#at least that lasted longer than those cute cat mugs

[poomphuripan]

Ming, come here. Come help me. Ming. Alright.

MY STAND-IN (2024) | 1.03

[seijorhi]

nostos.

well it’s not exactly monster fucking but um... here there be monsters.

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader

TW implied non-con, nsfw-ish, blood, gore, minor character death, animal death, um somebody gets munched... 

Every good writer needs peace and quiet. Fresh air and a change of scenery.

You’re not running away, it’s more of a… tactical retreat. Two weeks disconnected from well meaning friends, pushy family members and your eternally irritating editor, with nothing but the beautiful, sprawling forests to keep you company.

The mountains are familiar, if isolating, you think, leaning against the porch railing with a warm mug in hand as the breeze picks up and the tall maple and birch trees rustle in response. The leaves are turning vibrant reds and gold with the falling temperatures and even in the eerie quiet of the cold morning, you can’t deny that it’s breathtaking. 

It reminds you of your childhood, the countless vacations you’d spent here with your family, always in autumn, always in time to watch the leaves change before the first snows of winter set in. Fond memories of running through the trees chasing after cute little bunnies, giggling even when you tripped up and scraped your knees. There was something mystical about the forest back then, something special. But it’s been years since you’ve been here last, and the first time you’ve ever come alone.

And yet it feels different somehow, colder despite the nostalgia. You’re no longer a child, looking at the world through innocent, wondrous eyes. The forest is just a forest. 

Of course, you weren’t an idiot; disappearing off the grid was one thing. Disappearing off the grid without anybody knowing where you were going was another entirely. They’d been surprisingly supportive of the plan – until you told them where it was you were planning on running off to.

‘Why go back to the mountain, honey?’ your mother had asked, her smile wavering and an odd tightness in her eyes. ‘Why not go to the coast instead? Or spend some time in the city?’

But this isn’t a fun little vacation. You don’t want to be distracted by beaches and crowds, you need space to finish your book and time to work through your mess of an emotional state without any interruptions. You want to be untraceable, at least for a week or two.

God knows the last thing you need right now is your ex tracking you down to try and apologise again.

Part of you had thought – somewhat naively, perhaps – that by coming back you’d spark… something. Your memories of the mountains are full of warmth and happiness, but as you stare out into the wilderness, all you feel is a cool chill that runs down your spine and the goosebumps that prickle at your skin. 

Setting your now empty mug down, you pull tighter at the thick knit cardigan draped over your shoulders. Enough reminiscing, your manuscript awaits.

—

The mountain’s too quiet. You don’t notice it so much during the day, the sound of music softly pouring from your laptop and the gentle clacking of keys as you type enough to distract you  from the eerie stillness outside the cabin. Even at night, you’re preoccupied with dinner, and then curled up on the couch with a warm throw rug watching reruns of your favourite shows on Netflix.

It’s only when you lie down, burrowed into the blankets to try and sleep that you notice just how silent the forest at your doorstep truly is. At first you think it’s simply being away from the hustle and bustle of home. There’s no cars driving past, or the sound of neighbours floating through your open windows, there’s not even the distant hooting of owls or dogs barking.

But it’s more than just quiet. There’s nothing. Even the trees seem to still once the sun falls beneath the horizon. And it shouldn't bother you, shouldn’t unsettle you, and yet…

The first few nights, you don’t sleep well. Tossing and turning in bed. When you do sleep, your dreams are plagued with unpleasant things. Not nightmares as such, but an uneasiness that bleeds into otherwise pleasant thoughts. On the fourth night you wake, gasping for air. Whatever dream you’d been in the grips of fades like smoke, and as you draw in another shuddering breath your throat itches and burns.

Water. You need water. 

You don’t switch on the lights as you fumble your way down to the kitchen, trying to preserve what little remnants of sleep are still in your system. Even with the moon almost full and the night sky clear, the canopy shrouds it. 

And it’s in that darkness, as your eyes flicker up from the faucet, that you see it for the first time.

A shape, huge and looming, silk shadow against black. 

For a moment, as your heart hammers against your ribs, a chill creeping down your spine, you don’t dare trust your eyes. Maybe you’re asleep still, dreaming, or your mind’s playing tricks on you, because there’s nothing that should be lurking in the woods outside of your window that size.

Two golden, cat-like eyes peer back at you.

They’re still there when you race to flick on the lights, unblinking, curious as you skitter backwards, hand over your racing heart.

You’re tired, emotionally drained and this–

This is nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination, a child creating monsters from the shadows in their bedroom. Yet even as you run back to the safety of the bedroom, yank the curtains shut and huddle under the meagre warmth your blankets afford you, squeezing your eyes shut, you feel it out there still, watching.

And in the stillness of the mountains outside, you swear you hear footsteps.

—

You wake to fresh snow, too early in the year, even at these altitudes. It dusts the ground, covering the mossy paths in glittering white, clings to the branches of the trees – the red leaves looking like droplets of blood scattered across a grey sky. The snow will undoubtedly melt as the sun rises, turn to slush and mix with the dirt, but for now it’s a thing of beauty.

For a moment, you allow yourself to forget how tired you are, how unsettled, venturing out from the cabin with wide, excitable eyes. It never used to snow when you were here as a kid, and while you get the occasional snowfall back home, it’s nothing like–

You stop dead in your tracks. 

There’s two human footprints imprinted on the snow – only two – right outside your bedroom window, crisp and clean, as if they’d been left just moments before.

—

Your mother sounds worried when you call her. Of course, you don’t tell her about the lone footprints at your window, or the creepy pair of eyes you’d seen through the dark, you know how that sounds. You’re not crazy, and even if some part of you truly believed what you’d seen, your mom is the last person you’d admit it to.

Once upon a time, when you were little, she’d indulged in stories of fairies and spirits, but that was a long time ago. Now she turns up her nose and sneers at the myths and legends that your grandma still spouts, dismissing them with a scoff.

It’s not the kind of thing well-adjusted adults talk about in polite conversation.

She’s a good woman, but you can’t tell her this. 

And you’re not even sure you’re entirely sold on it either. The eyes could have been from a wild animal – big cats might be rare in Japan, but they do exist here. You were half asleep (half terrified) when you had seen them, you don’t want to make a fuss over nothing. The footprints are less easy to explain away. If there’d been tracks leading away, you could convince yourself that it was a lost hiker and nothing more.

But there weren’t any tracks leading away; just the two footprints. And what kind of hiker doesn’t wear shoes in weather like this? It’s possible that this is some kind of prank, a mean spirited trick designed to unsettle you – a job well done, by the way – but you can’t quite bring yourself to believe that either. 

In any case, you’re hardly going to admit over the phone that you’re freaking out over some footprints in the snow. God knows she’s already worried enough about your mental state, has been ever since the breakup, and you’re not going to give her any more ammunition. 

But perhaps there is something to that maternal instinct, because despite your best efforts to reassure her that you’re doing just fine, that your novel’s going great and you’re so glad you came out here, she still sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Honey, you know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” she tells you, her voice strangely hesitant. “You don’t sound yourself, are you sure everything’s okay?”

You don’t know why you called her at all. You always have been a shitty liar, and she’s always been able to see right through you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Honestly the fresh air’s doing me good,” you tell her. “It’s weirdly quiet here though, I’m not used to it,” you laugh, and even to your ears it sounds hollow and fake.

There’s a heavy pause on the other end of the line, and if you close your eyes you can almost picture it, your mom leaning against the kitchen counter, teeth worrying into her bottom lip–

“I just don’t like you out there all by yourself.”

Relax, what’s the worst that could happen?

The words almost, almost slip out, an instinctive reaction to a mother’s well meaning but overbearing concern. But it feels like tempting fate, and whether or not you’re fully convinced that there is something strange happening, you’re not that bold. Instead you begin to tell her (again) that everything’s fine when she suddenly speaks again.

“Bad things happen in those mountains. Just… just promise me you’ll be safe.”

Abruptly, the line goes dead. 

Pulling the phone from your ear, you glance down at the illuminated screen, only to frown when you see the little ‘SOS Only’ flashing in the top corner. Huh, you’d had a few bars when you’d started the call, but… 

The weather’s gotta be messing with your signal. Stranger things have happened, right?

Shaking your head you resolve to give her a call tomorrow. And yet, even as you try to put her parting words from your mind and throw yourself back into your writing, you can’t help but feel that familiar sense of cloying unease seeping through your skin once more. 

What the hell had she meant, ‘bad things happen in those mountains’?

—

A good night’s sleep can do you wonders. 

Well, theoretically speaking. You can’t remember the last actual decent sleep you’d had, but regardless, the point stands. All you need is an uninterrupted eight or nine hours, and this… paranoia will go away. Things’ll be clearer in the morning, so long as you sleep.

The mantra doesn’t help you any, of course. 

You don’t need to peer through the window to feel those watchful eyes staring. And maybe it would be easier to ignore the prickling sensation at the nape of your neck if it weren’t for the noises.

Music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the mournful wails, like a wounded animal crying out in pain. It’s incessant, inescapable, reverberating inside of your eardrums until it’s all you can focus on.

It’s instinctual, you think, the urge to creep from your bed and try to find the creature making that sound and help it. But even as your feet touch the cool floorboards, your gut clenches, hackles rising. Something deep inside of you warns you from leaving the safety of the cabin.

Whatever creature is making those noises, it’s not calling for help.

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but you must have because at a certain point in the morning you blink your eyes awake, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.

And this time it’s not snow that greets you, but the mangled remains of a doe ripped apart on your porch. Deep, jagged gouge marks run along its flank, organs spilling from the cuts and there’s little left of its neck, the whole thing torn out with teeth. Yet for the gruesome injuries, the only blood you find is congealed, pooled beneath the poor creature.

Whatever happened to it, it didn’t happen here. The knowledge doesn’t soothe you like it should – the park ranger you spoke to on the phone mentioned that while it’s rare, sometimes bears venture a little too close to buildings, though he sounds doubtful even as he says it.

He sounds even less interested when you tell him this doesn’t look like a bear attack, but promises they’ll send someone down in the next few days to check everything out. In the meantime, he suggests, it’s best to stay indoors. 

Yeah, not gonna be an issue.

And so with no feasible way of moving it, you’re left with the butchered corpse of a doe just outside your front door. And the thing that bothers you isn’t so much the body, though you still can’t look at it without wanting to throw up, but the fact that it was just… left there.

Not eaten. No, aside from the missing throat, the deer’s all there. Ripped apart with its guts spilling out, but otherwise untouched. Growing up you had a cat, the sweetest little thing, but every once in a while she would get out of a night, find some poor little creature to torment and without fail, she’d bring it back home, leaving it half dead on the doorstep like a gift.

‘See what a good hunter I am?’ she seemed to say, smugly sauntering back inside. 

It wasn’t about food. It wasn’t hunger that drove her, but instinct. As you stare out the window at the doe, at the milky white emptiness of dead eyes, you wonder whether that’s the same here. There’s no tracks in the dirt, no blood smeared across the ground – it wasn’t dragged here. No animal could’ve done this. 

A gift? 

Or perhaps something less benevolent. A threat. You’ve crossed into territory you don’t belong and the deer, cruelly ripped apart and left to bleed out on your doorstep is a line in the sand.

Either way, as tears fill your eyes, a sob tugging free from your chest, you realise that it was a mistake to come here. You don’t know whether you trust your eyes and your ears anymore, but there is something deep inside of you that tolls like a warning bell and as much as you’d like to bury your head in the sand and pretend there’s nothing wrong here, you can’t.

Bad things happen in those mountains.

You need to leave.

The next ferry to the mainland doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, but it’ll have to do. Once you stop shaking and calm down enough to carry a conversation, you call the local cab company to arrange a pick-up first thing.

You can survive one more night, you just need to throw yourself back into your writing… if you can only just ignore that sense of foreboding prickling at the back of your neck.

—

There’s a boy running through the trees, giggling as he glances back at you. His hand’s outstretched, wrapped ‘round yours tugging you along as he laughs at you to hurry up.

It’s late, the sun dipping below the horizon, but you don’t wanna go back just yet.

You’re having fun, playing in the forest. And the light is golden, filtering in through the pretty red leaves, your sides burn a little from all the chasing and laughter but it’s a good kind of ache. You don’t want today to end.

His name is Kohsuke, you remember, and he lives down in the village by the valley. He’s only one year older than you, and you’d follow him anywhere. 

You think you might be a little in love with him.

‘C’mon, hurry up! It’s only a little further!’ he calls, and you nod, scrambling over the fallen trunk of an oak tree. There’s old spirits who live in this forest, he’d told you, and today you’re finally gonna see one.

It’s dark now. Cold too. You’re tired and hungry and you kinda want to go home, but Kohsuke won’t let you. ‘Just a little longer! Don’t you wanna see them?’

You do. Of course you do. It’s just that you’re starting to get a funny feeling in your stomach… Can he hear the footsteps too? Is somebody following you?

There’s a voice in your ear, a soft, silky purr that makes a shiver roll down your spine, but you can’t make sense of the words, they’re not in any language you understand. You don’t tell Kohsuke – he can’t hear it, otherwise he would have said something. You just clutch his hand tighter, skipping closer.

‘W-we should go back, Koh,’ you murmur, wincing when it comes out in a childish whine. ‘We’re gonna get in trouble.’

You aren’t supposed to stay out playing after dark, he knows it as well as you do. ‘You trust me, don’t you? Stop being such a chicken!’ he snickers as your cheeks heat.

The voice at your ear growls, low and threatening. You need to go back, now.

You blink, and the scene changes.

You’re curled up on the forest floor, hands covering your eyes. Somebody’s screaming – Kohsuke – crying out your name through ragged sobs, pleading–

There’s a crunch, a ripping sound, a wetness sprayed across your cheek. 

Kohsuke’s not screaming anymore.

Something warm and heavy touches your head, drags through the locks of your hair and you just huddle tighter, eyes squeezed shut, shaking like a leaf as more tears spill. You don’t wanna die here. 

The crunching sounds continue, and you keep your eyes tightly shut. It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t–

A loud knocking jerks you back to consciousness, your body jolting upright, almost swiping your laptop off the table as you try and gather your bearings. Right, you’d been working on your novel, sitting up at the kitchen table, you must have dozed off… A quick glance out the window tells you that you must have been out of it for a while – the late afternoon shadows are starting to creep in, the sky a golden orange. 

What the hell was that dream?!

“Hello? Uh, anybody home?” a masculine voice calls, another loud knock sounding. “We got a call about a wild animal attacking deer…”

Oh, you think, trying to shake yourself out of your stupor, the wildlife people, yeah. You feel a little nauseous, feverish and trembling, though maybe that’s just the result of your erratic heartbeat. 

Swallowing down the bile in your throat, you turn your attention to the door. Truly you hadn’t actually expected that they’d send anybody out to investigate, much less that they’d arrive before you left, but you can hardly turn him away now.

Especially not when there’s a freshly butchered deer corpse lying only a few feet away from your front door. Quickly, you run a hand over your hair, taking a moment to try and collect yourself before you answer.

It doesn’t work – there’s a knot in your throat and for every step you take towards the door it feels like your legs are gonna give out from under you. You move in a daze to unlock the door, only just remembering to school your features into an expression slightly less alarming as it swings open. 

A ranger, tall with a shock of black, messy hair that reminds you oddly of a rooster greets you with an easy grin. “Oh good, I was starting to think nobody was home. You the one that called?”

Distantly, you nod, fingers clutching at the edge of the doorframe. The ranger glances over at the remains of the deer, still lying in a pool of half dried blood, studying it for a moment, hazel eyes sweeping over the deep gashes in its side. You can’t bear to follow his gaze, you’re not sure you can look at that thing again without throwing up. 

He whistles lowly, shaking his head, “Well you don’t see that every day,” he laughs.

Your eyes snap to his, narrowing slightly. It’s not his fault, you know that, but you can’t help the flicker of irritation that sparks at the cavalier attitude. This is just his job, you get it, but you don’t exactly feel like laughing right now. 

“You still think a bear did this?” you retort, the words coming out a little sharper than intended. 

But the ranger takes it in stride, shrugging as his smirk widens. “A bear, huh?” Amusement glitters in his eyes, sharp and mocking. “Why don’t I come inside and you can tell me all about it?” he offers, stepping closer towards you. 

And there’s no reason for your heart to skitter, your blood running cold as he looms over you in the doorway, still wearing that stupid, irritating smirk. There’s no reason for your insides to clench either, or for the tiny, jerky step backwards you take, your body moving of its own accord.

The ranger pauses, head tilting to the side as he stares at you.

Really stares, like he’s waiting for something. And as discomfited as you are (and as much of an asshole as this guy is), a weary apology is halfway to your tongue when he shifts slightly, propping an arm up against the door – the last, dying rays of light catching his face. 

It’s just for a second.

A heartbeat.

But long enough for you to watch those hazel eyes shift to gold, pupils elongating into slits. 

You stumble backwards, breath coming in a short, ragged gasp as your eyes widen into saucers. “What are you?”

The ranger before you chuckles and you catch a glimpse of his teeth; pearly white and glinting, sharper than they had been only moments ago. “Why don’t you let me in and find out for yourself, kitten?”

You shake your head, retreating further into the cabin, heart pounding. 

“No? You don’t like this body, is that it?” he asks, a cruel edge to his smirk as he takes a half step backwards and slowly spreads his arms. “Something more familiar, then.”

And you don’t think there’s any room left in your heart for more fear, your stomach already twisting in sickening knots, but you blink and standing right there in front of you is Kohsuke.

It’s a punch in the guts, a knife slipped between your ribs, yanked ruthlessly through your still beating heart. He’s beaming up at you, those same adorable dimples, the same ridiculous bowl cut, bleeding youthful innocence. “How about now?” he asks, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers like he expects you to take it. “You’ll let me inside now, right?”

A strangled noise escapes you as you fall to your knees. Tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision – you blink them away but more take their place. 

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks, and you wail in response.

It’s too much. You shake your head, hugging yourself tightly, as if your arms are the only thing keeping you from falling apart entirely. 

He calls your name – not in Kohsuke’s childish lilt, but that deep, ancient purr that makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me in.”

“Go away,” you gasp through tears. “Please– please go away.”

The creature shifts again, the dark haired ranger back in Kohsuke’s place. He eyes you, those unnatural gold irises watching with utter enthralment as you sob pathetically on the floor, still pleading – though you know it’ll do you no good – for him to leave. 

“Last chance, kitten. Let me in, or I’ll make you come out.”

He – it – doesn’t sound nearly as put out by the prospect as it should be. 

And you don’t know why giving permission matters, all you know, all you care about, is that it’s keeping that thing at bay for now. It can’t come inside and so long as you don’t leave the safety of the cabin, it can’t hurt you. The words are nothing but an empty threat.

Right?

You shake your head, defiant even as your voice hitches and trembles, “No.”

“Stubborn little thing,” the creature croons, the smirk on its face widening until the visage no longer resembles anything human – mouth splitting its face in two, rows of long, sharp teeth revealed. “So be it.”

A low growl resonates in its chest, and you can only watch, petrified, as thin, vein-like black marks begin to appear over pale skin, growing thicker, cracking as shadow curls from underneath. The creature itself starts to grow too, limbs elongating as muscles ripple and swell, claws bursting forth in place of fingernails, shoulders broadening – until it’s towering over you, wreathed in thick shadow, grinning with that terrifying mouth. 

This is the thing you’d glimpsed that first night. A creature ripped from nightmares and primal fears, strong enough to tear you apart with a single hand. That’s what it’d done to Kohsuke, to the doe, what it’d do to you if you gave it half a chance.

“You wanna play, kitten?” it asks, head tilting to the side. 

Slowly, it backs away from the door, keeping its gaze fixed firmly on you. For a moment, you think that it’s going to disappear back into the forest, or plant itself by your window to watch for another night, waiting you out till dawn, but instead it stops by the old oak that overhangs the porch and stills entirely, simply… waiting.

“Let’s play.”

Abruptly, the oak beside it bursts into flames. It takes only a heartbeat for the entire thing to be engulfed, red and orange flames licking along the trunk, the gnarled, spindly branches, even the leaves are alight, burning away into ash and floating off in the breeze. The heat from one tree alone is searing, the crackle of burning wood and your own horrified, shuddering breath the only sounds in the night.

It snowed only a few nights before, but the fire spreads with unnatural ease, flames racing across the canopy, embers lighting up the undergrowth, and in the space of a few seconds there’s an inferno raging through the forest before you. And through the smoke and the red, burning haze, the creature watches, smirking.

The heat from the wildfire sears painfully at your skin, the air around you suddenly thick with smoke, stinging your eyes, choking your lungs, and yet you can’t seem to tear yourself away. It’s like a dream, a nightmare, some kind of… hellscape.

And for a moment you forget that there was a purpose to this, too lost staring in mute horror as the forest you’d played in as a child burns–

At least until a single leaf from the oak tree, edges curling as it’s consumed by flames, falls, carried by the breeze and lands on the wooden railing of the porch. With a soft whoosh, the old wooden beam catches fire, and with your chest heaving, panicked breaths falling from parted lips, you rise to your feet as flames spread, the fire eating everything in its path until the entire porch is alight, burning.

Run. 

You don’t know if the voice in your head is yours or not, you don’t have time to care. You scramble for the back door, throwing it open, and you run.

Run until your lungs burn, til’ your bare feet are scratched and bleeding, run, pushed forward by the sweltering heat at your back, the chilling crackle of laughter that follows. You run through tears, through pain and air so thick with smoke that it hurts to breathe.

And you know the creature’s giving chase, you know that you won’t – can’t – outrun it, nor the inferno that blazes around you. You know that it’s futile, that you’re probably running to your death, but that’s human, isn’t it?

To run when you’re scared?

The sky’s awash with a hazy red glow when it catches you, throwing you to the ground, and still you try to crawl. Desperate, choking on broken pleas and sobs, nails raking through the dirt as you try to pull yourself forward. 

And when your pants are ripped from your legs, a puff of warm air ghosting over the nape of your neck as you’re shoved back down, those long, black arms settling either side of you, caging you in – you know that you’ve lost.

“Mine,” the creature growls, and you barely have time to scream before its cock shoves into you with one brutal, merciless thrust. “Mine.”

[gentlemancrow]

Continuing on with the Emotober prompts! UM THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME A BIT OOPS! And I originally even said I might do a different prompt since the two for today didn't resonate with me at first then BAM SUDDEN INSPIRATION and I had to make this exist?? I whumped on Jon yesterday MARTIN'S TURN TODAY HURRHURR! Please enjoy!

Oct 4th: History/ “I quit”

Sometimes, in the hush of the night when the institute slumbers, a coiled marble dragon exhaling the fog attended by rheumy-eyed yellow streetlamps, when sound is swallowed up into the cosmos by distant and shivering quasars invisibly ravenous in the silent blanket of dark, when the hands of the clocks linger at their apex, afraid to plunge into their littlest, loneliest hours, Martin allows himself a single vice. No more than ether, a gasp of fear, a lovelorn sigh into a silk pillowcase, he descends to the pit of the archive, a billowing, weighty vapor, to indulge in the gored-out ache of history. Nothing could quite compare with the exquisite oaky-aged sadness of history. With its long dead thinkers and scholars and heroes, consigned to books and busts and paint, its artifacts, entombed in glass with the last fingers to leave their marks, to touch them, mold them, hew them crumbled to dust and bone, with its voices lost to stardust and stretched out radio waves radiating out into eternity, it is a dram to sever the very tethers of one’s soul from their moorings.

The archive is a museum now of sorts, Martin likes to think, rather than a mausoleum. Even though everyone is dead and gone and only he is left to walk the place where they walked, where they laughed, where they lived, they have left themselves behind everywhere he goes.

The ancient chipped mug covered in spidery veins of cracked ceramic stained tobacco brown with tea that no one ever wanted, that always came out last, that always served as the short straw for whose unlucky turn it was to wash dishes finally, is still there in the cupboard. Though no one uses it at all anymore. No one drinks much tea anymore. The trio of electric pink Nerf darts from one of the many neon bright weapons Tim had smuggled into their lair are still stuck to one of the flickering, buzzing fluorescent lights. Martin wonders if the small pool of cash betting on when they would finally fall down is still stashed somewhere in what used to be Tim’s desk. He passes by it, but he only gets as far as the basketball hoop still hung over his rubbish bin before he has to move on.

Sasha’s old desk had long been taken over by Melanie, but her computer rig, loaded with all her various tricks of the trade, as well as her copious electronic volumes of research, had proven invaluable on more than one occasion, and still sits on a rickety folding table pushed up in a corner amidst file cabinet monoliths. Her ratty, pulpy old paperbacks with the cracked and broken spines still gather dust atop them like taxidermy ravens perched in funereal formation. Faded corners of post-it notes peek out between the dog-eared pages with scant snatches of her loopy cursive from her enthusiastic dissection of even the trashiest of literature. Martin is sure if he looks where he once sat, there will still be a few with post-its with his name on them and a cute little doodle of a pleading face, begging him to read it next so she could dish with him about it.

But the museum tour always ends at the Head Archivist’s office. At Jon’s office. It must. It rings with the hollowest, emptiest whispers of the past of all. If he pushes the door open so it squeaks just so, Martin can still hear the hiss of the tape recorder, of the flustered indignation in Jon’s voice at being interrupted and the endearingly drawn-out frustration in the way he would enunciate his name. He is everywhere in his office, from the last cup of tea he ever brought him still sat upon the dark ring where he reliably put every cup of tea without a coaster, to the half-full ash tray shamefully tucked on top of a shelf where he hoped no one would see it, to the organized chaos of notebooks and tapes and boxes threaded neatly together in his brilliant mind alone, to the inside-out umbrella that had betrayed him one morning, got hung up on the coat rack, and never managed to find a bin. Their laughter over it haunts the silence, from once Jon managed to be less of a wet and spitting cat and more accepting of one of Martin’s spare and very much dry jumpers for the morning. At least until his dried. The charcoal gray cardigan still hangs over the back of Jon’s chair that is still twisted at the distinct angle of someone leaving it, never to return. The arms look ready and inviting as he walks over to it and ghosts his fingers along them, like any moment he’ll barge in, sidle his willowy form into it, and start barking orders and jabbing long fingers decisively in the air. Only Jon has faded to the annals of history, too.

Those scarred fingers are quiet now, laid out on starched hospital white for education, a placard reading Hands of The Archivist propped in front of them, twisted up in tubing and gauze. Those are lips sealed in a museum box of plastic, a relic of bombastic passion and stubbornness, of secret gentleness and fragility. A heart that no longer beats is entombed inside the shrine of his very body, a dusty monument to everything that never was, and everything that would never be. Martin allows himself to pick up that cardigan, to lace his fingers into the fine cashmere and bury his icy, unfeeling face into the warmth it does not provide anymore. He is so far away, he’s always been so far away, and he is fading ever still. It still smells like him, like sandalwood and cigarettes and parchment paper, but that too, is a ghost. That too, is only a memory, growing dimmer and colder as the dragon wakes, the streetlights close their eyes, the stars drink their fill and the clocks sigh in relief as their freefall ends and their upward ascent begins.

But Martin revels in that space, that perpetual loneliness, that nebulous cold weapon that is his and his alone, the only way to make sure no one else has to be lost to the stone relief of history. He doesn’t even feel the tears anymore as he replaces a wet cardigan on the back of the chair, and if sobbing takes the place of laughter, it at least resonates at the very same wavelength as it reaches back to touch the cold and bloodless fingers of the past.

“Did you hear something?” Basira asks as she sets her bag down at her station.

Melanie sneers bitterly.

“Don’t you get going. It’s a manky old building. Just because we deal in spooky bullshit doesn’t mean every little thing is spooky bullshit.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Basira relents with a sigh, “Probably just the wind…”

[geekywritings]

JUNGKOOK X READER PART 2 - Is this real life or am I in a drama?

Part 2 of my little Jungkook x Reader story. For all who need a recap of Part 1: You are a young vet, just trying to make your way home from work when suddenly Jungkook falls right into your car, taking refuge from a group of sasaengs. You give him a ride home and he exchanges contact details with you, promising to stay in touch.

The prompt for part 2 is: “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?”

For the next few days, all you could think about was that meeting. It still seemed so very surreal. And you didn’t even dare tell anyone about the incident, because who would really believe you? Even your best friends and work colleagues would just raise and eyebrow and shake their heads most likely. Such things simply didn’t happen to people. They were part of k-drama scripts or popular web toons and after a week, you did start to wonder if it had all been some kind of strange dream.

But exactly that evening, when you had just come out of the shower to enjoy a cup of tea and a new episode of your favourite show, your phone beeped with a new Kakao Talk message. You gave your phone a lazy glance and then almost dropped your mug when you saw it was from none other than Jungkook.

JK: “I’m sorry for the late reply, Miss Vet. Things got kinda hectic. But I have not forgotten my promise. I still owe you that thank you.”

You had to reread that message a few times and for a second you wondered if it was a scam perhaps, but who else would now about that event but him? For a second you wondered what to answer before typing:

Y/N: “No problem. You are an idol after all. And you did already thank me.”

It took only a few seconds until his answer popped up.

JK: “It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

Wow, did he know how cool that sounded? 

Y/N: “You don’t have to worry. Really. I’m glad I could help.”

This time he took a bit longer to reply.

JK: “Do you like flowers?”

Y/N: “Yes of course. Who doesn’t?”

JK: “Which ones are your favourites?”

That one was harder to answer. You liked quite a few and just named them all, allowing him to make the final choice.

JK: “Great. Can I send them to your workplace? I don’t think florists deliver late in the evening.”

It was sweet that he was so dead set on sending you flowers as a proper thank you and while part of you was delighted, the other part wondered how to explain the bouquet to your colleagues at the vet office. Still, you typed in your adress and sent it out. 

From then on you thought the conversation would end, but apparently Jungkook was in a talkative mood. He revealed that he had a free evening and was just relaxing on the couch with a good meal, before asking you what you were up to. You told him about the drama and he suggested watching at the same time, sharing comments through text. 

You had never done anything like it before, least of all with a stranger, but Jungkook seemed so nice and it didn’t feel so intimidating to write with an idol over messages. And after the first few shared comments, you actually started to really enjoy it. You two ended up talking throughout the entire episode, which was almost an hour long and then even half an hour on top until Jungkook announced that he was heading to bed. Noticing the time, you realized it was time to hit the pillows yourself. 

But as you laid there in your bed, you kept reading through the chat history, as if making sure it was still real. Especially that “Goog Night” with the cute little emoji brought a smile to your face, before you finally turned off the night light.

____

For the next two weeks, he kept writing texts every other day. Sometimes it was just a random “How are you?” or a comment to your recently posted Kakao Story that he didn’t dare post publicly. But sometimes he would ask if you were watching that drama again to share comments in real time. It had become kind of a ritual when the third week started and a day without his messages felt weird. You still couldn’t tell anyone about it, but your friends and colleagues did start noticing your smiles and your eager grabs for the phone. But whenever they teased, you just said it was some guy online. Their would never believe the truth and you didn’t want to put Jungkook in trouble either. You had seen how crazy his fans could be, so the last thing he needed was your chats to become the topic of online gossip. Besides, it was kind of exhilarating to have a secret like that. At this point, you had already totally forgotten about the flowers.

During the fourth week of knowing Jungkook, you were staying late at the clinic, taking your regular night shift to take care of your little patients. You had just made your rounds, giving all the animals their medicine and checking on their bandages, before sitting down in the reception area, in case of emergencies coming in. But it was a super quiet evening, so you took out your phone. Almost on cue, a message popped up: “Finished work?”

Y/N: “Nope, having a night shift today.”

JK: “Oh, sounds tough.”

Y/N: “Not really. It’s quiet tonight.”

Nothing came after that and you put the phone away again, turning your head to the entry, the glassdoor giving you a perfect view of the rain shower outside. It really was coming down hard today. Bored, you took another round visiting your furry patients, giving them an extra round of cuddles. Suddenly the sound of the door tore through the hallway and you were quick to place the cat with the broken paw down to go and check on the new arrival.

You were utterly stunned to see Jungkook standing in the half opened door, dripping wet and with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. 

“It’s pouring rain! Why are you here?!”, you exclaimed, approaching him with a shake of your head. 

“Well, florists dont deliver at this hour.”, he said cheekily with a shrug. “So I came personally.” 

He held out the dripping bouquet to you, which you took gratefully, enjoying the heavy fragrance of the flowers.

“You really shouldn’t have, but thank you. They are gorgeous.”, you said, sending him a smile, before inviting him to the staff room. 

“Let me make you a tea and grab you a towel.”

“You got coffee instead?”, he asked, running a hand through his hair. It had changed color, you noticed, though you also instantly thought that you prefered it black. 

A few minutes later you came back with a small towel and a steaming cup of coffee, taking a seat across from him at the small table. The entire room was tiny, but it was enough for the team.

“So this is where you work, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a good place. It has nice people and I like how we truly take our time for each patient.”, you explained. You knew that not every clinic was like that, having done internships elsewhere during your studies. 

“Aren’t you busy though?”, it was now your turn to ask him a question.

“I am most nights, but we do get our time off as well.”, Jungkook replied. “Our agency is a good place too.” You nodded, having read up a bit about Big Hit since your meeting with one of their idols. You also realized that you did know and enjoy quite a few of BTS’ songs, even though you had never been able to put a face to them. Now you enjoyed them even more.

“Do you want a tour?”, you asked, after a minute of silence fell between you, during which Jungkook tried to dry his hair. He agreed with a nod, before following you around. There wasn’t much to show, but he did spend some time in the patient rooms, giving the animals some pets and cuddles. He was good with them, you notcied and they seemed to like him in return.

“You have two cats at home, right?”, he asked, his hand still stroking a fat tabby, who was at the clinic because of stomach problems. The owner insisted something was wrong with him, even though you had determined that he just needed a change in food and a consistent diet. 

“Yeah, Mr. Paws and Pogi.”, you replied. “I got them both from here, when the owners didn’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you, one of his eyebrows raised. “People do that?”

“Sometimes, unfortunately. Mr. Paws has a missing paw, ironically. We had to amputate it and the owner thought his cat would need special treatment because of it. And Pogi just needs regular medication and special food.” Small things really, but some owners just couldn’t handle it. 

“I saw pictures of them and I never notcied the missing paw.”, Jungkook said.

“I don’t make a point of making it the focus on pictures.” 

You ended the tour back in the staff room, where Jungkook took his coffee for a few sips, the drink instantly helping to warm him up. 

“I have to miss our drama this friday.”, he suddenly announced. “So you have to give me detailed updates or at least a good summary.”

“You could just watch the rerun online.”, you suggested.

“It’s no fun alone. So unless you can wait a day for the new episode...”

“I make no promises, since the last episode ended on a cliffhanger.. but I’ll try to be patient.” He smiled at your humor, but you were serous. The show was more enjoyable with him. 

“How did you get here?”, you eventually asked.

“I took a cab, but told them to let me out in front of a restaurant nearby. From there I walked.” In the pouring rain no less. Probably so the cab driver wouldn’t tell where he went. It was a clever ruse, but it was a shame that it was even necessary. 

“Need a ride home?”, you asked. “I think I’m not a bad driver and I have some minor experience with idol passengers.”

His smile grew even wider at that. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But I do stil have to work for an hour before I can take my break.”, you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Just a break? What time do you go home?”

“This is just like a hospital with normal night shifts. Usually they are covered by our senior staff, but because some are on holiday, the task falls to me. So today, I’m staying till 7am. But I get the next day off.”, you explained. Those almost 24 hour shifts were draining, but rare, so you didn’t mind them at all. 

“Oh, I think I will need loads of coffee to make it until 7am...”, he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I might as well keep you company. That will be the perfect way to show my gratitude.”

“You really don’t have you...”; you started. 

“I have a free day tomorrow as well, so I don’t mind.”, he insisted casually. “Besides, we get a chance to talk about that drama in person. It’s easier than typing.”

You still didn’t get why he wanted to stay. Somehow you could not imagine that it was because he simply started to enjoy your company through your online talks.

For almost the whole night, you just talked and drank copious amounts of coffee. He followed you on your patrol rounds, helping you with minor tasks whenever he could. And although it was strange, it was the best night shift ever. Most of the time, it didn’t feel like you were hanging out with an idol, but just with a really nice guy. A really handsome one at that. 

“This is nice.”, Jungkook said, voicing what you had been thinking. “But I do need another coffee.”

“You could also just take a nap.”, you offered. “I’ll wake you before it’s time to go.” It was already 4 am at this point. 

He seemed to think about the offer. “Ok, but we will grab some breakfast together to make up for lost time.”

Did he really feel like he owed you all this time? You weren’t quite sure what to answer, so you just nodded and went to grab him a blanket. There was a small sofa in the staff room specifically for the nightshift or patients who could not see blood. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Hearing it live was so much better than reading his text you decided. And with a smile you made yourself another coffee to last the remaining hours. 

[buferfliz]

I Love You More

Satori Tendou is my favorite Haikyuu character and I love him. This is rather self-indulgent but hopefully some people will like it. This should have been posted around Christmas but oh well.

I made the banner.

Word count: 2663

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, Fluffy sweet fluff, some cheesy nicknames but i like them

         Awakened by feathery touches all over your face, you flutter open your eyes and are greeted with the source of said touches. Your boyfriend continues to place light kisses all over your face before placing the final one on your lips.

         “Good morning my paradise,” the red head lying next to you greets.

         You smile at him.

         “Good morning my love. To what do I owe this pleasant wakeup call?”

         “I couldn’t help myself, you looked so cute and I just wanted to cover you in kisses. But I might also have had an ulterior motive.”

         You raise an eyebrow at his response. Satori Tendou, your boyfriend of five years though you’d been friends since middle school, always was full of surprises big and small alike. It was part of the reason you loved him so much, life was never boring.

         You give him a little peck on the lips.

         “And what might this ulterior motive be?”

         “Well, it snowed last night. It’s still snowing actually.” He animatedly tells you.

         You smile at how excited he sounds over the snow.

         “Well it is almost Christmas after all, perfect time for snow. I see you’re excited about it. Is there something you wanted to do?”

         “Well I would like to snuggle under a blanket with you and drink hot cocoa, but first…” He trails off and gives you a mischievous little grin.

         “But first what?” You cautiously ask.

         Tendou clears his throat and begins to sing.

         “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

         “Oh no.”

         “It doesn’t have to be a snowman.”

         “Are you seriously singing Frozen to me right now?” You laugh.

         “So what if I am? You know you love when I sing to you.” He gives you a flirty grin.

         “Well you got me there. I do love your songs.”

         “So?”

         “So what?”

         “Do you wanna build a snowman?” He sings once more.

         “Hmm, I don’t know.” You tease him.

         He gives you a cute little pout.

         “Aww, come on cupcake, please. I’ll make you some of my special homemade cocoa afterwards.”

         Your eyes light up. Satori makes the best hot cocoa, you think as you smile.

         “I would have said yes anyway but you promised me cocoa so now I’m going to hold you to it.” You give him a kiss on the lips before getting up to get dressed and ready for your outdoor playdate.

  Ten minutes later you emerge from your bedroom. You walk through the twinkling glow of the lights on your decorated tree as you head to your front door. You take out all of the necessary outerwear from the closet and begin putting it on.

“Satori? I thought you wanted to build a snowman?” You call out when you don’t see him, having expected him to be all ready to go.

His voice rings out from the kitchen.

“Of course I do pumpkin. I was just getting everything out and set up for the cocoa later.”

He comes out of the kitchen with a couple of chocolates in his hand and pops one into his mouth before walking over to you.

“Do you want a piece?”

“Always. I love your chocolates but not as much as I love you.”

He smiles at you adoringly and puts the chocolate into your mouth before capturing your lips in a loving kiss.

“I love you more my paradise.” He says while looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.

         You smile at him. He was the sweetest person that you had ever met and you never did understand why people were always so mean to him when the two of you were younger. It pissed you off even just remembering it despite it being so long ago. Even now some people would occasionally look at him like he was some kind of freak and it pissed you off every time. Back in middle school you had been his only friend and you had ended up in quite a number of fights defending him from the bullies. You never regretted a single fight or the countless hours you’d spent in detention because of them. You’d never let anyone get away with being mean to the boy you loved. If you regretted anything it was the fact that it had taken until the first year of college for the two of you to become a couple. That didn’t matter now though because you were together and you’d never been happier.

         “Are you ready?” You ask Tendou as you pull your hat on.

         He finishes wrapping his unnecessarily long scarf around his neck and smiles.

         “Yeah let’s go.”

 You enter the front yard and spread out looking for the best place to build your snowman. As you scout the area, you glance up at the small house the two of you had moved into a couple of months prior and smile. It wasn’t anything big or fancy but it was warm and cozy and much bigger than the tiny one bedroom apartment you had moved into together after you graduated college a year and a half ago.

It looks pretty with the snow on the roof and the Christmas lights Satori outlined it in, you think as you admire the picture before you.

“I found the perfect spot pumpkin!” You hear your boyfriend excitedly call out.

You make your way over to his location and look around.

“You’re right, this is the perfect spot. Let’s get started.” You smile at him and begin forming the base of your snowman.

“It’s going to look great.” He enthusiastically replies before getting to work himself.

  You finish shaping the head of your snowman and place it on top of the other two segments. You brush your gloves together to try and rid them of the excess snow before looking over at Tendou who is putting the head on top of the much taller snowman next to your own. He looks over at your snowman after he’s happy with the placement.

“Yours is missing something.” He says to you.

“Yeah, a face. So is yours.”

“No that’s not it. I mean yes they both need faces but yours is missing something else.”

You furrow your brow as you appraise your snowman. “What?”

He gives you a smirk before bending down and making two snowballs.

“You better not hit me with those.”

“No of course not cupcake. This is what yours is missing.”

He takes the two snowballs and affixes them next to each other on the middle segment of your snowman. You laugh as he smoothes them on.

“Seriously baby?”

“Yes. Yours is a snow woman.”

“Is that supposed to be me then? And this one is you, that’s why it’s so tall?”

“Exactly.” He smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

“So it’s a snow couple of us. Cute.”

“Not just a snow couple.” Tendou quickly creates two smaller snowmen in front of the other two. “It’s a snow family.” He gives you a big smile.

“But we don’t have any kids.”

“Not yet but we will, right?”

“Yeah someday.”

“Hopefully someday soon.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Just how soon was he thinking? Though I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about us having a family of our own, you think to yourself.

“Hmm maybe but don’t you think we should at least be engaged first?”

“What are you talking about? We already are pumpkin.” He says with a smile.

You let out a laugh.

“Satori love, I don’t think you proposing when we were 12 counts, even if I did say yes. That candy ring was delicious though.”

He laughs.

“Only the best for my paradise.”

You laugh together as you reminisce on the fond memory,

“Ok. I’m going to go inside and get some stuff for the faces. You look for arm sticks.”

You nod your head and begin your search as he heads inside to get supplies.

  Ten minutes later you have successfully found arm sticks for all the snowmen even some small ones for your snow children. Tendou still hasn’t come back outside and you begin to wonder what could be taking him so long. You decide to add a snow cat to your happy little snow family while you wait.

Ten minutes after that you were just about to go inside and see what was taking so long when he finally emerges from the house with a little box of assorted supplies. Buttons for the eyes, carrots for the noses.

“Is that red licorice?” You ask.

“Yeah it’s for the mouths and here’s some tinsel for your snow woman’s hair. And that’s not all.” With dramatic flair he presents to you a bag of red feathers.

“Oh I remember those. You had to have them when we were at the craft store. Is that what took you so long?”

“Yeah I had to look for them. I told you I’d use them.” He takes some of the longer ones out and begins placing them on the top of his snowman’s head, sticking straight up. You laugh.

“It really does look like your hair.”

He smiles at you and nods proudly as he continues decorating.

You pick up the buttons and get to work on your snow woman’s face as a shiver runs through you. Tendou notices.

“Why aren’t you wearing a scarf pumpkin?”

“Because I need a new one, I lost mine.”

“Well then come here.”

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a reason why I wear such a long scarf you know, it’s so I can share it with you.” He unwinds some of his unnecessarily long scarf from around his neck and wraps it around you.

You smile. “We’re going to have to stay close together then.”

“That’s just how I like it so no complaints from me.” He happily responds.

You stay close and finish up your snow family. You take a few pictures and then hurry inside out of the cold.

  The two of you change out of your wet clothing and into something warm and dry before going into the kitchen.

You perch yourself on a barstool as Tendou gets to work making the hot cocoa. Before long he’s placing a steaming mug of it, complete with mini marshmallows, in front of you.

“Would you like a cupcake, cupcake?” He smiles.

“When did you make cupcakes?”

“This morning before I woke you up. They’re your favorite.”

Your face lights up.

“Funfetti?”

“Of course.”

“You’re too good to me, my love.”

He hands you one of the cupcakes before taking one for himself. The two of you spend the next few minutes quietly eating cupcakes and drinking cocoa.

“Mmm, so good.” You say as you enjoy your sweets.

You tilt your head back a bit and place the last piece of cupcake into your mouth when you notice something hanging from the ceiling.

“Is that mistletoe?” You ask after swallowing what’s in your mouth.

You look over to see a smiling Tendou looking back at you.

“Maybe.”

You smile and lean over, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“When did you even hang that?” You look back up at the mistletoe when you spot something attached to it.

“Is that a piece of paper?”

“Maybe.” He smirks.  “You should grab it and see.”

“You know I can’t reach that.”

He grabs ahold of you and gives you a boost so you can reach the paper. You retrieve it and he puts you back down.

“Should I be worried?” You chuckle as you unfold the paper.

“Just read it.” He tells you with a chuckle of his own.

“Ok.” You fully unfold the paper and read aloud. “I am just the first of many hints to lead you on your search. To find clue number two, go to the place where you poo.”

You laugh out loud.

“Seriously love?”

“Yeah I couldn’t think of anything else that rhymed.” He says a bit sheepishly.

“Well I know where it is without question.” You lace your fingers with his and kiss the back of his hand before making your way to the bathroom.

You look up and see another mistletoe with another piece of paper.

“I’m going to need your help again, baby.”

“Not so fast pumpkin, where’s my kiss?”

You shake your head and go onto your tiptoes as he leans down. You give him another sweet kiss. He smiles at you and helps you to retrieve the next paper. You unfold it and read.

“Great job, you’re halfway there, now onto clue number three. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a trap just go to the place where you like to nap.”

You smile and take hold of his hand again and head into the living room.

“You couldn’t put it over the couch so I could reach it?”

“Now where would be the fun in that? You know what to do.”

You put your arms around his neck as his hands make their way onto your hips. You give him a more passionate kiss this time before breaking away. He gives you another boost and you grab the next clue.

“Only one more left so don’t get feisty, go to the place where we make things spicy.”

You look over at your boyfriend who is wearing a teasing little smirk.

“Well I know where this is leading.” You give him a peck on the cheek. “This is fun. Thank you baby.”

Taking his hand once more, you head into the bedroom. You spot the mistletoe above the bed.

“Ah finally one I can reach on my own.” You look at Tendou. “You put all these up when you came in here to get the stuff for our snow family, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, you caught me. I wanted to surprise you so I couldn’t let you see them before I was ready.”

“You’re so freakin’ cute.” You smile and then climb onto the bed and retrieve the last paper.

“It seems you’ve come to the end of the line, now turn around cupcake and look me in the eye.”

You do as the note says and face Tendou. He helps you down off the bed before getting down on one knee in front of you. He holds your left hand as your right one goes to your mouth, eyes widening in surprise.

“I love you my paradise. I have ever since I proposed to you when we were 12. You’re the only one who has always been there for me, the only one who stuck up for me when I was being called monster and freak. You’ve always made me feel like a person and that I was loved, loved by you. I’m not sure how I got lucky enough to have someone as amazing as you love me but I’m so grateful that I do. You’re my everything. All I could ever ask for and more. I promise to always take care of you and love you with all I have from now until the rest of forever. Will you marry me?”

Your eyes well up with happy tears, a few escaping down your cheeks and you smile.

“I said yes then and I’m saying yes now. Of course I’ll marry you Satori, I love you so much, ever since we were 12. Always have, always will.”

He stands up and pulls you to him. You share a loving kiss as you hug each other tightly.

“I even got you a real ring this time.” He slips the ring onto your finger.

You let out a little chuckle and look at it.

“It’s beautiful my love.”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“You’re the sweetest and I love it! Even if I can’t eat it this time.”

Tendou laughs and pulls you against him more tightly. He gives you another sweet kiss.

“I love you my miracle boy.”

“I love you more my paradise.”

[freedom-shamrock]

Speaking on My Behalf

Also over on AO3

@saijspellhart allowed me to take this delightful idea and run with it, so here we are.  Go team!

Chapter One

"All right," Marinette said, handing Adrien the steaming mug. "One Cheng family, top secret laryngitis treatment. Careful, it's hot." She could smell the fresh lemon juice as it wafted in her face.

Adrien snorted ruefully, grasping the mug carefully before slumping back into the couch.

"He says, thank you," Plagg offered helpfully from his place sprawled in his holder's ultra messy bed head.

Adrien smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm just sorry I can't do more to help you," Marinette said, feeling bad. This was his first real illness since they'd decided it made more sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to share an apartment. It would limit the risk of anyone else figuring out their identities the way they had.  The miraculous were excellent for preventing colds and illness, but apparently they didn't really impact allergies. The warm spring had been brutal on her partner and close friend. Tikki would point out that he was also Marinette's first and only love (or strongly imply it in her look and point it out once they were alone together), but she was asleep in her nest in Marinette's room.

Adrien shook his head and waved one hand as if to push her worry away.

"There's only so much even you can do, Buggy," Plagg offered. "He gets that."

Adrien vigorously nodded his agreement with his kwami.

"And to be fully honest," the black cat of destruction continued, "he wouldn't have gotten half this kind of treatment back at the mansion." His face squished up in a way that Marinette had come to learn was disgust. "His schedule would've been cleared, partly anyway, and he'd be abandoned in that compensation-chamber-of-shitty-parenting that his father called a bedroom."

Adrien frowned, looking petulant while he made indignant shushing noises at his kwami.

Marinette moved closer, scooping up the book and laptop from the ottoman near the couch, so she could take a seat there. She'd always felt Gabriel's cold nature ran into neglectful, if not full-on abusive, territory, but Adrien was quick to change the subject when things got too close to discussing his family life. "Nathalie doesn't have much of a bedside manner, huh?"

Adrien rolled his eyes. It was amazing just what he could express without his voice, and it was no wonder he was loving the acting classes he'd snuck into his schedule.

"Well you don't live there anymore, and we Dupain-Cheng folk do not believe in allowing those who are ill or uncomfortable suffer alone." She reached out to run her fingertips over his cheek, pleased when he closed his eyes and hummed happily. "I'll be checking on you regularly, and I won't be any farther away than the other room, so just send Plagg if you need anything, okay?"

His gorgeous green eyes fluttered open and he gazed softly at her.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg agreed, his voice a jarring break in the gentle moment. "I'll come get you if he needs anything."

She'd brought work home from the La Fleur Fashions, the design house she'd joined before she even finished school. It was a small and highly exclusive house focused on women's evening wear, and while that was a bit limiting for her tastes, it paid well, and she enjoyed what she was doing. She'd made sure her contract allowed her to create her own  designs so long as they weren't competing for the same market, for her online boutique. Lucky Bug provided mostly one-of-a kind or commission pieces, including daywear and menswear. "Are you sure you don't want me to bring my work in here?" she asked for what had to be the fifth time.

Adrien's forehead scrunched up as he let out a huff.

"He would like to remind you that he's spent most of his twenty-three years coping on his own when he's ill," Plagg offered.

Adrien's eyes shot up as if he could see his kwami through his skull.

"He'll just feel guilty if you come out here," Plagg added. "No one has the whole guilt thing down like my kitten."

"Don't I know it," Marinette muttered, letting out a sigh and ignoring Adrien's indignant expression. "I promise, I'm happy to be here if it gives you any comfort, but I'm also not going to push. I definitely don't want you to feel more guilty about things that are basic human needs." That had been the first thing they'd had a serious talk about after moving in together.  He was constantly apologizing and trying to avoid being a nuisance.  "You are my best friend in the whole world," she insisted, brushing her thumb down his cheek.

"Ooooh," Plagg purred. "Better than Alya?"

"No contest," she replied, delighted by his response.

He closed his eyes and melted against her hand.

"I am always here for you," she promised. More than anything else in the world, he needed people who cared for him unconditionally, people who wouldn't turn their backs on him and leave him to languish in loneliness.

⁂

Adrien snapped his laptop closed. He was bored out of his mind and while he should have been happy to binge on Netflix, he was stupidly restless. The bright spots in his day had all involved Marinette, dear sweet Marinette, doting on him. He'd woken with a terrible sore throat from his allergies. He'd been able to easily identify it by the distinct characteristic that it felt like he'd tried to swallow a cactus (which he'd actually done once as Chat Noir, and would not recommend). His room mate, super partner, and all around best friend had been more kind to him in the first ten minutes than his father and Nathalie had been, combined, for all his sick days ever. His throat already felt better, but his voice would be gone for at least the rest of the day, but probably longer.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and gently poked at Plagg, hoping to go for a run.

"No," Plagg grumbled. "We are not going out as Chat Noir today unless there's an akuma." His words were accompanied by tiny feet stomping on Adrien's head. "The Guardian wants you to rest."

Adrien's groan came out as more of a whine thanks to his irritated vocal cords.

"I get that you're fidgety, Kid," Plagg sounded a touch more compassionate. "But she's the boss, and she's right."

Adrien pouted. It was incredibly unfair that his kwami was so affectionate toward Marinette, yielding to her requests with no need of bribery. His frustration was disrupted by a delighted squeal from Marinette's room.

"Woo hoo!" She sounded giddy, and like she was trying to keep her enthusiasm toned down.

Adrien grinned. She was probably doing that full body wiggle that she did when she was super happy and excited. He opened his mouth to call to her, then remembered he couldn't.

"What are you celebrating in there, Pigtails?" Plagg called. He had almost as many nicknames for Marinette as Adrien did.

"This new dress is so awesome," Marinette replied. "I love it when I nail it on one of these. Monique is gonna love this one."

Adrien snorted. Monique loved pretty much all of Marinette's designs. It hadn't escaped his notice that the head designer and founder of La Fleur was asking more and more of her junior employee. She was clearly coming to Marinette when the stakes were highest, though being the humble person she was, Marinette hadn't noticed this herself.

Adrien waved his hand above his head, frantically trying to get Plagg's attention. He wanted to see that dress. He loved it when Marinette gave him his own private fashion shows. They were his own guilty pleasure, and admittedly featured strongly in his daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg muttered. "Hold your horses, Kid." He raised his voice to reach Marinette. "We get to see it, right?"

Marinette's head popped out from the tiny hall toward her bedroom. "You really want to see it?"

She looked so happy, and Adrien felt blessed having her bright eyes so intensely focused on him. He vigorously nodded, cupping his hands together in silent plea.

"It would be rude to leave us hanging," Plagg added.

She disappeared with a giggle. "Okay.  Just a minute."

Adrien settled back into the couch, grinning like an idiot and vigorously rubbing his forearms to shed some of his excess energy. A new evening dress. He wondered if it would be cute or elegant, or something else entirely. Since they'd been living together he'd seen her create the gamut of evening dresses, from sweet things for teen starlets, to flirty numbers, to luxurious and sophisticated pieces sought by A-listers. And what color might it be? She'd done everything, though she preferred not to go with black unless it had accents because she felt there tended to be too much weight on basic black. The people wearing her works of art were guaranteed to stand out.

He tried not to pay attention to the sounds of zippers and the swishing of fabric. He was a model for goodness' sake. He could handle having a gorgeous woman change nearby without blowing a gasket.

"These shoes aren't quite right," Marinette cautioned, breaking him out of his little spiral.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg replied. "It's all about the dress. We got it, Princess."

Adrien couldn't hold back the hiss when his kwami dared use his personal nickname for her.

Plagg merely snickered as he floated off Adrien's hair to land on the back of the couch.

Adrien scowled and batted Plagg off his perch. His death glare seemed to have no effect on the cackling little beast. He felt himself gathering for a pounce when the sound of heels on the wood floor announced Marinette's impending arrival. Freezing, he curled his lip one last time in warning before slowly and intentionally easing himself back into his reclined position.

Marinette sauntered into the room, treating it as her own personal runway. Sashay, sashay. Pause and pose. Quarter turn, pose. He could practically hear the drill he'd walked her through when he'd taught her runway basics. She may not have had real training, because his tutoring had hardly been anything, but she totally killed it, and Adrien was pretty sure his soul left his body the moment he got a good look at her.

The dress was a stunning sleeveless number in a magenta to midnight blue ombre with an overlay of tulle to give the fabric depth and movement without too much weight. The neckline dropped into a gorgeous V ending at her sternum. The skirting had a slit at the front that crept high enough to flash pretty much all over her amazingly toned leg.

She moved to her final pose, directly in front of him, a sultry little smirk on her lips. It was a good thing he was already sitting down, because the wink she threw him would have definitely killed him. She was so amazingly beautiful and talented. Even if his voice had been working, he would have had no words for her now.

After a moment, she relaxed her pose, giggling as she looked down at the dress. "I have to say, this is one of my best."

Adrien nodded vigorously in agreement..

She let out a happy sigh. "What do you think?"

Adrien opened his mouth for a moment, but found himself shutting it again with a little head shake. He still didn't have words, even ones he could silently mouth to her.

"NettieBug," Plagg said smoothly, darting up to float in front of her. "I can answer honestly for the Kid here when I tell you that you're hot as fuck."

⁂

I suspect this will need one more chapter to be truly satisfying.

Apologies for being so absent. I'm still herding kids and managing the household while we are all safe at home for a few more weeks (I can not wait for school to end!). I'm trying to fit in writing where I can, but often don't have the energy.

⁂

Check out Chapter Two >>>

[kookoosbunnynose]

Ch.1 || Ch.2

Pairing: Neighbor!Jungkook/FWB!Jungkook x Artist!Reader

Genre: Slowburn, Smut, Angst, Humor

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Cursing | Slutty Jimin, we love him | mentions of emotional abuse | large jungcock | dom!jungkook | dom/sub themes |a singular use of a sir kink | dirty talk, lots | oral (f recieving) | he so gentle uwu, and then he’s very not gentle lmao

Summary: You’re an art student in need of a partner for your new collaboration piece, who is there to help you but your new neighbor, Jeon Jungkook. You two paint together but leave with much more than a colorful canvas.

A/N: Hello! I know! Dumb bitch finally updated the fic lmao. but i’m really excited about this part and even more excited for the rest of the fic. If you haven’t read chapter 1 yet go read it! 

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

Thankfully, even though you didn’t get to bed by the time you wanted last night, after the whole ‘y/n is a dumbass and got locked out’ debacle, you woke up with enough time to take it slow this morning. Mornings like these were your favorite, no rush. Just you sitting at your vanity getting ready for your day, jamming along to whatever song comes on your shuffle, using various items as a makeshift microphone.

You’re in the heat of Colors by Halsey when there’s a knock at your door, you abruptly cut off your poorly tuned melody, feeling caught. You quickly finish the eyebrow you’re working on as you don’t want the person at the door to see you with the one and a half you’re currently sporting. Good enough.

You rush to your front door, careful not to let your fluffy socks make you slip on the linoleum. When you open the door only to be greeted by your fluffy haired neighbor. He looks good in the morning too? Well that’s just fucking peachy. You’re making this difficult Jeon.

“Good morning.” You smile trying to hide how distraught you are.

“Good morning, sorry to bug you” he smiles sheepishly. “I was just hoping I could steal an egg from you? We’re out.” He asks hopeful.

“Oh, yeah of course. Just a second.” You turn on your heels to grab an egg from the kitchen. When your face is hidden by the fridge door you take a second to take a deep breath before making your way back to him. “Just one?” You ask when you hand it to him.

“Yeah one’s good, thank you y/n.” He gives you a small bow and opens his door. “See you later.”

---

“Hello gorgeous.” Yoongi says as your trio approaches the counter.

“Morning handsome.” Jimin smirks and steps in front of you.

“I was talking to y/n.”

“Her?” He looks over his shoulder at you. “While I’m here? That doesn’t sound right.” He scrunches his nose as if he’s doing mental math.

“I’ll just get your usual started.” He says leaning to the side so he can see your face.

“Thank you.” You laugh at them swipe your card and take the blueberry muffin he slides your way. You step to the side and wait for your boys to order their drinks.

“Remind me why we still come here.” Joon asks the two of you as you make your way to the pick-up end of the counter.

“Because we’ve been doing it since we started uni. We’re old and stuck in our ways, Joonie. There’s no backing out now.” You reply woefully.

“What are we? Boomers? We can go to a different coffee shop.” Namjoon furrows his brows.

“Order for Sweets!” A now familiar boxy smiled boy behind the counter says.

“Oh no we can’t. Not anymore.” Jimin says his attention caught by Tae.

“Look who wants to fuck the neighbors now!” You whisper yell at them before stepping toward the counter.

“Ha! You admit it!- Wait, neighbor?” You hear Jimin behind you.

“Hi Tae! Thank you.”

“Hello y/n!” He smiles and leans in to make his voice hushed. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Yoongi a thing? He covers like half your bill and calls you pet names everyday.” He lists off the, admittedly odd, circumstances of your relationship. 

“Oh, no we’re not. We just flirt back and forth. I think if he had any real intention behind it he would’ve asked me out by now, in my experience he’s pretty straight forward.” You chuckle.

“Ah okay. Would you want him to ask you out?”

“I did in the beginning but it’s been well over a year. As far as he goes, I’m sated with just the flirting.” 

“Ah, I see.” He turns away to grab the next two cups. “Orders for Jimin and Namjoon!” He calls over.

“Why do you ask?”

He pauses for a second. “I was just curious, he’s kinda like that with a couple girls but you seem to be his favorite.”

“Well it’s been a while, seniority I guess.” You shrug and your counterparts join you at the counter. “Oh how rude of me, these are my roommates. This is Taehyung.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, I’ll probably be seeing you guys a lot. I’m across the hall pretty often.” You all chuckle. “I wish I could talk longer but I don’t want to hold up the line, see you!” He smiles. 

The three of you give various forms of a goodbye as you leave to find your usual table. 

“Okay, is no one gonna say it?” Jimin says once you’re seated and safely out of ear shot.

“Say what?” Namjoon asks scrunching his face at his hot coffee.

“What do you mean ‘say what?’” Jimin says blinking slowly at your brother. “What is in those boys’ cheerios?” 

“Fiber?”

“No! You fucking tree!” 

“Y/n really? Now he’s calling me that, too?” You shrug.

---

You take a breath in as you walk into the art studio, the smell of paint and pencil lead tickling your nose. You take your usual seat at a large table and check your phone for your list of assignments. The professor sends you a large list of all the assignments at the beginning of the semester. Giving students the freedom to choose what order they do them in, the only stipulation is that you must have half turned in by midterms and the other half by the end of the semester. A much more doable lesson plan than a lot of your past professors. Being forced to be creative is draining and doesn’t get you far.

You scan down the list of possibilities until you find one that catches your eye. Monochromatic self portrait (any color)? No. Pretend you have synesthesia and illustrate your favorite song? Eh, not today. Collaboration piece? Ugh, I can’t even if I wanted to. I need to find someone to work with. Create 5 random custom colors and paint a landscape using only those colors (5”x5”)? Sounds like I could get that done before I leave. Perfect.

You pop in your earbuds and get to work. Deciding acrylic would be best for a quick painting, you grab a pallet and a sizable glob of each of the primary colors along with black and white. A little red here, a little yellow there, and some white for this one. You continue putting in different combinations until you have five colors you’re happy with not worrying if they’ll make sense for scenery. Fuck it. Who says trees can’t be purple? 

As you dip your brush into your small selection of paints and watch the way the colors glide onto the canvas, it makes a sense of ease wash over you. Breathing life into a piece no matter how simple creates a new little reality in it’s own right. Expands our universe one brush stroke at a time. In the least cringy art kid way possible, of course.

You continue your work, mouthing along to your music as you go. Rust tinted grass and a peachy sky coming together in a way that definitely isn’t realism but ends up having a sunset feel due to the warm hues you chose. Just a few touch ups here and there and you’re done.

You pack up your things and head home with your new little creation to dry completely overnight. It’s already mostly dry but the textured parts still have a way to go. 

---

  “I really need to go grocery shopping. Thank you again, y/n.” Bunny teeth shining as he leaves your apartment with a mug of tea in place of the hot water he showed up with.

Today is day… eight? Of a new routine has developed over the course of the week. Everyday without fail, whether it be morning or evening, an egg or a cup of milk. Jungkook comes over and asks for a small food item, thanks you, and returns home. No big deal, but it’s apparent that those idiots really need to restock their fridge. It’s like having a stray cat that comes around every night after you feed it once. A really big stray cat… with pretty hair, and a cute lip mole, that always smells like fresh laundry and citrus… anyway-

Time to officially start the day and pretend that little mental tangent didn’t just happen. Go team!

You finish doing some light makeup and throw on some ripped mom jeans and a black hoodie. Enough effort to look like you care, but still comfy. You throw your bag over your shoulder, slip your boots on and head out the door.

Finding parking on campus at this time of day is a nightmare and usually takes longer than just walking since you live just off school grounds. So you make your short walk and stop by the cafe by yourself. You usually go alone only once a week; there’s only one day where you’re the only one of your roomies to have a morning class. 

You order, give Tae his morning hello and make your way to class. 

Classes pass with relative ease. You listen and take notes; taking notes more so meaning doodling along the margins of your notebook than anything else. Really putting those scholarships to good use. 

Art history, meeting with the theater department about painting props, studio, home. 

You enter your apartment and are met with Jimin and Namjoon sitting on the couch about to start the obligatory bi-monthy screening of Your Name. 

“Hey! Were you gonna start the movie without me?” You kick off your shoes and take a running leap onto your spot on the couch.

“No! We were waiting for you, we’re not monsters.” Namjoon retorts in defense.

“That’s exactly what someone who wasn’t waiting for me would say.” You narrow your eyes at your little brother at the other end of the couch.

“Would you two stop bickering for two seconds. It’s starting.” Jimin puts a hand over both your mouths from his spot between you.

“Sheesh, grumpy pants.” You grumble when he lowers his arms.

The movie is filled with the same sobs and ‘awe’s that it always is, always ending in tears for at least one of you. Breathtaking animation coupled with a heart wrenching story, no matter how many times you watch it, it never fails to amaze. As much as you would’ve loved more closure at the end of the movie, the ambiguous ending couldn’t be more poetic. 

“Joonie, what would you do if we switched bodies?” You turn to your brother as the credits roll.

“Probably get a discounted coffee.” He deadpans.

“Oh, you’re no fun!”

“More money in my bank account sounds very fun.” 

Your retort cut off by a knock at the door from your neighbor for his daily snack, so you settle for throwing the pillow sitting in your lap in his direction as you stand. Which he tries to swat away only to end up with a faceful of cushion. Ha, get got bitch.

“Do you need an egg?” You say as you open the door.

“Uh- No I’m good? Thank you for asking.” Tae chuckles, you freeze your eyes widening.

“Oh my god, I thought you were Jungkook.” You let out a stiff laugh and shuffle your feet in embarrassment. “Anyway, what brings you all this way?” You joke, attempting to alleviate a bit of the blush on your cheeks.

“I just wanted to see if you’d wanna chill with us tonight? We had a lot of fun last time. Nothing special, but I wanted to see if you were up for it.” He smiles. “You guys are more than welcome to join too if you’d like!” He shouts over your shoulder at the boys sitting on the couch when he notices them sitting there.

“Nah we’re good Jimin and I have a test in the morning, and if I don’t force him to study with me he’ll fail.” Namjoon says from the couch

“I would not!” Jimin turns to him offended.

“Okay, I’ll study alone then.”

“No, please help me.” He deflates.

“See.” Joon smirks. “Thank you for the offer though!” He calls over to Tae.

“No problem, next time?”

“Next time.” He echoes.

“I’ll hold you to it.” He points a slender finger in your brother’s direction. “What about you, y/n? Are you down?” He directs his attention back to you.

“Right now?”

“If that works for you, Kook will be back from work shortly, it’ll just be Hobi and I for a little bit.” 

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You smile. “Just let me go grab a couple things real quick and then I’m good to go!”

You scurry to your bedroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror, evaluating the damage the day has done to your makeup. Not bad. You give the apples of your cheeks a quick squeeze to bring back a little color, scramble to find your tinted lip balm, and fluff up your hair a little. There we go. Cute. Now to find something to bring with me so this little panicked face check isn’t a complete lie. Phone charger is good.

With your phone charger in hand and a revived complexion you head back out. 

“Thanks for waiting.” Tae gives you a nod and you smile while you give your boys a wave as you walk out the door.

You walk into the boys apartment and are immediately greeted by a wagging Bread who you kneel to give a plethora of loves, giggling when he hops up and tries to kiss your face.

“Hey y/n!”

“Hey Hobi!” You say as you follow Tae over to the couch with Bread right on your heels. 

“Glad you decided to join us. Kook will be here soon, he left work not long ago.” 

“I gave her the run down before we came over.” Tae smiles.

“How have classes and shit been?” You ask them

“Not ideal. I pulled a muscle in my leg.” Hobi rubs his calf. “With a big performance coming up on friday, but the show must go on, you know.” He shrugs.

“Oh shit dude, will you be okay?”

“He does this at least once a semester.” Tae says waving it off, used to his friend pushing through his injuries. 

“Yeah, it sucks for a bit but I’ll have some wiggle room to rest after this test.” He reassures.

“Okay good, just don’t die.” You chuckle.

“I’ll try not to.” He laughs.

“I’ve been doing a few surveys for my psych classes, would you mind if I get some data from you?” Tae looks to you, taking full advantage of the small lull in conversation.

“Tae no.” Hobi’s face falls and he rubs his temples.

“Do you find Chuck E. Cheese fuckable?” He asks, a genuine question mark in his eyes.

You blink. “What the hell kind of psych classes are you taking?”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

You look at Hobi for some sort of answer, though you’re not even sure what your question is. “You’re gonna have to just answer him, he’s been on about it all day.” 

“Fucking of course not. Why on earth would I want to fuck a rat? And even if I did, why would I want to fuck a robotic rat roughly the size of an entire kindergarden class?” 

“First of all, he’s a mouse.” Tae corrects. “Second of all, THANK YOU!” He throws his arms up and flops against the back of the couch. “One kid in my class started this somehow and the room was surprising split. About forty percent of the people in that room said ‘Charles Entertainment Cheese’ was sexy! It got pretty heated, people were yelling that the opposing side that we ‘just couldn't handle his raw sexual power.’” He says exasperated with overdone air quotes. “So I’ve been asking everyone all day because I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I suppose I can see how that would plague your mind.” You laugh.

“Anyway!” Hobi interjects, clearly tired of the subject. “How are your things going, y/n?” 

You chuckle at his wide eyes. “They’ve been good. I’ve been spending more time in the studio with midterms coming up. But I need to find someone to work with me on a collab piece. I wanna have it in by midterms so I don’t have to worry about it during finals.” you sigh at the thought. 

“Awh, I would help with that but I already did that assignment and I’m not sure if they’d let me do it again with someone else?” Tae says with a small frown.

“I’d offer but the only thing I am versed in is drawing stick figures and arguably anatomically incorrect dicks.” Hobi chuckles.

“Thanks you guys.” You smile. “It’s alright though, I might just ask Jimin to get drunk and throw some paint at a canvas with me.”

“Hey! This reminds me, a couple days ago when you got coffee you promised you’d show me some of your work when we hung out next.” Tae looks at you sternly, arms tight across his chest. “The time has come Miss y/n.” 

“Ah, I suppose I did.” You say as you grab your phone to show him your album of a bunch of your work. “Okay, but I’m no Van Gogh. Go easy on me.” You warn before you hand over your device to him; you always get a little nervous when you show people your art for the first time.

“Hey hey! None of that nonsense! If the way you talk about art is any consolation, then I’m sure the passion alone is enough to make it beautiful.” Tae gives you a stern look followed by a reassuring smile.

“Do you want me to cry? Because this is how you make me cry.” You chuckle and relent your collection of work over to him for them to inspect. 

They open the first photo and you’re met with a mixture of a ‘holy shit’ from Hobi and a ‘wow’ from Tae, their reactions make you smile and your face heat up. 

“These are amazing y/n!” Hobi says as Tae swipes through.

“Thank you guys so much, really.” You say blushing and all but clutching your chest.

You watch their faces intently as they go through, Tae stopping every so often to zoom in and inspect a certain brushstroke that catches his eye. They get toward the end of the photoset when you hear a key in the front door. You’re the only one to turn your head to see Jungkook walk into the apartment. He sets his keys down on the table next to the entrance and his feet stutter a little when he sees you on the couch with his friends. 

“Hey Kook! Y/n was just showing us some of her art, dude she’s so talented!” Hobi calls over his shoulder.

“It’s really good, you should come take a look.” Tae adds, and you laugh nervously.

“That’s so awesome, I will.” He says looking at you with a smile. “I just need to talk to Tae, for a quick second.” He says turning his gaze toward him and tilting his head toward the hall. 

“Oh, is it about that thing?” Tae grits his teeth and sucks in sharp breath.

“Yes, exactly, the thing.” He confirms vaguely, looking relieved.

“Is everything okay?” You furrow your brows and look at each of them.

“He just has a rash, no worries.” Tae tells you in a hushed tone as he stands up. All you can do is blink in response. Jungkook lets out an exaggerated laugh as they disappear into the dark hallway and out of sight.

Once they are safely in the other room Jungkook flicks Tae in the forehead. 

“Ow!” Tae gasps.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Jungkook whisper yells at his idiot of a best friend.

“I was covering for you!”

“You could’ve said literally anything else! I don’t even have a rash!”

“She doesn’t know that!”

“Exactly, you fuck!” Jungkook whispers flicking him again. “Why is she here?! You didn’t warn me!”

“This is what I get for trying to help you?” Tae says rubbing his forehead with a pout.

“Hey! I was handling it just fine on my own!”

“Oh yeah, your plan to slowly raid the entire contents of her fridge was going so great!”

“I just thought!... I thought we would eventually talk or... something?” Jungkook says realizing maybe it wasn’t the best plan in the world. “That’s how my parents used to get to know our neighbors, they’d borrow each others sugar and shit.”

“It’d be easier to talk to her if you just hung out with her and I invited her over for you. You’re welcome! And your parents weren’t trying to fuck your neighbors, were they! Different goal calls for different strategy.” 

“Dude gross, I hope not.” Jungkook scrunches his nose. “And I don’t… just wanna fuck her.”

“Aww, does Googie have a bigger crush than we thought he did.” Tae teases pinching his cheek.

“Fuck you. But thanks I guess… just warn me next time, will you?” Jungkook relents.

“You got it.” Tae says patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only kinda sorry though!” He whispers as he slips out the door. Jungkook follows him to join all of you in the living room.

“Sorry about that.” Jungkook smiles at you as he and Tae take their places next to you on the couch. 

“No worries.” You assure.

“Kook you should take a look at her work, I think you’d like it.” Hobi says passing your phone over to him and your face heats up a little. “I was just telling y/n how you were really artsy in high school.” 

“Oh, it was nothing.” Jungkook waves him off as he starts to look through the photos and stopping a little longer on ones that catch his eye. 

“It wasn’t nothing.” Tae interjects. “Actually y/n, you mentioned needing a partner for that collab piece? Since I can’t assist, I’m sure Jungkook could help you out.” Tae gestures to the two of you.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask him to do that for me.” You shake your head, looking at both their faces.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side for a second. “I wouldn’t mind at all, it would be fun. I might be a little rusty though.” He says with worried eyes.

“Really? you wouldn’t mind?” You light up. “That would help me out a ton. I’ve been stressing over that piece for weeks.”

“I’d be happy to.” He smiles bright. “I’m off on Saturday, we could work on it then. If that works for you, of course.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” You reach out to shake his hand, effectively sealing the deal. “Thank you so much.” you say and squeeze his hand a little.

“So Kook, I’m collecting data for my psych class-” Tae takes this opportunity to stain your moment of gratitude.

“I already told you, I’m not fuckin’ rats!” Jungkook cuts him off.

“He’s not a rat!”

“Which side are you on?!”

---

“Did I call it? Or did I call it?” Jin looks at you with his stupid smug ass face.

“Listen! It’s nothing!” You throw that damp rag you’re wiping down a table with in his direction.

“It’s not nothing! I can smell your pent up sexual frustration for him from here. You guys are gonna be alone for several hours making art together? What is he, Swayze?”

“Men and women can be platonic friends! You’re not thinking very progressively here, old man.”

“Of course, men and women can be platonic friends.” He says gesturing at the air between you. “But you and what’s his fuck, Junglebook, you said? You two, cannot.” 

“Your lack of faith in me is astounding.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a lack of faith in you, more of an educated assumption… And a lack of faith in both of you.” He smirks. Asshole.

“Fuck you.” You deadpan.

“You know you love me y/nie.” He blows you a kiss.

“You’re lucky I do.”

---

You: I can bring the supplies over whenever you’re ready, just lemme know! Thank you for letting me come over there, it would be hard for creative juices flowing with Joon hovering over us all night. Trying to figure out a deep psychological reason for me painting a flower yellow lmao

You: Oh! And wear clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, stains are inevitable :)

And send. 

Okay listen to me you dumb bitch. You can do this. We got this. For fuck sake why are you so nervous? Pull yourself together! Just enough to prove Jin and Jimin wrong. Do it just to rub it in their faces! Fuck. What are you 12? We can hang out alone with him. This is stupid. I’m stupid. It’s fine. Everything is fine! Shut up.

Tight Buns McCute-Dog: You can come over now, I’m just gonna change real quick, the door is unlocked! (: 

After receiving that reply, instead of him just cancelling, you were relieved he was still willing to help you. However it didn’t help the whole sweating from your ass cheeks with nerves, thing. So overall about the same. Great. 

Doing an abstract painting in these mental conditions will result in accidentally painting several phallic shapes. A Freudian Slip of the wrist if you will. 

After a couple deep breaths, effectively shoving half your feelings deep into the crevices of your mind, and changing his contact name, just for good measure. You grab all the supplies you’ll need and walk across the hall. 

You struggle to open your door while balancing your small box of acrylics, easel and canvas in your arms. Deciding to abandon your easel in the hall for a second while you knock on your neighbor’s door a couple times before you turn the knob. 

Bread is already eager and yipping at you for attention while you attempt to bring everything in and set it up to the side of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. 

---

Jungkook opens your texts and mouths a small ‘oh shit’ not wanting to keep you waiting, but quickly regretting his decision to work out right before he saw you. He wanted to look a little extra muscley but didn’t consider that he’d be a sweaty mess after doing so. 

He settles for telling you he’s changing and hopes you take a few minutes to gather your things so he can blow dry his hair a little. 

Your presence in his apartment is made known when he hears his dog barking and scuttling around. He gives his hair a quick tousel, throws on one of his many black hoodies and a little spritz of cologne. 

Jungkook emerges from his bedroom to find you fumbling with your easel. Cute. 

“Do you need help?” he asks through a giggle.

“Nope! Got everything a hundred percent under control over here.” Your sentence punctuated by your canvas falling to the floor. “Shit.”

“Allow me.” he says handing you the canvas.

“Thank you.” you breath and run a hand through your hair. 

“So what’s the plan? I hope you’re not expecting any Sistine Chapel level work from me.” he chuckles.

“A bunch of naked babies and a priest with the ears of an ass? I appreciate that you don’t bring that to the table.” you raise your brows. 

“Point taken.” 

“The plan is no plan. I mean I wanted to go for something abstract because it’s fun and doesn’t require a lot of brain power. Just put the brush where you think it should go.” you mime a couple brush strokes in the air.

“Sounds easy enough, paint from the heart.” he confirms, patting his chest for emphasis. 

“Oh, I did think one of us could be in charge of warm colors and tints, and the other could do cool colors and shades, and see where that takes us.” you look up expectantly, hoping he likes your almost-plan.

“Sounds interesting.” He looks at the empty canvas, eyes scanning for possibilities. “Which do you want?” 

“I’m partial to cool colors, myself.” 

“Then today, I’m partial to warm.” he smirks. “So are we just feeling what we feel in the moment or is there an emotion we’re trying to convey?” He turns to you, eyes expectant. 

You pause for a second, unsure if you should abandon the theme you were pondering for this piece before you knew Jungkook would be your partner in creation. “Is it too cliche if the theme was ‘love’?” You ask him hesitantly. Immediately regretting not just saying ‘nah man, just throw paint at that bitch.’ 

But much to your surprise. 

“Not at all, it’s a ‘cliche’ for a reason.” He states nonchalantly. “Love is powerful. Whether it’s the painful bit or the part that makes you feel untouchable.” 

A certain fondness hits his eyes that tells you he’s speaking from experience but you don’t pry.

“I’m glad you like the idea.” you smile, relief filling you after he doesn’t exhibit any signs of being uncomfortable. 

He claps his large palms together. “Shall we get started, Miss y/n?” His gaze once directed at the blank canvas, now fully on you. 

“Choose your weapon, Mr. Jungkook.” You feign a serious tone, giving him a small handful of various brushes. Keeping a few of your favorites for yourself. 

You push your box paints toward him indicating he can grab what he likes. Normally you’re a bit protective over your art supplies, seeing as not only are they stupid expensive, but you care for your tools a lot. You wouldn’t let your klutzy brother within a ten foot radius of your things when you were growing up and even now your blood boils if he’s anywhere near your expertly sorted colored pencils. But Jungkook is always gentle and seeing the way he meticulously places small globs of white, reds, and yellows onto his palette, you know you’ve made a good choice in trusting him. 

He steps slightly back letting you put the first ceremonial brush stroke of charcoal black diagonally across the upper most half of your canvas. He joins shortly after deciding to start with white in contrast with your black, laying down some bases for shapes and choosing to run his brush through to disturb the various lines you’ve made, dragging the two tones into a fading grey. 

As your mind wanders towards the way his slender tattooed fingers wrap delicately around the paint brush you quickly come to the conclusion that it’s time to play some background music. Absentmindedly sticking the handle of the brush between your teeth to grab your phone and open your music library.

“What kind of music do you like?” You turn to him, the thin strip of wood in your mouth giving you a slight lisp. 

“I’m not picky, play whatever you want.” he says warmly but his brow still furrowed with concentration while he finishes up his base layer. 

As his answer didn’t do much in the way of helping your quest, you opted for the safety of one of those throwback playlists spotify procures for their listeners, the 90’s one to be exact. Everybody loves some good nostalgia, and it may aid in the sincerity of your painting. Past emotions and whatnot. 

The first song that comes on after you hit shuffle is Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana and you hum in content. Jungkook on the other hand is pleasantly taken aback by your song choice. 

“Oh shit yeah! I love Nirvana!” He smiles brightly, taking his crinkling eyes off his work for the first time since you started. 

“Everybody loves Nirvana.” you tease him and roll your eyes at the possibility of him being one of those frat boys that ‘misses Kurt Cobain so much’ but can only name Smells Like Teen Spirit and maybe Aneurysm if you’re lucky. 

Jungkook, sensing your tone, smirks and runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “You think so, huh?” he bemuses, rolling up his sleeve to uncover this inked skin. Across his forearm is a quote reading ‘rather be dead than cool,’ a lyric from their song Stay Away. He watches you with a quirked brow.

“I stand corrected.” you hold your hands up in defense. Trying not to let the way his inked skin hugs his veins increases your heart rate become too apparent on your features. “You do indeed love Nirvana.” your emphasis on the word being placed differently this time.

“Never doubt me again y/n.” He eyes you suspiciously. “I’ll get more tattoos just to spite you.” He narrows his eyes to add validity to his semi-empty threat.

“I will never doubt you again, scouts honor.” you say playfully saluting him. 

“Now start the song over. Your lack of faith in me, made me miss half the song.” he points a finger at your phone.

“I can’t, I don’t have premium.” you let out a heavy sigh.

“What?! That’s dumb. You suffer through those god awful ads?” He screws his face up in disgust. 

“Eh, I don’t mind too much.” You shrug. “I don’t wanna spend the extra money every month.” 

“Okay, I guess that’s fair.” He squints at you as you pick up your brush again. “Why don’t you just use my account? I’ll text you my login.” He says fishing for his phone in his pocket. 

“That’s completely unnecessary.” You laugh, and wave for him to stop. “You’re already helping me out so much with this.” you gesture to the now less blank canvas in front of you.

“I really don’t mind. What’s the worst that could happen? We expand our music libraries? Oh no!” he pretends to gasp and you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’ll sleep better at night knowing I saved a soul from those creepy ass vitamin water commercials.” He chuckles.

“You really don’t have to.” Your eyes softening at his seemingly endless stream of kindness. 

“Already sent you the login, too late.” he says, sucking in a breath as if to say ‘what a shame.’

“Thank you, Jungkook.” you say as you gently grab his forearm and run your thumb over it.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “Back to work now!” he declares, sticking his paint brush, that at some point in your conversation tucked it’s way behind his ear, into his small mountain of yellow. 

You work like this together for a while. Humming along to your music, that is now playing off Jungkook’s phone after he insisted he didn’t wanna hear ‘Colonel Suck-My-Ass’ sing about his chicken deals one more time. The two of you working together seamlessly; the way you blend your colors and make textures complimenting each other nicely. Switching sides of the canvas every so often so it remains balanced. 

After about an hour of being immersed in your work Jungkook turns to you. “Noodle break?” He asks you frowning at his empty tummy.

Your brush stutters on the canvas at his words, your stomach not realizing it’s been hours since you’ve eaten until he mentions food. “That sounds wonderful, actually.” 

“One or two packets?” he asks making his way into the kitchen.

“Just one is good.” you smile, setting your brush into your cup of water. You follow him into the kitchen. “Where do you store your liquid?” you ask standing between the pantry and the fridge, looking lost.

“Fridge.” he answers giving his approval to let you grab the two of you some drinks.

“I see you guys finally went grocery shopping.” you chuckle at the butter and cartons of eggs in his fridge.

“What?- oh right, yeah. Finally dragged Hobi out earlier today.” His smile not quite meeting his eyes while he opens up three packets of ramen, and waits for the water to boil. 

“Can I steal a soda?” 

“Yeah, just not the sprite. Hobi can and will throw a fit.” his tone far more serious than the situation calls for.

“Well damn, okay.” you say and grab a coke for both of you. 

“Thank you.” He smiles and your fingertips brush perhaps a little too long when you hand him his drink. 

He pulls the tab, puts the cold metal to his lips and you watch the way his throat bobs up and down with every swig. When you feel yourself staring your ears heat up, and turn your gaze to the water starting to roll in the pot. 

As Jungkook is finishing up cooking the ramen, the song changes to Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, you let out a small gasp and start to sing along. He smiles at your apparent love for the song and starts to harmonize with you to encourage you to keep going. Which, much to his dismay, did the exact opposite.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you scold. “I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice!” 

“It’s alright, I guess.” He breathes out and rubs the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” He looks at you with those big doe eyes. And you swear you’ll only look at them for a couple more seconds, as not to fall under their spell. A half hearted oath at best. 

But you start to sing again, you tell yourself it’s to make the most of the song while it’s on but really, you just want to hear honeyed voice hit your ears again. And it does, eyes closed tightly and mouth wide to control his sound. You can’t hold a tune to save your life but the way he carries your sounds with his, it doesn’t matter. Your song is beautiful.

After your musical interruption, you take your bowls to the table and slurp away at your noodles. All the while Bread is at your heels begging ever so sweetly, which Jungkook scolds but ultimately ends up throwing him a noodle when his bowl is just about gone. 

You take your bowl to the sink but when you start rinsing Jungkook comes over to push you out of the way so he can take care of it himself. You stand your ground for a minute but lose the silent argument due to his advantage of stature. You mutter a small ‘fuck you’ before you return to the canvas, and he smiles contently to himself.

Jungkook joins you back at your station, stepping back for a moment to assess where the two of you left off and what he’d like to add. He lets his eyes run over the varying sized lines and the way they come together but also fight one another in some spots. Some colors as bright as the sun and others look like the depths of the ocean. All coming together in a way that only really makes sense to the two of you. 

You finished what was left of your drink and picked up your brush, dipping straight into your black paint for the second time since you started like you were on a mission. You drew a fluid line near the center curving over a few existing splotches, near the end of your brush stroke it became jagged and split off into several directions. A pessimist would call it a shatter, an optimist would call it several opportune paths, and a realist would probably just call it a painting. But Jungkook did none of those things.

“Y/n, have you ever been in love?” He asked as if he had only asked what time it was. He started swirling some colors together while he waited for an answer.

You blinked, trying not to show how much that question shocked you. “I suppose…” you breathed, actually struggling to come up with a real answer. “I mean, last time I was in a serious relationship was in highschool.” You trailed off. “I don’t know if I can say I’ve been in love but I’ve loved someone before… I feel like being in love sticks with you in a different way. More of a life experience than a life lesson.” You scrunched up your face a little, hoping he’d be satisfied with your answer even though you yourself weren’t.

He nodded, taking in your words. “I think being in love can be just as much a life lesson as ‘lesser relationships,’ if not more so.” He adds putting air quotes as not to come across the wrong way. “But hopefully you end up with more positive lessons than not.”  

“Yeah, you’re right. Like learning how you love and need to be loved. What you deserve and what you won’t put up with. Learn to let yourself be loved-” You stop your word vomit after that last comment, feeling a bit vulnerable. “Those kinds of things?” you let out a little laugh.

“Exactly.”

“Is it fair to assume that you have?” You question, hesitating slightly.

“That I have what?” 

“Been in love, dummy.” You laugh, strategically placing a light green around the canvas.

He pauses slightly. “Yeah, I have.” The same fondness that found his eyes earlier that day sets in again. Not in a painful or bitter way, you noted. But in the way you’d regard your favorite childhood memory.

“I didn’t rub salt in a wound, did I?” you tensed slightly incase you read him wrong.

“No no, you’re fine!” He reassures. “It was a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt like a bitch in the moment, but as they say, time heals all wounds.” he shrugs.

“Can I ask what happened?” You prompted, feeling a little braver this time.

“Well you know, same old story with high school sweethearts.” He paused to fix a spot he didn’t like. “She was a year older than me. She left for university. We tried long distance and after a few months we decided it was too hard. Nothing particularly spectacular.” He tells the story, for what you can tell is at least the thousandth time. “What about you and Mr. Not-Quite-In-Love?”

“Nothing, super special either. Unfortunately, the lessons I learned from him were less than positive. After the initial honeymoon phase, he didn’t treat me the best. Looking back I learned to know the level of respect I deserve, but in the moment his lack of just made me desperate to ‘earn’ it. It was a vicious cycle for about a year but things ended and I grew up. And like you said, ‘time heals all wounds.’” Jungkook looked at you with furrowed brows, not sure if he wants to hug you or the seventeen year old girl you used to be who would see herself as anything less than what she was. But he settled for the former.

He wrapped his arms around you, taking you by surprise. But you accept his embrace and smile against his shoulder. “I’m okay now Jungkook.” You giggle. “It was a long time ago and I learned from it.”

He pulls away. “I know, I’m just sorry it took that dickbag for you to know your worth.” he gives you a sheepish smile, and a fire in his eyes dulls when he looks at you.  

“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” you pat his arm before you both turn back to your respective parts of the canvas. 

“Hey, just cause I’m not a complete asshole, doesn’t mean I’m sweet.”

“I’m holding firm at you’re sweet, and you can’t change my mind.” You both laugh and return your full attention back to your work.

Your rhythm returns to where it was before you ate. Both of you humming along to whatever song is playing at the moment, using your paint brushes as microphones if a particularly good song came on. Exchanging a few words here and there. Each admiring the small things the other chooses to add to the work of art. You noticed Jungkook has a habit of biting his lips when he’s concentrating. Cute. 

Now here you finally are after another hour of blending, layering, and tweaking. Both of you put down your brushes down and stepped back slightly to admire what you’ve created. Letting out a sigh at your hard work, taking in the finalized piece. The way the colors run together or bump into one another. The juxtaposition of fluid lines being interrupted by jagged edges. The way the soberness of the colors you put down calm and soothe the firey and vibrant ones he laid down for you.

Ordinarily, when you finish a painting, you never quite feel done. There’s always one more thing you could fix, one more stroke you could add. But not this time. It’s finished. Breathtaking in a simple way. You’ve never felt such a sense of completeness when you set your brush down, and you can’t help but feel you have Jungkook to thank for it. The way his colors and brush work complemented yours was… for lack of a better term, a work of art. 

---

Jungkook puts down his brush, watching you lay down your final touches. Truth be told he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye the entire time. Checking in on you every so often when you’d put down your tool and furrow your brows in concentration. Smiling when you’d absentmindedly mumble to yourself about what you’re doing. He was in awe of how much of yourself you put down on the canvas, not entirely sure what wordless stories you were telling meant. Though that didn’t stop him from taking the puzzle pieces you laid down and arranging them into a y/n shaped jigsaw in his mind. Perhaps your fondness of calming colors was to tame the wild fire he could see within you. 

And just as quickly as you’d started, you were done, setting your brush down and smiling at what you saw in front of you. 

“Thank you so much, Jungkook.” You breathe still taking in the painting. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it is.” He says just above a whisper, never taking his eyes off your beaming profile. 

“Hm?” You turn to him. He looks into your eyes, once filled with fire are now a calm ocean. His gaze shifts to your lips after they form a confused pout at his silence, his body leading his brain when he leans toward you.

It’s now or never.

He leans in further looking into your eyes for any sign of apprehension before he cups your jaw in his paint stained hand. Finally taking the leap all at once when you lean into his touch. 

His lips are even softer than you imagined when they meld against yours. He pulls away slightly to look at you a question mark across his features. You put your hands flush against his hard chest and answer his question by reconnecting your lips with his with fervor and you feel him smile against you. He deepens the kiss, putting his free hand on your hip to pull you closer to his warm body. 

He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, testing the waters further. You mirror his action, noting that his lips taste faintly of strawberries. You slide your hands into his soft hair and curl your fingers into fists against his scalp making him groan into your mouth. 

His hand that held its feather like touch against your face leaves it’s place to join his other around your waist. His hands squeezing harshly at your hips, his fingers digging into the strip of skin your shirt rode up to expose, making you shiver against him despite your rising temperature. 

He pulls away to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, nudging your jaw with his nose gently to gain access to your neck. You suck in a breath when you pull him closer causing his teeth to graze your pulse point as his swollen lips leave rosey marks in their wake. He sucks harshly at the soft spot below your ear causing your nerves to flare and a moan to escape your lips. He groans in satisfaction at the way his actions affect you, running his hot tongue over your skin to soothe the marks he made. 

His hands move higher on your abdomen slipping just under the hem of your shirt, making you tense slightly under his calloused palms, he feels your shift and rubs his thumbs below your ribcage to relax your tensed muscles. His gentle fingers vastly opposing his flushed cheeks when he brings his face up to yours again, his hair already messy and his eyes dazed as he looks at your lips like they’re the first glass of water he’s seen in days. He crashes his lips back into yours hungrily causing you to squeak at his desperation. You disconnect your lips leaving almost no distance between you.

“Bedroom?” you ask lowley against his lips, your vocal chords betraying you making the word come out far more shaky and less sexy than you wanted. His shoulders flex under your hands at his request.

Jungkook slides his hands down your ass to squeeze the flesh in his hands when his finger tips graze the back of your thighs. 

“Up.” he says firmly, offering you free transport to his bed. You hop up, his strong arms hold you and you wrap your legs tightly around his narrow waist. He starts the small walk to his bedroom, and you try to ignore the way his stomach pressed against your clothed clit is providing the smallest amount of friction with each of his steps, instead deciding to direct your attention to him instead. You give a gentle open mouthed kiss to the small mole on the side of his neck, you make a small path sucking where his jaw meets his neck, and he hums deeply making his chest rumble against yours in response.

When you reach his room, the smell of his fabric softener fills your lungs as he presses your back against his now closed door. His hands trail from your ass, trusting you to hold yourself up around him, up your sides, he slides your arms from around his neck and to the wall until your hands are effectively pinned above your head. The air between you is heavy for a moment as his dark eyes take in how you look like this, your eyes starry as your chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move. 

He kisses you again, slower this time. You whimper into his mouth when his hips grind his hard dick into your clit. His thighs flexing under yours as he grinds up again harder, swallowing as many of your beautiful sounds as you’ll give him. 

He stops his hips and tucks his arms under you again to set you on his bed. 

You reach your shirt to pull it over your head but he stops you.

“Let me.” He says half a statement, half a question. 

You smile and say nothing but grant him permission by raising your arms above your head. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt grazing your skin making goosebumps blossom on your flesh as he pulls it up and over your head. He reaches for the clasp of your bra slowly and gently like you might break, as if he wasn’t just shoving you against his door with his cock. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out harshly when your hardened nipples are finally released to the cool air of his room.

He quickly strips off his hoodie revealing that he’s been painting without a shirt underneath the whole night. Your breath hitches as all the times you’d touched his arm or chest the hours prior, not knowing there was only a thin barrier between your fingers and his skin. You run your eyes over his bare chest and hard stomach, you knew he worked out but hot damn, those baggy clothes he wears does no justice to what’s under them. However he doesn’t give you much time to marvel before he reconnects his lips with yours leaning into you until your back is on his duvet, you spread your legs to make room for him to settle in between. 

His hot skin drags softly against your nipples as he descends down your frame to pepper kisses along the valley of your breasts. He licks his fingers to roll one of your nipples between his wet digits while he attaches his mouth the other, swirling his tongue in intoxicating circles. You sigh at the small relief his mouth is bringing you and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly when his teeth bite down onto your sensitive bud. You feel the bed bow slightly below you as his hips stutter at your action. He quickly tends to the small sting with his tongue. Giving a gentle kiss to your nipple as he pulls away. 

He sits up and hooks his fingers into your pants, but stops before tugging them down. “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely. 

“Very.” You say, your heart clenching at his concern and help him slide your pants to your ankles, eager to have his soft skin on yours again. 

He brings his lips to your neck again and you wrap your legs around his waist rocking your hips up to rub your neglected clit against his rigid cock that he has yet to spring free. The wet spot on your panties rubbing off onto his sweats. You moan into his ear at the small relief you’re able to bring yourself, arching your back further in attempt to get more friction and he chuckles against your skin.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks down at you and your feeble attempt to feel his cock. 

“Don’t wanna be patient. Want you to fuck me.” You say trying your best not to whine, as you reach for the waistband of his pants. 

He runs his tongue along his lip and leans down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, don’t worry beautiful, I will.” He moves your hands and rolls his hips into yours once to punctuate his sentence. “But I wanna taste you first.” He says and quickly sits back on his knees to slip your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him not worrying about where they land. 

He settles his shoulders under the back of your thighs and makes a path of open mouth kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, stopping right before your sex and inhaling deeply as he sucks a bruise into your skin, your face heats up and your hips shake in excitement. 

“You smell fucking delicious, sweetheart.” he looks up at you with soft doe eyes that completely contradict his filthy words. He lingers just a whisper away from where you want him and you roll your hips to meet his lips. He smirks again at your frustration moving his lips to your other knee to make a wet path up your other leg with his mouth, seeing how long he can push you. Stopping midthigh to speak again into your skin. 

“I wanna take my time with you sweets. Greedy little girls don’t get to cum on my tongue.” His eyes darken when they look up at you, his words sending electricity through your nerves and arousal dripping onto his sheets.

You opt for silently nodding as the only thing you could muster at the moment is a whine that you want to keep at bay. 

“Are you gonna take what I give you, sweetheart?” He says rubbing circles into your hip.

“Yes, Sir.” You breathe trying your best not to roll your hips into his touch and get scolded again. 

“Good girl.” He smiles at your compliance and finally gives you what you want.

He licks a long flat stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue and swirling it around your throbbing clit. Your thighs tighten around his head and he groans against you. 

“Taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He all but moans into your folds. He swears he could get off just like this, with his tongue buried in your cunt and his hips rocking his cock into his mattress. 

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. He obliges you and wraps his lips around your clit sucking harshly, crude slurping noises filling the room but both of you are too lost in the sensation to care. Your hips start rocking against his mouth again, this time your body fully taking a mind of its own, your climax being the only thing you can think about. 

“That’s my good girl, use my tongue to get off.” You moan louder at his words and speed up your movements, balling his hair into fists. As he looks up at you with lidded eyes, he gets lost, lost in your taste, lost in the way your sweaty chest heaves with your heavy breaths, lost in the way his name falls from your lips with your eyes screwed shut.

“I’m s-so fucking close!” your voice comes out in a strained moan cracking at the end of your sentence. 

“Cum for me beautiful, wanna taste your cum.” He says wrapping his lips around your clit again to pull your orgasm from you. He may have called you greedy, but he couldn’t get enough of the way your thighs shook around him. 

“Holy shit! Jungkook!” your orgasm hits you like a wave starting in your stomach and sending fire through your veins. Your hips stutter and Jungkook licks you languidly through your high. All the while your mouth mutters his name in an incoherent mantra. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and climbs over you leaning on his forearms, and captures your lips in his. You taste yourself on them and smile against his mouth.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He says placing soft kisses along your jaw. And you’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks flare at his comment. “Think you can still take my cock?” he says squeezing himself at the base through his pants. 

“God yes.” You say perhaps a little too enthusiastically and he chuckles at you. 

“You really are a greedy one, aren’t you sweetheart?” He says teasingly. “Let me get you ready first.” He says rubbing his thumb in small circles on your clit, your sensitivity makes you jump a little.

He looks down to watch the way your velvet walls swallow his fingers, but he stops his movement, realizing his hands are still covered in paint. 

“Shit.” He mutters almost silently. “I’ll be right back.” He says with a smile pecking your lips before he slips out his door. Closing it behind him just in case, as not to let Hobi unknowingly come home early only to find you spread eagle on his roommates bed. 

What the hell is he doing? Your eyebrows furrow, worried he’s gonna get some sort of convoluted sex toy. Which while you wouldn’t normally object, that’s a tad presumptuous on his part. 

Your mental ramble cut short and worries put to rest when he reenters the room with clean hands. He strips his sweats from his hips and climbs back over you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to get some sort of paint-chemical related rash on your… lady bits.” He says hesitantly breathing out a laugh against your cheek.

“While that’s incredibly considerate of you. That sentence didn’t do much for my ‘lady bits’.” you know what his venom filled tongue is capable of, so his childish use of words makes you giggle. 

He rolls his eyes at you and cups your face, pulling you in for another deep kiss. His hand snakes down between your legs and when his thumb connects with your clit you squeak and break the kiss.

“Your hands are freezing.” you say with more of a pout than you’re willing to admit. You presume he didn’t wanna make you wait too long so he washed his hands in cold water. 

“Why don’t you warm them up for me?” he quirks a brow and smirks. Bringing his hand up to your mouth and sticking his middle and ring finger between your lips. You happily wrap your lips around his digits; licking, sucking, and humming in content around them.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his boxers as he watches your cheeks hollow slightly around his slender fingers, resisting from pushing them deeper in your mouth and seeing how pretty you look when you gag for him. 

He removes his hand from your mouth, marveling at the string of saliva that follows it. He reaches down to tease your entrance letting your spit and arousal get you ready for his stretch. He slips his fingers into your dripping core and has to hold back from moaning at how well you hug him. 

“Your pussy is so tight, sweetheart.” He breathes. “Your sweet cunt is gonna squeeze me real well won’t it?” He says catching your bottom lip between his teeth. You can’t help but clench around his fingers. “That’s my good girl.” He says, his eyes darkening and he curls into your sweet spot, you moan at how quickly he seems to be learning your body. Like he could figure out exactly what makes you tick if you stayed in his bed for just a while longer.

He removes his fingers making you whimper. He slips his boxers down a little and uses your arousal and his precum to wet his dick. Your mouth waters and you clench around nothing at how beautiful he looks slowly pumping himself with furrowed brows, until now he’s done a good job of not showing how badly his body demands to be touched just as much as yours does. 

He lines himself with your entrance and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, fighting the urge to slam himself into you to the hilt. 

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he says mere millimeters away from slipping into you. 

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure and gasp at how close he is to giving you everything you wanted since he crashed his lips into yours at the easel. Or possibly before that.

That’s all he needed to hear before he pushed his cock past your entrance and into your wet pussy, the stretch he’s giving you making you thank him silently for insisting on warming you up first. 

“Fuck.” You both moan at how well you squeeze around him. He goes slow, inching in to give you time to adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper. He continues his slow pace breathing hot and thick against your neck. 

He sits up to watch how he disappears inside you. “Look how well you take my cock, sweetheart.” He says picking up some speed in his thrusts. You moan at how well he hits every spot in you that’s been left untouched tonight, his dirty words only further building the pressure in your pelvis. 

His thrusts become harder and you reach up you brace yourself on his biceps, his muscles flexing while he supports his weight above you. He angles his hips up slightly hitting your sweet spot perfectly, and you nearly yelp at the sensation, digging your nails into his arms making him hiss.

“Right there? Is that how your little pussy likes it?” He feigns a subtle innocence in his voice. Like he can’t see with his own eyes how well he’s fucking you.

“Yes, fuck! Please don��t stop.” you beg, mostly to get him to do just that, but also because of the sweaty fog his delicious cock has worked into your mind isn’t exactly allowing you to form the most intelligent of sentences.

He sits back on his knees and pushes one of your legs to your chest, his dick hitting deeper than you thought possible making your eyes roll back and your jaw slack. Your moans become uncontrollable and the words you’re attempting to say just come out in broken sounds.

“Such a good slut for me, look at you falling apart on my cock.” his voice almost a growl. “You gonna cum soon, sweetheart?” He says with a voice like silk to mask how close he is himself.

You can’t do more than nod fractically at his words in fear your voice will betray you. He rubs your clit with his thumb to earn your second climax from you.

And you do, your walls tighten around his cock but his pace doesn’t falter. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back. You cover your mouth to muffle a scream. Your orgasm ripping through you so hard you feel like you might burst. 

Jungkook hisses at how hard you’re squeezing him and fucks you through your high. He reaches to his headboard to fuck into you harder, being selfish for the first time tonight, using you to chase his own high.

“Where do you want it?” He says in a stifled whine.

“Cum inside Jungkook. I want you to fill me up.” You say pressing your nails into his chest. The overstimulation you feel in your core is worth every thrust when he finally lets go and fills you with his cum. His cock twitching as he slowly rides out his climax. 

He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Then rolls over to the other side of the bed, to allow both of you some cool air on your skin. 

“I hope I didn’t go too hard at the end there, are you okay?” He looks over at you with worried eyes.

“No. No it’s okay, I liked it.” you smile, your lungs and heart rate working hard to steady themselves.

After he’s caught his breath a little he reaches into his bedside table to get a small rag to wipe up some of his cum leaking out of you, and you suddenly feel very vulnerable at his thoughtful gesture. 

The post sex clarity hitting your mind, not quite in the way you hoped. As you lay there the height of what you two just did sending your mind go into overdrive.

Oh fuck. You run through the events of the night starting to panic a little. He’s my friend, how did this even happen? I wasn’t gonna do this. I wasn’t gonna let this get more complicated than my attraction to him already was. Shit, I’m an idiot. I mean he did kiss me, but… I can’t let this happen again. I don’t want this to end badly and have to move just because I think with my idiot vagina. It makes things too complicated. Okay, I have to end whatever that was now before things get even more complicated. He won’t mind right? He’s a college dude, he’s probably fine with just hittin’ it and quittin’ it. Yeah, everything is good. Friends can fuck once and then be good, it happens all the time. 

You sit up from his bed and run your hands through your hair a couple times in an attempt to tame it and start to pick up your clothes. 

“Are you okay?” He says, watching you as you attempt to find your underwear.

“Yeah, I’m good, just have an early class in the morning and I should probably get going.” you force a smile. 

“Oh, uh okay.” He says not quite convinced. Though you weren’t lying about that, you really did have a class in about seven hours.

“Hey um,” you hesitate, sliding your pants on just choosing to abandon your underwear. “This was just a one time thing, right?” you ask him, hating the way you said that. 

He senses your tone and feels a little twinge in his chest, but he ignores it, putting on a smile instead. “Yeah, definitely. Why do you ask?” 

“Okay, good.” Another twinge. “I just don’t want things to be too complicated, with us being neighbors and all…” You trail off, trying not to cringe at yourself. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He pauses, realizing for the first time that this could have negative consequences. “No worries, it’s forgotten. Just friends.” He reassures pulling his pants on.

“Just friends.” You smile and extend your hand to him. You shake on it. 

You pull your shirt over your head. 

“See you later, neighbor.” You say attempting to bring back the way things were just an hour ago. And you slip out his door.

He doesn’t walk you home like he normally does, and honestly you’re thankful. You just want to be back in your apartment where you can pretend that didn’t just happen. Even if that was one of the best fucks you've ever had, you're certainly not going to think about it. What is there to think about? Nothing happened.

You slip out his door, and into yours, met with Jimin munching in your kitchen, presumably after a party and your feet halt in their tracks. 

“Damn babe, you look positively wrecked.” He says with a knowing smirk.

“Jimin, I am so not in the mood for whatever you’re about to say.” you say exasperated.

“Oh, so I should save the ‘I told you so’? Would you rather get it in the morning?” He asks innocently, though he’s anything but.

“Preferably never.” You quip and slip into your bedroom.

Yeah, never is good, we’re just gonna pretend none of that happened.

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

Taglist: @taezeus​ @spoopysoph​ @gucci-prince-tae​ @jiminiesthiccthighs​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​ @hermiones-enchantment​ @irissilujm​ @flo-music​ @scalbra​ @sugarrimajins​ @embrace-themagic​ @megsmiiiii​ @nerdycookiemonster-1222​ @livorna​ 

[fandom-necromancer]

‘You come here often?’ ‘Well I work here.’ Part 4 

This was prompted by the lovely AO3 user LoafofCat! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [Read complete on AO3]

‘You know, if you just wanted to see me, there would be easier ways.’ ‘Bold of you to assume I come here only to see you.’ Nines smiled looking up to Gavin, who was just untying his apron and sitting down in front of him with a coffee of his own. ‘Am I wrong then?’, the human asked and Nines huffed, letting his head fall. ‘No’, he admitted. ‘Okay, so let me get this right’, Gavin laughed. ‘I had to propose to my boss to get thirium drinks on the menu as a “costumer asked for it” and it might help us crank those numbers up, just so you could plant your ass here in your break?’ ‘It did get you more costumers though’, Nines shrugged pointing to the other tables. ‘That’s not- Nines, do you think I care about this shop? I just work here; I don’t care if… You know what? Screw it. Nice to see you, Nines.’ ‘Nice to see you too’, the android chuckled. ‘How are you?’ ‘Can’t complain. What do you have there?’

Nines looked down on the tablet in his hands. ‘Oh, just work. A case.’ ‘You are on your break and brought work?’, Gavin asked, looking at him sceptically. ‘Tina was right, you really are me just with a little less personality.’ ‘Being nice and polite doesn’t mean not having a personality. You were just an asshole.’ ‘What technically is a personality trait’, Gavin argued, taking a sip from his coffee. ‘Now come on, tell me about your case!’ Nines frowned. ‘I really can’t tell you, it’s-‘ ‘Confidential, I get it. But come on, I’m a former cop I can keep a secret. For old time’s sake.’ The android eyed Gavin and how he looked so eager to get information. It was cute in a way, how he looked in between his eyes and the tablet in his hands. Maybe that’s why Nines showed weakness and caved in.

‘Okay, but you really keep this to yourself. We are investigating a series of murders. They don’t have anything in common in regard to victims or how the deed was done or staged, but at every crime-scene we found the picture of this man.’ Nines flipped through the pictures of the different crime-scenes until he reached a few portraits. They weren’t really the kind of pictures you would expect of a cold-blooded serial-killer. Not after the few flashes of gruesome staging, Gavin caught a glimpse of as Nines had searched for these. They all portrayed a middle-aged man with a small belly you could easily get if you worked long hours in the office and were too exhausted afterwards to do sports. The pictures looked like they were ripped right out of a family photo-album. The guy was at the beach smiling at the camera with a cocktail in hand. The next one showed him in what Gavin supposed to be his home with a small dog on his lap. Then next to a ridiculously oversized barbeque grill all shiny chrome and reds.

Gavin lifted a brow at Nines. ‘Yeah, sorry Nines, but no way this is your killer.’ ‘I ruled it out as unlikely, too’, the android nodded. ‘Although you can never know with people. At the very least it’s a lead. Maybe the killer knows this man. As much as this is a lead, it is also our only link.’ Gavin shrugged, leaning back. ‘Well, why haven’t you solved it then? I mean, you can scan his face and get a name, age, address, likely even social media as creepy as they designed you and Connor. No offense there.’ Nines sighed. ‘As creepy as I might be designed, my scanner has its limits too. I can’t get a name to this man, not even an age. Scanning him just returns an error. Manual research in the police databanks also hasn’t brought up anything yet. We also can’t exactly go around asking for this man. If he is the serial killer, as unlikely as it might seem, we would only alert him.’ Gavin nodded absent-mindedly, staring at the photo, pulling the tablet closer to zoom in on some details. ‘Honestly?’, Nines said frustratedly. ‘We’re all currently waiting for the forensics to find more evidence on the bodies. It’s quite frustrating, but at the same time no one really minds if I spend a bit longer on my break with you.’

Gavin couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated ‘Awww’ at that, Nines reprimanded with an annoyed but amused look. ‘Nah, really thanks, looking at your tablet for what, ten minutes? This was already more exciting than the whole damn month. The most action I had was a drunk guy I had to escort out because everyone else was too chicken shit to risk getting vomited on.’ ‘Understandable.’ ‘Not the point. I mean, I’m happy here, I guess. It is decent money and I have more time for my cats at home. Also, maybe not being confronted with what humans are capable of is nice for a while. But I can basically feel my brain rot here.’ ‘That is also understandable’, Nines huffed. ‘Maybe search for some outside work activity? Something new to learn and keep you active mentally?’ ‘Like what? Knitting?’ ‘If you want that?’ ‘You know what? Maybe not the worst idea. I’ll see if I can find anything and when I have I will-‘

Nines never got to find out what Gavin would do afterwards, as his colleagues called him, pointing at the growing queue. The human sighed. ‘Well, my call to duty’, he announced and walked over to press a quick kiss to the android’s temple. ‘Was nice chatting with you, babe. Good luck with your case.’ ‘Yeah, you too.’

-

It was a slow Tuesday, without many costumers coming in. The rush of office workers in their break had already stormed the small shop and rushed back to their workplace and now it was mostly a few students and the regular old granny circle in the front judging people and eating cake. Living the life. Gavin had already washed the entire stack of mugs twice now and was out of work, except for manipulating the radio until his co-workers began to wonder why the last song had been so long and found him messing with the system. Then he walked around, collecting discarded newspapers and cleaning the tables while his co-worker told him she would be out for a cigarette. He nodded and continued working until a sole costumer entered. Gavin quickly rubbed the table dry and hurried over, throwing the man an extra smile just in case he wanted to complain about having to wait a few seconds. ‘What can I do for you?’ ‘I’d like a coffee, please. Medium, to go with cream but no sugar.’ ‘Coming right up.’ Gavin was already going through the motions of preparing the coffee and turned around to hand it over. ‘Anything else…’ He trailed off, as he saw the man’s face, but he seemingly hadn’t noticed his slip. ‘No, thank you, that would be all.’

Gavin watched him leave again and was trying to decide what to do next. He couldn’t just leave; he was at work after all. But he couldn’t do nothing either. Frantically he looked through the shop and, in the end, shook his head, rushing past the counter. Outside his co-worker stopped him. ‘Gavin? What are you doing?’ Gavin blinked, but came up with an excuse fast enough: ‘Dude forgot his wallet. Can you take over for a moment? Sorry!’ ‘Sure, no problem. Just hurry, he’s already behind the corner.’

Gavin did hurry. But not to run after the man, but to pull out his phone. ‘Nines? Yes, hi babe I know you are at work, shut up, this is work. Li-Listen, yes. Shut up for just a second! I’m pursuing your office killer. Ye-Yes, exactly, the beach holiday photo model with the ugliest dog I’ve seen in my life. Now will you phcking get your ass here? I will pursue him you can track my phone. Wh- come on, it can’t be that dangerous, I’m still well trained now stop worrying and move your ass!’

He had become louder than he wanted and had caused the man he wanted to follow inconspicuously to turn around. He wasn’t really unsuspicious though, dressed in the silly coffee-shop apron and shouting at someone on the phone. Trying to play it down, Gavin instead tried the open approach: ‘Hey, you forgot your wallet!’ It only caused the man to bolt. So much for being a friendly, costumer-orientated employee. Gavin pushed it all to hell, lifting up his apron and running after the man. So, he did had dirt on him. Gavin followed him down the street and used a streetlight to take the corner with more speed. A mistake he later would regret as he ran face first into a fist that definitely wasn’t human. Seeing stars, he looked up from where he had fallen against the building. The chubby man was surprisingly agile and fast, unfitting to his overall completely average looks. And Gavin saw why: The skin where the man had punched him had retracted to show stern white underneath. The man was an android? Where the hell did he get all these modifications from? Cyberlife had designed all androids to be phcking inhuman models. But maybe that had been the plan. Being as inconspicuous as possible. Remembering the brief flashes of crime-scenes that made him pale. Oh no.

‘How the hell did some barista recognise me, huh?’, the android asked, holding Gavin by the throat, his toes barely touching the ground. ‘You are all over the news!’, Gavin tried. ‘I’m not. None of my doings have even been published yet.’ ‘Well, I was a cop once.’ ‘Were you? Well, who is your contact then? If you were a cop once.’ Gavin really hoped someone would turn the corner and see this to help him. Because the way the android’s hand clenched around his throat, lack of oxygen could soon be his least concern. ‘My boyfriend, okay? But I will never tell you his name!’ ‘Your boyfriend? Alright, thank you. After I killed you, I will go to him next. See if I can’t keep this information from spreading.

The pressure on his throat became almost unbearable, as Gavin saw a flash of white behind the man. ‘I highly doubt that’, Nines voice sounded through the alley and Gavin could see the gun aimed at his head. ‘Now let him down and go.’ The android in front of Gavin cursed, but complied. ‘You are arrested for the suspected murder of three people, as well as the attempted murder of this man. Turn around, hands behind your back.’ Nines handcuffed him, reading him his rights before making the call to the station to send a car.

‘Gavin, that was extremely reckless of you.’ ‘Hey, I got your killer, right?’, Gavin croaked with a cocky grin while rubbing his throat. ‘I solved a case you would have waited weeks on before even getting close to the guy.’ ‘Oh, please, I’m the most advanced android there is. I would have gotten him.’ ‘Yeah, but it was the ex-detective they threw out to replace with you that caught him in the end.  Please, rub that into Fowler’s face for me, would you?’ ‘I most certainly won’t’, Nines stated. ‘I will emphasize your involvement in this case though, what at least should keep your employer off your ass.’ ‘Oh, what would I do without you?’ The android in Nines grip struggled against him, causing Nines to return his attention to him. ‘Urgh, get a room, you two!’ ‘Excellent idea actually. Gavin, how about after our shifts ended, we meet at my place? You know? To celebrate.’ ‘Oh, I’d love to’, Gavin grinned and winked the RK900.

The captive criminal got a glimpse of the gesture and regretted it deeply. ‘Oh, please, just kill me, would you?’

[bouncydragon]

Revenge Is Best Served With Catnip

Here it is now @snarkyship ! I hope you like it.

So, basically, this is a sequel to my original Random story and is based on a convo snarkyship and I had some time ago. Once again, I couldn’t get it out of my head so naturally I had to write it.

I hope you like this. It’s silly and soft.

***

It could've been such a nice evening. 

Tony and Loki were cuddled up on their couch, watching some silly movie to which they didn't pay much attention anyway. Loki was settled on top of Tony, with his head under his arc reactor and just generally very comfortable. Tony made for a good pillow. Considering that Tony was way shorter than Loki though, it should've been the other way around but this was their usual position. The likelihood of them changing it up was very small, almost non-existent. 

Tony, as he often did when they were lying like this, was running his fingers through Loki's hair. It was so gentle and soothing that Loki instinctively closed his eyes. And everything could've been so wonderful if not for one tiny detail that he hadn't considered. He really should've after what had happened with Captain Rogers though. 

You see, some weeks ago, Loki had finally given in and had accepted their cat's—Random—love and affection for him. And Tony had been happy about that on one hand. But on the other, he had been annoyed because Loki ended up spending more time with Random than with Tony. So Tony had turned an entire floor of the tower into a literal cat playground. Like the room Random had on Tony's and Loki's floor but with a lot more gimmicks, more than one cat really needed. It was an attempt at snatching some time with Loki. It had backfired though because Loki spent most of his time on that floor now. 

Plus, Loki was a shapeshifter and when he felt particularly bored, he turned into a cat and had fun on the cat playground himself. Of course Random was with him. Maybe, Loki thought, since Random originally came from Asgard, he was a bit magical. Maybe he had been able to somehow sense that Loki was magical and a shapeshifter and that was the reason for the cat's obsession with him. But on the other hand, maybe Random was just a normal black cat that had just picked Loki as his favourite human and that's it. Maybe. 

It didn't matter anyway. 

Loki, when in cat-form, enjoyed running around the cat playground. Especially because he made himself look exactly like Random. Every time Tony came to the playground and found two identical cats, he was a bit frustrated. Loki thought it was funny how Tony tried to figure out which cat was his boyfriend. He managed eventually, not that it mattered really.

And he would never admit to it outright, but Loki loved it when Tony picked him up and cuddled with him, or curling up in Tony's lap and purring while Tony petted him. 

Okay, maybe Loki enjoyed being a cat a tad too much sometimes. There were a lot of pros to it, alright. 

But because of that, Loki now found himself in an embarrassing situation. 

Because he somehow had forgotten he wasn't a cat right now. 

Tony's fingers running soothingly through his hair made Loki so relaxed and content that he started to purr. 

Purr. Like a cat. Like an actual cat. 

Like he had done dozens of times before. But this time he wasn't a cat. He needed to emphasize that minor detail. 

At first he didn't even register that he was in fact making those sounds. Until Tony stopped combing through his hair and started laughing. 

"I knew it!" Tony exclaimed, still laughing. 

Loki really could've kicked himself. And then Tony. And then also smacked him. Just for good measure, you know. He kinda deserved it right now. 

Why did this happen to him? It was embarrassing. 

"I… I don't…," he tried but Tony cut him off. 

"Don't even try, kitten." 

Oh no, he did not just call him kitten. Loki cringed and pushed himself up so he could look at Tony. The man was smirking! So smug. It would've been incredibly sexy if it didn't annoy him so much right now. 

"Did you just… call me kitten?" Loki asked in a dangerously low voice. 

Tony's grin widened. "Yes, yes I did." 

That man had no sense of self-preservation. Seriously, he was lucky that Loki loved him. If he wouldn't, Tony would be in hell of a lot of trouble right now. 

Instead of cursing or straight-up murdering him, Loki simply stared at him and then got up from the couch. Tony looked at him confused as he walked away. 

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, sounding confused and like a kicked puppy at the same time. 

Oh, that tone. Loki knew it. It made him weak, and Tony knew that. But it wouldn't work this time. 

"Nowhere," Loki just answered. 

"Lokes! C'mon!" Tony went after him. "I'm sorry," he said when he caught up with him and grabbed his shoulders. "But… you purred! That is cute as fuck." 

Loki looked at him for a moment longer and then wiggled free of his hold. "You're sleeping on the couch." 

Then he made his way to their bedroom and closed the door behind him. 

Tony stared in disbelief. "Oh c'mon! You can't really be mad at me now!" 

Silence. 

Of course. 

Damn. 

Tony slumped down on the couch and let out a long sigh. Why was Loki mad at him now? A bit upset he would've understood but outright 'you sleep on the couch' mad? That didn't make sense to Tony. Also, Loki had purred! Like a cat! That really was adorable as fuck! And funny, which is why Tony had laughed. Maybe that's what Loki was mad about? He had been ridiculed all his life and understandably wouldn't like being laughed about. But he should know that Tony didn't mean it in a bad way. 

There was no point in wondering about it now. Maybe in the morning everything would look different. 

So Tony undressed and lied down on the couch. 

***

Loki smiled down at his sleeping boyfriend on the couch. Well, half on the couch because Tony's upper body had slipped off it. He looked quite cute like that, to be fair. 

Loki had actually expected Tony to come to the bedroom in the middle of the night. He hadn't locked the door, after all. Waking up without Tony curled around him was strange and Loki didn't like it. Tony's weight and mere presence was comforting. 

Okay, so maybe he had overreacted last night but he just didn't like being laughed about. He'd had over thousand years of that from his supposed friends on Asgard, he didn't need it from his lover. He knew that Tony would never intentionally hurt him or make him uncomfortable. But in that moment Loki just hadn't been able to think rationally. He had been reminded of all the malicious mocking and bullying he had endured on Asgard. 

Loki sighed and let Tony sleep a few minutes longer. Instead, he walked to the kitchen to make coffee and feed Random. While the coffee was running, Loki thought about what had happened last night. 

He had actually purred, like a cat. He probably should've expected something like that to happen but it was still embarrassing. He had just forgotten that he wasn't in cat-form. Which meant that he really was spending way too much time as a cat to mess with Tony. 

It was so much fun though. 

But he understood why it frustrated Tony. Although, he didn't complain, at least not for long. Loki was sure that he secretly liked it, cuddling with Loki in cat-form. Loki certainly enjoyed it. Which was probably why he had purred last night. Each time he thought about it, he felt embarrassed again. 

Loki had made noises of content before. A hum or something like that when Tony was once again being so damn affectionate. It always made Loki weak because he didn't know how to handle it. Tony was the first person to ever be that affectionate with him. 

And Loki loved it. 

Of course he did. 

But purring… That was something completely different. It was… strange. Weird. Whatever. And he just knew that Tony wouldn't let it go. Not in a million years. 

How could he have forgotten that he wasn't in cat-form? Was it because he had been so comfortable? But he had been that comfortable before and hadn't purred. So that didn't make much sense to him. What other explanation was there though? 

Loki's thoughts were interrupted by the tell-tale beep of the coffee machine being done and got Tony's favourite mug out of the dishwasher. He poured coffee in it and fixed it with a bit of sugar and cream. 

His gaze fell to Random on the floor who was chewing very loudly. "Wretched creature," Loki mumbled, furrowing his brows. 

Random paused his eating to look at Loki and meowed at him. 

"Whatever," Loki grunted and went over to the couch with Tony's coffee. 

Great, now he was talking to the cat. He knew accepting its devotion and love for him had been a bad idea. Now it was too late. 

Loki sat down on the coffee table and put the coffee down next to him before he gently shook Tony awake. Or tried to, at least. How could that man sleep that tight in that position? 

Loki rolled his eyes and shook him awake a little less gently. 

Tony groaned and fell off the couch. 

He blinked a few times and it took him a few moments to register that, first of all, he was on the floor, and secondly, Loki was looking down at him with that signature raised eyebrow. 

And it took him another moment to burst out "LOKI!" 

"What are you doing?" Loki asked and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Tony furrowed his brows confused as he got up off the floor and sat down on the couch. "What do you mean?" 

"You slept on the couch." 

Now it was Tony's time to raise an eyebrow. "You told me to, remember?" 

Loki sighed. "If I'd actually wanted you to sleep on the couch, I would've locked the door." 

"Loki." Tony moved to the edge of the couch and put his hands on his lover's knees. "I'm sorry." 

"It's okay," Loki answered looking down at Tony's hands. He unfolded his arms and put his hands over Tony's. 

"No it isn't. I upset you," Tony pointed out. "I didn't mean to." 

"I know you didn't." Loki looked up at Tony. "I overreacted. I just… I just don't like being laughed about." 

"I know."

Tony pulled Loki into a hug and kissed his forehead. So gentle, so loving. Loki sighed and rested his head against Tony's shoulder. Tony's hand gently ran up and down his back as he whispered sweet nothings into Loki's ear. 

"I'm sorry I laughed," he eventually said and pulled away a little to cup Loki's face in his hands. "But you purred and it was really adorable." 

Loki groaned and blushed. 

"Just as adorable as you blushing," Tony chuckled. "You really don't need to be embarrassed." 

Loki sighed and reached for the mug next to him. "I made you coffee," he stated the obvious as he handed it to Tony. 

Tony smiled and kissed Loki before he took the mug from him and took a sip, which was followed by a very satisfied sigh.

Loki smiled at him and shook his head. 

***

You know, after that morning, everything could've gone back to normal. But Tony, being the little shit he was sometimes, just wouldn't let Loki's accidental purring go. 

Of course he wouldn't. Loki wouldn't either, to be fair. 

That's why they worked. They were similar in a lot of things. They understood each other and knew what the other needed in certain moments. 

Loki loved Tony. More than anything. 

But sometimes the guy really got on his nerves. 

It's been a few days since Loki's accidental purring and Tony had apparently set his mind on making him do it again. But not in the privacy of their penthouse, but instead when they were with the other Avengers. 

(Just for the record, Loki was not part of the Avengers. He was "a villain that against his better judgment occasionally helped the heroes because they'd be utterly lost without him". He was a sucker for long titles, okay?) 

So far he hadn't succeeded and Loki wouldn't let him. He wouldn't let himself become that comfortable again when not alone. It was annoying and it had gotten so far that Loki refused to sit next to Tony when they were having a movie night, which bothered him greatly because he really liked to cuddle with Tony. But not if he was determined to make him purr in front of everyone. 

Tony thought his behaviour was quite hilarious. Jerk. Really, currently Loki was more annoyed with Tony than he was in love with him. 

And Loki was about to reach his boiling point. 

They were sitting on the couch in the common area waiting for the rest of the team. It was Friday, so movie night. For some inexplicable reason, Clint had picked a Disney movie for them to watch. Anyways, Tony and Loki had set up the drinks and snacks and had already put the disc in the player. Now Loki was sitting on one end of the couch while Tony was on the other end. 

"Babe, you're being ridiculous," Tony sighed and moved closer. 

"Stay where you are, you jerk," Loki told him but didn't move away either. 

"Lokes. Loki." Tony moved ever closer and reached for Loki's hand. "C'mon. I won't try. I promise." 

"I don't believe a word you're saying." 

Tony sighed and put an arm around Loki. He let the fingers of his other hand run idly along his shoulder and then moved down and over his exposed collarbone. Loki shuddered. Curse that man. Curse him and his skilled fingers. How did he always manage to make Loki feel so weak by just caressing some skin? That wasn't fair. Loki was already weak for that asshole. Why did he have to tease him relentlessly as well? 

"Loki, c'mon," Tony drawled in a sickly sweet voice. 

Aw dammit. The fingers and that voice? He really pulled all cards right now just to make Loki give in to him. 

Don't give in, Loki told himself. Easier said than done, really. 

Tony moved even closer, any more and he'd be sitting in Loki's lap. Loki felt Tony's lips against his ear, his hot breath ghosting over his skin and making him shudder again. 

Seriously, curse that man. 

Tony pressed a fleeting kiss to Loki's neck and then his arm disappeared from around Loki's shoulders. His hand found itself tangled in Loki's soft curls, gently playing with them. His other hand moved further down and settled on Loki's waist. A gentle yet solid grip. 

Oh no. 

Loki could feel it. He was melting into Tony. He automatically closed his eyes and leaned into his lover's embrace. The hand playing with his hair, the hand on his waist which was now kneading gently. It was like Tony wanted to seduce him and not just make him purr. 

Okay, maybe he did have that intention. That was even worse because they wouldn't be alone for much longer. 

"Loki," Tony whispered hotly against his ear. "C'mon. Please. For me." 

What was this? How To Seduce Your Upset Boyfriend 101? Loki really shouldn't give in to Tony. He really shouldn't feel as comfortable as he did right now. But Tony kept on caressing his neck with his oh so soft lips (curse them) and playing with his hair and slowly running his other hand up and down his side now (curse his hands too). Loki was a sucker for this. He loved it. He always had. And it was just truly evil and devious to use that against him now. 

When had this game between them gone from making Loki accidentally purr like a cat again to trying to seduce him? 

Maybe Tony was just horny. 

Well, but Loki was certainly not in the mood. Frankly, Tony annoyed him with his teasing. Normally, he'd like it. But these past few days it was utterly infuriating. Tony was being a little shit. 

And Loki had enough of it. He put his hands on Tony's chest and pushed him away. Tony looked at him confused. Loki just grinned at him wickedly and waved his hand which was glowing with green magic. 

And thus Tony was turned into a red tabby cat. 

Let's see how his dear lover would cope with that. At least Loki would get some peace now. No more teasing. 

Cat-Tony looked at him utterly dumbfounded and then at himself. He lifted each of his paws and inspected them, then his tail. He flicked each of his ears and shook himself, then turned around himself a few times before he sat down again and let out a tiny meow. It was just one meow but it was clear what he was trying to get across. 

"What the fuck have you done to me?!" 

Loki grinned and gently patted his head. "That's what you get for teasing me." 

The meow he got as an answer was basically Tony yelling at him. Then he put his paw on Loki's hand and looked up at him with huge green eyes. Loki was reminded of that animation movie Tony had forced him to watch. What was the name again? Shrek? Anyway, there was a cat dressed like Zorro in it and he often made those eyes. Tony probably hoped that this move would work on Loki as well. 

Well, he'd be disappointed. 

Tony jumped into his lap and stood on his back legs, pressing his front paws to Loki's chest and loudly yelled at him. The corners of Loki's mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. Tony thought his accidental purring was cute? Well, Tony as a cat was even better. So Loki pulled out his phone and took a picture of him, causing Cat-Tony to paw at the phone obviously disgruntled. 

It was adorable. 

"Sir," sounded JARVIS' voice from above him. "Was this really necessary?" 

Loki looked up and grinned. "Yes, it absolutely was." 

He grinned at Cat-Tony and then removed him from his lap so he could get up and get a beer from the fridge. Tony protested loudly and followed him. 

As Loki opened the fridge and got out a bottle, he heard the elevator and the lively chatter of the other Avengers. He opened his bottle and took a sip from it (wonderfully cold), then looked at the others. 

"Anyone want one?" he asked, smiling. 

Clint immediately came over and Loki handed him an opened bottle. Nobody paid attention to the strange red cat that was now on the kitchen counter, glaring at Loki very displeased. 

Well, no one except for Steve. 

"Loki, where's Tony?" he asked as he walked over to get a beer himself. 

Loki grinned and pointed at Cat-Tony. Steve's eyes widened. 

"You turned him into a cat?!" he exclaimed shocked and stared at the cat that used to be his teammate. "Why?!" 

"He was being a little shit," Loki explained matter-of-factly, like that explained absolutely everything, and took another large sip from his beer. 

Everyone stared at him shocked and surprised. None of them would have ever thought that Tony could do anything to deserve this kind of punishment. They had thought that he had immunity because he was Loki's boyfriend. 

They had been wrong, apparently. 

"What did he do to justify turning him into a cat?" Natasha asked as she sat down on the couch. 

Loki was quiet for a moment and moved a few steps away from Cat-Tony, who was trying to climb onto his shoulders. 

"That is between him and me," Loki eventually answered and finished his beer in a few long gulps. He let out a satisfied gasp and put the bottle in the bin. 

"Anyway, how about we start the movie now? What's it called?" he said as he walked over to the couch, with Cat-Tony hot on his heels, and sat down next to Clint. 

Cat-Tony jumped into Loki's lap, turned around himself a few times and then curled into a ball there. Loki raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. That's fair. He'd done the same thing several times. Maybe turning Tony into a cat hadn't been such a good idea. He wouldn't change it now though. He'd let him live like that for a few days. See what would happen. 

They started the movie and Loki absentmindedly started to stroke the ball of fur that was his boyfriend in cat-form. Cat-Tony started purring almost immediately and curled further into himself, if that was even possible. He was a knot. Typical cat. 

***

A week went by with Tony being a cat. And Loki realised that it really might've been a stupid idea. 

Cat-Tony was much like Random. He followed Loki around everywhere he went and very persistently demanded pats, cuddles and belly rubs. 

He especially liked to do that when Loki was settling down with a glass of wine and a book. Give it five minutes tops and he had a loudly purring red cat curled up in his lap. If he was especially unlucky, Random joined in on the fun. 

Loki wasn't sure what was worse. Tony's relentless teasing because he had accidentally purred once, or this. Cat-Tony was even more irritating than Human-Tony. How was that even possible? 

He was also quite convinced that Tony enjoyed this a little too much. He was being a little shit, again. Loki should've really expected that. 

Loki was lying on their couch, his legs on the back of it and his head dangling over the edge of it when he was greeted with the cute, upside-down face of Cat-Tony, who decided that this was the perfect opportunity to run his rough cat tongue over Loki's face. 

Of course. 

Loki cringed. "Alright alright. Stop," he sighed. "I'll turn you back. Just stop licking my face." 

His hand started glowing green with his magic and with a wave of it Tony turned back into his irritating, lovely, ridiculously good-looking human self. 

"Oh thank God!" Tony exclaimed and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Loki was still upside-down on the couch and looked at Tony. He made for a good view from this angle too. That wasn't fair. 

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "You never complained about me licking you before," he said, smirking. 

Loki fell off the couch. 

"That's something totally different!" he pointed out as he got back up. 

"Uh-huh," Tony hummed. Then he rather violently poked Loki in his chest. "Why the fuck did you do that to me?!" 

Loki shrugged. "You deserved it." He slumped down on the couch. "In retrospect, I should've turned you into something less… infuriating. A cat fits you too well." 

"So you regret what you did?" 

"No, not at all," Loki said grinning up at Tony. 

Tony raised an eyebrow and then climbed into Loki's lap, straddling him. Loki wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him in closer as Tony ran his hands through his hair. Tony leaned in close and kissed Loki softly before he rested his head on his shoulder while Loki ran his fingers slowly and soothingly along Tony's spine. 

It really hadn't been his intention. He had just missed having his human boyfriend in his arms. That's why he ran his hands over Tony's back, that's why he let his lips brush against the nape of Tony's neck. 

But he hadn't expected what happened next. 

It was still extremely satisfying though. 

Because Tony slowly melted into Loki's embrace and then… he purred. 

Purred like a cat.

Loki froze and just stared blankly ahead before he burst into laughter. Oh how the tables had turned. Tony groaned and Loki didn't need to see it to know that he was blushing. Tony pressed his face into Loki's shoulder. 

"Revenge is sweet," Loki chuckled and held Tony close to him as he shifted them until Tony was lying underneath him on the couch. "Say meow, love," he teased and grinned at his lover. 

Tony rolled his eyes. "You first, kitten." 

Loki raised an eyebrow and then started laughing again. He lay down on top of Tony and rested his head next to Tony's. 

Tony was silent for a moment and then chuckled. He wrapped his arms around Loki and kissed the top of his head. 

"You don't tease me and I don't tease you?" Tony suggested as he gently ran a hand over Loki's back. 

Loki hummed non-committal. "I enjoy teasing you too much though. And we both know that you do too." Tony nodded. "So how about we only tease each other when we're alone in our own space." 

"Sounds fair," Tony agreed smiling and snuck a hand under Loki's shirt. "Shall we start now then?" 

Loki pushed himself up to look at Tony and smiled down at him. "Of course," he said and then claimed Tony's lips in a passionate yet soft kiss. 

THE END

[dawninlatin]

We’re not getting a pet, love

Part of the Manorian Teacher AU

This was requested by @biaguiar11​. Sorry for taking so long, hope you like it:)

Words: 2307

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/N: I would like to dedicate this fic to my cat, Chewbacca. Had you not been so adorable this morning, this piece of shit never would have existed. *tears up* I love you man<3<3

Also feel free to leave a comment, telling me what you think;)

«Come on!»

«No.»

«Manon, please.» Dorian tried his very best to make sad-puppy eyes at his girlfriend, pouting his lip, all of it to convince her that they simply had to get a cat.

«We’re not getting a cat, and if you send me one more GIF of cute kittens I will block you on all social media.» She was glaring at him from across the counter, and Dorian would be lying if he said it didn’t terrify him slightly.

They’d been having this discussion for weeks, but she wouldn’t budge. Dorian insisted that it was the natural step to take next in their relationship - they’d recently bought a house - and honestly, every home should have a cat.

Too bad Manon didn’t agree.

«But just imagine a teeny, tiny, adorable kitten curling up against you, with it’s tiny paws and tiny, little face.» The image was so adorable it made Dorian tear up a little.

Manon shook her head, giving him an annoyed look. «Kittens aren’t adorable. They’re cunning, vicious little creatures that will kill you in your sleep,» she said, shuddering.

«Don’t tell me the Manon Blackbeak is afraid of kittens?» 

«Pfft, I’m not afraid of kittens,» Manon claimed, but Dorian noticed the way she didn’t meet his eyes, the way she bit her lip. His girlfriend was many things, but a good liar was not one of them. 

Dorian was baffled. Even if he hated that word, it was the only way to truly describe how shocked he was at this admittance. She was the one who killed the spiders in their relationship, after all. «So getting a pet snake is fine with you, but you’re afraid of a cat?»

Last week, when they’d had the exact same argument, Manon had suggested that if he was so eager to get a pet, they could get a snake. He knew she’d said it just to shut him up, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he one day came home to them having a pet snake. The mere idea had him feeling a little sick. He’d told her as much then, but Manon had only grinned like a mad woman.

No way were they getting a snake.

«I’m done with this discussion,» was all she said before disappearing up the stairs.

Dorian wasn’t done though, and he stood up, trailing after her, all the way into their bedroom, where he found her putting away laundry. She always started cleaning when she was angry.

«Why can’t we get a cat?» he whined.

«I’m allergic,» she said, her words blunt. She didn’t even turn around to look at him, instead walking into the adjoining bathroom with a pile of clothes.

Flopping onto the bed, Dorian said, «We both know you’re not allergic.» He gave her a pointed stare as she reentered the room, stopping in the doorway.

«I just don’t understand why you absolutely have to get a cat.»

«I just don’t understand why you absolutely refuse to get a cat.» Dorian pouted once more, fluttering his eyelashes for extra effect.

Manon let out a long, annoyed sigh, but he knew her anger had faded based on the faint smile playing on her lips.

«Pets are a lot of work, Dorian. We’re busy enough as it is.»

This, at least, was an argument he had prepared for. «It isn’t. All you have to do is feed it twice a day, let it out when it has to pee and give it some love and attention. And you’re very good at the love and attention part!»

«But I have already decided that we’re not getting a cat.»

Turning so he lay on his stomach, he brought back the puppy eyes from earlier, and said, «But think of all the sad, lonely kittens at the animal shelter who doesn’t have anyone to love them…» Dorian pretended to wipe away a tear. Manon answered by giving him a deadly glare accompanied by her middle finger.

«Must you be so dramatic? I’m really dating a child…»

Dorian placed his head in his palms, kicking his legs just to further her point. «You love it when I’m dramatic.»

«I don’t,» Manon said, sitting down next to him.

«You do,» Dorian said, flicking her nose.

«Don’t boop me.»

«If we had a kitten I could boop them instead.»

Manon quickly stood up again, throwing her arms in the air as she let out a frustrated groan. «I’m not losing this argument!»

-

She had lost the argument.It was the only way to explain why she now found herself standing at the local animal shelter. 

Manon wanted to be mad, she really did, but Dorian was making it hard for her with his fawning over all the tiny, squeaking kittens.

«Oh, look at that one Manon. Isn’t it adorable?» 

No, they weren’t adorable, she wanted to say, eager to get it over with as soon as possible. They had come her straight after work, so she was tired, and hungry, and she didn’t even want to get a cat. This was all on Dorian.

But to be fair…he deserved this. Deserved to be happy. It was what had made her cave in the end, actually. 

Dorian had pouted his lips and made those puppy eyes for the billionth time and said, «Don’t you want me to be happy?» 

And truth be told…she would gladly endure a little ball of fur terrorizing their home if it meant the love of her life was happy.

Manon rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. Living with Dorian had made her soft…

Sensing her discomfort, Dorian placed a hand on her lower back, drawing her closer. He pressed a light kiss on her head before his attention shifted back to the small demons. 

But Manon couldn’t stay in here for much longer. Animals in cages, even if they were well cared for, and only here for a short while, had always made her uncomfortable, and the hall was too dark, too cramped, the walls coming closer, and then there was the gods-damned smell. Was this smell supposed to take permanent residence in her house from now on? She had to get out, had to get air-

«I’m sorry,» she mumbled to Dorian before heading towards the heavy door at the end of the hall. She’d nearly made it when a tiny squeak made her stop. 

She crouched down and peered into the dark cage. In one of the corners, she could make out a tiny, pitch-black kitten taking her in with big, sad eyes.

«What’s wrong with this one?» she asked the middle aged woman that had shown them around.

«He’s a fighter, that one,» the woman said, giving Manon a grim smile. 

«Born much smaller than the rest of the litter, so his mother abandoned him. When he came to us, he was so weak we didn’t think he would survive, but he fought with teeth and claws, and now he’s as healthy as any other cat.» She looked proud of the little black cat. «He still keeps to himself though, won’t go near the other cats, as afraid as he is. I swear he is even terrified of his own shadow.»

Hearing these words, Manon felt something strange settle deep inside, and she hardly had time to think before she announced to the room; «We want this one.»

Dorian, who’d made his way over to her, looked at the kitten, then back at Manon, and grinned. «If you say so.»

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

-

This was a horrible idea.

When they’d first gotten home, the cat with them, Manon had gone straight to the shower, leaving Dorian to take care of it all.  

Once she emerged from the bathroom, nearly an hour later, Dorian was still sitting on the floor, and the cat was still inside the cardboard box they had carried him in. 

Apparently, Dorian had tried everything he could think of to coax the kitten out of his hiding spot, but he remained in the corner, curled up into a quivering ball. 

It wasn’t until he had spotted Manon, looking over the edge, that he had let out a high-pitched meow, making his way out of the box on stumbling feet.

«Him,» she tried explaining, pointing to Dorian, as the cat made his way towards her, «Go to him.» But the cat either didn’t understand, or he simply didn’t care, stopping right in front of her.

«I’m not your mother,» she told the creature, voice frantic. It was sitting on the floor, staring at her with big, yellow eyes. It blinked once, and Manon jumped off the floor.

«Okay, that cat is giving me the creeps, so I’ll leave you to it, I have work to do.» 

Dorian’s answering chuckle followed her into the kitchen, where she started making a much needed cup of coffee. She opened the cabinet and pulled out her favorite mug. The one shaped like a t-rex.

A yelp escaped her as she turned around to find the tiny, black kitten sitting right in front of her, head tilted slightly. «Holy sh-»

«I think he likes you,» Dorian said, appearing in the doorway. He was wearing his usual smug expression. 

«Nope, I can’t do it,» Manon said, taking a step forward. The cat followed, trailing her like a shadow. 

Deciding to distract him, Manon walked over to his bowls and stood there, waiting, until he began eating. Once she’d made sure he wouldn’t fall into his water bowl and drown, Manon hauled ass all the way to her study on the second floor, leaving Dorian with the horrid beast he had wanted so badly.

As the door shut behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. If the cat somehow managed to reach her now, she was moving out. He could just have the house.

Manon began to work, needing to plan her classes for tomorrow. She tried to focus on her task, but more often than not, her mind wandered off to what she was missing out on downstairs.

She truly didn’t care for the creature, but what if he was scared? Would he be able to settle in their home? He had been treated so horribly…had been so alone. Would he get the love and care he needed from them?

Cursing her boyfriend for putting her in this situation, Manon grabbed her laptop and dragged herself back down to the living room. 

What she didn’t expect to find was the house all quiet, Dorian sitting on the couch with a book, the cat nowhere to be seen. «Where is he?» she whispered carefully.

«Under the couch, sleeping. I think he likes dark corners.»

«Hm,» was all Manon said, sitting next to him. She opened her laptop once more and tried to focus on her work.

«Are you okay?» Dorian asked, and as she turned to look at him, she found concern softening his features.

She sighed. «Yes. I’ll get used to it…eventually.» She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but Dorian released a breath of relief.

«You know I love you, right?» Dorian asked, before standing up and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

«Yeah, and I love you,» she whispered back, pulling him down so his lips could meet hers.

As they broke apart, Dorian headed towards the stairs, announcing, «I’m taking a shower, won’t be long.»

Manon sunk further into the couch, fighting to stay awake. She just had to finish up her work-

A high-pitched meow interrupted her, and she looked down to find their cat trying to climb onto the couch, his claws imbedded deep into the fabric. «Not the couch,» Manon groaned softly, but there was no real reprimand in her voice. 

The kitten struggled to pull his tiny body onto the piece of furniture, and when he finally succeeded, Manon reached over to pet his little head. The movement felt awkward, but the cat’s eyes widened, and he quickly climbed onto Manon’s chest, before settling there, right over her heart. 

Manon’s whole body stiffened at first, nervous for what the beast would do next, but he only began purring, pressing his small paws against her chest. «Fine,» Manon whispered, giving in at last. She placed her laptop on the table, simply letting herself relax.

She began stroking him, and he answered by purring even louder.

«What a big day you must’ve had,» Manon said to the small cat. «I can’t imagine how scary it must be to move into such a big house with two strangers.»

He probably couldn’t understand her, but she kept going anyway.

«This is your home from now on. We’ll give you love and care, and I promise we won’t abandon you.» The kitten looked at her with those big eyes of his, meowing once. It made Manon’s heart feel all warm and fuzzy.

«We need to give you a name, too. Dorian wanted Batman, you know, since you’re all black, but one, that is the most uncreative, unoriginal name I have ever heard, and two, all the other cats will bully you for it, and we can’t have any of that, can we?» She gave him a serious look. «So I refused, you can thank me later.»

But Batman or not, the cat still needed a name. Manon searched her memory for anything that could fit. It had to be unique, and badass, and- 

«Abraxos.»

The cat lifted his head, staring at her.

«Your name is Abraxos,» Manon decided, marveling at how right it felt.

After that, he settled down, curling into a ball once more. Before Manon knew it, Abraxos was asleep, and at the small, warm weight on her chest, at the sound of him snoring softly, Manon smiled, knowing she already loved this cat very, very much.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25

I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!

...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding.  (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)

So are we gonna follow up on the main ship?  Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right?  We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????

Yeah, probably.

Ugh, more Dirk.  I guess it’s overdue.  :(

> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair

Oh huh, I guess not?  So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?

Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.

Pretty much, yeah.  Can’t blame either of them.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well.  Low-point.  Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.

He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.

Can’t move.  No Breath huh?  What’s going to get him to, then?

> (==>)

Oh boy, that might help.  XD  She’s pretty good at that.

> (==>)

Still with the waistline gap.  And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

Nice, huh!  No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back.  He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess.  (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)

ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered

YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT

ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin

Heheheh.  Gosh Roxy is always the best.

JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.

Hah.

JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.

Yep!  Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor.  Definitely something Roxy can do well.~

> (==>)

EXCUSE ME.  What is that outfit and pose.  Did you--

ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.

Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room

Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling.  JFC

Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap 

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU

> (==>)

Yea this seems like a fucc room.

JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there

So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”

ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good

Ah geez.

ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!

Well, that’ll buff out easy.

ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.

Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass  (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)

Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.

That would be the feeling.

> (==>)

MY GOD.  Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit

She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it

JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--

So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry?  Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.

> (==>)

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

boot knockin XD

ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.

Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.

Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars?  Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something?  (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task?  And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)

John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.

He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.

Just put your feet up yeah

> (==>)

WHAT A CUTE IMAGE

JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud

she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far

ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened

Ouch.  Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was.  (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous?  I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)

ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"

Talk it ouuuut~~  get those feels out there and articulated john

JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.

I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit?  Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.

ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.

Oh shit

ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep

Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?

ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on

It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little

ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences

OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement

ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind

Okay no.  Wait.  What the fuck?

First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,

Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!?  Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES.  God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN!  And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise!  If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!?  And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they??  This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to.  FUCK.

This feels stupid.

ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?

Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.

> (==>)

JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here

THANK FUCKING CHRIST.

If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad.  Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is.  OF COURSE.

ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good

Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it

ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push

eyeroll, but yeah, of course

> (==>)

Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.

> (==>)

Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????

That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it????  For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or

ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean

Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing.  And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely.  :)

JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me

I don’t have any big theories.  Is it just the Hiveswap device or something?  If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.

> (==>)

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^

Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.

> (==>)

THEY’RE SO CUTE

JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u

Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline.  Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).

CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.

Vital conversation?  What sorta truth-bombs are coming?

CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^

Holy SHIT that was savage!  And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~

JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.

Uh oh.

Hopefully babies aren’t involved.

JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.

Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?

JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.

Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction.  “ok.”  Pretty much inevitable.

CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)

And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.

CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):

Yeah shake him out of this shit.

ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u

Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.

CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)

This is all gold

ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.

Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility.  Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John.  ...Whatever.

CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!

No?  So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?

CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

What the heck?  Calliope SAW all this?  Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there?  And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already.  Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?

JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.

Um, what?

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...

No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep.  Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline.  It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).

CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.

Ah fuck.  You’re going to regulate non-canon?  “Canonize” it?  Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)

Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.

JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol

YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK

ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.

..............................

OOooooh, kay.

Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it.  Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point.  Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention!  That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!

They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough.  Huh.

ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?

Love with who? Callie, John, both?

In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

Oh shit.  Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.

> (==>)

Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska.  Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--?  Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?!  I don’t know.  Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????

Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska

No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there.  But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.

JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?!  Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.

Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.

[rideonwings]

The Enevitable Cliche Quarantine Story

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Summary: Stranger-Neighbors lean on each other during the quarantine. 

A/N: It’s cliche and silly, but dammit, I think a lot of us need something cute and fluffy these days. There’s more written, I’m just struggling to focus on continuing, so maybe posting this will make me work on it more. Generally I don’t post things until they’re further along, but if you like it maybe I’ll get my ass in gear.  

Day 1: 

Astrid

After yesterday’s official announcement, once the panic had settled to a mild simmer, and once she’d stocked her fridge and pantry to the fullest possibly capacity with anything she could find left in the vacant grocery store, Astrid was left sitting on her couch coming to the realization that she had an unknown expanse of open time to fill and not a whole lot of ideas on how to fill it. 

Sure, she had her thesis to finish, and the gym she worked at part time had asked her to film a few workout classes a week for their clientele to follow along with, but, in the normal state of things, she was the type of person to fill her days with errands, exercise, and activity. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been in her apartment past 10:00am. A shelter-in-place was the opposite of all of those things.

Even if she wasn’t particularly social,  Astrid thrived on routine. Her days were scheduled, regimented, and tidy, bouncing from teaching classes at the gym to study sessions with her colleagues in her DPT program to her waitressing job at night. She wasn’t really sure what to make of this crazy concept of ‘flex time’. She strolled around her apartment a few times, looking for things to pick up or organize, leaning down to scratch her cat between the ears every time she walked passed. Finally, she sighed, flopping her arms against her side heavily and collapsed onto the couch. She flipped through her Netflix account and selected an old favorite, grabbed a blanket, and tried to embrace her new normal. 

Hiccup:

Honestly, he should have paid more attention. He’d known the world was reeling with the impacts of this virus, but he hadn’t really thought about its application to his life until his boss had sent out an email yesterday and then basically forced everyone to leave the premises until further notice. As Hiccup was packing up all of the equipment he would need to work from home for the next… while, he’d joked with Fishlegs that he should have stopped at the store earlier.

It had been a joke, and yet, now, as he roamed the grocery store looking for anything remotely appetizing, he felt woefully unprepared. As someone who didn’t spend a lot of time at home, mostly rolling out of bed, walking the dog and shuffling off to work where he’d stay way longer than he should have, he wasn’t entirely sure what ‘staples’ consisted of. He could cook, was a good cook in fact, he just never made the time for it. Now he was trying to figure out how to make a meal out of kidney beans and frozen brussel sprouts. At least he had toilet paper. 

Finally, he stumbled out of the store into the deceptively beautiful day, rolling a cart of completely random supplies to his car and wondering if he should get gas before the world ended. When he pulled up to his apartment a few minutes later, he looked up to his balcony window as he always did to see Toothless’ smiling face in the window, tail wagging hurriedly, as he waited for his owner to come inside. At least he wouldn’t be alone during this. 

Day 2:

Astrid 

Astrid never would have believed that you could get sore from sitting on the couch all day, and yet, as she rose from bed that morning, she felt the unmistakable pull of pained muscles in her lower back. 

“Gods,” she moaned, “This is going to be the month ever.”

She’d stayed up way later than normal, watching old episodes of her favorite tv shows to bring her comfort, though in reality, she’d mostly just stared through the screen and let her mind wander. Now, bending over to touch her hands to the floor, she knew that if she was going to survive this pandemic, she’d need to figure out a way to schedule her days, even when there was nothing to fill them with. Maybe she could learn to cook? For someone as health obsessed as she was, she lived predominantly on protein shakes, microwaved lunches and cheese and crackers. Half of the groceries she’d bought over the last week she had no idea what to do with. 

Astrid turned on her coffee maker and fed Stormfly, continuing to stretch out cramped muscles as the scent of coffee filled the apartment. The sun was shining brightly from her balcony window, so once she’d filled a mug just the way she liked it, she opened the sliding door and curled herself into one of the padded wicker chairs her mom had dropped off one day after cleaning out her garage in preparation for her move across the country. 

As she sat there and sipped at her drink, she tried to remember the last time she’d actually been out here. It wasn’t exactly secluded: the balcony itself was only about 12 feet long and 5 feet wide, with a few feet of gap between it and the one next to it, though it looked out onto a fairly nice part of town with a park.

She didn’t really know her neighbors, either. The man in the unit to her right seemed to work opposite schedules as her, waking up later than her and coming back when she was getting ready for bed. She’d only really seen him from afar, walking his dog or getting in and out of his car on the weekends, but she thought he was about her same age. Her other neighbor was a cranky old man that never spoke to her and made it clear that he preferred it that way. The few times they’d bumped into each other at the mail slot he’d been gruff and rude, and honestly, she hadn’t tried to be nice after that. It hadn’t seemed worth the effort. 

It wasn’t exactly warm out, being late March and all, but she pulled her bare legs into her hoodie and enjoyed the quiet. Astrid tried to remember the last time she’d felt like she didn’t have to be somewhere, turning to face the sun more directly. After a while Stormfly edged out onto the balcony and curled up next to her, adding to her feeling of contentment. 

An explosion of noise erupted from her right, jerking her out of her trance and spilling her remaining coffee all over the cement as she jumped. She whipped around to find the source, noticing her neighbor’s black dog with his nose pressed against the window, staring intently at Stormfly, who had poked her head up to return the glare, apparently unimpressed with the dog’s theatrics. Astrid swore under her breath as she wiped coffee from her hoodie sleeve, cursing the dog for ruining a nice moment.

“Toothless, Gods, what is wrong with you?!” She heard from inside the unit. She looked over to see the dog’s owner glaring at the excited animal before he opened the door slowly, letting the dog onto the balcony. The dog - a black lab - slinked onto the balcony like spilled ink and came directly to the railing, still looking at Stormfly and sniffing interestedly but refraining from barking. “I’m sorry if he scared you,” the man said, running his hands through his longish hair and looking decidedly sleepy. “He’s not actually trying to attack you or your cat, he just wants a friend.” 

Astrid nodded, still feeling a little annoyed at the disruption, but accepting the apology. She shifted, picking Stormfly off of her lap and putting her down. “It’s okay, he just surprised me.” 

“Sorry, he’s always crazy in the morning.” The neighbor-guy said, his tousled hair falling over his eyes as he scratched the dog, who wiggled ridiculously in response, looking up at his owner adoringly. “Once he’s had his walk he’ll calm down.” 

Astrid smiled despite herself at the dog’s happy reaction. “You still get to take him on walks?” 

Neighbor-guy shrugged. “I’d assume so, as long as I stay away from crowds and other people. Otherwise I’m going to have to send the government a bill for carpet cleaning.” 

Astrid snickered. “I’m not sure they’ll have that in their budget after all this is over.”

Neighbor-guy smiled, and Astrid was struck by how cute it was. “I’m going to go take him out. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” Astrid replied, standing from her chair as they went back through their sliding door. She then made her way back inside to refill her mug before opening her computer to work on her thesis. Maybe she’d lucked out and found someone to keep her company during all this. 

Hiccup

As eerie as it had been to walk Toothless in the nearly deserted streets and parks of their town, Hiccup had taken advantage of the extra time in his day to really tire his buddy out, walking for nearly two hours while simultaneously calling into conference calls for work and enjoying the sunshine. 

Now, settled back in his apartment, his stump was throbbing as a result of the extra activity. He wrapped a cold, wet washcloth around the base of his left leg and settled onto his balcony with his computer and a beer, because why not? It was after noon!

Popping in his headphones, he opened his CAD program and began refining some specs on his latest project. While the extra screens on his workstation would have been helpful for this, he was perfectly content out here. Toothless nestled against him at the seat of his chair.

Hiccup lost track of time, alternating between chatting with Fishlegs and uploading revisions to their project board. He hardly noticed when his make-shift ice pack dried and fell off his leg. He was finally jostled out of his focused state when Toothless jumped up from beneath him, trotting over to the railing bordering the neighboring unit. Hiccup turned to see what the dog was getting up to, only to see the woman next door coming out onto the balcony again, her cat curled around her heels. She smiled at him, waving hesitantly. He pulled the headphones from his ears and returned her wave. “Hey.”

“I see you survived.” She said with mild amusement. Her bright blue eyes -  so bright that he could distinguish their color even from this distance - trailed down to Toothless, before catching on his half-leg. “Oh!” She exclaimed softly, her hand flying to her mouth. 

Hiccup instinctively folded his knee, tucking his stump underneath him. “Don’t worry, that wasn’t a casualty of this morning’s trip, it’s old.” He said, trying to lighten her reaction. “As far as I know, this virus isn’t known for removing limbs.” 

“No… I…” The blonde blushed, her hand clenching reflexively at her side. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It just surprised me.” 

Hiccup smiled kindly. “It’s fine, really. People don’t expect it. I guess Toothless and I both are full of surprises.” He said, gesturing to the dog’s own stump, which fell just short of his hock. Astrid’s eyes widened again and she came to crouch at the bars of her railing.

“I never noticed when I saw you walking him, he moves so well!” She said, reaching towards the lab instinctively, though her hand fell a few feet short. “You two match.” 

“Yeah, we took that dog / owner costume thing one step too far.” Hiccup joked and she laughed. “He has a little mini-prosthetic to match mine, he just doesn’t need to wear it in the house.” 

The girl pulled her chair up closer to the bars and sat down. “I’m Astrid.” She said, reaching down to scratch her cat between the shoulder blades. “And this is Stormfly.” 

Hiccup reached towards her and mimed shaking her hand. “I’m Hiccup, and this is Toothless.” 

“Two very unusual names.” Astrid commented. 

“Yeah, we’re aware.” He responded with a smile. “I was a runt, his baby teeth were late coming in… it’s amazing we’ve survived this long.” 

Astrid smiled - Gods, she had a nice smile - and stood. “I’ll be right back.” She ducked back into her house and came back a few minutes later with a glass of wine. “I liked your idea.” She said, gesturing to his beer, which was nearly empty, it’s dregs warm. “Though it seems a bit early.” 

Hiccup shrugged. “Maybe. It honestly feels like there are no rules right now.”

“Are you working? I don’t mean to disturb you if you are, I was just getting a little stir-crazy in my place.” 

“Yeah, but nothing too time consuming. I could use a break.” Hiccup replied, reaching to drink the last sip of his beer. “Let me grab another one.” He stood from his seat, hopping on his good leg through the door. He’d intentionally set up his apartment furniture at perfect distances so he could hop without his prosthetic or a crutch when he needed to, using chairs, tables and desks as handholds along the way.

In a few minutes he was seated back outside, facing his new neighbor-friend. 

“Is this six feet, do you think?” He said jokingly, gesturing to the distance between them. “I am just over 6’2”, I could lay down across the bars to measure it more accurately.” 

Astrid smiled into her wine glass. “I think we’re probably good, as long as we agree to sneeze in the other direction.” She took a sip before gesturing to his computer. “What were you working on?”

“It’s a diagram for an artificial knee,” he said, “trying to improve the rotational capacity of an older model of knee replacements.” 

Astrid’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, that’s…. Cool. What do you do exactly?” 

“I’m a biomechanical engineer for a company that basically improves medical equipment. You?”

Astrid tucked her hair behind her ears. “I work as a physical trainer at a gym, and I’m getting my Doctorate of Physical Therapy and a masters in history. I work as a waitress too, but obviously that’s probably not going to last with all this happening.” 

“Cool about the Doctorate, sorry about the waitressing gig.” Hiccup replied, noting the concern on her face. 

“It’s fine, it’s not like that was what I wanted to do, it just helped pay the bills. I’m still getting paid for the time being, and the gym pays me as long as I keep doing a few online videos, but it’s just generally going to be a little scary for a while.” 

Hiccup felt instantly guilty and lucky for his own situation, knowing that he was in stable employment that wouldn’t be severely impacted. He instinctively wanted to offer to help her in any way she needed, but bit his tongue. He hardly knew her, after all. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, not knowing what else to say. “Hopefully everyone gets with the program and we can shorten the lifespan of this thing so we can get back to normal soon.” 

Astrid nodded, frowning slightly. “Yeah, hopefully.” 

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Then, Astrid laughed weakly. “There’s no reason to play the pity game, though, right? We’re only on day two. Honestly, I’m more worried about how I’m going to feed myself for the next few weeks.” 

Hiccup smiled weakly, noting her attempt to deflect from her real anxieties. “Were you not able to grab groceries?”

“Oh, no I’m fully stocked, unfortunately, I have no idea how to cook half of the things in my pantry.” 

Hiccup laughed, glad for the break in the tension. “Well, I could probably help you with that. I myself have the most random selection of food known to man in my fridge, so I’ll need to get really creative with my meals.” 

Astrid laughed. “Maybe we can potluck this situation. I have a startling amount of ramen in my pantry for someone that doesn’t like ramen.” 

“How do you not like ramen? Even when you put an egg in it?” 

It was Astrid’s turn to look at him skeptically. “Why would I put an egg in it?” 

Hiccup’s jaw dropped. “What? You don’t know?” Astrid shook her head. “It changes everything, it makes it totally amazing. How did you possibly make it through college without adding egg to your ramen??” He said jokingly. 

Astrid shrugged, giggling. “By not eating much ramen, I guess. It’s not exactly health food.” 

Hiccup smiled, tweaking his eyebrow at her. “Feeling adventurous?”

10 Minutes Later     - 

“Okay, the water is boiling.” Astrid called from her kitchen. Hiccup sat on the railing of his balcony, legs hanging over the side as he gripped the bars. 

“Okay, add the noodles and seasoning, then crack your egg into a separate bowl and whisk it.” He called, only able to see her part of her back as she worked at her stove. “Once the noodles start to soften, add the egg mixture and start stirring it in.”

Astrid complied, turning around to look at him. “It looks gross, it’s all clumpy.” 

“You gotta stir it more, really mix it in there.” 

“Okaaay…” 

After a few minutes, she looked over her shoulder at him, her expression changed. “Oh, it looks creamy now.” 

“There you go, that’s what should be happening.” Hiccup said, heart warming at her smile. 

“That’s so cool!” 

“Right? Once you get the hang of it, you can add all kinds of veggies and stuff to it to make it even more delicious, you just have to get the timing right on it.” He maneuvered himself down from the railing back onto his porch.

“One step at a time, Gordon Ramsay.” She said sarcastically. There was the sound of dishes clinking, and after a few more minutes, she came out onto the balcony holding two bowls with paper towels under them. “Err.. I am not really sure if we’re supposed to be sharing dishes and food, but… it’s too much for me to eat alone.” 

Hiccup shrugged, reaching across the bars to take a bowl from her. “I’ll accept the risk in this situation.” 

They sat in their respective chairs, enjoying their late afternoon snack and chatting. Hiccup couldn't remember the last time he’d enjoyed a conversation with someone this much, especially someone he’d never spoken to before that day. 

They sat out in their separate spaces until the sun began to dip, only going inside to grab drinks or use the facilities, or once, for Hiccup to let Toothless out on another short walk. Finally it got to be a little too chilly to be enjoyable, and they began to clean up their areas. 

Before she went inside, Astrid turned to him with a small smile. “See you tomorrow?” She asked, a teasing sort of hope in her eyes. 

Hiccup smiled brightly. “Definitely.”

[wheresmynaya]

Lopez’s 8 Ch.2 | Brittana

I didn’t expect such a big response for the first chapter LOL I’m glad everyone’s here for this. Thanks for spreading the word! <33

Also available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & below the cut!

The next morning, Santana and Brittany are seated side by side in one of Santana’s favorite cafés. Santana’s stuffing her face with pancakes like she hasn’t eaten in days while Brittany tries to wrap her head around everything Santana has told her about the heist.

When the waitress comes around with Brittany’s hot chocolate and a top-up of Santana’s coffee, Brittany smoothly pulls a flask from her jacket and twists off the lid.

Santana watches as she pours a splash of peppermint schnapps into her mug and starts to stir before concealing the flask again.

“That’s new,” Santana comments with a chuckle, “Did you develop a drinking problem while I was away?”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “No, but I might if you insist on starting every morning like this.”

“Like what?” Santana smiles sweetly, “With breakfast and the pleasure of my company?”

Brittany squints and goes to correct her, “With you tricking me into having breakfast with you so you can bombard me with your dastardly plans on the way here.”

“Admit it, Britt,” Santana says smugly as she sticks her fork through a bite of pancakes, “You’ve missed this. You’ve missed me and all the fun we use to have. Tell me you’re not the least bit interested now that you’ve heard everything.”

Brittany sighs and goes to take a long sip of her hot chocolate.

Santana watches and waits, but Brittany remains quiet. It makes Santana smirk deviously.

“That’s what I thought,” Santana gives her a triumphant grin, “You can’t resist a good thing. You so want this, just say it.”

Brittany scoffs. If she didn’t find Santana’s confidence so damn attractive, she’d roll her eyes at it for the millionth time that morning.

“Okay, so you want to rob a museum…” Brittany clarifies hesitantly after taking another sip.

Santana shakes her head, “Not the museum, just someone in it.”

“That’s right,” Brittany nods, “You want to rob Rachel Berry.”

“Oh my God, Britt!” Santana hushes and eyes around them to see if anyone heard. When the coast is clear she turns back to Brittany with her voice lowered, “Could you be any louder? Who knows who’s listening, she’s like the biggest star right now.”

“I don’t know why,” Brittany scoffs, “You know she pays the paparazzi to follow her around, right?”

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous but so is she,” Santana shrugs, “She’s always causing a scene to get her name on the front page. Remember that one scandal involving a panty raid?”

“How could I forget! She was caught red-handed,” Brittany laughs before her tone grows serious, “Rumor has it that she once ate a bull testicle too.”

Santana frowns in disgust and pauses before taking another bite, “Can you not? I’m eating…”

“That’s her claim to fame, Santana, eating a bull testicle…like singular she didn’t even eat both of them!” Brittany says while she waves her hand around, “It’s such a waste.”

“Well the key words here are rumor has it,” Santana jokes, “Who knows what the hell goes on with her. And besides, why would anyone want to eat a fucking bull testicle in the first place? That’s gross.”

“It’s a delicacy in some places,” Brittany mumbles which earns her a quizzical glare from Santana, “So I’ve heard. People do strange things for fame.”

“Clearly,” Santana replies, “We all know Rachel Berry sucks but she’s the one hosting the Met Gala this year so it’s kind of out of my hands. She’s our mark by like…default.”

“Right,” Brittany nods and goes back to piecing everything together. Her face is cutely screwed up in deep concentration and Santana’s sure Brittany’s about to say that she’s the biggest pain in her ass which Santana’s totally use to hearing by now.

To her surprise, Brittany just let’s out an exhausted sigh.

“There’s no way we’d be able to pull this off with just the two of us,” She says, “There’s too many moving parts, we’d need like a group of 11 to 13 people – “

“Oddly specific,” Santana points out around a mouthful of pancakes while Brittany rambles on.

“ – At the very least and like a whole bunch of money which neither of us has,” Brittany gives her a look, “So how’s that going to work out?”

“Well for starters, we’d only need a team of seven and just a few grand,” Santana answers proudly, “That’s where the credit line I asked about comes into play.”

“Oh, just a few grand? Is that all?” Brittany quips, “You think money grows on trees or something? It doesn’t, I tried. Remember?”

“Yes, yes I remember. The pay-off is going to be big,” Santana jokes back as her voice dips down into a flirty tone, “And I’m sure you can work out something. Give yourself some credit, you can be very persuasive when you want.”

“Well one of us has to be judging by your failed attempt to seduce me yesterday,” Brittany smirks.

“Please. If I was going to seduce you, you’d know it.”

“I’m sure,” Brittany lets out a laugh before getting serious again, “Even if I could manage to get what you need, we’re working with such a tight schedule. We’d need to acquire a whole team like now. It’s crazy talk.”

“No, it’s genius,” Santana corrects her while Brittany takes a sip, “You have got to admit that this is some of my best work, Britt.”

She’s not wrong, it really is a great plan. It’s just that Brittany doesn’t want Santana to get herself locked up again, she doesn’t think she could last that long without having her around, but you only get locked up if you get caught and that has never happened when she and Brittany are together.

It really gets Brittany thinking though, what’s the hurry other than the obvious? Why does it have to be the Met Gala? What isn’t Santana telling her?

“Why do you need to do this?” Brittany asks suddenly and there’s this seriousness in her tone, “Tell me the reason and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Santana’s answer comes easily as she smirks, “Because it’s what I’m good at.”

“Babe, you’re good at a lot of things. Trust me on that, but this?” Brittany shakes her head, “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Brittany says earnestly.

The old term of endearment falls so easily that Brittany doesn’t realize she says it. They’ve always playfully called each other names like that for years so it’s not big deal, even if Brittany sometimes gets a fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Santana lets out a long sigh and lowers her tone too, “There’s nothing to worry about. I have gone over this thing thousands of times, literally. It’s all I thought about when I was away and I have it perfected. If we get into a bind – which we won’t, probably – I can get us out. It might’ve taken me like three years to get it just right, but it’ll run like clockwork now. I promise.”

What surprises Brittany is the fact that Santana holds out her pinky to her.

“No. Don’t do that,” Brittany scoffs and points at Santana’s hand, “Pinky promises are reserved for promises that you can keep.”

“I know,” Santana replies and inches closer, “Why do you think I’m doing this?”

Brittany’s slow to answer and instead just stares down at her mug.

“Listen,” Santana adds in this husky tone and puts down her fork altogether to give Brittany her full attention. She has her serious voice on now too when she says, “I need you with me, B.”

Brittany bites her lip to keep from smiling as she peeks up at Santana. The brunette is staring back with these pleading big, brown eyes and Brittany struggles against the pull. She can feel herself caving the longer she stares back though, because feeling needed? By Santana? That’s Brittany’s kryptonite.

But Santana knows that too and Brittany can’t give into her so easily.

“Why can’t you find someone else if it’s so important for you to do?” Brittany asks but again Santana is too quick to answer.

“It has to be you and me leading this thing. That’s the only way this will work.”

“You’re just saying that,” Brittany brushes off with the shake of her head. She tries to make light of the situation, “You’ve found someone else before. That’s how Dani came into the picture, right? You can do it again. Maybe the next person will have green hair this time?”  

Brittany sees that she has struck a nerve with the way Santana takes a sharp inhale at the blow, but the brunette remains persistent despite the waver.

“I can’t do this with anyone else,” Santana says simply, “There’s no one like you, Britt.”

Her words and her tone has Brittany’s playful smirk falling and the blonde looks to Santana almost in wonderment. Those words Santana said, she rarely hers them. Or rather, she rarely believes them but when they come from Santana it means something different altogether.

Brittany trusts her – well, they trust each other – and that’s rare in their industry. Con artists don’t trust anyone and they can’t be trusted either. That’s just how it is, but it’s always been different for them.

“Don’t you want out of the bootlegging biz?” Santana asks to fill the silence.

Brittany’s smirk returns, “That’s not what it’s called anymore…”

“Whatever, you know what I mean,” Santana shrugs and finds Brittany’s eyes, “You’re better than that watered down shit, that I know. Don’t waste your talents on it, Britt. Do this thing with me instead. Please.”

It takes Brittany a moment for Santana’s words to sink in, but then she’s letting out a telltale sigh of defeat. She doesn’t even have to say anything, Santana just knows she has won this round.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Brittany finally agrees aloud and takes Santana’s pinky in hers, “You happy now? You’ve successfully corrupted me.”

“Don’t pin that on me! You were like that before I even met you,” Santana grins, “But yes, I’m very happy.”

Brittany keeps her pinky curled around Santana’s for a second longer as she says, “Good, but just know I’m only agreeing to this because I like how you sound when you say please.”

“I know you do,” Santana winks. She pauses there for a second, admiring the way Brittany’s cat-like eyes darken in a way that occasionally has one of them being dragged off to a bathroom stall. Santana stays focused though and goes to pick up her fork again before offering a bite to Brittany, “Now taste this before it gets cold.”

“But I’m not hungry.”

“Liar,” Santana accuses playfully, “You’re always hungry.”

“Yeah, but not for pancakes.”  

Brittany gives Santana a proud smirk to which Santana rolls her eyes, “Just take a bite.”  

Brittany looks down at the offered fork warily then back into Santana’s hopeful eyes. She rocks the fork from side to side like she’s trying entice her with it. Ultimately Brittany rolls her eyes and succumbs to Santana yet again. She lets Santana guide the small bite into her mouth and hums almost instantly at the taste.

“Tastes like clouds,” Brittany’s in awe and goes to grab her own fork.

“Told you,” Santana smirks and slides her plate closer so that Brittany can help herself.

“So this team you’re talking about,” Brittany mumbles with her mouth full, “Got anyone in mind?”

Santana bobs her head from side to side, “Possibly. That’s what I’ll need your help with first, partner.”

Brittany smiles deviously at her new title, “Let’s hurry up and get to work then!”    

\\

They’re back at the loft and have cleared off the dining table so that it’s now covered in headshots and resumes. Santana and Brittany have been rifling through the paperwork for hours now trying to select the perfect person for job.

“What about this one?” Santana suggests and pushes the fashion designer’s details across the table towards Brittany.

Brittany pushes her laptop out of the way and goes to take a look at the profile. After once glance, she quickly shakes her head and throws the paper off to the side with a, “Nope.”

Santana gasps and goes to pick it up, “Why not? She’s young, she’s well-known, she’s – “

“Got a record,” Brittany fills in.

“Don’t we all?” Santana smirks.

Brittany narrows her eyes, “Not the kind of record you want around this type of job. Holly Holliday is a flight risk. She rarely completes a job. I don’t want us to worry about whether or not she’ll stick around long enough to see this through.”

“Well, there’s millions of dollars in it for her if she does,” Santana replies sarcastically.

Brittany gives her a look, “It’s a big if, Santana. We can find someone better.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll keep looking,” Santana sighs and goes back to searching.

“Ah, how about him?” Brittany suggests a moment later and reveals a picture of world-renowned designer Kurt Hummel.

Santana waves him off, “No. No boys allowed.”

“Not even a gay one?” Brittany asks and goes to frown at the picture, “He’d be perfect for this. Impressive portfolio, easily intimidated yet highly motivated by the potential pay-off.  Just look at his porcelain face.”

“Porcelain cracks with enough pressure,” Santana replies matter-of-factly, “If he someone gets picked up, we need to make sure he doesn’t start singing and with a face like that? I’m sure he’d sing his ass off.”

“True,” Brittany pouts at his picture, “I bet he gives really facials though.”

Santana fakes a gag, “Gross, Britt.”

“What? I was talking about skin care. See?”

Santana glances up to find Brittany looking genuine as she holds up his picture. She smiles apologetically and shakes her head, “It’s still a no. I’m going for all-girl here. We can’t have a guy in the group, even if his face does look baby-butt smooth. Besides, he’s rich already. We need someone who needs us.”

“Alright,” Brittany shrugs and sets down the picture.

A few moments later Santana plucks another profile from the stack and shows it to Brittany, “What about this one? Pretty sure we’ve worked with her before actually…”

Brittany reads the name April Rhodes and starts to chuckle, “I remember her! She got caught trying to smuggle a whole butterball turkey out from this banquet dinner…between her legs. ”

“Stuffing and all,” Santana recalls and goes to read the profile again, “She’s down for anything and she’s a talker too. Perfect for what we need. Now she’s apparently into fashion?”

“More like rehab,” Brittany corrects after doing a quick search on her laptop. She turns the screen to Santana, “Been in there now for six weeks.”

“Damn it! Third time’s the charm I guess,” Santana shrugs, “We’ll keep looking.”

A few more failed attempts later, Brittany starts to giggle to herself. Santana wonders how late it is and if Brittany is starting to get a little delirious.

“What?” Santana asks.

“I’m beginning to think you have a type,” Brittany teases while she taps away on her laptop.

“A type?”

“Mhmm,” Brittany hums without looking up.

Santana frowns, “I don’t have a type.”

“All your suggestions have been blonde and blue-eyed,” Brittany points out, “Hate to break it to you, honey, but you have a type.”

“My ex has blue hair, blue. That totally cancels out your theory.”

“But she was blonde when you met her,” Brittany grins and peeks over the screen of her laptop, “Admitting you have a type is the first step to recovery.”

“Oh is it?” Santana quirks her brow, trying to brush it off, “You sure that’s not addiction?”

“Same difference.”

Santana shakes her head, “Let’s just focus here.”

Although now that Brittany has mentioned, she’s become really aware of the last four people she has suggested. She didn’t know she was doing it – obviously – but now that Brittany’s pointed it out, she’ll just have to be more observant.

She doesn’t have a type, she just has standards and coincidentally those standards have been met by people who just so happened to be blonde and blue-eyed.

Does that mean she has a type? Of course not.

That’s when her eyes catch a profile she hasn’t suggested yet. She plucks up the paper and skims the details. Her smile grows the more she reads.

“She’s the one,” Santana mumbles and turns the paper to show Brittany, “This is our fashion designer and look, she isn’t blonde.”

Brittany scans the information and Santana watches her smile grow too.

“Let’s go get her.”

\\

Brittany manages to gain her and Santana entry into the designer’s next fashion show which just so happens to be the worst hour and a half they have experienced in a long time. Santana actually feels sorry for the models because any outfit that consists of a gigantic, floppy bow tied around your neck paired with a buttoned-up cardigan that is the same color as mashed up peas and carrots is just a travesty.

“I don’t know, Britt,” Santana whispers as another model walks by, “I’m having second thoughts. This is horrible, just look at that one’s shoes.”

Brittany glances over just in time to see Santana cringe. She does her best to stifle her laugh as she whispers back, “She doesn’t have to appeal to us, remember? She has to appeal to Rachel Berry, the same Rachel Berry who coined the term Sexy Librarian Chic.”

Santana nods, “You’re right. We need someone with just as horrible taste as her.”

“Exactly,” Brittany smiles down at Santana encouragingly, “We’ve found our designer for sure.”

\\

It’s hard for Santana and Brittany to sit through the entire show without screwing their faces up in disgust, but they manage to pull through and once the show ends they go off to find their designer.

It doesn’t take long though. When they find who they’re looking for, she’s huddled up in a corner surrounded by used disinfectant wipes. She’s in the middle of furiously scrubbing a high heel while she recovers from sobbing when Santana and Brittany walk up.

“Hi. Are you Emma?” Brittany asks softly, “Emma Pillsbury?”

The designer looks absolutely wrecked with her mascara running down her cheeks and this panicked look in her eye. It kind of freaks Santana out at first glance.

The red-haired woman hiccups as she looks to them, “Yes?”

“Awesome,” Brittany shows off that infectious, mega-watt grin and takes another step closer, “We’re big fans of your work.”

“You are?” Emma doesn’t look too sure.

“Of course,” Brittany shrugs casually and kicks away some of the used wipes so that she can perch herself on an upturned crate near the woman, “I would’ve never thought to pair a lime green cardi with mustard yellow loafers.”

“That’s because you have taste,” Santana jokes purely because she can’t help herself.

Brittany shoots her a glare and quickly tries to do some damage control before Emma starts to hyperventilate again, “You’re a fashion icon, Emma.”

“Tell that to the debt collectors,” Emma frowns, “I’m a failure. There’s no way I can come back from this. I put everything I had left into this show. It’s only a matter of time before everything’s taken from me.”

Brittany softens at Emma becoming increasingly distressed. Deep down, she feels a little bad for the woman. She seems like a nice person, genuine enough, and completely broke.

She’s the perfect person for the job.

“What if we told you that we can make this all go away?” Santana speaks up when she finds Brittany getting swept up in her feelings.

Emma blinks and glances between the two women skeptically, “I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Well start believing because we can,” Santana says through her smirk.

“What do you have in mind?” Emma questions.

Santana glances to Brittany and gives her a nod, almost as if she’s passing the mic.

“Dress Rachel Berry for the Met Gala,” Brittany supplies quietly so that only the three of them can hear.

Emma spurts out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious.”

Santana and Brittany remain stoic and it has Emma’s smile falling instantly.

“You’re serious,” Emma says gravely.

“We are,” Santana nods.

“Rachel Berry?” Emma pushes the idea away, “She’s…I’ve never dressed anyone with her kind of star power. How would I even be an option for her?”

“Come with us and we’ll explain everything,” Brittany offers.

Emma looks a little like a frightened doe but she stands regardless and agrees to follow them out to their car. It’s actually really concerning how little effort they had to use in order to get Emma to agree to a meeting, but they aren’t complaining too much.

\\

Once they get back to the loft, Brittany pulls up a picture of the most blingiest bling that ever blinged: the Toussaint. Emma’s eyes go wide at that size of the diamonds encased in the necklace while Santana gives a vague rundown of how Rachel Berry, the Toussaint, and Emma all play an important role in the outcome of this heist.

Unlike Brittany, Emma only needs to hear the parts of the plan that she’s directly involved with so it doesn’t take as long for the designer to get her head wrapped around the opportunity.

“I still don’t understand how you expect me to get a hold of this necklace,” Emma says a bit later, “And frankly, I think it’s too gaudy for the work I’m known for.”

“Known for? That’s a reach,” Santana teases lowly but plasters on an encouraging smile as she turns to face her again, “This necklace has history. It’s perfect for this year’s theme and if it’s Rachel Berry we’re talking about…the bigger the bling, the better. They’ll lend it out if it’s for her.”

Emma sighs but ultimately lets Santana sway her, “Okay, I can do this.”

“Yeah you can!” Brittany cheers before glancing to Santana and sending her a wink.

Santana ignores how her stomach flips at the sight and goes back to explaining what they need Emma to do first.

\\

Later that night, Santana and Brittany are back on the hunt again for their next recruit. Brittany’s eyes are starting to do that thing where they sting whenever she blinks, so she looks over to Santana who is fully immersed in her search.

“Can we take a break?” Brittany asks, “I’m getting snacky.”

“You’re always snacky,” Santana chuckles as Brittany goes to stand. She doesn’t even notice Brittany rounding the table until her warm hands squeeze tenderly at her shoulders. She feels Brittany’s thumbs dig into her tight muscles, working out the tension there, and she can’t help but moan at the sensation.

“Come on. Take a break,” Brittany husks as her hands continue to work, “We’ve been going at it all day.”

Santana can practically hear the smugness in her tone for that innuendo; Brittany can be the biggest tease sometimes and that’s coming from her.

She stays focused on the task at hand though, “I’m close, Britt. I can feel it.”

“I haven’t heard that in awhile,” Brittany chuckles darkly as she withdraws her hands and goes looking for a snack.

Santana raises a brow, “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re right,” Brittany says as she goes to lean against the kitchen counter with an apple in hand. She looks back at Santana with this mischievous glint in her eye, “What I meant to say was that I haven’t heard that from you in awhile.”

Santana lets out a laugh but Brittany just takes a bite of her apple, never breaking eye contact. In fact, her smug grin grows as she chews.

“And I’m sure you want to change that?” Santana asks as her voice dips into that deliciously raspy-hot-as-hell tone of hers, “Don’t you?”

“Is that an invitation?” Brittany practically purrs after wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You find me a hacker and we’ll see where your luck takes you.”

Brittany sinks her teeth into the apple then snatches up a bag of chips and a beer before retuning to the search with a renewed enthusiasm. It takes her all of twenty minutes before she’s stumbling upon someone promising.

\\

“Can I borrow your car?” Santana asks the next day while Brittany is busy at work trying to sift through potential people needed for other roles in the heist.

“Which one?”

“Any.”

The blonde shrugs, “Sure. Where’re you going? Paying another friend a visit?”

Santana smirks, “Something like that.”

Brittany gives her a questioning look before going to grab the keys, “Can I come?”

“Not yet,” Santana answers, “But I’ll need your help a little later.”

“Sure,” Brittany shuffles through the mix for Santana’s favorite and tosses them over to her, “I just filled that one up too.”

Santana smiles sweetly and comes over to press a chaste kiss to Brittany’s cheek in thanks, “I’ll see you later. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m out.”

“Speak for yourself,” Brittany chuckles although she can feel a blush blossoming at the feel of Santana’s lip on her skin. God, she’s so sex-deprived. If just a little kiss on the cheek gets her going, who knows what’ll happen if Santana leaves one on her lips next.

The brunette gives her one last wave of her fingers before she heads out, leaving Brittany to distract her wandering thought by looking up that possible hacker’s details and setting up a meeting.

\\

Awhile later, Santana finds herself standing across the street from a jeweler she once tagged along with her father to when she was younger. Her father and the shop owner were close friends back in the day, and judging by her father’s reputation, she’s sure the shop owner must’ve dabbled into the business as well otherwise, why would they be so close?

Santana remembers playing with the owner’s daughter every once in awhile though when she and her father would come by. Word on the street is that the daughter took over the business after the owner’s passing, so it’s only natural that Santana returns now.

They both have followed in their fathers’ footsteps in a way and she’s sure they could be of use to each other.

Santana waits for the jeweler in the window to notice her watching from across the way. When she finally does, she quickly speaks to her colleague before making her exit.

Santana smiles politely as the other woman nears, she looks like she has barely aged since the last time she saw her.

“Hey Tina,” Santana greets.

“Santana, Hi!” Tina replies happily, “God, it’s been a long time. I haven’t seen you since the funeral.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” Santana says vaguely, “How’s business?”

“It’s okay,” Tina shrugs as her smile falls, “We’re going through a little rough patch at the moment, but we’ll be okay. What brings you out this way?”

“Well, I kind of need your help with something,” Santana tells her.

Tina’s voice lowers, “Is everything okay? I heard you were in jail…”

“Yeah, I was,” Santana answers with a chuckle and goes to check her watch, “You got time for a walk? I can explain everything.”

Tina glances over at the shop for a moment before she nods, “Yeah, of course. What do you need help with?”

\\

Santana breezes into the loft awhile later with the biggest of grins on her face.

“Got a jeweler!” She says proudly as she shrugs out of her blazer. When she doesn’t hear a reply she ventures in deeper and calls out, “Britt? You here?”

“Yeah!” Brittany answers back and Santana follows the sound of her voice around the corner.

She finds the blonde seated next to a woman she recognizes from Brittany’s pile of suggestions but she still has questions. The two of them are squeezed in on a loveseat that Santana totally forgot about and they’re both staring down as the woman’s fingers type furiously at her laptop.

“What’s going on here? Who the hell are you?” Santana asks, but her tone comes out way more aggressive than she intended.

Brittany looks up questioningly upon hearing the snap, “This is Mercedes. She’s our new hacker.”

“I didn’t agree to anything yet,” Mercedes corrects her.

Santana’s brow rises as she looks from the woman to Brittany, “You chose someone named after a car?”

Mercedes gives Santana a look, the first time she’s torn her eyes away from the screen, but Brittany cuts in before anything happens.

“She’s really great, Santana,” Brittany tells her and goes to pat her thigh, “Come sit, she’s already infiltrated the museum’s security system.”

“What?” Santana gasps and quickly comes in close, foregoing Brittany’s lap so she can see the screen. Sure enough, it’s all there: access to every camera in the entire building.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” Mercedes asks casually.

“Yup,” Brittany beamed and looked to Santana who was now pressed up against her shoulder, “What do you think?”

“Anyone can hack into some cameras,” Santana waves off as she pushes away from Brittany to stand, “What else can you-“

Suddenly all the lights in the loft went out and the three of them were plunged into darkness for a few seconds until the sound of a mouse click turned them back on.

Mercedes smirks at the dumbfounded look on Santana’s face, “It took me a matter of seconds to run this place. Whoever is in charge of your busted ass security system here should be fired.”

When Santana’s only reply is a dropped jaw, Brittany takes that as all the approval she needs and enlists Mercedes on the spot.

\\

Once Mercedes heads out, Santana and Brittany set off on their next task for the day. This one is something Brittany’s been organizing while Santana was off meeting with Tina, so she fills Santana in on the way to the restaurant where they’re meant to meet Emma.

Brittany takes the lead on this one, telling the designer that the mission here is to make Rachel Berry as jealous as possible so that she’ll stop at nothing to nab Emma Pillsbury as her fashion designer for the Gala. Emma’s not so sure she’s following along, but Brittany tells her not to worry about it and just do what they talked about earlier while Santana was away.

Emma nods resolutely and heads inside while Santana and Brittany hang by the car.

“Who’s she meeting with?” Santana asks.

“You’ll see,” Brittany answers, “You aren’t the only one who has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

Santana tilts her head to the side in wonder, but Brittany just leans against the car with her arms crossed and rests her head back to soak in the warm sunlight.

Santana watches with awe, the way sunrays halo her makes Brittany look almost angelic. Santana knows that couldn’t be further from the truth though and the thought makes her smirk.

They stand there a moment longer somewhat watching from the window as Rachel Berry’s biggest rival, Sunshine Corazon, enters the restaurant and walks over to the table where Emma is seated. The singer and designer talk excitedly while Brittany pulls a camera from the car and pops off the lens cover.

“Hold this,” She directs and passes it to Santana before walking over to snap a couple pictures of the two carrying on. Santana watches curiously until Brittany returns to her side, “You know how much we can get for pictures like these? Could easily pay for nice meal and a few drinks.”

“Is that your way of asking me on a date?” Santana snickers as she passes Brittany the lens cap.

“Date?” Brittany feigns surprise, “You don’t date. At least that’s what you told me before you started dating Dani.”

Santana let’s out a deep sigh at another one of Brittany’s Dani-related jabs, “You’re never going to let that go, huh?”

“Nope,” Brittany grins, “Especially because she got you arrested once.”

“Not funny,” Santana huffs and goes to cross her arms.

Brittany’s quick to slip her hand between them though and slides down Santana’s forearm so that her pinky locks with the brunette’s, “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

Santana rolls her eyes at the sickeningly sweet tone but she can’t help the smile that forms. When it comes to Brittany, sometimes she really can’t help herself. She’s like putty in her hands, but that goes both ways at times too.

“Oh look, Emma’s coming out now,” Brittany points out as she drops Santana’s pinky and goes to stow away the camera.

Santana hates how she already misses the closeness but pushes away the feeling and gets back into the car along with Brittany and Emma.

\\

When the pictures of Emma’s lunch with Sunshine Corazon are released to the public it only takes a matter of minutes before Rachel Berry’s manager is calling to book Emma for the Gala.

“Mission accomplished,” Brittany smirks and pumps her fist in the air, “And I got a couple hundred bucks for the pictures!”

“Big money,” Santana teases.

Brittany continues to smirk as she closes the distance between them, “What’d you say we blow this popsicle stand and grab a drink?”

“Tempting,” Santana says as Brittany’s eyes linger on Santana’s lips, “But I’ve got work to do.”

Brittany let’s out a sigh and turns away, “You’re no fun.”

\\

“Okay so here me out,” Brittany begins as she and Santana walk down a crowded street, “This girl is a little out there but she’s got the best hands I’ve ever seen.”

Santana quirks a brow, “I’m offended.”

“Hey, it’s been awhile,” Brittany replies with a wink, “You might need to refresh my memory.”

“Yeah, you’d love that would you?” Santana laughs.

“You have no idea. Come on,” Brittany smirks then grabs onto Santana’s wrist to pulls her through a crowd surrounding a busker.

It’s a tight fit so Santana hooks her fingers into Brittany’s belt loops and practically molds herself to the blonde’s back – you know, so they don’t get separated.

Brittany loves every minute of it of course.

Santana also doesn’t mind the closeness too much either.

“She’s there,” Brittany points out to the girl doing some trick with a few red solo cups.

Santana rolls to the tips of her toes to get a better look which makes Brittany chuckle.

“Come here, shorty,” She teases and pulls the girl around to stand in front of her instead. Her hands linger on Santana’s hips, “Can you see now?”  

“Yeah,” Santana mumbles and watches the girl in front of them work her magic on some tourist.

She’s quick with her hands and just as charismatic as Brittany too but there’s something about her that’s a little too flashy. Maybe it’s the hot pink, furry vest she wears or the heart-shaped sunglasses sitting atop her head. Santana has no idea, but the girl’s swift nab of the man’s watch without him knowing has her interests piqued.

“See what I mean?” Brittany nudges Santana.

“She’s good,” Santana agrees and as the crowd starts to disperse she and Brittany head over.

“Hey hotties,” The girl greets and does a quick nod so that her sunglasses fall over her eyes. She points over to Santana’s watch, “That’s nice.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Santana smirks.

The girl tilts her head to the side and looks between them, “You 5-0?”

Santana and Brittany look to each other and laugh wholeheartedly.

“Fuck no!”

“Yeah, no way!” Brittany adds too, “What’s your name, kid?”

“Sugar,” The girl supplies and Santana’s sure the girl is lying, “Why?”

“Well Sugar, we were just admiring your special talents,” Santana says smoothly, “Got time for a chat?”

“Time is money,” Sugar replies looking skeptic, “So unless there’s something in it for me, the answer is no.”

“Oh, there’s definitely going to be something in it for you,” Brittany tells her with a grin, “Come take a walk.”

Sugar eyes the two warily, “I’ll go…but only if you buy me a bubble tea.”

“A what?” Santana frowns.

“It’s a drink,” Brittany chuckles, “You’ve never had it?”

“No?”

“Have you been living under a rock?” Sugar gasps.

“No, I’ve been in jail.”

“San,” Brittany hushes, not wanting to scare the girl off but to both of their surprise Sugar looks even more interested than ever before.

“What’d you do?” Sugar asks as her smile widens.

“You don’t just ask people that,” Santana scoffs, “That’s exactly how you get shanked.”

“Do you have a shank?”

“What.”

“Can I see it?”

“Anyway!” Brittany claps to get both of their attention, “So bubble tea, we need to get you one asap!” Brittany answers as she licks her slips. The movement of her tongue catches Santana’s eye which has her watching very, very closely, “I’m getting thirsty just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, imagine how I feel. I’ve been lifting things off tourists all day in this heat,” Sugar pulls out a wad of ones and starts to fan herself with it.

“Heat? It’s barely 70 degrees out,” Santana laughs, “Maybe if you’d lose that ridiculous vest-“

“The thirst is still real!” Sugar tells them then glances to Santana with a smirk, “I’m sure you know something about it judging by the way you just eye-fucked blondie here.”

Brittany’s brows shoot up as she turns to Santana. She presses her hand to her chest in surprise, “You did what now?”

Santana ignores Brittany’s teasing and narrows her eyes on the girl, “Fine. We’ll get you your dumb drink and then we’ll talk.”

Sugar beams, “Perfect.”

\\

Later that night, Santana and Brittany are lounging on the couch with their feet propped up on the coffee table. They’ve both had the longest day ever so far and can barely keep their eyes open long enough to scarf down dinner. They have the tv on but Santana isn’t really watching, her head is too full of scattered thoughts and schemes to focus on anything else.

Brittany seems to notice and goes to turn down the volume.

“You don’t stop, do you?” She asks Santana.

The brunette is slow to answer but Brittany’s not sure if that’s because she’s so deep in thought or just exhausted. When she lets out a yawn, Brittany gets her answer.

“There’s only one more person that we need,” Santana tells her like Brittany doesn’t know, “One more and that’s the whole team.”

“Yeah, I get that but you didn’t answer my question,” Brittany replies softly. She moves to brush Santana’s hair behind her ear then keeps her hand pressed against Santana’s cheek, “You’re gonna burn out if you keep at it like this.”

Santana smiles apologetically and overlaps Brittany’s hand with hers, “I won’t. We’re almost there. Once the team is complete then we can breathe a little. I know what I’m doing, Britt, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Hard not to,” Brittany shrugs as she pulls her hand out from underneath Santana’s.

Santana watches as her features harden a little and she wonders why that is.

Their dynamic has always been a little unconventional, especially when the casual sex became a thing, and maybe once upon a time they could’ve really been something but nothing ever happened. Santana doesn’t date – not really – and Brittany never voiced her feelings if she had them so here they are: just a couple of friends who are gay and do crime.

Is it a dangerous combo considering their past and the crazy amount of sexual chemistry?

Probably, but it works for them.

“Can I borrow a car again tomorrow?” Santana asks, wanting to fill the heavy silence.

“You know, you don’t have to ask every time right?” Brittany says with her head cocked to the side, “As long as you don’t crash any of them, I don’t care.”

“I was just checking,” Santana nods as Brittany turns back to the tv screen, “I’m going upstate tomorrow.”

“Let me guess,” Brittany replies, “To see a friend?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t want me to come.”

Santana sighs, “It’s not that I don’t want you to. There’s things to be done here and I don’t want both of us to be away if it’s not needed. We’re on such a tight schedule.”

“I know,” Brittany reaches over to squeeze Santana’s knee, “I just wish you weren’t so cryptic all the time. You’re my best friend, my partner-in-crime. You should tell me things.”

Santana bites her lip. Sometimes Brittany makes things sound so easy, so simple.

“I’m sorry, Britt. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine,” Brittany says earnestly, “I’m not mad. It’s just something I’ve noticed lately.”

“Yeah,” Santana mumbles as she starts to get lost in her thoughts.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” Brittany says a moment later and gives Santana’s knee one more squeeze as she stands, “Night, Santana.”

“Goodnight Britt,” Santana says back and watches the blonde make her way up the stairs. She feels a sudden heaviness but she isn’t what caused it. Instead, she just chalks it up to being tired and heads off to bed a little while later too.

\\

Santana leaves at the crack of dawn the next day in hopes of beating the traffic. Brittany isn’t even awake yet, but she feels weird leaving the loft without saying anything so she scribbles down a quick note and slides the piece of paper under Brittany’s bedroom door before heading off:

Hey B,

Off to see that ‘friend’ I’ll be home before dinner. Have a good morning! Xo

– S

\\

As Santana follows the winding road through a neighborhood of massive, cookie-cutter houses, she can’t help but roll her eyes at how basic it all is. If it weren’t for a familiar SUV parked in the driveway, Santana would’ve driven right pass her intended destination.

She parks her car a little ways down the road and walks up, already dialing the number.

It rings once, twice, three times but on the fourth someone finally answers.

“Santana?”

“Hey Q,” Santana smirks at the surprise she hears. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over it, “How are you these days?”

“Uhm, good?”

“And the kid?”

“Also good.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you calling just to ask how I am? Because that’s very odd and completely unlike you.”

“Checking in on one of my oldest friends is unlike me?” Santana answers as she walks up the woman’s driveway and easily unlocks the side gate.

“Uh, yeah. It is.”

“That’s rude.”

“No, it’s accurate. I thought you were in jail.”

“I was. Got out on good behavior.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true.”

“Well, congrats. Now, what do you really want?

Santana wanders into her garage, “For you to come out for a chat.”

The woman laughs down the line, “I don’t even know where you live anymore, Santana.”

“That’s fine,” Santana says, “I’ve come to you.”

“What?”

“I’m in your garage, Fabray.”

“What?!”

Santana soon hears a door leading into the garage open and someone call out, “Mommy will be right back, Beth!” Then it closes and fast footsteps approach until the blonde rounds on Santana. She flinches as the surprise, “What the hell, Lopez!”

“Hey Quinn,” Santana grins as she hangs up the phone and slips it into her pocket.

Quinn shakes her head and laughs, “What the hell are you doing in my garage?”

“Like I said,” Santana shrugs while her eyes go to roam all of the expensive appliances surrounding the room, “I’m here for a chat.”

After knowing Santana almost as long as Brittany has, Quinn knows exactly what that means and goes to cross her arms, “I’m retired.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “People come out of retirement all the time and after you hear what I’ve got up my sleeve you’ll do the same.”

“No, no,” Quinn waves off, “I don’t want to hear what you have to say, Santana. I have to think about my – “

“Family because you’re a mother, “ Santana fills in sarcastically, “I know, I was there when you gave birth for some odd reason.”

“You and Brittany offered!”

“I was just being nice, I didn’t actually want to go,” Santana replies, “That shit scarred me for life! Like, is your vagina okay now?”

Quinn gives her a tired look, “You did not just ask me that.”

“I’m just saying,” Santana holds up her hands in defense, “That was the most fucked up thing I’ve ever se-“

“Mommy!” A small person suddenly cries out as the garage door slams open. The sudden sound has Quinn shoving Santana to the side out of her daughter’s sight, “I’m hungry!”

“Okay baby, I’ll fix you a snack in just a second,” Quinn calls out. She catches Santana mimicking her and slaps her shoulder, “Are you going to tell me why you’re here or not?”

“I need a Fence,” Santana says simply, “I’ve got something big going here and you’re the best of the best.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Quinn eyes her curiously, “But I’m not doing it. Like I said, I’m retired. “

“Bullshit,” Santana scoffs as she looks around at all the stolen goods, “You’re bored with the whole Suzy Homemaker front because if you weren’t you wouldn’t have all this crap hiding in your garage.”

Quinn softens and eyes Santana analytically, “How much are we talking?”

“A lot,” Santana smirks and leans in to whisper Quinn’s proposed cut.

Quinn’s jaw drops at the sound of the amount.

“Sound good to you?”

Quinn sputters out a laugh, “Uh yeah, sounds very good.”

“Excellent,” Santana beams and calls over her shoulder as she turns to leave, “Team meeting is on Monday. Don’t be late.”

“Wait, you have a whole team?”

Santana smirks, “I do now.”

[dontgotothenetherworld]

i myself am cruel and unusual

one day i thought up the line, “lyds what is it you say? 'because i myself am cruel and unusual'?" and this story really blossomed around that one idea. this was really fun to write, and i went a bit outside my usual writing style, so i hope y’all enjoy this!

beetleb*bes, don’t touch this.

2271 words

cw: mention of murder

lydia lounged on the sofa, leafing through her novel, a gothic spanish mystery that she found behind a dusty stack at her local book store. it was quiet, with charles at work, barbara, delia, and adam out shopping, and beetlejuice attending to business in the netherworld, lydia had the house all to herself.

lydia wasn’t used to the silence. it disturbed her. between the off-putting difference in her normal surroundings, and reading about people being conveniently murdered, lydia was on edge. her shoulders were tensed. every few sentences, she’d glance around, searching for something else out of the norm.

she’d learned from the last time she was home alone. beetlejuice had said he was going to be out, but he hid. he played the long game, and after hours of blending into the background, he scared her, and he scared her good. 

rather proud, lydia had gloated that she couldn’t be scared, and the afternoon was a chip to her ego that she’d rather forget.

lydia enjoyed reading, but often found it hard to focus, so she was cherishing this day. even though a little voice in the back of her mind telling her, “do your chemistry homework!”, she kept on.

a low popping sound made its way to her ears. lydia looked up to see the familiar pin striped suit.

”that was horrible. did you even try?” lydia closed her book, keeping her place with her index finger.

”try what?” beetlejuice had a distant look in his eyes.

”to scare me. duh.” lydia replied.

”i wasn’t trying to scare ya, lyds. anyway, if i wanted to, i definitely could.” beetlejuice said quickly. “by the way, what’s that thing that you usually say?”

”what thing?”

”y’know, the whole, uh, “because i myself am cruel and unusual” thing.”

lydia stared at him blankly. “this is a joke, right?”

”no, is it or is it not what you say, come on lyds i need an answer quick.”

”i say “because i, myself am strange and unusual.”” lydia said, her face in an expression of annoyance.

”thanks lyds! you’re the best!” another pop, and beetlejuice was gone.

lydia puzzled over why the ghost would need to know her catchphrase that she didn’t even say very often, before resolving in light giggles.

”cruel and unusual…” lydia muttered to herself before returning to her book.

now safely assured that beetlejuice wasn’t going to try to scare her, lydia sunk back into the cushions, and lost herself in the book. she kept reading, turning each page with vigor, desperate to see how the story ended. what did it all mean? how did all these little clues fit together?

lydia wasn’t able to keep track of all the hints toward the mystery, so she was solely relying on the pages to figure it out for her. 

her eyes widened as-

”lydia! we’re home!” delia called from the front door.

lydia shushed her as her eyes skipped over the words. 

”we got c-” delia continued, confused, before lydia shushed her again. she had to read as fast as physically possible.

lydia had to put her book down. she wasn’t yet finished, but she figured it out.

”as i was saying, we got cookies from that cute new place next to the bank. spoiler alert, i already tried one, and they’re delicious!”

lydia fake scoffed, “spoilers.” she said playfully.

adam peaked out from behind a wall, “where you referencing..” lydia nodded. “yes!” adam pumped his fist in the air.

delia asked, “what were you referencing?”

”i doubt you know it.”

”c’mon, tell me.”

lydia sighed, “doctor who.”

”who?”

”doctor who. more specifically, river song.”

”you’re just saying random words in a random order, you can’t do that just to confuse me! i’m onto you!” delia shouted as lydia, with book in hand, made her way up the stairs and to her room.

”i’m not trying to confuse you, delia! it’s a real thing!” lydia shouted back, before closing her door. she propped her pillow up against her headboard, and slipped her soundproof headphones over her ears, searching for that same serenity she had while reading earlier.

i didn’t quite work, she was still able to hear a bit of a commotion going on downstairs, but it was fine. she only had a few pages of resolution left anyway.

five minutes later, lydia hopped back down the stairs and into the kitchen, with one side of her headphones off her ear. “so,” she started, “i was told we have cookies.”

earlier and a week later to that day, lydia was practically buzzing. her birthday had been that previous wednesday, and she had only asked for one thing; to get her hair done.

now, in the hair salon, accompanied by delia and a ghostly adam, it was about to happen. her hair was presently a little longer than shoulder length and an inky black, with her natural brown roots showing slightly. lydia explained to the hairdresser how she wanted it; a blonde bob.

the trio was there nearly all day. which was a good thing, because charles, barbara, and beetlejuice were working away back home. lydia had claimed that she didn’t want a birthday party, but her family suspected it was because she didn’t want to have to invite any of her school friends. so, they were throwing a family-only party. a surprise party, decked out with as many black or purple decorations as they could buy, with quite a few handmade ones as well.

beetlejuice and charles were in charge of all the decorations, so to say the overall effect was eclectic would be an understatement.

barbara, who had recently discovered her passion for baking, was baking a cake. the batter was mostly chocolate, but there was a second, vanilla, batter throughout the cake, in an attempted spider web kind of look. it didn’t really translate until barbara explained it.

beetlejuice kept crossing through the kitchen to sneak some plum colored icing.

”have you put lipstick on?” asked charles to beetlejuice.

”no, why? do you think i should?” said beetlejuice. when he opened his mouth, charles could see his purple stained teeth and tounge.

deciding to ignore this, charles said, “oh, nevermind.” and went back to draping streamers, mentally calculating how long all of it would take to clean up.

the group of party planners met lydia and her entourage on the steps in front of the house. they all commented flattery as lydia showed off her new look.

”okay, now close your eyes.” said barbara.

lydia was confused, but obliged. barbara held her hand, and guided her through the door and into the home.

once safely inside, she dropped her hand, and ran to the kitchen. “don’t open your eyes yet!” she shouted as adam lit the last candle on top. barbara picked up the cake, and the couple walked back to the living room.

”you can open them know.” said charles.

lydia opened her eyes to see halloween in december. there were fake cobwebs and fake spiders everywhere. (at least lydia hoped they were fake. truth be told, the real things freaked her out a bit.) 

”thank you! thank you guy so much!” tears were fighting to break away from her eyes. lydia gave everyone a big hug, except for barbara, who was still holding the cake. when she turned to the ghost, everyone began singing happy birthday, and lydia finally started crying full on tears.

she blew out the candles, all sixteen of them, in one breath.

”okay so important question; cake or presents first?” asked beetlejuice, who not so secretly hope cake was first.

”presents?” asked lydia, turning around. she finally spotted a small pile sitting where she normally resided on the sofa. “well, i have to get to those first.” lydia walked over to them.

”i’m just going to put this down in the kitchen, i’ll be right back.” said barbara.

when barbara returned, lydia gave her the hug that she owed her, before sitting down to inspect the presents.

”which one should i open first…” there were four relatively small packages. charles’ gift to her being the trip to the salon, of course.

”you should save the best for last, so not mine.” said beetlejuice.

lydia chuckeld, and started on her gift from delia. a black crystal necklace.

”you probably don’t want to know what it does, but i thought i would fit with your whole,” delia gestured with her hands. “vibe.”

”you got it just right.” lydia grinned. “you’ll have to rip it from my cold, dead body in order to get me to stop wearing it.” she said, as she fastened it around her neck.

delia tried to ignore the gruesome comment, but everyone could tell it bugged her.

”i hope you like it!” adam said as lydia began to rip open the gift he had gotten her. 

she opened the cardboard box to find a lilac mug, with a ceramic cat at the bottom, and a seemingly infinite number of different teas.

lydia held up the mug and exclaimed, “just like your dog one! now we can be tea buddies!”

”only if you finally try my special earl grey.” adam pointed to a tea at the top of the pile.

”it’ll be a struggle, but i’ll get through it for you.” lydia joked.

moving on to barbara’s gift, and with beetlejuice getting a little impatient (maybe this whole “save the best for last” thing wasn’t really a good idea for this impatient demon), lydia got to the gift quickly. she held up the dark material. “a leather jacket!” lydia immediately went to put it on.

”it’s faux leather, of course. and it’s kind of boring right now, i know that, so i fully expect you to do your whole punk-y diy thing to it.” said barbara.

the jacket didn’t quite fit. it was a little large, but it didn’t entirely go over her hands. it was exactly how she wanted it. “thank you, so much, barbara! i couldn’t of picked it out better myself.”

barbara smiled.

”okay! best for last! open mine now, lyds!” beetlejuice shoved his, hand-wrapped, package into her hands. “read the card first!” he said as lydia inspected the questionable wrapping.

she carefully opened the bright yellow envelope. inside was a piece of light gray construction paper, folded in half to make a card. on the front was a crayon drawing of herself and beetlejuice, high-fiving. the two had sunglasses on, and lydia was saying, “because i myself am cool and unusual.” in beetlejuice’s sloppy handwriting. inside, was a message that read, “love u lots lyds happy sweet 16 & i promise i wont try to marry you again xoxo beeblebouse”

”beej, thank you s-”

”you haven’t even opened your gift, c’mon, open it!” beetlejuice bounced his leg impatiently.

lydia picked up the rectangular box and shook it a little. it felt like nothing was in there. lydia raised an eyebrow.

”open it!”

inside was a square piece of paper, with black words on it; “i owe u 1 kitty”

”beej, what?”

a pop and he had disappeared. the rest of the family looked around, confused. 

another pop, and beetlejuice returned, but this time with multiple kitties in hand. 

”i call this one sunshine, and this one bastard, and this one mary jane, and this one beans, and this one our supreme and almighty ruler.” beetlejuice pointed at the different cats. “but you can name the one you pick whatever you want, these are just ideas, anyway, pick one!”

lydia was attacked by the little animals. one kitty, a white one with a black spot over its eye licked lydia’s hand. she picked it up. “this one.”

”ah yes, beans. good choice.” beetlejuice said, although he murmured something about our supreme and almighty ruler underneath his breath.

”you should, “charles cleared his throat, “probably take the rest of these back to where they came from.”

”right! yes!” beetlejuice snapped and all the other kitties floated up. he went around plucking them out of the air until he had them all, and pop! went to return them.

lydia hugged beans to her chest. 

”are you going to keep the name beans?” asked delia.

”yeah, probably.

”good boy, beans is.” said adam, placing his hand on lydia’s shoulder. and then after a moment, “beans is a boy, right?”

”as far as i know, yeah. but i don’t think cats can really communicate to us what their gender is.” lydia looked up at her ghost dad.

another pop and beetlejuice reappeared. “who’s up for some cake?” he lead the march to the kitchen.

”okay, so, it’ll taste great, it just looks kinda off.” barbara said, getting a knife out to cut slices for everyone. “it’s supposed to have spiderwebs on the inside, not because i think spiderwebs are your favorite thing or anything, lydia, it’s because i thought it would be easy. i was wrong.”

charles placed the plates on the table. “well, let’s dig in!”

barbara cut lydia her piece first, which was practically a quarter of the entire thing. “what are you talking about? barbara, this looks so good!” she shoveled a bite into her mouth and her eyes went wide. “oh wow it tastes incredible too.” 

”thank you, lydia” barbara smiled. 

once the others had their pieces, beetlejuice took the rest of the cake. it wasn’t a completely unreasonably sized piece so nobody stopped him.

they spent the rest of the night watching lydia’s favorite movies; an odd mix of horor, comedy, and disney.

lydia went to sleep knowing that her sixteenth year was going to be a good one.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly

just by the way, the book lydia’s reading at the beginning is called marina by carlos ruiz zafon. i’m reading the english translation right now (hopefully the ending is good!) and it just feels like something that lydia would like.

[onyxmin]

When the Were Bites

You accidentally let a werewolf into your house

It's a few weeks before Halloween and you are getting ready for the next full moon, which happens to be the night before the 31st. It became dark about an hour ago and you need some herbs for decorations from your backyard. Might as well grab what you’ll need for dinner tomorrow too.

You step out onto the patio, and with a snap of your fingers you have light illuminating from some of your outdoor candles. Mint, sage and coriander are the closest to you and then head towards the section of your garden where your nightshade is hidden in plain sight.

Once you have grabbed everything you need and begin to turn back in the direction of the house, you hear a loud rustling between the trees directly behind you. You slowly turn on your heel to see if you can see anything and are met with glowing yellow eyes. It is too low to be an owl and way too tall to be a stray cat. Despite being a supernatural being yourself, you just think its a wild dog and head back inside.

Everything you picked from outside, is quickly set down on the kitchen counter. Then, you search for two larger bowls to fill with cold water and some scraps leftover from dinner. The bowls are taken outside to be set down on the far side of your patio. You leave the candles lit and head back inside.

A few hours go by and you are startled from your reading by a loud crash coming from the backyard. With your mind, you quickly bookmark the page as you hurdle over the back of the plush couch in your fully decorated living room. You peek outside and see the candles are no longer lit but you can faintly hear some shuffling out there.

Normally one might think there might be a person trying to get into your house but you knew that couldn't be. Even if there were, with your vast knowledge of spells you'd be safe. Flicking on the porch light would probably scare whatever’s out there so you just sit and listen. A deep and heavy breathing accompanied by a scratching noise can be heard through the crack in the nearby kitchen window. You are super curious to see what kind of animal you possibly lured into your backyard but it's way too dark to see. Of course there are plenty of spells to fix that but you can’t think of one off the top of your head.

Soon it grows quiet outside so you turn on the porch light and you quickly catch a glimpse of a giant dog hopping over your fence and tailing it back to the treeline. Before the big mass of fur disappears, its head whips around and you meet those glowing yellow eyes once more before they vanish out of sight.

Night after night you now leave the porch light on and keep refilling the same bowls you leave out for your visitor. You like the company even though you are inside while the stray dog quietly eats its meal outside. Sometimes it will stay long after your offerings are gone and lay out on the patio furniture strewn about. You don’t mind since it’s now cold out and it’s not like they’re being used anyways.

Tonight it seems like the dog waits for you to get ready for bed before leaving. You just finished brushing your teeth and changing into pajamas before checking outside and turning off all the lights. When you reach the sliding door heading outback, you startle seeing the dog sitting a foot or two away from the door and peering inside. You cautiously approach the door and gently wave at the mutt. It stands up and looks like it nods at you before bounding away, up and over the fence once more before it's gone. You retrieve the bowls and set them into the sink before turning off the lights, checking that the doors are locked and head to bed.

Several nights go by and no sign of the stray dog. You’re honestly worried it didn't like the leftovers from the last time it stopped by and maybe even thought someone else was feeding it better than you possibly could. You cleaned up the bowls but put fresh water back outside just in case your new furry acquaintance might return.

It's a little past midnight when you go check on the back door to make sure it's locked when you happen to notice a big hunched over figure slowly making its way toward the fence. You turn the light switch on and see the dog you are now familiar with but something seems off. Once the dog approaches the fence, it puts its front paws up on the chain links but is unable to do much more than that. You realize its hurt.

In an instant, the door is unlocked and flung open before you dash towards the fence separating you from the big midnight black dog. It cowers a bit once you reach the gate.

“Hey, its ok. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You coo softly as you unlock the gate and flip up the latch.

You slowly open the gate and step away to see if it will come inside. The dog lowers itself back onto the ground and heads in your direction. You hold a hand out so it can sniff you as it passes. Its large snout snuffles your hand, making you giggle due to the tickling sensation on your palm. You close and lock the gate and wait upon the porch.

The dog makes it up the last step and collapses. You rush over, checking for a pulse and any wounds. Clearly it's passed out from exhaustion but no wounds can be seen. The thick black fur and the mattedness of it doesn't help in the search for any injuries.

You try desperately to lift the dog up but no luck, it has to weigh just as much as you! You cradle its head at least as you rack your brain for a specific spell to help you out during your current situation. It doesn’t take you long before one comes to mind and you start to chant an incantation, one to make a living thing or object weightless. Now you are able to carry the dog with ease and bring it into your home.

You lay the exhausted dog down on a heap of blankets in front of the fireplace. Quickly getting to work on making sure it's comfortable, grabbing some fresh water for it to drink once it wakes up and starting a small fire. You re-lock the back door and head to bed, hoping the dog will be awake and feeling better in the morning.

As soon as you awake, you wipe the sleep from your eyes and throw on your favorite hoodie before heading out into the living room. What you find is not what you were expecting.

A man. A completely naked man lay before you on the pile of blankets you set out last night. At least he was partially covered by one of the blankets, thank the stars. You held in a squeak, making sure not to wake him from his deep slumber. Quietly, you approached the man to check to see how he was holding up.

You tentatively pressed two fingers down on his throat, he was alive. You thanked the stars once more. You noticed he seemed flushed and way too warm to the touch. Your hand traveled up to his forehead, he was burning up. Nothing a cold rag and poultice couldn’t help!

After retrieving the cold rag and pressing it to his forehead, you set to work on the poultice. If you wanted to ensure the success rate, the longer it would take to make but you had to make sure this stranger was ok. It didn't even cross your mind through the shock, confusion, and worry that you had a werewolf in your house.

So focused on making sure the poultice is perfect, you don't hear the man in the other room stir. When you turn around to grab something out of one of the covers you see him sitting up. You blink and stand there unmoving, unsure of what you should do. He blinks back at you and raises his hand in a wave, making you smile.

He then looks down and sees the current state he’s in, clutching the blanket closer and muttering, “Oh shit.”

You feel yourself blush and lightly laugh before grabbing what you originally needed and turn away. “How are you feeling?” You gently call out to him.

“I feel like my skin has been set on fire and kind of disoriented. Uh, thanks for letting me in through the gate last night. I didn’t have a place to go and coming here was the first place I thought of.”

You hum in response, mulling over what he said. Then it clicks. He’s the dog. Who shifted into a human, probably during a state of duress and weakness. You let a werewolf into your house!

“You didn’t realize did you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Not at first no. Should I be worried though? I mean not to stereotype you or anything but most weres are.. dangerous and aggressive.”

He smiles and shakes his head, causing you to release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were unsure what to say next so you set your attention on finishing up the task at hand and made a mental note to get him some clothes.

As soon as you finished, you grabbed a mug and filled it with hot water. With a flick of your wrist, a tea bag appeared in the steaming mug. You grabbed the poultice and tea to give to the unnamed werewolf.

“Here, drink up.” You handed him the mug, which he took gladly.

“First off, hi I’m Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you.”

“I’m Yoongi, nice to officially meet you too.” He says with a small smile before taking a sip of the tea you gave him.

You just remembered he needs some clothes. You close your eyes and in your mind, you search your closet for the biggest pair of sweats you own and a baggy t-shirt. Once they are found, you have them float into the living room with a snap of your fingers.

You know you’ve caught Yoongi off guard when you hear a low growl coming from the back of his throat When you open your eyes, you can see the hair on his arms bristling due to the newly appeared clothes laid flat on the couch.

“I am so sorry! I did not mean to startle you.” You tell him sincerely, lightly reaching your hand out to touch his hand. He calms and looks down at your hand.

“Ah sorry. I tend to forget personal space sometimes. But speaking of that, what happened last night? I know you must be in pain so I made this.” You motion towards the bowl in your other hand.

He eyes the bowl and sniffs the air, scrunching his nose in the process. You laugh at his reaction and how cute he looks with his nose like that.

He just glares at you for laughing and waits for you to stop. He then clears his throat and takes a few more sips of tea before speaking.

“Well to answer your question, the local pack that's been trying to recruit me doesn’t like the fact that I have been visiting you and taking your leftover scraps. They have no idea you are a witch and if they did, I would probably be in much worse condition than I am now. So because I refused to stop visiting you, they tried to get the message across. One of them fucking bit me so I returned the favor tenfold. They look worse than me.”

You feel saddened by what they did to him but you can’t help but smile that he took them all on by himself just so he could stand by his own beliefs. Especially just so he could continue visiting you.

“Where are you hurt? I know you can heal quicker than humans but it still needs to be treated. The venom will slow down the healing process that you could get an infection. That’s probably why you feel like you're on fire.”

Yoongi cautiously rolls up the blanket, revealing a huge bite mark right above his left knee. You inhale sharply, seeing how painful it is and even more so because it's definitely infected.

You coat your hand with the poultice and delicately smear it over the bite. You get a hiss in reply and a hand gripping your free one tightly. He sure has super strength but you ignore him crushing your hand and finish dressing his wound. You’re about to ask if he’s been hurt anywhere else when you notice a dark purple bruise peeking out from the top of the blanket, right below his ribcage. You are seething at this point.

You quickly stood up, grabbing the baggy sweatpants and throw them at his face. His reflexes were quick, he barely dodged getting smacked in the face by the airborne sweats.

“Put those on and make sure the left pant leg is rolled up so it doesn’t irritate your bite. As soon as you're done, I need to attend to that nasty bruise. You might have a broken rib or two.” You spin around on your heel after barking out an order and wait for him to get dressed so you can finish getting him on the mend.

You hear a chuckle behind you.

“No privacy?” You can just tell he’s smirking right now.

“I told you already I have no personal space. Plus by the time I left the room, you’d already be dressed. You done now?”

“All yours witchy poo.” You whip around and glare at him. With a snack of your fingers, a pillow is sent flying at his face at lightning speed. He was too slow to dodge that and it surely wiped that smirk off his face.

You plop down onto the floor in front of Yoongi and wait for him to give you the ok to see if he’s broken any ribs. He knows this will probably hurt so he latches on to one of your hands again before nodding. You lightly skim your fingers over the bruise, waiting for a reaction. Nothing. Slowly you start applying pressure to see what hurts and what doesn’t. He’s a trooper so far but you can’t tell if anything is broken or not. This is going to hurt.

You press down harder, feeling a fracture in one of his ribs and more your hand up to check the others when a loud yowl rips through your ear canals and you are tackled to the ground.

“Hey, hey it's ok! I’m really sorry but I need to make sure you don’t have any more fractures.” Yoongi growls above you but goes back to his sitting position, doing his best to sit still. Before taking another feel of his possibly broken ribs, you plop down in front of him and cast a spell to keep him immobilized.

You move to the rib above the one that's fractured, and now you scream in pain. He bit you!

“How in the hell did you do that?! You can’t move!” He still somehow managed to fight against your spell a bit and latch on to your shoulder. You quickly use the remaining poultice on his bruise and move away before removing the immobilization spell.

“That hurt!” He growled at you.

“Oh, like biting me wouldn’t hurt either?!” You shake your head, placing your hand over the mark on your shoulder and begin to close up the wound. Bites by supernatural beings that are taken care of properly and quickly will heal and disappear, with or without magic.

The wound closes but the mark doesn’t fade. You try again but still nothing. You glance over and see Yoongi staring at you wide-eyed.

“What now?”

He’s silent for a moment or two before speaking.

“I don’t think that’s going to go away. Bites by a werewolf that leave a scar behind means you’re my soulmate.”

You feel like you’re going to faint. You have never heard of a witch being a soulmate to any other supernatural besides another witch. Sure vampires and werewolves can have a soulmate of the opposite species but never this. But a part of you is elated by this news, you’ve already grown attached to this man in dog form and you can’t deny that he's very handsome in human form.

“Do you think that’s why you were drawn here, to me? And felt like you had to protect me from the others?”  You ask quietly, looking straight into his soft brown eyes. He holds your stare and nods, a cute smile adorning his lips.

“Well looks like you’re stuck with me!”

It's the day before  All Hallows Eve and you are now officially living with a werewolf. His wounds have finally completely healed and he’s feeling right at home. You’ve grown much closer during his slow healing process due to that nasty bite on his leg. But it's the full moon tonight and that means it's his first change while living with you. You’re nervous, especially now that he won’t be home until the moon disappears from the morning sky.

He reassures you everything will be fine, he won’t be able to hurt you if he’s back out in the woods. He has come to learn you are a natural worrier and that makes him drawn to you even more. Yoongi hugs you tight and kisses you on the forehead before releasing you from his bear-like grip.

“Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be back before you know it. Safe and sound ok? I promise.” With that he’s out the door and scaling the fence, heading deep into the heart of the woods.

When Yoongi returns home early in the morning, he finds you curled up on the couch.

“I told you not too wide up for me silly girl.” He whispers. He scoops you up with ease and carries you back to your bedroom.

He gently sets you down and goes to grab some blankets when he feels a hand wrapped around his wrist, lightly tugging. His free hand grips the blankets and pulls them over you before attempting to break free from your hold. For a sleeping witch, you are still pretty strong.

Yoongi gives in and climbs into bed, curling up beside you. You immediately snuggle up into his warmth. You may have only known each other for a very short amount of time, but you’re soulmates. Might as well get used to each other, nothing better like the present.

Soon Yoongi is drifting off to sleep too. Eager to spend your favorite time of year with you and tell you how much he missed you during his date with the full moon.

[sebthesnipe]

‘The Only Virgil’

February Prompts 2/19

Prompt List

First // Previous // Next

The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Waste / Warmth

Ship: Prinxiety and logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Logan stretched, claws extending from his paws as his back arched, a yawn escaping him. It was nice to finally have a roof over their heads. It had been awhile since either of the witches had slept in a bed as well. He flopped onto his side, soaking up the sun that shone through the window of the tiny room, basking in its warmth. 

They had arrived at the village the day before and found the closest inn to purchase a room. Roman, of course, had a number of things to say in response to discovering that they were all meant to share one room. Eventually Virgil caved and allowed the man to purchase a second, under the guise that it would be improper for a lord to bed with his underlings. In all honesty, the guy was definitely taking the whole ruse a bit too seriously. Still, Virgil was a bit more at ease not having to face the man’s morning routine; which, according to Logan was extensive.

The group had split in two, Logan and Roman in one room, Patton and Virgil in the other. Everyone seemed to have their protests at Virgil’s room assignments but they all came around eventually.

“Do you really plan on lounging about all day?” Virgil grumbled as he pulled on his other boot, shooting the cat a glare. “We have to be moving on soon and supplies need to be gathered. It would be easier if you put in your fair share of work.” 

‘Yes, because  merchants would most certainly love to barter with a feline.’ Logan replied sarcastically, tail flicking lazily back and forth. 

“At least I’m trying to be productive,” Virgil hissed in return. “Meanwhile, you’re just being a waste of space.”

‘Virgil,’ He could practically hear the sigh in the projected voice, “tensions caused by becoming hyper focused on tasks at hand can become unhealthy if you are not careful.’

“Yeah, well, someone has to make sure we’re being careful!” Virgil shot back, moving to pull on his cloak, “Plus, somehow, I got stuck on babysitting duty. Princey thinks he can buy everything in sight and Patton won’t stop his screeching every time we walk by a shop, or a child, or a stray. I am pretty sure he started squealing at a piece of trash yesterday. The man has an unhealthy obsession with anything that could be considered ‘cute'. So, I’m afraid that ‘Tense Virgil’ is ‘The Only Virgil’ you’re getting today.”

Logan gave another stretch, both front and back paws extended before he rolled off the window sill, landing on his feet just beneath it with a resounding plop. He gave one more yawn before striding over to the witch and jumping on the bed next to him. 

‘I apologize that I am unable to assist you in our errands, Virgil. I do hope you understand my reasoning.’ The cat offered, peering up at him with those mismatched eyes. 

Virgil glanced down to meet his gaze, his frown deepening before he pulled up his hood to hide it. He hated when Logan used that soft tone against him; the bastard knew that Virgil was weak against it and took full advantage of that fact. 

“I do,” the witch growled in annoyance, “if anyone saw a raccoon traveling with you guys, they would ask too many questions, and your whole shirtless thing could be an issue too. I understand the reasons, Logan.” Of course, knowing the reasons and liking them were two different things. 

There was a lapse in their conversation as Virgil moved to stand, beginning to pack a bag for the day. 

The witch still wasn’t quite sure what was going on between Logan and Patton, but he was not about to let the tiny man have a chance to work more of the spell he was putting on his friend, whatever it was. As for Patton, Virgil was fairly sure part of the reason he was so keen on bunking with Virgil’s partner was simply because of his feline affliction.  

‘It seems that you had acquired the majority of the supplies we needed during your trip into the market yesterday. Perhaps you could take the opportunity to do something you enjoy today? If you are worried about Roman and Patton, I will remain with them to make sure nothing happens.’ Logan offered, jumping down from the bed and moving to sit next to the door. 

“Something I enjoy?” Virgil scoffed, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “What could I possibly enjoy, surrounded by so many normal people?” 

‘Well,’ Logan offered, knowing full well how much Virgil detested society, ‘I happened to have been gathering some information about the local area during our time apart yesterday and may have a few suggestions.’

“I am all ears,” the man hissed sarcastically, turning to face the feline.

‘There is a musical troupe on the north side of the village that has the townspeople quite enthusiastic,’ Logan offered in return. He still didn't quite understand the expression ‘all ears’, despite Virgil's countless explanations. Nothing could be 'all ears'. It would be unrealistic and useless.

“Which means there will be a crowd. I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

‘There is also a book shop near the noble district.’

That had Virgil hesitating. Logan knew how much the man loved reading. In fact, he had never met anyone that had a similar passion for the written word outside of himself, though their prefered subject matter differed greatly. It had been some time since Virgil had managed to get his hands on a new book. Maybe he could just take a quick look, if he just happened to be in the area. 

‘And while you are there, perhaps you could attain a small text for myself?’

“Ah, I see,” Virgil mused, with a small smile. “So, the truth comes out. You just want me to go because you found a book that you want.” The accusation had Logan’s tail twitching as he lifted a paw to rub against one of his ears, almost as if the cat was nervous.

‘I will admit, I had hoped you would find the opportunity preferable for my own gain, but I would not fault you for refusing.’

“Relax, Logan,” Virgil chuckled. “I’ll swing by and pick up your book. Now come on, I left Patton and Roman to go down for breakfast by themselves, there is no telling how much trouble those two have already gotten into.”

…………………….

The witches found both Patton and the prince at a small table in the corner of the common room. Roman lounged against the wall, head resting against it as he snored softly. It was obvious that the inconsistent sleeping schedule he now found himself on was taking its toll. The red cloak Patton had given the prince was currently draped across the sleeping man’s broad chest like some sort of blanket, most likely the tiny man’s doing as well. 

The smaller man in question sat next to Roman’s sleeping form, the prince’s muscled figure making him look almost childlike in comparison as he toyed with a number of small flowers that littered the table, humming a soft tune. 

It took a moment for Patton to notice Virgil and his furry companion resting on his shoulder. As soon as he did however, he shot them a large broad smile and motioned them over. 

“Well, hey there!” Patton greeted in his usual sunny way as the two witches drew closer, “I was starting to worry you two were going to miss breakfast. The food here is really paw-some.” The wink he provided was certainly an unnecessary attachment to such a torturous pun.

Logan eyed the small man carefully. Despite the fact that he had managed to sleep longer last night than the other three, Patton looked tired. Dark circles rimmed the bottom of his eyes, his cheeks a bit flushed. The sight was certainly cause for concern when considering what the man actually was. Logan did not have much knowledge of dragons, but there had been nothing in the lore that mentioned that they were prone to illness. 

Virgil moved to sink into the chair across from the smaller man, pushing away the empty plate in front of Roman to make a bit of extra room. He glanced at the larger man, pursing his lips in frustration. He just couldn't understand how someone so obnoxious, even in his sleep, could still look so perfect. As if to prove his point, the prince snored loudly to the point that the sound startled himself awake with a jerk. 

"I think I will pass this time, thanks.” Virgil said in response to Patton, “There are a few more things I'd like to do before we leave," Virgil explained as Roman ran a clumsy hand through his curls, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. The witch’s face heated slightly at the sight of Roman's half lidded expression, messy curls framing his face haphazardly.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, kiddo. You really should eat something," Patton countered with worry in his voice. 

"I’ll pick up something on the way. For now, I need you two to stay here with Logan," he instructed. 

"Wait," Roman's groggy voice interrupted, making Virgil finally meet his tired gaze. "You mean, you plan on going out into the village alone?"

 The prince’s words earned a glare from the witch. Why did this man make him feel so flustered? "Yeah, what of it?" Virgil growled. 

"Well, that simply won't do!" Roman replied, his voice booming with the regal tone Virgil was starting to grow accustomed to. "A gentleman such as yourself should not be walking the streets alone! People would get the wrong idea! What if something happened? What if you were attacked or mugged?!"

"I'm pretty sure that wouldn't happen” Virgil scoffed. "Besides, even if it did, they would end up getting the short end of the stick," Roman's concern was endearing, but far too over dramatic for the witch's taste. 

"Nevertheless, I shall accompany you!" Roman interjected with a flourish of his hands. 

"No."

'No.’

Virgil tensed as he felt the word brush against his mind at the same time he had spoken. He glanced at the source: the small cat now sitting in the chair next to him.

Logan's tail twitched anxiously as he peered up at the two men. With the way things were going, it would be unwise to allow the prince and his partner to spend anytime alone together. Despite his emotional shortcomings, Logan could see that Virgil was warming up to the prince. The closer the two got, the more likely the vision would come true. He was not going to let that happen. 

Virgil's gaze narrowed in response to Logan's reaction, his frown deepening. Logan had never forbade Virgil from doing anything before, so why now? Why was he so adamant about this? Was it because of Patton? Did he not want to be alone with the pyromancer? 

Virgil's gaze shifted to the smaller man who smiled brightly at him. No, it wasn't that Logan didn't want to be alone with Patton. Patton seemed thrilled by the idea of staying behind, bouncing in his chair with excitement. If Virgil had to guess it was just due to the fact that he got to spend more time with Logan in his cat form.

No, Logan didn't want Virgil and Roman to be alone. Was that the reason for the room assignments? But why? And why was Logan hiding something from him? Secrecy was so unlike the feline. 

"On second thought," Virgil offered, pulling his gaze away from the cat and spotting the pout that had apparently settled on Roman's features. "Why not?"

"Really?!" Roman brightened instantly, the shining look so luminous it should have been illegal.

"Sure, like you said, people would get the wrong idea, and I'm supposed to be one of your servants, right?" Virgil offered. He could feel their other two companions eyes on him, boring holes into his very soul. 

'Virgil… I know what you are doing,' Logan's voice came, 'This is childish. You need a healthy amount of time to yourself. You have said it multiple times, the prince makes you tense. How are you expected to relax?'

Virgil ignored him, pushing to his feet before pointedly meeting both Logan's and Patton's gaze as if in defiance. Logan's scramble to convince Virgil to leave the prince behind only seemed to reinforce his theory. Perhaps taking Roman with him would give the witch an opportunity to see what the other man knew about the situation and why they were being lied to. 

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly