#because i basically wear the same five shirts on rotation and it's starting to get pathetic

[balsee]

WHERE are the nightcrawler t-shirts?? where are they???

[aackxrmxn]

CHAPTER TWO: Healing Nicely - You're Ours Mesh'la (NSFW) Bad Batch Series

Warnings: Established poly relationship, unprotected sex, slight choking kink, oversensitivity, slight hair pulling kink, Crosshair being mean ASF at the end :(, swearing, being called inappropriate names.

Plot: With your foot healing nicely, and time off from your duties, Tech and Hunter patiently wait for their promised time to spend with you.

Word Count: 3.7K+

Pronouns of Reader: She/Her

Gender of Reader: Female

Pairing: Hunter x Reader, Tech x Reader, Crosshair x Reader, Echo x Reader, Wrecker x Reader.

Author's Note: I'm back and better than ever! Welcome to the Tech and Hunter chapter! This chapter is probably poorly written (as I may have written this too late at night), but I still hope you enjoy the content! Once again, don't forget to like it and reblog as they help immensely! If I have forgotten any triggers/warnings, please let me know and I will add them. Strikethroughs mean the chapter is still being worked on, so keep in tune for when it is released! Happy reading!

THIS SERIES: << Chapter One: The Incident || Chapter Three: Waiting Patiently >> OTHER: << Masterlist || Wattpad || Tiktok >>

Taglist: @lackofhonor, @spp2011, @cynderquest (fill this form out to be added to taglist! Strikethroughs mean I couldn't tag you for whatever reason).

-.-.-

You woke to a sudden jolt, the ground shaking slightly. That's when you heard the annoyed voice of Crosshair, "Wrecker, will you quit it? Some of us aren't as cheery as you in the mornings." He grumbled and you rolled in your bed, the covers twisting around you as you opened your eyes.

You saw Crosshair sitting at the seats in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed together as he sipped the hot coffee in his mug. He was wearing just his blacks, but without a shirt and you bit your lip.

"See something you like, princess?" He asked suddenly and you giggled as you closed your eyes and rolled to your back before throwing the blankets off you and stood up. Tech and Echo were still asleep, snoring lightly beside you, Hunter was probably in the refresher as you saw the door closed and the dull red light showing the words of 'occupied'.

Slowly walking over to Crosshair, you took a seat next to him. He didn't turn to face you, but you saw the subtle hint of a smirk on his face. "Good morning, love." You whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact.

"AW, what about me?!" Wrecker basically yelled, scarring Echo awake and Tech groaned and rolled to face the wall, slamming his pillow over his ears.

"Sh," both you and Crosshair hissed and Wrecker shyly apologised. "Come 'ere, big boy." You opened your arms and Wrecker took to opportunity to pick you up and spin you around playfully.

You kissed his chin as he set you down and felt another pair of hands on your hips then. You turned and gawked at the sight of wet-haired Hunter with no bandana on. "There any hugs left for me?" He asked and you happily leant into his arms and snuggled into him as his arms wrapped around you tightly.

"Good morning, Hunter." You whispered, knowing his was particularly sensitive to sound in the mornings; Wrecker probably not helping with his oversensitivity.

"Morning, cupcake." The nickname made you smile with a curiosity, cupcake... You had never been called that before. You heard Crosshair sniggered before getting up from the seat and making his way to the kitchen.

You pulled away to inspect Crosshair getting another cup of caff, yeah, he was the coffee addict in the Batch. "Never been called that before." You said with a giggle as you looked up at the tattooed man.

"Get used to it." He whispered, he then leant down to your ear, "unless you want to be called something a little more... degrading." You practically moaned at how deep and husky his voice was against your ear.

He leant back up then with a smirk and you squirmed in his arms still wrapped around you. "I wouldn't be opposed to the name, Sarge." His smirk widened, a darkness covering his eyes and you wriggled out of his grasp and walked over to the kitchen with Crosshair.

You placed a hand on his back and hugged him from behind as you saw he was turning on the stove to make eggs. He stiffened under your touch and pulled away quickly. You frowned, watching as he went to get the other ingredients.

"Don't take it too personally, Crosshair isn't much of a cuddlier." Tech then said beside you and you jumped a little, not realising his was there. You calmed down then and leant into his side. "I see your leg looks a little better. Angling your foot definitely had sped up the healing process."

You looked down at your leg as well, "y- yeah, it doesn't hurt too bad today." You said and smiled up at the genius of a man. "What do you have planned for today?" You asked then as he helped you to the chair where you sighed into as Tech turned on the warmer.

"Nothing really, maybe fixing up some of my incomplete projects. Crosshair, Echo and Wrecker were going see some of the markets that the Kaminoans had put together." Tech explained, kneeling down to inspect your swollen ankle and you winced as he unwrapped it.

"That's today?" You asked. "So this would be our first year anniversary of meeting each other?"

Every rotation, the Kaminoans put up some stalls in the cafeteria for the clones. It was basically the clones day off from duties and they could have fun with some of the games that were there. You remembered last rotation you had taken Jesse and Fives there and played 'tag and go'. Let's just say, some of the Kaminoans didn't like you breaking the chairs and tables as you leaped over them and hid. That was the same day you ran into Echo by accident, him splattering apologies left and right as he spilt his red, frozen drink all over you. You had laughed it off and he soon joined in too, and the other Batch members stood by him. It was a good day, and a day you wouldn't forget.

"Technically, yes." He said as he rotated your ankle slowly and softly. "I will give you some time with the compression wrap off to give your foot some air to breath." Tech stood then and went over and grabbed you a large cup of coffee. You felt the chair beside you dip then and turned to the other side to see Echo looking at you with adoration in his beautiful honey eyes.

"Good morning," he greeted and leant in slowly to press a kiss to your temple, hesitant like you were going to push him away. "Are you going to come and join us?" He then looked at your foot, realisation covering his face and he apologised.

"Echo, baby, don't apologise. You apologise too much," You giggled as you placed a hand on his stomach gently and leaned towards him to kiss his lips. He basically whimpered into your mouth and melted against you. "But no, I think I might chill out here today if you don't mind."

"Of course not, ma'am." He said and you giggled at the name. First cupcake, and now ma'am? It warmed your heart.

You leant into his ear then, "you know where you could call me that?" Echo's cheeks heated up drastically and he stuttered as he was about to speak, but Wrecker's hands came down on the back of the chair, almost tipping it with you and Echo seated on it.

"You ready, Echo?" He asked loudly, and Echo cleared his throat before nodding, giving you one glance back at you before getting up.

"The only reason why I'm going is because Kix said there was sniper gear there." Crosshair said, his usual scowl on his face. "Don't you dare bring me into any of your games." He warned Wrecker, pointing an accusing finger at him.

They left then and Tech handed you the caff he made before going over to his bunk and began fiddling with some wires and a piece of metal. "You're not going?" You asked Hunter as he sat beside you.

"No, I don't think I could handle it this rotation. It's too loud there, I barely survived last rotation." He explained and threw an arm over your shoulders and bought you closer to him. There was a silence then, just the quiet hum of Tech's gear as he continued to work on something. "So, we calling you mesh'la now?"

You laughed then, Tech looking over at you with a small smile. "Looks like it." You said and closed your eyes as you sipped the hot coffee, a small moan leaving your lips as the incredible taste. "Plus, I thought you wanted to call me cupcake, now?" You shot back and watched as Hunter's eyes made their way to your lips.

"Depends," he started, "cupcake is for the sweet and innocent you, mesh'la when you're being good, and well... something else if you've been bad."

"What if I'm extra bad?" You whispered then, watching how he licked his lips and his eyes roamed your face. "Would I be your dirty little slut?" You taunted.

You gasped as Hunter suddenly laid you back on the couch and giggled as his eyes dilated. "You better watch your mouth, mesh'la."

"I thought I was being called that when I was good." You commented, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. "Why not call me your dirty little slut?" You asked huskily as Hunter groaned in your ear and nipped lightly at the sensitive skin under it. You fluttered your ears closed at the sensation.

"What? You wanna be a dirty little slut for us?" You moaned as he spoke against your neck and licked up it, leaving a hot trail in his wake. "Wanna be a good girl for us, or be a dirty little whore?"

You opened your eyes and made eye contact with Tech and smirked. "Depends if Tech will eat me out this time." You felt the wetness pool between your legs, hot and heavy breaths coming from your mouth as Hunter went lower, his damp hair on your skin setting fire in your belly.

He tugged your shirt off then, revealing the smooth skin of your stomach. "Maker," Hunter sighed, hands sprawling out on your stomach. "You're so beautiful." You blushed at his comment and felt Tech lift your head so he could situate himself there, your head in his lap.

Hunter ventured further, hands now kneeding the tops of your thighs and your wriggled impatiently before he took your sleep shorts off, careful of your injured foot. "Hunter," You slurred, you panted as you felt his fingers rub you over your underwear.

"Be patient, mesh'la." Tech mumbled, eyes transfixed on your squirming form beneath him. You tried to stop moving, grabbing onto Tech's pyjama pants as you felt your underwear being slowly pulled down from you.

"Maker," Hunter breathed again at seeing your already soaked core in front of him. "Every part of you is truly gorgeous, cupcake." He practically groaned as he began to kiss your inner thighs.

A shaky breath came from your throat at the contact, "please Hunter, don't tease." You begged, hands moving to cup his cheek. He looked up you with a glint in his eyes before slowly leaning in to lick up your pussy, never breaking eye contact.

The air left your lungs, feeling the sensation of Hunter's tongue on your lower lips and threw your head back against Tech's body. "Fuuuck, that's so good." You moaned as he circled the tip of his tongue around your clit. You whined as Tech's hand came down to kneed the soft plushiness of your breasts.

"Kriff, she's definitely not going to last." Tech pointed out as he noted how your body jolted when Hunter firmly sucked your clit into his mouth.

Hunter pulled back then, "I'd rather her cum on something else." He said darkly and stripped from his clean blacks he put on not long ago. "Is that okay with you, cupcake?" He asked as you saw his semi-hard cock being freed from his pants. You bit your lip and nodded at him, never taking your eyes off as he began to stroke his cock. He gently grabbed your jaw then, lifting your head to peer into his chocolate brown eyes. "I need you to say it, cupcake."

"Yes please, Hunter." You whimpered into his hand, spreading your legs wider for him to rest into.

"That's a good girl, mesh'la." Tech said huskily above you and you saw the dark glint in his eyes as well.

Hunter ran the tip of his cock through your folds and moaned quietly. "Want to let you know," he began, eyes fluttering closed, "that my enhanced abilities may not make me last too long."

You smiled up at him, cupping his face and bringing him down for a sloppy kiss. "That's okay, just do however much you're comfortable with." You said and he smiled back at you before completely sinking into you.

A hoarse moan made it past your lips, echoing in the room. Hunter grunted, resting his head into your neck before he began to move. "Oh, kriff-!" He moaned, feeling how you gripped around his cock snuggly.

Tech groaned as you peered up at him, hand reaching out to move a piece of stray hair from your face. Hunter leant up then so he was on his knees and began to thrust into you faster, causing you to moan louder.

"That's it, moan louder for us." Hunter gasped, face already flushed. His hands gripped the tops of your thighs again and pulled you down further on his cock, reaching deep within you; just as Crosshair had done the day before.

Tech leant over you then, fingers nimbly coming in contact with your clit and rubbed small and firm circles on it, causing a throaty groan to come out both yours and Hunter's mouth.

Hunter's hips snapped harder up into you and you heard the squelching sounds of your wetness coating his cock and whimpered quietly. Hunter began babbling incoherent sentences, thrusts becoming sloppy, "Cyare, not gonna-"

You moaned at the name, it somehow rolling off his tongue beautifully, even if you didn't know what it meant. "Please cum Hunter, cum inside me and fill me up!"

Hunter's hips stuttered then, a particularly loud moan coming from his mouth, deep and rich. "Karking- Y/N!" He spilled inside you, stopping his movements and letting his hot seed coat the inside of your walls. You moaned at the feeling of being used in this way.

Hunter shuddered as he slumped against you, heavy breaths leaving his lips. You stroked his hair, fingers massaging his scalp and he continued shuddering above you. "You okay, Hunter?" You whispered in his ear and he turned his head to the side to see you, an exhausted smile creeping up on his face.

"Y- Yeah, though I can't say the same about Tech." He said with a raspy voice and you almost forget that Tech was here, and looked up at him.

"If you don't mind, I would like my turn now." He said, voice probably just as shaky as Hunter's and you saw him palming himself through his pants, an obvious tent showing. Hunter slowly got off you, softened cock slipping out of you which caused you to whine, you hadn't yet cummed.

You nodded and Hunter moved off towards the bathroom, probably wanting to clean himself off. Tech moved so he was where Hunter was and took his pants off, throwing them absently on the floor.

"Baby," You whined, "get yourself some relief." You said and moaned as he ran his cock up and down your pussy so he was lubricated; not that you needed it. "Fuck..." You moaned as he slipped inside you then, your warmth completely enveloping him and he grunted as he pushed himself further inside you.

He leant down then, his face inches above yours and you resting your forehead against his. ""Can I move?" He asked then and you nodded desperately. He started with a softer pace, moaning as he pushed back inside of you.

You felt a hand on your head then and looked up at Hunter who gave you a warm smile before he disappeared again. Tech hit a soft spot inside you, and it snapped you back to reality and moaned loudly.

To quieten you, Tech kissed you, full of passion and hunger and his hips sped up more. You moaned again, into his mouth, before his tongue slipped past your lips and into your own.

Your hands reached up, wrapping around his neck and tugged at the strands of his hair there, causing an audible gasp to leave your lips. "Tech," You whimpered as he angled his hips higher, hitting an extra soft spot inside of you. You shook, feeling the heat of an orgasm bubbling to the surface, "Tech..." You warned then, nails digging into the back of his neck.

"That's right, mesh'la, I want you to cum around me. I want to feel you gush around my cock as I spill inside you." Tech spoke dirtily, and you gasped as he dived for your neck.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck." You chanted, legs tightening around his hips as you almost were tipped over the edge, all you needed was that extra push. "Tech, baby, please..." You were whining for more, anything more.

Tech sat up then, but never faltering his movements. His hand came around your throat then, squeezing it, but not as hard as what Crosshair had done. His other hand came down to rub your clit in furious circles and that's when you came. You shouted his name, the hand only wrapping around you tighter as a response and your whole body shook violently.

You heard Tech groan then, hips stuttering as Hunter's had done as he spilled himself inside of you. He grunted your name, releasing your neck to grab onto the chair to steady himself.

"Well, that was something." You heard the husky voice of Hunter then and finally opened your eyes to meet his chocolate brown ones above you.

"That was good." You huffed, still out of breath and felt Tech pull out. He and Hunter helped you sit up then before Hunter grabbed a cloth and began to wipe you down, eyes lingering on your cum-soaked cunt.

You took a breath, leaning into Hunter's side as you closed your eyes. "You want me to help you with a shower?" Tech asked and you opened your eyes to see the pilot with a warm smile on his face.

You giggled and nodded and he helped you towards the refresher. "I'll let you know if I need help." You told him, leaning up to kiss his cheek and you smiled again. He closed the door behind you and you looked at yourself in the reflection, eyes scanning over the love marks Tech had made there, and you giggled as you turned on the shower.

The hot water cascaded down your back and you moaned, delighted by the hot water relaxing your sore and used muscles. You heard the front door whoosh open then and Wrecker laughed loudly. You shook your head and laughed as you grabbed out your shampoo and began to wash your hair.

"You should have seen the food that was there!" He yelled, probably stuffing his face with whatever was there. "I saved mesh'la some! Where is she?"

"She's in the refresher, now be quiet." Hunter said, as you heard boots walking away from you. "Hey, don't go eating all of it! You said you were leaving some for Y/N."

"Oh, right... I forgot." Wrecker said, and you could already see his face drop.

"There wasn't any rifle gear there," Crosshair sniggered, "and I see you were busy."

"AW, did I miss out on that?" Wrecker asked, sounding upset.

Tech interrupted and cleared his throat. "It was a fair ordeal, we hadn't yet been with Y/N. Wrecker, don't be selfish."

"Real fun, you even spilt the coffee on the chair we just got." Echo noted and you felt a tinge of sadness creep within you and you quickly finished washing your hair and body.

You wrapped a towel around your head and body and stepped out of the refresher, everyone's eyes turning to you. Wrecker gawking at you the most. "I didn't mean to spill the coffee, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's alright. Nothing Tech or myself can't clean up." Hunter said, stepping towards you and cupping your face between his palms. "Plus, it was our fault that it spilt, not yours." You smiled as he squished your cheeks playfully and leaned in to hug him.

"How touching..." Crosshair muttered, pulling out a new toothpick after throwing the other on the floor. "Well, remind me next rotation to not go to the markets if it means I can fuck Y/N."

"She's not a plaything," Echo said then and Crosshair scoffed.

"Yeah, and that's not what you thought when she willingly opened her legs for us?" He retorted and you shrunk back at what he said, hiding behind Hunter's body.

"Hey, don't say that about Y/N! She's gorgeous and stunning, and you should learn to respect her!" Wrecker shouted, shoving his brother.

Crosshair shoved him back, "Respect a whore that opens her legs for anyone? I think not." You wanted to cry, feeling hot tears make their way to the surface. "Plus, she's not even that good at anything, so why keep her around? Throw her out for the next man to fuck her."

Hunter spun then, punching Crosshair right in the face and making him stumble back at the suddenness of the impact. "Quit talking like that about her!" He shouted, never had you heard him raise his voice this much.

You stepped back, your back coming in contact with the door of the refresher. By now, tears had soaked your cheeks and your whimpered, catching Echo's attention.

"Hey, it's okay. Come here." He said softly and took a step forwards as Crosshair threw Hunter off him. You shook your head and quickly opened the door before slamming it shut behind you and locking it.

A shaky breath caught your lips as you slid down the door and onto the floor. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Hunter asked as more tears slipped from your eyes.

"Y/N?" Tech suddenly asked at the door.

"G- Go away." You whispered, sniffing.

"I have clothes for you." You took the clothes from Tech then, quickly opening the door before slamming it back shut again. You got dressed in the plain white shirt and black leggings he handed you and saw your teary reflection in the mirror.

You took a deep breath then, opening the door and saw Hunter still standing over Crosshair. Their eyes turned on you, and you tried your best not to slam the door again.

You limped your way over to the front door. "Where are you going?" Echo asked and you turned to face him.

"Away." You spat, "Don't follow me. And you," You pointed at Crosshair, "Don't you dare talk to me ever again!" And with that, you slammed the door in front of them all.

[byuntrash101]

PARAPHILIA - Part 3

Pairing: sub!Baekhyun x CEO!Reader

Genre: EstablishedRelationship!AU, slice of life, fluff (a tiny bit), smut

Tags: gentle dom/sub dynamics, sub!Baekhyun, apron, footjob, feet in mouth, praising, cum play

Raiting: +18 (you know me 🤪)

Word count: 3k

Summary: when you come back home from a very tiring day of work, your boyfriend Baekhyun knows exactly how to calm your nerves: with a foot massage.

A/N: This one has a different kind of dynamic since it’s gentle femdom. You see, the girl behing this blog is a switch so I hope you can enjoy this content too. Anyways don’t hesitate to comment or slide into my asks💖💖. - Cat 😽

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession  @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo

Tell me if you want to be added/removed

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist 

Paraphilia #3: Podophilia, sexual attraction to feet

W O R S H I P

You massage your temple in small circles as you try your hardest to concentrate on the road, driving your black Mercedes SUV. Today was a really rough day at work.

You were CEO of a startup company that designs programmes protecting video games and preventing hackers to illegally distribute the games. The company is ever growing as the hackers become more and more inventive.

Today you met with Kazuo 'Kaz' Hirai, CEO of the Playstation branch of the Sony Interactive Entertainment group. You had to negotiate a contract to be the company to protect every playstation exclusive game that was to be released in the next five years. Needless to say, a huge deal for you and your company.

"Aishh..." you scoffed as you recalled the cold expression of the japanese middle aged man. That old fart was really stubborn and strong headed. But so were you which made the negotiations rather difficult. After hours and hours of negotiating you finally came to an agreement interesting enough to the both of you, your firm but also Sony.

So yes it was a really rough day. And you were tired... and hungry. Very hungry you thought as you pulled over in the drive away of the modern residence.

Once in the entry you were instantly greeted by the smell of delicious food coming from the kitchen. You didn't even bother taking off your high heeled black pumps and simply directly walked to the dining room.

There you find the table neatly arranged for two. Your boyfriend Baekhyun comes in from the kitchen and instantly jumps when he sees you.

"You scared me! I didn't hear you coming!" he says holding his chest. You puff out a laugh.

He still has the oven mits on, he's wearing a casual pastel green shirt with comfy jeans, topped with a cute blue apron. He's just adorable.

"Sorry I'm so tired I just didn't feel like yelling "i'm home" when I came in"

"I knew it was going to be a tiring day for you so I made you dinner" he came over to you and took off the oven mits then your coat and purse which he placed on the coffee table. He pulled the chair for you.

"That's so gentlemanly of you thank you" you said as you were getting seated. He bowed his head returning your smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

Soon he came back holding the food. Your eyes lit up at the delicious sight and you sat up on your chair. Baekhyun served you and himself then sat just right in front of you.

"Thank you for the food" you said as you leaned in and extended your arm to gently squeeze his hand over the table. He lightly blushes.

"You're welcome" he said before looking down on his chest. "Oops I forgot to take the apron off." he stood up again but you stopped him.

"No keep it on... I think it suits you! It's cute" you smiled at him, he smiled and sat back down.

You proceeded to eat, during the meal Baekhyun kept quiet about your work. He knew it was better to let you eat and enjoy a peaceful evening before actually starting to ask questions. Even though it killed him not to know and he just wanted to bombard you with a thousand questions.

"Aaah... I'm so full" you said rubbing your stomach. Baekhyun cutely smiled at you, his eyes forming crescents that complimented nicely his constellation moles.

"I'm glad you liked it"

"Of course I loved it you're the best cook ever" he was embarrassed at the compliment but flattered anyway.

"Thank you" he then marked a silence and hesitantly asked. "Hmmm... y/n... so how were the negotiations?" finally he asked the question that was burning his lips. You sighed. You would have liked it if he had waited until tomorrow to ask you but on the other hand you understood his curiosity. This contract was a turning point for the company.

"Well... it was... difficult" you said simply. Baekhyun stayed silent only waiting for more details. "Yes... basically I had to cut back on a lot of things I asked... I mean they were the bigger company at the table so I didn't have much negotiation power..." Baekhyun creased his eyebrows, worried. "But I still managed to secure a good deal. So, yes, next week we will officially sign the papers" you said finally. Baekhyun bursted in a loud celebration, which took you by surprise.

"Honey! that's great! you worked so hard for this!"

"Yeah" you said unconvinced... Honestly to you it somehow felt like a small defeat since you had to cut back on so many things but at the same time you had no other choice... "I think I'm just frustrated about how it actually went down, you know?" Baekhyun took your hand in his.

"Honey... the most important thing is that even if the deal isn't the absolute best it's still good for the company and if you do a good job in the course of the next 5 years they will want to work with you again and maybe other big companies will also want to... Next target Nintendo!" He said with a huge smile, gently rubbing your hand with his thumb.

That is something you always loved about Baekhyun. After dating for so long people complain about your significant other not being surprising anymore. When truly it's the best thing about having a relationship. The person staring back at you knows you like you two share the same heart. When your mind is full and you can't seem to put your thoughts into words… you don't have to because they know you. Baekhyun knows you. 

He cheers you on when you're down. Sees the positive when you are tired of restlessly hoping. He's your light. He lights up your path everywhere you go.

He was adorable, staring back at you with dark brown eyes and the cute blue apron. So so cute... that unholy ideas started to form inside your dirty mind.

"You're right" you said looking back at him. Under the table you extended your leg and started to rub your foot on his pants. Baekhyun instantly stiffened, his smile dropped. "If only there was a way that I could relax..." you smirked at him with suggestive eyes.

"M-maybe a f-foot massage?" Baekhyun asked hesitantly, he was such a cutie stuttering like this. It made your heart melt.

"Why not?" you said shrugging, acting casual.

Baekhyun took a step in your direction but you stopped him.

"No!" he stopped in his tracks. Looked him up and down, licking your lips, anticipating what was to come. "Crawl to me" you said, smirking again. Baekhyun's warm smile was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was replaced by that soft submissive expression that you loved so much.

Without a word he got on all fours and slowly approached you, not breaking the eye contact you had. His face was slightly blushed, mixed with embarrassment and anticipation.

Once he reached you, you gently cupped his cheeks.

"Good boy" you praised him. Then you pushed back your chair and rotated on your butt to face him. You crossed your leg and presented him the foot that was hanging in the air. "Now do your thing"

Baekhyun looked up at you then he placed one hand over the heel of your shoe to support your leg the other hand behind your calf. He laid a soft kiss on your ankle and trailed his way down to stop where the shoe went over your toes. He looked up at you for further instructions.

"Lick it" you said. He didn't hesitate to stick his tongue out and lightly flick it against the shiny leather. A satisfied smile spread on your lips. He kissed the shoe again and you felt him lightly pull on the heel to take it off. You quickly lifted his chin with the pointy tip of the shoe.

"No.. Not yet" he whimpered cutely. He's so impatient. "Stand" you command. He does as he's told. "Now strip but keep the apron" he nods

He slips his hands underneath the blue apron and starts to unbutton his shirt. He then takes off one sleeve then the other one. He drops the pastel shirt to the ground. His toned arms move to mesmerize you. You bite on your bottom lip as he continues the show.

He moves on to unbuckle his belt and peels the denim off his skin. Finally he removes his boxers which he throws to the side.

He's left completely naked apart from the apron, which is tightly hugging him. The thin fabric is letting little to the imagination. You can clearly see his broad shoulders and arms who rest at his side and Baekhyun's pretty pink nipples. You let your eyes go down where you can see your boyfriend's bulge pitching a slightly twitchy tent underneath. You lick your lips thinking he's already so excited for you.

"Kiss me" you said lifting your head up slightly. Baekhyun bent down and linked his lips with yours in a heated and passionate kiss. 

You untangled your fingers in his hairs, lightly pulling on it, which made him cutely whimper into your mouth. You took the opportunity to push your tongue inside his mouth and deepen the kiss, pulling harder on his hair. He let out cute muffled moans. Then finally you let go of him. He was panting, face flushed red and his hair was messy.

"Now you may remove my shoes" you uncrossed your legs and laid both your feet flat on the ground. Baekhyun hurriedly kneeled down and removed both your shoes, setting them neatly on the side. Your feet made contact with the cold tiles of the dining room. But you didn't mind at all.

"Now lick them" you commanded. Baekhyun was ready to lift your feet to his mouth but you stopped him. "No get down there and lick them from the ground" you said sternly.

Baekhyun placed both his palms on the floor and bent his arms until his cheek touched the tiles. His ass was up in the air when he started to lick your toes. The tickling sensation sent goosebumps on your body and you sighed in satisfaction, fully enjoying the power you held over him.

You then slowly lifted your foot to give him access to your soles. He never broke contact with your foot and his face followed as you lifted it, bringing him back in his initial kneeling position. When he could finally lick your sole he didn't wait for a second. He licked your foot from the heel up to the toes. Your soles were his favourite part and you knew it. You smirked when you saw him indulge himself in the moment.

"Suck my toes" you commanded again. He nodded vigorously, tightly grabbing your foot and as he opened his mouth to bring your big toe inside it. He looked back at you and a soft moan escaped your lips feeling his wet mouth around your foot. "Such a good boy" you moaned softly, your breathing getting ever so slightly quicker.

"Enough!" You say before abruptly taking back your foot. You push him on his chest which causes him to fall back on his butt and his palms flat on the tiles. In this position the tent he's pitching is very visible. And you can't wait to finally see it.

You bring your toes underneath the apron around his crotch area and with a flick of the ankle you push back the fabric over the belt.

Finally you lay eyes on his twitching and aching cock. Precum is already seeping from the slit and you can't help but to smile from ear to ear when you finally uncover it.

"Look at this... Aren't we excited?" you asked, bringing your toes to his balls. Baekhyun stiffens.

"Y-yes" he whispers, unable to take off his eyes from your feet. You lightly lift your foot to the base of his shaft and he buckles up his hips, impatient.

"No no... you have to be good, okay? Are you gonna be a good boy for me?" you coo.

"Yes!" he says excitedly, his eyes still on your foot, nearly popping out of their sockets.

"Good boy" you say before wrapping his cock with both feet and starting to pump his swollen dick. Immediately his eyes roll back as he bites his bottom lip. You pick up the pace and Baekhyun looks back at you. You normally don't go this hard right away but he's not complaining. He feels so good from the footjob.

Baekhyun's saliva really lubed up your feet and they glide easily on his precum oozing dick. You continue to harshly jerk his cock with your feet.

"Fuck... Honey... This is... Aaah... so gooddd!!" he says moaning shamelessly in between each word. He sounds so needy and whiny and most of all he looks absolutely delighted with his eyebrows deeply furrowed and his mouth hanging open.

You felt him twitch around your toes and withdraw them immediately before he can spill his juice. Baekhyun let out a disappointed whimper as the pleasure fades away. You can't help but to smirk when you see him squirm.

"Get up" you command him.

You stand up from the chair and flip the table cloth over the dirty dishes, making way for you to sit.

You take your time, taking every single piece of clothing off you, striping sensually for your boyfrined who thickly swallows as you're removing the last piece of fabric.

You set your bottom on the dark wood of the dining table and lean back over on your elbow, your knees together bent back on your chest. Baekhyun stands in front of you, his dark red cock seeping precum and twitching.

You then part your knees slowly, uncovering your glistening pink folds absolutely drenched in your juices. You're feeling incredibly aroused. Baekhyun is in awe in front of such a view. No matter how many times he's seen you, every time he still is breathless.

"Come here baby" you say as you gesture to him to come close. "Now fuck me baby" you murmur in a sultry tone.

Baekhyun can't believe his ears. Rare are the occasions when you let him fuck you. Most of the time you are on top and in control. But today he's been such a good boy you exceptionally let him be on top.

He doesn't take one more second to align himself with your lonely and aching center. Slowly he pushes himself inside you. The slip is easy as your juices coat even your inner thighs. You gasp delightfully at the sensation of him gently stretching you open.

"Fuck... Y/n...Aaaah" Baekhyun lets out a high pitched moan that wakes up the butterflies in your stomach. You love to hear his struggling moans.

"Fuck me faster" you command your boyfriend who has his eyes tight shut, trying his hardest not to bust right away.

He takes a bruising grip on your fleshy thighs and gradually he picks up the pace, waves of heat and pleasure wash over your entire body as you shamelessly moan while Baekhyun makes your breasts jump with each thrust.

"Tell me how good this feels baby" you tell him, craving more of his high pitched and needy voice. Baekhyun whimpers before answering.

"Aaah... Your pussy feels so good" he says before letting go of one of your thighs to bring your foot to his face. He buried his nose in your sole. "Fuck... aaaah... Honey" he sounds pleading, so submissive despite the fact that he's the one over you roughly pounding into you.

He gasps when he feels your walls tightening around him. He takes one of your toes in his mouth. He makes you feel so good, the way he doesn't restrain his thrusts has you gasping each time his tip kisses your cervix. Your moans and his mix in a beautiful symphony that resonates in the empty dining room.

"Baekhyun don't stop I'm gonna cum" You moan as you extend your hand to bring a little attention to your clit. With two fingers your circle your swollen and needy bud. The pleasure rises again and beads of sweat roll in between your bouncing tits.

"Fuckk... I'm cumming too" he says in one breathy moan, your toes hanging on his lips.

"Aaaah yes baby" you moan finally letting go of the knot in your stomach. Your pussy tightly clenching around Baekhyun's cock, milking it to the last drop of cum.

Baekhyun then pulls out to spread the last streams of cum on your feet, which you bring in front of his pulsing cock and point out. You feel the hot liquid coat your toes and your ankles as Baekhyun cusses and moans loudly.

He then staggers to one of the chairs and crashes on it. His cock still pulsing in his fist, chest heaving and glistening with sweat.

You look at him straight in the eyes when you bring your feet to your mouth and lick them clean. The bitter and sweet taste of Baekhyun's cum fills your mouth. You close your eyes fully enjoying it, moaning against your toes on your lips. Baekhyun looks at you being this naughty with an evil glint in the eye.

"Baby you taste so good" you whisper. Baekhyun smiles, still panting and exhausted.

"Does that mean I'll get to be on top more often?" he asks.

"Hmmm..." you bring your finger to scratch your chin, fainting to think deeply.

"No" you say with a smile. You're already off in the staircase laughing when Baekhyun grumbles and pouts cutely protesting.

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist  

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 3.4 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

4. CHILD OF VOLLEYBALL

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In the week before the ballgame tournament, practice for the tournament took priority over after school club activities. On Monday after school, it was the first day of team practice for Team F.

“I’m not the manager for the boys’ volleyball team. I’m just here to help out.”

“It’s totally fine! We have twenty-four people and only one manager currently. How many does boys’ volleyball have? Huh, eight? So little. One per twenty-four people and one per eight, don’t you think that’s a weird ratio? We’re going to need three managers, you know? That’s why, please be our manager.”

“Look…you haven’t listened what I said at all, have you. I don’t know how you think that logic is going to convince me.”

When he went to the gym, he immediately came across a scene of a row of four muscular boys were sitting on their heels and making supplications to one girl. The girl they were supplicating to was the second-year Suemori, who came as a helper from the girls’ volleyball team.

For today’s practice, it was arranged that the two teams would each use one half of the court. The teams were Oda’s Team F and Team B, which had the corps from the aforementioned rugby team. The rugby team was the third great power among the boys’ sports clubs in the school after the soccer and baseball teams, but because rugby wasn’t included in the events of the school’s ballgame tournament, they appeared to have discovered their raison d’etre in the ballgame tournament by dispatching members to each event and having them run wild. As if to tout their club, all four of them were wearing those characteristic horizontally-striped shirts, and the pattern made their upper bodies look even squarer and burlier. I’m pretty sure the temperature in the gym went up one or two degrees because of those four… Though it was already the season of high humidity, it really was sweltering in there.

“This isn’t the time for scouting. Scram.”

Oda raised his voice and cut in front of Suemori.

“Suemori is our important charge from girls’ volleyball. If anything happens to her while she’s with us, I’ll get throttled by them. If you wanna poach her, talk it over with the girls’ volleyball captain.”

“Aaah? What’s your problem?”

One person among the four talked back in a boorish voice. His height approached Aoki’s when he stood, and unlike Aoki, he had a width and thickness, so his weight was completely different. He felt a feeling of oppression like he was being crushed just from standing in front of him.

This man was a second-year from the rugby club, Okuma.

“This ain’t the place for a first-year runt to show up. Get outta here.”

The moment he said that, his temple started convulsing, but it would never end if he flared up at every single thing.

“I’m the captain for boys’ volleyball, Oda from 3-F. I’m in charge today.”

“Heh? A third-year? You serious?”

Okuma’s eyes widened, and he confirmed with Suemori over Oda’s head instead of with Oda himself. Standing in a position to protect Suemori, she was taller than him. Oda’s existence was no obstacle for Okuma.

When they were convinced that he was really an upperclassman, Okuma and the other three changed their attitude more or less, and they followed his orders without disturbing the progress. First, the two teams took the time for a joint orientation. There were three to five students from each grade per team. There would be no more than twenty-five people in two teams. Three times the usual number of eyes during regular club practice watched him and listened to him seriously. He was a little nervous and cleared his throat several times.

He didn’t see Haijima there. He wondered if the positions were assigned just for the sake of adjusting the numbers. If that was the case, then excepting Suemori who was a girl, Oda was the only one who had volleyball experience between these two teams.

In the volleyball division of the ballgame tournament, all six teams would be divided into two groups of three teams, and after a round-robin competition within the group, the first-place team in each group would play the deciding round. The group league had a total of six games, and adding the deciding round, that would make a total of seven games. The regular rule was to get twenty-five points first, but they eased that so that it was now a three-set match where the team that got fifteen points first won. Although, if they were to pull off seven games without a hitch, it was going to be a dizzying day for them on the management side.

“I’m sure we’ve all did it before in gym, so you’re alright with the basics, right? The rotations might feel complicated, but well, don’t take fouls down to the smallest detail, just three people in the front row and three in the back, and make sure to serve in the right order. Once you got it, you’ll be divided into teams to practice. I’m in Team F, and Suemori’s in B, so take a look. If there’s anything, call us immediately.”

“Hey, Captain!” Okuma raised his hand when he was about to tell them to split up.

“I’m not your captain, but…what?”

“It’s boring to practice separately. B and F should play a game. I think that’ll help us learn the flow of the game better.”

“A sudden game?”

Is he the type who loves playing games but hates practice? Oda didn’t like people who neglected basic practice. He frowned and said, “You can play games on the day of the tournament. Why do I have to teach your team our plays?”

“You don’t mind showing just a little, do you? Don’t tell me you’re gonna lose to a bunch of rookies like us? You can jump about two meters, right Captain? If you can’t do that much, then we’d be able to knock you down without jumping.”

I thought he’d become obedient, but he was thinking about things like that…I’m not going to be taken in by such a cheap provocation. I should just ignore it and move to practice as planned. He was thinking that, but he couldn’t help but feel a boiling feeling at the pit of his stomach. No, Aoki’s not here today, so I have to be the one to keep calm.

“Senpai, let’s do it. Why don’t we just do one set?”

Right when he was working hard to restrain himself, he was unexpectedly spurred on. He turned around in surprise and Suemori was standing firm with an expression that was even more indignant than Oda’s.

“Suemori-san, you sure are brave. I want you to be our manager more and more.”

Suemori gave a sharp glare at a grinning Okuma before whispering into Oda’s ear. “Oda-senpai, aren’t you angry? I can’t stand it. Making fun of volleyball…Let’s break his nose.”

“No, even if you say that…”

“If you don’t have confidence in yourself, then I’ll join.”

Suemori started taking off her jersey on the spot, so he immediately stopped her with “Wait. It’s better for me to play than you.”

His voice was a grade lower, becoming insecure. Suemori’s face immediately reddened and she looked down, saying “No…sorry.” I might have said it too harshly. But, more than being made fun of by an amateur like Okuma, my pride was hurt by the fact that I was even looked down on by someone from girls’ volleyball.

He did have confidence. He wasn’t about to be beaten by an amateur who was just huge. He honestly even agreed with the idea of knocking him down a peg. However, it would be a problem if a girl was put in and got injured. Although Okuma was an amateur at volleyball, he was an athlete who did ball sports, and there was an insurmountable wall between men and women in the power of the ball.

But, it was true that there wasn’t even anyone who could set by themselves. If there was just one more person with experience in Team F…

…We do.

The figure entered the corner of his field of vision as though it was timed. They were standing at the entrance to the gym with a suspicious face, perhaps feeling that there was something off—Haijima.

“Suemori…can you go get Kanno?”

“Huh?”

A dispirited Suemori raised her head and blinked.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The reason he called Kanno was trivial, he just wanted him to be the referee. Suemori was in charge of displaying the points. It would only be one set where the first to get fifteen points won. If he considered this a sideshow, then this would be a good amount of time to devote to it.

He looked at Haijima, who was doing some light stretching in front of the net. Anyways, it was a piece of good luck that he was able to pull him up to the court before he could say anything…he might have to thank Okuma for that.

There were many people present in their gym jerseys, but Haijima’s equipment gave him a different vibe from the amateurs. He wore long underpants that reached his ankles beneath black shorts, short socks, and volleyball shoes that looked worn in. That Mizuno was the same model as Kuroba’s. And the taping that was tightly wrapped around the fingers of both his hands gave off an aura of something different.

When he thought that he had a different impression of his face than when he saw him in the school building, it was due to the presence of his glasses.

I see, so he switches to contacts when he’s playing.

When he was in his school uniform and wearing his glasses, he had the impression of a moody, literary-type of boy, but now suddenly he seemed like an athlete. There were also sports glasses, but sports glasses for volleyball inevitably took the shape of goggles due to the nature of the sport, and perhaps because it narrowed the field of vision and honestly didn’t look good, but Oda had never seen a high schooler use them.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much good will towards Haijima after the April incident. It wasn’t that he hated him, but he was completely in the category of people he didn’t like dealing with. It was creepy that he couldn’t read what he was thinking about at all, even now. A simply neutral expression with no enthusiasm or nervousness. I wonder what kind of play would actually be created by standing on the same court as this guy. Oda was the one who was made considerably more nervous.

However, on the other hand, he also felt excitement. ——He was looking forward to it.

“Then, the person doing the serve receive should try to return it to Haijima as much as possible. That’s our setter, Haijima.”

The other four people on the court are have some experience from gym class. He decided to try using them all first while alternating them.

“Haijima, are you fine with being the setter? Are you up for it? You haven’t done it for a while.”

Haijima, who was relaxing his shoulders, gave him a sideways glance and looked offended.

“What’s your highest jump reach height?”

He was suddenly asked a straight-to-the-point question. Without asking about the circumstances that led to this match, without saying a word of greeting like “Sorry I’m late” or “I’ll be in your care,” that was the first thing out of his mouth after he came here.

“For spikes, these days it’s 315.”

“You can jump for someone of your height.”

Haijima said and narrowed his eyes. It was a completely disparaging tone, but wait, was I praised just now? I feel like asking someone to interpret for me.

The height he could reach after doing a run-up and jumping was the highest point for a spike jump. In Oda’s case, his finger height (the height he could reach with his hand while standing) was 215 centimeters, so his spike jump was up to one meter. The two meters Okuma instigated with was of course an impossible figure—the height for a male high school volleyball player would be from around 70 to 90 centimeters. He thought that one meter was a figure to be considerably proud of.

From the start, Team B had three rugby team members in the three front row positions. He wasn’t sure if they were thinking up their own strategy where they were going to knock down the first of their attacks with a block and kill their momentum.

Kanno, who found himself in the role of chief referee, blew the whistle, and the game started with Team B’s serve. Since the server was an amateur, it was a simple underhand serve. However, because their receivers were also amateurs, it was difficult for them to cleanly return it to the setter, and the ball was greatly repelled.

Oda was about to jump out to cover for them, but…

…What!?

Haijima was already underneath the ball. So fast!? He didn’t just move fast. His reading of the ball’s course was fast as well. While in an overhand stance, his eyes swiftly scanned the entire court and he signalled Oda with his eyes for a moment. Oda, who had unintentionally stopped in his tracks, quickly rushed to the front of the net. A set was released from Haijima’s fingers with much faster timing that he expected. He was sure he didn’t make such a fast set when he saw him at the prefecturals. It was a confident set from a distance where normally a safe four set would be the only way to go.

So fast—no, rather than fast, what’s with that trajectory!?

He managed to reach up in the midair and hit it with his hand. He didn’t exactly hit the ball squarely, but the three blockers that marked Oda didn’t keep up with him at all.

The ball fell to Team B’s court over the head of the blocker who only jumped halfway. Oda himself felt like he was bewitched, and he landed with the pit of his stomach feeling somewhat weightless.

The view was wonderful. He could see the opposing court, which was usually always blocked by a wall, well. It wasn’t every day he got the chance to spike over the head of a tall blocker, so he had completely forgotten—was going over a block this exhilarating? He felt ticklish on the inside. He felt good…

With a backwards glance at the astonished opposing team, Oda ran up to Haijima.

“Oi, what’s with that set?”

Even so, it was a complaint that came out of his mouth first. He had just barely kept up, but it wouldn’t be strange if he had struck and missed.

“I can’t hit anything if you just set it without warning.”

“That one just now was lower than 315. As expected, I’m rusty from not playing for a while. My perception is dull.”

Haijima said, tilting his head to the side as though he wasn’t satisfied. He was going to make me hit it at three-one-five because I said that was the highest point I could jump? Is he a demon?

“It’s the same with the height, but it’s more a problem of timing. There’s no way I can hit the ball at that tempo if I don’t have anything to match.”

The basic set was called an open set, and the attacker must time the ball as it rose high and fell in a parabolic path and hit it. A spike that is hit at the slowest timing was called a third tempo.

Even so, Haijima’s set was a set that made the attacker hit the ball at the peak of the parabola. As a result, the trajectory towards the hitting point was short, in other words, “fast.” From the point of view of an attacker, it looked like it was flying “directly” at them. The attacker was pulling off the transcendental thing of smashing in the top of the set at the moment they swung at the highest point, but there were many demands on the attacker’s part as well. What kind of nerve did this guy have to set something like that to someone he’s matching with for the first time?

Haijima looked away from Oda, who was snapping at him, and looked as though he had lost interest in something.

“Kuroba can hit it.”

I see, I couldn’t see that high-speed setting at the middle school prefecturals because Kuroba wasn’t there?—His competitiveness was slowly rearing its head. Do you expect me to keep quiet when I’m told that me, a third-year, can’t hit what a first-year can? I know he can evade high blocks at that speed. If he could make that hitting position and speed into a thing…

“…It’s fine. Don’t change what you’re doing. I’ll match you with all I got next time.”

Haijima blinked, and then let out a short breath and squinted his eyes. …He laughed? Maybe?

“Senpai, it’s your team’s serve. You’ll be taking a delay penalty.”

Kanno called out to him in a mild voice. The rotation turned once, and then it was Haijima’s serve.

“You don’t need to match me. I’ll be the one matching you. You seem like you still have a lot more in you, so could you please give a little more? You can go up to about 320, right?”

Calmly leaving that extremely brazen and shameless statement, Haijima turned on his heel and walked to the service zone.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

His initial goal of breaking Okuma’s competitive spirit was blown out of his mind. He wanted to get Haijima to acknowledge him. That was all he could think about starting from midway through the match. He was so absorbed in it that he even forgot that this was practice for the ballgame tournament and was very ashamed to find out later that Kanno and Suemori were supporting the first-timers from off the court. It was a bad habit of his to lose sight of his surroundings when he got passionate. He had his hands full with what was before his eyes.

“Haijima, next time you get a chance, send it to the center.”

In the final stage of the set, the back row demanded a back row attack from Haijima. He was thinking of that high-speed center back Kuroba tried to show on his first day joining the club. If Kuroba could do it, then he wanted to do it himself as well.

“Oi, ref! Ain’t that what they call a delay? They’re just whispering to each other over there. That’s a foul, a foul!”

Okuma raised his voice from the other side of the net. He seemed to be pretty irritated with getting fouls many times when blocking. It was Haijima who incorporated the ingenious technique of playing right at the edge of the net to tempt his opponent into reaching over the net or touching it. He truly was a frightening first-year.

The B-team’s court got the serve, and Okuma jumped to spike it with a beast-like roar. However, Haijima moved in front of it with nimble steps and blocked it. Oi oi…Oda grumbled in his mind. Is he fully ready to end the game with block points? I just said that I wanted to do a back-row attack. Read the room.

Okuma was taller, but Haijima stopped the course with the precise way he moved his arms. It was a form he wanted to use as a model for first-years who were bad at blocking.

Oh…I’m looking at someone who has received the favor of volleyball up close right now… He was given every sense from the god of volleyball…

Thump. A different sound from the sound of a ball being hit was heard. From Oda’s position, it was a blind spot, so he couldn’t immediately grasp what had happened.

Rather than landing on the floor, Haijima dropped. Kanno immediately blew the foul whistle.

“Haijima!”

He rushed over to him in fright. Haijima was pressing his hand near his right eye, squatting and gritting his teeth. Was it his eye? His forehead? Kanno and Suemori also ran over, and the court was in disorder for a short while.

“Hey, what the hell were you doing? This isn’t rugby!”

He barked across the net, blood rushing to his head. Okuma made excuses with a slightly frightened look on his face.

“It, it wasn’t on purpose, captain. I only hit him by accident.”

“Don’t lie to me. If anything happens to our members, I’ll make you…”

“Senpai. I think he’s probably telling the truth. It wasn’t intentional. Please calm down. I was watching.”

He was clenching his fists and half-rising to his feet, but Kanno held down his shoulders. Admonished calmly by his kouhai, he reluctantly got back down while clenching his teeth.

“I’m fine…My contact just slipped.”

Haijima slowly got up. His voice was somewhat hoarse, but his articulation was clear. Oda was relieved that it didn’t seem serious.

“I’m removing myself from the game. Ow…”

After Haijima staggered out of the gym while pressing his hand against his right eye, the atmosphere immediately became like the closing of a performance. The decision was that Team B committed a foul, and Team F won 15-10, but they didn’t really care about winning or losing anymore.

The turmoil from the trouble caused everyone to lose concentration, so they decided to call off the rest of practice today. Oda’s concentration was more scattered than anyone else’s. He was in a position where he had to have more composure, but the role of captain was something that he was unequal to from the start. I don’t have the qualities to lead a team, I’m just selfish, I just…wanted to be a hitter. I just like getting to a place as high as possible above people and making them surrender.

The pleasure of being in a duo with Haijima still lingered. It was a feeling like a slight numbness that spread from the core of his body to his right fingertips.

I want him—A small but concentrated amount of fuel was thrown down onto his feelings of tiredness after losing in the prefectural tournament.

Practice was cut early and they dispersed, with Okuma and the rest of the rugby corps also leaving. When he was looking at the court thinking that it suddenly cooled down when those guys were gone, he saw Haijima standing before the net, staring fixedly up at it for some reason.

“Are you feeling okay? If you still feel like something’s off, go get it checked out. If you don’t know the hospitals around here, I’ll go with you.”

“I’m pretty familiar with it.”

“You don’t see rough play like that in volleyball a lot, do you?”

“No, I mean outside.”

“…?” Oh, he means outside the court? Hey, you need complete your sentences over here to have the conversation connect well.

In his case, no matter how you think about, the way he speaks is causing trouble. It’s no wonder Aoki went off at me about inviting him—he got him to lay a hand, I mean, foot on him.

“This is 2.43, eh.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah it is, how did you notice? I told them to put it up at 2.4 since we’re not doing club practice today… I guess we’d been playing at 2.43 all day.”

At the ballgame tournament, the boys would be playing with the net at 2.40 meters. The same height as the official matches within the prefecture. When it came to tournaments that were above prefecture-level like regional and national tournaments, they were treated the same as general boy’s volleyball at 2.43 meters.

“Do you usually practice at 2.43?”

“Yeah, it’ll be at this height for Spring Inter-High, anyways.”

Haijima gave him a sideways glance, looking slightly shocked.

Following Inter-High in the summer and Nationals in the fall, the tournament that filled in the last piece of the three major national volleyball competitions was “Spring Inter-High Volleyball”. This tournament, which was held in a particularly spectacular manner among the three major competitions, was a grand stage that could be compared to Koshien for high schoolers who played volleyball (as for Oda, he didn’t want to use this metaphor. Even if you didn’t use baseball as a reference, Spring Inter-High was still Spring Inter-High). It used to be held in March but has now been moved to January, so third-years could participate as well, making it the last tournament that all three school years to face together.

Even at Spring Inter-High, the net was 2.40 meters at the prefectural qualifiers, but 2.43 meters at the main national competition in Tokyo.

“Is it funny? A tiny team like us talking about Spring Inter-High. That might be so, but I don’t think I said anything embarrassing.”

Even if people would think he was conceited, Oda was serious. If Haijima joined their current members, it wouldn’t be a pipe dream in the least. It was a realistic goal.

Haijima’s eyes returned to the net again.

“…I think that kind of thing is okay.”

He muttered. He stretched one hand and touched the top tape of the net. 2.43 meters was, if one were to give an easy-to-understand example, about the height of the ceiling in a house. For the 163 centimeters Oda, it wasn’t a place he could reach just by stretching himself. He envied his ease with which he could put his fingers on it and, it might sound strange, to fix his eyes upon it.

“Is this…the height for Spring Inter-High?”

Oh, he smiled… His face was purely radiant, a complete change from the previous arrogance and impudence, and he was shocked to see that he could make an expression like that. It was by no means a frank and open smile. Like a strong light covered by a thin curtain and gently diffusing through it…it overlapped with Kuroba’s face when he looked up at the same thing with sparkling eyes on the first day of practice in April, even though the vectors were completely different.

His feeling that Haijima would be hard to deal with had, before he knew it, faded through the match.

“Hey, you know, I had a great time playing with you today. You had a little fun too, didn’t you?”

“Oda-san has good reflexes.”

Unused to hearing himself be called “Oda-san,” he felt itchy. What’s more, he was using standard Japanese, so it was like he was being addressed from the TV. But, it’s nice, being called that by him.

“What you don’t have in height, you make up for with being athletic. You have power too. Stretching your body in midair, I like that.”

Even though he lambasted him two months ago, he easily reversed that and acknowledged him. Is he arrogant or honest…what a weird guy.

Just as I thought, rather than trying to do something with words, it might be better to invite him to the court first. What the hell, I feel kinda happy when I’m acknowledged by him… Pride filled his chest. He was able to believe that he hadn’t been continuing to do something meaningless.

“Will you join us, Haijima? It’ll be boring if you wanna do it by yourself. You chose volleyball for the ballgame tournament too, right?” There was no doubt that he continued to practice even though he wasn’t a part of the club. There was no way a guy who had a gap period since last summer could move like that.

He expected him to nod, but Haijima dropped his gaze to the court at his feet with a sullen look on his face. His childish action of poking at the ground with the toe of his shoe made Oda feel impatient and irritated. There was also envy. Why the hell is a guy who, unlike me, can just go on with volleyball without thinking about anything, hesitating here?

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind, Oda-san. I’m not very well liked. As long as I’m a setter…”

——“Why are you clinging to that position?”

It suddenly occurred to Oda that those words that were spat at him before might not have been contempt towards him.

Is it possible that it’s something Haijima himself has been thinking about…? Even the personification of volleyball sense who seems like he was chosen by the god of volleyball thinks that way?

“Hmm? Why are you guys hiding?”

Suemori’s voice echoed in the quiet gym.

Suemori and Kanno, who had spread out a piece of construction paper in a corner of the gym and working hard on creating a records chart, looked up and turned their heads to the doorway. The two heads that were peeking in from the shadow of the iron door shook with a start.

“Did you guys come to help clean up? If that’s the case, hurry up.”

Suemori briskly stood up, and Kanno followed quietly. Though the two timidly showed themselves, they stopped at the door like they had trouble getting in. It was Kuroba and Nagato. The air Haijima wore around him instantly stiffened. Were they all from the same middle school volleyball team?

“Senpai, is it true that Haijima is joining the club?”

It was Nagato who asked that. His face was unwelcoming without even having to say it aloud. He pulled on Kuroba’s elbow as if to tell him to say something as well, but he looked away with an ambiguous look on his face.

“I’d like to have him join. I’m in the middle of persuading him, though. If there’s something bothering you, speak up.”

Oda didn’t really hide his ill humor, and he raised his voice to highlight his captain’s dignity. One of Oda’s biggest aggravations was the behaviour of trying to get rid of people in a roundabout way.

“I’m not joining, so don’t worry.”

However, Haijima himself interjected from the side. His tone, which had begun to soften, had returned to being curt again. “I don’t think I’m obligated to join in the cleanup,” he rudely excused himself and turned towards the metal door without bowing. It was towards the other metal door, clearly avoiding Kuroba and Nagato. Oda wanted to tear off his head, as just when he thought he closed the distance a little, he was back to square one.

“I understand Nagato’s point of view. What about you, Kuroba?”

“Huh?”

Kuroba jumped and took on a posture of caution.

“I…I…”

He awkwardly peeking sideways at Haijima, and then cast his eyes down, looking a little bit like he was about to cry. Even though he was so big, he sometimes made expressions like those of an elementary school student, much less a middle school student. Haijima, who had stopped for a moment, started walking again. It was at a quicker pace than before.

After that gangly body disappeared behind the metal doors, Nagato opened his mouth as though he couldn’t bear to wait for that.

“Oda-senpai doesn’t know anything. If Haijima joins, then Yuni really won’t participate in any official games. In a way, we lost that other time because of Haijima…”

“Ryo, stop it. I told you that has nothing to do with it.”

With his face bright red, Kuroba stopped Nagato. However, his voice was weak and it didn’t sound like he was seriously denying it.

Making his voice stern, Oda asked them a question.

“What do you mean?”

Previous || Index || Next

[notfeelingthyaster]

Imagine (Son of Hades! Percy; Godswapped! Big Three's kids) Mark of Athena AU Pt. 1 (3/7) or (8/12)

Hello!! MoA is freaking extensive, so you're getting it in two parts. What are y'all thinking about this AU? Do you like it? Do you have suggestions? Anyway before reading this, check on the masterpost - all parts are essencial for the understanding of this - PJO or HoO - and check on the warnings before proceeding :))

Before everything, everyone's ages. Malcolm is 20, Reyna and Octavian are 19; Percy and Annabeth are 18; Frank and Jason are 17; Piper, Leo and Nico are newly 16; Will and Hazel are 15 - everyone is older, because I can.

Perseus is on a very uncomfortable toga praetexta, and he is late to the committee he has been organizing for at least two weeks now.

Planning for the greek commission - that he really hopes has planned a decent diplomatic mission, come on, Annie - is a very difficult job.

Mainly because Octavian is being a pain - and his direct superior, the Pontifex Maximus, is his grand-uncle, so nepotism is, of course, making Perseus life very hard.

They don't have any real say about the subject - the Vestal Virgins outrank them, and they're all for it because their Lady said so - but they still can protest every single one of the Alliance Committee decisions. Every single one.

They don't know how the greeks are getting here - it seems to be by ship, so they are keeping people at the closest bay, but no one is sure, so they are preparing for everything.

Hera gave him a date - July 8th, a Sunday - and they're working with that. Saturday is a day of rest, to the Roman people, so they organize everything on Friday - food, beverage, accommodations. Will they need garments? Perseus is not letting them walk around in those orange monstrosities.

Well. Hazel and Frank organize those - mainly helped by Questors and Magistrates - while Reyna and Perseus lock themselves up and review all the paperwork.

Because if they're not coming with their own mountain of paperwork, Perseus is kicking their asses, from Jason Grace - the previous Praetor - to Annabeth - she is supposed to be smart.

He also works on the mess that is the patrol rotation, the defense plans for the city, in the reconstruction efforts and in rising the wall at least 10 feet - getting it thirty feet tall, an impenetrable fortress for the upcoming war against the Giants.

Perseus has also made time for Iris Messaging his mother, - who is always overjoyed to hear from him - Persephone, - who he was only able to talk to once - Rachel, - who was not surprised to hear from him, and keep suggesting that he goes to the college closest to Parsons instead of staying in Nova Roma - and Calypso - who no Iris Messaging has been able to connect, nor can he find her location, so he guesses she is also in Olympus.

So back to the present - Perseus is late. It's 9h22 - he doesn't think that the greeks are getting here in the afternoon. He passes by Reyna's villa - with a cup of coffee and half their paperwork - and she is also late - a first when it comes to Praetor Arellano. Because they aren't Perseus and Reyna from now - they're Praetor Jackson of Styx and Praetor Arellano.

So they go to the courtyard - where the whole army is waiting, swords and shields gleaming with Frank in the head, plus the Consul, his two assistants, the Pontifex Maximus, Augur Primus Octavian, the six Questors and Perseus, and Reyna's assistants.

Perseus was never so grateful for someone as he was for Commander Sabina Artorius - the legacy of Pomona had been injured in the battle against Polybotes and lost her right leg and an eye - didn't make her any less valuable for him - but in the eyes of the prejudiced Roman people, she was a burden - so Reyna appointed her for the job.

She did everything Perseus wasn't able to - including proof-reading everything he wrote, teaching him the intricacies of Roman Politics, and giving him paperwork to sign.

Everyone who called her a useless servant was lying - Sabina was an amazingly competent P.A. and diplomat, and Perseus was very grateful for her, and her salary reflected that. Even if the Romans found weird a Praetor was paying for work - weird slaver fascist culture.

Reyna also has an assistant - a boy called Aeneas Nerius - a son of Virtus - who was born blind, so was relegated to poor-paying (or not paid at all, because housing and food aren't payment) jobs. Because Nova Roma is not only queerphobic and racist, no. It's also ableist.

The Pontifex - his name is Septimus Gavius, and he's a direct son of Phebus Apollo - looks at them angrily when they arrive late - but the Consul doesn't even notice the time - the man is too afraid of their conjoined power over the masses.

The Consul plays for the people as if Perseus would be a good successor - calls him Augustus and Imperator - even when everyone knows Reyna is the obvious choice - the man is as misogynist as all the older Senators are.

While Reyna tries her best to make her purple stola less constricting and Aeneas corrects Perseus toga with the practiced movements of someone who has been trained to do it - and that's when Perseus remembers that Aeneas was a servant to Octavian's family.

He pointedly avoids looking at the boy's hands - the demigod is no older than Percy, and his hands are burned and scarred. Perseus doesn't pity him - he rages internally against Octavian and his bigoted, slaver, prejudiced family.

They are talking - he is still seething from his realization - when the Greeks appear. And Perseus wants so much to kick their butts.

He has no words. He wants to scream. Reyna massages her temples with the face of a resigned person, and Sabina - the bloodthirsty woman that she is - snorts in amusement.

"Praetor Jackson. I fought beside you! I didn't expect your people to be... well... barbarians!" Whispers Reyna in his ear, in utter exasperation.

"I wasn't expecting this either! They have Grace, who is a roman! Why are they doing this?" He whispers back, as lost as she appears.

It doesn't matter - he tells Frank - Legatus Legionis Zhang - to make the troops stand down. This is not a fight - not yet, Lady Lupa whispers in his mind.

Hazel - Centurion Levesque - looks at him worried. She has been frenzied since her brother's disappearance the day after her birthday, but this is just the cherry on top. Are they fools?

The ship crosses their wall - and hovers in the air as, one by one, six people climb down. Perseus recognize almost all of them - there's Annabeth, Malcolm, Will, Jason Grace, and two other demigods, who he doesn't know.

At least Grace is wearing a toga. A makeshift, purple toga picta - as if he was a Triumvir or an Imperator - but a toga nonetheless, even if pretentious.

The Consul is the first to talk - the Greeks approach slowly, wary of the army behind them. The man welcomes them to Nova Roma - looking at Grace's toga with something akin to disdain - and then promptly passes the torch to the Praetors - the organization of this whole thing has been in their hands from the start.

"I am Praetor Urbanus Arellano" Reyna starts, in an official tone that no one questions "And this is Praetor Peregrinus Jackson of Styx. These are Pontifex Maximus Septimus and Augur Primus Octavian, Legatus Legionis Zhang, and the Twelfth Legion of Nova Roma. Please, follow me - let's continue our talking in a more private setting, I'm sure you're must be exhausted."

It's just an excuse to avoid the mocking looks the bigots are throwing them - Perseus can hear their voices in his head, calling him an ape, a savage bringing barbarians into their home.

The greeks - with their orange T-shirts and faded jeans and mocking purple toga - look as out of place in Nova Roma as Perseus feared they would. Reyna and he take them to the Praetor Villa - is as much as they can restrain themselves.

Annabeth - who knows him longer than anyone here - doesn't jump him - she just looks a little overwhelmed - Nova Roma is probably a bit much for her Athenian brain, which is now possibly being overridden with possibilities. It's Jason who makes the first move - and what a weird move at that.

"Reyna" He greets, and they hug briefly - and as manly as possible, for some weird roman reason about feminization - before the blonde turns to him "Perseus Jackson"

"Jason Grace" He answers back, and they exchange a handshake, but there's something weird in the inflection of his voice that Perseus doesn't necessarily care for "Annabeth"

Her greeting - when she gets off the subspace she dropped to - is much nicer - and warmer - he even gets a hug out of it.

They introduce him to Leo Valdez - who Perseus looks at once, remembers Charles Beckendorf, and swears to never let any harm come upon his baby brother - and Piper McLean.

"I know you!" They say at the same time - because that's where English gets you.

They explain that they went to Yancy together - two years, doing the same English tutoring. They give each other a high five for surviving the highs and lows of high school as monster bait. Malcolm and Will both hug Percy and greet Reyna with the same respect they give Annabeth - Praetor Arellano is terrifying.

The conversation eventually goes to how - how did they find Nova Roma, why they aren't surprised to see him here - and the answers are kind of obvious.

"I dreamed of you," Says Grace, still with a strange tilt to his voice. Perseus guesses he probably isn't okay with losing his place as Praetor - but he was kind of lost for eight/seven months. It's the gods' fault, really.

"Me too. Kind of - Lady Juno... I mean, Hera, she sent me dreams for about a month or so? It was all very weird - like basically the training I was doing at the day, you were doing at night. I think she was trying to tell me to follow in your footsteps. Helped me a lot - thank you, man."

Jason - and all of the greek entourage - seems a bit downtrodden - like he just gave a big miss. But Perseus has more important things to care about.

"Who had the brilliant idea to come for an alliance in a military flying ship?!"

Jason Grace wants to punch Hera, or Juno, or whatever is her name in the face. He wants to punch himself either - the gods never did anything good for him, why would they now?

He talked - like a creep - about the dreams. And turns out? He is the only one having deep, emotional dreams about Perseus' past for months. He got a crush on someone he knows, like the palm of his hand - but that doesn't know him back, because really, why make this easy? Why give him those dreams at all - if they were doing this one-sided?

So he stays quiet, as Leo apologizes for the worst idea ever - coming with a warship to a military city - and, while Perseus and Piper trade stories, Reyna beacons him for a quick walk - to show him the development of plans they did together - their own way of catching up.

"You're infatuated with him," Jason says but is not an accusation, is just the truth, in the worst time possible.

"Can you blame me? You were gone." She retorts "Wait... It's not me you're jealous of. But how do you? You never met before."

He explains the dreams - the seven months of dreams, the only link to his past, the way Camp Half-Blood worships Percy - the way that they don't have rules about who you lay with. Jason feels Nova Roma around him - the decadence of water everywhere that CHB simply lacked.

"Well, we should open a club. Me, you, that blonde girl, Di Angelo, half of Nova Roma..." And they laugh, for it seems impossible to not fall for Percy's charm, just as impossible as making him notice any of them. "Now can you explain to me why are you wearing purple of all things?"

He is apologetic - it was the only toga they could find in short notice without leaving Camp. Then, she shows him the plans - Reyna can do multiple things at once, and her best friend's love life is merely a blip in her radar.

Reyna loves differently - she has known that, all her life. It doesn't make a difference where it comes to Perseus - she loves him, even if she can't imagine ever laying with him. Maybe that's why she hasn't made any moves under the course of three months. She should let him go - he has so many options, anyway.

When they go back, is to see Perseus and Annabeth in a heated debate about she wearing a chiton or a stola - anyway, no greek can go to Senatus in jeans and a T-shirt.

Eventually, they manage to get them all in togas - the girls refuse the stolas, but they are convinced to put on the chitons for diplomacy.

They didn't come with mountains of paperwork. But between Malcolm, Will, and Annabeth, by lunch they have outlined most of their possible contributions and what do they need - and what they're unable to give up.

Perseus and Jason - and possibly Nico di Angelo, who's missing - are the only ones who know the full information - how many battle-ready people both sides have, how many disabled people, how many children, healers, resources.

Nova Roma is winning - in everything. Except for power - because Camp Half-Blood only has, maybe, five legacies out of more than 150 campers, while Nova Roma is mainly composed of legacies, second-generation demigods, or minor gods' demigods.

The Greeks are composed of 63% Olympian's children, 36% minor gods' children, and 2% legacies - all children of two demigods, so second-generation demigods. They don't have Nova Roma's training - but they have powers the Romans could only dream of.

The Romans are composed of 12% Olympian's children, 39,5% minor gods' children, and 48,5% legacies - most who are at least a few generations diluted. They don't have Camp's power - but they have techniques and numbers the Greeks couldn't even hope to have - if you counted the able non-fighters - the ones who would fight either way for the sake of Rome - it was a number bordering on 700 hundred strong.

It is a gamble that could only bring destruction - for both sides. So Perseus and Jason exchange looks - and decide not to divulge all information. Egos are so fragile - especially between the older generations - so it's best they don't have material to plan in accord.

The Greeks and Roman heed together to the Forum Romanum. Is still weird to see the Romans - especially for Leo.

You see, Leo has been surrounded by a cult of Perseus Jackson over the last few months. Half the people he knows are infatuated with the guy - including the meticulous Annabeth Chase, his best friend, and even scary as hell, Nico "I'm bringing the thunder" di Angelo.

He is expecting a Batman-esque character. He is expecting the heroes from legends - the ones destined to fall. Leo is half-waiting from an automaton - or perhaps Lucifer himself. He isn't sure.

But the guy is... easy-going. He bears a striking similarity to Charles Beckendorf - with surprisingly green eyes. Perseus is wearing sheets - why, Leo can't phantom - and making jokes with Malcolm Cage like the guy wasn't perpetually boomed by something.

It isn't the only thing that surprises him: All his ships (the romantic ones, not the literal one) crashed and burned worse than Helen of Troy and Paris. Perseus is seemingly oblivious to romance - he is all about the job, making friends, rebelling against the traditions and their superpowerful angsty parents.

Well, Leo can get behind this. He can't stop looking at Nova Roma - a whole city, directly taken off a good Gladiator reboot. Leo is not an architecture crazy like Annabeth - but oh, the aqueducts!

Leo wants to take a peak at the place the chimneys are poking of - maybe a two or three hour walk from where he is - but Piper keeps a hand in his wrist, leashing him like a unruly puppy.

Annabeth is in a similar state of amazement - she came here for her best friend and crush - and is surprised.

Not by Perseus becoming some kind of military political person - he always had the potential - and the way he grew, somewhat, harder and prettier at the same time. Annabeth is only eighteen and still on sophomore year - blame the hormones.

But she is amazed by Nova Roma. They have such an intricate society, with traditions the greeks have long forgotten - who still uses clothes like that - and a military formation worthy of Julius Caesar.

Her best friend turned out to kind of be the Julius Caesar to Reyna's - Praetor Arellano - Augustus. Perseus - Praetor Jackson of Styx - is militar and rigid, a political conqueror - while Reyna is infinitely more dangerous - she is a king, a leader to be worshipped as a goddess for centuries to come.

Annabeth came in this mission for three reasons: Her best friend, the war, and the mission her mother gave her. But now, she looks at the politics, at the city - and wants to stay.

They enter the Senatus - Perseus and Reyna upfront, followed by Jason and the greeks - and take their places. Jason - for the anger of most romans - stay with the greeks.

The session starts as normal - titles, names, rankings, people bringing their issues, strifes, budgets, ideas of infrastructure that were authorized by the Censors, marriage licenses and research projects.

Jason thinks they are scarily good together. Reyna works most of the civil front - she is a master at law - but it's Perseus who separates most strifes and solves the money problems - he is the son of a fair judge himself.

He can see the looks - he is Propraetor now. Why doesn't he sit in his side of the Senatus, between his pairs? Does he think himself above them now - even between barbarians?

But Jason can't let his friends to the mercy of the romans - not alone. After all people come - some redirected to the Consul, some with their issues solved for better or for worse - it's their time, to state the case.

The Alliance of Ephesus - for a city that was both greek and roman in nature - is still in it's initial states. But they make their cases - the way Camp Half-Blood could help in the upcoming war against the giants, their own roles in the previous war against the titans.

It is a convincing argument - both Perseus and him are unmovable objects, and Reyna is an unstoppable force - but they do hit a rock in the way.

"If the best your camp has to offer is a healer of Phebus Apollo, a bulla-wearer of Flamen Vulcan, a daughter of Venus Verticordia and two children of Minerva - a virgin goddess - this Alliance is highly unfair for the people of Rome!"

It had to be Octavian, Jason thinks. It is good, then, that Perseus has the tongue made of steel and looks like a Basileus - sat on a throne, overlooking them, with a bored look upon his face, he could demand a crown and they would give him.

"You overestimate yourself, Augur Primus Octavian. You see yourself so mighty that you have no need for allies?"

It is mocking and there's a message behind it - "This is where I come from and I am your Praetor - do you challenge my power?" - it makes Jason shiver.

Perseus - Praetor Jackson of Styx - is his father through and through. Jason only met the god once - in the post-war council in Olympus - but he had the same imposing voice, the same luxury that seduced Proserpina to the Underworld.

Just like he looked leading the greek forces against Kronos, wielding his weapons of choice with a roar that made Manhattan tremble.

It seemed to work - for Octavian shut up pretty quickly. Jason is no longer in a position to do it - he is respected, technically, as a Propraetor, but he barely reached half of his term - after spending a year as Legatus Legionis - a position which Frank Zhang more than deserved.

Everything is going well - too well, for Piper's liking. Perseus is cool, Reyna is cooler, they have a whole government (!), Jason is making heart-eyes at dream dude and even prejudiced guy recognized her as a girl.

They have a feast - where they are introduced to Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque - and Piper sure isn't keeping all those titles straight in her head, this is Annabeth's job.

Centurion Levesque - Hazel, a girl a little younger than them, but apparently already a general - keeps looking at Leo as if he is about to implode - a normal reaction to him. She stops once they are introduced - there's a forlorn air about her.

She catches up a little with Perseus - who is the most oblivious person to ever grace this earth, for so many look at him and he barely looks at anything but his paperwork - who finds it mightly funny to slowly eat a pomegranate while everyone freaks out at the implications.

Well - he thinks they are scared. But Piper knows they're just horny and waiting to pass winter cozying up in hell.

Perseus explains to her (finally) why they give the gods different names - Venus Verticordia, Genetrix, and Victrix; Juno Moneta, Regina, Lucina, and Populona; Mars Ultor, Pater, Quirinus, and Gradivus, etc. He explains they are epithets - different forms of each god.

Different from the greek to roman transition, these are the same gods - in very different facades. Like, for example, her mother could either be Venus Genetrix - the maternal one - Victrix - the war one - or Verticordia - the romantic love one.

Greeks used to have this - but some of their aspects got too jumbled, so they started rebirthing - evolution. Zagreus became Dionysus. Hermes split from Pan. Helius merged with Apollo, Selene merged with Artemis. As their cult changed - so did they.

Children of Venus Genetrix and Verticordia are different from Children of Venus Victrix - still brothers and sisters, but their powers are different - where the first lean towards priesthood and the second towards charm speak and magic - almost all the third's are warriors of the same caliber of Mars Ultor's children.

Everyone here is so different though- Perseus' P.A., Sabina, is a total badass and Piper would be all for her... but wouldn't that invalidate her? She spent her whole life trying to prove she is a girl - to now go pursue sex with other girls? Piper is confused - she should IM Ariel before sleeping

It is all going very well - minor accident when someone mentioned Perseus' decision to send the harpy Ella away days ago - probably to Rachel - until Octavian decides to see the ship. And, of course, Leo just has to go.

Jason is proving to be very smart - for while Leo is occupied above with Octavian, he insists to also be on the ship, with Will and Malcolm as his backup - no one here trusts the drowned rat.

They take with them Frank and Hazel Levesque - two possible candidates for the mission on the Roman side - evening the sides - three Romans, three greeks, and Jason - a medium.

Perseus stays on ground - he is the host and can't leave the party - with Reyna - who is talking to Annabeth in hushed whispers - and her - who is starting to get a little tipsy.

Well. She should've known better.

Leo attacks the camp - it's not him, but it's enough. Perseus - at the first cannon bomb - whispers something in Reyna's ear, and escort her and Annabeth to the ship before Roma can react.

He jumps on board, pops an unconscious Octavian out of the ship, and tells Annabeth to get out of there in the next ten minutes or he won't have an alibi. They do - but look at him like he is either crazy or drunk, still in laurels and a toga, a goblet of wine precariously between his fingers.

"I'm Praetor Peregrinus Jackson of Styx - and this is an espionage mission with the objective of rescuing Legatus Legionis Zhang and Centurion Levesque while finding who is the greek traitor. At least, officially - I'm here because I am not a big fan of the woman encroaching in my territory, trying to kill my friends."

Leo - who is still disoriented of what Frank explain is an eidolon, they had a run with those when the attacks on Nova Roma started - starts laughing and takes Annabeth's place steering the Argo II. After a minute of silence, everyone starts laughing - the man is a genius.

So they go after decent clothing - because just Hazel and Frank are in battle appropriate clothing, and Perseus just noticed that they're floating and he can almost see the equations around his head - he wants so bad to talk to him because he has the same numbers around him all the time.

After everyone is in pants and shirts - Perseus, Frank, and Hazel take the loose shirts - Annabeth brought a stash of clothes in more or less their size, in Jason's word - but, while Frank tugs on a pair of sweatpants, the other two look at each other.

Leo is not really surprised when Hazel is in a skirt - but he gasps when Perseus walks in Frank's roman military skirt. He looks uncomfortable at the mere idea of pants.

No one says anything - not only they lived in CHB, but he has the Minotaur dagger that pair perfectly with Rachel's strapped to his tight, while his ax and Warhammer are crossed in his back.

Leo can see Jason drooling - he isn't the only one. Leo is newly sixteen - the youngest bar Will, and, perhaps, Hazel - and generally more interested in machines but he is not blind - the guy is hot.

Perseus gets hotter when he comes to Leo - still with a resting bitch face that would give Chiron a run for his money - and starts asking questions with the excitement of a puppy - about the ship, about the plans, how the aerodynamics work.

Hazel is roped into the conversation when they try and test if she has any control over the wind - almost nothing, but Perseus thinks he can hone her eventually - while Will and Malcolm start grilling Frank and Jason over Nova Roma.

Perseus mentions Nico - which Hazel supports. He hasn't be seen in either Camp since Perseus recovered his memories - said he was going to make up for it, but Percy knows the guy is a little self-destructive - he is too prideful to know when to just stop.

Piper and Annabeth are on patrol - no one is really sure the Romans aren't going after them. It doesn't serve for much: they are attacked.

Not by Romans, but by griffins. Between Jason, Piper, and Annabeth, Perseus and Leo don't even move. The ship does suffer some damage - which prompts Leo to give the Romans a tour of the Argo II.

Perseus is fascinated by Festus - while Hazel is fascinated by Leo - And Frank is seriously just marveling at the greeks by now - Nova Roma is pleasing to the eye, but they don't have automaton dragon ships.

They go to Salt Lake. Jason, Frank, and Piper go get tar, while Leo, Hazel, and Perseus go to the Celestial Bronze. Annabeth, Malcolm, and Will stay, to protect the ship.

It's the first time Perseus has touched land outside of Roma with his memories back - and he can feel a pressure in his chest: His link of empathy to Grover, never completely off.

They encounter Nemesis - who talks to Perseus about Ethan and Domitia, for which he retorts she has no rights. She took Ethan's eye, and his choice was not worth it - she asked for too high a payment.

Nemesis, or Invidia, laughs. Says the world isn't fair - look at Perseus and Jason, Leo and Sammy, Hazel and Nico, the marks in Roman's backs. She doesn't explain anything - but they understand.

Perseus understands Hazel and Nico - it's not fair, that her brother is missing, probably captured if his dreams have an ounce of truth. Leo understands Perseus and Jason - for Jason confided in him for months. It's unfair that Perseus doesn't know as much about Jason - and that Jason knows way too much about him.

Both Hazel and Perseus muse about Sammy - the one from Hazel's flashbacks. They hold hands and keep silent - this is not the moment. Leo doesn't ask about the marks - he saw Jason bare-chested once. He doesn't need to know more.

Invidia gives the fortune cookie to Leo, and promptly disappears - Percy wants to punch her. For Alabaster, for Ethan, for Domitia and the punishments that she has to dole out.

They meet Echo - who Perseus pity and rages, for it's the gods's fault. She couldn't refuse to help Zeus - neither could she flee from Hera's punishment, or Eros' arrows. It's their fault, that she stands now, alive again, but incapable of happiness.

Narcissus is a dick. And Hazel thinks that both Sammy - Leo - and Percy - who looks just like Pluto, and not in a bad way - could surpass him in both looks and personality.

Percy and Leo distract the nymphs - in different ways. Perseus plays his father well, and the dryads flee to Leo, in search of protection from a hero. A black makeshift toga Echo gives them, and that's it: The god of the Underworld coming to kidnap someone else.

Hazel retrieves the Celestial Bronze - the energy in it is strong enough, with Perseus opening the earth sideways for it to pass. They don't need to run back to the ship: Percy keeps evoking skeletons, which scares the nymphs, and in a fit of fury for Echo, Leo breaks Narcissus' nose - which sends him into a panic.

While getting tar, Piper feels her dagger heating up - Katoptris shows her a man Jason recognizes as Dionysus, in Topeka.

When everyone is back to the ship, they relay their stories. Perseus briefly asks Annabeth about Grover - who she tells him is occupied in Maine this year, but never gave up on looking for Perseus. Then, they leave for Topeka - they have a god to meet.

"I know a friend who could help us get down" Starts Perseus, looking at the emptiness under them with worry. The daughter of Aphrodite sympathizes.

"I thought you couldn't shadow travel more than one person at a time" States Jason, with all the creepiness of the dream stalker that he is. Piper is laughing - while Jason flushes and tries to explain.

Perseus ignores it, for the sake of his sanity, and asks if Jason has a Pegasus: Thalia has Porkpie, and he is right, Perseus couldn't possibly get three of them down and up without draining himself.

Jason doesn't have a pegasus - he does have Arion, the son of his matron, Ceres, and Neptune, his father. It doesn't fly - but Hazel has a venti that does.

So it goes Hazel and Jason on Tempest, Piper, and Perseus on Blackjack. Bacchus is waiting for them, a two-liter bottle of Pepsi in one hand.

While many of the roman aspects of greek gods are mainly more rigid, Bacchus is the complete opposite. Dionysus is a god of madness and, in his older iterations, Zagreus, a god of the Underworld.

Bacchus is a god of drunkness, sex, excess, and parties. He has none of the darker sides of his counterpart - nor the austerity of his aspect as Bacchus Liber, a god of freedom, fertility, and protector of people.

No, this was Bacchus in his most simple form: a deadbeat drunk. Piper is so tired - why couldn't she be born in a serious pantheon? Egyptians seem pretty focused.

Bacchus wishes for Ceres' presence - says it's not his responsibility to deal with plants - this is the dominion of Liber, and he can't be Liber without Ceres here. He asks Jason or Perseus to call for the matron - she should listen to them - but Ceres doesn't answer their prayers.

Perseus is as done as Piper and just rolls his eyes. At the presence of a fertility god, even if he only has a bare connection to it, vines start growing around the son of Hades' ankles, like if they're coming to play. Perseus is not only a son of Hades', Piper remembers, but he is also a champion of Persephone.

And while Jason's only blessing is his magical horse, Perseus was trained and has some mild control over plants - Piper thinks he got the better goddess in the deal.

Bacchus - drunk in Pepsi, if that's even possible - don't answer much. He tells them about Phorcys, and paying tribute - Liber would probably answer to it. He then flees.

Jason and Perseus hold a brief conversation about holding evening prayers - Piper doesn't understand much, but Hazel is nodding along, so it can't be bad: The girl is pretty level-headed.

Perseus is a son of the Underworld, he cannot be possessed by spirits, and fight them off easily, and Jason does too - mainly because he knows Perseus way too much to attack him.

But then the spirits turn to the girls. Jason has to throw a wave over Perseus to wake him from Piper's charmspeak so that he can exorcise them. It works, but Perseus has a small panic attack over drowning, is immediately drained and faints on his arms.

So Jason hauls Piper and Hazel over Tempest, so the venti takes them up first, before he bride-carries Perseus into a hurricane and over to Argo II, and promptly passing out from exhaustion and scaring the hell out of everyone on board.

Jason thinks it's worth it - Perseus asks him to start calling him Percy, and, in the Mess Hall, each takes one head of the table. He feels like he should be bothered - he isn't one to share leadership, but they all know the true head of operations here is Annabeth, so.

Percy tells them what he told Reyna - to stop any from following them, for this was a special ops mission. It's his role, and, later, Jason and he can strategize what Perseus will say in the Iris Messages to the Senatus.

And how they're going to spin crossing the Mediterranean Sea without using Julius Caesar's journey as a comparative too much, least they think Jason and Perseus are planning a coup.

They totally are. The two of them and Reyna would be the first triumvirate to work.

That evening, they sit together on the deck and talk. Not about Jason's dreams, not about Perseus's fear of drowning. But the joke about the Forum, and trade anecdotes of campers both know - and it feels like something.

Perseus dreams of drowning on earth and trashes around in his sleep - just until he starts dreaming of Nico again.

Nico is locked up in a cage - like a bird trying to reach flight. Ephialtes and Otis taunt him - two eagles come and try to attack him. He fends them off - feeding off electricity in the sky - but Perseus knows he won't be able to keep this for a long time.

Perseus goes to the deeps of the ship, just close to the motors, and cuddles up to Blackjack - the Nico situation will have to wait until morning.

In the same night, Leo catches Frank sleeping as a dog - and his crush on the guy threatens to swallow him whole.

It's Will who finds him, twelve hours later. Everyone is pissed that Perseus disappeared - so they don't let him go search for Phorcys with Jason, sending the blonde boy with Frank and Will, claiming the son of Hades is still exhausted from the past day.

Perseus stays on board. He tries to decypher his vision with Piper and Hazel, while Malcolm and Annabeth trace the route to their own mission. Leo is steering the ship and finishing the repairs.

Hazel is worried about what Percy saw. The two eagles match a dream she had, a little over a week ago: Prometheus. If those eagles reach Nico, when Nico gets too weak, he will have his liver ripped off, and no magical powers to regrow it.

Jason's mission is also giving bad results. They meet Keto - who Jason is pretty sure he already killed once - and is uncooperative as she takes Will in a tour. Phorcys is much more open - after a little flattery, he tells them all about the twin Giants, the prisoner in a cage - bait for Perseus Jackson and Hazel Levesque - and a map that would possibly lead to the Athenas Parthenos.

They escape when Will kills Keto with a well-positioned arrow, before breaking the tank together and fleeing to Argus II.

In the way to Charleston, they discuss where could the map be. Perseus trade his first Iris Message with the Senatus - in his room, faking that both Frank and Hazel are helping him, and that the greeks have no idea what happened - that there is a traitor in their midst, but the Alliance continues.

Perseus hopes they can win this war with minimum bloodshed, and then he can claim the traitor was controlled by Gaia or something because that's not his main preoccupation. He trades information with Reyna - she tells him to go to Battery.

Annabeth remembers her meeting with her mother - for this time, she was accompanied by Malcolm. Athena told them they were failures - wasting their time searching for a son of Hades. But that they should have a chance at proving themselves - and gave them the small silver coin. To "avenge" her.

Athena raged and bristled about Annabeth and Malcolm helping the Romans, but that's where Annabeth would not relent. Would her mother prefer destruction over her pride? Oh, how wise.

Annabeth feels ashamed she still craves her mother's approval, while the goddess simply saw them as pawns, even after the war raged by the rejected children - she was one of the Olympians with most children on the opposite side.

This time, they play with the finger trap all together - in the mess hall - and Annabeth looks at them and decides this is her family, not a bitter goddess that never bothered with her. She wasn't doing this for Athena - she was doing this for Camp, and her friends.

Annabeth, Hazel, and Perseus go to the Battery, while Leo, Frank, and Malcolm go to the museum after the map. Jason goes to the bay with Will, to try and free the animals at Phorcys aquarium, and Piper stays on board to patrol the ship.

Aphrodite is flickering between her greek form and her Venus Genetrix aspect, but ends up settling as Venus Verticordia - the closest she can get to greek between a roman, a greek, and Perseus, who, according to her, is both.

"You shall tread carefully with love, Annabeth Chase, for your heart lays elsewhere; You are locked up between two ways of the heart, Hazel Levesque, and shall thread both; And you, Perseus Jackson of Styx, when it comes to the heart, you are my crown jewel."

Perseus would punch her, but he knows better: Verticordia means "the changer of hearts", she is a manipulator, a player. It's this aspect who caused the Trojan War, who tossed Aeneas right and left for Lavinia.

He much prefers Venus Victrix, who appears when they're about to leave, to warn then about the importance of the statue and the location of the map, in Fort Sumter.

Octavian - who was conspicuously missing from the Senatus meeting - is here - against the orders of both Praetors. He tries to attack them - but Perseus makes the earth tremble and they run away. Jason and Will join the fray, and they send a message to Leo's group for them to regroup.

Annabeth gets the map - again fighting against spiders and the voice of Lady Earth - but this time there's no Reyna to confront her - this time, Roma is on their side.

Perseus asks if killing Octavian would be so bad, after all, but Hazel stops him from making the earth swallow the Augur - he is still a person, after all.

They change their minds pretty quickly once Reyna IM's Perseus, saying that Octavian poisoned the minds of the Senatus against the greeks and that she was unable to do much. She says the Augur is claiming that Perseus, Jason, Frank, and Hazel are mind-controlled by Piper - and that he tried valiantly to rescue them, but failed.

Perseus is pretty sure that he should've made the earth swallow him, send him directly to the Punishment Fields so he wouldn't be able to leave the Underworld never again, the lying rat.

It takes three days for them to reach the Mediterranean Sea. These three days are spent most with training and planning - while the children of Athena plan for their mission, Hazel and Frank train their powers, Perseus and Piper spar, Annabeth and Leo steer the ship, Perseus and Jason spar and patrol, Jason and Annabeth trade ideas about the two sides, Will mends a lot of people up.

Leo, especially, admires both Hazel and Frank from afar - since the Narcissus situation, he can't keep his eyes off the girl, and Frank is just adorable - he feels like he just watched Pirates of the Caribbean all over again.

The group becomes pretty tight - especially after Will walks in Percy without a shirt on, and immediately manhandles him into the infirmary. He does the same with all Romans - trying to figure an answer to those scars.

Will has a boyfriend - Jake Mason, seventeen - who has the same bad habit of hiding scars from him. But since he lost his foot - Will has discovered a thousand ways to find someone's health problems.

Piper and Leo are not surprised - they are the closest to Jason after all. Malcolm and Annabeth are up in arms - and they call the greeks barbarians?

Jason blames himself - for he has a guilty streak a mile wide, and apologizes to them - as if is his fault Juno had this godawful idea. Perseus punches him in the shoulder and tells him to stop with the bullshit - they have bigger problems than that.

They meet Heracles - and their best speakers are Piper, Perseus, and Will - the charmspeaker, the Praetor who actually finished high school, and the son of the god of poetry - maybe some flattery would help.

Heracles is a complete ass - no, he is a creep. He leers on Will - who is fifteen and he calls eromenos, yes, like a pedophile - then on Piper - who is utterly unimpressed - but don't try on Perseus - his eyes are as dark as the Pit, and he looks ready to punch Heracles.

They don't mention Hera - because the three are smarter than to mention the woman who turned the god's life miserable - but, after Piper refuses to kiss him, he gives him the mission to get the horn of Achelous anyway.

The Achelous is suitably afraid of Perseus - and it's easier to break his horn. They fight against the god - Will punches the guy in the face, while Perseus has no qualms about swarming him with skeletons and melting his armor.

Jason - who is keeping a keen eye on them from the deck - raises a wave for them to go onboard. Will - dripping and utterly mad - starts throwing curses at Heracles - he shines with the power of his father.

Percy is trembling - he hates water, he hates the feeling of drowning, he hates water in his face. He feels weak.

Hercules throws stones at the ship - but fail to hit anything, even if he almost gets Jason - who is pushed to the ground by Perseus, who grounded himself on the blonde.

For now, they have a cornucopia and managed to pass Heracles - so they just hug and laugh breathlessly at Will's increasingly ridiculous curses.

In the midnight patrol, while keeping watch for Stymphalian birds (Perseus hates those), they talk. Perseus tells him about drowning in his own element, about his distaste for both air and water - explains why he never gets close to the margins of the ship.

"Y'know, I dreamed of you" Percy nods, but Jason shakes his head "Not for a week or two, but for seven months. I thought it was Juno..."

Percy seems tense as if he is about to flee at any moment. High-strung. He looks anywhere but at Jason, and finally, he murmurs, almost too low for the silence that expands between them.

"How much?" "Everything."

He tells Percy about his dreams: Luke, Ethan, Alabaster, Persephone, Hades, Sally, Annabeth, Clarisse&Connor, the Labyrinth, the Sea of Monsters, Bianca, Nico, Zoe, Thalia, the weight of the sky, the Styx, the last defense of Olympus.

There are a lot of pieces missing - Percy Jackson is not a puzzle, but a giant Rubik Cube with ten sides - but Jason saw the worst parts of Perseus, his friends, the betrayals, the deaths, the bitterness that threatened to swallow him whole.

Percy doesn't answer - he flees. Back to his room, to conciliate that someone has dreamed about him, for months. That someone he is barely friends with knows so many deep details about him, things he never told anyone, and didn't plan to, ever.

It's not the only difficult conversation that night by far - Hazel and Leo are having a similar one.

You see, Leo is, by all means, closer to Jason out of all romans, and the least close to Frank - who is Hazel's best friend. Leo is pretty friendly flirty with Hazel since the Narcissus situation - because she is cute and just a year below him - but he also has been nursing this massive crush on Frank - who is a hunk of a man with the attitude of a puppy.

But seeing that Frank is straight as a board and Hazel only sees him as his grandfather, apparently, he is out of luck in this department - nothing new. At least he has a bunch of friends.

"Are you my friend only because of my grandfather?" "Of course not." Leo doesn't believe her, but he lets it go - it's the fatal flaw of Hephaestus' children: Lack of self-worth.

Perseus sleeps fitfully - and wakes Hazel to tell her about his vision of Otis and Ephialtes, for she is Nico's sister. They go to the deck, and he plays with her hair as they watch the sunrise.

Jason - looking at them from the other side of the ship - suddenly has a bad feeling - there's something coming in their direction. He makes Leo - who is steering this night - stop, but they are rammed and overrun by dolphin warriors.

Chrysaor disarms Jason - and his crew manages to tie everybody up - except for Perseus, who managed to flee into the shadows, and Frank, who hid away.

It's pretty simple from there - Hazel and Piper trash around when Chrysaor says he is taking them to Circe, Jason says their Captain is Dionysus, and Chrysaor says he is a roman, and Bacchus is weak in comparison to his greek form.

To prove Jason's point, Frank turns into a dolphin while Perseus makes vines appear and hold Chrysaor into place. Their enemies throw themselves overboard, including Chrysaor himself - and Jason sinks their ship by filling it with Diet Coke and Pepsi and burning it to Dionysus and Bacchus Liber - both of the serious sides of the god.

Perseus sleeps on the deck under the fickle rays of the midday sun and dreams of Gaea. Jason wakes him. They spend an awkward moment looking at each other before Jason hugs him.

"I'm sorry" "It's not your fault, stop blaming yourself for everything, Water Boy" "Sure, Death Boy"

They laugh - and for a second, they feel their own ages - eighteen and seventeen - without a care in the world. They mock-wrestle before giving up and just laying in the sun.

Perseus looks at Jason and thinks his beauty under the light of the day might be a good reason to tolerate the brightness.

It's Leo - with a knowing smirk - that tells them to come to mess hall - they need to plan.

Annabeth and Malcolm are going together to the Tiber River - but the children of Athena aren't leaving without a proper send-off - so they're having lunch together first, all together.

They pile around two tables in a little restaurant. This time is not Percy that asks for pizza - it's Leo and Will.

They eat and joke - and forget they are demigods in a mission that might bring the end of the world. No, for a second they're just teenagers - Malcolm is the oldest at twenty, and Hazel and Will are the youngest, both fifteen.

The group jokes and fools around, spending more or less an hour at the little restaurant. The old man who manages the place has a warm smile upon his face.

They go to the park close to the river to walk around - they are stalling the time they'll have to go back to their hardships. Annabeth and Perseus walk together, apart from the others - she says she wants to catch up.

Annabeth has a crush on Perseus since they were both fourteen. She studied with him for a year - he as a senior, she as a freshman - and this crush only grew. She looked for him for months, he is her best friend and she loves him.

Annabeth still remembers after the war - when she thought they would get together. They were both too caught up in mourning - Perseus even more than her - even if she always knew he corresponded. But this... this might be her last chance to tell him.

So, she kisses him.

Perseus is shocked. He is shocked, and speechless.

"Annabeth..." He says, but she takes this as iniciative and goes back to kissing him "Annabeth!"

Kisses have to mean something to him. And Percy only feels friendship with Annabeth.

She stops, and there are tears in the corners of her eyes. But Perseus just hugs her and says, slowly and as kindly as possible.

"Annabeth... We can't do this. It's been... it's been months. I-... I love you. But we-... I-... Not that way, Annie, not anymore. We spent months apart, and before that, I was too busy with school, and before that..." He takes a deep breath, and clear her tears with his thumbs "I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this."

Annabeth doesn't cry. She doesn't scream and rage with jealously and ask "Who else? Who else if not me?". She wants to because she knows, she knows he loves her, and Annabeth has never been wrong before.

Because she remembers Aphrodite. Her heart doesn't lay with Percy - her heart lays elsewhere. It still hurts - but she just nods and asks him if they can still be friends, for which he answers an enthusiastic yes.

There's a little voice in her head, that keeps comparing her to Reyna Arellano, Jason Grace, and Nico di Angelo, their powerful heritages and legacies. A sliver of poison in her heart, that shows her Rachel, Calypso, and Piper - their beauties far beyond hers.

Then she takes a deep breath, finds her brother, says goodbye to everyone, and leaves with Rhea Silvia and Tiberinus. Annabeth has a mission.

Annabeth and Malcolm pass by the same challenges - she with a broken ankle and him with a twisted wrist - and both fall again in the hands of Arachne.

While the children of Athena fight their way through the underground, Perseus, Hazel, Frank, and Leo embark on a mission after Nico di Angelo, and the rest of the demigods go back to the ship.

Hazel - who is almost sentient to Perseus moods at this point - takes one look at Annabeth's rushed departure and Percy's wistful face, and, when their group takes off, takes the demigod aside, leaving Leo and Frank to walk side by side.

"I'm telling you, Hazel, because you won't tell anyone else - and I don't have anyone else as close as you on board. I would've said yes, perhaps, had she asked this question before... before everything. Had she told me this when I was fourteen or fifteen, I would be overjoyed. But it has been two and a half harrowing years since... since Luke. And I cannot love her - there's too much history."

He tells Hazel what she cannot remember from what Perseus told her in the Fields of Asphodel, and she nods and calms him - she became a kind of his little sister in the short four months that they have known each other alive - and the year and a half they knew each other dead. Closer than most, aside, perhaps, from Rachel (who he still managed to talk to once after this mission started), his mom, Calypso (who he still hasn't be able to contact) and Persephone.

Leo and Frank are behind them - far behind them, so to not accidentally eavesdrop in their conversation. They talk - a little stilted - but it quickly picks rhythm, as Leo is such a charming person - and Frank is a weak, weak man.

You see, while Leo pines from afar for both Hazel and Frank, Frank himself is dealing with the fact that, since leaving Nova Roma, those improper feelings towards inappropriate people resurfaced - now, together with something even worse.

Frank doesn't want just men anymore, like the clear aberration that he is. He wants a boy and a girl - and at the same time, at that! Not only improper - for he is two years older than Hazel and Leo is a boy - but they are clearly infatuated with each other.

And Frank doesn't really think he could be happy with one of them - he wants both, together. Selfish, something in the back of his mind says, so selfish. Let them be happy, they don't need you.

So he hoards this little conversation with Leo in his chest, like a precious treasure he won't ever get the chance to hold again.

Perseus and Hazel eventually go to the underground - while Frank and Leo still talk - about life, about their mothers, even about Frank's stick. Leo wants to hold the boy and never let go.

The Eidolons appear, forcing Leo and Frank down the hole, where they meet back up with Hazel and Perseus. They find a workshop - full of stuff that makes Leo salivate.

While exploring the workshop, the Eidolons take control of the automatons, quickly knocking out Hazel and Frank. Perseus is able to banish them - but by now, the automatons are out of control - it's the Bianca situation all over again.

He and Leo escape into a control room and lock it. Leo finds a control sphere for everything in the shop but they're unable to find the right password. Leo uses the fortune cookie Nemesis gave him to ask for the password, allowing him to take control of the machines and deactivate them forever. Perseus seethes inside - the little manipulative bitch.

When Perseus questions why his efforts with Hazel lead them to this workshop, they find Nico's Celestial Bronze and realize it was a trap. 

Gaea appears in a mirror and taunts them, but Leo burns the mirror - "I thought Mother Nature was supposed to be cool but this is what we got? Sheesh, this is almost Aztec-levels of crazy man" - and they leave to go search for Nico.

[bittywitches]

50 w g?

50. Getting paired up on an amusement park that requires even numbered riders.

Omg okay so there’s this ride at Canada’s Wonderland called White Water Canyon and it’s a pretty chill ride but most people get on it knowing there’s a chance they’ll get wet but not knowing that they most definitely will lol and I feel like that’s the best ride to make you become instant friends w a stranger so I had something like that in mind while writing this :)

You had been waiting in line with your friends for nearly a half hour, debating every five minutes or so whether or not you should just leave and come back later. A half hour definitely was a step up from the waiting times of most of the other rides at the park, though that didn’t mean you weren’t gonna get bored.

Finally though, you guys were able to make it to the front of the line, excited to get on.

“If you guys have any valuables you probably don’t want to bring them on,” the employee told you four, and you all nodded along as he lead you towards your raft.

“One by one, careful not to slosh the raft around too much.”

“We’ve been here before, we know how it works.” You giggled at your friend Ellie, her brazen attitude always being the one to get a laugh out of the group.

You all seated yourself in the raft, but there were still two empty seats next to yours in the circle. “Wait here, we’ll find someone to fill up the seats.”

“Any pairs available?” He shouted out towards the line. You immediately saw two arms shoot up in the middle of the line.

“We’ve got two people!” A voice shouted from within the pack of people waiting.

“Great, come on up.”

A buzz of moans and protests came from the others in line, begrudgingly making room for the two boys to make their way through.

Your eyes widened when you saw the first of the boys; tan, muscular, and he was wearing a very loose tank top that was very flattering on him. But your eyes widened even more when you saw the boy following him: they looked practically the same.

“Holy shit i think that guy is so hot I’m seeing double.” Ava muttered, and you all laughed.

The employee lead the two boys over to the raft. “You girls okay with these guys joining you?”

“Absolutely.” Ellie said, ogling at the second twin quite obviously.

“Ellie, shut up!” You swatted her arm, getting a laugh out of her.

You looked up to meet the eyes of the first twin you’d seen. He smiled at you, and you returned it as he stepped gently into the raft, though it bobbed under his weight. You noticed the light glinting off of the chain he was wearing.

He sat himself down next to you, casually brushing against your shoulder as he did so.

“Hi.” He said to you with a grin.

“Hey,” you smiled.

The second twin stumbled into the raft, almost falling right on top of Ellie. He would’ve if it weren’t for your bags in the middle preventing him from doing so.

“Woah, someone’s a little eager.” The three of you groaned, and you could see the boy’s ears tint a slight shade of pink.

“Don’t mind her. She doesn’t understand basic human interaction.” Your friend Aliyah said, patting the seat next to her for him to sit down.

“Alright riders, make sure to keep your hands and feet within the raft at all times. Please do not stand up at any point while the raft is in motion. The park is not responsible for the loss of any valued items on this ride. Most importantly, have fun!”

The employee pushed the raft out of the waiting dock and into the water, waving as the six of you giggled nervously for the ride to start. The raft began to move, rotating slightly as it did.

“Shit we’re gonna get splashed,” tank-top said, nervously looking over his shoulder at the small drop in the rapids approaching.

“Don’t worry, the first two don’t really do much. It’s only afterwards you gotta be scared.”

He laughed and nodded, but still squinted when the raft dipped and dropped. His shoulders relaxed when he didn’t feel any water on him.

“Oh by the way, just letting you know,” Ava gestured to get tank-top’s attention. “Y/N has the worst luck when it comes to this ride, so you’re most definitely gonna get completely wet.”

“Aw,” he responded, going to look at you.

You laughed sheepishly. “Yea, Sorry. Probably not the best decision to sit beside me.”

He shrugged, chuckling. “It’s all good. All part of the fun.”

There was a general “oh” sound from the group when the raft hit the edge of the river, causing it to jerk to the side and rotate around so Aliyah and the twin had their backs to the water.

“Hah, you guys are gonna get soaked!” Ellie cackled, watching their faces turn more and more uneasy the closer the raft got to the next dip.

Their sounds of distress increased as the raft approached the drop, until the raft finally reached that point, thrusting into the water, a short but heavy splash hitting Aliyah and the twin.

“Holy shit that’s cold,” The boy said, panting after the water splashed onto his back.

“I think my undies are soaked,” Aliyah whined, and the group laughed.

The raft drifted down the river, getting faster as the slope got steeper, causing you to hit more sides and stumps, jiggling the raft and getting little splashes from all around.

“Oh oh get ready here comes another one!” Ava said excitedly.

Of course exactly when she said that was when the raft bumped into the side again, turning around so you and tank-top had your backs to the water.

“Come on, why’d you have to jinx it?!” You yelled, frantically looking back at the water.

“Quick, lean!!” You hurriedly tapped tank-top’s shoulder, and you both tried your best to get the raft to turn, but it wouldn’t budge, and the ice-cold water got both of your lower backs and most of your legs, getting a squeal out of you and a shout from him.

He turned to look at you, chuckling. “Sorry, I tried.”

“Hey, no big deal. I’m just sorry you’re getting my bad luck!”

“Well you’re about to get some more because here comes another one!” Ellie hollered, pointing behind tank-top’s head.

“Shit!” He yelled, trying to paddle the water with his arms to get the raft to move, and luckily for you he was able to get it to turn just enough so the prime targets would be him and his brother, but you were still definitely in the splash zone.

“AHH!” You all screamed at the large drop. You grabbed the boy’s shoulder with both your arms and pulled him forward, shielding yourself from the biggest splash. The water hit the side of the raft and flew up all the way to the other side, absolutely soaking the twins and getting your friends in the process.

“Haha, yes!” You yelled triumphantly, revelling in your dryness.

“Hey! That was so unfair!” Tank-top shot his head over to look at you, water flying from his wet hair and getting all over you.

“When you have luck like me you gotta do what you can!” You stuck your tongue out at him cheekily.

“That doesn’t mean use me as a meat-shield!” He bantered. He dipped his hand into the water behind him and threw it at you, getting your front and your face.

“Oh my god!” You wiped the water from your face, giving him an incredulous grin. “You are so-”

You aggressively splashed more water at him in response, causing you guys to keep splashing each other until you were pretty much wet from head-to-toe, and ending with you both shaking in laughter.

“If you guys are already soaked, mind coming over here and shielding us from the waterfall?” Ava startled you both, pointing behind you at the water raining down from the top of the tunnel, only meters away.

“Shit!” You both yelled, and the shouts only spread to everyone else once the raft passed through it, evidently getting everyone completely drenched.

The group laughed and groaned as the raft slowly drifted back to the dock, finishing its route along the river.

“Did you guys have fun?” The employee asks, bringing your raft to a stop.

“Absolutely.” Tank-top said, getting a laugh from Ellie.

After a few minutes, everyone made their way out of the raft. You were picking up your bag from the middle of it, and looked up to see tank-top standing on the dock waiting for you with a hand outstretched.

You smiled, taking his hand and climbing out of the raft.

“Thanks.”

“That was really fun.”

“Yea, it was!” you agreed. You noticed your friends waving to you from the exit. “I gotta go. I’ll see you around-”

“Wait!” His hand touched your arm slightly, and you looked back at him with a questioning look.

“Um,” He ran a hand through his wet hair. “Are you gonna stay until the fireworks tonight?”

“Oh, yea!”

“You think I’ll see you there?”

You blushed a bit. “Um, yea, maybe.” You were about to keep walking again, but he grabbed your arm.

“Where will I find you?”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “Um, I’m not sure…” Then an idea popped into your head. “Oh! Hold on,” You stuck your hand into your back pocket and produced a black marker. You’d been keeping it there so you could check off all the rides you visited on the park’s map. You took his forearm in one hand, and in the other you brought your shirt up to try and wipe the water from it. Then you uncapped your marker using your teeth, keeping the lid in your mouth as you wrote your name and phone number on his arm.

“There,” You mumbled, taking the lid from your lips. “If you wanna find me, just call.”

He looked down to read what you’d written, and smiled. “Okay. Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem…” You paused, but he was still staring at his arm. “Um, this is where you tell me your name.”

“Oh!” His head shot up. “Grayson. I’m Grayson.”

You smiled. “Okay. Hope to see you tonight, Grayson.”

He grinned at you, his white teeth seeming to shine like the hot summer sun. You waved to him as you walked back towards your friends. When you turned back around, you saw Ellie standing there with her arms crossed.

“If you get that one, can I get the other one?”

“Ellie!!”

[bittysvalentines]

The Stranger the Better

From: @hockeydyke

To: @bitty-smol

Summary: Kent’s had a bad day and he figures date night with Bitty will improve his mood. But when Bitty watches a hot stranger get stood up, he decides to invite the man over to join him and Kent for the night. The only problem? Kent knows the guy.

Rating: T

Tags: Alternate universe- no one plays hockey, Established Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Kent “Parse” Parson, Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Kent “Parse” Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Misunderstandings

Kent hadn’t had the best day so far.

All things considered, though, he was doing a pretty good job of holding it together. In fact, he was actually proud that he hadn’t snapped at his boyfriend at all despite his bad mood, because he was still feeling rational enough to know that he didn’t actually want to push Bitty away or do anything to make things worse. Instead, he was trying to ignore it and go about his daily routine as usual.

And sure, maybe it wasn’t the best thing in the world for Kent to push down all his feelings and frustrations, but Bitty had a tendency to pick up the moods of the people around him, and Kent didn’t want to make Bitty grumpy just because he had the misfortune of being both physically and emotionally close to a particularly pissy Kent Parson on what could otherwise be an entirely pleasant Friday night.

So Kent had texted Bitty during work and suggested a low-key dinner date, because enchiladas and a couple happy hour drinks from Cactus Cantina across the street from their apartment certainly couldn’t make things worse. All Kent knew was that the place was casual, the dessert menu was up to Bitty’s standards, and the drink selection rotated often enough to keep him happy, so it was a win for both of them, and they usually ended up there at least once a week.

And that’s what brought Kent to where he was currently, sipping a half-priced strawberry swirl margarita and pouting because his boyfriend wasn’t paying attention to him. This was particularly offensive to Kent since Bitty was busy looking over Kent’s shoulder at some hot guy who’d sat down on the other side of the room around when they’d arrived. The nerve of it all. Sure, Kent and Bitty had an open relationship, but that didn’t mean that Kent never got jealous-- especially when he was two margs in and in need of attention as he tried to tell an entertaining story about Jenna from Marketing.

Bitty rested his chin on his hands and made heart eyes in the hot guy’s direction again, and Kent finally gave up and sighed as loudly as he could get away with in public. “Come on,” he said, sounding only slightly whinier than he’d intended. “Is this guy really that hot? You’ve been staring at him for ten minutes.”

He began to turn, but Bitty darted his hands out and grabbed the collar of Kent’s shirt to keep him from doing it. “I swear to god, Kent. Do not look at him right now. It’d be so obvious that we’re staring.”

Kent threw his hands in the air. “Alright, alright! I’m not looking, okay? You can describe him to me.” He stared in front of himself instead, at the turquoise accent wall and exposed brick and generic cactus-themed decor. “See, not looking, so paint me a damn picture. But make it a sexy picture, at least.”

Bitty leveled Kent with a stare. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but he did take another good look over Kent’s shoulder. “He’s got gorgeous blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass. Honestly, he looks familiar. I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

“What kind of familiar?”

“Like, B-list reality TV star famous. Or maybe some kind of modeling? He has the bone structure for it. He’s easily the hottest person here, other than us, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Kent repeated. “And he’s seriously been alone this whole time?”

“Yes! The waitress has checked up on him, like, five times. Poor thing,” Bitty said, frowning. “Someone definitely stood him up. We should go see if he wants to come sit with us to take his mind off of it.”

“Are you kidding me? I bet he got stood up because he’s an asshole.”

“Kent.”

“What if he’s a serial killer?” Kent said, then sat up straighter and poked at Bitty’s forearm. “Even worse-- what if he’s the kind of guy who golfs on weekends?”

“Oh, shush. You’ve been such a grump today,” Bitty said, which, ouch, but true. Maybe Kent wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought, which was possibly something that he should talk to his therapist about. “We’re going to do something nice and we’re going to feel good about it.”

Feel good. A Freudian slip, or maybe a complete coincidence, but it was enough for Kent to jump to a conclusion that he felt pretty good about. He grinned.

“You just want us to have a threesome with him, don’t you?”

They stared each other down for a few moments. Bitty had a decent poker face, but Kent had known him for long enough to recognize the faint pink blush on his cheeks as a dead giveaway that he was right.

Finally, Bitty gave in. “Okay, fine, I think we should invite him home with us. But once you see him, you’re gonna agree with me. He’s exactly your type.” And before Kent could speak, he added, “Your other type, sweetheart. Not like me at all.”

“Big guy?”

“Mm,” Bitty hummed, gazing over Kent’s shoulder and nodding, chin resting in his hands again. “Thighs for days. Dark hair, very mysterious. Could definitely play a vampire in a movie, but like, a vampire who works out.”

“Fuck, okay. Invite him over,” Kent said, just as their waitress passed by again. While Bitty stood and headed out of Kent’s view, Kent waved her over so she could get him another margarita. She brought the drink out immediately. Kent was just lifting it up to his mouth for a sip when Bitty returned, smiling and bouncing on his toes as he sat back down across the table from Kent.

And then next to him, because Kent Parson’s life was a nightmare or at least a mildly uncomfortable stress dream, Jack Zimmermann sat down, looking stunningly handsome but also sheepish and shy right up to the moment when he met Kent’s eyes. Immediately, Jack’s annoyingly perfect face collapsed into a frown, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost.

At least, that’s what Kent felt like, because here was the same Jack Zimmermann who Kent had been moping about all day, after seeing on Facebook that morning that he’d moved back to town after more than five years away. Kent hadn’t seen him in person for nearly as long, since the last time he’d made a pitiful attempt to win Jack back at the Zimmermann family holiday party was just a month before he’d met Bitty. This was that Jack Zimmermann, back in his life without any warning.

It was all Kent could do not to spit out his entire mouthful of tequila and sugar, and the only reason he didn’t was because his shirt was white and he didn’t feel like spending his evening trying to remove a pink stain from it, but God, he wanted the drama of it.

Bitty dove right into introductions, seemingly unaware of Kent’s hopefully well-disguised mental and emotional crisis. “Jack, hon, this is my boyfriend, Kent. Kent, this is Jack. He just moved in across the street from here.”

Kent swallowed. His drink felt like it had gone stale in his mouth. “We’ve met,” he said, dry.

“Oh, really?” Bitty asked, looking up at Jack again, narrowing his eyes.

Jack didn’t say anything at all. Instead, while he sat there slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Kent had to explain what was going on. “This is Jack Zimmermann,” Kent said, trying to use his eyes to convey his sheer panic to Bitty. “I played hockey with him in high school,” he said, because that was easier than saying that Jack was the one who broke his heart, and anyway, Bitty knew the entire story and would be able to infer.

Bitty continued to force a smile. “Goodness! Well, I really walked right into that one, huh? No wonder you looked so familiar,” he said, patting Jack’s arm in a way that Kent knew was meant to be both comforting, but actually made Jack look like he was about to implode.

“Eugh,” Jack started, helpful as ever, and something about his rich tenor made Kent’s blood feel warm. It was also possible that the tequila had just hit. “I can go. I don’t want to, um, upset anyone. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to! We’d still be glad to have you join us,” Bitty said. “I know that Kent has so much he’d love to talk to you about, and I’m sure it’s the same on your end of things!”

“Bits,” Kent hissed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been betrayed this badly. Bitty was definitely sleeping on the couch tonight, but he couldn’t say that right now, because that would probably look bad in front of Jack.

Kent didn’t want that, probably. In fact, he wasn’t at all sure what exactly he did want from Jack now, at this point in his life, at age 25 and happy with his boyfriend, job, cat, apartment, and basically every other aspect of life that showed that he had proudly moved on from Jack Zimmermann.

And yet Kent couldn’t help but let his mind drift to how happy he was that he hadn’t had time to change after work, because he looked pretty damn good in his slacks and button-down. He wasn’t wearing a hat, but he had spent a very long time in front of the restroom mirror touching up his hair after his lunch break, so he felt pretty confident that it looked good right now. Comparatively, this was a much better way of running into Jack than, say, running into him during a late-night grocery run when Kent was wearing ratty sweatpants and a shirt with a picture of his cat on it.

Kent thought he looked okay. And he did want Jack to know that he was okay.

Jack was still frowning, and the worry lines in his forehead and around his eyes were deeper than they used to be. His eyes were also, somehow, so much more blue than Kent remembered, as if time had somehow erased their intensity. After a moment, Jack cleared his throat, stilted and awkward, and said the one thing that could convince Kent to give this a shot: “I’ve missed you.”

It was too much.

“Yup,” Kent said, standing up fast enough to knock into the table and jostle it, loudly shifting the plates and glasses and fake cactus on top of it. “I gotta hit the bathroom. Bitty?”

Bitty stood, much more graceful, and slid out of the booth. “It seems like I also have to use the restroom. Stay here and we’ll be right back,” he said, and something in his tone was commanding enough that Jack obediently remained seated and didn’t argue.

Kent pushed through the main room of the restaurant and back to the hallway where the restrooms were located and closed the door once he and Bitty were both in the one-stall men’s bathroom. He took stock of the situation: shockingly he wasn’t having a panic attack, but he was still feeling thrown off and almost dazed.

“I think I’m in shock. Could I literally be in medical shock right now? Am I crying?” he said to his own reflection in the mirror, eyes wet and hair wild. His hair had cowlicks, it seemed, remained tamed. Over his shoulder, he could see mirror-Bitty facepalm, then move closer so he could pat Kent’s shoulder.

“Kent, honey,” Bitty started, then paused as Kent leaned over the sink and splashed water in his face, hoping to refresh himself. “I love you, but you really have zero common sense. You’re getting your shirt all wet.”

“Good!” Kent said. “Does it look like I’m crying? Because I’m totally not crying.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been crying because you’ve basically trained yourself not to cry properly, which is absolutely not healthy, but I’m not going to lecture you about it right now,” Bitty said. “But even if you were, it’d be fine! I’m sure he’s freaking out just as much as you are right now!”

“Is this a pep talk, or are you trying to make me feel guilty?” Kent asked. “Because I don’t feel guilty. He ignored me for years, Bits. It never meant anything to him.”

“Kenny.” Bitty grabbed Kent by the shoulders. Kent could feel them flex and press into his shirt as Bitty raised up slightly onto his toes. It was a habit he’d developed from years of trying to close their three-inch height difference, and the familiarity of it lulled Kent’s pulse to a more reasonable pace. “You’ve been wanting closure with him for as long as I’ve known you. I know he broke your heart. But you’re both adults now and I think you’re finally mature enough to talk about it, so why don’t we give it a try?”

Kent leaned forward until Bitty understood what he wanted and wrapped his arms around him in a proper hug. He sighed. “Yeah, okay. Even though I hate it when you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Bitty said, giving Kent’s back one final pat and then gently pushing him back out of the restroom and into the main floor of the restaurant.

For the first time, Jack smiled. “Did you spill a glass of water on your shirt?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kent said. “What really matters is that my boyfriend thinks you’re hot. Can you buy him a drink and also explain why the fuck you’re back in town?”

“Oh,” Jack started, then faltered. “I guess, I-- well. I got a new job.” He took a deep breath, then turned to Bitty. “Sorry, what would you like to drink?”

“Just a regular margarita, thank you,” Bitty said, sliding into the booth next to Jack. “So, Mr. Zimmermann. Please tell us all about this new job of yours.”

And so Jack did. Kent was quiet during their first round of drinks, listening and watching and learning about this new, older Jack Zimmermann. He was still reserved and still a little bit slow on the uptake when it came to the jokes and slang that Kent and Bitty easily tossed around, but he also cracked a few jokes of his own, which was something he never used to do when they were teenagers. He was more relaxed, too: although Kent spent several minutes watching Jack’s hands, he didn’t see them shake at all.

Their conversation flowed easily enough that two hours passed without Kent noticing. He only realized that it was close to ten-- closing time-- that their waitress had started to hover around the table, pacing at the edge of Kent’s line of vision. At ten, she shuffled up to the table, but didn’t say anything yet. The girl was young, probably in high school, and Kent felt bad for her. He’d hated waiting tables, too, back when he’d done it in college. He looked at Bitty, then at the waitress, trying to subtly let him know that it was time to go.

Bitty nodded, and then, under the table, kicked Kent. It was all Kent could do to keep from yelping, but he somehow managed it and shot a glare in Bitty’s direction, thankful that Jack was oblivious and rambling happily about his photography. Bitty kicked Kent again. Clearly, it was up to him to decide how they were going to end the night.

“Alright,” Kent said, before his leg had to sustain any more damage. He waved the waitress closer and motioned for the check. “How about we move this to our place? You can meet my cat, Zimms.”

Jack looked up. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he said, accepting the check and sliding his card into the holder before either of them could stop him. It was a convenient way for him to avoid eye contact.  “I don’t know if you want anything like that, and if you want to just ignore me so we go back to pretending each other doesn’t exist, I could get over that too.”

“But,” Bitty prompted, kicking Kent again.

“But I’d like it if you’d come home with us,” Kent said, finally looking up from where he’d been fidgeting with his debit card.

It was dim in the restaurant this late at night, the colorful string lights and candles doing little against the dark outside, but Jack’s eyes were shining. He nodded, thoughtful. “This was nice. I’d like that too.”

“Thank God,” Bitty said. “Okay, let’s get out of here. I’m dying to get out of my work clothes,” he said, giving Jack a wink that made him choke on his last sip of the single pint of beer he’d been nursing all night.

As they left the restaurant, Jack and Kent walked on either side of Bitty, who looked as pleased as the cat who’d gotten the cream. “Told you we’d feel good about this,” he said, knocking his hips against Kent’s own and smiling, and that’s when Kent realized what should have occurred to him the moment that Bitty invited Jack over to their table.

That little shit knew who Jack was all along.

“Oh, man,” he said, throwing his arm around Bitty’s shoulder. He nuzzled his nose against Bitty’s ear before blowing in it and laughing when Bitty squealed. “You’re lucky I love you.”

[planetsam]

*offers virtual pie* What about sick Michael with Alex taking care of him? Maybe being at the prison exposed him to alien germs he's actually vulnerable to. Or he barely survives bring Max back. Or he just ends up sick from exhaustion from everything that's gone on and won't admit he needs help until he passes out. Maybe Maria calls Alex because she knows that's who Michael needs even if that's not who he entirely wants at the moment.

Michael blames himself for Max dying.

He left too soon, he was selfish, he was angry and willed this to happen. He immediately takes to guarding Max in the pod himself, ignoring everyone and everything except people bringing him meals. For the first few weeks, the only time any of them see him is bathed in the eerie purple pink glow of the pod. Honestly it makes them all look like they’re on deaths door. He refuses to hear of leaving Max, even when someone else says they will watch him. Alex wants to stay away but Maria says that if she can stomach being around someone who was willing to use her to forget his own pain, then he can damn well do the same. So he joins the food rotation and the basic supplies while Isobel, Liz and Kyle research how they can possibly do this. Even Rosa helps which is mind boggling to say the least. Michael does the theory work from the cave, his back against the pod.

Which is how Alex finds him, tapping his pen against the paper and staring at something before he scribbles something else. Michael gets lost in his work and it’s completely adorable. Even when he looks frustrated. The frustration morphs into something worse and he drops the pen, leaning over himself. In the shadows he looks even worse than he does in the sickly light. It’s cool in the cave but when he leans his head back, Alex can see a shine of sweat on his forehead. Michael blots his forehead with the back of his sleeve and pulls the jacket he’s got on closer. Alex knows Michael has a complicated relationship with being sick. He was never the type of kid who wanted to be sent home or faked sick. Now it’s hard to imagine anyone taking care of him when his first instinct is to push away.

“Hi,” Alex says, “I have food for you.”

“Thanks,” Michael says, setting aside his pen and paper.

Carefully he pushes himself up and takes a second before reaching for the backpack. Alex is ready to save face but Michael’s eyes widen and in a moment, they both realize Michael’s about to go down. Forwards or sideways means the rocks. Backwards risks the pod. Alex knows which way will win. He drops the backpack and barely manages to get his arms around Michael as his legs buckle. It’s so surprising, so wrong, that even Michael looks stunned. When Alex adjusts him, he realizes how heavy Michael is. Taking advantage of his momentarily dazed look, Alex tugs his collar. Michael must be wearing every piece of clothing in an effort to get warm. Alex presses his hand to Michael’s forehead and finds he’s burning up. Even as he burns up though, he shivers. His forehead presses into the back of Alex’s hand like he’s chasing his warmth. Or coolness. Or something. Alex doesn’t know what. He cares only as much as he cares about Michael getting relief.

“Come on,” He says, getting Michael’s arm around his shoulder.

“No,” Michael protests.

“Yes, Michael, you need to trust me,” Alex says. Michael looks at him warily, “five minutes, that’s all I’m asking. Please.”

Michael jerks his head and they stumble away from the cave. Alex doesn’t look at him until they are out in the sun, then he carefully gets him to the ground. Michael looks horrible out here. His perpetually sun tan skin is sickly pale except for the red that’s high on his cheeks. Dark circles are under his eyes but patches of dry and irritated skin line his eyelids. Immediately he closes his eyes against the sun like it hurts him. Alex locates the pink hoodie that sends a wave of nostalgia through him somewhere near the outer layers and tugs it up over his head to give him some relief. Michael opens his eyes just enough and Michael can see how miserable and red they are.

“Can you tell me what hurts?”

“E’rything,” Michael says and the lack of denial shows how miserable he truly feels.

“Okay,” Alex says, “I’m gonna call Liz and Kyle.”

Michael winces and curls away from the entrance. Alex frowns and calls them, leaving messages. He doesn’t expect them to answer their phones. Making sure Michael won’t tip over or anything, he ducks back in and grabs the backpack of food. Michael’s notebook is laying there. The page that it’s open to doesn’t have anything about Max though. It’s a careful catalogue of Michael’s own symptoms. He’s dated when they start, how they’re progressing. He’s theorized several things, ranked them and only one is crossed out. Alex looks up at the pod with Max sleeping in it. Or resting, he’s not sure what to call it. If the thing making him sick is some kind of defense the pod has—Alex imagines that’s it. They both know it, both from Michael’s wish for it not to be true and the fact that the universe is absolutely that cruel. He comes back out to see Michael curled in a ball against the side of the cave. Digging in the bag he pulls out a bottle of water and some electrolyte powder. Mixing the two, he rouses Michael.

“Here,” He says, “take a few sips,” Michael stares at him blearily, “come on.”

“You were there when my mom died,” he says.

Alex adds delirium to the symptoms. He lifts the bottle to the bottom of Michael’s lips and coaxes some of the liquid down his throat. Baby sips, it’s just much harder without a straw. Settling the bottle aside, he tries to take the first few layers off Michael, but Michael grips the sides of his coat with a sound that’s too close to a whimper for Alex’s heart. Alex grew up with a monster but he grew up with his basic needs met. Michael claims he’s going to leave this planet but Alex knows he squirrels away everything. Scraps of paper, leftovers, clothes—he knows that pink shirt is from high school. He wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a suit somewhere hidden among the layers. This much heat cannot be good for him though. Alex moves his hands up to Michael’s face. He rubs his cheekbones with his thumbs until Michael’s eyes slit and he looks up at him.

“Alex?” He says, still confused. He blows out a short breath, “what happened?”

“It’s okay,” Alex says, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible, “let’s get some of these layers off,” Michael looks upset, “I’m going to put them right here,” he says.

“M’cold,” Michael says.

“I know,” Alex tells him, “we’re going to warm you up.”

Michael honest to god pouts and something warm bubbles through him. Pouty Michael is among his favorite, mostly because he never gets to see it. Pouty Michael also means that he’s gotten through at least a little delirium, that Michael knows nothing huge is at stake. He doesn’t do his usual fight. He knows it’s not about survival. Alex can’t help brushing the back of Michael’s cheek with his knuckles. It doesn’t have to be survival for him, but Alex can see the sweat starting to bead along his hairline. He eases the first few layers off him, piling them where Michael can see them. Bending down, he takes off Michael’s boots. They aren’t the ones he usually wears and Alex can see the multiple socks and pants he has on. He gets the first few layers of those off as well. Everything Michael wears is soft and worn with age and use. There’s something intrinsically Michael about the various clothes as he folds them into a pile Michael can easily see. He doesn’t like how Michael immediately curls back into himself. Finally Kyle and Liz arrive.

“Hey, Guerin, we’re taking the Cowboy Hobo thing a little far huh?” He says quickly taking his pulse, “how long has he been like this?”

“He’s been getting worse,” Alex says, holding out the notebook.

Kyle glances over it and then holds it out to Liz. While they bend their heads together, Alex focuses on Michael. He’s folded into himself again, cradling his now good hand to his chest. It seems like he’s trying to burrow into himself for warmth. Alex coaxes him into taking a few more sips of the gatorade which Michael does, but doesn’t look pleased about it. The two scientists finally have reached a consensus and Liz bends down, looking at Michael.

“Let’s get him away from the pod.”

“No,” MIchael says blearily, “Max needs me.”

“Max is dead,” Liz says firmly. Everyone stares at how bluntly she says it, “and you won’t be able to help him if you are too.”

“But—“

“I’ll stay,” she says, “the effects seem to be worse on you. I’ll watch him,” she raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, “or do you not trust me with him?”

Michael is feeling just slightly better. Better enough to roll his eyes, though he immediately slams them shut and breathes hard through his nose. Alex has never hated his leg more or lack of than when it’s Kyle who bends down and gets Michael to his feet. But Kyle is aware of the situation or the look must show on Alex’s face because he immediately lifts Michael’s arm. Alex slides under it, pulling Michael’s weight over his shoulder. Michael’s head hangs and he looks like he might be sick. Alex wraps his other arm around him, letting him rest his head on his own shoulder. Kyle grabs their stuff and look at Liz who nods at him and steps into the cave. Alex leads them to his car. Kyle throws their stuff in the backseat and helps him get Michael into the passengers side. He eases it back and Michael twists on his side, making sure his hood is high up. Alex feels a wave of affection towards the other man and closes the door to find Kyle in full doctor mode.

“He needs fluids, maybe a lukewarm bath to take the edge off his temperature. Call me if anything changes,” he says. Alex nods, “you know when babies get their first shots they scream like it’s the worst thing to ever happen to them. That’s because it is,” he says, “has Guerin ever been sick before?”

“Not that I know of,” he says.

“Good luck,” Kyle says, “call me if you need backup.”

“I don’t need backup,” Alex scoffs.

Kyle’s smug look will haunt him.

Michael is a terrible sick person. Alex always thought he was bad with feeling under the weather but Michael puts him and anyone he’s ever met to shame. The second he’s far enough away from the pod, he starts to recover until he hits some kind of wall. Then he gets pissed off. Michael’s life depends on him being able to take care of himself and his sudden inability to is a personal offense. Alex understands but Alex also wants to kill him. Being powerless is something Alex has never done terribly well and any attempt to help has been met with complete rejection if not outright anger. The only good thing about not seeing Michael for so long when he got hurt was that Michael missed the early days of his recovery. When he lashed out at everyone and everything that tried to help him. Alex is ashamed of his behavior back then but he’s got a new appreciation for just how much of a dick he was. He doesn’t compare the loss of a limb to Michael’s first time being sick, suffering is suffering in his opinion. But his patience starts to wear thin as Michael gets more and more frustrated.

“No,” he says, folding his arms.

“What do you mean, no,” Alex repeats, “Kyle said—“

“Kyle said,” Michael imitates in a high voice, “why don’t you go make Kyle drink that stuff,” Alex frowns, “yeah, go take care of him,” MIchael says, seizing the thread, “I’m sure he needs you. I got on fine without you for the past few years. You’re too late for me to need you now.”

The low blow surprises him. He reminds himself that Michael is sick, possibly for the first time in his life. And that Michael pathologically uses sarcasm and anything else he can to shut down conversations he doesn’t want to have. The problem is that defense rarely works on Alex, in no small part because Alex rarely sticks around. He shuts it down on a physical level and from the way that Michael folds his arms and looks at his blanket covered legs, that is what he’s expecting to happen. Alex comes over anyway and sets the glass down. He would hold it out to him but he doesn’t put it past Michael to use his powers. The last thing this already tense situation needs is Michael’s guilt. Once the glass is down, Alex sits on the edge of the bed and looks at Michael. MIchael refuses to meet his eyes and Alex is painfully reminded of the fact that Michael didn’t have anyone to teach him not to be an asshole when he was sick. It’s probably too late to learn that lesson now.

“You have to stay hydrated.”

“I’m an alien, I don’t have to do anything,” Michael snaps.

“You’re a sick alien,” Alex corrects.

“Tell your dad so he can cut me up then,” Michael shoots back, “like he did with my mom.”

He meets Alex’s gaze full of defiance and anger. He’s trying to push him out, Alex has the sense to realize. He’s trying to hurt him before he can get hurt. Alex thinks he probably deserves it, it’s payback for all the times he did nothing wrong and Alex still walked away. But Alex meant what he said, he’s done walking away. He also said he was done not saying what he wanted to, but he puts a pin in that. He’s not going to call a scared, surly Michael the list of names he’s got going on in his head. Instead he picks up the glass and holds it out to him.

“If your mom was here, she’d be on my side,” he says. Michael stares up at him, open mouthed, “and she would tell you to drink because your doctor said to stay hydrated,” he wiggles the glass in front of Michael’s face, “you want a different flavor?”

“Shut up,” Michael says half heartedly, taking the glass and drinking sulkily, “they all taste bad.”

“You could have water if you drank more,” Alex says.

“Drinking hurts,” Michael snaps, “swallowing hurts. And you won’t let me have acetone so no. I don’t want to drink more.”

“Then gatorade it is,” Alex says.

Michael drinks the other part of the glass and sets it down, glaring at Alex the entire time. Alex has had worse from him. Michael holds his gaze for another minute and then drops back onto the pillows, folding his arms over his chest. Alex has the realization that he’s in love with a toddler. A giant, hairy, macho cowboy swaggering toddler who thinks that pouting is going to get him through his first ever sickness. Alex can’t believe how recently he thought Michael’s pout was adorable. He can see Michael struggling to stay awake and waits until his eyes are starting to close to pick up the glass and go to the kitchen to refill it. He adds a few ice cubes and comes back. Michael is snoring and even though Alex is thinking of multiple ways to never have him speak again, even he can admit it’s slightly adorable. Slightly. Alex still thinks he’s a terrible sick person though. In the very back of his head, he also sincerely hopes that maybe Michael won’t snore like that every night.

He leaves soon, feeling better but obviously embarrassed and Alex joins the food rotation and the pod sitting rotation, though babysitting Michael’s massive naked brother in his egg pod is not exactly something he enjoys. Mostly because he spends a lot of the time thinking about if their places had been switched and Michael was the one in there. Michael goes back to avoiding him and sulking and working in the lab. And eventually taking care of the world’s worst patient somehow catches up with him because Alex gets sick. He lets Liz know and she tells him to feel better with a dozen emojis as he hunts down the leftover gatorade. Michael isn’t the only one whose life depends on being able to take care of themselves. He swears he’ll call Kyle later but before later arrives there’s a knock at the door. Alex is not a saint when he’s sick himself, but he’s still smarting from some of the things Michael said so he resolves to at least be civil to Kyle.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as Michael stands there carrying a bag of gatorade and a bag of canned soup.

“Paying you back,” he says, practically bouncing on his feet with either adrenaline or nerves, “can I come in?”

Alex shrugs and nods, stepping aside as Michael goes to the kitchen. He knows his way around. Alex doesn’t think anything of going back to the bedroom and dozing off. The more he sleeps, the faster he can get better. And the faster he doesn’t have to feel like crap. He’s just managed to fall asleep past the tickle in his throat when there’s a poke at his shoulder. Alex takes back all of his reservations. He’s going to kill him. When he doesn’t move, the poke comes again. Finally realizing ignoring him isn’t going to work, Alex opens his eyes to see a putridly bright glass of gatorade in front of him complete with a crazy straw that winds itself in the shape of a ufo. Alex knows that they sell that straw at the museum he worked at as a teenager. He’s sold those straws. He glares up at Michael through the opening in the straw. Michael beams. Alex sincerely wishes he wasn’t quite as in love with him as he is.

“Kyle says to stay hydrated.”

Follow up here

[thosedamnsmoshkids]

GHOST HUNTERS AU HEADCANONS

A series of headcanons to create an overarching universe for the Ghost Hunters. because legit i couldn't think of a fic. Everything's the same, except for Smosh started as a channel devoted to everything supernatural and mysterious. Ian and Anthony created it to discuss supernatural happenings. It later extended, and instead of just being a weekly a talk show hosted by Ian and Anthony, it branched out into Supernatural Investigation Channel, (Smoshernatural), run by the Games crew, and much later a True Crime channel, (Smosh True Crime), run by the quintessential Smosh squad. After Anthony left the company, Ian moved to work behind the scene. He frequently guest stars, but not as much as he used to. Smosh True Crime The True Crime gang consists of the Smosh Squad, but in a somewhat detective form. They write and produce episode independently of one another, and most people recognize the styles of each member. The channel has three different running shows, Conspiracy!, which is conspiracy theory show written, directed and hosted by Noah; The Lab, a show about crime scene investigation/clean up and such; as well as a Q&A show hosted by a rotating cast called Visiting Hours. There is a running event every April Fool’s where the channel releases a fake True Crime case that parodies their own style, and is focused on a joke made from one of their videos throughout the year. Some of these have been videos have been, Shayne’s gruesome murder following the destruction of Damien’s golden cat, (which in this instance was a cat totem that Damien keeps on his desk on the Smoshernatural version of ‘Visiting Hours’); a Video on the cryptid CFM, or the strange creature known as Courtney Freaking Miller; and a video on the ‘disappearance of Anthony’, which aired on the April Fool’s after he left the channel. Smoshernatural It was originally hosted by Ian, Anthony, Joven, Lasercorn, Sohinki and Mari, and they would go around to different locations investigating, and bonded as a group. After some time, it was whittled down to the group of four (Joven, Lasercorn, Sohinki and Mari), with the addition of Wes, who is their fearless cameraman who became popular within the fandom for literally never freaking out, no matter what creepy location they’re in. Boze and Damien ran their own channel that focused on the spiritual side of the supernatural. Their channel was bought by Smosh, and the two were added to the cast, which created a new element that the show had never had before. Damien’s a medium, and there have been several bits based around Boze making fun of him for it. Boze herself works with a more summoning aspect, and works with portals and ouija boards. The channel has three shows as well, with Smoshernatural being their main pull and focus. It follows the gang to different locations to look for evidence, and it usually ends with one of them trying to get themselves possessed. Cryptid Cases is hosted by Mari and Joven, and focuses in on all things alien, cryptid, and basically anything that’s not ghost oriented, (the set is often crashed by Lasercorn wearing a tinfoil hat). The final show is a slight copy of Visiting Hours, and acts as a Q&A for the Smoshernatural channel. Coroner’s Report is hosted mainly by Damien, but it almost always has guests. Miscellaneous Headcanons - Boze has called the ghosts ‘little bitches’ more than 40 times, her record in a single episode is 13. - Lasercorn is a member of the ‘Tin Foil Hat Club’, and in all of the alien Cryptid cases, he wears his green morph suit, a pair of alien sunglasses and a tinfoil hat that grows throughout the course of the episode. - The True Crime Squad and the Smoshernatural crew have switched channels once, and had each of the Smoshernatural kids produce a True Crime episode, while they sent the True Crime squad to Waverly Sanitorium, a place even Sohinki said creeped him out, for an investigation. Needless to say, those videos have scored highly among fans, though the squad has said that they would never do it again. - Sohinki holds the record for the most times asking to be possessed, which was used as the basis for an April Fool’s episode. - Despite the fact that Damien is a medium, Joven has actually had the most experience with ghosts. The house he grew up is, by his claims, is very haunted. He, and Damien, have confirmed that there are five ghosts that live on the property, which is a farmhouse that was owned by his great-grandparents. The ghosts in the house consist of a ghost cat, a ghost dog, both of Joven’s grandparent who passed in the house, and a soldier believed to have been buried on the property. Joven has claimed to have seen apparitions of all of these, most notably the soldier, who walks the grounds during storms, banging on the front door and back doors to try to get people to let him in. They have done an episode on the house, but only managed to get some sketchy audio recordings, though both Damien and Boze believe that there are presences in the house. - Wes is the fearless cameraman, and is one of the only people on the Smosh team, besides Noah, who doesn’t believe in ghosts. He says that he ‘got close’ to believing while they were at the Sallie House a few years back, but he blames it on the nervous energy that was in the air, and that fact that he was sick. - Shayne and Damien are best friends, and met on the set of a True Crime special that tried to solve old cases by talking to the dead. They remained friends afterwards, and Damien and Shayne were both featured on the other’s respective channel before Damien was hired by Smosh. - Courtney holds the current record for the most viewed video on the True Crime channel. She re-enacted the murder of a young starlet in a film noir style, compete with a grizzled narrator, and stunning visuals in black and white. Courtney was praised for her use of the color red, which accented the blood, the woman’s lipstick, her dress, the red of a stop sign, and a car. The whole endeavor took her three months. - Keith is known for his artistic, jagged style, and most of his videos are completely animated. He focuses on the deaths of artists, which is exemplified by the kinds of visuals and music he uses. His art style is well known, and has improved during the years he’s worked for the company. His first video, which was his first time animating, is now used as a meme in the fandom. - Though Mari believes in ghosts, cryptids are her real passion. She started Cryptid Cases, and is the main host, appearing in all of the videos, unlike Joven, who is switched out for other Smosh members who better suit the episode content, (aliens for Lasercorn, angels and light beings for Damien, the devil and demons for Boze). There is a running joke that Mari is secretly a shape shifting cryptid, due to several strange photos that the cast has taken over the years that don’t quite look like them, and in reality it’s actually Mari slowly learning their form to take their place. She has yet to deny this fact. - Unlike most of the cast, Noah is very into conspiracy theories, and follows the stories of the dark web very closely. He created his show, Conspiracy! to shine a light on some of these topics, and had released a few before his show was put on semi-hiatus. Noah has said that he created enough to take it off hiatus for the next few months, but that some of them could’ve gotten him in trouble because of where he got his information. He has brought on guests for a few episodes, but they’re mostly just Shayne, who also shares an interest in conspiracy theories. - Joven has had a ghost hit on him, twice. - One of the oldest and most beloved jokes of the fandom and the cast is the theory that Olivia might be an immortal. The joke started when a twitter user tweeted at Olivia with a photograph of her great-grandmother that looked strangely like her. Olivia replied with a very vague tweet that prompted the entirety of the fandom to start going through a deep dive, and actually found several other photos that looked like they could’ve been of Olivia. It has been referenced in several videos, but Olivia has said nothing helpful to her case when the topic comes up. - Sohinki is known for his love of mothman, and he has confirmed that he owns a mothman body pillow as well as several mothman t-shirts and at least one replica of the silver mothman statue. - Boze once had her phone go haywire after using an ouija board to curse someone through her phone. - Wes, in an episode of Coroner’s Report, has said that the scaredest he’s ever been was when they were filming an episode at a haunted cabin in Wisconsin, and that he believes there were eyes watching him in the woods. and that's kinda it so far. hopefully i'll add to this, and feel free to add some stuff yourself, or use it for a fic, i'd cry happy, happy tears. Housekeeping & General Announcements Crime Does Pay Chapter 11 will hopefully be up tommorow, Finals have been kicking my ASS. After this chapter, there's a possiblity there might be a slight week long hiatus while i work on the new project introduced below For those of you who saw, I was writing like a college/paranormal au thingy, and the first chapter of that is done, and there's a chance that it'll be uploaded if i can get the energy to edit it. and boy oh boy, we got damien the unwilling psychic, goth girl olivia, and really everything you want in a mystery thriller. The Five Part Serial, The Ghosts of Mayweather, Begins Tonight

[jinterlude]

And So I Did...

↳ header is made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to the image used.

» Pairing: Choi Junhong x Reader (female OC)

» Genre(s): High School!AU, Friends turned Lovers Trope, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, & Slight-Angst

» Warning(s): low self-esteem // tiny hints of bullying // swearing

» Words: 4.6K

» Summary: You and Junhong. Two peas in a pod. You always have his back. He’ll always have yours. However, there has to be something going on between the two of you. After all, you know that saying, “a guy and a girl can’t be just friends”. Well, sorry to burst the bubble, but that’s all you two are. Just friends. Right? 

To think it all starts with a simple phrase,

           “Is this seat taken?”

Then, it evolves into a long-term friendship that no one expects. Two complete opposites have form a bond that nothing and no one dares break. You, this little meek girl, with your signature black thick rimmed glasses and hair in a high ponytail always believes that you are destined to be single for the rest of your life. Comparing to the other girls in your school, you consider yourself to be a negative fifteen while the others are in the hundreds. But a certain someone begs to differ. While you don’t know it, the person firmly believes that you’re incredibly breathtaking. Better than every single girl at school. You have this natural beauty that radiates warmth and happiness. You aren’t fake when it comes to your words and actions. You don’t sugar coat your feelings when you finally choose to lay it all out there. You’re just…you…and that’s why your best friend has fallen so hard in love with you to the point that he has to do something.

But what?

You have been friends since middle school that trying to get out of the good old “friend-zone” is quite impossible. Basically a challenge. However, that doesn’t stop him from trying. He always loves a challenge and never backs down from one.

It’s the start of a new school week, you, as always, have your nose buried in between the pages of your favorite book—Pride and Prejudice. God, you’re just enamored with the way Jane Austen words the obvious romantic tensions between two people. Both who come from different social backgrounds and allow said differences to cloud their judgments, preventing them from confessing their undying love for one another. What a great love story.

Turning the page, your eyes scan word after word, inching closer to your favorite scene throughout the entire book. The scene where Mr. Darcy first proposes to Miss Elizabeth. You’re absolutely captivated how – while he essentially insults her at first – he ends up telling how much he loves her and that he wants to marry her.

You wonder what you’d do if you’re in that type of situation. Ha. Like that’ll ever happen.

You flip the page as you internally squeal in delight. Alas…you’ve reached your favorite scene.

         "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." You mumble, shaking your head slightly as if you’re offended for Elizabeth. You continue on your little adventure, taking in each word and rooting for the fact that she doesn’t accepts his “beautiful” proposal.

           “Seriously…who would accept his proposal?” You think out loud to yourself, chuckling softly.

           “Well…apparently she does at the end of the novel,” You hear an all too familiar voice point out followed by the sound of a chair scraping against the tiled floors. The annoying squeak echoes throughout the library. You aren’t facing the check out desk, but you know that the library is giving you and your best friend, Choi Junhong, a dirty look.

A smile forms on your face as you lower your book and place your bookmark in between the pages. You close the book and place it aside.

You raise your brow, leaning against your chair, as you ask him what’s he doing in the library.

Junhong mimics your actions but has an interesting smirk painting his lips.

           “What? I need a reason to hang out with my best friend in the library?” He asks, turning his head away.

           “When it’s you? Yes. I would like a reason as to why you want to hang out with little old me when there’s a thousand of other girls who’d love your company.”

           “I wish you stopped doing that.”

           “Doing what?”

           “Comparing yourself to irrelevant pebbles whenever I’m with you.”

You stifle your laughter, “pebbles?” You question with an amused gleam in your eyes.

           “Beside the point! I don’t want to hang out with anyone but you.” He says, close to spilling his hidden adoration for you.

           “Okay. Okay. No need to be all extra.” You tell him, holding your hands up in surrender.

Junhong smiles in victory, uttering a quick, “good”, before the two of you begin talking about everything and anything that comes to mind. You guys do have time to kill before the first bell rings. You guys talk about the latest episode of your shared favorite show. Then, it eventually becomes a heated battle over which “ship” is better. You’re on team “Ray x Nora” while Junhong’s stupidly on team “Constantine x Nora” which by the way makes no sense. You even go into great lengths to letting your idiotic best friend know that.

Rolling his eyes, Junhong too pulls out evidence on why Nora is meant to be with John Constantine. You, on the other hand, refutes his claims, citing that she only saves the Legend’s resident magic dictionary because she wants to prove that she’s good.

           “Oh, come on shorty! It’s painfully obvious that Nora is slowly falling in love with Constantine!” shouts Junhong, though, careful to make sure that the librarian doesn’t shush you guys.

You gawk, “Excuse me, you stupid string bean, but she only does it for Ray. If it wasn’t for him, then she wouldn’t have gone aboard the Legend’s ship!”

Junhong purses his lips; his eyes narrow on you. Secretly, he’s only arguing with you because not only amuses him, but he personally loves seeing passionately arguing about something. That’s one trait he absolutely loves. Well, he loves second. The first is how loyal and caring you are. He honestly can’t remember a time when you aren’t there for him whenever he desperately needs you the most. Then, a goofy smile graces his face as your argument fades into the background while he recalls the moment, he has fallen in love with you…

It’s been raining nonstop. The winds have been harsh. Branches falling from the trees every five seconds. It doesn’t help that the rain has become heavy after each boom that followed each lightning strike.

He doesn’t even know where this stupid storm came from. One moment it’s quite beautiful. The sun is shining. The skies are this breathtaking blue with gigantic white puffs of clouds that moved with the Earth’s rotation. Well…it moves because of the winds, but that’s beside the point. It goes from a nice spring day to a dramatic scene from a romantic-drama movie.

Trying his hard to get out of the harsh conditions, Junhong uses his skateboard as cover. Though, it’s essentially pointless as he’s drenched from head to toe. He looks as if he just jumped into the community pool with his clothes and shoes on. That’s how soaked he currently is.

           “Fuck…” He curses, unaware of what time it is or even where he is. He can pull out his phone but with the current weather conditions, he’ll unintentionally destroy it and will have to revert back to his prehistoric, flip phone.

Releasing this long, defeated sigh, Junhong squints his eyes, surveying his surroundings. He says a silent prayer, hoping that someone – anyone – would come to his aid.

His head hangs low as he feels close to giving up. Maybe he’s doomed to catch pneumonia and then more than likely die from it.

           “Jell-O?” His ears perk up. He recognizes your voice. Your oh-so-melodious voice. Wait a minute. What are you doing out in this stormy weather? He quickly whips around; drops of water flinging away from his locks of hair.

His eyes widen. He practically beams at the sight of you.

           “Short cake!” He shouts, running up to you, taking coverage under your umbrella.

You smile warmly, holding your sturdy umbrella higher, so it shields the two of you.

           “Why the Hell are you out in this awful weather?”

           “I could ask you the same thing, Y/N? Why are you out here?”

           “Well…I noticed a familiar face standing outside my house, and he looked quite frankly miserable and lost.”

Junhong makes a face, mumbling something along the lines of, “I wasn’t lost…”

You shoot him a knowing look, finding it a bit amusing that your best friend of two years refuses to admit when he’s in trouble. That boy. What will you do with him?

           “I don’t know…love me forever and perhaps get me some dry clothes to wear?” Your body flinches. Your eyes trail up, meeting his puppy like stare. A faint blush penetrates your cheeks. Not because you have a crush on him but because of how close he is. Yeah. It’s only because he’s extremely close to you. And that’s it. Nothing more.

So why’s your heart racing like you just ran a marathon?

Choosing to ignore your rather confusing feelings, you guide Junhong into your house, shouting to your parents that he’s hanging out until the storm subsides enough for him to go home. You lead him upstairs, down a hallway, and stopping in front of your older brother’s room. You instruct Junhong to wait outside while you raid your brother’s closet. The joys of him attending a college out-of-state. You have free reign over his room.

Minutes later, you come out with a pair of black sweats and a plain white t-shirt. You hand the clothes over to your drenched guy friend and direct him to the bathroom. You then tell him to meet you in your bedroom once he’s done.

His intrigued gaze almost burns a hole on the back of your head as his eyes can’t help but trail downward. His stare becomes fixated with the way your hips move. How incredibly sexy you look sauntering away from him.

The hormonal teenage boy releases a long, heavy sigh as he musters every single unsexy thought. He thinks about how his friend Daehyun looks funny when he stuffs his face. How his cheeks puff out whenever he takes a big bite out of his hamburger. Like how your cheeks bubble whenever you fight against your better judgment when it comes to facing the queen bee of your school. Wait…that’s not what he’s supposed to be thinking about.

           “Come on, Junhong…think about something else…” He chants repeatedly. His fingers graze over the soft fabric of both the sweatpants and shirt. “There we go. Focus on the softness of her brother’s clothes. How smooth it feels against your callused fingers. Like how Y/N’s delicate skin felt against your hands when she accidentally toppled over you while trying to ride your skateboard…Oh, God damn it!” Once again, he fails. Maybe his friends are right. He has a crush on you and while he can’t have said feelings in fear that your friendship will sever once you find out, he can’t help it. He’s the victim of the wonderful cliché of “falling in love with your best friend”.

Fuck. His. Life.

Sighing in defeat, he finally heads to the bathroom to get out of his uncomfortable, clingy, drenched clothes. Though, his mind drifts off to you, wondering what you’re doing. Yet he has an inkling. You’re more than likely reading one of your favorite books. Just like he always observes you doing whenever he and friends trek around your neck of the woods.

Wow. He sounds like an obsessed stalker.

Turning the page, you remain focus on what the great William Shakespeare has to say about the famous star-crossed lovers. You, yourself, are a mere stranger to love, that doesn’t stop you from reading about it. Though, your mom has wondered why you never pursue it. She can never know that you’re left traumatized after your first and last attempt. A few weeks ago, Junhong motivated you enough to confess your feelings to the school’s resident heartthrob, Kim Seokjin. Up until the verbal confession, you have left sweet, innocent love notes in his locker, dropping hints as to his secret admirer is. And on the day the two of you met face-to-face, the disappointment in his eyes will forever be a nightmare in your dreams. His cruel words piercing both your heart and soul.

           “Wow. I was honestly expecting someone hotter but obviously has a great mind because of the words written on those notes. But then I get this ugly, plain looking girl. Man…why do I always attract the wall-flower types?”

Since that day, you have grown to fear love for yourself. You want others to experience it or witness it, but you will never experience it yourself. You refuse to have your heartbroken again.

Feeling a tear cascade down your cheek, you quickly wipe it away, not wanting Junhong to see you cry pathetically over someone. Someone who’s not worthy of them.

You take a moment to compose yourself before turning the page. Good thing that you did because you hear his voice cite the famous line,

“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Y/N is the sun.”

You quickly cover your mouth – even though the book’s already covering your face – stifling the laughter that erupts from your chest.  Though, it only fuels him to continue—especially after seeing your hand covering your mouth.

“See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!”

Not wanting to hear him butcher “Romeo & Juliet” any longer, you set your book down and reach for your pillow. Without a warning, you chuck at him, hoping that it hits him. Sadly, it doesn’t. Curse his fast reflexes.

Junhong grabs the pillow and makes his way towards you, smiling brightly.

“O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head

As is a winged messenger of heaven…” He says softly. His gaze piercing your own.

You can swear that your heart has skipped a beat. What is this boy doing to you? Lately, he’s been shamelessly flirting with you. It’s quite odd to be honest.

           “Okay, Romeo. What do you want?”

           “You, my precious Juliet. Tis you that is making me spout nonsense. My heart is sure to burst if I do not find a cure soon.”

You perk a brow up, “And what cure is that I pray you tell me?”

           “Accompany me to the ball of the homecoming.”

           “Junhong, you know I can’t do that.”

           “Oh…we’re dropping our Shakespeare speak? Dang it, I was hoping to keep it going.” Junhong crawls his lengthy self over to you, leaning against the wall. “But why won’t you go to the dance? Is it because of He who-shall-not-be-named?” questions he as he looks at you with utter concern.

Your eyes become wet forcing you to muster a quick smile and crack a joke about not wanting to dance with Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, Junhong doesn’t buy it. He knows you better than you know yourself. He’s been your companion long enough to know all your signals. When you’re furious with something or someone. When you’re about to laugh uncontrollably. Even when you’re about to cry. You either force a smile and jokingly say something or your lips quiver and your eyes look away. Then, it’s followed by unnecessary tears. He deems them unnecessary because no one shall have the luxury of knowing that you’re shedding tears over them. No. He wants you to hold your head up high and show those assholes that you’re an unbothered queen.

And…it just breaks his heart knowing that he can’t prevent them swift enough.

Without a second thought, he wraps a warm around you and forces you close. Your tear streaked cheek presses against his broad chest. Then, you begin to sob. Just that one friendly gesture is enough for you to break down, releasing the pent-up sadness and frustrations.

           “Y/N…” He begins softly. The corners of his mouth turn up. “You, my amazing friend, need to stop releasing tears for men who are too dumb to realize what they are missing.” He says sincerely, gently using his thumb to wipe away your tears. He observes your silence and then places his index finger underneath your damp chin. He tilts your head towards him. Your gazes bore right into each other’s.

           “I’m serious. I’m not telling you this because I’m your friend. I’m spouting these things because I want you to realize your worth as a person. Specifically, how beautiful you are.” He confesses with a full-blown blush invading his cheeks.

Your stubbornness refuses to give in. A short scoff escapes your lips in response. He’s obviously blind. You’re not beautiful nor will you ever be. You’ve seen the type of girls he flirts with. You’re nothing in comparison. And you have no shame in letting him know that.

Then, out of nowhere, he grabs your face. His hands cupping your cheeks. His forehead practically presses against yours.

           “Will you please stop that?! You have no idea how much it hurts me to hear you put yourself down like that? And for what? Because of some stupid ass prick who doesn’t even know what he’s missing? You are worth of being loved. You are worth every compliment that myself or the rest of our friends have given you. Please…Why can’t you believe that I’m being sincere…genuine…when I tell how gorgeous you are?”

You remain quiet. Your bottom lip almost disappearing as you nibble on it. You don’t want to cry again after you’ve stopped a few seconds ago.

How did you get so lucky to have someone so dedicated to you?

How did you get the honor of having Junhong as your best friend?

You will never know…

After what seems like forever, you remove his hands from your face. Then, a warm yet soft smile graces your face.

           “Thanks, Jell-O. I needed to hear that.”

           “Anytime short cake. I’ll forever be at your service to slap you with the harsh truth.”

Ever since he had the opportunity of seeing your vulnerable side, his admiration has grown tenfold. Since that day, he has made a vow to make sure you never shed a tear again. You’re always caring and loyal to him, so why not return the favor?

Question is…how? How can he return the favor? Then, as if it’s a sign from Gods of Romance, he hears a few giggly girls gossip about who’s taking them to the upcoming dance.

           “Bingo.” He thinks before tuning in back to the conversation, “Say, shorty. You don’t have a date to the dance, right?” He inquires.

You look at him oddly, “No. Why?”

           “Good. You and I are going.”

           “Wouldn’t it be weird to take your friend to a love theme dance?”

He bitterly thinks, “Crush but alright…” before responding that he has seen others take their friends all the time. It’s not that big of a deal.

You hum in response, thinking about his explanation. He has a point. Shit. Even your brother has taken his lady friend to a dance, so it’s not weird. Though, granted, he wound up dating her afterwards, but that’s beside the point.

           “Okay fine. I’ll be your date to the dance, but if something goes horribly wrong, I am punching you in the dick and never speaking to you again.”

           “Fair enough.”

In a blink of an eye, it’s the night of the dance. You, wearing a pastel blue short dress, currently wait for Junhong by the main entrance. You clutch your satin white wrap around your bare shoulders, hoping that it’ll keep you chattering your teeth any longer.

You glance in both directions, smiling politely at your fellow classmates. Airy chuckles leave your lips here and there as you find it quite hilarious that you’re being acknowledged by the people who have ridiculed you. You even got a few compliments by former crushes. Your lips curve upwards as you amusingly think about what will happen if you break out your signature glasses. Will these assholes act the same?

           “Looking for someone?” You hear someone ask. And speaking of asshole. You focus your attention towards his direction. Yup. There he stands. Kim Seokjin.

           “I’m actually waiting for someone. Thank you, though.” You kindly reply, smiling sweetly, masking the underlying hatred you feel towards him.

Seokjin simply smiles. That smug smile he always wear. Why did you ever have a crush on him? God. A moment of stupidity. He suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulders.

           “Well, how about I keep you warm until he comes?”

           “Or how about you let go of me since you, and I quote, ‘do not like plain, wall-flower looking types of girls’?”

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen. A look of utter dread wash over him as he scans your body up and down. No way. This can’t be the nerd he rejected a two years ago?

Damn…you clean up nicely…

           “Well, that’s before I knew you could look quite breathtaking.”

           “Sorry. I don’t take empty compliments from arrogant pricks like you.”

Seokjin becomes taken back. Not because he’s called a prick since he’s been called worse but by the fact that you suddenly have a backbone.

Kind of hot actually.

           “Come on. Don’t be like that. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

That’s it. He’s slowly severing the last string that holds your sanity. Just as you open your mouth, someone else beats you to it.

           “Or, how about I punch you right in your fucking smug face if you don’t release my date?”

Choi fucking Junhong. That best friend of yours always has wonderful timing.

Seokjin stares him down. His jaw tightens. Then, he backs suddenly backs off.

He utters a quick, “Whatever…” before disappearing inside the decorated gymnasium. He isn’t about to be jumped by Junhong’s older friends.

Junhong, on the other hand, is blissfully unaware that his friends were right behind him before going inside themselves. He smiles in victory. This sense of pride surges throughout his veins. He honestly feels that he can do anything.

Maybe he should…

Before his confidence evaporates into thin air and taking advantage of the fact that the entire body are currently inside the lively gym, he decides it’s time to confess to you. Until tonight, he has been rehearsing with both his friends and mom on what to say. You deserve the perfect confession, so he has revised his speech until it’s deemed worthy.

Now, all what’s left to do is execute it. He just hopes he doesn’t mess it up.

           “Y/N, before we go inside, can I tell you something?”

           “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Damn your warm smile. Why do you have to smile at him like that? Now, his mind is muddled mess and all the rehearsing he has done has gone to waste.

           “Okay. Okay. Just say what’s in your heart.” He chants mentally, calming his frenzied nerves. He takes a deep breath, releasing it nice and slow. Then, he takes your hands, taking note of how frozen they must be. He lifts them up to his lips and breathes warm air on them. He then rubs them in between his hands, creating friction in hopes to transfer his body heat to you.

           “Warm?”

You nod, thanking him for warming up your almost frost-bitten hands. In which, Junhong argues that it’s not cold enough outside for you to experience frost-bite, so your response is invalid.

           “And you call me a nerd?”

           “Well, you are a nerd, but you’re my nerd.”

His comment catches you off guard. You feel a warm sensation creep on you slowly.

           “Very funny. Okay. Let’s go inside. I want to see your awesome dance moves.” You tell him, pivoting your body away from his. And just as you take a step towards the gym, you feel a pair of arms around your shoulders. Then, something heavy on your shoulder.

           “J-Junhong…what are you doing?”

           “Throwing four days’ worth of rehearsals and winging it.”

           “Come again?”

           “You know the saying that you should date someone who’s like your best friend?”

You nod as forming a coherent sentence is impossible right now. The only thing your mind can focus on is your racing heart and sporadic breathing.

Junhong smiles, pressing his cheek against yours, “Well, I thought to myself…why date someone who’s like your best friend when I can just date my best friend?” He says, turning you around so now that your chests touch one another. His face tilting towards you. Adoration glows in his eyes. But why’s he looking at you like how your dad stares at your mom?

Oh…OH!

           “You have a crush on me?!” You shriek. Your eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. Your mouth falling open.

Junhong laughs at your cute reaction.

           “Yes, shorty. I, Choi Junhong, am head over in heels in love with my best friend.”

           “You love me?!”

           “Well, you don’t have to shout it like that…”

           “But. But. But.”

           “Yes, I do have a cute butt. And, as my girlfriend, you have daily access to it.”

You shake your head firmly, refusing his confession with every fiber of your being. Not because you don’t return his feelings. Oh, how you do, but your lingering fears are besting you right now.

You fake a convincing smile, but Junhong knows better. How long have you guys been friends now? Almost five years. You need to try harder.

           “What’s so bad about being my girlfriend? Don’t tell me you like that arrogant twat!”

           “Are you kidding me? He didn’t like me when I was a mess, so what makes you think he deserves me at my best?”

Junhong grins and chuckles, “Okay good because for a second there, I was worried.”

Now, it’s your turn to chuckle.

           “Don’t worry, string bean. You never have to worry about me crushing on other guys when I’ll forever keep comparing them to you.” You accidentally confess. Realizing what has come out of your mouth, the color drains from your face. You quickly cover your face, berating yourself for revealing one of your most hidden secrets.

Junhong beams, loving this newly found information.

           “So…you compare potential boyfriends to me?”

           “Oh, don’t act like you haven’t done that with potential girlfriends.”

           “Never denied that I didn’t, princess.”

You can’t help but groan, questioning him what exactly is going on between the two of you.

Junhong shrugs, “Well, I’m trying to convince you that we should be more than best friends, but you’re being quite stubborn.”

You gawk, “I am not being stubborn!”

           “Yes, you are, woman!”

           “If I am, then would I say, ‘yes, I would love to be your girlfriend?’!”

Junhong smirks and says, “Finally”, before cupping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss.

To say that you’re currently experiencing fireworks will be quite the understatement. You honestly feel more than that.

You just feel happy.

The two of you pull away, though, your foreheads remain touching. Goofy grins appear on your faces as you guys simply enjoy the moment. Who needs to be sandwiched by a bunch of sweaty people?

           “Do you want to skip the dance?”

           “You’ve read my mind.”

           “Well, we have been friends since middle school, so it’s only natural that I’m your personal mind reader.”

           “And you’ve ruined it…”

            “Also, part of my job description.”

You and Junhong bicker back and forth until he captures your lips once more. He pours every ounce of love he has developed for you over the years. He’ll never grow tire of your sweet lips.

           “Thank you for agreeing to be my girlfriend.”

           “Well, you did say why should I date someone who’s like my best friend when I can simply date you.”

           “That I did. That I did."

A/N: I am ashamed that I haven’t released anything new for my soulmate ;-; how dare I not give this man all my love and attention? I am a disgrace! But in all seriousness, in honor of B.A.P celebrating their seventh anniversary of debuting, I thought...why not write a one shot about my no.1 ultimate bias, Choi Junhong! Can’t wait to celebrate more years with you and the rest of B.A.P! #FOREVERWI7HBAP

Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/a message in my inbox! I love hearing your thoughts! :)

- Kim

[the-comfy-wildkratt]

[AO3]

~Infinity - Chapter 4: Prototype~

The Creature Power Suits are just prototypes. Advanced prototypes, but nonetheless, they are still highly experimental and potentially dangerous pieces of equipment. As such, Aviva started out very careful and very paranoid.

The first time the Kratt brothers use the suits, absolutely everything is being monitored. They’re strapped to heart monitors and electrodes and Koki is off to the side running a constant scan with a datapad (also experimental but not nearly as potentially life-threatening).

It’s very simple, in Aviva’s mind, and compared to what they’ll be able to turn into late, just a domestic dog program (Aviva chose a Labrador). The brothers are still over the moon and it takes every ounce of self control they have to not go sprinting around the room, yelling and barking with excitement. They stand, quivering, as Aviva and Koki rapidly collect data and start asking questions, and Martin’s tail is wagging so hard that his whole body is wiggling. Chris is a little more thoughtful, and he only wags his tail once before looking a little startled and awed and holding it still.

Aviva asks them to do several simple tasks, things that they wouldn’t be able to do with normal human bodies, such as rotate their ears and lay them flat, and move their tails around on their own. Without being asked, Martin relates that he can’t see in color, but he can smell much better than normal.

After only five minutes, Aviva has them deactivate. So far she doesn’t know if the neural strain will be too much for the bodies and minds to handle, so it’s better to play it safe.

Later, Chris complains of a bit of a lingering headache, and Martin’s tailbone is sore, so Aviva writes that down. But everything has gone smoothly, it seems.

As the team gets to know each other and make plans for trips and start their highly experimental observation and conservation adventure, they run more and more tests on the suits, still being as careful as possible. By now Martin and Chris are champing at the bit, eager to take them out into the field, but Aviva still isn’t sure.

By this point she’s made dozens upon dozens of tweaks, adjusting the neural load and the basic programming. The brothers have been in the suits for up to an hour, and have put the suits through their paces as much as possible while still within the Tortuga, running, climbing, and making as much of a ruckus as possible. But Aviva hasn’t given them anything that makes them smaller than a medium sized dog, or bigger than a lion (which was a power they were absolutely ecstatic over). She hasn’t given them anything that will go to extremes, such as a giraffe’s long neck, either.

Aviva doesn’t know what the lasting effects of wearing the suit will be, if it will have long-term effects at all now that she’s worked out most of the major kinks, so she remains cautious. She knows that there are things she hasn’t even thought to test before they go out in the field, and the thought of her sensitive, highly experimental tech being broken, or worse, hurting someone, is almost too much to bear.

One day they don’t have the time to wait for tests.

They’ve been in the African grasslands, somewhere closer to the jungle, observing several rival prides of lions and the ecosystem around them, which has been tampered with by poachers a lot recently. The Kratt brothers are very cautious when they go out, most of the time right at dawn when the air is coolest.

Today is like any other, Koki running daily diagnostics and checks on the Tortuga, Jimmy doing a little light programming, and Aviva hard at work in the garage, grease stained to the elbows as she tinkers with a new idea for hovering bike. Chris and Martin have been gone for hours, but have checked in twice so that the crew knows they’re okay.

All of a sudden Aviva can hear an explosion of chatter from upstairs, closely followed by feet pounding up ramp. It’s unnerving, so Aviva hurries up to check on things. To her horror, she sees Chris yanking the green Creature Power Suit over his head, sweaty hair disheveled as he snatches the gloves out of the wall case and then jerks open the door to the blue suit’s case.

“What are you doing?” Aviva screeches, sprinting across the room.

He whips around and the look on his face is enough to make her choke on her next words. Wordlessly he grabs the blue Creature Power Suit, tucks it under one arm, and streaks out of the room, back down the ramp and into the hot savanna sun.

Koki is frantically throwing medical supplies into a bag as she pulls up a contact list on her datapad, and Jimmy catches Aviva up. She hears “poacher” and “gunshot” and “Martin still there” and dread coils in her stomach.

She’s grateful that the brothers left the ‘Createrra’ in the garage today, as her and the rest of the crew pile in and floor it after Chris, who has already vanished into the grass. She catches a glimpse of him at one point, in an activated lion power suit, his emerald fur gleaming in the sun.

They have to slow to make it around a hazardous section of terrain and the last she sees of Chris for a while is his tufted tail whipping away around the bend in a gully.

By the time Aviva, Koki, and Jimmy arrive on scene, there are no lions left except the Kratt brothers. She has no idea what just happened, but Chris is on the ground and Martin is sitting under a scrubby tree, gasping for breath with a gun broken in two beside him. Two men are perched precariously on thorny branches, obviously being held at bay by the blue-coated lion under their refuge.

Before the crew can so much as get out of the vehicle, Martin points at Chris. “See him,” he gasps out, pinkish froth bubbling at the corners of his mouth, “I’ve got these two.”

Koki has already called authorities so the crew just hurries over to where Chris is curled up on his side. Jimmy squawks at the sight of blood scattered on the grass when they get closer, and Chris cracks open one eye and gives a half smile. “Not mine,” he whispers.

Aviva knew it. She knew that they shouldn’t take the suits out in the field yet. They weren’t ready. This was one of the things she hadn’t thought to check on.

There are claw marks on Chris’s back, long gouges in the suit but none on the main chest piece, and one emotionless part of Aviva thinks good, the hardware isn’t badly damaged. But Chris is stiff with pain, his eyes pinched shut and face drenched with sweat. There’s no blood, because the wounds aren’t deep enough to have completely punctured the suit.

But Aviva hadn’t programmed around pain sensations. She’d been tweaking the senses but somehow never thought to touch this. Chris and Martin had gone careening around in the suits before and slammed into furniture and walls, but laughed and brushed it off, not even bruised, so Aviva hadn’t even thought about it. The suit connected to the nervous system, she should have realized that it would be a problem.

Shaking herself out of angry thoughts of failure, Aviva tries to reach the deactivation button, but Chris’s arms are clutched tightly to his chest. “You have to move your arms,” she tells him and he swallows hard but nods.

He moves his left arm very slowly and stiffly and Aviva checks to confirm that one of the gouges goes up and across his shoulder. The button is exposed now and she presses it home quickly, then frowns when nothing happens.

“Jammed,” Chris mutters.

Quickly Aviva looks for the emergency panel she’s installed on the back of the suit, and she swears under her breath as she realizes that one of the gouges has damaged it; there’s a possibility that it shorted out the main button to begin with.

She goes back to the chest button, whips a multitool out of her pocket, and digs at the little catch until the whole thing pops open. The power disc falls out of its slot but Aviva ignores it and looks further until she finds the little panel she needs. She picks away at it for several long seconds, during which she becomes aware of Chris holding his breath so as not to interrupt her work.

Finally she succeeds and the suit returns to its deactivated state with a glow of green light. Chris goes limp with a huge exhale of relief, only to wince stiffen up again with a hiss.

Frowning, Koki rests a hand on his sweaty hair. “What’s wrong, the suit’s deactivated now.”

“Phantom pain,” Chris moans, but then slowly props himself up onto one elbow, breathing hard. “I didn’t think it was an issue till now.”

Aviva gets locked into another fearful thought, and without any warning she reaches around Chris and undoes the suit, then yanks both his shirt and pullover up to his neck. He protests, but Aviva’s soft swear stops him.

There are shallow welts where the claw marks had gouged his suit, red and swollen.

“This isn’t anything I could’ve predicted,” Aviva mutters. She lets the shirt drop and sits back on her heels. “I’m so sorry Chris. I should’ve--”

He cuts her off with touch on her arm. “You didn’t know. And I was too reckless, I know.”

Aviva and Jimmy hurry to check on Martin, leaving Koki to take care of Chris. Martin is much the same as Chris, sitting stiff and sweating, his eyes slightly glazed. He holds up a hand.

“Don’t deactivate me yet,” he pants, “I’ve got to keep these guys pinned ‘till the authorities get here.”

“But the pain will ease once we turn it off.”

One of the poachers shifts on his perch and without warning, Martin whips around with his lips pulled back in a snarl; his canines are long and sharp and at the moment he looks like he could easily rip a man limb from limb without blinking. The poacher freezes, and Aviva and Jimmy can see the whites of his eyes as he darts a terrified look at his companion, who is equally stiff with fear.

When they stay still, Martin turns back around and sinks back to his haunches, his eyebrows scrunched together so tightly that they almost meet in the middle of his forehead. “I have to hold them at bay,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “just take care of Chris.”

“Koki’s got it covered.”

“Good.”

It takes the authorities over an hour to reach them; they’re far out in the brush of course. Martin’s face is drenched with sweat, mouth open as he pants to help regulate his temperature, and Aviva makes a mental note to adjust the heating and cooling systems in the suits. Chris has somehow dropped into a doze, his head pillowed on Koki’s knees. Jimmy is nervously planning a stress-cooking binge, listing ingredients under his breath and running through the Tortuga’s supplies in his head. Aviva stays by Martin, ready to deactivate him the instant the authorities arrive.

They do, in the form of two jeeps’ worth of men, well-armed and serious. Koki directed them to the poachers and as soon as they climb down from the tree and are handcuffed, Martin punches the button on his suit. His isn’t jammed and he slumps with relief once it’s back to normal.

The authorities take statements from all the crew, including Chris, who is awake and finally on his feet, albeit a bit stiff.

Aviva finally hears the story; the brothers were observing the pride when poachers had approached, and Chris immediately ran back to the Tortuga, knowing that things could get ugly.The poachers had shot a lioness and Martin had run to try to stop it, and in the ensuing scuffle, three men had fallen out of their truck, while the rest made their getaway. Between poachers and lions, Martin just went up a scrubby tree, and so did the poachers, but as Chris returned, the male lion had returned to his pride and started to climb up after them.

Unable to sit back and watch the men get slaughtered, Chris had rushed forward to distract the male lion. Martin joined in once he was able, and they fought for a bit before realizing that they were hopelessly overpowered by the male lion and turned tail to run. Seeing that, the pride had moved off, taking their injured lioness with them. One of the poachers escaped the second they were gone, but Martin and Chris came back in time to pin the other two in the tree again. At that point, Chris was in too much pain to keep going and just lay down where he could while Martin sat down to keep the men at bay, knowing that a two on two fistfight wouldn’t be ideal and thus keeping his suit activated.

Once the statements have been gathered, the authorities thank the crew and cart off the poachers. Exhausted, the Wild Kratts crew climb into the Createrra and drive home to the Tortuga, quiet. Jimmy drives, and Aviva is in the back with Koki and Chris, who is once more stretched out with his eyes closed, head in Koki’s lap. In the passenger seat up front, Martin is also resting, leaning back as far as possible with his eyes shut.

They get home to the Tortuga and after the girls help Chris and Martin to the showers and leave fresh clothes out for them, Aviva immediately takes the suits back upstairs and tosses them onto her desk, ready for the repair work and reprogramming she’ll have to do. Jimmy is already in the kitchen, dishes rattling as he cooks to calm himself down after the eventful afternoon.

Soon everyone is done cleaning up and showering, and they silently, collectively agree to gather in the common room with comfortable cushions and blankets. Jimmy’s stress cooking has produced spaghetti in a rich vegetarian cream sauce, with fresh baked bread in the oven and brownies already cooling on the rack. Aviva turns on a Disney movie of some sort, and they try to forget about the day for a few hours.

Two weeks later Aviva catches Chris and Martin stripping out of muddy clothes in the garage and she realizes that the welts on their backs have turned discolored, almost scar-like. Martin, whose white scars claw from the middle of his back all the way down to his right hip, confesses that he and Chris didn’t tell her for fear of her banning the suits forever.

She wants to be mad, but she’s honestly more upset and sad, and she has to admit that the suits are performing much better now, and they’ve been out on one more (very closely monitored) field test. She’d hate to rip that joy away from the brothers, because she can see that they love what they’re able to do.

So she doesn’t ban the suits.

After a month, the scars are almost invisible, and only show on rare occasions, such as drastic weather shifts. The suits are working better than ever, but Aviva still stays up late often, making sure that nothing similar can ever happen again.

[tkmedia]

England's run down to Southgate, players breaking away from the past

12:10 PM ETAfter nearly a quarter-century living in England and covering the national team for much of that time, I can tell you that this run to the semifinal feels different. (In a good way, I hasten to add, though obviously that does not mean they will win Euro 2020 because, history shows, they usually do not end up with a trophy.)Make no mistake about it, some things are the same. Few countries, at least among the "bigger" nations," have the ability to go from ecstasy to dejection based on a single result, for example.Win and you will hear pundits and fans -- at least those who make the most noise -- talk about how, deep down, England can beat anyone and how everyone with Three Lions on their shirt is "world class" or, as they like to say, "thereabouts." Lose and they are inept no-hopers at best, a spoiled, ungrateful bunch of disinterested stains on the national character at worse.This is not to say media and supporters in other countries do not get carried away when they excel, or turn into angry villagers with pitchforks and torches when they underperform. They certainly do; it is just that there is not normally the 180-degree turnaround from game to game.But while that part has not changed about England, what has is a lot to do with the man leading the team, Gareth Southgate, and a little to do with the sort of players who comprise his squad. Here are five ways in which this side is different.- Euro 2020 on ESPN: Stream LIVE games, replays (U.S.) - European Soccer Pick 'Em: Compete to win $10,000 - Euro 2020 bracket and fixture schedule

1. Southgate is likeable and humble and normal

England's manager is probably more relatable than any of his seven permanent predecessors. Let's remind ourselves that the list includes a guy who lost his job after saying he believed in reincarnation and that the disabled were being punished for sins in a former life (Glenn Hoddle), a guy who quit out of the blue in a post-game interview at Wembley (Kevin Keegan), a guy who had an affair with an Football Association employee and who was duped by a man dressed as a wealthy Sheikh (Sven Goran Eriksson), a guy who quit because the FA forced him to strip his captain of the armband (Fabio Capello) and a guy who had to leave after a single game because of an undercover sting that saw him talk about "by-passing rules" to register players (Sam Allardyce).Now, there is context and another side to all of the above and none of it means the aforementioned were worse managers than Southgate; in fact, from a purely footballing perspective, most were arguably better. But it does mean that the current England boss has managed to avoid controversy and drama to a degree that others did not. Moreover, he has done it while being humble and earnest, traits that folks find appealing.

2. Southgate is not unduly influenced by the media

Whether it is playing Kieran Trippier at left-back (and not playing Ben Chilwell at all), sticking with Kalvin Phillips in midfield, making Raheem Sterling a fixture or starting Bukayo Saka against Germany, Southgate has made a series of decisions that most might describe as well outside popular wisdom. The same popular wisdom, that is, which compelled previous managers to shoehorn Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard and, occasionally, Paul Scholes into the same midfield.Nor does Southgate freak out when performances leave critics unsatisfied, like the 0-0 draw against Scotland or the second half against Czech Republic in the group stage, the latter of which saw England contrive to register 0.0 Expected Goals (which is frankly difficult to do).He has a plan, he sticks to it and he knows that, while short-term he might be judged by how well his teams play (and therefore risk a media battering), long-term he will be judged by how far they advance in tournaments (and, so far, so good).Southgate gets a basic concept that others seem to miss: Club football -- with its 38-game league season -- generally rewards teams that attack and play well, creating more than they concede. Tournament football, on the other hand, is a different animal, where risk-taking is discouraged.France won at the last World Cup by essentially sitting deep, not conceding and waiting for superstars at the other end to do something special. England have not quite gone that far -- and may not, given Philips is no Paul Pogba, Declan Rice is no N'Golo Kante, Sterling is no Antoine Griezmann and there is not a Kylian Mbappe in sight -- but the concept is not dissimilar.Gareth Southgate's approach has resulted in a squad that is at ease in tournament situations. Getty Images

3. England's players look like they want to be there

After most tournament disappointments in past years, the English media would run their inquests about what went wrong. This would be a familiar process. The coach's decisions would be criticised (always) and, usually, there would be a grand theory, sometimes involving an individual scapegoat, like David Beckham in 1998 or David Seaman in 2002 or Wayne Rooney most of the time, and sometimes noting a collective dereliction of duty.Inevitably, another of the sub-themes to come up was whether these players really wanted to wear the Three Lions and whether there were internecine rivalries that ripped the group apart. Eriksson famously remarked how players would eat and hang out with their club teammates, other managers have talked about how players felt "less protected" with England than at club level and others still noted how players felt it was a "chore," given the environment around the national team.And when things went awry, there was, punctual as ever, a story making its way into the national media. Maybe, if England get beaten by Denmark on Wednesday (3 p.m. ET, LIVE on ESPN), the cycle will be repeated.I don't think so, though, because there were none after the World Cup semifinal defeat to Croatia in 2018 and every indication is that, unlike past expeditions, there is no poison in this England camp. Credit for that goes not just to Southgate, but also to this group of players.

4. This group has the right blend of leaders and foot soldiers

2 RelatedThere is no question that, in terms of strength in depth, particularly in attacking positions, this England is as strong as any non-French speaking team in Europe. But there is also humility to the players Southgate has entrusted most over the past few weeks. There are very few alpha male, eyes-on-me, superstar types among the regulars, compared to yesteryear.Rice, Phillips and Jordan Pickford watch the Champions League on TV. The three Man City players are important to their club side without being indispensable, partly because of Pep Guardiola's strong collective ethos, partly because of the talent around them. Mason Mount is not an A-lister yet. Luke Shaw plays for Man United, but has had his share of setbacks. Harry Maguire is a natural leader, but was at Hull City until the age of 24.The one exception is Harry Kane, who has been carrying Tottenham on his back for many years, but in terms of ego and personality, he will not be mistaken for Zlatan Ibrahimovic any time soon. It is a blue-collar team for a blue-collar style of play, with plenty of talent and game-changers rotating in and out from the bench, whether it's Jadon Sancho or Phil Foden or Jack Grealish or Saka. This is not a side built around two or three individuals -- arguably, Kane apart, though even then you saw him go for long stretches with no service and he did not complain -- and that makes it different.

5. Success breeds success and confidence

This also feels different for the simple reason that many of the players know what national-team success looks like. England have reached the semifinals of major tournaments just six times, with Southgate and much of this this squad having done it twice, just like Sir Alf Ramsey and Co. in 1966 and 1968.England had gone more than 20 years without reaching the last four of a competition, before Southgate took them there in Russia. It does not mean the pressure is off, but it is not insignificant, because once a cycle begins, it is hard to slow down.Once you have experience actually achieving something meaningful, it becomes easier to do it again. This England team does not play with swagger, but the players do seem to have a quiet confidence. And that can be even more important.Southgate's England have managed to break the feedback loop of drama and disappointment. Not by necessarily playing better football or by having better players -- at least in terms of the ones who actually make it on to the pitch -- but in the way they carry themselves and the way the environment in the camp projects beyond them.It may not be entirely down to the manager. It may be the players. It may be the fans and the media who, after 18 months of pandemic, are just a little more chilled out and happy and wanting to highlight the positives.It also may or may not be enough to win the Euros, but it is a darn sight different from the past. Read the full article

[dust2dust34]

Olicity... Netflix and chill... fluffy maybe?!!! I would love you forever

(Set in early Season 6. Mature. Read on AO3. Ko-Fi.)

“Stop.”

Oliver’s hand froze over the bowl of popcorn,his eyes flying to Felicity where she’d stopped in the middle of the stairs.Confusion flitted over his face before he saw what she was wearing. A pleasedsmile tugged at his lips as his eyes darkened.

She would be all for that except he was aboutto shove his hand into a bowl of salty popcorn.

“Did you touch that yet?” Felicity asked,coming down the rest of the steps. The large t-shirt she wore swayed aroundher, letting some of the chilly loft air drift over her naked skin. Oliver wasjust as transfixed as the air was with her current state, his eyes glued to herhardening nipples where they pressed through the material. His hand stillhovered over the bowl. “Oliver.”

“Hmm?” he asked, his eyes flying to hers.

“You made popcorn.”

Oliver furrowed his brow, finally moving hishand. He looked at the bowl and then the television where the main Netflixscreen waited. “I thought we were watching a movie.”

Felicity smiled. “We are.”

He blinked, looking up at her. “And in thepast that has usually involved popcorn…”

“Well,” she said, sitting down next to him onthe couch, folding her legs underneath her. She’d already had the green throwshe kept out there laid out so she didn’t feel the cold leather on her verynaked legs. “That’s not all we’ll bedoing.”

“Is that so…” Oliver took in what she waswearing again - one of his t-shirts that he’d left behind the last time he wasover - as well as the fact that she was obviously naked underneath it. Hegrinned and the delight in his eyes was so painfully adorable that Felicityjust shook her head, smiling softly. Oliver put the bowl on the coffee tableand reached for her. “And what else will we be doing?”

Felicity answered by cupping his jaw andpressing her lips to his.

Oliver sighed, melting under her touch, hishands finding her waist. His palms were hot through the shirt and she shivered,pushing herself up onto her knees to get closer to him. Like a well-practicedballet, he shifted, tugging her against his chest as he fell back on the couch,taking her with him. Felicity crawled over him, their lips never parting, thekiss growing more heated with each passing second. Oliver slid his hands downher back and over her ass, finding the hem of the shirt. He pulled it up andpalmed her naked ass.

Oliver inhaled sharply, digging his fingersinto her ample backside. The move had her pressing into the growing bulge inhis pants and they both moaned at the sensation.

“You’re naked,” he whispered against her lips.

Felicity grinned, nodding, answering once morewith a kiss. He touched more of her, taking his fill, his arousal growing.Felicity rotated her hips, arching her back for leverage. The sounds he madewhen she pressed more of her weight against him were delicious. Heat pooledbetween her legs, her nipples hardening even more, scraping against his chest.

Ooh, she wanted more, neededmore, needed his lips all over her, his fingers sliding down…

“Wait,” she gasped, pulling back. They bothpanted, their combined breaths making the air hot and sticky and perfect for noclothes… But first… Felicity pressed her hair back behind her ear as she lookeddown at him. For a quick second she almost forgot what she was going to saybecause his skin was flush with arousal, his lips swollen, eyes glassy as hegazed up at her with so much adoration that it hurt. When his fingers ghostedover her naked ass again, one hand slipping down her hip - likely to pull herleg up to fully straddle him - she remembered what she was going to say. “Youdidn’t touch the popcorn, did you?”

He huffed out a chuckle, arching his head upto kiss her. “No.”

“Good,” Felicity said, kissing him back.“Good, because salt wouldn’t feel very good down there.”

Oliver laughed, his teeth bumping into hers,which had her grinning in return. “That would be bad.”

“Very bad,” she agreed. “So it’s good youdidn’t.”

He hummed, kissing her more fully. “So whenyou texted me earlier about Netflix and chill…?”

“I absolutely meant you’re coming over herefor sex,” she replied.

He pulled back with a quizzical frown. “Whydidn’t you just say that?”

“You’ve never heard ‘Netflix and chill’before?”

Oliver shrugged. “I assumed it meant watchingNetflix and… chilling.”

She laughed. “It could mean that… I guess.It’s basically a booty call. Big on Tinder.”

That had him pausing. “Wait, you were on Tinder?”

“For all of five seconds,” Felicity replied.“It was awful, I hated it. You didn’t try any dating apps?”

“No, I…” Oliver paused, his hand coming up tobrush his fingers over her cheek. “I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t going tofind it there.”

Felicity bit her lip, her heart somehowsimultaneously stopping and skipping a couple beats at the same time as it tookoff. She smiled, and there was a tinge of sadness to it that she didn’t mean tolet through, but he caught it anyway. Oliver smiled, too, but he shook hishead, cupping her cheek, pulling her lips back to his.

It didn’t matter, because they’d found eachother again.

Felicity suddenly chuckled.

“What?” he whispered.

“Just thinking about if we’d seen each otheron Tinder.”

“Well,” Oliver drawled, “if you’d sent mesomething about Netflix and chill, I would’ve been very confused.” She laughedas he added, “Why not just say what you want?”

“Because it’s not as skeezy, probably.” Shegrinned. “And to keep curmudgeon-y Oliver Queens away.”

“I am not curmudgeon-y.”

“You definitely can be.”

“Okay, but when people use words like‘Netflix’ and ‘chill’ in the same sentence, then yes, because that’s stupid andmisleading and…”

Her lips found his again, cutting him off.“But you’re my curmudgeon, and I love you.”

Oliver grinned, an absolutely blinding smilethat took her breath away before he kissed her again.

It quickly spiraled out of control.

He deepened the kiss, slipping his hand downto her thigh, tugging at her leg, urging her to move up and straddle him.

“Pants,” she mumbled. “Get pants off.”

Oliver nodded and Felicity pushed herself offhim, holding herself up on her hands and knees so he could quickly undo hisbuckle and jeans. It occurred to her that she’d have to actually get up so hecould remove them completely and that would just take too damn long.

She sat back on his legs more fully and helpedhim shimmy them down his hips just enough for his hardness to pop free.

Heat washed through her like it always didwhen she saw his arousal - his needfor her…

Felicity leaned over, taking him into hermouth.

“Oh,” he gasped, not expecting it. His headfell back, his eyes closing as she took as much of his length into her mouth asshe could, swirling her tongue around him. His head shot up a second later tolook at her - like he had to - andshe met his gaze. He groaned, his hands slipping over her hair as he swelledbetween her lips. “Felicity…”

She moaned and the vibration had himshuddering underneath her.

“C’mere,” he whispered, urging her up.“C’mere.”

She obliged, releasing him with a pop beforecrawling up over him again.

Oliver cupped her face and kissed her, hardand demanding, pouring his need for her into it. Felicity moaned, helplessagainst the onslaught as she reached between them to guide him to her entrance.She slipped the head of his hardness through her wetness, making Oliver chokeout a groan, before she pressed him to her opening. Oliver slid his hands downto her ass just and grabbed her ass, pushing her down, thrusting up to meet herwith so much force their lips broke apart.

Their combined gasps surrounded them as hefilled her. They instantly started moving together, Felicity swaying over him,her hair enclosing them in their own little world. Oliver cupped her breaststhrough the shirt, tweaking her nipples, drinking every little sound ofpleasure she made as he ravaged her mouth.

It wasn’t long before she felt his movementsstarting to stutter, his pleasure peaking, and she changed her angle to rubherself against him, wanting to join him. It wasn’t enough and when Felicitygasped his name, a strained plea, he reached between them and found her littlepearl. He pinched and rubbed and her cries changed as her pleasure suddenlysharpened. She pressed her forehead to his, breathing him in, rocking againsthim…

Felicity came with a loud shout, and Oliverwas close behind her, making the couch rock with the force of his thrusts intoher wet heat. He spilled into her with a groan that echoed through the loft,his fingers digging into her hard enough to leave bruises.

When she couldn’t take anymore, Felicitycollapsed against him. Oliver caught her with limps arms, wrapping her uptightly.

“Okay,” he panted against the crown of herhead. “Okay, I like Netflix and chill.”

Felicity laughed, hard enough that he slippedout of her.

It took them a few minutes, but they finallymoved, cleaning up before rearranging themselves to watch Rogue One.

They got distracted by each other three moretimes, the popcorn going untouched on the coffee table.

(It would be months before Oliver would stopsending her texts that involved ‘Netflix and chill.’)

*

I never actually write smut when I get Netflixand chills prompts. Like… ever. BecauseI’m a rebel. Lol. I had something wildly different drafted for this that,once again, did not involve smut. And it wasn’t all that fluffy. I don’t followprompts very well anymore omg. So I’m saving that AU for something else infavor of some adorable Season 6 shenanigans!

Thank you for reading (and thank you for the prompt, lovely anon)! I hope you enjoyed it! 

Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.

[avengerofyourheart]

Leave This Town Pt 5 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Surprise Avenger! :)

Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

Warnings: Fluff! Then some angst. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3k

Tags are at bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED I’M SORRY)

**This fic is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K AU Writing Challenge**

A/N: Oh man. I’ve been so excited for this part. I really hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts! Love you guys!! 

<<<Part Four   Part Five   Part Six>>> 

Leave This Town Masterlist

Full Masterlist

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(Sorry, I just had to use this gif. :D )

Previously: 

Stepping away you grasped one of his hands in yours while the other slipped the key into the lock and turned. You stepped inside but before he could cross the threshold, he stopped, causing you to look back in question.

“Y/N. Are you sure?” he asked.

You stared at him a moment, his hair mussed and pupils blown wide in lust. Mostly likely, you looked just as wrecked from only a kiss. You needed more. With a nodded, you pulled him forward and shut the door behind him. “I’m positive.”

_________________

The moment the lock slid home, his arms were around you with soft, plush lips caressing yours. Bucky’s large, calloused hands brushed down the side of your neck, then teased just under the collar of your shirt down toward your chest. As your fingers worked to unbutton his shirt, his fingers did the same with his mouth never leaving yours. 

Slowly, you both walked in tandem toward the bed until your knees hit it. The drop to the mattress was more significant than you thought, though, a squeal escaping you as you both tumbled down in a heap. Squeaky springs compressed under your combined weight and you exhaled with an oof as Bucky landed half on top of you.

Laughter bubbled up in your chest and then escaped as Bucky joined you, finding humor in your graceless intimate moment. Bucky rolled his weight off you and onto his side while you remained on your back. He held your gaze as the hilarity faded and fire burned bright once again in his eyes.

“Shall we try that again?” he asked, grazing his knuckles down the side of your face tenderly.

With a bite of your lip, you nodded, raising a hand to brush a lock of hair behind his ear. You kicked off your sandals and he did the same with his shoes. Slowly he lowered his lips to yours and resumed unbuttoning your blouse with one nimble hand. You took your time undressing each other, one article of clothing at a time until you were bare to one another. His rough fingertips brushed over your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Bucky went for his wallet, but you produced a string of foil packets from your bag first.

As two began to move as one, you knew it had never felt like this. You had never fit so perfectly with another man. He played your body like an instrument, each touch hitting just the right note. Bucky took his time as he mapped each dip and curve intimately until you began to reach your crescendo, his motions powerful and yet tender. Rising higher and higher before you both cried out and fell together, you collided into each other arms with chests heaving. Bucky held you close with a soft kiss to your forehead as you both rested a short time. It didn’t take long until you both felt that heady desire once again, resulting in an encore or two before you fell asleep in each other’s embrace, exhausted and happy.

________________

You awoke momentarily, the rhythmic sound of drumming invaded your senses. The steady sound gave you comfort, lulling you back to sleep. Some time later the calm beat increased to a staccato thundering, pulling you to consciousness. Slowly, you came to recognize the drumming sound as Bucky’s heartbeat echoing in his ribcage, your head resting on his chest. He must have awoken as memories of last night flooded in, his heart rate speeding up just as yours began to do the same at first sight of his handsome face in the morning light.

“Good morning,” he croaked with a smile.

You grinned bashfully as you stretched out sore legs, throwing an arm around his muscular torso and head resting on his shoulder. “Good morning to you, too.”

Bucky brushed fingertips against your bare back as he propped his right hand under his head. You pressed a kiss to his firm pectoral muscle before turning your face toward him. A tender look in his eye, he leaned down to kiss your lips before falling back on the pillows with a contended sigh. The comfortable silence lingered as you basked in the warmth of the body beside you.

Curiosity finally getting the better of you, you propped yourself up on one elbow as you shifted slightly onto your stomach. With his bicep inches from your face, you began to trace the silvery white lines and curve that caught your attention the day before. They were noticeable only in the right light or up close. Raising your eyebrows at him in question, you wordlessly continued to caress his scarred skin.

“It’s from a steam burn,” he explained.

“What?” you asked, eyes wide. “How?“

He took a deep breath and brushed a thumb down your cheek before speaking. “I started working at my uncle’s shop while I was still in high school. Simple stuff at first: working the counter, checking fluids, rotating tires, stuff like that. Well, one day, I popped the hood of a car and checked the oil, then I moved on to check the coolant levels. There’s no dipstick for that, so you just have to open up the reservoir and peak in. If the liquid isn’t visible, then it needs to be added. So I used my left hand to turn the knob for the radiator. Most cars these days have a failsafe where if the engine is still too hot and pent up pressure, the knob locks and you can’t turn it anymore. I thought this car was cool enough, but…”

You gasped, able to guess what happened next. “Oh, no…”

“Exactly. The car was older than I thought and it just didn’t occur to me until the cap came off, pressure was released, and the steam shot up my arm and down my left side. I don’t even remember what happened after that. They told me I was running around screaming in pain. They had to catch me and throw some cold water on me before I calmed down enough to get to the hospital,” he said with a sigh.

Brushing your fingertips across his bearded cheek, Bucky captured his large hand in yours to kiss your palm. “Were you okay?” you asked quietly.

He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Mostly. It was basically a third-degree burn but not bad enough to need skin grafts or anything. They did have to treat the burns every few days by scrubbing and wrapping the skin so scar tissue wouldn’t form. That hurt like a bastard. But I was lucky. I must have closed my eyes at the right time because that could have damaged my eyesight. My face looked like I was sunburned for about a week. Scars aren’t too bad, though, huh?” he asked, tilting his face as he flexed his bicep.

You shook your head, smiling, as you brushed your fingertips over the light scarring and pressed a kiss to the marked skin. Bucky grinned at you, grazing his knuckles across your bare arm that was draped across his chest. He tucked a finger under your chin and lifted off the pillows to kiss you. Deepening the kiss, you wove your fingers into his chestnut strands and tucked your knees under you, hovering over Bucky as his hands began to explore. Quickly, you found yourself straddling his waist and another round of lovemaking continued in earnest.

________________

Another tangle in the sheets later, you were both starving and in need of a shower. Ideally, you would have liked to “save some water” by sharing, but realistically the shower was small for even just you alone so Bucky went first and then you followed after. Exiting the bathroom wearing only a towel, you found Bucky lounging in his boxers with the tv on. You located a pair of clean underwear and then looked for something comfy to lounge around in when Bucky’s discarded shirt caught your eye.

Picking it up off the floor, you smiled at Bucky, who had been watching you. “Do you mind?”

He smirked with that fire in his eyes. “Not at all.”

Dropping the towel, you slipped the shirt on and buttoned it part way before jumping on the squeaky bed and cuddling into Bucky’s side. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your body closer as he flipped through the tv channels.

“So,” you began, brushing a hand over his bare chest, “You’re not going into work today?”

He shook his head. “I don’t work on Sundays if I don’t have to. Why? Do you want me to leave? Cause I can—“ he had begun to sit up and swing a leg off the bed when you stopped him.

“Don’t you dare!” you shouted as you wrapped both arms around his middle and tugged to keep him from leaving.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he settled back on the bed, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You just smiled. Your comfortable moment of cuddling was interrupted by your growling stomach, making you duck your head in embarrassment.

“Well, I guess we both better fuel up after burning so many calories, huh?” Bucky joked as he tickled your side.

Wiggling out of his grasp in fits of laughter, you finally calmed down and sat cross-legged on the bed. “I don’t want to go out,” you said with a whine. “Does the diner deliver?”

“Nope,” he shook his head with a frown. “But…we could call out for pizza…” he offered with a coy smile.

“Yes!” you shouted in excitement.

Bucky laughed. “Okay. How about you get some drinks from the vending machine and I’ll call in the order?”

You slipped on sandals and shorts under Bucky’s shirt, gathering all the spare change you two could find. Walking out the door and down the stairs, you located the vending machine around the corner from the office. Once the drinks had dispensed, you discovered that the cooling element in the machine was broken. Warm soda made you gag, so you walked back to the room, dropped off the drinks and grabbed the ice bucket before heading out again. Ice acquired, you were heading back to the room when a neighboring door opened to reveal Wanda wheeling a small cart of cleaning supplies.

“Wanda,” you greeted her with a smile and she whirled around in your direction.

She started to speak with that unconvincing smile of hers when suddenly her eyes grew wide, taking in what you were wearing. Bucky’s button-up shirt was drowning you, nearly covering your shorts underneath.  You pulled the neck of the shirt close around you, suddenly self-conscious. Her face reddened in fury and she stamped her foot with a slight scream before stalking away without a word.

Confused and alarmed, you finally made it back to your room and slipped inside.

“Well, she officially hates me now,” you declared, setting down the ice bucket and grabbing the complimentary cups to fill them.

“Who?” Bucky asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand.

“Wanda. I think she recognized your shirt and I’m pretty sure she still has a thing for you, Mr. Barnes,” you smirked as he walked your way.

“Is that right?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah, well, too bad for her. Cause I have a thing for you,” he said suggestively as he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in for a kiss.

You moaned against his lips, barely breaking contact to speak, “When’s the pizza coming?”

“About 30 minutes,” he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck.

“I think we can use that time wisely, don’t you?” you smirked, pushing him back toward the bed until he fell to the mattress. You climbed on the bed with a knee on each side of his hips and you were lost in each other once again.

_______________

Bucky had barely slipped on his jeans over boxers, remaining shirtless, when there was a knock on the door. He swung it open to reveal a young man about 15 or 16 with his focus on the receipt he was reading.

“Alright, I’ve got two pies for you, one with— Buck!” he exclaimed as he looked up. “Hey, man, what are you doing he….oh,” he answered his own question to see you lounging on the bed back in Bucky’s shirt. Earlier it seemed like too much clothing, but now not enough as you tugged at the hem.

“Hey, Pete. This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Peter,” he gestured from you to your new acquaintance, both of you awkwardly waving in response. “Thanks for the pizza, man. Say hi to your Aunt May for me,” Bucky said as he handed him the cash and shut the door in the gawking teenager’s face.

“You really do know everyone don’t you, ‘Buck’,” you mocked lightly, sitting up as he placed the pizza boxes on the bed.

“The joys of a small town,” he replied, settling next to you as he flipped the boxes open and the cheesy greasy smell hit your nose, making your mouth water. “Dig in!”

Once you both had your fill, you settled in to watch a movie, finally settling on an action movie with too many explosions and not enough plot. You sat against the headboard with your legs extended, Bucky had his head in your lap as you ran fingers through his thick brown hair. You’d long lost interest in the movie and a question popped into your mind.

“Hey, Bucky?” you asked and he sleepily moaned in response. “I promise this isn’t meant as criticism but I’m curious…when was the last time you cut your hair?”

He let out a deep sigh, thinking. “About…two years I guess?”

“Can I ask why? No good barber’s in town?” you joked.

Bucky smiled lightly as he rolled onto his back to look up at you. “No. It’s just…I haven’t cut it since I got out of the army,” he stated as fact, grasping your free hand in his.

“What?” you exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t know you were in the military.” Although, honestly, there was probably a lot you didn’t know about him.

“Yeah. When things were stable with my uncle at the shop, I joined up, hoping it would pay for school and offer a steady income to send home. I didn’t mind it most of the time. Learned some new skills and met some buddies I still keep in contact with. In fact, I fixed quite a few of the military vehicles, showing up the engineering guys sometimes,” he remembered with a smile. “My one pet peeve was the haircuts. Our C.O. —uh, commanding officer, he was a stickler for uniform and haircuts. Always buzz cuts. I hated it, so I rebelled in my own way and tried to grow it out. I hid it under hats and bandanas sometimes, but he’d catch it and reprimand me. It’s silly, but when your whole life is rules and orders, the little individual things matter. So when I served my time, I swore I’d grow it out. And I have,” he finished with a smile as he met your eye.

You let the silence linger a moment as you continued to play with his strands. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” he asked, surprised.

“Would you trust me to trim your hair? Just a tiny bit? It’ll grow out faster and more even. I’m good, I promise…” you trailed off with a hopefully grin.

He narrowed his eyes at you for a time, then conceding. “Okay. I trust you. But just a trim!”

“Scout’s honor,” you answered seriously.

Ten minutes later, you found yourself in the small hotel bathroom with Bucky seated in a chair. You had changed into one of your own shirts to move around in a little better. After wetting his hair, you combed through it gently and set out to trim off the split ends and even out both sides. It didn’t take long as Bucky followed you with his eyes, watching you in your element. Although cutting hair wasn’t your first love, you had to admit you were good at it.

As you were finishing up, you grasped Bucky’s chin and turned his face from side to side to check the length. His hair now fell to just above his shoulders and looked much more healthy. “Done!”

Bucky looked in the mirror, inspecting your handiwork and then replying with a smile, “Looks great, babe. Thank you.” He pecked a kiss to your lips as he pulled the hair-covered towel from his shoulders and shook it into the bathtub.

Gathering up your tools, you breached a subject that had been rolling around in your head most of the day. “So, what do you do for fun in this town?”

Bucky was helping to gather up the fallen hair on the floor and looked up at you. “Um…I don’t know. There’s the bowling alley or I’ll grab a drink at a bar. My buddies and I get together to watch football sometimes or shoot pool. It’s a pretty quiet town, though. Why?”

Keeping your back to him at the counter, you voiced your nervous thoughts. “Well…I thought maybe after work tomorrow we could do something. Bowling could be fun. I’m pretty terrible, but—“

“Wait,” he interrupted. “You want to…stay?”

You shrugged, trying to remain casual. “I mean, maybe a day or two. Thought I could complete the tourist experience and finish helping you. I made an agreement, after all.”

Bucky stood from his crouched position, dumping the hair in the garbage can. “I thought you were leaving right after your car was fixed Monday morning. You have a tight schedule to keep, right?” he asked, avoiding your gaze.

“I have a little wiggle room. I just…I really like you, Bucky. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet,” you said, finally voicing the nagging timeline that had been lingering in the back of your mind. You wanted more time. You wanted more HIM.

“Y/N…” he said with a sigh. “I like you, too, but…we have to be realistic. I thought we both knew what this was,” he spoke soberly.

Pausing at the zipper of your hair kit, you felt something break inside you. “Oh. So it’s just a quick ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’, is that it?” you said, whirling around angrily to face him. “You’ve had your weekend of fun with the out-of-towner and you don’t want her hanging around cramping your style? Well, excuse me for thinking we actually had something here, a genuine connection,” you snapped with tears in your eyes, quickly exiting the bathroom.

“That’s not what I…” he began, following you out toward the bed area. “Of course we really have something. This has all meant so much….YOU mean so much to me. I never would have thought it could happen in just a few days. But what’s gonna change in a few days more? We become more attached, making it harder to say goodbye? Or maybe two days becomes a week or a month or…I don’t know. I’m just saying, you didn’t leave one small town just to get stuck in another. You’re meant for more that this, Y/N,” he told you sincerely, lightly gripping your upper arms for emphasis.

You held his gaze, eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. “So are you,” you said quietly, voice quivering.

“What?”

“You’re meant for more than this small town, too,” you declared louder this time, grasping his face in your hands.

“I don’t underst—“

“Come with me.”

______________

Part 6>>> 

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Oh my gossshhhhhh. You guys. :D I hope you’re enjoying this. Please let me know! Your comments and screaming make me so happy. haha. I guess we’ll find out his response next week! Love you guys! Thanks for always being awesome. <3

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[myrish-lace-love]

"I can’t believe we’re actually doing this" - Jonsa

Jon was furious.

“Sansa! This is not a beginner class!”

Sansa had talked him into the “four weeks free” offer her dance studio had for salsa classes.

He’d agreed because his Wednesday nights were open, now that his LSAT class was over. He could “use the break” as his gorgeous, red-headed, completely platonic roommate kept reminding him.

Also, honestly, because the thought of being close to her made his head swim.

In the good way.

At least he thought it was the good way, until he’d stepped onto the “floating bamboo floor”, whatever that was. He heard the teacher rattle off a rapid-fire eight count and realized he was coming in at the middle of a four-week session, not the beginning.

And these people definitely knew how to dance.

The teacher was a stunner too - a lithe and striking man with muscles defined in places Jon didn’t even know existed.

Sansa nudged him. “See, the teacher’s as short as you!”

“You are not helping,” he hissed.

Read more below or on AO3

The teacher invited all of them to face the mirror, and Jon got a look at how out of place he seemed. T shirt, black jeans, sneakers with rubber soles the teacher had let slide for today. All the girls were in skirts and strappy heels and the guys were wearing dress shoes. Jon had heard some mention of “crepe soles” and knew he was in way over his head.

The teacher was joking that “as you all know, I had to learn how to dance to make up for the fact that I’m short and ugly.”

Jon got the sense it was a line he used a lot. All the girls in their skirts and high heels tittered. The guys did not.

Actually, you’re handsome as fuck, plus you can dance, asshole, Jon thought.

Sansa squeezed his hand discretely. “Stop glaring at the teacher,” she whispered.

Jon felt genuine fear when the combos started. Cross body leads with inside turns. Multiple spins into “C” dips, whatever those were. The class took it all in organically and couples started to move.

“Sansa, really, I can’t-”

“You can, Jon.”

“But I don’t how how to lead!”

“So I’ll back lead you,” she said with a shrug that made her cotton shirt drop off one shoulder.

Not helping my concentration here, Jon thought.

“What does that even mean, Sansa?”

“You get to pretend you have all the experience. You’ll look like you’re leading. But just pay attention to the tug of my hands.”

“Is this that rubber band stuff the teacher mentioned when the class started?”

“Jon.” Sansa had her Serious Face on. “Try it. Give me your hand.”

They finally found the right level of tension. They weren’t yanking each other across the room. They didn’t have what the instructor had called “noodle arms” either  - no connection at all.

“So you feel it?” Sansa looked at him shyly.

Her hands were warm and soft in his and he did feel it, that level of give that was enough for him to figure out what she was trying to get him to do.

He nodded. His mouth was dry.

“All right, when I step back you step forward. It’ll look like you’re leading me.”

The class thankfully started with a slow number and he got the basic rhythm down. He still had to count under his breath, but Sansa didn’t mind.

It might have been his first class, but it was Sansa’s second year of dancing, and she did, in fact, make him look like he knew what he was doing. So much so that some of the other girls were giving him approving glances.

She felt good, too, this close to him. Very good. He had to focus on counting to keep from getting wrapped up in how beautiful she was when she danced. She was flushed, with a few strands of hair clinging to her neck. Her blue eyes were a shade darker when she concentrated and-

“Ow! Pay attention, Jon!”

“Sorry,” he muttered. He’d managed to step on her foot but she gave him a decisive tug and soon they were into the flow of the dance again.

Sansa had told him she loved following, because it gave her a chance to let go of her “usual bossy self” and just feel the music. The guy did all the work of planning the next moves.  Jon felt bad that Sansa had to play both roles here - leading him while looking like she was following.

The teacher clapped his hands at the end of the song.

“Okay everybody rotate!”

Jon froze as people started to mill around.

“Sansa, there’s no way-”

“Let me handle it.”

The next guy came over for her, a tall, blond fellow who’d seemed adept at spinning his partners. He was ready to take Sansa’s hand.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Sansa said over her shoulder with a smile. “We’’re a dedicated couple, can you skip over us?” The guy didn’t look happy but he walked on.

Dedicated couple.

“What does that mean?” Jon asked cautiously.

Sansa shrugged. “Just that we’re a couple who goes out dancing together and we’re here to practice with each other.”

Jon wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

“Are you complaining, Jon?” Sansa looked irritated.

“No, no,” he said, though he had a dozen questions running through his head. The music began again.

Before he knew it, the class was over and everyone was swigging from their water bottles. Sansa offered him hers and he took it gratefully.

When they stepped into the hallway, Sansa greeted dancers she knew who were on their way to other classes.

There sure was a lot of hugging and kissing on the cheek in the salsa community, Jon thought.

The two of them finally made it to the lobby. Jon sat on the red velvet couch next to Sansa while she changed her shoes. She knew what crepe soled shoes were, and owned a pair.

Apparently they came with their own bag. 

Jon felt a twinge of inadequacy as she gracefully slipped on her sandals. He still had the same old sneakers on.

“Why bother Sansa?” He blurted. “Why bother with this?”

She looked up at him. She seemed genuinely hurt.

“We don’t have to come back, Jon. I just thought you might like it.” She’d slung her bag over her shoulder and looked perfectly at home in the lobby of the studio.

“I mean, why bother with me? There’s a bunch of guys in there ready to dance with you, really dance with you, they’re naturals at this.”

Sansa busied herself with the strap of her sandal. Jon tried not to notice how long her legs were.

He failed. Miserably.

“Maybe I’d rather dance with you,” she said.

“Even if you have to lead me the whole time?”

“You got better at the end,” she murmured.

He had. He’d even spun her around a few times all on his own. He’d felt inordinately proud of himself.

“But why?”

Sansa pushed strands of hair away from her forehead.

“God, you’re stubborn. Fine. Because you’re frustrating and annoying and you bug the crap out of me sometimes-”

This is not headed where I thought it would go, Jon thought.

“But…” She bit her lip. That was even more distracting than her shirt slipping off her shoulder.

“I trust you, Jon. You won’t get grabby, the way these guys sometimes can. You won’t yank me too hard. It’s tough, to find a partner who respects you. Who isn’t just out to spin you around a zillion times and leave you dizzy.”

“I’m not sure I could spin you around that many times.”

Sansa smiled at him and he saw it, then, the softness in her eyes. He’d missed it before but there it was, plain as day. His stomach did a slow flip.

“I know,” she said. “Not yet. But you could, eventually. And you wouldn’t, because you’d stop first. Which is why I trust you. Like I said.”

She was going out on a limb for him here. And he probably owed her an answer.

“I’d come back, if you wanted, Sansa. I’d try.”

“You promise not to complain about me pretending we’re a dedicated couple?”

“No. I can live with that.” More than live with it, he thought. I like it. But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. Or her.

Or them. If there was a them now?

“Jon, you’re overthinking. I can hear you from across the couch.” Sansa smirked at him.

“Hey, I’ve got an exam in a month. I’m entitled to overthink.”

Sansa hesitantly took his hand. “Can you…not overthink here? Maybe we could just dance?”

He swallowed. He wasn’t sure there was any “just” dancing with Sansa. At least not as far as he was concerned. But he wasn’t going to spoil the moment.

“Sure. Yeah. So this is every week?”

Sansa nodded. “Same time, same place. You might have to do a little catch up. It’ll be a good breather for you when you’re studying. We can take five minutes and dance in the kitchen. You know. For practice.”

Of course. Like completely platonic roommates do. “Right. Sounds like a plan.”

***

Three weeks later, he mustered up the courage to tuck her hair behind her ear, at the end of a “practice” session next to the dishwasher. As she leaned in to kiss him, he decided he was grateful, after all, to the short dance teacher with the bad jokes. Because if it weren’t for him, Sansa Stark wouldn’t be sighing into his mouth and holding onto his shoulders.

Then he forgot everything except for how soft her lips were and how he had the chance, again, to see her eyes turn that darker shade of blue. Turns out, he’d learned, the change meant she was happy, not just that she was concentrating.

And that was, by far, his favorite fact of the year.   

[theepolynesian]

Broken

Requested by @amralimedeano I apologize beforehand since I’m pretty sure this was not what you wanted. I honest to god wasn’t expecting a modern day request lol but I tried my best. Also, I’m trying something new so the GIFs can be found throughout the story. Tell me if you like it or not because it might be a little much :) 

Master Lists: Drabbles/Imagines, and Completed Series

You narrow your eyes at the door as you hear a knock. You were not expecting anyone tonight. You put your book and move to open the door. What you see makes your heart stop for a bit.

There in front of you are thirteen dwarves. Thirteen dwarves and a freaking hobbit. 

Of course you knew what dwarves and hobbits were. You read the books and saw all of the movies, but you did not expect to see them here in front of you and you did not expect them to be of normal height.

“Good evening lass. I was wondering if you could tell us where we are?” Balin asks. 

Oh how you loved the dwarf. You very bitter when you found out he died. VERY bitter.

“Earth. You’re not in middle earth, but regular earth. Its a more technologically advanced middle earth. Here why don’t you come inside?” you ask and he nods. You make way for the 13 dwarves as they come stomping into your house.

It took you a few hours, but you fully explained where they were.

“Excuse me, miss y/n. What’s this?” you hear Ori ask. 

You turn to find him holding your computer upside down. He looks like he’s about to drop it so you quickly make your way over to him. “That my dear scribe is a computer. A very expensive one,” you say as the other dwarves settle down in front of your fire place.

“What is a computer?” he asks and you sigh, trying to think of an explanation for it but you can’t. “Well, it’s almost like a book but easier I suppose. Kili don’t touch that!” you exclaim, putting the laptop down and moving over to Kili who had some how turned on the stove and was now trying to stick his finger in it. You slap it away.

“What is it miss y/n?” Kili asks. 

“A stove. It’s like a campfire, but more compact,” you say.

“Fili, get your head out of there,” you scold yet again as you see the blonde dwarf sticking his head in your microwave.

“Ms. y/n. What is this?” Dori asks and you sigh turning to look at what he’s holding. It’s your phone.

“It’s a cell phone. You can send messages and pictures to other people far away. It’s kind of like sending a raven but you don’t talk into a bird,” you explain.

You look into the fridge to look for something to make for dinner, but whatever was in there was not enough for 15 people. You sigh when you realize you need to go shopping.

“Alright. I’m going out for a bit. You lot stay here and don’t touch anything,” you announce, grabbing your keys.

“Can we come with?” Bofur asks excitedly. “What?” you ask. “Can we come with you?” Fili responds. You look around and sigh. “Alright, but only four of you can come. That’s the most I can carry,” you say, “also. Follow me upstairs. We need to change your clothing. You are not going out looking like that.”

With that, Bofur, Fili, Kili and Ori follow you upstairs. You had some extra clothes your brothers left behind and you were pretty sure they were all the same size as the dwarves.

You throw them all jeans and t-shirts and leave them to get changed. You go to your bedroom to grab your wallet and go downstairs to wait for the dwarves.

Ori comes down wearing an ugly christmas sweater and you laugh. He matches completely. Kili comes down with a Harry Potter hoodie that you did not remember giving him.

“I really liked this instead,” he says as you open your mouth. You roll your eyes as Fili comes down in a tight red dress shirt and Bofur with a white dress shirt. “Ready girls,” you ask and they nod.

“Do. Not. Touch. Anything,” you growl out and the five of you leave. You were pretty sure they were going to burn the house down.

You end up taking an hour to get your shopping done. Of course you had the most curious dwarves with you so that was the main problem. Plus there were many girls surrounding you. You basically had to beat them off with a stick.

You pull into your drive way and everything seems relatively okay, but as soon as you walk inside that changes. The television is knocked to the ground with an ax in it, the ceiling fan was missing a part, and the microwave was on the ground.

You thought that the knuckeheaded dwarves were with you. Apparently, you were wrong.

“Can someone please explain to me what happened?” you ask, handing the groceries over to Kili and Fili.

“Well this thing started talking and I thought it was someone trying to kill us,” Dwalin says, pointing to the television. 

That would explain the ax then. One of them probably sat on the remote.

“And the fan?” you ask. This time it’s Thorin who answers you. 

“Well, I hit some type of switch and it start rotating and I thought it was coming toward me so I shot it with an arrow,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

 You let out a deep sigh.

“And the microwave?” you ask pointing to the broken appliance. You look at the dwarves and they all point to Bilbo. You look at him in shock. You did not expect him to break anything. If anything he and Balin seemed like the most responsible one.

“Ah yes. It seems like I pressed a button and then it startled me when it started beeping and I seemed to have hit it off the counter?” he asks.

You close your eyes breathing in deeply. They were going to be the death of you. Granted, they seemed hella cute while doing so.