiders rather than gasoline. Not to mention that ‘sunset’ was just street lamps out by the road. Bailey raised an eyebrow at her, arms folded and foot tapping. 

“Done with playtime?” she asked. 

Rika gestured at the nozzle. “Clearly you weren’t imagining hard enough.” 

“I thought we were here to trespass.” 

“I’m here because my family has fallen on hard times during the Dust Bowl, and with my husband dead, I’m the only one supporting them. I’m filling the tank with the last of my money. I’ll have to pawn my mother’s ring to afford tonight’s dinner.” The orange light of fluorescent bulbs reflected off of Rika’s hand as she held it up, showing off a simple yet elegant diamond ring on one hand (that was really just a small band of polished stone). 

“Funny, I could have sworn that you were a scrappy young woman making her way in the big city for the first time, coated in grime from a hard day’s work on the farm and ready to protest.” Bailey waved her hands about, gesturing at, presumably, all the new-fangled high rises being put up by the day. What a strange time to live in, she seemed to say.

Rika smacked her forehead. “So THAT’S why!” 

“Why what?” 

Rika pushed off of the gas pump, the old plastic labels stuck to it crumbling beneath her touch, faded Sinclair green smearing on her trashy hoodie. “Why the pump fell, obviously. 30s Chevys have the tank inlet in a COMPLETELY different position than 50s models,” she explained, brushing past Bailey. “Hey, I thought we were here to vandalize stuff. What are you doing standing around?” 

There's your sneak peek! Rest of the story under the cut. If you prefer to read it on Google Docs, you can do that right here. As always comments, questions, and thoughts are always welcome! If people want it maybe I'll go add some author's commentary to the doc. Thanks for reading!

“Debating whether a crowbar or a Snickers would shut you up faster,” she replied, aiming an open-handed whack at Rika’s head. She ducked it, barely, and grabbed Bailey’s arm, pulling her towards the skeleton of the 6-Ten convenience store attached to the old gas station. Her friend let herself get pulled along, laughing. 

Gods above, Rika missed this. It had been AGES since they’d found a good dive. It was like no one went out of business these days, which was frankly just unfair. What were all the enterprising urban explorers supposed to do without abandoned places? She was positively wasting away. Fortunately, Bailey’s eagle eyes had saved the day once again, and within a few hours they were scouting out the abandoned Sinclair. It wasn’t really that old—two, three decades at most—but it appeared almost untouched, which was a rare commodity. This was just the thing they needed to get back into gear.

Rika and Bailey walked around to the back of the defunct convenience store, out of the dim orange light and into the darkness. They stepped up to an old employees only door, boarded up and spray painted over with dozens of tags. As one, they each pulled a crowbar out of their backpacks and swung it in front of the other, swapping them over to the other person. It was a ritual they’d come up with as kids and never quite dropped, despite all the other myriad handshakes and secret codes that had since fallen to the wayside. 

They worked in tandem, prying at the rusted nails until they snapped. Rika caught the first board when it popped off the door and set it on the ground carefully. Her clothes were quickly covered with splinters, but that was the reason for the old hoodie and torn jeans. Better to toss it in the garbage somewhere than go home looking like a cactus and have to pick all the splinters out later. She removed a particularly nasty chunk of wood from the crook of her elbow and stood back up, digging her crowbar into the next piece of wood, letting Bailey catch the next one. A few of the planks splintered into bits as soon as it made contact. How have these not disintegrated by now? Rika wondered, stacking the pieces into a neat pile. She laid each one down slowly, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You never knew who would be out and about at this hour. Of course, the sounds of nails tearing out of wood were already quite loud, but there was no need to make even more noise. 

Bailey popped the last plank off into Rika’s waiting arms. She set down her crowbar and tried the door. It was locked, of course, and she bent down to inspect the handle. 

“Think it’s too rusted out for a pick?” she mused, pulling a penlight from her pocket and shining it into the small lock. 

“Only one way to find out,” Rika said, reaching into her backpack once more. This time she pulled out a small plastic case. Inside was a set of lockpicks of various sizes and shapes. She grabbed two with clearly worn handles and snapped it shut, kneeling in front of the door and getting to work. Lockpicking wasn’t too hard, once you knew the theory; a set of pins kept the chamber from rotating, and your job was to get those pins to stick in their proper places. A torsion wrench kept them steady while a pick pushed them up and down, looking for that signature click. Simple in theory, less so in practice. Bailey waited with her back against the wall, keeping her eyes peeled for figures in the dark. 

This was what it was all about. A set of eyes watching the road, another focused on a lock. The constant threat of discovery sending a delicious chill down your spine. Deft hands working their magic. How had they gone so long without this? Rika relished it. They’d used to go urbexing all the time, a few years back. Sewers, tunnels, abandoned lots, construction sites, you name it, they’d searched it. Most weren’t strictly illegal, though cops tended to ignore that detail. Rika had learned to be careful, and despite the year or two without a jaunt in the dark, she hadn’t lost that skill. 

She didn’t really know why they’d stopped. It had been a few months before either one realized just how long it had been without an outing. There were only so many old houses one could break into before the magic wore off somewhat. Maybe that was it—too many trips all at once, and they’d just gotten tired. 

“You know, I think about how we got here sometimes,” she commented, glancing up at Bailey. Her friend raised an eyebrow at her. 

“The road?” she said dryly. 

“Not physically here,” Rika went on. “You know. Here. Doing this.” 

“If you wanted to second guess breaking and entering—”

“Stealing the Queen’s diamonds.” 

Bailey groaned. Rika grinned as her wrench suddenly twisted, the lock choking out specks of rust as it spun. 

“You first, Miss Bond!” she declared, pushing herself up to her feet. 

“I’ll leave a tiara for you to grab,” Bailey said, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky I put up with your imagination, Lady Spy. Otherwise I’d leave you to the Royal Guard.” She tried to elbow Rika as she pulled the door open, the rusty hinges protesting. 

“I’d just come back for the sequel,” Rika declared, deftly avoiding the blow once more. Bailey shook her head and flicked on a much larger flashlight, slipping into the convenience store. Rika stowed her tools and grabbed her own, following.

The inside of the 6 Ten Quick Stop was, predictably, dilapidated. They’d entered into an employee lounge. Several hard-backed chairs and tables were scattered across the floor haphazardly, a few lockers sitting against one wall alongside a desk. Rika and Bailey quickly sifted through the few drawers built into it, searching for keys in case there were other locked doors, but the desk was cleaned out save for some paper clips and old balls of lint. A thankfully open door opposite to the exit led to a short hallway. There were bathrooms set across from the lounge, with the rest of the building down to the right. After opening a few lockers and finding nothing of note, they moved out into the hallway and into the convenience store itself. 

Shelves of assorted junk food, auto supplies, and random knick-knacks ran through the store’s center, with broken fridges and freezers along one side. The back wall held outdated soda fountains and coffee dispensers. Lights and panels hung from the ceiling like guts dangling from the chest of an enormous beast. Rika and Bailey stepped out of the hallway, avoiding the debris that covered the floor. It was a mix of animal droppings, trash, and glass shards, something seen in most places like this.

“Look at this stuff,” Rika commented, walking down an aisle. “This place really is old. I haven’t seen some of this candy since I was a kid.” Many of the plastic packages were still hanging up on hooks, though many had been knocked down by time and rats. She picked up a packet of Yogos, which had long since melted into a solid lump at the bottom of the bag. 

Bailey snorted from an aisle over. “I think putting this many bubble letters on anything should be a crime.” 

Rika laughed, replacing the Yogos and moving on. Many of the brands she recognized, still robed in their turn of the modern century garb, jarring fonts set against faded neon colors. Most of it was candy and junk food, of course. This place was a sugary time capsule. She gave the shelves of automobile oil a wide berth—the plastic cans had long since developed holes, leaving a noxious stain on the floor. The freezers had suffered a similar fate, calcified stalactites hanging from the bottom of the doors. 

Despite being nearly untouched, there were still signs of life. Some of the glass fronts on the fridges were shattered, especially those that used to hold alcohol. Those bottles were either gone or scattered across the floor. Bailey moved up behind the counter and reported that the cash register was broken and empty, most of the drawers ransacked. It was all typical miscreant behavior; the only abnormal detail was the lack of destruction. It seemed only a few people had set foot in here during the entirety of its abandonment. One or two windows had rings of glass on the tile below them, boards covering the holes left behind. Had no one else bothered to try and get in save those initial few? This wasn’t a busy place; maybe there just weren’t enough people around to care. 

Rika stopped her scan of the store, brows furrowed. She turned her light back on the ground. There, a trail of wrappers brushed to the sides led out of her aisle, towards the back of the small building. It wouldn't have caught her attention, save for one fact: each and every one was blue. 

She followed it, stepping carefully around a puddle of what looked like old cheese dip. Had one of the previous explorers had a fondness for a particular flavor profile? Why bother opening up this much old junk food? It couldn’t have all been edible, unless this was an especially old trail. The wrappers piled up against a counter on the back wall, and she raised her light up, looking for an explanation. There was even more plastic covering the counter, all surrounding an ancient slushie machine. A slushie machine that glowed. 

Rika nearly dropped her light in shock. She strode forwards, plastic crinkling underfoot. The glow was faint enough that their bright flashlights had masked it, and she had to aim her light away to properly see it. How did the thing still have power? Surely nothing in here had worked in years. But… no, the glow wasn’t coming from the usual lights hidden behind the plastic casing, it was coming from inside the tank itself. The slushie machine wasn’t anything special: rollers stained from years of use and subsequent disuse, plastic grimy, the paint flaking away. For some reason, though, it seemed to contain a pool of… something. It looked like some sort of mush, deep blue in color. It oozed out the nozzle, staining the tray beneath it. It was this strange ooze that was glowing, not the machine itself. The light was a soft blue, glimmering like some sort of strange bioluminescence. 

The sludge wasn’t perfectly smooth—it was full of bumps and ripples. Was that the fate of all the candy wrappers she’d seen? It was like someone had melted just about every piece of blue candy in the convenience store together inside the machine and tried to use it as a mixer. The result was a sort of lumpy mass of oozing sugar paste that was an incredibly vibrant blue. It was like an experiment gone wrong. Regardless of its strange, messed up origins, she still didn’t understand the glowing. Plus, it didn’t have a speck of mold on it, something that should have consumed this mess long ago. 

“Hey Bailey, come look at this,” Rika called. Setting her flashlight down on the counter so it could illuminate both the machine and the surrounding area, she fished around in the storage cupboard underneath it, pulling out a package of paper cups. Prying the lid off the slushie machine, she reached in and scooped up a bit of the sludge. Instead of a hard surface, it had a consistency like extra thick syrup, and she easily managed to gather a bit of goop in the cup. 

“What is that?” Bailey asked with disgust as she walked up to Rika. “You cooking up mad science back here?” 

“No clue,” Rika responded. “It was here already. Wanna try some?” She proffered the cup to Bailey. 

“Are you joking?” she spat. “Leave that stuff alone, it’ll probably kill you.” 

Rika grinned. She’d seen the wrappers of just about everything that had gone into the slushie machine—all of it was proudly nontoxic and full of preservatives. All of it that she knew of, at least; it could very well be full of rat poison. It could have even been a poor attempt at sugared moonshine, for all she knew. She somehow doubted it, though. Anyone who bothered to open up that much candy was clearly looking to eat something strange. “Come on,” she prodded. “It’s the Fountain of Youth! You could be young forever, free to break into buildings for the rest of time!” 

“If that’s the Fountain of Youth, I choose growing old.” Bailey crossed her arms. “C’mon, you did your food handlers permit. We both know that stuff has been out for way too long to be safe.”

Rika shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m living forever.”

Then, she tossed the cup back and downed the glowing sludge. 

She knew it was a bad idea. Clearly the stuff was long since bad, if it was somehow giving off light. However, with the emotional high of getting back out into the dust and debris of a new expedition, she was already feeling a little reckless, and so she couldn’t resist her absolute favorite pastime: messing with Bailey. 

The scream Rika got from her made it all worth it. 

The sludge itself was an intense, sugary slap to the face. She coughed, surprised. She’d braced herself for something rancid and rotting, but the sheer force of artificial sugar was nearly as bad. It was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted in a way that wasn’t necessarily pleasant. She coughed, spitting it back into the cup, but it clung to her teeth and tongue. She had to swallow a few clinging strands. 

Bailey was swinging her flashlight, yelling. “I can’t BELIEVE you’d be such an IDIOT! Do you even KNOW—” she ranted, grabbing a plastic water bottle out of her pack and tossing it at Rika viciously. Rika was only half listening. She fumbled the catch and the bottle smacked into her shoulder, bouncing across the ground. She snatched it up and twisted the top off, dumping water into her mouth and swishing it around. The cup had been dropped to the floor, abandoned. She spat water and slime onto the old tile, laughing. That only seemed to make Bailey more furious. 

“I am NOT paying for your stomach pump this time. Got it?” She fumed, accusing finger jabbed in Rika’s direction. 

“Fine, fine, I get it!” Rika relented, raising her hands in defeat. “Hospital bill is on me, if I even need one. Besides, you should have seen the look on your face, dude. That’s worth any bill.” 

Bailey actually growled at her. “Only you, Rika. Only you.” She folded her arms, the simmering rage cooling off somewhat. Throwing something at Rika had probably helped, even if it was ostensibly to assist her. “You’ve got garbage smeared all over your mouth. Wipe that shit off before it eats through your grin, god only knows how bad it is for your teeth.” 

Rika swiped her hoodie sleeve across her mouth, making sure to avoid the splinters in it. Bailey was right; she’d rubbed off a big glob of the stuff, making her sleeve glow blue. Her mouth was tingling slightly—probably the sugar giving her a whole spate of cavities. The sensation made her nose itch. She ran her tongue along her teeth, trying to dislodge any other bits of the weird glop, but something about her tongue felt off. It was like it had never properly felt her teeth before, and she shivered, pressing it against them to try and force the feeling away. 

“Not much else here,” Bailey sighed. “I’m ready to beat it when you are.” 

Rika nodded absently. She opened her mouth to say something, but the itch in her nose stopped her. She sniffed, rubbing it, but the sensation refused to eb. It built up more and more, the mint-like tingling in her mouth making it worse. She scrunched up her face, knowing where the feeling was heading. Indeed, it built to a crescendo in her sinuses, and she hunched forwards with a powerful ACHOO! The sneeze was dizzying in its intensity, feeling almost as if she’d launch her nose straight off her face. No time to cover it with an elbow; both hands flew to catch it, but they slapped against  something round and flat instead of the familiar, irregular curves of her face. It still felt like her nose and mouth, but they were swollen, misshapen. When she tried to pull them back, they seemed suctioned in place on her face, disconnecting with a small sucking noise. They were coated in the blue goop, clearly visible in the light of her flashlight, and strands of it stretched between them and her face.

“If this is another prank, I swear…” Bailey snarled, seeing the sludge in her hands, but the sight of Rika’s face made her peter off. Rika pretended to be an actor, with all her made up stories, but she hardly ever used actual props. Whatever had happened, it was enough to stop Bailey in her tracks, hand unconsciously reaching up to feel at her own face in shock. 

Looking around, Rika tried to find any sort of reflective surface. Her head swung heavily, its very momentum somehow altered with extra weight. Her eyes landed on the dark windows on the opposite side of the store—the  light of the flashlight left them impossible to see through, useful only as mirrors in the dark. Even in their layers of grime, she could tell that something was very, very wrong. 

Rika had a bright blue snout. 

It was quite large, taking up most of her face where her mouth and nose had previously been. The snout was squarish and rounded at the edges, slitted nostrils set on the front. The snout was slightly parted in shock. Its wide and blunt shape was most definitely reptilian. It reminded her of a ball python—a friend kept one as a pet, and she’d held it a few times. She tentatively wiped a finger across it, leaving a small divot where it disturbed the soft surface. She could feel the finger as it passed across the surface, sinking into it. It wasn’t only bright in color—it actually glowed, like the sludge in the slushie machine. 

“Wha…?” she tried to say. Before she could pronounce the ‘t,’ her tongue unfurled from the snout like a ribbon, drooping a few inches below her besnouted chin. It too was enveloped in a cerulean glow, and the end was now forked, like that of a snake. In her distant reflection, she could barely make it out. Bailey stumbled back, away from Rika, falling against one of the shelves of junk food. 

“What the hell is happening to your face?” she yelled. Rika could only shake her head in response; she couldn’t actually figure out how to get her tongue back into her mouth in order to talk. It just… wiggled, instead of doing what she told it. The whole snout felt strange to operate. It was like operating a long pair of tongs. She worked her face, snout twisting, hissing on accident as she managed to pull her tongue back inside and clamp her jaws shut. Her tongue and her snout. It wasn’t some strange thing that had attached itself to her face—her face had taken on an entirely new shape, now. 

That same tingling she’d felt in her mouth began to spread. She could feel her throat and stomach as if they’d been outlined in an x-ray, the strange sensation covering them like she’d swallowed menthol. It burned across her hands where they were slathered in blue slime.

Uh oh. 

Rika doubled over, holding her stomach, eyes watering. She tried to wipe the goop off, but no matter how hard she tried, it just seemed to smear across her clothes and leave them with a blue layer. She hissed again, still flexing her snout, trying to get it to do what she wanted. Bailey hovered nearby, face pale. She was finally able to squeeze out a few words through the snout. 

“Just… go get some paper towels!” Rika gasped, tongue flopping out again unbidden. Bailey nodded and darted towards the hallway and the bathrooms beyond. There probably wouldn’t be anything useful; Rika didn’t really care at the moment. Her stomach felt like a cold bonfire had been lit inside of it, icy flames licking the sides, sending chills through her body. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it was nonetheless incapacitating. 

Rika lowered herself to the floor, back against the wrapper-covered counter. The icy feeling had her whole body shivering, now, her snout locked into a grimace. Her fingers and toes clenched, both responding sluggishly. She tried to ignore the changes to her face, but the blue lump in the center of her vision made that impossible. 

Some detached part of her mind pondered the situation. It revised her earlier assumption: perhaps eating glowing gunk she scraped out of a defunct machine in an abandoned gas station convenience store hadn’t been worth the prank. 

Something felt off with her shoes. They were sturdy tennis shoes, well worn and comfortable. Rika pushed at the heel of one with the toes of her other foot, trying to slide it off, but she’d tied them tight—important for quietly sneaking about. You wanted shoes that wouldn’t slip from your feet like flip-flops. Unfortunately for her, that made them nigh impossible to shove off when you were wracked with goo-induced shakes. The discomfort quickly became pressure and pain, as if her sneakers were shrinking around her feet, compressing them from all sides. She winced, pressing them against the floor, trying to lessen the squeezing pain in any way she could. It built and built, nearly enough to make her cry out. Either her shoe had suddenly become five sizes too small, or—

Riiiiiiip-POP! A sudden sound brought blissful relief on one side. The top of her left sneaker was torn completely from the sole in an impressively loud display. She expected a regular, if squashed, foot to emerge, clad in her white and red socks. Instead, as the sole ripped free and bent out of the way, four round, blue toes emerged so fast that they ripped straight through her sock, its sorry remains stretched between them to maintain a tenuous grip. The rest of an enormous glowing paw followed after, nearly twice as wide as the shoes that had managed to contain it. The sole had to be almost as large as her whole face, bodying the remains of the shoe as it escaped its confines. It slapped wetly against the floor, pressed onto cool tiles. The toes were larger, sturdier, and her heel was stretched backwards, still hidden in the shredded shoe. It was clearly animalistic, built for movement. As it pressed against the ground, she could feel a thick pad swell up on the ball of her foot against the tiles, squishier than the bulk of the paw. 

All that happened in one shocking instant. Rika yelped, kicking her other leg in shock, and an almost identical shoe-demolition ruined her other sneaker and released a second, equally gigantic paw. She could feel every crack and divot in the floor beneath them as she pushed herself backwards, as if to escape her own feet. Her legs felt strange. With her heel so far from the actual paw itself, they clearly didn’t fit the general structure. 

Definitely not worth it, that ridiculously calm voice in her head said wryly. 

The poor woman wasn’t given time to dwell on her utterly ruined shoes or the paws that had brought about said ruination. Another pain sprang up, this time in her lower spine. It made sitting nearly unbearable. She rolled over, hands detaching from around her stomach so that she could hold herself up on her elbows and knees. Her tailbone ached. She clasped her hands together and pressed her forehead against them, panting, her odd tongue slipping in and out, her snout nose nearly against the floor. A part of her noted that her hands were now rounder and larger—paws. Again. That must have happened while she was distracted by her shoes exploding. 

She feared what this new pain might bring more than she felt the pain itself. If the last source of discomfort had utterly altered the anatomy of everything below the knee, what might happen with this one? Her paws pushed against the floor as her thighs and calves began to ache, similar to the start of a charlie horse. She lifted herself up off her knees, trying to straighten her spine, standing on the toes of her new paws. The angle was awkward with their shape, but she couldn’t bear to lower her rear again and put more pressure on her aching spine. 

From her upside down position, between drips of goop from her snout, Rika could see her legs. Her torn jeans had been loose before; now, they were like tights, stretched against the skin. Instead of that skin, though, blue slime pressed through the threadbare holes on her knees. They were especially tight right at the top, her hips visibly straining against the fabric, outlined in near perfect detail from what she could see. That was made all the worse by a strange pressure centered on her tailbone, where the pain was most acute. Unfortunately, unlike tights, jeans were not meant to stretch like this, and she was feeling that to the utmost degree. Her mind was in a haze, sweat (or was that more goo?) dripping off her forehead from the sheer strain, that icy tingling filling her body, paws digging against the floor as she tried to focus through it all. Through the maze of jeans and paws, eyes squinting nearly shut, she saw incredible, normal, terrified Bailey rush back out of the bathroom, holding a roll of crumbling paper towels. 

She was just in time to watch as Rika’s jeans were torn to shreds. It started at the top, where the seams gave way, wide gooey hips erupting outwards with an enormous tearing. The utter explosion of the seat of her pants triggered a chain reaction that tore each and every thread down the sides of her jeans, her thighs and calves bursting through the denim with their sudden girth, muscles clenched. She was overcome with dizzying relief, legs shaking slightly from a combination of exertion, the slimy material, and their bulked up size. The indents of the seams were visible for a few moments before fading into their gooey surfaces. The ruined fabric was left in piles on the floor, her legs now bare save for clinging threads and torn up shoes. The entire skeletal structure of her legs seemed to have shifted in the sudden explosion of freedom; her knees were a little lower, joints more pronounced, matching the strange position of her ankles. As a whole they looked much more dynamic, all angles rather than straight up and down, and she was standing up on her toes, rather than resting on her heels. Even when not in a position like she was holding, she doubted she’d be able to lower her heels down all the way to the ground.

Rika nearly passed out as her spine seemed to shoot straight out of her back, whipping outwards. Her vision swam, but she was able to watch as a tail nearly as thick as her head slammed to the ground. More importantly, she could feel every inch of it extending from beyond her back, sliding across the floor, entirely new nerve impulses hitting her brain like a truck. The pain had been this incredible mass being kept back by her pants and undergarments. Beyond it, Bailey’s moonlike pale face was now flushed a bright red. 

Oh, Rika thought deliriously. My ass is out, isn’t it. Sorry, Bailey.

She groaned, wanting to collapse but holding the position for fear of actually passing out on the floor. Her brain was short circuiting under a barrage of sensory information that it was entirely unequipped to handle. The sheer weight of the thing attached to her rear end made her tip backwards, butt smacking onto the ground. Watching the floor rotate out from above her perspective to underneath made her sick. 

Rika grabbed the shelf next to her. Her hand… paw… thing squelched as she gripped it. Pushing herself to her feet took enormous effort, operating their strange new shape, her cloudy mind wondering what she was even doing. Why not just lay down? It would feel so nice….

Yet, she stood. Grasping the metal with both hands, Rika stood. Her legs shook. The feeling of her larger thighs pressed against each other was yet another foreign sensation that she’d have to adjust to. Her hair hung around her in wet globs, covered in ooze, though this was somewhat darker than the rest. It was a stonelike gray, making her hair seem more like a mass than individual strands. She twisted, spotting Bailey through the gaps in her mussed up hair, who was edging closer warily, holding the paper towels out in front of her like a ward. Her shoes made sucking sounds with each step through the sludge coating the floor, centered around Rika herself. She tried to show off one of her lopsided smiles, but it looked more like a grimace. 

“Th… thanks.” She panted out the words, her voice odd in her own ears, deeper and more sinuous with the consonants. She couldn’t imagine how she must seem to Bailey. A monster, something insidious replacing her longtime friend. To add a final touch to the unsettling image, Rika’s hoodie drooped, slime appearing through the threads. The hoodie, along with the shirt underneath, literally slipped through her torso, dropping to the puddle of ooze below. Her stone ring plinked off her fingers and against the metal shelving she held. Her chest was flat and white, a contrast to the blue that coated the rest of her body, like the underbelly of a shark. “Uh. Oops.” 

Pushing past the obvious fear, Bailey actually proffered the paper towels. They were nothing, of course; Rika herself was changed from head to toe. A roll of paper towels disintegrating under the weight of their own age would do nothing but make a mess even in regular circumstances. Here, it was almost like a peace offering, a symbol instead of a tool. Rika did her best to stand upright and walk forward to accept the roll, useless though it was. 

She couldn’t even make it a single proper step. The coils of tail caught her paw as she tried to move, and she stumbled, arms flailing wildly. Bailey didn’t have a chance to run as the mass of slime careened into her, sending them both to the floor. Bailey only narrowly avoided cracking her head against the tiles, instead falling on top of a length of Rika’s enormous tail with a loud SPLAT. Rika felt the impact, but it didn’t hurt—there was strange pressure, but everything was so strange already that it wasn’t out of place. She fell directly on top of her friend with another loud slap, getting goo everywhere as the two impacted each other. 

She panted, snout barely an inch above Bailey’s nose. Her forked tongue sprang out and flicked the tip of her nose. Her friend looked more than strained—she was on the verge of manic, and Rika couldn’t blame her one bit. She had a beast atop her, breathing in her face, taking in her scent. Possibly sizing her up as some sort of prey. 

“Help…” Bailey squeaked. 

That was all the push Rika needed to break through her haze. She responded immediately, untangling her arms and pushing herself up. Her hair hung around the two of them, separating them from the outside world. The blonde was now totally smothered by the sooty gray, the distant light of her flashlight making it glow around the edges, where it was somewhat translucent. 

“Hey, I’m still here, see?” she said, voice strained and awkward. “Still Ryuukah.” 

She froze. Bailey, despite the terror, looked confused. “I… sure hope you mean still Rika.” 

“That’s… that’s what I said. Still Ryuukah.” She gritted her snout, working it. “Ryuukah. Ryuukah. No, reee-yoooou-kaa. No! Stupid snout, work with me here!” Even slowly pronouncing it, dragging out each syllable with careful precision, she couldn’t seem to get the sounds right. Every time she started, whatever she was trying to say slipped from her head like water through a sieve, replaced instead with that strange new name. Her tongue stuck out of her muzzle in concentration, sliding across Bailey’s cheek without her noticing. She felt like her brain was repeating like a scratched record. 

She knew it was wrong. That wasn’t her name. Her name was… gods. she breathed out through her nostrils, concentrating. You couldn’t just forget your own name. It was right there, right on the tips of her tongue. She just… had to… grab it….

Ryuukah. 

“Goddamnit!” 

Well, at least that particular word still worked. 

“Lick me again and I’m strangling you!” Bailey’s angry voice brought her back to her senses. Much as she wanted to continue struggling with her mind, there were more pressing things to deal with. Or maybe it just frightened her so much that she was determined to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t a fruitless endeavor.

“Sorry for having a crisis,” she shot back automatically. 

“Have it somewhere that isn’t laying on top of me!” Bailey demanded, her hands pushing at Ryuukah’s shoulders. They sunk almost half an inch into them, but didn’t pass through, and she was lifted upwards and away from Bailey’s face. Ryuukah sat back the rest of the way, and with some focus, she actually managed to pull all the goo with her. She wasn’t sure how she managed it—she was mostly just trying to think of it being off of Bailey, instead of smothering her. She grabbed her friend’s extended hands, pulling her upright as well, scooting backwards so that they were sitting a foot or so apart. 

The pair stayed there for a while, both breathing heavily. Neither one seemed to want to speak. The puddle of blue slime pulled back from Bailey as if repelled, leaving a clean spot on the floor around her. She rubbed her hands together, fear and relief mixing on her face. 

Finally, Bailey spoke. “It’s like… you know that feeling when you’ve rubbed lotion into your skin, and there’s barely any residue, but you can still feel it?” Ryuukah nodded, and she continued, holding up her hands. “It’s like that. Totally dry, but… softer? More oily? I can’t really tell.” 

The comment was unimportant, tangential. The feel of the goo leaving one's skin didn’t matter.  Yet, it felt easier to talk about that than anything else. Ryuukah grinned, the expression strange on her muzzle. “What, I turn into a monster and all I’m good for is lotion?” 

Bailey snorted. “That and making a mess.” 

“Oh, how sorrowful am I!” Ryuukah said with mock despair. “A strange slime creature, locked away in the dark basement, used only to harvest the most rejuvenating of lotions! Forever cursed to do nothing but produce overpriced health goods!” 

Bailey laughed and shoved at a coil of tail sitting near her right foot. “Yeah, right. You’d just seep through the door, Miss Creature.” 

“I don’t even know if I am a Miss anymore,” she remarked, gesturing at her flat chest. “Now I’m just a…” A sudden tickle overcame her nostrils once more. “Ah… aaa-CHOO!” Ryuukah erupted into another sneeze. As it hit, her ears, until then covered by her hair, whooshed outwards. They looked like wings, pure white against the gray hair. The weird wing-things wiggled as she tried to talk again.

“I—” 

Achoo! This one came out throaty, and she coughed and hacked as a massive sapphire as big as her fist emerged out the front of her throat with a sucking pop, resting atop her collarbone. She grabbed it, feeling it squish. Was it made out of gelatin? Regardless, it seemed attached there, unmoving. 

“I was trying to say that I—”

Achoo! Once more, a sneeze wracked her body. Her chest made a gooey whump as it sprung back outwards. It made one solid shape, as if she was wearing a shirt over a large chest, but she most certainly had a chest once more.

“God, nevermind, forget I said anything!” 

Bailey actually burst out laughing. Ryuukah laughed along with her, hands falling back to her lap. The sound was good. Normal. Something they both desperately needed. Even as it faded, leaving only the light burble of slime, the tension faded with it, and Ryuukah knew that it was time to stop skirting the issue.

Bailey sighed. “Idiot.” 

“I know.” 

“The biggest fool I have ever met.” 

“Bailey, I can’t even say my own name.” Ryuukah clenched her hands. That wasn’t quite true; her name had just been fundamentally altered in her own mind, which was both more upsetting and more confusing. “Trust me. I know.” 

Bailey sighed. “Okay, well, you deserve it. You don’t get a free pass just because you turned into a goo monster. You’re clearly some sort of snake, but I don’t really…” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, are you a Dragonair?” 

“Like the pokemon?” Ryuukah said incredulously. “No. No way. I have legs, that thing is a snake. How did you even make that connection?” 

“Explain the bling, then,” Bailey said, grabbing the end of her tail and holding it up, clearly showing off two enormous sapphires that matched the one on her throat. Ryuukah shuddered at the touch, but it wasn’t bad, just odd. The sapphires matched the one at her throat, though they were much larger. 

“Okay, fine! I don’t care about that right now.” She squinted and managed to wriggle her tail out of Bailey’s hands, partially pulling out of their grip and partially oozing through it. That was coming to her more naturally now. “Can we please focus on how I’m getting back to my apartment like this?” 

“You are not getting slime all over my car,” Bailey declared immediately. 

“I can’t walk!” Ryuukah retorted. “It’s like eight miles through the city, I’ll get the cops called on me ten times over by the time I’m halfway there!” 

“Then stick yourself in a Big Gulp or something! You made yourself into a mess, now you clean yourself up!” Bailey folded her arms, looking set.

Ryuukah clicked her tongue testily and looked around the store. She’d need a plus size body bag or something just to fit all her stupid tail and ass into if she wanted a solid container, and then it would be FAR too heavy for Bailey to carry. There wasn’t anything around that would help. Even if there WERE containers big enough for her to sit inside, they’d probably be long since useless for carrying liquids. Liquids. That’s what she was, now. No longer human—she was something else, something fluid. She wasn’t kidding when she said that she didn’t think she was female, even with the chest thing. When she looked inwards, trying to identify herself, what she felt she was, all she got was a taste of artificial blue raspberry flavoring in her mouth. 

Great. Not only had she turned into goop, she’d have to totally reevaluate her gender. And personal body image, she added, once again reminded of the sight of her pants getting demolished. That was a lot to take in about oneself. Bailey had gotten the full sight of it, too. 

Her eyes lighted on the slushie machine, sitting next to where she’d left her glowing flashlight. Something in her gut twinged. A connection, a sense deep inside. 

There.

She could feel what would happen already, and she didn’t like it, but that was her only choice.

__________

“Gods, you’re heavy,” Bailey wheezed. She crab-walked out into the cool night air, through the employees-only door that she’d shoved open with a large plank of wood. The slushie machine was clutched in her arms, power cord dragging along the ground. It was full to the lid with swirling ooze, blue white and gray twisting about inside. 

“Don’t call me fat when I’m basically just soup,” Ryuukah complained. Her voice came from the vibrating mass of goo that swished in the machine’s tank. She’d somehow managed to fit her entire body inside of it, despite the clear impossibility of size. The experience of slowly melting, body merging into itself, losing definition, had been utterly terrifying. She’d started with her paws, and those had easily vanished into the layer of slime still contained in the tank. Her legs had followed quickly, but her hips got stuck on the lid, and she needed to work herself back and forth to shove her ass down in. The huge, bulky tail attached to it didn’t help matters. Bailey had pointedly looked away during that part, but Ryuukah hadn’t missed the red tinge on her cheeks. At least the slime had covered up whatever had used to be between her legs; it was all a single smooth expanse now. The last dregs of hope she’d held, clinging onto her abandoned humanity, had shriveled up and died the moment her head had sunk beneath the surface. She still had some senses, but they were more focused on touch and vibration, and her brain didn’t know how to interpret them. She wasn’t blind—she was in a constant, dizzying confusion, which was far worse. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with being fat,” Bailey grunted. She hooked a finger on the passenger’s side door of her car, yanking it. “Second of all—urf—you’re a fatass like this, so shut up.” 

“Yeah, you would say that, wouldn’t you? I saw you staring!” Ryuukah accused. She managed to reform one of her eyes and an impression of a snout, glaring out at Bailey, whose cheeks were turning pink again. She slammed the lid on the slushie machine and swirled the whole thing, dunking the eye back into the mess of sludge while she buckled it into place. 

“Bring that up ever again and you’re going in the storm drain,” she hissed. “I am NOT letting you think that was hot. I was horrified.” 

“Wasn’t me that thought it was hot!” Ryuukah’s voice called. Bailey’s response was to slam the car door. She cackled, the sound coming out like bubbles popping on a boiling surface of slop. Bailey had never shown any signs of deviance like that before, especially not towards other… okay, not other women, but other feminine beings. This was a fascinating new development, and one Ryuukah fully intended to continue investigating. Her penchant for mischief was far from gone, now; in fact, it almost felt stronger. She was cracking jokes easily, and her mind felt looser, more relaxed, despite the stress of the night. It was like a constant, background sugar rush, but it only seemed to be getting stronger. Maybe the new body was having an effect on her personality. One couldn’t be made out of pure sugar and have one’s gender be blue raspberry and not have one’s personality change, she figured. Maybe she’d have to swap pronouns….

Bailey returned a short time later after one last check through the convenience store, opening up the opposite door. Ryuukah could feel it unlock and swing outwards. She tossed a sopping wet bundle of clothes and two backpacks into the back and climbed into the driver’s seat. 

“I’m not a thief,” she informed the bucket of slime on the chair beside her. “You’re the one stealing that machine.”

“And I’m a giant bird.”

“I am an accessory to crime. This is your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuukah said, her oozing voice communicating dismissal. “Have fun explaining that one to the cops. ‘My sexy goo friend made me do it, officer! I couldn’t resist their charm!’” 

Their charm, Ryuukah thought. Yeah. Yeah, that feels good.

Bailey groaned, twisting the key in the ignition and smacking the side of the tank to get Ryuukah to be quiet. The car sped off into the night, headlights on low. The night had been chaotic, and Rika had been left behind in the hubbub, leaving as someone new. Perhaps that could be a good thing. Behind, the Sinclair gas station and its attached 6 Ten sat silently. It was lit only by the light of a distant, orange street lamp, mimicking the coming color of dawn. 

Bonus note for anyone who has read this far: Ryuukah's gender is canonically artificial blue raspberry flavoring. Also, if they go through the tap on the slushie machine it shifts them from anthro to a regular Dragonair. Also also they are a very hot dragon and I don't think Bailey stands a chance, the poor girl.

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 11

A wild Caelum appears!

Caelum had spent the last few years wandering, seeing the world's wonders and visiting his many charges. He loved the adventure, and would head out again soon, but for now, he was home. He had missed his country and castle and people and food and everything else about Desiderium, but most of all, he had missed his brother.

Rather than rifting directly home, he takes the path through the market, greeting friends and making new ones as he gathers snacks. His return had been unannounced, so no one is there to greet him at the gates, but he doesn't mind. Surprises are fun! He sneaks in, surprising several people into laughs and smiles and hugs. He's so happy to be back! He makes his way deeper into the castle, peeking into Gavin's favorite rooms, but finding them empty.

He asks a few people, and they suggest the library.

"He's spent a lot of time there lately," one says, smiling like there's a secret. He thanks them, and resolves to unravel the secret himself. Daemon detective!

He starts to call for his brother before remembering that libraries are supposed to be quiet, so he whispers as he moves between the shelves.

"Gavin? Gaaaaviiin! Ga--"

He comes upon a human seated behind a tall stack of books, who looks very surprised to see him.

"Oh! Hi!" he chirps, whispering abandoned. "You weren't here the last time I was! You must be a new friend!"

The human smiles, happy but nervous.

"Yes, I'm Lasko. Gavin's friend." He stumbles over "friend" a little, but Caelum barely notices in his excitement.

"Oh, that's great! Gavin doesn't have very many friends, so I'm glad that you're friends with him. I'm Caelum!" He bounds around the table to stand next to Lasko, who has also gotten to his feet. "How long have you guys been friends? When did you get here? I've been gone for a little while so you must have gotten here pretty recently. What do you do together? Do you like to cook?"

Lasko looks a little overwhelmed, and he has a lot of feelings at once, but they're mostly good--or kind of neutral? Confused but not upset.

"I-it's been a while since we met," he says, eyes down. "I got here in Spring. Gavin and I t-talk, mostly, or go on walks, or sometimes we spar. I do like to cook." Caelum bounces on his toes.

"What kind of things do you like to cook? No, wait--what do you and Gavin talk about?"

Caelum is pleasantly surprised by the warm rush of feelings and the bright blush on Lasko's face. Ohh. Gavin hasn't had a special friend in a really long time! Lasko seems like a kind person, and Caelum really wants him and Gavin to be happy.

Lasko huffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. Embarrassed.

"Um, well, we talk about the relationship between our countries, and our...hopes and dreams. Wait, that sounds stupid..."

"It's not stupid!" Caelum insists. "If you like talking about it, and the person you like likes talking about it, then it's not stupid! It's wonderful!"

"The person I--?" Lasko's aura flares more and more panicked and ashamed. Caelum frowns.

"Oh no, I'm sorry! Was I wrong? Do you not like Gavin? I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Guilt. Lasko puts his face in his hands.

"No, you--you didn't do anything wrong, Caelum. And I do like Gavin, I just...it's complicated." Caelum hums.

"Relationships are complicated sometimes," he says wisely. "But that's okay, because if it's meant to be, it'll work out!" Lasko smiles, relaxing a bit, and Caelum smiles back. "If you want, I can help you! I like helping. And I'm pretty good at it!"

Lasko hesitates. Relief, confusion, gratitude. "Uh. Maybe? Caelum, what exactly is your relationship to Gavin?"

"Oh!" Caelum bonks a fist onto his own head. "Sorry! I totally forgot. Gavin is my big brother!"

Shock and confusion. A burst of pleasant surprise from behind him.

"Caelum? When did you get back?"

Caelum spins around and grins brightly.

"Gavin!" he cries, flinging himself into Gavin's arms and hugging him tight. "Earlier today! I've just been waiting here with Lasko for you--"

"Lasko?" Gavin looks up, and Lasko's warm affection is reflected in Gavin.

"Hi," Lasko says softly. He instantly feels happy and excited and so loving toward Gavin, and Gavin feels the same. Caelum didn't realize quite how deep the feelings went. Surely, if he can tell, Gavin can, too?

He chances a peek at Gavin's face, and his expression is adoring and peaceful, more peaceful than Caelum has seen in a very long time. Maybe he doesn't know, or isn't willing to let himself know? Complicated.

He disentangles himself from his brother's arms, deciding that the best thing for them right now is to be alone. He can meddle more later!

"Caelum? Where are you going?" Gavin asks, brows quirked. Their hugs usually last longer.

"I'm going to go see everyone else!" he tells Gavin, giving his shoulder a hearty pat. "It was really nice to meet you, Lasko! I'll see you guys at dinner!" And he rifts away, catching a glimpse of bemused smiles as he goes.

[flickerbell]

“After a while, I thought I’d never find you.” (tickerhart)

@tickerhart

When Colton is chastised by Abigail to turn around, another voice (Colton can’t quite make it out since the voice is dropped to a whisper) reminds her that it’s about not seeing the bride before her wedding not about seeing the groom. Abigail agrees with the new voice but insists that she doesn’t want to prick Colton with the needle attached to the back of the flower that will be in Colton’s front pocket. Abigail also gently tells Colton to stop fidgeting.

It’s like asking Danny to not continue pursuing mechanic work. Or like asking their beloved Punzie to stop begging for snacks even after she’s just had dinner and tried to sneak off with a guest’s shoe. It can be asked, it can be told, but it doesn’t mean that it will be followed through and obeyed.

Colton gives an uncharacteristically nervous exhale.

The cake, decorated with fondant cogs and gears, waits in the refrigerator. Most of the food is in the refrigerator and away from the reach of one dog that is too helpful, hungry, and clever, for her own good, but last Colton saw her, she was receiving belly rubs from either Brandon or Cassie; it’s possible that Punzie might have gone to seek affection from another one of their friends if one of those was requested to help Danny.

Colton imagines beaches and ocean waves against bare toes, about the stories he has heard growing up, and he’s grateful that venue option was considered. Even if it had meant shooing away obnoxious and greedy seagulls.

At least this venue is one that both Danny and Colton had agreed on.

Each one of their friends has a role in the ceremony. The glimmering rings are safe where they should be. Their family members are in the audience, talking with one another, and Colton is glad to see some familiar homeland treats lining the tablecloth from afar. He can’t wait to let Danny try some of his personal favorites, to see his boyfriend-turned-finance-soon to be husband.

A familiar voice is by his side, and Colton feels the same tingle from the tips of his fingers down to his toes as when he and Danny had first discussed this event being a possibility.

Although Colton tends to seek out attention, thrives in it even, he wanted to be sure that Danny would be okay with it too. Colton tries to smooth out non-existent wrinkles from his suit jacket, glancing down to his freshly polished shoes, almost like the ground is more fascinating as he ties his own oxfords again and again wishes that he was barefoot instead.

At least Abigail has understood why Colton refused each and every color of a bow tie, why the only option he would consider for a tie was one that clipped on and he could remove at a moment’s notice. So far, the metallic colored one has been remaining loose, away from his throat, and not yet removed with the trembling fingers that followed whenever Colton felt something was too tight around his throat.

“I’ve been here, the whole time, Danny. And I’m not going anywhere…”

Colton covers his own eyes with one of his own hands, as if to please Abigail that he won’t be sneaking a peek of his soon to be husband and partly because he does want to be surprised anyway. Clumsily, Colton gives a kiss to the side of Danny’s nose, rather than his cheek or lips or even the tip of his nose that had been where Colton was trying to reach, but nothing stops the accompanying grin that Colton has.

“….well, except to the altar. I really don’t wanna be late for that.”

[kodzukyan]

better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

[magicofthepen]

gallifrey week, gallifrey week!! war room sneak peek thoughts and feelings (under the cut bc spoilers):

major dehumanization themes oh my god — from Leela being compared to a tool, to her being collared like an animal

very much thinking about Louise’s comment in the BTS preview that she thought at first the writers had taken Leela too far from her center—but that she comes back to her core instincts and loyalty and honor and lack of deviousness. very ahhhh about how Leela is violently forced into a box, forced to become something she hates more than ever—and that’s saying something, considering the corrupting influence of Gallifrey in general. but I’m excited for a story that potentially examines both the horrors of dehumanization and control and how that changes someone—and how it’s possible (maybe) to break away from that (although if War Room is tying into the War Doctor stories in the end, I don’t think Leela can truly break away from Gallifrey?)

god but Louise saying that Leela’s whole motivation is to free Romana even if it means sacrificing her morality…..I am Distraught 🥺🥺

three distinct moments of Leela’s fierce loyalty to Romana already — “I will not give in, Romana. I swear it.” / “You need to let Romana go. You need to let them all go.” “Never.” / “Just as you promised your late mistress you would.” “I would fight for her. I will not fight for you. Not your Gallifrey.” 😭😭

I’m having some kind of feelings about how Leela was so bitter towards Romana in tw3, but then she lost her and found her and lost her again—and she has been separated from everyone else, the last person she has to directly fight for is Romana. so her bitterness and the hurt and complicated feelings towards Romana can’t be fully addressed. there are worse things happening, so Leela isn’t getting a chance to properly confront, like…..anything about Unity (or Dissolution, or Homecoming). (also a Time War 4 problem. and yes I know it’s that the writers have already decided not to properly follow up Time War 3 and aren’t going to start now, but I will forever keep looking at this from an in-universe perspective and pointing out that it has been barely any time since Leela lost Veega! barely any time since Romana lied to her to stay behind on Unity! also: barely any time since she was separated from Rayo and never saw him again! barely any time since (as far as she knows) Narvin died! and she can’t process any of it! her emotions, her self is being literally stifled by the Time Lords’ collar.)

side note: Rassilon calls Romana her late mistress. I wonder if either 1. he’s decided he doesn’t actually care to use Romana as leverage (in an “obey me or she dies” way) since they have other methods of controlling Leela, and he’d rather just hurt Leela by referring to Romana as if she’s dead, or if 2. none of the other Time Lords in the room know that Romana’s still alive in a pocket dimension, and he wants to keep it that way, for whatever reason. because he was very clearly imprisoning her, not killing her, at the end of time war 4, and Leela knows that…..so it’s odd that he’d suddenly choose to refer to Romana as if she’s dead.

(and if he doesn’t care to use Romana as leverage…..what is he keeping her for? it could very well be just to torment her, but yeah.)

I wonder if there’s going to be some purpose to the biological monitoring other than “they can use her vitals to tell if she’s lying or afraid.” bc I totally get why they wrote in the compliance collar—it makes Leela working for the Time Lords make more sense; it’s more than just using Romana as leverage—but they really emphasized how they can detect all her bio-signals. interesting.

Leela refers to Romana as the true president, which. hmm. I feel like it’s probably Big Finish’s tendency to default to referencing Romana as President, but she hasn’t actually been President for a while.

Louise describing Leela as “slightly paranoid, very angry, very controlled” yeah yeah yeah this series seems like it’s gonna be devastating and fucked up for Leela and I already love her bottomless depths of rage—and now that they’re literally collaring her, I feel like she’s storing up just an unending scream at everything she has endured and is enduring and when she has the slightest opening, she’s going to snap. which, good!! I’m glad the writers are letting her be this angry

there is this devastating hint of despair though at “What else can he do to me?” Leela has always turned to anger in her most grief-stricken moments, throwing herself into a fight as a way to cope. this is no exception—she’s lost so much, and she doesn’t care anyone how much she’s hurt. she’s reckless, daring them to starve her or torture her. she’s carrying around a deep well of grief and it’s coming out as rage and a thirst for vengeance, like it always does in her lowest moments

only 15 minutes in and Leela’s already explicitly threatens to kill Rassilon twice. iconic. @ big finish, let her stab Rassilon at some point, she deserves it

new theme!! i’d say of the prior themes, it feels closest to the era 3/time war theme, but where that one was solemn this one has a crackling energy to it. i like it! new vibes!

[curlynerd]

Happy Birthday, Cas! Word Count: 3K Rating: T Summary: Appalled that Cas has never had a birthday party before, Jack drags Dean into his schemes to plan a surprise party for him. Dean finally works up the courage to tell Cas how he feels. Notes: love confessions, first kiss, lots of fluff, and lots of Cas' family showing up much they care

Also read on AO3!

"You've never celebrated Cas' birthday?!" Jack exclaimed by way of greeting at -- Dean groaned and rolled over to check the time. -- 6:47 in the morning.

"Jack..." Dean sighed, dragging his hand down his face and sitting up in bed. "We've been over this. You promised not to come barging in here until at least 8:30."

"Huh?" Jack titled his head at Dean before his gaze trailed over to the bedside clock. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot to check the time."

"All those God powers and you can't even conjure up a watch?" Dean grumbled as he threw the sheets off his legs and planted his feet on the floor. "Now what were you saying about Cas?"

"His birthday!" Jack's expression was too damn excitable for this early in the morning. "I was telling him about how we celebrated my birthday after Mrs. Butters left, and I asked him about his birthday, and he said he'd never celebrated one before!"

Dean frowned at Jack. This was what he was woken up for? "Kid, I don't think he has one. The dude's older than calendars."

Jack was undaunted. "Yeah, but he was born, right? Even angels are born."

Okay, it was way too early for existential questions. He needed coffee. Dean grunted his acknowledgment and dragged himself to his feet. "Did Cas say when his birthday was?"

"Well, no." Jack furrowed his brow for just a second before his face lit up in enthusiasm. "Why don't we celebrate today?"

Dean stared at Jack. Jack's eyes were wide and sincere and full of love, just like his dad's. And, apparently, just as effective. "Alright..." Dean said with a defeated sigh. Who was he to deny the kid a chance to make his dad happy? "Whacha wanna do for his birthday?"

Jack beamed. "A surprise party! With cake!"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean scrubbed at his hair and wiped the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled his feet into his slippers. "Coffee first, though. Then the store."

"What kind of cake should we make?" Jack asked an hour later, as he and Dean pondered every box mix the grocery store had to offer.

“Hmm…” Dean eyeballed the box of funfetti mix. Jack would probably like that one best. It had sprinkles baked in. Dean kind of wanted a classic chocolate cake. And Cas, well. He wouldn’t care. He’d probably take two bites at most, just to appease Jack.

“This one.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for a box and held it out for Jack.

“Angel food cake?” Jack read.

Dean nodded, his grin widening at his little joke. “Yeah! It’s special. Angels love it, ya know.”

Jack tilted his head at Dean, then the box, before a smile bloomed across his face. “You gave me angel food cake once. I really liked it! Is that why you got it for me?”

Dean thought back to that drive, and his little snack cakes morality test. “Yup. That was definitely why.” He snatched the box from Jack’s hand and tossed it into the cart before he could ask more questions. “Let’s wrap this up before Cas wonders why we’ve been gone so long.”

If Cas was ignorant of Jack’s birthday plans before, he wasn’t for long. Neither Dean nor Jack thought to do much to conceal the contents of their shopping bags when they returned home. Or figure out a way to keep Cas from wandering the bunker. So when he stumbled upon the two of them hauling bags toward the kitchen, both Dean and Jack traded suspicious glances.

“Dean and I will be in the kitchen for awhile,” Jack said seriously, cutting straight to the chase. “Do not come in there though!”

“Oh?” Cas’ gaze flickered down to their bags. A package of birthday hats stuck out of the opening of one. A canister of rainbow sprinkles was nestled at the top of another. His mouth twitched as his eyes softened with warmth. When they met Dean’s eyes, Dean’s stomach did a flip. Cas’ eyes grew even warmer.

‘He loves you,’ Dean’s thoughts helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment, ensuring Dean’s face burned with a fierce blush right as Cas looked his most adoring. Dean hastily averted his gaze.

Cas hadn’t been back from the Empty for long, only a couple of weeks really. But it felt like an eternity.

Because Dean hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t looked him in the eyes and said ‘I love you too.’ Hadn’t dragged him in by the lapels of his stupid trenchcoat and kissed him senseless. Hadn’t held him close and promised him that he could have Dean, all of him, for as long as he wanted to keep him.

The moment had never been right. There were always people around. Jack. Sam. So many of their friends, eager to see them and celebrate their victory over Chuck and their newfound freedom. Things were only now starting to quiet down, and still Dean hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him.

“It’s for a surprise,” Jack continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “Er, not a surprise! We’re not planning any surprises!” Dean barely controlled his eyeroll. The kid really needed to work on his lying. “It’s something you can’t know about until later. So don’t even think about peeking!”

Cas and Dean traded knowing looks. Dean shrugged a little. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas assured Jack.

Jack brightened. “Great! Come on, Dean. Let’s go!” He practically skipped toward the kitchen, radiating enthusiasm with every step. Dean sighed and followed after him, already anticipating the huge mess at the end of all this. At least it was just box mix. That was easy enough to handle.

As it turned out, even box mix wasn’t foolproof.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jack asked in concern. He poked at the misshapen mess of their cake.

“Probably not.” Dean shrugged. It was a disaster zone, is what it was. Apparently angel food cake required a special pan. It looked similar enough to a bundt pan, though, so Dean thought it was an okay substitute. Clearly not. Or maybe they overmixed it? Was that why it sunk into this lumpy, craggy mess and then fell apart when they tried to shake it out of the pan?

“But ya know, homemade cake never looks as fancy as the stuff you get at the store, but it tastes just as good.” He slapped Jack on the back. “Put some frosting on this thing, maybe some decorations, and we’re golden.”

And so they set to work. Jack clearly had a vision of what he wanted, pulling supplies from the pantry to add to the disaster cake. He insisted on covering it in a thick layer of chocolate frosting, even though Dean tried to tell him angel food cake didn’t usually need it. It was vital to what he was creating. A full hour passed, and somehow the thing looked even worse than when it first flopped out of the pan.

“Cas is gonna love it,” Dean said anyway, because he knew it was true. Jack beamed with pride.

“At what point am I no longer banned from the kitchen?” Almost as if on cue, Cas’ voice called out from down the hallway. “Am I allowed to walk past it? I’d like to go into the library.”

“You can come in!” Jack yelled back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Dean looked around at the decoration-less kitchen, the party hats and the balloons still in their packaging. “Wait, hold on--” he began, but it was too late.

“SURPRISE!” Jack shouted as Cas rounded the corner. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“A surprise for me?” Cas didn’t even seem to notice that the only things in the kitchen were a weird brown blob of cake and a massive mess. He was smiling from ear to ear at Jack with that special, endeared smile parents reserved just for their children. “But I told you I didn’t have a birthday,” Cas said. Which he and Jack had talked about literally hours ago. Before Jack raced off to talk with Dean and plan an impromptu trip to the store before baking all morning.

Yeah. Cas definitely knew what Jack was planning today.

“Well, Jack decided today was your birthday. So, happy birthday.” Dean shrugged a little in a ‘Kids. What can ya do?’ sort of way.

Cas’ expression softened. “Today is a perfect day for a birthday.”

“We made a cake!” Jack bounded over to Cas and practically dragged him to the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

“It is…” Cas frowned and knit his eyebrows together at the monstrosity before him. “An inside-out hedgehog?”

“It’s a Sarlacc Pit!” Jack exclaimed while Dean clutched at the table, doubled-over with laughter. Jack pointed out the pretzel rods jutting out around the misshapen, lumpy hole in the center of the sunken cake. They’d done their best to make the chocolate frosting around it look like smooth sand, but of course it was way too brown. And bits of warm cake kept breaking off while they iced it. “That’s its teeth, and that’s the sand. It’s a Star Wars cake!”

“Oh, of course it is!” Cas said generously. He patted Jack’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful, Jack. And Dean.” He nodded at Dean, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah we’ve got ourselves the next Cake Boss over here. If the God thing doesn’t work out.” Dean’s voice rippled with laughter. He snatched up the bag of party hats and ripped it open. Cas looked exceedingly tolerant as Dean snapped one on his head with an impish grin. “So birthday boy, whacha wanna do on your special day?”

“Oh I know!” Jack exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious. “First we’ve gotta…”

The day wound up being more about Jack than Cas. Or rather, Jack doing all the things he loved to do with Cas. There was a Star Wars movie marathon. There was cake. There were more board games than Dean had played in a lifetime. Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas let Jack win most of them.

But Cas had smiled almost non-stop the entire day, probably more than Dean had seen the entire thirteen years since he’d met him. And yeah, Dean knew why. What was better to do on his birthday than spend time with his kid?

By the end of the day, even Cas was looking a little tired. Dean was absolutely exhausted. He was half-tempted to drag himself to bed early, but when Jack finally retired to his own room to give Dean and Cas some time together, there wasn’t any hesitation about settling down in his favorite armchair, Cas beside him, with two glasses of Dean’s favorite whiskey to share.

The drink was warming through his limbs, but the light in Cas’ eyes was warmer. He looked content, if not a little overwhelmed by all the love his little family had shown him today. Dean leaned back in his chair and let the peacefulness of the moment wash over him.

“You know, it’s serendipitous Jack chose today for my birthday.” Cas smiled down at his glass.

Dean cracked a sleepy eye open. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, today is the anniversary of the day I raised you from perdition.”

Dean stared at Cas. Cas eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Really?” Cas nodded, and Dean laughed. “Well then I suppose it’s really my re-birthday.”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll remind Jack to bake two cakes next year.” They fell into easy silence, nursing their drinks as they reflected on the years.

“It really is a good birth date,” Cas said awhile later. “I may have been alive for eons before then, but the day I met you was when I changed...That was when I really started living.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, Cas’ love confession ringing in his ears. “Didn’t I stab you?” he joked weakly, deflecting the spiraling nerves that bubbled up in his chest.

Cas laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then you were making me feel. Mostly confusion,” he added with a wry twist of his lips. “I saved you from eternal damnation, and you repaid me by stabbing me in the chest!” Despite his amusement, Cas’ eyes were overflowing with warmth and affection. Dean could almost read the thoughts going on behind them. ‘I fell a little bit in love with you right then.’

“What can I say? I have that effect on people.” ‘Now,’ his thoughts urged. ‘Tell him now!’ “I dunno what I’d have done without you,” Dean mused around a sip of whiskey. A little more liquid courage. A little more and he could do this.

“Another angel would have been sent. You would have been pulled from Hell anyway.”

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “All of it. All the crap we’ve been through. All the crap Chuck put us through. Put me through.” He watched the way the warm lamplight reflected off his drink. “I...I’m glad I had a best friend through it all. You know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice that made Dean look up. He was smiling softly, but the longing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Dean sighed. His gut churned with fear and guilt and yearning. He knew Cas loved him. And he knew he loved Cas. Hell, he’d known that for a helluva lot longer than he’d known of Cas’ feelings. He just needed one little push to make him confront those feelings head-on.

“Ya know, I think I have one more present for you.” Dean set his glass down with heavy meaning. He nodded to himself and stood up, his jaw set firm, his eyes determined.

“You do?” Cas started to ask. “What--” And before he could finish his sentence, Dean crawled into the chair with him, his knees straddling Cas’ hips, bracing himself against the backrest with one hand. Cas’ eyes went huge. “Dean?” His voice trembled.

Dean was pretty sure he looked even more nervous, but he’d be damned if he owned up to it. “Hey birthday boy,” he hummed, forcing a flirtatious smile despite the anxiety pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Cas. God how he wanted to kiss Cas.

But instead of looking delighted Cas looked...hurt. “Dean, you don’t have to do this for me.”

Dean’s heart went cold. “For you? You don’t think I want this?”

“No,” Cas said simply. Honestly. His bright blue eyes were so close now, but the heartache in them was almost painful to look at.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Well then you’re dumber than you look,” he teased, forcing bravado he did not feel. Dean leaned in until his forehead rested against Cas’. He could feel Cas’ warm breath across his lips. “Cas, if I could pick anyone in the whole damn world to be with, it’d be my best friend. You know that, right?” Cas licked his lips. Dean yearned to tilt his head down and catch them with his own. “But I thought you didn’t...Couldn’t...Well, I thought love wasn’t something angels did.”

“But I told you, Dean. When the Empty came, I told you--”

“Yeah I know. But you know how I drag my ass for important stuff.” That finally elicited a tiny puff of laughter from Cas. Dean smiled. “Come on, man. Cut me some slack. Lemme use this as an excuse to nut up and kiss you.”

As it turned out, Dean didn’t need to, because Cas surged up and pressed their lips together.

Dean gasped into the kiss as his hand resettled itself on Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ glass clattered as he hastily set it on the table in order to hold Dean’s waist with both hands. Cas kissed like he was starving for it, voracious and desperate, licking his way into Dean’s mouth without preamble and moaning deeply into the heat he found there.

Dean gave as good as he got, letting over a decade of longing finally escape through the hot, greedy press of their lips together, through the long trailing kisses along Cas’ jaw while Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s back and up underneath his shirt.

“We should...do this in my room…” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as his teeth nipped at the sensitive area. Cas nodded and, without warning, stood up with Dean still wrapped around him. Dean startled and reflexively jerked his feet down toward the floor, though he realized with delight that Cas could almost certainly carry him the entire way if he wanted. Later. He’d test that out later. For now Dean grabbed Cas by the tie with a lecherous twinkle in his eye and hauled him in the direction of his bedroom. Soon to be their bedroom, if Dean had anything to say about it.

Much, much later, when they were tangled together beneath the sheets with Dean’s head nestled on Cas’ chest, Dean realized that Cas had been wrong. Because his happiest moment wasn’t when the Empty took him away. It wasn’t in just saying how he felt.

Because it was in loving, yes, but it was also in being loved.

Because when Dean peeked up at Cas’ face, he was radiating so much happiness Dean’s heart ached from it. Today was the happiest he’d ever been. And perhaps tomorrow, if Dean had anything to say about it, tomorrow he’d be even happier.

Cas’ eyes were full of love as he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know I don’t have any others to compare this against, but today was a very good birthday.”

“Good.” Dean pressed a sleepy kiss to Cas’ skin as his eyes drifted closed. “You deserve it.”

[spinaroos-47]

Hunter Noceda AU: Venance

(can't digitalize these rn so you'll get the sketches for now)

So yeah, Golden Guard version two!

When Belos does find out about Hunter in YBOS, Hunter gets the bomb dropped about them being related (idk how yet). but Hunter obviously doesn’t believe in it. Until Hunting Palismen comes around and they find this small thingy, Venance.

(thank you @bernardo-draws-and-cries​​ for the name. Its based on the name Venâncio, which means “the one who hunts”)

He is another grimwalker made by Belos, he’s 12 (yeah.) and way more stressed (Belos has gotten more iron fisted after losing Hunter). Someone save this poor child

- He’s just starting out as the Golden Guard (and he’s not a coven head. Kikimora is. And she still wants him dead too), he’s still getting the hang of it. He does act tough and serious, way more serious than canon GG/Hunter, no space for goofyness.

- So yeah, a duo Hunting Palismen thing would be fun. Haven’t sorted out everything here but I do think Hunter would also go with Luz because of no palisman reasons. And he hasn’t met Ven yet, he only heard Lilith talking about him and Luz and Eda dealing with him on Separate Tides (he was busy drowning in guilt and trying to help with the money situation in other ways), so when he meets Ven and when he sees his face and how similar they are (and how many scars that kid already has), he’s reasonably confused/upset, like “Oh, that creepy man wasn’t lying. This doesn’t make anything on this situation better”

- After the initial surprise/confusion, Luz and Hunter jokingly call him Ghaterer until they learn his name, then they start calling him Ven. At first Ven hates this nickname but ends up reluctantly accepting it.

- Even before Eclipse Lake he’s so scared about being replaced, and knowing about Hunter’s existence in the Boiling Isles makes it worse, now he’s super sure he isn’t as valuable to Belos anymore. So he hates Hunter

- Hunter: come here youre part of the found family now

Ven: NO

Hunter: too late *picks him up*

Hunter: If Luz taught me something is that if you didn’t want to get assimilated into my found family, you should have killed me when you had the chance

Yeah that’s their dynamic when Hunter learns a bit more about him

- Venance doesn’t have much respect as the Golden Guard yet. He’s small (like, maybe even less than 1,50m/4′11″), young, has just been starting out on this role, like, in the last few months, could easily be picked up like a kitty, so he has to fight quite a bit to be taken seriously. Which results on him being way more grumpy and short tempered

- So he doesn’t take it very well when hes made fun of by the scouts in Latissa. Not at all

- Hunter, who was joking around until then:…are you okay?

Ven: I AM! *barely holding the tears back*

Hunter:

Hunter: that’s it youre part of the family now

Ven: you can’t do that

Hunter: we’re two and you’re one, we have your staff and youre very light.

(he still would put up a fight, and it would take a while for it to end. And he bites hard, he has very sharp fangs)

- Scouts: Go home with your sibiling

Hunter: *oh. Oh yeah i forgot we have the same freaking face*

- They don’t know yet about the grimwalker thing. Well, maybe Ven discovers later but at the moment where Hunting Palismen happens, neither of them know anything besides them being related, Ven got told he is his brother, and that Hunter was taken away from the coven before he was born

- Rascal seeing Hunter: hey you’re cool, i kinda want to be your palisman

Rascal seeing Ven: oh heck this kid needs help 

- I’m not sure if Hunter gets Lil Rascal. Because on one side, would be fun for him to have Lil Rascal and train doing magic like this, but also could be good for Ven to have some small support back at home, like how they are to Hunter in canon. So this hasn’t been decided yet. Hunter could either get Lil Rascal and Ven doesn’t get a palisman/gets a blue jay palisman, or Ven gets Lil Rascal and Hunter comes back also empty handed

- So I’m going with the no palisman for Hunter route for now. 

- It’s a bitter moment for both him and Luz. He tries to convince her that it’s okay, that they’ll get theirs soon, but she still kinda feels like a failure about this. And he himself thinks it’s because they don’t have a magic bile sac, so it’s not a good time for them. Eda and King lift their spirits a bit about this, though.

- Either by peeking around or just flat out being told, Ven does learn about him (and Hunter) being grimwalkers. What does he do with that? He has a crisis about it, which raises even more the stakes for him in Eclipse Lake. He still wouldn’t know his purpose for the Day of Unity, but he would know that he was created for it and could lose his position if he didn’t prove himself worthy of it.

- He would explode at Hunter one day and end up telling the truth about them being Grimwalkers (after Eclipse Lake)

- Ven: Do you want to know what you really are?! You’re a clone! You’re just someone’s clone just like me! A replacement!

Hunter, trying to not freak out but freaking out anyways: ...are you okay?

Ven; WHAT DO YOU THINK?

- If Belos is searching for Hunter, on the grounds of him being a more mature grimwalker than Venance, Ven could end up resorting to sabotaging the searches, he doesn’t want to be replaced.

- And he’s making Ven convinced that he will be replaced, to pit both boys against eachother. He gets Ven more under his thumb and not risking Hunter making Ven change his mind. Which doesn’t work as he intented, Ven does get scared about it but Hunter ends up pretty quickly going “dude why do you think I want to replace you?” and Ven is quickly thrown into a loop because he can’t understand why he wouldn’t want to do that

- Ven: what do you mean with “I don’t wanna be the Golden Guard”? If you’re like me you should DESIRE IT SINCE YOU WERE BORN

Hunter: lol no. I dealt with my need of approval a year ago on therapy.

Hunter: Also being a cop sucks.

- This boy is a tense child always a few bad moments away from a breakdown/meltdown. And has anger problems. A lot of anger in a very tiny body

- There’s some more interactions between Ven and the Noceda duo, and he would rather die than admit that he’s got slightly attached to them

- Eda: Luz told me that Golden Guard is a uwu smol boi that needs to be protected, hell knows what this means 

Hunter, who definetly came there too because FUCKING COOL ASS CAVE AND LAKE: i hate/love her

Ven: If i ever see that human again-

Amity AND Hunter: watch your fucking mouth

(definetly not how it would play out but very funny sdkdshdfsj)

- In terms of strength he couldn’t defeat Amity in a fight for the key, he would lean more on the blackmailing. He is a 12 year old but he’s still on a position of power on the emperor’s coven and he knows where the key is, it would put the owlfam on Belos’ line of sight again (if they even ever went away from it)

- That or he passes out, gets dragged out of there by them (he’s a lil shit but they’re not going to leave him there alone where Kikimora could kill him) and he falls asleep for 12 hours in the couch on the owl house. Which ends up giving him a day where he can be just a kid. He’s very weirded out by everything but he enjoys it a little bit at least. He would still try to get the key and would be torn apart by the guilt of thinking of doing this and the guilt of not doing this

- It wouldn’t take much to make him want to stay in the owl house. He’s starved for positive attention. It wouldn’t be easy but also it’s not as hard as for how Hunter is right now in canon

- I don’t think this could happen but I keep thinking about one day him and Hunter switching places so he can be just a kid for one day. Would be cool to see him sneaking into Hexside (or being dragged there, which is more likely to happen) and interacting with Willow and Gus

And that’s some of what we have for Ven right now! He’s a fun character to figure out :3

This took SO MUCH TIME to write

[blackandgoldandeverythingnice]

among the fields of gold - c. mcavoy

Pairing: Charlie McAvoy x female!OC

Summary: A little sneak peek into the future of charlie and nellie from i’m so glad to know as they attend the 2026 Olympics 

Word Count: 4,682

A/N: Just the most self-indulgent little fluff I could come up with because I love writing them.

Warnings: none! the smallest hint of adult content but that’s about it.

“This is so fucking cool – did you ever actually tell me how cool it was to be at the Olympics?” Charlie was bouncing along the streets of Milan and swinging Eleanora’s hand as they went, a couple of other Team USA players behind them as they used the off day to do the touristy things they hadn’t yet been able to do during the first round of games.

“You’ve done plenty of World’s before, it’s almost the same.”

“It absolutely is not.” He argued back, glancing down and smirking at the little scowl on her face. He ignored the groans of a couple from the guys at the fact they were about to start bickering. It wasn’t their fault; he didn’t invite the idiots to come with them.

“You’re just excited because you’re staying in the Village and there are a bunch of girls there too – you don’t get that at World’s.”

“Yeah, I’m there for the girls.” He rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand before leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

The team was housed on their own floor in the dedicated USA building and it was like being back on a road trip in Peewees. They’d cruised through the round-robin, winning every game in their group and were heading into the elimination games. A lot of the guys had played together for years through development camps and national teams and they felt good about their chances.

They’d been wandering the streets of Milan, seeing as much of the sites as they could since all they’d seen were the inside of rinks. While Charlie had wanted to spend it just with Eleanora, some of the guys had caught him in the lobby with her on their way back from breakfast and insisted on joining them. She had pretty much become their team mascot: at every game, made a new sign for each and chatted with all the families happily. It made something in him burst in pride at the sight of her fitting so seamlessly into his life now. It hadn’t been an easy road to get there.

“Can you two not?” one of the Hughes brothers interrupted.

“Yeah, let’s stop this before it really gets rolling.” Matthew Tkachuk cut in, sweeping past Charlie with a smirk as he hit his shoulder and made his way across the square towards the Duomo. A few of the other guys sped passed them, running around the square and changing pigeons.

“And for a former Olympian, could you walk any slower?” Auston Matthews teased as he came right up close behind them.

Annoyed, Charlie shoved his teammate away just as Eleanora pinched his side. “I’m sorry, put some respect on the only gold medalist in this little crew right now. Also, I’m six months pregnant, dick head – you try carrying a bowling ball around your middle on these cobblestone ass streets.”

“Technically, a McAvoy has a gold medal – shouldn’t have changed your last name, babe.” Auston grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders but making sure to gently guide her as they walked around the various tourists and other athletes who had done the same thing they did.  

“Can you get the fuck away from my wife?” Charlie groaned, checking Auston away so he could pull Eleanora into his side.

The rest of the guys walked ahead, leaving the two of them alone. Charlie smiled down at the way Eleanora was basking in the bright, cold air, her cheeks flushed and nose a little pink. There was a visible glow around her. He’d always thought it was bullshit when they said pregnant woman glowed but since the second she’d taken the test, there was a light happy aura around her. Walking with her tucked into him like she was slowed them down but Charlie liked making sure Eleanora was okay, to the point that she might kill him at some point if he asked her again how she was feeling.

“How are you – ”

“Don’t you dare ask how I feel right now, Charlie McAvoy.”

He pouted down at her. “It’s a valid question, they keep you scheduled so late for some of the media shit.”

“It’s called my job, babe.” She hip checked him gently. She’d stayed involved in the figure skating community and this year they’d invited her to provide commentary for the ladies’ singles. Turns out she was incredibly personable in front of the cameras and enjoyed talking to the young skaters. “I’m just happy none of your games conflict with the skating. I don’t think they’d love me ‘calling out sick’ only to have me show up on TV on the glass yelling at you to play better.”

“Excuse you, I have the most minutes played and highest rating.”

“Yes, baby – you’re very highly rated.” She snuggled into his side, and he laughed when she slid her hand into his back pocket and squeezed his ass.

The pair of them walked slowly around the square, laughing at the guys as they ran around. A few of Team Canada showed up along with a few of the Czech players. Since most of the teams were made up of NHLers, all the teams were friendly off-ice and trying to control them was like corralling kids at their first away tournament. A few fans stopped them as they went but most of them were interested in getting pictures with Eleanora rather than any of the guys, something the team loved to tease Charlie about. Joke was on them, he couldn’t be more proud to watch the way people adored her.

“How’s my boy doing?” he changed tactics as a group of young girls walked away after spending five minutes taking pictures with her and asking what it was like to win gold.

“I think he wants pizza and pasta.”

“Pizza and pasta? Not or?”

“You’re really gonna ask how I feel then judge your pregnant wife for wanting all the food?” the glare she shot him was enough to have him throwing his hands up in defense.

He leaned down to kiss her but she dodged him. “No way, bud – find me food then you can kiss me.”

“In my defense, I asked what my son wants to eat – you’re incidental to me checking up on him.”

“Do you want to die? Is that your plan? You want Team USA hockey to lose the gold because their captain was murdered by his pregnant wife?”

“Why’s Goldie threatening your life?” Jake popped up behind them, scaring the shit out of Charlie while Eleanora had seen him coming.

“He’s judging how much I want to eat.”

“Well, come on my fellow sewer rat – if Chuckie won’t love you right, I will.”

Jake offered her his hand and she took it, tossing a teasing smile behind her as the two of them started towards one of the side streets to find a suitable restaurant leaving Charlie to scurry after them.

--- ---

Eleanora chewed distractedly on her cuticle, staring at the clean sheet of ice waiting for the guys to step on for warmups. As she had for every single game, she was standing on the glass at the corner where her and his family had sat for the entirety of the tournament. The jersey of Charlie’s she had on barely fit over her belly and the maternity leggings made her feel like a sausage. Bouncing on the balls of her feet anxiously, she was as nervous as she’d been for her own gold medal skate.

“How’re you feeling?” a voice interrupted her nervous thoughts and she glanced over to see her father-in-law sliding into the seat next to her. After the first win, they’d sat in the same order they’d been in for every other game that followed. While Charlie wasn’t overly superstitious, Eleanora was and there’d been half a dozen little rituals she’d come up with for this Olympics.

“Jesus, your son ask you to ask me that?” she teased back at Charlie Sr. She rubbed her belly slightly and tried not to wince at the pain in her back. “Pretty sure this asshole is sitting right on my sciatic nerve.”

“Can you not call my first grandson an asshole?” Charlie’s mom appeared on her other side, looping her arm through hers. “But seriously, you alright?”

“No pain I haven’t dealt with before but this kid is already putting me through the wringer. I have to do this for 3 more months?”

Mrs. McAvoy frowned sympathetically and rubbed her arm softly. “Sorry, Ellie but yes. It’ll be worth it though.”

Just as she spoke, the guys stepped out and Eleanora zeroed in on Charlie leading the way, pushing the pucks off the edge of the bench and onto the ice.

“I can’t believe this – my son is going to be an Olympic medalist no matter what.” His mom said, sniffling slightly as she watched them start skating.

“We want gold, Jen – right, kid?” Senior nudged her in the side.

Eleanora smiled slightly. “I just want him to do the best he can.”

“Bullshit, you’re more competitive than he is. I saw you cursing him out last game for - and I quote - ‘a bullshit lazy turnover’.” Holly added as she joined the conversation, pushing her mom out of the seat next to Eleanora so she could keep the right lineup. 

They all laughed while she just shrugged. “No one plays for second place...although I do kinda like being the only gold medalist. It’s how I get him to do things for me when I think I deserve them.”

The noise in the arena started to swell as the Canadians took the ice and Eleanora felt the familiar buzz and thrill of the pressure building. She hadn’t been able to see Charlie this morning, only getting a quick FaceTime as she’d been wrapping up interviews with some of the figure skaters who were getting ready for their final performance the following day.

“How was he this morning?”  

Kayla shrugged. “Quiet. He missed you.”

She frowned, cursing herself for not having been there. It was their routine for the last few years, she was always the last person to see him before he went into the locker room for a big game. It felt like a bad omen that she’d missed giving him a last kiss before the biggest game of his career.

But just then Charlie skated by them for the first time, helmet off and his hair flowing behind him. He tapped the glass as he went by but kept skating in loops. After a couple laps and drills, he returned to the corner and stopped in front of her.

She couldn’t hear him over the crowd but he was pointing at her and gesturing halfway across the rink to where there was an opening in the boards. She followed where he was pointing to see one of the arena staff standing by the entrance to the locker rooms and she got the hint, squeezing through the seats as fast she could. The belly didn’t exactly help her move quickly or the people that kept trying to stop her.

He was already waiting for her by the time she reached the space, his gloves off and resting on the side. He reached out for her and she stepped eagerly towards him. On skates he was so much taller than her that she had to stand on tip toe just to wrap her arms around his neck. She was cognizant of the eyes of those in the area on them and she was sure there were cameras zooming in too.

“I couldn’t play the biggest game of my life without getting my good luck kiss.”

The stares and camera clicks faded away as she stared up at him. Knowing how the media was obsessed with “Their Story”, this was bound to be everywhere in no time. It’s why they liked their moment to be private before a game but right now, Eleanora couldn’t quite care because all she wanted was Charlie to win.

Gently, he brushed her stomach and just as he did, the baby gave a hard kick. Charlie grinned, leaning down to press his lips firmly to hers and she smiled into the kiss. “I think someone’s telling you he wants you to win.”

“I plan on winning it for his momma, gotta impress her.” He smirked, his face still inches from hers.

“I love you, baby – so fucking much.” She pressed one final kiss to his lips. “I’m not gonna tell you just making it to the gold medal game is an achievement – even though it is. You know what you need to do. Go fucking win it.”

“I shoulda had you do the pump-up speech for the boys.” He kissed her nose quickly before pulling back and grabbing his gloves to return to warmups. “I love you, babe – see you on the ice after.”

She watched him skate away, her palm flat against her belly and she felt another strong kick. Rubbing her stomach she looked down at the USA stretched across her front, smiling softly as she whispered to herself.

“Don’t worry, little man – daddy’s gonna win it for us.”

--- ---

The second period started with the game tied at two. Charlie had an assist and had already spent almost twelve minutes on the ice. Despite most of the off-ice friendships and even teammates who were playing against each other it was getting chippy. They all clearly wanted it and weren’t holding back. Tkachuk had managed to draw three penalties while only going to the box once himself.

Eleanora felt like she was going to lose her voice the amount she’d been screaming throughout the game. It seemed like part of Team Canada’s game strategy was to go after Charlie as much as possible. They’d been hitting him hard and there’d been one particularly nasty penalty he drew when Chabot leveled him with a late hit. Charlie had been slow to get up from that one but within the first thirty seconds of the powerplay, he’d put a pass right on Auston’s tape for the tying goal.

There had always been something both exhilarating and nerve-wracking about watching Charlie play. When he was on the ice, she only watched him, not even noticing where the puck was or what action was happening unless he was involved.

It was partially how she was able to react a second before the rest of the rink when she saw Chabot coming from behind him, hitting him hard and sending Charlie headfirst into the boards. He was splayed out flat on the ice while his teammates immediately rushed to his defense, Auston and Tkachuk jumping Chabot before Auston was pulled away by Dougie Hamilton. Eleanora felt like climbing over the glass to get to him and Kayla was gripping her arm tightly.

“Get up. Get up. Get up, Junior.” His dad was begging while Eleanora just kept staring in horror.

After what felt like hours but was probably only a minute, he slowly tucked his legs up under him and managed to get to a kneeling position just as the team doctor reached him. He was clearly still dazed, holding one hand on his helmet as he slowly got up. Gaudreau had come over and was kneeling next to him, offering to help him up but Charlie waved him off.

The arena applauded as he stood up, but Eleanora couldn’t feel the relief everyone else did as she watched them lead Charlie to the locker room.

“He’s okay. He got up on his own. They just have to check him out for protocol. He’s okay.” Kayla was chanting and all Eleanora wanted to do was rush to the locker room. Instead of watching the rest of the game, she stared at the locker room entrance, praying Charlie would return to the bench.

They ended the second period down by one and only during the intermission did she let herself pull her phone out to find the replay of the hit. They all huddled around together watching intently, only slightly reassured that Charlie had gotten up on his own and made his way quickly down the tunnel without support. It felt like time was moving in slow motion as the ice was cleaned. Finally, the lights dimmed again and the players started back out on the ice.

It felt like a weight was lifted when she saw Charlie hop out last, doing quick laps to warm back up as he shook his legs out. As he went by them, he tapped the glass and Eleanora felt like she was going to cry just from the quick wink he gave her.

“Thank god.” His mom sighed a breath and Eleanora felt lightheaded as she rubbed her stomach aimlessly. The baby had been active all game, bouncing around and kicking more than usual. It’s like he could sense what was happening around them.  

The third period wasn’t any less stressful, Team Canada was clearly content to play defense while Team USA threw everything at them but couldn’t seem to find the back of the net. But then in the last 27 seconds of the game, Charlie caught a pass from Quinn Hughes and buried it in the top corner of the net to tie the game. The roar of the arena felt deafening as they all jumped up and down, screaming happily while the players mobbed their captain. The crowd clearly expected overtime, neither team wanting to give one up in the remaining seconds of the game.

But then Conor McDavid of all people misplayed the puck in the neutral zone and it landed on Jack Eichel’s stick who shot down the ice on a breakaway with only 7 seconds to go, shifting to his backhand as he slid the puck between the goalie’s legs.

If it was possible, the roof would’ve blown off the top of the arena. Team USA hadn’t won since the 1980 Miracle on Ice game and the place was shaking with excitement. USA gear and equipment was strewn across the ice like confetti while Team Canada stared on in disbelief, some kneeling together watching while others had already started to make their way towards the locker room.

People were hugging her tightly and screaming in her ear. Eleanora wasn’t even sure they were all people she knew. Charlie Sr. pulled her away from whoever was holding her and into a tight hug while the rest of the family crowded around jumping as they celebrated. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she tried to spot Charlie on the ice but her vision was blurry.

Sobbing into one hand, the other pressed tight against her stomach she felt another strong kick which only made her sob harder. It was better than her own win because she hadn’t had any true family to celebrate with besides her coaches who had become replacement parents to her. This was entirely different and felt like they’d all won it.

The celebrations continued on the ice as the McAvoys all made their way towards the same opening Eleanora had talked to Charlie before the game start. Other wives and families were already there, pulling each other into hugs, most of the moms crying happily while a few of the dads tried to fight their own tears except for Jim Hughes who was openly crying as he held his wife tightly to him.

Standing on the glass so she could watch, Eleanora scanned the sea of blue jerseys to try to find Charlie, biting her lip to try to stop crying. She was still contemplating scaling the glass but knew the guys deserved to celebrate with their team first.

Finally, her impatience grew and Eleanora, just popped the door open and started to make her way onto the ice. Once the dam broke, the rest of the families followed, ignoring the staff asking for them to stay off the ice until they had carpets laid down.

It was decidedly difficult to maneuver on the ice in sneakers and a pregnant belly but she moved as quickly and carefully as she could towards her target. Their eyes locked and Charlie broke away from the guys to get to her. When he reached her, he went right for her waist, dragging her up and off the ice as he twirled her around as she held tightly to him.

Neither of them spoke at first as Eleanora pressed kisses all over his face as he laughed until he could kiss her back. It was awkward to be held up so Charlie carefully set her down on the ice, one hand tucking protectively against her back so she wouldn’t slip and the other pressed gently on her belly as he leaned down for the sweetest kiss they’d ever shared.

“I told you I’d win it for you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Not before scaring the shit out of me first.” She shot back but squeezed his waist tightly, her face landing in the sweaty material. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Teddy.”

She stared up at him, and despite the fact that he had just won the biggest game of his life, he was staring at her like they were the only two people in the world.

“This is almost as good as our wedding night.”

She gave a watery chuckle in return. “Just the wedding night not the wedding itself?”

“Eh, that was okay too.” He teased just as the rest of his family joined them. Reluctantly, she released him so he could hug his family, stepping back to give them a moment.

A few of the guys paused to hug her as they went by but mostly she just stood there watching Charlie beaming at everyone around him. The camera crews were starting to show up as the staff worked to get the carpets out and set up the podiums. Eleanora knew they wouldn’t get a private moment together for hours and she tried to melt into the background but Charlie was having none of that, snagging her hand and dragging her towards him as they started to interview him.

From her position under his arm, she stared up at him as he spoke, beaming proudly as he talked about the win and how special it was for them. She was so focused on him she didn’t realized they’d asked her a question.

“Nellie.” Charlie whispered, nudging her with a nose to the top of her head and she glanced at the reporter who was beaming at her.

“I was just asking how this compares to your own gold medal win just four years ago?” they repeated the question.

Eleanora grinned and squeezed his side tighter. “There’s no comparison.” She started, enjoying some of the frowns that followed before continuing. “What Charlie and the boys did was so beyond historic and I’m so proud to have been able to watch it happen. This team worked so hard and never gave up. I’m just thrilled I was able to share in it. Although I’m pretty pissed that I can’t win arguments anymore by saying ‘well I have a gold medal so you have to do what I say’.”

Everyone laughed in response, Charlie squeezing her side lightly.

“I’m sure you guys haven’t seen yet but the video of you two right before the game has become quite popular.” Eleanora flushed slightly as they continued. “Charlie – did you get any last minute advice?”

She pinched his side, hoping he’d lie but the smirk on his face already told her differently. “She pretty much told me that just getting to the medal game wasn’t enough and that I knew what to do. Pretty sure the exact words were ‘now go fucking win it’ and honestly, I can’t really say no to my wife so I did.”

--- ---

It was nearly three hours later by the time Eleanora and Charlie were walking into her hotel room and shutting the door so they were finally alone. They were planning on changing then meeting up with everyone to celebrate. Most of the guys’ flights weren’t for another day or two so they planned to enjoy what little remained of their Olympic break before they’d have to return to their teams for the rest of the season.

Charlie face planted onto the king-size bed. “Fuck, you’ve been sleeping on this for two weeks while I’ve been on the worst twin mattress in the world?”

Eleanora giggled, pulling her jersey off leaving on her loose t-shirt, she slipped out of her sneakers and kicked them towards the door so she could sit and join him on the bed. Despite how happy she was, she was exhausted and the pain in her back went from dull to stabbing on a dime. It took a little effort for her to climb up onto the bed and get comfy as she curled up on her side.

Charlie inched up so his nose was brushing against her swollen belly. Her hand immediately fell to his hair, running her fingers through gently and scratching his scalp. He brought his arm up so he was hugging her middle and pressed his lips against her.

“Hi, Tripp.” He whispered causing Eleanora to tug his hair gently.

“Baby, no. Even if he ends up Charlie the third, we are not calling him Tripp.”

Charlie ignored her. “Ignore mommy, I’ll make sure you get a cool nickname.”

She rolled her eyes but he kept talking. “I don’t know if you heard all that noise but now you have two parents with gold medals. We’re pretty big deals.”

“Kid was bouncing all over the place for most of the game before settling directly on my sciatic nerve so I couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Be nice to mommy, sweet boy.” He mumbled and pressed a kiss to her stomach before turning up so he could stare at her. “I think I won because of you.”

“You won because you’re an amazing hockey player and leader. You did this. Next up you can win us a Cup.” She smiled softly, stroking his hair as he crawled up so their faces were level. They lay there quietly together, staring at each other and enjoying the peace. They’d both turned their phones off, telling his family they’d see them at the restaurant that USA hockey had reserved for them. For now, they just wanted to be alone.

Carefully, Eleanora brushed Charlie’s hair off his forehead. “Your head okay? I might kill that Canadian fuck.”

Charlie laughed but cringed slightly. His head hurt more than he let on but he passed concussion protocol and had a few days off before he’d have to be back on the ice for a game.

“Are you okay? I know when you’re in pain, Nellie.”

She winced despite trying to smile as he tucked his hand under her top to lay on her bare skin, soothingly running his thumb along belly.

“Just pregnancy, or so I’m told. I need to figure out how to get him off this nerve or I’m gonna spend the flight pacing the aisles because I won’t be able to sit.”

Charlie frowned. “I hate seeing you in pain. And I’m worried you won’t want the five that I want if this one is such a pain in the ass.”

She snorted, inching forward to kiss him softly. “Let’s get through meeting this little man first then we’ll talk more, kay?”

“You’re the love of my fucking life, you know that?” he gripped her neck gently.

Smiling, she leaned forward to steal another kiss. “Lucky for you, it’s mutual. Now…I bet we could find a comfy position for you to fuck me in before we have to go to the restaurant.”

A slow smirk spread across Charlie’s face as he rolled her carefully onto her back so he could lean over her.

“I can definitely do that.”

[thiserichann]

cinderella and the mystery of the red lipstick (smut version) - d.sc

reader x roommate!winwin

genre: smut, fluff, humor

warnings: making out, drunk sex, femdom, safe sex, a bit of soft dom! Winwin and soft dom! reader

word count: 2562

synopsis: this is another Cinderella fic, except for the fact that she left lipstick stains instead of glass slippers

prompt:

This is my (very late) entry for @neosmutcollective's Risque event.

The song it was based on was Lips by NCT 127 (although it leaned towards the demo version more)

It was also a bit upbeat because the song Cinderella by CNBLUE (the Youth With You version) has been stuck on my head for ages now.

Enjoy reading!

Love, Ellie.

(link to the full story here)

Entering the party through someone’s window is probably the most ungraceful way to enter the party. However, you had no choice. Yes, it was rude to enter someone’s party without the owner’s invite. But, in your defense, it was ruder to not invite someone to a house party at your place.

Your brother, dear Hendery Huang, was kind enough to send you on your merry way that morning when you told him that you’re coming home late for a project.

“You know what, since I love you so much, you can stay over until morning. Sounds fun, right?”

And then the bastard proceeded to throw a party that same day.

The window to your shared bedroom with Hendery was wide open. He should be glad that it was you walking in rather than a criminal.

It wasn’t a criminal offense if you’re the one breaking in at your place.

You have successfully entered your room, changing into an outfit that your family would’ve never approved of, and wore layers of makeup to hide your identity. After the makeover, you’re almost unrecognizable. Your favorite touch is that bright red lip that you ordered from a friend that morning. There had been a mix-up in the delivery, you’re supposed to get that mauve color that you always wore when you go out. It was an honest mistake on the seller’s part, but you were kind enough to not send it back and keep the color instead.

You made it out of the room without being unnoticed. It’s not like anyone knows you at all though. The crowd is usually made up of people within Hendery and his roommates’ circle, people you usually do not interact with daily. You’ve also managed to sneak past the living room and into the kitchen where all the booze is. Grabbing a red cup full of whatever alcohol was on the counter, you made your way once again to the sea of people enjoying the party.

Since you barely knew every one, you just settled on leaning against the wall and observed the rest of the party. Honestly, you couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. It’s just a bunch of people using alcohol as an excuse to doing a bunch of dumb shit.

The introvert in you kicked in, and so you decided to finish your vodka in peace, which is translated to getting drunk in your room as you watch your favorite Netflix series.

Smiling happily, you made your way out past the crowd and into the sleeping quarters, where your room is. Thankfully, the guys are nowhere to be found and you can happily sneak back to your room without getting noticed. You have failed to account for one thing though. Near the sleeping quarters is a single, communal bathroom. Just as you’re about to enter your room, outcomes Sicheng, in a daze, trying his best to stand still as he holds on to the bathroom door for support.

“You can’t go there.” He croaked, speech already slurring due to his drunken state.

“Ah, yes. Thanks.” You made zero fuss about it, knowing that staying there would expose you to Sicheng. You don’t think he will tell your brother of your current whereabouts, but you digressed, just to be safe.

He then proceeds to call your name.

“Is that you? Can you help me out here?” You grunted, knowing full well that your identity had just been revealed. The guy looked like he needed help though, so you threw all the world in and helped him go back to his room. You grabbed him by his arms, which he then wrapped around you to help him support his weight, and walked step by step towards his room.

You heard footsteps coming from the outside, and in your panic, you used the drunk man’s body to shield the view of whoever it is that’s coming that way.

“Winwin hyung, you alright back there?”

Your heartbeat raced when you heard your brother’s voice. Knowing him, he would tell your mother that her precious little daughter is not only drunk but she’s wrapped around a guy’s arms doing god-knows-what. You leaned across the wall, stretching your arm out and wrapping it around Winwin’s neck. You pulled him closer, bodies only inches apart, making it look like the two of you are making out.

“Oh, you’re busy. Alright. Have fun!” The footsteps were gone in the moment, but your position stayed the same. You turned your gaze back at Sicheng, which is now looking at you weirdly.

“Hey.” You whispered.

“Hey.”

“I would like to get out of this position now.” You whispered once again, hints of your nerves already peeking out of your voice.”

“You’re pretty.” You stayed quiet, but you’re mentally screaming inside. Your emotions are going in a frenzy and something on the back of your mind keeps on telling you to pull him closer and turn the act into reality.

But that would be weird, right? Even if you’re a bit tipsy, reason has never left your brain. It’s nagging you to do the opposite, to push him away and proceed with your evening plans. The internal conflict rendered you frozen on the spot.

His eyes were fixed on yours, and as much as you want to look away, you’re afraid that that will get you into more danger. Looking away means you’re gonna have to take your eyes off of him, and you won’t see what he’s about to do next.

He was staring, which you now realized is him waiting for you to react and do something. Pull him closer and get lost in him, or push him away and live with the rest of your lives knowing that you missed an opportunity to get with someone you never thought would be interested in you.

Something.

Your inactive irritated him, and so he leaned in closer, his lips now hovering above yours, the scent of his perfume, sweat, and alcohol made him addictive.

“What’s stopping you right now?”

You were breathless, but you know you had to answer. He’s got a bit of authoritativeness in him and you feel like refusal consequent to a punishment.

“You.”

“I can stop if you're uncomfortable,” Winwin smiles, not the perverted kind, but the sweet reassuring kind that made you melt inside. "But the way you're holding me right now tells me otherwise."

He carefully placed his hands on your hip, calculating his every move to not get slapped that evening. It worked. You didn't even pick up a fight, even as his hands glided to your back to finally seal the distance between the two of you.

"So tell me, do you want me to stop?"

You had a clear answer in your head, but no sounds come out of your mouth except small squeaks and squeals due to his touch. It took you a while to utter the following words to him.

"No. Don't stop."

"Good." That was his only response. He took your answer as a sign of your consent and pushed you back to the wall, finally claiming your lips as he does so. You moaned under him, unable to tell him about how overwhelmed you are, and that you don't know how to move and match his pace. You take a deep breath and relaxed, letting him take the lead as he hugged you closer, going deeper into the kiss. He also made sure to give attention to your neck and jaws, which leaves you to place your lips in any piece of skin that you're able to reach the moment.

Before anything fun happens though, he pulled away from you, leaving you there in confusion.

"More?"

"More." This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. Slowly, you get traces of the old Sicheng back. The shy and quiet kid from before, not the confident sex demon that he was a few minutes back.

He had the mind to open his bedroom door, which was just a few inches away from where the two of you were just standing. The idea of him having common sense made him a lot sexier. It was enough to tickle that sapiophile in you.

In a few careful steps, your back hits the bed and he was on top of you. It seems like he was uncomfortable with that idea, and so he carried you in his arms and switched the positions, leaving you on top of him. You can still tell that he was very drunk, and he might not be able to do things with full precision in that state. Again, his sense is sexy.

You took that as a sign to take over, so you pulled away to try and fix the position into something more comfortable. When you did though, you were horrified to see that your lipstick was not kiss-proof, and so he some of it smeared all across his face and neck. It didn't bother him at all though because he used his perfectly white shirt to wipe some of it off of his face.

"Well?" You were snapped back into reality and proceeded to sit on his lower torso, kissing him with the same intensity that you did earlier. He happily returned the favor, making sure to place his hands on your sensitive skin, giving you goosebumps all over.

He was the first one to take off his shirt, throwing it into the side of the bed to take some of the heat off his body. You followed the suit, discovering that you made a good call earlier by wearing something sexy underneath. It was supposed by making you feel confident as you blend in with the crowd earlier, but it was a happy coincidence that it matched with the lipstick that you had earlier.

He sat down from the bed, leaning against the bedframe, just so he can reach you better. His fingers twirled around the straps of your bra, bringing them down slowly and let them fall to your shoulders. You helped him out by unclasping the hook, removing it completely from your body. It has now joined the pile of discarded clothing below the bed.

His eyes now fall on your half-naked body, gulping down a few times before he said, "I never really took you as the type to do this." You placed a finger in his chins and scooted closer.

"Me neither." You placed a few, quick pecks on his lips, which slowly turned back into a more passionate one, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol in each other's mouth. His hand traveled upwards, cupping a boob softly. The touch sent shivers throughout your body. He started kneading it softly, matching the current pace of the kiss. In between kisses, he staring spewing out nonsense, like how beautiful you looked at that light and how soft your skin feels under his skin. This is the most talkative he's been since you first saw him, and you can't tell if it's the alcohol or he's just that noisy in bed. Nonetheless, you were elated. Every piece of flattery that he says made you blush, making you glow even more in his eyes.

But his favorite will always be your lips. He loved it when your lips left red marks on his neck. He loved it when you moan his name every time his hand would caress you. He made sure to let you know that your pretty lips would be something that he can't forget.

He takes off the rest of your clothes. Even as he dipped his fingers inside you, he made sure to claim your lips, keeping it occupied as much as he can. It's the only thing that's keeping him hooked, even when his body is telling him to shut down.

You couldn't wait any longer, and so you scooted down and took off his pants and underwear, rolling it off him as quickly as you can. You didn't wait for him to respond, taking it in your mouth instead, earning a surprised gasp from him. You can hear him whining from under you, moaning your name, and as your mouth takes all of him. It didn't take a while though, because he motioned you to stop and come closer. He was breathless after you were done with him.

He reached out for the desk rights beside his bed, feeling out the drawers before he managed to pull out a foil packet. He carelessly ripped it with his teeth and grabbed the condom inside to hand it to you. You realized that his vision must still be blurry, and so you took the liberty to unroll it in his cock and get on with it. Then, you carefully lined his dick to your entrance, lowering your body slowly, stretching you down until he was fully inside. He grabbed your hips and pushed inside further into you unexpectedly.

"Oh my god, Dong Sicheng!"

He laughed at the notion of you saying his full name in shock, but you were able to recover quickly and met his movements, which is getting quicker and harder every few minutes. Your head falls on his chest, muffling your moans with his skin as you tried your best to keep quiet and hide your presence from the rest of the people in the party. More lipstick stains scatter on his chest, but at that point, Sicheng never cared. He wasn't feeling like himself anymore. His thoughts are empty besides the image of you on top of him, riding him out to orgasm.

Winwin is now getting rougher by the second, series of moans and curses spilling from his mouth as his grip on your waist gets tighter, drilling deeper and harder into you like a madman. You also threw all care away, moans now reaching all four corners of the room, holding on to Sicheng for your damn life as you get closer to your orgasm. In one quick thrust, you started to unravel on top of him, hugging his body closer as you shiver from your orgasm. He never slowed down, because he soon let out a long, drawn-out groan, and you can feel him growing soft inside you, milking out your orgasms as much as he can.

The activity did a number on Sicheng because, in a few minutes of cuddling from under his sheets, you can already hear the quiet snores coming from his direction. You felt bad, apologetic even, that he had to pour out all of his remaining energy on you that night. You slowly pulled away from him, picking the rest of your clothes off before you bid your roommate goodbye for tonight. As much as you loved the cuddles, you'd rather be caught dead than be caught by your brother under someone's bed.

///

"Please don't let any of this get to Hendery. He would never let me see the end of it." You pleaded, placing a hand on the bridge of your nose as you recall the moments of last night.

"I think your brother knows already. He's smarter than you think, just like how you're not as innocent as he thinks."

It was the first time that he smiled today, which gave you major flashbacks of last night's rendezvous.

"I was right about one thing last night, though. I'll never be able to forget those lips.”

[twistedmusings]

A Midnight Prank

[Set during Chapter 5] 

Ace figured that if you were sleeping so peacefully in your bed while he had to spend a good portion of the night on the floor, why shouldn’t he try to get his revenge? A small midnight prank would be a good way to teach you about leaving him laying on the floor like that~ 

Warnings: Lime. Very mild somnopholia and food play with Ace slowly starting to realize that he might have taken a prank a bit too far. 

A/N: What better way to start this writing blog than to reveal myself as an Ace stan. I barely blinked when I first started with this game but the moment he popped up in Ghost Marriage I guess my eyes just suddenly saw the light because this boy has such yan possibilities as well as being a tease about everything. So enjoy this self indulgent drabble, I’ll see if I write more like these ò uó. 

“Oh Great Sevens…my back.”

Ace stands up and stretches, looking down at his best friend’s and Grim’s position on the floor. Of all the things Vil could do, poisoning the food? 

Well not really poisoning but cursing the food? Who the hell cursed food? Especially Trey’s baked goods?! It was a late-night snack, a team bonding exercise! To him, Ramshackle was the place he could get away with being himself without having to follow Riddle’s sometimes ridiculous rules! Yet he had just spent the good half of the night laying on the cold, hardwood floor with Deuce and Grim like some punished first year despite the fact that he was best friends with the prefect of this dorm! 

And speaking of you. 

He glares at the stairs, remembering the helpless look you had sent him as you went upstairs with Vil following short after. You, better than anybody, knew how the floors of Ramshackle were! If you had been laying on the floor paralyzed, Ace would have brought you at least a pillow!

 Maybe!

A grin spreads on his face as his brain plans out a pretty simple prank. He goes over to the chocolate cake he had taken a bite out of and scoops up some of the whipped cream frosting the cake was lavishly decorated with , grinning as he grabs  a napkin and makes his way upstairs.

“This is for betraying the First Year Loyalty Pact, [Y/N]. Get ready to get yelled at, dear manager~”

His steps are quiet on the stairs, knowing where each and every creak would be in the old, wooden stairs. It had been a while since he had pulled a prank on you, the both of you teaming up to pull pranks on others and quickly running away as soon as the plan was executed. A part of him always thought that you, the favourite of Riddle whenever you came over to Heartslabyul, would not be as on board with his pranks but seeing you come up with your own little plans as both of you hid away from your rose garden duties was unexpected and highly welcomed.

Your excited tone, the way you moved your hands. It would get Ace riled up and ready to execute absolutely anything under your orders. 

Cater had described him as being 'whipped' but Ace didn't even know what that meant so jokes on the upperclassmen, he supposed. 

He snickers as he gets to your door, praising the Queen of Hearts that it was only ajar instead of fully closed. Ace had gone over a few scenarios in his head, maybe covering your entire face with the frosting or putting the frosting on your hand while tickling your nose so that you would slap yourself. Nothing too big since he still wanted to keep his friend status with you. 

Yet his best idea had popped up once he reached the side of your bed, looking down at you sleeping so peacefully. 

"Not for long~" 

If he took a peek at the clock he could see that it was three in the morning. He guessed that Vil's curse lasted around four hours. Practice started at eight so they would usually be awake around six thirty to eat a meager breakfast and start walking to Pomefiore-- 

Which meant that if you happened to take a bite out of this delicious frosting that he held in his finger, you would wake up unable to move and miss the entirety of breakfast altogether. He would also add the extra bonus of closing your door so you would have to scream for someone to come get you. 

"Essentially two birds with one stone, right [Y/N]?" he sits down at the edge and leans over you, "Your screaming will piss Vil off so much, probably throw him off his whole morning routine. Heh, even in this scenario you are my partner in crime…" 

Ace moves to trace the chocolate on your lips, a smile on his face as he wonders just what words you would be yelling out first thing in the morning. After this maybe he should go set up his camera to record Vil lecturing you while you were stuck in your bed. 

Ah. 

His fingers weren't moving. Why weren't his fingers moving? 

"Haha...ha. O-Okay, I got this. [Y/N] say 'ahh'." 

A warm hand cupped your face as he used the one not holding the sweet confectionary, pressing his thumb against your lips and swallowing down the rather huge lump in his throat as it slowly made its way past them. Ace pressed down lightly, your mouth parting slowly as his nail scraped against the top of your teeth which allowed him to press down and watch as your mouth parted open for him. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

He was sweating, why was he sweating? A normal prank would have him smiling as adrenaline rushed through his body but this wasn't the kind of rush he was expecting. 

Ace was nervous. 

Thumb pressing against your tongue, he stopped his exploring there and not daring to go another step. He remembers back in his dating days during middle school, his girlfriend always insisted on doing the 'cutesy' thing and feeding each other. Strawberries, cotton candy, anything that was just cheesy and picture perfect enough to make him sigh in annoyance. Back then it had all just been a bother. 

But with you, why was it making him feel so--

"Augh!" 

Ace pulls his finger away, your lips still parted slightly as he grabbed his hand as if it was burned. 

Come on Trappola! What the hell is wrong with you!

You! You with your soft lips, warm tongue and inviting face that looked so so peaceful while sleeping. As if nothing would wake you! Just leaving the door open so anyone would come in and take advantage of the opportunity right before them. 

The infamous prefect of Ramshackle...looking so defenseless. 

"[Y/N]." 

Ace leans over you once again, the finger covered in chocolate this time making its way past your lips with no shame as his eyes seem to glaze over with unprecedented confidence. This was all for the sake of a good prank. Hell, he should one up it and sleep next to you tonight. You would wake up to Ace looking over you, unable to move as he teases you for not noticing his presence sooner. 

"You should really lock your door at night." he shivers when he feels your tongue lapping at his finger, "Otherwise next time I'll have to pull an even naughtier prank." 

He presses down on the slimy muscle, eyes widening when he starts getting a reaction. His finger moves up and down, tracing your tongue as your body starts to slowly respond to the attention of something sweet teasing your tastebuds. 

"Mmnnn." 

The chocolate was all gone when Ace pulled his finger back, licking his lips as he saw a faint trail of drool connecting his finger to your lips. You should have the taste floating in your mouth as your body slowly took in the curse. 

Ace barely notices himself panting until he takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the sheets covering your body as he leaned in ever closer. Maybe he should check? After all he wanted to prank you so good that you wouldn't forget about it. The thought making you squirm and open your mouth, begging him to put something inside-- 

"Ace?" 

Blood nearly rushes all the way back up to Ace's head as he hears Grimm's voice, the little creature looking at him tiredly as it floated towards him. 

"G--Grimm?! What--!" 

"My tail and ears hurt! I can't believe [Y/N] just left us there. When they wake up I'm going to--" 

Grimm yawns as he makes his way over to you, gently laying on your chest as the Heartslabyul student quickly stands up and makes his way through the door. He doesn't waste any words on saying good night as he steps out into the hall, gently shutting the door behind him and sliding down to the floor. 

What the hell did I just do? 

He looks at the finger that had done the act, staring at it as if it had a mind of its own. Your mouth had been so warm and now his entire body felt cold. Anf you weren't even aware that you had just left him feeling like this! 

Ace sighs as he runs a finger through his hair, standing up and making his way downstairs to check if Deuce has woken up. 

Not necessarily noticing how he bit at the top of the finger that had become so intimate with you. 

                                                        ~~~~~

Omake 

"Kalim? It's four in the morning why the hell are you awake?" 

Ace blinks as he supports a sleeping Deuce, the other still snoring away as Kalim smiles and places a finger to his lips. 

"I'm going to see if I can sneak in a cuddle with [Y/N]. Grimm mentioned how warm they were yesterday and I've been curious ever since!"  

"Oh, cool. Have fun then." 

The Heartslabyul student keeps walking as the Scarabia dorm leader opens the door to your room, whispering a goodnight. It was only when he heard the click of your door did he nearly drop his fellow student. 

"WAIT WHAT?" 

[seriouslysnape]

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I found this prompt and immediately had to come to you (you’re my favorite Snape writer ever)!

Maybe, if you want, write this with a student aged Snape, who has a horrible dream about his best friend he’s secretly in love with, and so he sneaks into the girls’ dormitory and tells her this. (You can leave the house unnamed or something the reader can fill in.) And then they go into the common room together and sit in front of fireplace and talk it out to get him relaxed and a lot of romantic fluff follows!

SO you woke up today and chose hella fluff, huh? YOU GOT IT.

Also, thank you! You’re too sweet! :)

__

Night Fright

Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,750

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

__

His eyes snapped open in an instant, his lungs involuntarily taking a sharp inhale. It took him a second to identify where he was, or even what time it was. He eventually realized he was in his dorm room, and it was an ungodly late hour. His breathing became ragged and heavy as he tried to regain himself, reminding himself that he was safe in the comfort of his room.

He tried to slow his breathing, not wanting to wake up his roommates, who were all snoozing peacefully. He wiped at the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, ultimately pushing his hair from sticking to his clammy skin. His skinny legs were trembling something awful, and his fingers were so tingly that he could barely move them.

He sat up in his bed, taking another gander around his dorm. A sigh of relief flowed from his chest as it resonated with him once more that he was okay. Even more so, that you were okay. He had bad dreams before, but nothing like this. It had been so graphic and so real, he was sure that it had actually happened. It was even worse that you had been in it.

He tossed back the covers on his bed, swinging his feet over the side, and standing up. He knew you were fine, but he wanted to be absolutely sure. He would feel better if he actually saw you and heard your voice. He threw on a t-shirt, not bothering with pants since his boxers were enough and no one would really see him. He caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall saying it was half past 2:00 AM. He groaned to himself, annoyed that his sleep had been so abruptly interrupted.

He tip-toed past his roommates, creeping out of his dorm as quietly as possible. Thankfully, Severus had always been rather light on his feet. He knew what he was doing was totally against the rules. If he was caught sneaking into your dormitory, he’d definitely be punished or maybe even suspended until further notice. Severus grumbled at the thought of him getting in trouble for doing something that James Potter and his friends did all the time and were never scolded for.

His heart still felt like it would burst out of his chest, but his breathing had slowed to a more normal rate. The hallways were eerily quiet, the only sounds were his bare feet shuffling on the hard floors. He was glad no one was out, because he was sure that he looked like a wreck.

As he came closer to your dorm room, he wondered if you were still up. You had always been a bit of a night owl, so there was a possibility you were awake. However, it was the end of the week, so you were probably sleeping it off. He still had this feeling of paranoia that something was wrong.

He managed to shield his face from any portraits, although most of them were asleep anyways. He said a silent prayer that you were okay. He made it to your dorm, suddenly feeling kind of weird for entering a room with a bunch of sleeping girls. Much to his relief though, you were curled up in bed, sound asleep. He let out an exhale as he saw your chest rise and fall with each steady breath.

“She’s okay, Severus…she’s fine.” He whispered to himself, resting a hand on his still heavy beating chest.

He crept around your roommates’ things until he was in your space. He checked to make sure that no one had followed him before resting a hand on your shoulder, shaking gently.

“[Y/N], wake up.” He whispered quietly.

You let out a rather loud disgruntled groan, annoyed that someone was trying to wake you up. Severus winced, hoping you wouldn’t wake anyone up. You stirred for a moment, but collapsed back into your pillow.

He fought the urge to laugh, and shook you a little harder this time.

“Come on. [Y/N], wake up please.” He whispered again.

Your eyes actually peeked open this time, peering at him with an irritated look. Your aggravation didn’t last long. You immediately noticed that something was up with him. Mainly because he had never snuck into your dorm without telling you first, and also because he looked about 50 shades of terrible.

“Sev?” You murmured groggily, rubbing your eyes as you sat up from your mattress; “What are you doing here?”

He bit the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit that he had come all the way up here just to check on you. That seemed a little weird, and maybe even protective. Not that you minded Severus going out of his way to see you, but he wasn’t sure how kindly you’d take to him breaking in.

“I...just needed to see you.” He half-lied.

You quirked a curious brow at that. This was odd behavior, even for him. One of your roommates turned over with a creak, causing Severus to jump. You laughed under your breath, throwing back the covers of your bed and putting on a jacket.

“Come on. Let’s go to the common room so we can talk.” You said persuading him out of your room.

“Are you sure? You can go back to bed, I just...came by.” He replied, blushing hard when you took his hand into yours.

You noted how his hands were still shaking. His skin that was usually cold was flushed warm. Something had rattled him to his core.

“Yeah, I’m sure. She’s not a pretty sight when she doesn’t get her beauty sleep.” You said, referring to one of your roommates who was dead to the world.

You both snickered as you guided him down the staircase into your House’s common room. There was already a roaring fire, likely from whoever was the last person to turn in for the night. You and Severus settled on the couch in front of it, soaking in the warmth that the fire was emitting. Severus had grown quiet now, his eyes dead set on his fiddling hands in his lap.

You looked over him. He was notably tired. His hair was a disheveled mess from where he didn’t even bother to brush it, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his eyelids weighed heavy. Something was bothering him.

“Did something happen?” You asked at a more comfortable volume than before, but your tone was still light.

He figured that you ought to know the real reason for his surprise visit. No matter how much he liked you, he would probably never slink into your bedside “just to see you”. He sighed, averting his gaze to you.

“I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He confessed, feeling a little silly about it.

His words really tugged at your heartstrings. You had been best friends with him for years, and every day he seemed to care more and more about you. You let out a soft, sympathetic noise and scooted a little closer to him.

“You’re so sweet, Sev. I’m okay,” You assured him, resting a hand on his knee; “Do you want to talk about it?”

He felt a lot better after seeing you, feeling you, and hearing you. He was always so afraid of something happening to you. You were always the best part of his day.

“It was one of those dreams where I knew I was dreaming, but it still felt real. I was standing with you out by the lake, and then this...thing showed up and grabbed you,” He explained, his eyes opening a little wider; “Next thing I knew, you were gone and all I could hear was you screaming. I was scared. I didn’t know what happened to you, or where you went, or if I’d ever see you again...”

His pulse had quickened as he recalled the ghastly details of his dream. He just hoped he’d be able to sleep again after that. You felt horrible for him. You threw your arms around him, wrapping him in a hug. He slowly returned the embrace, burying his nose in your shirt, smelling your familiar scent. You never wanted him to worry about you.

“I’m so lucky to have someone who cares like you do,” You confessed, kissing his cheek and causing him to blush once more; “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He was tempted to bring a hand to his cheek where you had just left a kiss. He wanted to savor the feeling forever. You refused to let him go, still hugging him until you knew he felt better.

“That’s why I was so scared. If something had happened to you...oh, I don’t know what I would do.” Severus proclaimed.

Now it was your turn to blush. You pulled back from the hug, but still kept your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his hands somehow found their way to your waist, but your head was so focused on what he was saying that you didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you saying you can’t live without me?” You wondered, really hoping that this was his way of admitting his feelings for you.

You wanted this. He just had to say one little word and you were his forever. Severus didn’t say anything for a moment, and you internally cursed him for getting shy on you now. But he did, eventually, reply as clearly as ever.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying,” He said; “I love you. A million times over I’ll tell you that I love you.”

You were stunned, overwhelmed, and thrilled all at the same time. Leave it to Severus Snape to profess his love for you at almost 3 o’clock in the morning. But you didn’t care that you were missing out on precious sleep. This was way better than that.

“Oh, Severus...” You breathed, surging forward and kissing him.

He felt as if time stopped. The stars had perfectly aligned in his favor for once. The girl he was willing to bear his heart to was kissing him as if he were the only other person in the world. He was undeniably happy in this moment. You were with him, you were safe, you were perfect, and you loved him back.

That was all he’d ever want.

[queenmuzz]

It’s a Date

@shiranyaaww​ shared this pic, and said that it would be perfect for a Dante x Reader fic, so who am I to refuse?

You’re not going to cry, you tell yourself.  There’s a tonne of reasons you shouldn’t.  Your makeup, that you spent a good half hour applying, will get smeared.  Your dress, which you had spent days picking out the cutest ensemble, will get ruined by tears.

And you definitely don’t want the patrons and waitstaff of an out of the way cozy restaurant you’d heard rave reviews about to see you blubbering like a beached whale.

“Pardon me miss,  would you like to order now?”  The waiter asks, the concern on his face now slipping past his professional veneer.

You fake a smile, “Just more water please, he shouldn’t be much longer.”  A lie, and he knows it, the patrons giving you pitiful glances know it, and worst of all, you know it.

But, whether out of denial, or a vain attempt to prolong the charade, you make a great show of picking up your phone and checking your texts.

5:32 PM: Hey there, I’m at Figaroni’s now.  A bit early, so I’ll just reserve us a table.  Can’t wait to see you!😘

5:56 PM: Still waiting!  Are you lost?  It’s kinda out of the way, if you need directions, I can send them to you.

6:22 PM: Could you please text me?  I just want to know if something came up, and you can’t make it.  I’m not upset, just worried.

And underneath each text is the cold line:  READ.

You scroll through your social media, attempting to see where he might be.  You had been so excited for tonight, your first and second dates had gone so well, you thought this one would be the one that would make you two an official couple.  But now, posted just a few minutes ago, is a pic of him and a few friends at the bar, taking a group selfie, with the caption.  

Bored, so went out to hang out with the buddies, gonna wake up with a horrible hangover for work but... #YOLO

You quickly turn your phone off, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen it.  He was just running late, that’s it.   It couldn’t be that he had just ghosted you and the date, so he could hang out with his buddies.  No, because that would mean you’d dressed up, primped up, and got all excited...for nothing.  And if it was for nothing, you had just been made a fool, a goddamn lovesick fool, all in front of everyone.  If you broke down now, you’d just confirm what they thought.  The best thing to do was to leave the waiter a nice tip for dealing with your behaviour, and run out of the restaurant, and try to not think about the conversations they’ll have about you.

But you’re just frozen on the spot, knowing that the moment you stand up, you’ve accepted to yourself that you’ve been strung along, treated like the fool that you are, and you can’t just handle it.  You’re between a rock and a hard place, emotionally.  The tears spill out…

“Hey, sorry about being late, babe traffic was absolutely disgusting!”  

A man sits down in front of you, and for the briefest moment, your heart leaps out of your chest hoping that you had been wrong, your boyfriend just posted a photo of an old party he went to a week or so ago.  But then, your heart falls.  It’s not him, in fact, it’s nothing like him.  He’s wearing a red leather coat, a casual shirt with what you hope aren’t blood stains on it, and worn finger-less gloves.  He looks completely out of place in this restaurant, and yet as you look through his silver white bangs into his blue eyes, he feels like he’s meant to sit in front of you all along.

But still, you’re emotionally guarded.  You don’t know this guy, never ever seen him in your life, and for all you know, he could be just out for a free meal, under the guise of pretending to be your absent boyfriend.

He notices your shocked expression, peeks around the nearby tables and then lowers his voice. 

“Name’s Dante.  I couldn’t see a pretty lil’ thing like you looking so sad and alone, so I decided to fix that. So, let’s just play it by ear.”

You want to say something, but then the waiter comes up, looking rather relieved, and asks you if you’re ready to order.  Despite having nearly an hour to peruse the menu, the sudden appearance of this man has thrown you off.

“I’ll have the Pizza Prosciutto e Funghi” he says, his pronunciation perfect, not even looking over the menu.  

The waiter nods, “Would you like it cooked your usual way, sir?”  

Dante smiles, and winks at you,  “Extra crispy?  You bet.”

The waiter turns to you, and you barely are able to blurt out what you would like, your voice cracking, your carefully prepared pronunciation mangled.  Neither the waiter, with his professionalism, nor your replacement date seems to notice.  The man does a bow and turns toward the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about paying,” your mysterious saviour says as he pulls out some bills from his coat pocket.  “Got paid today, and I have time to spend it before my brother starts complaining about what I do with it. So,” he says as he reaches out for a piece of bread out of the basket, “Let’s get to know each other.”

So over pizza and pasta, you and him traded your backgrounds.  You had told him about your job, your family life, your interests.  And unlike the guy he replaced, he listens intently, never interrupting, unless it was to ask for more info about something you said. And as you spoke, the pain, the self consciousness melted off of you.  By the time you started asking him, as he wolfed down yet another slice, about his life, you had felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“I work for myself, it’s actually just become a family business.” He says, as he wipes his face and hands off with the napkin. “My nephew runs a mobile branch, smart kid, runs it better than I run my own business.”  His smile deepens as he reminisces, and his eyes seem to sparkle more in the candlelight. “My brother recently joined too, and although he can be a pain in the ass…” for one brief moment, a flash of regret passes over his face, before it's replaced back by his beautiful smile, “but I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for having him back.”  In the now dim evening light, you no longer notice his out of place clothes, his face is all that matters, from the whiskers on his chin, to that mane of white hair that you have to resist the urge to reach over and run your hands through.  So engrossed in him,  you’re actually a bit startled when the waiter comes to take your empty plates away.

“Try the strawberry gelato,” Dante suggests, “They make it right here, and it’s to die for.”  

His eyes light up at your expression as you try the delicious concoction,  “There, that’s what I like to see, a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be made to cry.” He grins as he sneaks a spoonful of your dessert, “Don’t know what the douche bag thought was more important than spending time with you, but trust me, it wasn’t worth it by a long shot.”  You silently thank the candlelight for hiding your rapidly growing blush.

He pays the bill, leaving a hefty tip, (and compliments the waiter and the chef, you notice) and helps you put on your coat before escorting you outside.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you walk to your car.  It’s such a meager word to express what he’s done for you.  The dinner was the smallest bit, it was the way he saved you from social embarrassment, and turned a mortifying situation into an experience that you would treasure for a lifetime.  Your only regret is that this will be a one time thing.  You shouldn’t get your hopes up, he only did it because he pitie-

“Here,” he smiles as he hands you a piece of credit card sized paper.  “I know it’s my business card, but it’s also my home phone number.  Call, and just ask to speak to Dante and say the password.  I’d love to do this again, if you want.  I know this place that makes some mouthwatering burgers…”

And with that, he walks off to his bike, hops on, and with a click of his tongue and a dashing smile, he pulls out with a squeal of tires into the night.

Only when he’s out of sight, do you read the card with trembling hands in the dim light of a nearby streetlamp.

Devil May Cry

And written hastily on the bottom, is a messy scrawl of words:

Password: It’s a date.

[nugnthopkns]

eyes full of stars

word count: 3.1k

warnings: insinuated!fem reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, slight sexual innuendo (kind sorta maybe, minors please be aware)

recommended listening: cowboy like me | taylor swift

a/n: it’s cold and snowy. to combat the winter blues i wrote about a sunny minnesota summer with brock :))

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Brock this carefree. 

The season was hard on him. There were large periods where he didn’t put up any points, and trade rumors started to circulate. Halfway through, before the playoff push even started, the negative social media comments came rolling in. You frequently saw fans request a trade or say that the organization should regret drafting him. Brock did his best to brush everything off, but it was beginning to waer on his mental health. You’re devastated when they fail to make it to the postseason, but you know it’s for the best. The injured team will spend the offseason recuperating and be ready for the next one. Besides, it means you and Brock will get to spend more time on the lake. 

So here you are, packing the car for the twenty-seven hour drive to Minnesota. Brock insists on driving, says it’s relaxing, but you aren’t sure you agree. Prone to car-sickness so fierce you can barely look out the window, you’d much rather fly. Everything is exasperated by the fact you’re a nervous traveller to begin with, afraid of taking a wrong turn or missing an exit. You’re a terrible road trip partner but at least Brock could talk to the dogs. Coolie and Milo loved car rides, and you can typically hear your boyfriend having full on conversations with them as you fade in and out of consciousness. 

“Ready to go babe?” Brock asks as he closes the trunk. The question is delivered with a bright grin, and despite your anxiety you return it with ease. 

“I don’t really have much of a choice do I?”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he moves towards you. Sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans he kisses you lazily. It’s comforting and all-consuming at the same time; doing a great job of occupying your mind with thoughts of him instead of the journey ahead. “I suppose not,” he says, planting a final kiss on your forehead. “It’ll be fine. You can take a Gravol right before we cross the border and you’ll be asleep before we hit Seattle.”

It’s the best plan of attack, so you agree immediately. After taking one last run into your shared apartment to use the bathroom and make sure everything is in order, you make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Brock’s jeep. Music filters through the speakers at a low volume, and you focus on the retreating skyline of Vancouver. You’re excited to get back to Minnesota, to relax and see your boyfriend in his natural habitat. Countless days are about to be spent lounging lakeside enjoying each other’s company. It will also be nice to spend time with Brock’s family: they’ve been incredibly welcoming over the years and you can’t wait to catch up with them. You know Brock’s itching to spend time with his nephew, and just to be at home. 

Just as Brock said, you’re asleep before Bellingham. It’s fitful, and you’re frequently woken up by the dogs barking a little too excitedly in response to something Brock said. However, it does a good job of keeping you from emptying the contents of your stomach onto the floor. Somewhere in Idaho, a good seven hours after you left Canada, you awake for the final time. 

“Look boys, Mom’s finally awake!”

You laugh at the comment and lean over the center console to ruffle his hair. It’s still long from the season, and curls slightly around your fingertips. 

“You’re hilarious.”

Brock takes his right hand off the steering wheel, unravelling yours from its resting place and entwining your fingers together. He places a kiss to the back of your palm. “You know I’m just teasing,” he whispers. “I know these drives are hard on you. Thank you for doing it twice a year.”

Instead of answering verbally, you squeeze his hand tighter. Though it’s true you hate driving through five states, you’d do it twice a week if it would make Brock happy. It seems a bit much to convey with a single gesture, but you can tell from the smile that graces his features that Brock understands. The two of you sit in silence, enjoying the scenery and trying to scout for a rest stop. Coolie and Milo are getting antsy and you’re also due to stretch your legs. 

After letting the dogs run around to release some energy and using the bathroom, you start the final leg of the day. Missoula, Montana, is the destination. Not quite the halfway point, but close enough that you could tackle the rest of the miles tomorrow, the city has a wide variety of pet-friendly lodging. You insist you drive the rest of the way, giving Brock a well deserved rest. Looking at the interstate for hours can cause serious highway hypnosis. Not even twenty minutes after getting back on the road he’s asleep, snoring softly as he rests his head on the window. 

You take a moment to admire your boyfriend. He looks so relaxed and peaceful, and the forehead creases that are starting to develop from over analyzing hours of tape disappear. Brock looks years younger, and you know the youthfulness will creep back into him the longer you’re in Minnesota. You can’t wait to see him without any cares again. 

Less than two hours later, the hotel creeps up on your left. Pulling into the first available parking space, you turn the car off before waking Brock. 

“Brock, we’re at the hotel,” you say softly, jostling his shoulder. “Let’s get checked in and then we shower.”

The mention of washing off a day’s worth of travel has him letting the door fly open. You had made sure to pack your overnight bags in an easily accessible spot, and work at getting them out while Brock wrangles the dogs. For being cooped up all day, they’re extremely well behaved. Once cleaned up you imagine you’ll take them on a long walk and grab some food. 

“Hey, give that back. Milo!” you hear Brock yelp, and peek around to see what’s happening. The younger pup has Brock’s bucket hat between his teeth and is in the process of tearing across the parking lot. 

With a giggle you call him back. “Milo, come here baby,” you say. Without a second thought, the dog bolts towards you, knocking against your shins when he fails to stop in time. You lean down to scratch Milo’s ear, and as soon as you ask him to drop the object he places it in your open palm. “Good boy,” you coo, letting him lick the side of your face. 

“He’s your dog alright,” Brock huffs from where he’s standing, Coolie running circles around his ankles. 

You toss the hat over the roof of the car as you laugh at him. “You’re just jealous he listens to me.”

“I sure fucking am. He’d be an absolute nuisance if it wasn’t for you.”

The rest of the night is spent unwinding from the long day. Dinner consists of the greasiest burgers you can find, and you roam around the city hand in hand, the dogs leading you. By the time you get back to the hotel you’re spent. Sleep takes over rather quickly, and you’re dozing off before Brock gets back from brushing his teeth. Once ready for bed, he slides his body against yours. The pair of you fit together like a puzzle, and after a quick kiss you let sleep consume you. 

The second day of travel is much the same, except you do a better job of staying awake. You take a different anti-nausea medication and frequently switch with Brock. Conversation flows easily, ideas for summer excursions and repairs that need to be done around the house. The Boeser’s are kind enough to lend you their lake house during the off season, but the property can be a lot to manage. Brock takes it all in stride, and somehow actually enjoys spending hours mowing the grass. He says it’s relaxing, mind numbing work, so you let him handle it. Country music flows from the car speakers, and eventually talking turns into a full on concert. Milo and Coolie do their best to harmonize with Brock, and it’s too cute not to post somewhere. You sneak your phone from your pocket and manage to catch some of it on video, posting to Instagram immediately. Those from the Canucks organization you have on social media will love it; Brock’s teammates will most definitely chirp him for being tone deaf. 

It’s late by the time you pull into the driveway of your temporary home, almost eleven. Grabbing only the essentials and leaving the rest to be unpacked tomorrow, you unlock the door before flopping on the couch. The dogs follow suit, laying on top of you. When Brock walks in he shakes his head, but still leans over to kiss you. 

“Make sure you text your mom and let her know we made it,” you call to his retreating figure. “And let her know we’ll be over in the afternoon once we get situated.”

You swear he flips you off, no doubt poking fun at your maternal instincts. “Yes ma’am,” he replies. 

“Ma’am?” you shriek. “I am not fifty. You’re so gonna get it Boeser.”

After gently nudging the dogs off your legs you’re chasing after him, laughing all the way. Brock’s a lot faster than you, being the athlete he is, but you don’t give up hope. In a last ditch attempt to get him back, you launch yourself forward, square into the middle of his back. The change in weight distribution has him falling to the floor, sprawling the width of the hallway. Both of you are giggling messes, delirious from lack of sleep and the knowledge you get to spend four months of uninterrupted time together. 

“I love you, you know that right,” Brock murmurs into the crook of your neck. He dots chaste pecks along the skin and you sigh at the feeling. 

Pulling him closer, you make sure to properly enunciate your words as you respond. “Yes sir.”

Brock eyes darken visibly, and he shifts his body so he’s resting on top of you. “You’re in for it now,” he groans, dragging himself to his feet. You quickly follow, meeting his lips in an eager kiss. The pair of you stumble the rest of the way to the bedroom, bodies intertwining like ivy vines, and Brock makes sure to kick the door shut to ensure your pets don’t interrupt the salacious activities he has planned. 

☼☼☼☼

You settle into a routine fairly quickly. Mornings are spent alone while Brock works out, and afternoons are for lounging in the sun. The hours after the sun fades away are spent huddling around a bonfire with friends, and midnights are for just the two of you. Sometimes Brock lets himself rest and spends the day in the middle of the lake doing his best to fish, leaving you to spend time with his mom and sister. They’re lovely; warm and welcoming, making sure you’re never too lonely or bored. You and Brock also spend a lot of time with his nephew, doting over the toddler. Seeing your boyfriend with him makes you want kids, but that’s a conversation that is yet to be had in any serious light. 

Sometimes you join Brock when he does typical professional hockey player in the summer things. It turns out you're quite the golfer, and have put him to shame many times. Countless days are spent helping him fix the roof of the lake house because he insists on doing it himself even though he knows nothing about roofing. At least seven phone calls to his father and a desperate run to the hardware store later, it’s completed; sealed and free of cracks. Though you’re a terrible fisher, Brock tries his best to teach you. Truth be told, you don’t have any interest in the sport, but his tongue pokes out slightly when he’s thinking about how to explain a concept and you think it’s adorable. 

Coolie and Milo are loving being able to roam free, and you both spend a lot of time outside with them. You’re only ever really in the house at night, reading or playing games on the patio furniture Brock’s mom picked out. It’s peaceful; existing like this. You swear you could do it forever. 

Being home allows an invisible weight to be lifted off Brock’s shoulders. There’s a pep in his step, and he’s always smiling. Even the intense at-home workouts can’t seem to bring him down. You’re delighted, how could you not be? It’s as if the only things that matter to him are enjoying a few beers lakeside and coaxing you out of shorts in the dark. You suppose that’s the truth. 

☼☼☼☼

It’s incredibly warm out. The sun beats down on your back as you turn the pages of your novel, half listening to the conversation Brock is having with his friends. A group of you are on the boat, enjoying one of the last full days of summer. Later in the week you and Brock will pack up the car again, making the long trek back to Vancouver. You’re sad time has passed so fast, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to be back in the city. It’s your home, and the boys seem to be really fired up for the new season. You have a feeling some really good hockey is going to come out of Rogers Arena. 

“Yo Y/N, who’s the better driver. Me or Boes?” 

The question pulls you from the fantasy taking place on the pages, and you look to see who’s speaking to you. It’s Brock’s dearest childhood friend, someone you consider family at this point. “It’s absolutely not Brock,” you shrug. The comment earns a loud laugh from everyone and you find yourself joining in. 

“Ouch babe, that hurts,” Brock says as he slides into the free space next to you. Casually wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder, he leans down to whisper into your ear. “Looks like you need to be taught a lesson.”

His words have a vaguely sexual connotation, and you look around nervously. Your swimsuit won’t cover the flush that will be sure to rise on your skin if Brock tries anything. Everyone seems to be engaged in their own conversations, but you still feel queasy about getting caught. Though Brock’s friends are the type to laugh it off, you’d be absolutely mortified. 

Before your brain can overthink anything else, you’re being lifted from your seat. It only takes two seconds for Brock to hoist you over the side of the boat and throw you into the cool water. You land with a glorious splash, but take your time coming to the surface. Partly to bring your temperature down, partly to make your lover squirm. 

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you yell to him from below, but the bright smile you flash him lets Brock know you don’t mean it. 

He sets his hat on top of your book before climbing over the edge. “Shut up,” he fires back, diving gracefully to join you in the water. 

A small splashing match breaks out, and soon everyone else is in the water, picking sides. You swim until your skin is wrinkled beyond recognition, pruned and puckered something akin to a raisin. Only once the sky begins to redden do you head for home. Brock keeps the boat at cruising speed, and you sit comfortably in his lap. Once back on land, dinner is quickly thrown together. A mish-mash of what’s left in your fridge and what others have brought, but it works. The boys huddle around the grill and everyone else swoons over the dogs, who are on their best behaviour. 

Later in the night, once the dishes are cleaned up and some guests with day jobs have left, you settle into Brock’s side at the fire. Not caring if you get chirped for the PDA, you hold his face in both your hands and rest your forehead against his. The scruff that’s grown in since the last time Brock shaved tickles slightly, but you’re too in love with him to care. It’s been so refreshing to see him relaxed, acting without a care in the world. Hopefully the attitude he currently has will stick and not disappear once you hit the Vancouver city limits. 

Brock takes a sip of his beer before offering the bottle to you. You gingerly place it to your lips, making a face at the taste. He laughs at your reaction, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

“Still tastes disgusting,” you mutter, reaching for your own drink to wash away the taste. 

The fire crackles gently behind you but you barely register the sound, in your own little world where everything is perfect. It’s you, Brock, and the dogs living in a house similar to the one you’re currently residing in, living life to the fullest. 

“You gonna come back to me, space cadet?” Brock chuckles, tracing the outline of your nose. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you apologize. “Was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Us. The future. Living in a lake house just like this one and spending all our time being so in love with each other that our friends constantly make fun of us. Maybe having kids in a couple of years. How I love seeing you like this; so at peace and full of life.”

In lieu of a response, Brock kisses you passionately. It’s a soft kind of passion: one that holds you tenderly and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. He tastes like the Coors Light he’s been drinking, but somehow the idea of beer is much more appealing when mixed with Brock. You lose yourself in him for a while, relishing in the gentleness of his hands resting on your waist. Eventually you return some of your attention to the others, but even then you can’t find it in yourself to focus. Your mind is filled with nothing but love for Brock. 

It’s seems that he’s feeling the same way, because he continually leaves kisses across your shoulder blade. “I really, really love you,” Brock confesses, and you feel him smile through the thin material of your worn hoodie. 

You intertwine your pinky with his and let them sit comfortably in your lap. “I love too. So much that it’s all consuming.”

Brock often leaves you breathless in more ways than one, but sweet sentiments like this will always take the cake. Especially when they happen on summer nights where he’s free to be his authentic self.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[peach-pops]

may i perhaps request a continuation of the suga, noya and kags hqs of them meeting ukais niece? like when they start datin and ukai catches them smoochin or just being gross🤢 and kinda stands there like 👁👄👁 if u dont want to just ignore this

Sorry this took sooooo long! This doesn’t have to be a continuation from the first one but if you guys want to check it out, it’s here!

Kageyama, Suga, and Noya Get Caught By Ukai

Kageyama 

Kageyama is not a fan of PDA and you may quote me on that

He can MAYBE handle hand holding underneath a table and if he’s feeling a bit bold, a quick kiss on the cheek in the hallways is a possibility only if no one is looking 

He wasn’t embarrassed of you but lets be real, he is always at practice or some volleyball event and it would be pretty awkward for him to start kissing his girlfriend when his coach, and also your uncle, is only a few feet away 

Your schedule was pretty jam-packed and that meant it was really hard for you to go to his games especially since Ukai expected you to run the store when he was off with the Karasuno boys

This meant that you hardly ever got to see Kageyama play but a part of him didn’t mind because that took less pressure off of him

Ohhhh boy but then the day came where you were able to go watch a game and of course, it had to be the most important one of the season. Shiratorizawa vs Karasuno 

That day, Kageyama was a complete mess for a number of reasons but to know that you were going to be at his game terrified him 

The game was intense and you were standing the whole time because you couldn’t bring your nerves down at all no matter how hard Saeko and Akiteru tried, you were a nervous wreck 

Wait this is separate from the hc but can we pls talk about HOW FUCKING HOT TSUKI’S OLDER BROTHER IS ??? 

Sorry anyway

To think that the first volleyball game you were seeing was the one to dictate whether or not your boyfriends team made it to nationals was insane but you had so much faith in the team that they would pull it off

You couldn’t even move when Karasuno won the last point. Hell, you even forgot to breath for a second but once you saw the team celebrate together on the court, you felt so proud because they really did the impossible

You shout for Kageyama and when he looks up to see you standing up in the bleachers, he has the BIGGEST smile on his face because holy shit THEY WERE GOING TO NATIONALS!!!!

HE’S CHEESIN SO HARD uwu

After the awards, you wait for Karasuno at the gymdoors and when Kageyama sees you, He runs over to you and literally sweeps you off your feet 

Kageyama doesn’t know if it’s from the adrenaline of the win or the absent nerves but all he wants to do is kiss you

So he does AHHHHH IN FRONT OF ALL HIS TEAMMATES

Tanaka and Noya are screaming their heads off their so proud !!! Suga is obviously shielding Hinata’s eyes 

He kisses you so hard as if it would be his last and it catches you off guard because um hello??? Who is this man kissing you?? 

this was the same Kageyama that gave you head pats instead of kisses when he was around his friends and now he’s kissing you as if his life depends on it

But you’re not complaining you’re a bit too busy at the moment trying to enjoy the moment

All he can think about is you; any other sound around him is completely muffled but once the two of you pull away for air, his smile drops so quickly and he almost drops you to the floor 

“ Tobio? What’s wrong-” You turn to look over to where he’s staring and your heart drops when you see your Uncle Ukai with his arms crossed

Kageyama stops breathing and he literally turns white cause he’s TERRIFIED AND SO EMBARRASSED 

Ukai is kinda weirded out more than anything because first off, he didn’t even think Kageyama showed any emotion besides anger or disinterest and second, he’s always known to be the ‘cool uncle’ 

Like should he really be yelling??? They’re just kids??? He did a lot worst stuff at his age-

“ It’s not what it looks-”

“ I think I’m just gonna…” Ukai kinda points off to the side and awkwardly steps around the two of you because he rather not think about his student and his niece kissing 

so he kinda gives Kageyama a pass? Not because it’s Kageyama you’re dating but just because emotions are so high and it’s like eh okay??

If anything, it would just be kinda awkward between Ukai and Kageyama during practice/school like just lil nods like “ okay I guess you’re dating my niece” and “ okay I guess I’m dating you’re niece”

Sugawara

Suga is just so sweet let me put that out there because it must be known

You two had only been dating for a short time but you both were already so comfortable with each other

He knows you work late some days at Ukai’s store so he always stops by after practice to check up on you and makes sure you ate dinner and that you were caught up with your homework

Tonight was no different as Suga walks in and sees you behind the register trying your best not to fall asleep

“ Ukai isn’t here?” 

“ Nope, he texted me and said he was going to stop by the house before coming over with dinner. I wish he would hurry up. I’m about to pass out” You yawned as Suga greeted you with a kiss on the cheek as you kicked over a stool so he could sit on the opposite side of the counter,” how was practice?”

“ Kageyama and Hinata got into it again during practice so you know, the usual. I missed you a lot today though, I feel like I hardly ever get to see you.” 

*Cue sad puppy dog Suga*

You two weren’t the type of couple to always be attached at the hip. You had your own things to do and so did he but that didn’t stop you both from missing each other

“ I know Koshi but at least you’re here now.”

You had a point, he cherished any time that the two of had together, even if it was only for a few minutes and now that he was with you, he could show you how much he missed you

Suga got rid of his pouty face and leaned over the counter to kiss you but this time, it was way different than any kiss the two of you shared before. His lips were so warm and you practically melted into him because you two hadn’t had time alone in a quick minute

Ukai was on his phone as he stepped into the store but when he looked up to see his niece smooching with one of his students, he was so freaked out he just shouted

“ WHA-HEY! NO KISSING WHILE WORKING!” 

You pushed Suga off of you but the force of your push sent you falling backwards in your chair and you landed on the ground with a thud

You groaned and held your head as Ukai and Suga peeked over the counter to make sure you were still alive,” Wah! You said you weren’t coming to the shop until later!” 

“ Change of plans, my Uncle senses were going crazy and I’m glad I listened to them! What if a customer walked in and saw two hormonal teenagers going at it?”

“ AIYA alright!” You shouted, feeling more embarrassed than before as you got off the floor. 

Suga was lowkey panicking cause he wasn’t even sure what to say. How could he even ease the tension between his girlfriend and coach ???? 

“ I uhm-” Suga started as Ukai looked over at him,” I’m sorry Ukai-san! I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N!” 

Suga bows respectfully as you and Ukai watch him leave the store. Once he’s gone, Ukai only laughs and grabs an apron from the hook. 

“ Why are you laughing? You basically traumatized him!” 

“ A little fear never hurt anybody but good job, you managed to pick a decent guy for once,” You uncle teased as he patted your head and started to sweep the store

Ukai was definitely protective of who you dated and he had a suspicion that you were going out with someone but now that he knew it was Suga out of all people, he wasn’t worried at all 

Of course, he could never say that outloud because again, fear keeps guys in check 

Nishinoya 

Oh god okay 

You live with your uncle Ukai because your parents always traveled a lot for work and since Ukai is literally the coolest uncle in the world, you liked living with him

He would’ve let you live with him anyway but because you offered to help him out at the store, it kinda stuck and that’s how you got into helping him out

Noya and you had been dating for a while now and while Ukai knew the two of you were together, he never really brought it up because a big part of him didn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that his niece was with someone as crazy as Noya

But again, if you and Ukai didn’t bring it up then that’s just the way it is

You and Noya were always pretty busy and since you barely saw each other during the day, you would sneak Noya into your room late at night just to makeout cuddle whatever

And just like any other day, you opened up your bedroom window as Noya carefully climbed in, being extra careful not to make any noise

Now you two hadn’t spent quality time with each other in sooooo long and again, two hormonal teenagers that are touch starved is bound to happen. This is basically a long-winded way to say that it was obvious you two would makeout

No matter how heated the makeout sessions would get, that’s all they would ever be because you two both wanted to wait before taking it to the next level 

99% of the time Noya would take off his shirt and today was no different. Your hands were tugging at his hair as his body hovered over yours as your lips moved against each other

Even in the dark, he always told you how pretty you were cause he’s a goob and you would just smile and get back to kissing him 

Noya inhaled deeply because this is what pure bliss felt like and he couldn’t be happier being so close to you

“ Hey Y/N, tomorrow I need-” Ukai barged right in and turned the lights on as his eyes landed straight on a shirtless Noya on top of you 

“ WHAT THE HELL-”

You screamed as Noya rolled off of you and was frantically trying to find his shirt while avoiding eye contact with Ukai

Through all of the panic, Ukai looked down and saw the shirt on the floor. He just picked it up and threw it at Noya’s head,” Get dressed, and both of you see me downstairs.” 

Noya gulped because he knew he was going to get his ass beat and even when Ukai left your room, Noya turned to you with sad eyes

“ If I don’t make it back alive, I want you to know how much I love you. Tell Tanaka I’m sorry.”

“ Yu, I think you’re being dramatic…”

The whole time you and Noya were panicking, Ukai was losing his mind because he knew what he had to talk about with you and he reallyyyyyy wasn’t ready for it 

Once you two made it downstairs, you both sat down on opposite sides of the couch 

Ukai might’ve looked pissed on the outside, and he was, but he was just so uncomfortable. He didn’t know if it was really his place to bring the birds and the bees but as the adult in the room, it was now his responsibility. 

“ You guys realize I have to give you the talk now right?”

“ Uncle Ukai please-”

“ You brought this upon yourself.”