#hey at least lime is more honest! (half of the time)

[shroomcult]

Hey folks!

Here’s my Day 1 post for Soma Week 2021. Tooth-rotting fluff towards the end - please enjoy. ^-^

@soulxmakaweek

Maka awoke with an audible groan, first registering the lack of her weapon’s familiar soul wavelength in the room before anything else. Whether she was disappointed or grateful of his absence was difficult to determine in her hazy mindstate.

Soul had been fussing over her for the past day, and while his concern for her comfort was endearing - his mother hen routine got old fast. 

His over-attentive behavior was at least understandable. He had little to do cooped up in their hotel room, and ended up alternating between watching cooking shows at a considerately low volume, pacing around what little square footage they had, and laying in his bed beside hers tapping out the rhythm to whatever was blaring from his headphones. He was sure to pester her about how she was feeling at least every 20 minutes and his restlessness had been grinding on her last nerve before she fell into a fitful sleep. 

If she had to hear “you okay?” or “need anything?” one more time, she was liable to snap and throw the closest object to her directly at his dumb, fluffy head. Not that he actually deserved it.

If she were being honest with herself, she was mostly frustrated with the situation itself - not Soul.

Well, maybe she was a little frustrated with Soul. 

He may have been outwardly kind towards her in her predicament, but she could feel something else beneath the surface of that. She was well-versed in the subtle language of Soul’s facial expressions after all. 

He was dying to tease her, and while she commended him for keeping his mouth blessedly shut about the humor in her suffering - she knew it amused him at least a little bit.

Because despite the fact that they had been sent to the bustling beach-side city of Recife, Brazil to take down a particularly cunning and repulsive kishin - she was not stuck in bed over any kind of work-related injury inflicted during their battle with the corrupted beast. 

There was no glory or dignity that could be gained from the current state of her weakness. She had not received her injuries from a tense and thrilling battle, but instead from being negligent in her application of sunscreen before falling asleep splayed out on a beach towel under the unforgiving afternoon sun.

Soul had even recommended that she apply sunscreen a second time for her “hella pasty” skin and she responded to his comment in kind by throwing the sunscreen bottle at him with impressive accuracy and force.  

Now she was bedridden with what was likely sun poisoning and had a complexion comparable to a hot dog. 

Perhaps she should have taken Soul’s advice after all.

She also may have reached her last straw with Soul’s smothering behavior earlier and said something along the lines of “please get the hell out of here and give me at least an hour of peace,” before taking her rather unsatisfying nap.

That certainly explained his absence.

She let out a heavy sigh before deciding she would deal with the pain of moving so that she could re-apply aloe vera for the twentieth time that day. Only this was the first time she would be doing it without Soul’s assistance.

It was difficult to reach most areas of her back without him. She was certainly flexible enough to do it on her own, but the pain that came with stretching her arms was something she would prefer to avoid experiencing if possible.

She started on lathering her arms and chest area first, grounding herself in the way it stung yet soothed at the same time. 

She only got through a small portion of her back before the combination of fatigue, nausea, and pain convinced her to give it a rest. 

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just figure out where Soul was. She didn’t need him or anything. She was just checking in - making sure he didn’t get himself into any trouble while she was asleep.

She made an awkward hobble across the room to retrieve her phone, careful to avoid bending her scorched appendages on the way there. 

It only took a ring and a half for Soul to pick up her call, and she cursed herself for the way her entire body relaxed a little at the sound of his voice.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

He had that pleasant gravelly quality to his voice that usually indicated he either just woke up or he had a few drinks. 

“I’m fine, Soul. I just woke up, actually. What have you been up to?” she’d tried to sound casual, but the hitch in her voice when she tried to lower herself back on to the bed betrayed her. The soft cotton sheets felt like they may as well have been a brillo pad against her sensitive flesh.

“Just givin’ you space like you asked. Found a neat little place to drink just down the road from us. To be honest with you, I think it might be a swinger bar or somethin’ - everyone here is middle aged and horny as hell.”

Maka felt a twinge of irritation at that last comment. Was he really off flirting with a bunch of Brazillian cougars while she was stuck in bed?

“S’not like I’m interested, but they keep buyin’ me drinks anyway. I don’t speak very good Portuguese and they seem to think that’s pretty sexy of me,” he added with a throaty chuckle that raised goosebumps across her skin.

“Why don’t you just stay there all night then! I could care less what you do!!”

She felt a bit childish for her outburst, but blamed it on Soul’s innate ability to push every last button she has in very few words.

“If you don’t care, then why’d ya call me in the first place?” She could just tell that his lip was curling into a smirk by his voice alone. Oh, he is so lucky he’s not in book-throwing distance.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere,” she murmured with only a little bit of edge left in her. 

“Oh yeah? That all?”

“.... Also, I guess you can come back to the hotel room.”

“Sorry? Can you speak up a little?”

“I said you can come back to the hotel room! Don’t make me say it again or you can sleep on the streets!”

He responded with an amused snort, “Oh, that’s very gracious of you. What a loving and benevolent meister I have.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t fall in a ditch on your way here.”

“Love ya too, Maka. Be there in a few.”

With that the phone call cut off, and she was left staring at the ceiling and feeling an overwhelming warmth in her face.

She decided to blame that on the sunburn rather than her weapon’s comment.

It only took about 20 minutes before she heard the click of the hotel door as it swung open, her partner poking his head in first and flashing her a shark-toothed smile before he kicked the door open the rest of the way. He was carrying an entire pack of drinks under his arm and a plastic CVS bag in the other.

“Stopped by CVS round the corner. Dunno if you’ll like ‘em, but I got these weird electrolyte drinks. S’posed to help hydrate you better or something,” he said as he plopped down at the end of the bed, emptying the contents of the plastic bag.

“Also got you some ibuprofen, more aloe, and a couple snack things. I know you said you weren’t hungry, but you should really try and eat at least a little bit.”

Maka only nodded, slightly overwhelmed by how caring he was being despite her recently sour attitude. 

He tilted his head to the side for a moment, regarding her with gentle eyes before he got up and sat closer to her on the bed, being especially careful not to let his legs touch hers.

He slowly placed the back of his hand against her forehead muttering something about a fever, but she was too focused on his close proximity to her to even register what he was saying. He smelled of beer and limes and sunscreen.

His skin was a perfect bronze color, and he was showing off a lot more of it than he usually did. He was clad only in swim trunks, slider sandals, and a loose-hanging tank top that the top of his scar peeked out of.

He had been out in the sun just as long as she had, napping right beside her even, and yet his skin only tanned; never burned. The lucky bastard. 

He used the same hand he’d checked her forehead with to brush back a few stray hairs from her face. “Sleep okay?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he were worried his voice would bother her. 

“I slept okay, I guess. Not much else I can do right now anyways.”

He nodded and gave a sympathetic click of his tongue, running his hand through her hair a few times before reaching for the aloe on the nightstand.

“Need me to get your back?”

She ignored his question, opting to rub the short-cropped silver whiskers covering his jaw with her palm.

“You need to shave.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated huff, squeezing the tube of aloe into his palms and rubbing them together. 

“I’ll just take that as a yes and pretend you think I’m roguishly handsome.”

That earned him a laugh from her that clipped short when he placed his hands softly on her back. It only hurt for the first brief moment of contact, but she soon hummed her approval as the stinging sensation in her back felt dulled and soothed wherever his hands caressed her. 

He was talented with his hands - knew just the right amount of pressure to give and take at each moment. She really had needed this. Trying to reach that spot between her shoulder blades on her own had been a nightmare.

Minutes passed with only the sounds of their breath and Soul’s practiced hands over her skin. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Everything was just easy with him.

“Hey, Soul?”

He acknowledged her with a noncommittal grunt.

“Thank you. I know I haven’t exactly been pleasant lately, but I really do appreciate all of your help.”

She wanted to say more, it felt as though she hadn’t really expressed to him how much he means to her, but Soul wasn’t one for flowery words and declarations of love. She knew that was enough of a thanks for him. 

“You don’t gotta thank me for all that, Maka. We’re partners, this is what we do for each other.”

“Right,” she whispered, a faint smile gracing her lips.

“All done,” he announced, “you gonna hang tight and read for a bit?”

“No - I’d like to, but I just feel too tired and nauseous to focus on anything like that right now. Maybe I’ll just try to take another nap.”

Without a word, he sauntered over to the book she had brought - a period-piece romance novel that he would make fun of at the first given opportunity. After it was in his grasp, he collapsed on his back right next to her. He really did kind of reek of beer, but she didn’t have the heart to push him away.

Once he found her bookmarked spot, he started from the top of the page with a hardy clear of his throat, reading the lead male love interest’s lines in the most posh and ridiculous accent she could have imagined.

She immediately burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles and snorts, which only encouraged him to continue, smiling from ear to ear as he did.

She nearly ran out of breath when he began reading the female heroine’s dialogue in a shrill voice that sounded more like an old British nanny than a pretty young woman. 

He continued this entertainment for an admirable hour and a half before he had to admit that his vocal cords were defeated from the strain of ‘fancy British lady voice.’ 

By the time he had put the book aside, she had a hand curled around his bicep and her face was buried in his neck.

He’d said he was watching TV, but he fell asleep within 10 minutes of setting her book down much like an old man.

Her skin felt dry and tight, a feeling she was easily able to ignore while Soul was reading for her. She was aware that she’d need to get up soon to re-apply aloe, or she’d regret it later. Yet, it was so difficult to move away from him. 

He was breathing deeply, and he smelled less like a bar and more like a beach the closer she was to him. He always looked so peaceful when he slept too. He looked young, like he didn’t carry the exhaustion that he usually does. 

Despite the calm, collected demeanor he always tried to hold around others - he carried a lot of weight on his shoulders from pretending to be the person that other people need him to be. From taking the load off other people’s backs, he only strained himself and she felt this tiredness from it all that seeped into the very cracks of his soul.

She wished he didn’t have to try so hard all the time. She wished he could let himself be taken care of for once.

“I know you told me before that I don’t need to thank you. That the things you do for me are what I should expect from a partner, but you really are more than that to me, Soul,” she’d only whispered this into the crook of his neck, but she lifted her head up just to check that he was still unconscious. 

He appeared serene, his breathing steady and not a crinkle in his face to indicate her words had disturbed him from his slumber.

“You can always depend on me too. I’d love to take care of you the way you take care of me. You deserve that - you know that, right?”

Not even a twitch.

She sighed, not expecting him to respond in the first place, but a little disappointed she hadn’t had the courage to tell him this while he was awake. She assumed it safe that he was in a deep sleep and began threading her fingers through his thick tufts of hair sticking up from his forehead.

“I know that when you say you love me, you’re talking about as a partner, as a friend. Well, I love you too. I love you a lot, Soul. I’m always afraid to say it back ... because it would carry a different weight when I say it. It’s like I’m afraid you’d just know.”

His breath hitched for a moment and her heart nearly jumped into her throat. 

He only readjusted slightly, pressing his cheek against the top of her head and making a small sound akin to a whimper before his breathing evened out again. 

She let out the shaky breath she had been holding and turned her head ever so slightly to press a soft kiss to his throat, where she could feel the warmth of his pulse.

“I hope we stay partners for a really long time.”

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Voices Through the Void

what’s this? a legacy smp fic? yep! inspired by this ask on @legacysmpheadcanons 

featuring: lime misses his friend, alien!thomas, late night conversations are the best conversations, post logic’s disappearance, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, vaguely defined rift mechanics

If they're honest with themselves, joining a server in the aftermath of a war is a strange experience. They feel out of place amongst the weary Legates, the few that remain. In the air, grief lingers, and follows all of their actions with a palpable sense of loss. It's impossible to miss how Avo falters saying Logic's name, or how Poppy still glances behind her. When Pearl visited and simply hugged the remaining three tight. Or how Lime seems like a stranger in the city he and Logic once called home. 

Yeah... Lime.

If Logic's abduction has hit anybody hard, it's Lime. Thomas notices these things! He has a lot of questions of his own, of course. Like, how was he summoned here or how they got into this mess. But, he thinks it's a bit rude to ask those things of somebody who's grieving. Well, they'd also have to find Lime, first.

He has a tendency to disappear, lately. Being a developer comes with duties of its own, which they're all very aware of. But he's been… absent. Even in the dead of night, his bases will be empty. The land completely void of tanned skin, white hair or the thrum of magic that’s quickly grown familiar.

They've discussed it between them. The other new Legates all concluded that he's probably mourning. Thomas, though… he's curious. They're in a land controlled by a mysterious magic, summoned here by a developer. He wants answers. Or at least, one mystery to be solved.

So when he sees Lime leaving his house, his cape wrapped around him to block out the night chill, Thomas follows. His rockets are hooked onto his belt, and his elytra is held shut behind him. He doesn't breathe as he follows through the sand, treading into grains that barely shift under his weight. Whenever Lime glances back, Thomas is already pressed against a building, his skin naturally blending with his surroundings. He wonders if Lime is always so afraid of pursuers, or if he's being too obvious. More than once, guilt settles heavily on his chest. He considers turning back, but he's always been a curious creature. Too curious for his own good.

He keeps his distance as Lime approaches the ravine. They've all been warned about this, told in a stern voice to stay away. It was the only boundary they were given and, until now, none of them thought to question it. When Thomas takes a step forward, his helmet beeps. He ducks back behind the nearest building, flicking up the panel on his arm. Abnormal energy levels detected. Oh.

This is the rift, isn't it?

"So, we managed to band together to open a rift between worlds," Avo told them, his voice dramatic. "With the clothes on our backs, leaving everything behind us." 

"But y'all picked me up along the way!" Poppy added, reaching over to squeeze Avo's shoulder. "And you guys too, now!"

A dimensional rift… what could Lime want to do with that?

Trusting his natural camouflage, he creeps closer to the ravine. Only to nearly jump off his feet at an explosion, freezing in place. The soft twinkle of XP follows, and for a moment, Thomas is afraid Lime was the cause. But, peeking over the edge, he can see Lime moving around, operating some kind of machine. What is that? It's like nothing Thomas has seen before. Another explosion has him flinching, eyes flicking to the fossil that's been dug out of the wall.

His vision briefly whites out, Thomas raising an arm to protect his eyes. When he manages to blink them back open, the space under the ribcage is glowing a blinding, pure light. Lime stands in front of it, a solitary black figure leaning against the bones.

"Hey, uh. Still not sure if you can hear this,” Lime starts, speaking into the light. His voice is quiet, yet rings out in the sudden silence of the night. “I of all people should've guessed that you can't give us a sign." Lime laughs softly, rubbing the back of his neck and disrupting the hair lying there. "The new Legates are settling in well. I- I think we might have a chance with them here. I just-" Lime cuts himself off with a sigh. "We're going to rescue you, dude. I promise we're coming. I know it's hard, but you need to keep holding on for us, okay? Just… keep holding on." Lime looks back at the levers, Thomas pressing against the ledge to hide. "I'll talk to you soon. Or- to myself again. Even I don't know. Jeez, that's weird."

The glow of the rift becomes blinding before blinking out, leaving only darkness in its place. Thomas scrunches his eyes tightly shut, patches of light filling his vision.

"Thomas?" Every part of his body freezes up at the call of his name. When he peers down, he can see Lime looking towards the top of the ravine. "You can come out now. It's safe." He-! Ugh. Thomas pushes himself up, his entire body feeling jellified. He ends up sitting on the edge of the ravine, not confident he'll be able to fly down whilst his body is half asleep. 

"Lime, I'm-" 

Lime holds a hand up, "I'm not angry. This was bound to happen eventually." 

"I still shouldn't have done it," Thomas admits, sinking down. He can admit when he's wrong. He knew it was a bad idea! 

"Players are curious, I- I understand. If I had a problem, I would've stopped you from following me." 

"You knew back then?!" Thomas exclaims before he can think better of it. Lime laughs, that soft chuckle he has, hand over his mouth. 

"Yes. Your signature is fairly distinctive." Good to know, he guesses.

"Then why didn't you stop me?" This seems like a private moment. It's not something Thomas would want somebody witnessing.

"I don't… intend to keep secrets," Lime replies. He sounds unsure of the answer himself. "But, I suppose I am a secretive person by nature. And Logic didn't exactly approve of. This." 

"Is this to do with the rift?" Thomas asks. Lime turns to look at the contraption behind him.

"Yes, it… is." Lime sighs, "This machine, it opens the rift. Not by much, but enough to get something through. An object, a person-"

"A message," Thomas adds. Lime looks back at him in surprise before he schools his expression with a nod.

"A message, yes. It's how I called you here." That makes sense, Thomas thinks. There's a lot about the rift he'd like to know. "I don't like to open it often. Not everything on the other side is friendly."

"But some things are worth it," Thomas says, thinking of Lime's soft voice, the way the rift held his attention. Lime sighs, but it's not an unhappy sound.

"Some things are worth it," he agrees. "But, we should probably be turning in for the night. The rift may still be unstable." Thomas looks at the empty space caged by bone. Maybe, if he looks hard enough, he could see through it. He bites his tongue.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Rather not get mobbed on the way back." Lime chuckles. Then Thomas blinks and Lime is standing beside him, a hand held out. Thomas looks back to the empty ravine but takes Lime’s hand with two of his. "How did you just-"

"I have some tricks," Lime replies, the corner of his lip perked up. He pulls Thomas to his feet, stepping back so he can brush the sand from his suit.

"Of course you do," Thomas whispers, hearing Lime giggle. He catches a glimpse of a bright, genuine smile on the developer's face before he turns away. With a nod, Lime leads the way, and Thomas follows him as they walk towards the village.

"Thank you for keeping me company tonight," Lime says, as they walk across the empty desert. Thomas turns away from the stars on the horizon to give Lime an incredulous look.

"Following you and listening in on a private conversation?" Thomas questions.

"It was company regardless," Lime replies. "And I appreciate it."

"So you'll stop sneaking off on your own all the time?" 

Lime taps his chin, hesitating before replying, "Maybe." 

"You invited us here, man," Thomas presses, "Let us help." Lime falters a step. 

"I- I suppose I did." He doesn't look at Thomas as he adds, "I will… try. That will have to be good enough for now." Thomas squeezes his shoulder.

He's planning to do more than try.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Week Fog/Splatter (Also Works For Darkness/Poison And Glow Stick/REDRUM): Poised To Go Splat

Casper high, predictably, can’t even have a normal dance without it getting interrupted by something ecto.

Danny pushes in the gymnasium doors, drink -which is, in his opinion, unfortunately non-alcoholic punch- already in hand. Side-stepping and leaning against the wall purely to watch the pulsing, flashing, moving strobe lights and laser beams bouncing off and curving over people glowing bright neons thanks to the blacklight. Excluding that light, it was borderline pitch-black; which he finds he’s perfectly content with. Being able to see in even absolute dark and all that. Honestly, this would probably look cooler without his fantastic night vision. Seeing as everyone else probably can’t see the turned off ceiling lights or teachers dressed in dark colours hanging out watching the dance. But fuck, at least his parents aren’t here this time. Lancer is, but Lancer’s probably the only teacher left who doesn’t hate his entire being, guts, and continued existence.

Looking around at the decorations as he wanders aimlessly over to the food table, thank everything the theme was Creepy Critters, guess the school and town were finally tiring of making goddamn everything ghost-themed. Sure it was funny and ironic at first -honestly come on, a ghost going to ghost-themed events? HILARIOUS- but things lose that little spark of novelty real quick. Especially when you are a ghost -or half of one at least-, are surrounded by and fighting other ghosts, have ghost hunters for parents and friends, and live in the most haunted town in the world. Ghosts were their thing but nobody likes a one-trick pony, especially the people living with said pony. Now what does ponies have to do with the current Halloween Casper high ball and him acquiring fake cheesy snacks? Absolutely nothing. He’s not even wearing a pony costume. Sure he thought about it, FrightKnight would argue that undead alicorns absolutely do count as a creepy critter, but Danny’s pretty sure that’s not what the school was going for here.  

Needless to say, Danny’s rocking a pretty solid -if he says so himself- raven costume. And sure, maybe it was glowing all by itself and maybe the feathers were just slightly sentient and made of black moulded ectoplasm, but it’s not like anyone here’s going to notice that. Danny is exceptionally experienced with what people will and will not notice in this school and town. Regardless, he gets his hands on his sweet cheesy puffs... and is instantly disappointed they got the no-name brand. Those things were so greasy they legitimately tasted like straight-up flavourless grease, just with a side of cheese. Like someone poured grease into a mould, filled it with air to make it puffy ‘n shit,  and then sprinkled some cheese on top like an afterthought. Needless to say, he eats an entire handful. Danny Fenton-Phantom is not a man -teen, whatever- of refined tastes or any large amount of standards. He’ll eat cheese-flavoured grease, he’ll do it gladly.

Deciding to meander onto the dance floor aka the centre of the gym, to enjoy the light show and attempt to get lost in it a little. Most people are chitchatting with their friends, dancing stupidly, pretending to be drunk, or pretending they’re about to sneak into the bathroom to fuck purely to get a rise out of the teachers. Sure it takes all of half an hour for someone to start smashing apart glow sticks and smear the liquid around, which of course cause practically half his fellow teens -including him in all honesty- to follow suit, but that’s really par for the course at any Highschool dance worth it’s salt and ectoplasm. Besides, not like he actually had to wash his costume, fuck that he’ll just absorb the ectoplasm into his system; leaving the probably toxic glow stick juice though. He doesn’t have standards but he does have at least a mild desire to not intentionally poison himself. Regardless of the fact that his ectoplasm would just destroy whatever toxins anyway. Thinking of that though, maybe he could, like, drink one or two just to freak people out. It’s not a Casper party unless Danny Fenton does something weird and freaky, right? And pretending to get repeatedly trapped inside the mirrors and writing on them to be freed was so last year, like, literally last year. Yeah fuck it, self-inflicted poisoning be damned, that’s what he’s doing this year. Meaning he promptly snaps one open and shotguns it while winking at one of the teachers he can easily see. They scowl and throw out their hands to the side. Mission accomplished already. Nice.

Vaguely he wonders what the heck his friends are up to while he dances loosely and only absently aware of people around him. He knows neither’s coming, Tucker being grounded and Sam disliking the idea of school parties while also not being willing to tolerate one purely to keep Danny company. Which was fine, he could entertain and enjoy himself by himself just fine. And he gets that he can be a little much for most people, his friends included. But hey, they haven’t totally ditched him in life/half-life, so he’s going to consider it a plus. Tilting his head back to let some of the flashing beams periodically flash him straight in the eyes, how it made everything else blackout for a bit was a nice effect even if the light bordered on painfully bright for those split seconds. He gets his friends pulling away from him some, really it was hard for humans to be close with anything that wasn’t quite human enough. Same reason Vlad was utterly friendless, alongside being an evil nutcase anyway. Danny honestly doesn’t mind, honest, he’s perfected the loner act at least to some degree most of his life. He was always only close enough with people to be able to include them in his social circle. Sure Sam and Tucker got almost unhealthily close and attached to him for a while there, but the whole ‘we almost killed you and need to protect your dumbass now because fuck, you died’ and ‘this hero thing is cool af’ things wore off real quick. Their friendship was effectively back to normal now, close but at arm's length. He liked the breathing space even if it was just slightly lonely. But again, as he spins and twists a little, he’s perfected the sorta-loner thing.

He shotguns another little glow stick -that he’s pretty sure used to be wrapped around someone’s wrist- and lays spread out on the ground; not really giving a damn about occasionally being stepped on and waving off anyone who checks on him with a cheeky ‘I'm good’. That gets boring really quick though, especially as people just consciously know to avoid his spot on the floor now. He paused in his almost attempt to push himself up at hearing someone mutter, “ah yes! Finally got this stupid thing working”. Danny tilting his head at seeing something vibrate on the ceiling before making a hissing sound and spitting out fog. Ah, so they actually dished out for a fog machine? Oh wait, never-mind. It’s got a little green flaming F on it. Ah fuck, he should probably be worried about that, that F was probably ominous all things considered. But he can’t really be bothered to do more than watch it spit fog for a bit, fog machines were frickin’ awesome. He should totally buy one. Or make one.

It don’t take long to hear a couple mildly impressed sounds over the fogging up air above everyone’s heads, and a few complaints about it apparently smelling like rotten lime juice and cat piss. Which yeah, definitely ominous. Weren’t fog machines supposed to smell like fake vanilla or something? Make you wonder just what the Hell the added strong vanilla was there to attempt at covering up. Maybe this was just what it smelled like without the added vanilla. Doubtful and Danny’s hardly ever that lucky. Hence why he’s deciding staying on the floor is officially a good idea. Watching the effect with the lasers ‘n shit is cool as heck though.

He absolutely can tell when the fog gets far enough and thick enough to reach him, ‘cause the ecto making up his costume gets just vaguely liquidy. Oh yeah, he should probably nope out of this situation. At the very least if this stuff destroyed his costume he’d be stuck in just his boxers and a wife-beater. No one needs to see that. Or more specifically, he doesn’t want anyone to see that; considering all the scarring and the muscle he’s at least attempting to hide from the school at large.

Deciding to sit up and immediately deciding that crawling would have been a better idea at feeling like someone just started jabbing tiny needles into his face, which he immediately winces at and gets up. Pushing his way past the people, some looking legitimately drunk or otherwise like hot garbage. Zone, he probably looks drunk right about now since there is precisely zero chance he’s walking in a straight line considering how everything’s warping, bending, and pulsing. Yup, leave it to his parents to absently poison him at a seemingly basic normal high school dance. Lovely.

Well at least he got to have a good time for a while there. Right now though? He so totally is going to throw up. It’s happening and it can either happen on the dance floor -gross and unpleasant for everyone around- or in the locker room/bathroom -also gross, in fact it’s just slightly more gross but less embarrassing. But it’ll be less gross for everyone else. Which, come on, other people kinda tend to be his priority.

One stroke of luck though, the locker room is blessedly empty. Saving anyone from gross or just downright weird collateral when his costume effectively explodes in a sticky gooey ectoplasmic mess. Splattering all across the room while also sticking to him like some kind of disgusting vaguely sentient tar. Which effectively flings him into the centre of the room, smashing his back onto one of the benches, and makes wet slurpy suction noises when he lands on the ground properly. He absently thinks it was the single most comical stereotypical sounding ‘splat’ noise he’s ever heard, as he groans slightly.

Unsticking his arm from the ground with wet thwap suction noises to shot his hand over his mouth as he gags. Ah yup, there’s the whole vomit thing he was talking about. Shit body, time to get up. Preferably, like, now. It takes an honestly ungodly amount of effort to peel himself off the floor, the black ectoplasm still sticking and stretching with him as he stagger walks to the bathroom and effectively throws himself at the toilet; smashing his head on the ceramic tank in the process. Because, apparently, vomiting wasn’t enough for him. No. He also needed to have a mild headache. Fun.

It takes about three seconds before he feels like he’s hurling up his entire insides -which is a plausible theory- along with inner layers of flesh -also quite possible- and it glows ridiculously; that last one he can probably blame at least partly on the whole glow stick juice shooters idea of his.

Blinking down into the toilet bowl and wheezing, single most interesting mixture of glowing colours he’s seen in a long-ass time. And oh, yup more vomiting. Ah fuck, Jesus. He shoulda stayed home. He straight up really does feel like his insides are just mildly being torn apart or maybe liquified. Which, considering his costume and it’s black splatter remains, might be legitimately accurate. Which is, like, super not good for his half ecto ass. The fuck’s he supposed to do about it though? He’s stuck with his head in a toilet, ironically splattering the inside of that bowl about as much as the rest of the place was already messy with ecto.

He should at least attempt to do something about this. His phone is fuck knows where in the black mess behind him. Ancients knows if it even still will work properly after getting effectively soaked in supremely sticky ectoplasm and probably thrown violently into something. Eh, nobody said his ass wasn’t creative; hacking up his innards or not. Electing to use some of the ectoplasm -he’s not going to question how the heck he’s able to consciously move the black ecto. Beyond that he probably absorbed it some, in some weird attempt to make up for the glow stick contaminated crap he’s been hacking up- to smear a little ‘get help’ and ‘preferably from my dumbass parents’ on the mirrors, since speaking is kinda out of the option here. Not that anyone will walk in here and not call for help; this was kinda noticeable after all.

By the time someone does wander in he’s groaning into the stupid toilet -that he just mildly hates and feels way too friendly with at the moment- and feeling like his skin is going to bubble right off his muscles, his bones feel a little loose and wet too. Which, like, all that is a super supremely not good sign. Fuck, sometimes he wished his parents were just stupid rather than stupid smart. They wouldn’t be mildly good at actually hurting his ecto-ass otherwise.

“Oh holy crap, what the fuck”. Whoever’s footsteps get closer and make squelching noises, “oh god ew, why is it so sticky? Ah ew”. Danny retches again just to make a point that would dude bro to hurry the fuck up. “Fuck. Fenton? Of course it’s you, and- oh well that’s actually worrying. Ah, I’m just gonna go call your folks. Jesus fuck. You are one poor son of a bitch, you know that?”. Danny obviously doesn’t reply to that beyond sticking up a kinda floppy saggy arm and flipping the guy off weakly. “Wow fuck, that’s- uh. Are you like dissolving or something. Why the fuck do I still live in this tow- oh yeah hi! I don’t know what’s up but Fen-Danny dude is going all exorcist in the school locker rooms. Also kinda looks like he exploded black tar everywhere and bones seem questionable at best and pretty sure the toilet is, like, glowing or some shit so maybe come and like get him? So someone doesn’t have to, like, tie a liquid Danny up in garbage bags”. Ancients, people are way too used to weird shit in this fucking town.

Danny can almost hear his parents freaking the Hell out over the dudes phone, he would be actually able to hear it if it didn’t sound like he was underwater and actively sinking down deeper. This, decidedly, sucks. But he’s kinda good at the whole dissociating away the pain and other awfulness at this point. He feels it but like he’s watching himself feel it rather than directly feeling it. It’s a lot and kinda everything, but he’s not really there for it.

He feels the guy try to pat his back or some shit, whatever it is it definitely doesn’t happen right and he can feel himself latching onto the dude and sucking out whatever bits of ectoplasm the dude’s carting around in his system -every Amity Parker was ecto-contaminates after all- and Danny’s body kinda just devours it for some more energy. “Oh god, congrats I’m officially disgusted. I mean, I already was but give me back my freaking arm. Cannibalism is so not your style. Jesus”.

Both of them hear someone else opening the door. “I really wouldn’t, there’s some honestly nasty shit going on and this tar stuff is like fucking flypaper or some shit”.

“Holy fuck! Okay this is kinda cool and super Halloween-esque. But yeah- oh fuck! Hell no!”. Danny can tell the black ecto -which, fuck, absolutely part of him now. Cool. He needed the energy anyway- has sorta bubbled and popped onto the new guy and grabs at him. Promptly absorbing more ecto from that dude and apparently his ecto has just decided that this is the course of emergency action. Decontaminate people via lowkey ecto-cannibalising them. Yeah this is his luck alright. Not that this is actually really making him any better, since he just keeps throwing whatever up. But hey, it’s keeping him from getting worse. That’s something. What he honestly doesn’t appreciate really is new guy running out of the bathroom and taking a stretchy string of black with him. Right back to the whole poison fog situation. So he makes a damn point to smack more ecto on the mirror, ‘fog machine off’.

“Ah, you literally have not let go of my arm. But ah fuck, I’ll just text a friend. Fuck man”.

-

The dance outside goes into mild panic chaos mode as soon as a guy book’s it out of the locker rooms like he’s attempting to flee from the black thing grabbing him, which promptly just explodes and splatters everywhere. Coating, bubbling, crawling, and splattering all over the floor, walls, and multiple people. From there it practically spreads around like a freaking plague sticking from person to person.

Someone does manage to get to one of the teachers though, “the, fog machine, it’s causing this, shit”. The teacher sighs, “of course something the Fenton's made is causing this”, and runs off.

The chaos only gets worse when the Fenton’s themselves barge in, everyone pointing at the black stuff -which they can’t even be sure is ectoplasm at this point- or at the locker room doors. Which is enough to jerk the two hunters out of their shock and get them back to bolting to the locker rooms, which had been their goal to begin with. Meanwhile, the teachers attempt to free people from the sticky mess, fend the black stuff off, or control the chaos. Everyone wondering why the heck school dancers can literally never ever go off without a hitch.

-

Danny makes a point to smear up the mirror messages at just vaguely scenting his folks, while the dude mutters, “oh thank fuck”. Danny can practically feel the guy flailing around the arm that isn’t apparently stuck in him, which like mind trip right? Not that this entire event wasn’t already a bullshit trip and a half.

Seconds later feeling a very solid hand on his shoulder as he retches a little more and feels dude guy get yanked away from him. Well obvious as shit what happened there. His folks suits were ecto-phobic and ecto-proof after all. “Danny? Sweetie?”. Ah so that was his mom. Nice to know. He’d like to leave this entire situation now. Thank you very much.

He can hear her scowl and sounding slightly less directly talking to him, “damnit. Looks like the ecto-repulsitory solution is affecting him. I knew we should have tested it at home”.

“There was hardly time Mads! Nothing for it now I guess!”. His dad freaking laughs. Cool. Glad they’re having fun. They could totally help him out here any minute now. Like, any minute now.

Those glow sticks were a bloody terrible idea, the toilet smells fucking rank and he’s blaming it on that; he needs some kind of scapegoat after all, and it sure as shit wasn’t gonna be his ecto.

Who he’s assuming is his mom pulls him back and he sorta collapses backwards -into what he’s just gonna assume is a blanket- rather bonelessly. Like, literally boneless. As in, fuck he’s so totally a vaguely person-shaped sorta semi-solid liquid right now. Lovely. He should probably pull himself together before he scares the piss, shit and vinegar out of his folks. And hey, he’s not smelling or tasting the lime anymore so he might actually be successful at that. Though he makes some not particularly impressed or happy gag/grumbling noises at feeling his folks physically trying to tear off stuff from him. Probably the black ecto, which was kinda understandable at the moment. But fuck, that’s kinda all that’s feeding him ecto-energy at the moment so kindly fuck off yeah? He does manage to slur out, “mom”, in an annoyed tone before gaging and coving his mouth with a very limp hand again.

“Jack, bucket now”. Which yeah cool, he’s down for not throwing up all over himself. So fine, he appreciates the bucket as he hacks and gags some more. But at the very least the whole vomit ecto thing feels less thick and sticky, more vaguely like light water. Which may or may not be a good thing. But that’s pretty typical for, like, half the shit that happens to him these days. He gives his folks a little thumbs up when he’s done though. Partly to be an ass, partly to be reassuring. Those two things don’t seem like they can coexist, but by the Ancients do they ever. His mom takes the bucket away.

Blinking his eyes open a bit blearily, noting being wrapped in a towel -an anti-ecto one specifically- like a little Danny burrito. Not that he was exactly edible. Zone, he very explicitly wasn’t edible. Considering how ectoplasm was pretty gosh darn toxic. Glancing around at the black sticky splattered everywhere, well damn he sure made one Hell of a mess. The poor fucking janitor. It looks like his folks successfully ripped it all off him and are using the blanket to keep it all off. Explains why he feels tired and energetically spent then. Wasn’t being fed/absorbing ectoplasmic energy any more. Eh oh well, not that he can really complain about that to his folks. Instead choosing to groan a little, “what have I told you guys, about not testing shit against, me and my shit, before using it, like this”. And really? They have had this conversation dozens of times. Sure they still -how they haven’t come across the idea of halfas yet is absolutely befuddling- thought he was just weirdly ecto-contaminated. But they knew shit affected him and yet....

“Sorry Sweetie”.

His dad laughs a little, “we were in a bit of a rush. Wanted to protect the dance from ghosts you know!”.

Danny snorts, oh yeah, they so totally protected it from ghosts... by literally poisoning one. “Funny thing. Don’t think no ghost, has ever crashed, one of the dances. Usually you guys”. Ah Hell, he didn’t mean for that to sound kinda cutting; based on their slight grimaces it was at least somewhat hurtful. Which of course means now he’s gotta fix that. Fuck him. “Didn’t mean it, that way. Aw Hell whatever. Let’s just go home, yeah?”.

His dad scoops him up without any hesitation, “you sure Danny-boy?”.

Danny rolls his eyes tiredly, slumping bonelessly, “I doubt I’ll be, doing much more dancing”. Hell, was anyone? Judging by how they all kinda scuttle embarrassingly out of the locker room to a gym filled with only sticky black and people still yanking their limbs and shoes out of the tar-like ectoplasm. Why the heck the laser light show is still going on he doesn’t have the slightest clue. But hey, it looks pretty fucking cool, he’ll give it that. He kinda wanted to squirm out of his fabric confines and reach down to scoop some up, it was kinda part of him after all, but Ancients knows what in all is in that stuff at this point. Bits of other people’s contamination, fog poison, glow stick juice, generalised floor hunk, food and juice obviously, maybe even bits of people’s food. Yeah, he’s gonna give that one a hard pass. Plus his folks would freak at him. They didn’t exactly want him more ‘contaminated’, after all. Still he gives an impressed whistle. One of the teachers scowling at him, “you just had to one-up yourself huh?”. Which Danny gives a cheeky lopsided and slightly melty smile at.

Danny speaks back up as his folks settle him down in the GAV, “so, what’s that stuff supposed to do? What did it even do?”. He has a few ideas but better to let them explain themselves to him. Their intentions did matter at least a little.

His dad perks up, “oh! It was supposed to disorient and discombobulate any ghosts! And make them unable to use abilities by making their ectoplasmic cells disjointed!”, then looking rather guilty, “I guess with you it made your more unusual ecto suffer some kind of disconnect with the rest of you. Like it made your body think it was rotten. Like food poisoning! And made your ecto ‘think’ your body was foreign so it tried dissolving it!”, tapping his chin, “not the slightest idea what was up with the black stuff clinging to you though”, and looks to his mom who shrugs.

Danny will admit that shit was confusing as Hell, so fine that would make a suitable deterrent. Not so suitable when the thing it’s trying to deter can’t fucking move away from it effectively though. So major design flaw there. Ah well, with his less than pleasant -for everyone involved- reaction, they’ll probably scrap this particular experiment. Which is totally fine by him. He may as well satiate their curiosity a little, to avoid any repeat incidences at the least, “ah well, I may have went and made my costume out of some of that black purified experimental ectoplasm”.

His mom blinks at him, “you did what???”, shaking her head in clear disbelief, though really they should expect this kind of stunt from him at this point, “sweetie, did you at least have something protecting your skin?”.

Danny grins a little, “I used that spray stuff”, which wasn’t even a lie. Walking around a dance with literal purified ecto on him without spraying on some kind of barrier to keep it from hurting anyone would have been grade A stupid, even for him. And honestly? That probably saved his ass slightly, was probably why that ecto had been able to absorb other ecto at all instead of just being a liquid sticky mess.

His mom taps her chin, “huh, the caustic interaction between the settled spray and fog formula must have caused the ectoplasm to coagulate and seek out energy sources”. Danny decidedly doesn’t say shit, let them think what they want. While she continues, “and you were its closest potential source but were obviously having a reaction yourself, so it just clung to you instead”. It would probably be mean of him to point at that it was kinda part of him at that point and that he could absolutely feel through it. Or that it wasn’t feeding itself but rather him. So that he, y’ know, would, like, pass out from energy loss or some shit. Passing out in a toilet, ugh that so would have been not fun. Thank you weirdly sticky black ecto stuff.

Anyway, he yawns, because now he’s tired and would like to genuinely replenish all the ecto he hacked up. At least he was a bit more solid now though. That was a positive something.

His mom smiles at him sweetly a bit as they get home, “I guess we best let you rest rather than spewing theories at you”, and nods at his dad, who swiftly and surprisingly smoothly scoops him up. Danny’s cool with this particular course of action, not making a fuss about his dad carrying him up to his room or his mom kissing him on the forehead afterwards.

Eyeing his phone, naw, he’ll let his friends find out on their own and be confused for a bit. That’s what they get for sorta ditching him.

-

Nightshade: do I want to know how you ‘unleashed a black slime monster’ at the dance?

PDAxpda: ???

PDAxpda: ‘monster’ not ‘ghost’

PDAxpda: found photo the heckers

Nightshade: someone also mentioned you got drunk on glow sticks and vomited literal rainbows

Nightshade: nice asettic but yoyr a dumbass

PDAxpda: 💯 that shits toxic

PDAxpda: not that that matters to a certain someone

Dpain: 😉

Dpain: and I guess I kinda qualify as a monster

PDAxpda: I hate the implications there

Nightshade: that black shit was you wasn’t it you ass

Dpain: only vaguly

Dpain: nebulously

Dpain: margunally

Nightshade: I hate you

Dpain: 😏

End.

[poetic-emptiness-fanfic]

Livin’ La Vida Loca (Echoes of the Past 15: Freebie!)

Finally it is finished! I had an irritating writing block, but I’m happy it’s over now. This fic sets during the plague, when Hande is apprenticing with Julian.

The name of this fic is from a song Livin’ La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Characters: Hande Kuura & Julian Devorak

Content warning: some profanities

Words: ~3 250

@arcana-echoes

It has been a long day at the clinic – lots of patients and lots of research. Julian is tired and he can see that his apprentice is as well. She tries to put on a brave face, but he can see that she's very tense – has she had any chance to relax? They have been working together for five months, but Julian has only seen Hande at work. He has learned that Hande is extremely conscientious, fast learner and she really cares for the patients. He has also found out, that like him, Hande loves reading and it is fun to discuss about different books during their lunch breaks. Julian has grown to like her, and even see her as his friend – the busy days feel less tiring with her around.

After locking the door behind the last patient, Julian turns to Hande and smiles at her, ”Well, that was a busy one. Great work – I can't even realise how I did manage before you tagged along!” Hande chuckles to Julian's praises and shrugs, ”Thanks, but it's not just me – you really are a spectacular doctor, believe it or not.” Julian blushes by the compliment, but Hande is too polite to point it out. She just pats her teacher's hardel and goes to change to her everyday clothes. While Julian is in the other room changing himself he ponders if he should ask Hande out. They are practically colleagues and they're also friends, so it wouldn't be inappropriate. He also has a feeling that Hande is quite lonely, with her family and friends in Karnassos.

”Hey, Hande?” Julian shouts to his apprentice so she could hear her, ”Would you mind if I took you somewhere? Erm, to let our hair down, so to speak?” The doctor hears only silence for a moment, before Hande's voice echoes from another room, ”No, I wouldn't mind, that sounds nice.” Julian lets out a relieved sigh and his lips twitch into a small smile, ”Great! I can offer you something to eat as a thank you, if you wish?” He hears Hande coming back to the office while she hums in affirmative. After Julian's done, he goes to the office and sees Hande opening her hair which is tied into a French twist. Her hair is pretty long, he notes, settling to the level of her waist. Stop gawking! That's inappropriate!

Hande turns to look at Julian, looking a little embarrassed, ”I don't want to keep the same hairstyle during my free time, otherwise I'd never let go of the work stuff. It probably sounds silly...” Julian gives Hande a friendly smile and shakes his head, ”No, it doesn't sound silly at all. It's good you have ways to avoid thinking about work during your free time.” Hande smiles back, separates her hair in two parts and starts to braid the other half. Julian is looking at her procedure and his curiosity takes over, ”Uhm, may I ask what are you going to do?” Hande glances at Julian before she turns back and continues braiding, ”I'm going to make two braids and pull them over my head, like a headband. Then no one gets the opportunity to try and pull my hair.” Julian seems to think for a moment and before he can reconsider he asks, ”Do you... Do you want me to braid the other half? It'd be faster that way.” Hande turns to face Julian, looking surprised, but also a little amused, her eyebrows raising. Before Hande can say anything Julian blurts, ”Uhm, I can braid... I have a little sister... I used to braid her hair sometimes.”

Hande's eyes widen for a little moment – she didn't expect to hear something like that. She recovers from her shock quickly and beckons Julian to come closer. Julian understands that Hande has accepted his offer and tentatively starts to braid her hair. It feels slippery and soft in his hands – completely different than Pasha's hair. ”Tell me about her. Your sister, I mean,” Hande asks silently after a moment of silence. Julian chuckles and starts to tell while braiding, ”Her name is Pasha. She's three years older than you and we grew up in Nevivon together...” He continues telling about his sister while they are working on Hande's hairstyle. Hande looks satisfied and compliments Julian's work which causes the poor doctor to blush again. When the duo is ready Julian dramatically offers his arm to Hande, who laughs and with an exaggerated curtsey takes it. ”Well, Doctor Devorak, show me the way!”

***

Hande looks curiously at the sign above her head: The Rowdy Raven. She has never been here before and she's curious to see it. The place seems to be a tavern, but it looks rather cozy when she peeks through the window. Still, she can't help feeling a little nervous – what if she ends up being too obviously out of place? Well, fortune favors the brave, as they say... Hande lets Julian lead her into the tavern. They're welcomed with loud laughter and music playing in the background – there's a band playing in a corner. That makes Hande feel herself more at home, if you could call a tavern a home.

The young woman looks around her. There are locals and people from abroad, all of them having a good time chatting or playing cards with each other. People who notice her and Julian entering turn to greet her teacher with joy on their faces. Hande tenses a little, because it is clear, that Julian is very popular person in here, and Hande is... Well, she's here for the first time in her life, although she's lived in Vesuvia for almost a year. Julian squeezes Hande with his arm reassuringly, ”I'd get us some food and drinks. Do you have any wishes?” Hande looks a little pensive, but she decides it's better to speak than stay silent. ”Uhm... Are there... Are there any non-alcoholic drinks? I'm a teetotaler...” she whispers uncertainly.

Julian freezes on the spot. Shit. Congratulations, you've fucked up and brought a teetotaler to a tavern.. You idiot... His faces turns red again and he sputters, ”I-I'm sorry! I didn't know that...” Hande notices Julian's panicking and hurries to assuring him, ”No, no, it's fine! I don't mind others drinking, well at least if they're not steaming... I've just never amused to drink alcohol myself... It isn't because of any belief, if that's any comfort...” Julian is surprised, how Hande is nervous about his reaction, and can't help but smile to her, ”No, you don't need to worry! I don't mind at all, and you're not obliged to explain your reasons, if you don't want to. There should be also some non-alcoholic drinks, so no harm done.” Hande smiles to him thankfully which makes Julian a little giddy. No, concentrate. Go and order your food and drinks!

Hande waits by a table when Julian gives their orders to a barkeeper. The young woman glances around, observing other patrons curiously, wondering where some of them might come from. Soon Julian comes back with their drinks. ”Barth said he'll bring the food soon,” he says, handing her a glass with lime green liquid in it. ”I hope you like this one, I wasn't quite sure what to get,” Julian says, looking a little embarrassed. Hande smiles at him reassuringly and takes a little sip from her drink. It's suitably sweet with citrus aroma – probably lemon and lime combined. ”This is so good! Dr. Devorak, how did you manage to choose a drink I like so much?” Hande asks sounding impressed, which makes the poor Julian to blush again. ”Well, erm... I wish I could say it was intuition, but... uhm... I remember how you once told me you like lemons so...” the man stammers. Now it's Hande's turn to get embarrassed; she doesn't blush visibly, but she can feel her cheeks burn. Julian remembers random things I've mentioned to him? ”You're way too good friend for me... I really am flattered, that you remember my ramblings.”

A little later Barth, the barkeeper, brings their meals in front of them and they eat in comfortable silence, sometimes asking or commenting something. Hande finds the tavern's atmosphere a little rowdy, but not hostile, and she feels more at ease. It's nice to spend time with Julian and see him outside of their work. Suddenly Hande's concentration turns to a discussion a few tables away. There are four men discussing in a foreign language which Hande recognises as Hjallean. She gets excited – she hasn't met any people from her mother's hometown for a long time. She apologises Julian and turns to face the men, ”Förlåt mig. Är ni från Hjalle?¹” The men turn to face Hande, looking positively surprised, ”Ja. Hur kan du tala hjalska, är du från där också?²” Hande smiles and answers, ”Jag föddes i Karnassos. Min mamma är från Hjalle, men hon tillhör Skogsfolket.³” The quintet continues their excited conversation. Julian smiles and watches how Hande speaks fluently in Hjallean, and listens when she finds out that the men are sailors and actually know her grandfather. Hande seems so happy to hear from her family that Julian can feel it, too. He also can't help, but to miss his own family a little.

A little later Julian also joins the conversation which causes the men and Hande to cheer in surprise. The group has a friendly conversation and orders drinks to each other, until the band starts to play a Hjallean folk song which causes the sailors and Hande to sing along. Julian can't help but notice how Hande's voice is clear and beautiful, echoing above hollering of the sailors. To be entirely honest, Julian is mesmerized my her voice – she sounds like a siren, without ill intent, of course. After the song had ended, the sailors cheer to Hande, who looks a little humbled after getting that much attention, but still has a small smile on her face. The band's leader shouts to their table, ”Since the miss sang so beautifully, you can decide our next song!” Hande glances at Julian with a confused expression on her face. Julian just smiles to her encouragingly and winks. Hande smirks and states, ”I will decide, but on one condition: I get to play it, too.”

The band leader looks curious, ”Can the miss play, as well?” Hande nods and answers, ”Yes, I can play the fiddle. I've had lessons since I was a little girl.” The other band members grin and the fiddler steps up, handing their instrument to Hande. She stands up and walks to the corner, inspecting the fiddle for a moment. After she's satisfied, she tunes the instrument and asks, ”Do you know this song?” Hande plays a little part as a sample and the band leader chuckles and agrees. The leader gives a mark about starting the song and Hande joins the band. Julian is awed: this woman doesn't have a single drop of alcohol in her, and she still is having the time of her life. Joyful, wonderful singer and player even – and she's never mentioned any of that to him. This fascinating combination of humbleness and showmanship. Julian watches how Hande's fingers move on the fiddle, how concentrated she is. The song is a little melancholic, but still eventful and fast. The world seems to disappear: there's only music and Hande.

The enchantment is broken when the song ends. Hande remembers where she is and is a little flabbergasted by her courage, but is happy that she played. She doesn't remember when was the last time she had this much fun – in Julian's company she feels at ease, like her old self is coming back to life after so many years. Hande turns to see Julian who is cheering and applauding to them with the others at the tavern. The band leader thanks her when she gives the fiddle back to its owner and returns to her companion. ”Wow... I didn't know you could sing or play!” Julian compliments when she sits down. Hande lowers her gaze for a moment, but soon looks up and shrugs, ”Well... You don't need singing or playing when you're trying to be a doctor's apprentice. To be honest, complimenting myself is really hard for me, and I got this temporary moment of courage. I haven't played in front of an audience for years.” Julian smiles to Hande and feels warmth inside of him – he isn't sure if it's because of alcohol or his company. Concentrate. She's your apprentice. Julian clears his throat and speaks again, ”Did you like it? Playing in front of an audience, I mean.” Hande seems pensive before she gives a hesitant answer, ”Yes.”

Before Julian can say or do anything else, one of the sailors cut in. ”You should be proud of yourself, you really did great back there! Was that a Forestian song? I recognised it, but I'm not sure.” Hande turns to face the sailors and nods, ”Yes. I was surprised the band knew it, but it was fun. Karnassian music is much more popular, so it's nice to hear Hjallean ones for a change.” The group continues their conversation, but Julian is mostly concentrated on Hande. When they are telling about their work to the sailors, Julian, now a little tipsy, tells in surprising excitement, ”Yes... But you know what? Hande here, she... She can do MAGIC!” Hande doesn't have time to react before the sailors gasp in excitement and plead her to show them. Julian now realises he might have screwed up and tries to come to her rescue, but Hande speaks after a little silence, ”Would you like to hear a story? I can illustrate it with magic.” The sailors and even Julian show their enthusiasm for the idea. One of the sailors suggest a scary story and Hande proceeds, telling a Karnassian story about a jinn who fell in love with a human, but in time the human went mad for being so close to the jinn.

Probably for the first time in his life, Julian is awed by seeing magic. The light figures dancing in the air while Hande tells the story such a fascinating way make Julian feel giddy, almost like a child again. Being with Hande here and how... radiant she is, it's nearly overwhelming. The story is indeed scary, but he can't help but smile at her, and his heart jumps when Hande gives him a little smile back with her sparkling eyes. Other patrons have also gathered around watching the spectacle and shower Hande with compliments after the story is over. The sailors try to ask her to tell another, but Hande chuckles, ”I'm sorry, guys, but magic can be very taxing and I don't want to exhaust myself after a long day.” The sailors groan in disappointment, but still pat Hande on her shoulders, buying her one more drink. Julian hasn't bought any more drinks, because he tries not to get steaming, like Hande had expressed earlier – he doesn't want to make Hande feel uncomfortable. The music is compelling and he'd like to ask Hande to dance, but isn't sure if it's appropriate.

After a short internal debate, his reason seems to leave him, when Hande turns to look at him. Julian hasn't noticed it before, but now Hande's eyes look so beautiful, almost like the deep, blue water. His body starts to move on its own: he reaches his hand towards Hande, palm up and his mouth opens before he can think of it, ”Oh, miss Kuura... Would you like to have a dance with me?” Hande watches Julian's hand and laughs goodheartedly to his dramatic request. Julian is pretty sure Hande's thinking is pretending, but he still feels a little nervous. Finally Hande decides to save her teacher, ”Yes, I'd like that. Though, I must warn you, I haven't danced for a long time. I might be quite rusty.” Julian just chuckles and reassures his apprentice by saying that she'll be fine. Hande smiles to Julian again and gives her hand to him.

Julian places his hand on Hande's waist chastely and leads her to dance. His apprentice is a little tense at first, probably because they're first time this close to each other and because she is nervous about her dancing skills. ”Just relax, I got you,” Julian whispers to Hande, smiling to her reassuringly. Hande takes a deep breath and nods, trying to smile back, although the final result is a little lopsided. The current song is quite fast, just perfect for Julian. He guides Hande who seems to trust him enough and let the music, rhythm and Julian lead her. After a moment she relaxes and the dance feels more natural. Julian enjoys being this close to Hande, seeing her feeling comfortable in his arms. She's so vibrant, so beautiful... I haven't noticed it before. Julian tries to shake off his thoughts and have a little conversation with his apprentice, complimenting her dancing and telling how nice the evening has been. Hande smiles to him which makes him feel weak in his knees. She enjoys my company, her laughter, so full of joy. It almost makes me forget the current situation...

The dance is enchanting and Julian wants the moment to never end. The band starts to play a different song, much more speedy than the last one. This causes Julian to get an idea. He faces Hande with a little smirk on his face. ”Hande, do you trust me?” he asks. Hande looks at Julian a little hesitant, but then lets out a little laugh, ”Yes, I do trust you, Julian. But please, don't kill me.” Hande's last remark causes Julian to bark a laughter and whisper into her ear, ”I wouldn't dream of it.” He tightens his grip of Hande and leads her to the outskirts of the dance floor. Hande only gets a little warning to brace herself, before Julian lifts her, so she's now standing on a chair, and he soon follows suit. Then he rises on a longer table, taking Hande with her. She lets out a surprised yelp, but recovers soon. ”Why, Julian, are you suggesting, that we'd dance on the table?” Hande whispers her question, and Julian can hear her mischievous tone. Oh gods, she's a treasure.

Julian's smirk gets wider and he twirls Hande around before starting to dance properly. The band speeds up and patrons cheer to the duo while some of them try to save their pints. None of the things on the table gets knocked – Hande lets Julian lead her and he's done this before so he is very confident with his partner. The Rowdy Raven is filled with music, cheering and Hande's and Julian's laughter. Suddenly Hande takes the charge and dips Julian in the middle of the table, making him grab Hande for his life. Now it's Hande's turn to smirk and she leans in to whisper to Julian, ”Thank you, Julian. I didn't realise I needed this.” Julian blushes, but manages to give Hande a bashful smile, when Hande lifts him up and they continue their dance. Julian forgets everyone else and just gaze at Hande mesmerized, feeling happy for the first time for gods know how long. This intelligent, warm-hearted and beautiful person is dancing with him, smiling at him.

Oh shit. I think I have a crush.  

TRANSLATIONS:

¹ ”Excuse me. Are you from Hjalle?

² ”Yes. How can you talk Hjallean, are you from there, too?”

³ ”I was born in Karnassos. My mom is from Hjalle, but she belongs to Forest people.”

My AO3

[nate-santos]

Friend or Dough || Nate & Orion

TIMING: Early January LOCATION: Fondante’s Inferno PARTIES: @3starsquinn @nate-santos​ SUMMARY: Rio comes to get some late night sweets CONTENT WARNINGS: Just sweet fun!

It was long past dark by the time that Orion finally left the Scribrary. A glance at his phone as he hiked through the woods to get to the closest parking lot where he could pull the car up told him that it was just past two in the morning. He weighed his options. He could drive back to the house and try to scrounge up some food. This late in the night, that wasn’t exactly ideal. But the late hour didn’t leave many options either. He was more than familiar with the Fondante’s Inferno than any normal, sane person probably should be. One perk of living with his nightmare of a family came with a seemingly endless allowance that allowed him to divulge in any sweet tooth craving he had. Now, he didn’t even want to know how much money he had dropped at the bakery since he had moved out on his own. He had a bad habit of dropping in at late hours and ordering in bulk to keep at the Scribrary as his own personal self serve buffet.

By the time he got to the bakery, it was inching closer and closer to that three in the morning deadline, and Orion rushed into the shop in a hurry, out of breath and already offering apologies. “Hey! I’m sorry. So sorry. I don’t mean to keep you any later than you’re already here. I was hoping to get here before you closed.” He tried perusing the leftover goods as he rested his palms on his knees and tried to catch his breath. There wasn’t much that wasn’t good at this bakery, ran by a guy around the same age and wildly more successful than himself clearly. Luckily, the guy seemed incredibly nice. “How’s it going tonight? Busy day?” At almost three in the morning, it wasn’t any surprise that Rio found himself as the only remaining customer in the place. But he always recommended the place to others and hoped that during normal hours the place stayed busy.

Late nights didn’t bother Nate. Sure, it was his shop and he could set the hours, but late at night, the town seemed to become a more peaceful place. Plus he never wanted to alienate the previous owners’ regulars, even if he never seemed to have what they were looking for. The usual “after bar” crowd had just finished filtering out and Nate looked at the clock. Three was coming on quick and he hadn’t seen his most regular regular yet. His brow furrowed and he set about sweeping up and cashing out the register, happy to be alone for a bit. Easing his way back into the storefront had been harder than anticipated. More than one of his usual customers had apparently shifted in his subconscious to be more monstrous than friendly and it was difficult to focus when the old woman you’ve known your whole life was staring at you with glowing red eyes.

Like a tornado, someone rushed into the shop, breathlessly looking over the day’s last fresh pastries. Nate spun on his heel at the sound of the door, nearly tripping over the dustpan he’d just dropped, only to feel relief wash over him like a tidal wave. “Orion! Hey!” He propped the broom against the counter as the rush of adrenaline eased its way through his body. “You know you never have to apologize for keeping me late, you’re my best customer,” he laughed, prepping a few boxes for whatever the guy picked out tonight. “Not so busy, mostly just pick ups and stuff. But not too shabby.” It was more than a relief to say that Orion looked entirely and perfectly normal. Regular human, no scary teeth or hands or scales to be seen. “What’s keeping you out so late?” He asked, already putting a few of the older pastries in a box.

Nate was always a friendly face, and someone that Orion was especially happy to give business too. It was only a plus, or to go too far into a pun, the cherry on top, that the food was incredible. The two had found a sort of easy groove with each other. Rio showed up at odd hours and bought way too many baked goods at once and Nate was incredibly friendly about it and even seemed to specifically make things that he knew Rio liked. The latter of which had not gone unnoticed by Rio, who was especially thankful. “Oh I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure there are plenty of other good customers that show up during like… normal people hours.” Rio laughed nervously, never quite sure how to properly accept compliments. “Besides, you make it very easy to want to come back.” Deflecting with his own compliments was usually the best line of defense that Rio had. “Oh you know. The usual.” Rio shrugged, trying to think of exactly what the usual was. He hated lying, even to people he didn’t necessarily know very well. “I get caught up in an assignment or studying and end up staying too late.” That was about as truthful as he could be to someone that didn’t know about the Scribrary. “Wanted to make sure I stopped by before you closed though. Wouldn’t want to miss out on whatever you came up with today.”

Nate chuckled as Rio perused the goods. “Sure, but boring people come at normal hours and what fun is that?” It was a joke, but Nate wished it was true. What he wouldn’t give for all his customers to actually be normal again. His smile flickered for only a moment before he was back to his jovial self. Something about Rio always brought this side of him back to the forefront. It was like the accident never happened and he could joke and have small talk without the fear that now always lingered in the back of his mind. “Speaking of,” Nate said with a glimmer in his eye before racing to the back mid sentence. “I’ve got something for you to try!” He called, rummaging through boxes to find the new recipe he’d been playing with. Carrying it gingerly back out to the front as if it were some precious heirloom, Nate presented the tarts to his patron. “Chocolate blueberry tarts with a hint of lime. I know it sounds weird, but seriously.” Nate made the chef kiss motion with his hands. “Maybe these will help get you through the late night study sessions.” He could tell there was probably more to it than just studying late, but Nate didn’t like to pry. If people wanted to let him into their lives, they would. It never did any good to try to force your way in, especially when it’s really none of your business.

Unwrapping one of the tarts, Nate held it up for a little cheers. It was customary at this point for them to try some of his new creations together and while they weren’t all winners, they were usually still pretty darn good if he said so himself. Nate was a little apprehensive about this batch, given that he’d been low on yeast and had to dip into his bread delivery box to make the crust, but it couldn’t actually be sentient, right? That was just a marketing gimmick. “Cheers! To late nights and delicious sweets!”

Orion laughed with Nate, ignoring that there probably wasn’t anyone in town more boring than Rio himself. Sure, terrifying and arguably exciting things seemed to happen around him. But those all seemed adjacent to the hermit that Rio actually was. At least that’s how he wanted to be. Between the hunter heritage, the supernatural library and the part where he may or may not have murdered his parents he felt like he should be a lot more interesting than he actually was. “Well I can’t say that I’m not super boring. My book bag is filled with like twenty pounds of random history books and autobiographies. But I appreciate the compliment anyways.” Nate got sidetracked quickly, rushing into the back. Through the doors, Rio could hear him search until he pushed back out into the main area holding a tray of what looked to be some kind of tart or pastry. Rio’s face brightened, but he didn’t react until Nate actually named the sweets. “Oh my god. Did you say blueberry? You’re a god send.” Rio clapped excitedly, swinging the book bag off of his back and dropping it onto the floor with a heavy thud. Nate had always been open to asking Rio’s feedback on some of the new creations. When it came to sweets, Rio was practically a raccoon. He would eat just about anything Nate offered, and he usually ended up liking it. Though Nate must have picked up on how much Rio loved pairing blueberry in his pastries. “My two favorite things!” Rio raised a tart in the air before biting into it. The odd trio of flavors may have sounded strange, but the combination blended perfectly and Rio released a happy sigh after two more bites to finish the thing off. “Holy crap that’s so good. Thank you for sharing this!” Rio licked his lips of any leftover chocolate before speaking again, “The bread tasted a little different this time. Good, just different. Is it something new?”

Nate had always felt like Rio was a kindred spirit, and tonight was no different. “I don’t think that’s so boring,” he replied before taking a bite of his own tart. Nate loved his historical books, even if it seemed a bit lame at times. Biographies were some of the most interesting stories out there. “You know the saying, Stranger than Fiction?” He smiled, taking another bite. Man, he hit it out of the park with these. Nate closed his eyes for a moment, letting the flavors sink in. Baking was one of the few things that brought him complete and utter peace and this flipping tart was no different. He’d really have to make more of an effort to find his secret bread admirer, ‘cause this batch of yeast had done wonders for the recipe. “You really like it?” He asked through a mouthful of blueberries. He could always trust Rio to give him an honest review, but it seemed more and more likely that the kid was gonna enjoy anything he gave him. “I tried a new type of yeast,” he answered, his face falling a bit. “Can you really tell?” Sudden insecurity gripped him, pausing his glut fest mid bite. No...something else was gripping him...Nate’s eyes traveled down to the half eaten tart in his hand that seemed to now be grabbing his hand back. “U-uh...O-Orion?”

“I think you’re one of the few then.” Orion laughed, thinking on how many people would find something like reading biographies incredibly boring. Even if they knew the subject was supernatural. Luckily, Rio had found quite a few friends that appreciated his lackluster hobbies. Even if they themselves didn’t find it super interesting, they never held that against Rio. In fact, it came in handy sometimes. “Real life is definitely a lot weird than anything a fictional book could sell me.” Rio agreed, unsure how much Nate actually knew about how weird real life actually was. But now wasn’t the time to fall too deeply into that. Right now, he wanted to focus exclusively on enjoying these ridiculously good sweets that Nate had brought out to try. “Of course. It’s hard not to like something you make.” Rio admitted, savoring another bite before he tried to answer Nate’s question. Admittedly, Rio didn’t know if the enhanced senses included taste. But he knew that he had always been pretty good at picking out individual flavors. Plus, he actually tasted the flavoring in la croix. Apparently that wasn’t normal. “Oh uh- yeah it’s nothing bad. I’m just sensitive to-” Rio’s bad excuse for an explanation was cut off when Nate said his name again. Rio met his confused look and glanced down at his hand, the tart that was on it seemed to be… moving. And sticking onto the man’s arm. On instinct, Rio flung his own tart onto the ground and slid away from it. “Um. What is that?! Nate drop the tart!”

Talk about stranger than fiction. Nate’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he begun trying to flick the tart off his hand, his heart racing. “I can’t! I can’t get it off?!” All thoughts of how pleased he’d been to hear how much Rio had enjoyed his baking had dissipated, thrown out the window by tiny dough hands. “Get it off me!!” Nate flung his hand as hard as he could and the little tart thankfully flew off, landing with a dull smoosh on the counter. Apparently this act had betrayed their very existence as the half eaten tart was joined by the four untouched pastries. Gracelessly, they each sprouted a foot or a hand or an arm, limping around the counter with surprising speed. “What the heck- I’ve made a monster!!” Nate grabbed for a weapon, coming up with only a flour covered rolling pin. Better than nothing. He slammed it at the tiny monsters, wondering if Rio even saw these things too or if it was another of his hallucinations.

Orion was hopping back and forth from what foot to another, frantically waving his arms as he tried to figure out what the heck was going on. Nothing about monster bread had ever shown up in any of the Scribe books that he had read. Why hadn’t monster bread shown up? The passing thought that Rio would need to write his own entry only vaguely crossed his mind before he pushed it to the side to move beside Nate after he got the tart detached from his skin. The other tarts were starting to move now too, pieces of the bread morphing and extending into shapes resembling limbs. “What the-” Rio mumbled, trying to think of what could have possibly caused something like that. Nate grabbed a rolling pin and was smacking at the counter now while Rio stood back and stared at the man in a daze. “Be careful!” Rio finally yelled when he broke from the daydream. “How the heck is this happening right now?"

Judging by Rio’s reaction, Nate wasn’t the only one who could see the little creatures. At least that was a small relief, though the moment quickly faded as a tart-monster leapt off the counter, launching itself directly at Orion’s face. “Look out!!” Nate jumped back, slamming his rolling pin down on another tart, catching its little, deformed leg and flattening it. “I don’t know!! I- what are these things??” Panic swelled up inside him and Nate wondered if this is what people meant when they always said “oh yeah, anything can happen here in White Crest,” as if crazy nonsense like this occurred all the time. “I used- a new- yeast!” It was the only variable. When the delivery message said it was sentient, Nate didn’t take that literally. “Ah!” He yelped, jumping back from a one armed little tart that was eliciting what would arguably be an adorable sound as it attempted to tie Nate’s shoelaces together. “How do we make it stop??”

A piece of evil baked bread launched itself at Orion, but before he could move to swat it away a rolling pin swung down and smacked it midair. “Uh- Thanks” Rio stared at the splattered bakery item on the ground, still managing to slowly move as it slowly puffed itself up. “Great question. I wish I had a better answer.” He couldn’t help but think back to the watermelons that had tried to kill him and Skylar. Why was food so hell bent on murdering people in this town? Regardless, he made a mental note that he needed to try to look into an explanation after this. Not that now was the time to be scheduling study sessions. “New yeast. Right.” This was literally monster bread. Jesus Christ. “We uh-” He paused to consider their options. Hitting the things didn’t kill them. If they could piece themselves back together he wasn’t sure cutting them up would either. “Bake them? Like uh- for a long time?” Rio suggested, sliding forward and using his heel to stomp on a piece of bread trying to… trip Nate to death? Rio still wasn’t clear on their motives.

Nate had once been an athletic guy, never on the baseball team but he’d play in the yard with his brother all the time growing up. Never in a million years did he think any of those skills would come in handy regarding keeping him and his friend safe from literal murder bread. Every gremlin they smacked down or flattened seemed to immediately rise again and Nate cursed the gifted yeast. What a sick joke! “Burn them?” Nate’s face fell. Sure, it was probably their best option at stopping the things once and for all, but it hurt his baking heart to think of intentionally burning his newest recipe, especially when it had originally gotten such a glowing review from Rio. He wanted to cry, but was instantly derailed as he tripped over his shoelaces. “Ok - but let it be known I hate that I have to do this,” he whined, kicking his shoes off as quickly as possible. “Preheat that oven and turn it all the way up!” He pointed at the small convection oven behind the counter and began to try and pile all the little monsters up on a baking sheet.

“Noted!” Orion yelled, darting forward and vaulting over the bakery counter. He chalked it up to mostly dumb luck plus a decent amount of his own training that he had jumped and slid across the counter so easily instead of tripping and falling over it instead. Growing up, his body had always been quick to remind him that strength and agility didn’t fix clumsiness. Then again, adrenaline seemed to help his body work without relying too much on the anxiety frying his brain. He made his way to the oven, swatting away a piece of tart, an actual thing he actually had to do right now. This town was exhausting. Rio spun the dial of the oven, turning it as high as it could go. Another tart launching itself at Rio, grabbing onto his clothes and crawling up his shirt. “Ew, ew, ew” Rio repeated to himself as he slapped aimlessly around his body until he finally got hold of the baked good. He pulled it off and tossed it into the oven. It had only just begun heating, but Rio shut the door and made his way back to the counter. Couldn’t a two in the morning bakery run just be normal?

Trying to keep all the struggling tarts on one single surface was proving more difficult than Nate had imagined. Luckily Rio seemed to have gotten to the oven and though it wouldn’t be nearly hot enough just yet, they could at least start chucking some of these monsters in. “Here! Catch!” Nate flung the baking sheet up, attempting to toss the little beasts through the air and towards the oven, his eyes moving from his target only momentarily when he stomped down on a spare piece of dough that had fallen off. Abandoning the sheet, Nate started grabbing the few tarts that were left and started throwing them like it was the bottom of the ninth and his life depended on it. “Ok, last one then slam that door shut and pray this works!!”

As far as life dangers went, Orion didn’t think that creepy living bread made the list. Still, the idea of something he had just taken a bite out of was alive and moving was beyond unsettling. Rio heard Nate call out and he looked over in time to see a pan being flung in his direction. He darted forward, grabbing onto the pan and moving back over to crack the oven open enough for him to dump them inside. Before long, Nate had started chucking the bread in Rio’s direction. Rio grabbed what he could, dropping them in and bending down to scoop up any that he missed. Finally, Nate was done. A quick glance around told them that they had grabbed all of the remaining pieces that could be seen. Rio left the oven closed, resting against it to make sure that it stayed closed. The little monsters didn’t seem particularly strong, but he wasn’t ready to take any chances. He didn’t look at the window into the oven. He didn’t want to see them against the glass, trying to get out. Bread or not, he had no interest in watching something that moved get burnt to a crisp. “So uh… this was pretty weird, right?”

Nate deflated against the counter, wiping off a few crumbs from his face. “Weird is an understatement, I think…” He dropped his head onto the wood, his cheek squishing against the cool surface. “I don’t- I’ve never...have you??” He couldn’t even begin to describe what he’d seen. It didn’t make any rational sense. As the adrenaline poured out of his body, no longer needed to keep him in defense mode, Nate felt himself sink to the floor like a puddle. To say this was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him might be a lie, but this wasn’t like when he looked at some people around town and they looked like horrific monsters. That was a hallucination, something wrong with his actual brain. These...Rio had seen these too. Nate looked up at his friend. “What would do something like that?? How is that r-real?”

Orion refused to take any pressure off of the oven door. He didn’t think the now crisping pieces of living bread had the strength to open the door, but they were also all stuffed in there together. He had seen enough gross horror movies to know that weird things like that could combine together and grow in size or something else equally awful. His plan was to keep this door closed until the things in there looked like charcoal. Only problem was that he didn’t actually want to look to see what they looked like. “No. Definitely never seen anything like that. That was a first.” He really thought that he had reached some sort of imaginary wall in terms of being surprised by supernatural creatures. Good to know the bar could always be set higher. “So judging by your reaction I’m going to guess that your bread does not do that on the regular?” Surprisingly, Rio found himself almost amused by the situation. For someone who was constantly freaking out about everything, Rio was a bit confused by his own reaction. Though he supposed in the grand scheme of things, the bread wasn’t nearly as deadly as most of the other things that Rio got attacked by. “That honestly makes me feel so much better about how often I eat here. I was about to be a bit worried.”

Nate almost laughed, running his hands through his hard. “No...no randomly coming to life is usually not on my menu.” He scooted up to his knees, peering over the counter at the oven. From here, it didn’t look like there was any movement within, but Nate was glad that Orion seemed to have the same thought about not leaving the oven door unattended. He cracked an exhausted, waning adrenaline smile. “Why, you think I should add it? I think they’ll be a crowd pleaser!” It was impossible not to make light of what had just happened. It was just...entirely ludicrous. Nate half expected himself to be dreaming. “I don’t normally make a habit out of using random ingredients...but…” Nate shoved himself to his feet and started rustling through a drawer, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper and handing it to Rio.

“CONGRATULATIONS. We heard you like to BAKE. A friend has subscribed you to WEEKLY DELIVERIES of SENTIENT BREAD. Please ENJOY this PAINED SOURDOUGH BREAD STARTER. We look forward to sending you more SENTIENT BREAD. We CONGRATULATE you.”

“I got this about a month ago and...well this is the yeast I used to make those tarts...this is just a joke, right?”

Orion laughed sarcastically, emitting a sigh as he still struggled to capture his breath. This hadn’t been particularly exhausting physically, but the whole ordeal had drained him. It didn’t help that it was the middle of the night. “Yeah I uh- think it’ll get a real rise out of customers.” Rio cringed at his own joke and made a mental note that puns probably weren’t for him. He grabbed onto the piece of paper that Nate offered and read it over multiple times. What the heck was this? And who would send it? And why were there so many capital letters? “So someone sent this to you? I guess… as a joke?” Rio didn’t find it particularly funny personally, but to each their own. Admittedly, the bread hadn’t exactly been dangerous. At least, not that they had seen. Maybe this was all some sort of weird prank? Fae could be particularly mischievous, maybe this was all some elaborate ruse? “I mean, if it is a joke I don’t really get their sense of humor.” Rio laughed nervously and scratched at the back of his head, “But I guess it could be? Maybe you shouldn’t use anymore of it though?” Rio tossed the note onto the countertop and sighed again. What a night.

Nate couldn’t help but snort at the pun. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe he was just losing his mind, but making jokes right now felt like the right thing to do. He slumped against the counter, his head resting on his hands. “I don’t think it was so funny either...but also I didn’t think sentient bread was a real flipping thing.” His brows furrowed as he glanced behind Rio to see how crispy the critters were getting. “I’m definitely not gonna use any more of it.” He looked up at Rio sadly. “Please promise me you’ll keep eating my desserts...I promise they’re not all animated and trying to kill you.”

By some miracle, the box that Nate had packed for Orion had survived the chaos and was left mostly untouched by the creepy bread. He could see it on the counter  Looking through the box, Rio laughs slightly and closes it again, leaving it on the counter. After what felt like an acceptable amount of time, he finally took a step away from the oven, slowly pulling his arm away and ready to press up against it at any moment. But he didn’t have to. There was no resistance against the oven door. Whatever those things had been, Rio didn’t think they were going to be moving anymore. “Don’t worry. It’s going to take a lot more than some living bread for me to give this place up. Your food is too good.” He grinned, but there was a sigh behind it. The late hour was finally catching up to him, the adrenaline finally wearing off. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go ahead and pay for my stuff and head out. It’s pretty late. And I wasn’t expecting… that.”

Nate ran a hand down his face and looked at the oven apprehensively. Rio stepped away and nothing came crashing out, thankfully, but the baker wasn’t ready to turn off the heat just yet. “Oh good,” he breathed with a sigh of relief. “Of course! Of course, actually y’know this one’s on the house. I uh...consider it a promotion for trying my last new delicacy ever.” Nate slid the box closer to Rio and grabbed a broom, setting about clearing up what he could before he left for the night. There was no way he was doing his full closing checklist, not after the attempted murder via baked goods, but he could at least get some crumbs up while he waited for those things to get even a little more crispier. “Seriously,” he led his friend out, flipping his open sign to closed. “Thanks for being here...I can’t imagine dealing with those things by myself. And I swear to never use mysterious baking supplies ever again.” Now he just had to figure out where he put the rest of that tearful pumpkin...

[broken-heroes-and-potatoes]

Drunk headcanon for Bakugou, Todoroki and Iida ? 👉👈

Of course and thank you for the request!

Katsuki Bakugou - The silent I’am sober but in fact, I’am totally not.

- B52 or anything with rum flamed, what is bad when Bakugo drinks rum? He doesn’t have a f*cking memory of the night.

- We could have think a drunk Bakugo would be a worse version of a sober himself, angrier and noisier, but to everyone surprise, it’s in fact, the opposite.

- As the lines of glass empty, he gets quieter and quieter, sprawling on the back of his chair, his arms along his body, watching the table with big open eyes and not the envy, nor the strenght, nor maybe the capacity to move.

- He tries to act cool, as if everything’s fine, he nods when people talk to him and even smiles when he hears laugh around him, but in real? He doesn’t even have a single idea of what happens.

- Words are like rockets flying way too faster in front of his eyes and his brain can’t focus on conversations, it grabs one words out of three and by the time Bakugo tries to understand the nonsens of a sentence without all the words, the topic already changed.

- When things gets too complicated for his brain to follow, he takes out his phone and tries to put all of his concentration on the screen, even if he feels like his eyes are teared off with the white light.. well after the real challenge of unlocking it of course.

- He puts it down and takes it back at least 10 times because he forgets why he just took out his phone. 15 minutes of scrolling down on his youtube timeline without noticing he’s not on fb, 5 minutes liking and dislinking pictures of the night in which he’s tagged because his thumb stays too long on the screen and then, he finally find something that should probably stay far, far away from his fingers.. texts.

- He spends half of his time trying to type correct texts which ends in a total mess with so much typo that a descrambler is needed. All the texts are finally sent to the wrong persons, incomprehensible or just not sent at all and saved as draft, but in all the case, with too much emojis. It’s sad because if his brain was working correctly, it’s the better time to have him confess deep feelings.

- Breaks, forgets or losts his phone each time he’s drunk.

- Even if he’s totally stoned, his body tells him when to stop and he practically never throw up, but, when he begins to feel sleepy, he displays the path to his room for an ungodly amount of time in his head before getting up because everything lookis like a maze.

- He will either, colapse on his chair/the table and nothing can wake him up, by nothing, I mean nothing, you could build a house of card on his cheeks or turn up the sound really loud, he would not bat an eyelash.

- Either a charitabe soul would have take him to his bed before he losts consciousness and he falls asleep fully clothes, and wakes up in the exact same position 16 hours later.

- He doesn’t remember anything about the night and acts as if he had never sent weird texts to everyone, or agreed to making Sero’s bento for a whole week and a foot massage to Kirishima after the next trainning.

Shoto Todoroki - The naked philosopher

-  Frozen Vodka with a slice of lime, pretty useful, because the drink rests on the good temperature as long as he keeps the glass in his hand

- Shoto is more the kind of guy who just looks around, listens and enjoys a party without a real «participations», things change as soon as the alcohol works on him and begins to redden the skin on the top of his nose and ears

- He smiles at first, begins to take part in conversations and then pulls off extra layers of clothes because he’s feeling like boiling on the inside.. even if he’s just in shirt and pants.

- Someone will have to stay by his side to prevent him to strip fully or he’ll end in just his underwear, wandering and talking casually as if nothing was wrong.

- You wouldn't have believed but that guy talks, A LOT, when he’s drunk, and as soon as he has someone he feels comfortable with next to him, he won’t let go of them for the whole night. Even if you go refill your glass, if you’re exhausted or if you have to pee, he’ll follow you, everywhere.

- The conversation seems really deep and intelligent seen from the outside, but it’s just a bunch of mixed theories about feelings, the role of human being on earth and what’s wrong with pineapple on pizza.

- Forgets to put the lemon in the glass and directly bites in it, doesn’t even have a reaction, he stopped talking for five second though’

-  He spends his night igniting everyone’s shooters

- Someone will finally leads him to some fresh air, and it’s the only time of the night where he stops talking, he sits cross-legged on the ground and watch the stars, even if he stops exchanging with other, he lives an internal debate that only him can understand, or not.

- Please, don’t forget to go get him back or he’ll just stay here for hours until the alcool effects fade or that he falls asleep and wakes the next afternoon.

- Everything’s fine the next day, he’s not the first nor the last to get up and the room is already clean because he’s the one who tidied everything last night while doing a monologue. He remembers having a great night and good conversations with everyone, but can’t remember a single one of them.

Tenya Iida - The grumpy sentimental unicorn

- Gets drunk with fancy rainbow coktails, the ones with umbrella and candy screwer on it.

- As he’s too polite to refuse to give his candies to his crush and friends when he’s sober, don’t even thing of putting your hand between him and the sweets when he’s drunk because he could bite your finger without a single regret.

- And he gets drunk really quickly because he’s a light weight, and because he doesn’t even realize the huge quantity of alcohol he drops with all the sugar present in the drinks, to be honest, he doesn’t even know he’s drinking alcohol..

- Iida is like a grumpy old man when he has too much glasses, he grumbles to himself, talks with his glass, bitches about the stool because it’s not comfortable enough, about the music being too loud even if there’s no music in the room and about the person who, according to him, stole his glasses even if, it’s still on his nose.

- He’s a real mess.

- He won’t recognize anyone and probably ends up confessing his love to Kirishima while sobbing and telling his crush that they should stop fighting Deku because of childhood bitterness still present between the two of them.

- Yep, Team Vomit here. It burns his throat like hell but hey’ at least, it’s festive with all of these colors, looks like a unicorn had stop by.

- Someone has to put him to bed, and he’s already half asleep by the time he reaches the room, he's a dead weight to drag.

- Wakes up the next morning at 9 a.m, wishing to die because of the hangover and the embarrassment.

[tirednotflirting]

i am missing you more than i should (guess i'm not out of the woods)

i attempted to post this to ao3 and then the page crashed so tumblr gets some rights today i guess.

this is another addition to the maisie thing i’m working on. title and inspo from look at me now by maisie peters 

read here on ao3 if you wanna

(it’s kinda emo i apologize)

It’s a cold November night when Luke sees Calum again.

Despite the outdoor temperature being displayed on his phone screen, Luke is warm from the alcohol in his belly and the bodies milling around the bar. He’s ordered a drink to feel natural in his current setting but it’s just soda and lime. He’s stepped into this place to wait for Ashton to come pick him up. He had read one top many horror stories about ride share apps and young drunken people and now always gripes at Luke for not calling him for a pick up on a night out. So after watching all of his friends (though that’s kind of a stretch for the people he frequents clubs with) head off into the night, Luke wandered to the place he currently sits at, feeling drawn to the little dive bar he hasn’t been to in ages and sent Ashton his location.

It’s while he’s waiting for his drink that he remembers why he was drawn to this bar. This is Calum’s place. Luke can’t even think up how many pairs of hands he would need to count the number of times they had stumbled into this place, laughing with their arms around each other while tripping their way up to the bar. It’s close to the complex Calum had been living in while they were still in school. Seeing him here now at the other end of the bar, the glitter in his eyes shining even though they’re not taking a single glance in his direction, makes Luke wonder if Calum’s stuck around this area of town.

Because of course Luke wouldn’t know. Luke hasn’t said a single word to the man in ages, hasn’t seen him in probably a year and a half at this point. (He’s tempted to pull out his dying phone to find the last text messages they exchanged to track the time but he knows Ashton probably deleted their messages during one of the many times he ended up on the other man’s couch with tears raining down his cheeks.) 

We want different things. That’s what Calum had told him. Luke wanted to see the world. They were about to graduate, he wanted to see everything and he wanted to see it all with Calum. The idea of settling any part of his still mess of a young life scared the hell out of him. Luke wanted to run but he wanted to do it with Calum’s hand holding his own. Calum was so practical, his mind somehow years ahead of Luke’s. They were graduating, it was time to slow down, he was always trying to explain to the boy he’d laughed with and loved for the last four years. The speeds they were trying to live their lives at during those last few months pretty much started pulling them in opposite directions, Luke supposes. Though that didn’t change how much it hurt the day he returned to his apartment to find a box of his clothes and belongings sitting in front of the door with a little note tucked into the side.

Luke had stuck to his plan. It was only in the last couple of months that he’d returned to the city and found a job more permanent, reconnected with Ashton who had stuck it out in the area for law school. He had seen so many places, so many people, so many pairs of brown eyes that had him nearly chasing after strangers on the other side of the world. He hadn’t dared to try to love someone else but eventually his brain stopped trying to play tricks on him to make him see what he had lost because he couldn’t just slow down. Eventually he didn’t wake every morning expecting to see someone curled up beneath the sheets beside him or to walk into the kitchen to find the ever studious business major drinking from the blue mug with the chip in the handle as he checked the news on his phone

Though from what he could see down the bar, Calum hadn’t been on his own since Luke saw him last. Or at least he wasn’t right now. 

Luke watches a laugh escape Calum’s lips while he reaches for his glass on the bartop (always a whiskey man, Luke was never not teasing him for his old man drink preferences). He takes a sip and then raises his brows, his lips moving to ask a question Luke can still hear rolling off his tongue if he thinks back hard enough. He watches the glass get passed along to the blonde sitting in front of him and facing away from Luke. The glittering in Calum’s eye changes some as his bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth while a smirk forms on one side of his face. Luke can see the other man’s shoulders rise slightly in response to taking the sip and he wonders if the scrunched up face he used to pull when sipping Calum’s liquor is anything like this new man’s. He figures it must be as Calum’s face softens in a still vaguely familiar way and Luke watches him lean forward to press a kiss to the blonde’s cheek while a hand lifts to cover the other. 

Luke squeezes his eyes shut and forces his face away from the couple. He takes a sip of his soda before shrugging his denim jacket from his arms, the bar suddenly feeling far too warm. He’s reaching for his phone in the pocket of his jacket, ready to send Ashton an SOS to get him to hurry along, when a soft voice behind him nearly throws him to the opposite side of the bar. “Luke?”

He jumps as he spins in the stool he’s seating in, Luke’s eyes suddenly meeting the ones he’s been searching for in every corner of the world. He used to spend hours lying awake thinking about this exact moment, about what it would be like to speak again for the first time with his lost great love. (If Ashton were able to hear him thinking that he would scold Luke for being so dramatic. You’re literally 24. Calm down, Luke.) “Hi, Calum,” he returns, praying his voice isn’t as shaky as it feels. The name feels foreign on his tongue and he can’t tell if he’s thankful for that or not.

“How’re you doing, man?” Calum asks, a small smile playing at his lips. “It’s wild to see you in here, not gonna lie. Thought you were still off somewhere with your wanderlust.”

Luke tries to be as subtle as he can as he reaches for his wrist to pinch himself since he’s not entirely sure he believes this moment to be real. He coughs and shakes himself out of his daze. He’s got to be an adult about all of this, he’s a grown up now. “Yeah, I moved back a couple months ago. Was starting to really stress out Mom with the whole travel thing. I’ve moved in with Ashton, if you remember him? He helped me get this admin job at the law firm he’s interning at.”

“Of course I remember Ash!” Calum beams. Luke wonders if he’s also playing at being cool but then he remembers that Calum actually had the guts to walk over to him so maybe this is just a part of being settled down. “Happy for you, Luke. Sounds like a good set up.”

Luke ignores the nostalgia threatening to cloud up his mind at the sound of his name falling from Calum’s lips a second time. “You still working for Donny then?”

“I am! He gave me like, a month after grad to chill before I got back to my old desk with a stack two feet high of files,” Calum laughs and Luke finds himself doing the same. Calum’s internship boss had always been fond of them together. Donny had once helped Luke get flowers delivered for their third anniversary. He was a good guy. “Actually, just got promoted to Managing Financial Advisor earlier this week. Was here, uh, celebrating tonight wit-”

“Hey Cal, thought I lost you there.”

The blonde Luke had only seen the back of before steps into view, his hand dropping to Calum’s back. He’s just barely shorter than Calum, though that’s likely due to the boots the latter is wearing. His eyes are wide and a pale green, like leaves in early spring. Luke wants to hate him but he can’t. This guy looks pretty nice, unfortunately. 

“Sorry, love,” Calum replies softly, his hand lifting subconsciously to push hair from the other man’s eyes. It’s an action Luke remembers fondly (and somewhat painfully, if he’s being honest with himself). “Found a familiar face. Michael, this is Luke. Luke, this is Michael.”

Michael’s eyes widen just the slightest bit. Luke isn’t surprised. He can basically guarantee that he’s sitting right at the top of Calum’s ex-boyfriends to discuss list. They spent nearly all of undergrad together. If Michael’s been around for even a little bit it makes sense that he’s heard about Luke. “Nice to meet you, mate.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Luke accepts the hand being offered to shake. The whole situation feels way too formal but also dazed. Though Luke is still drunk and there’s way too many memories dancing through his mind of nights out with Calum and nights in with Calum and Calum Calum Calum. 

“Well,” Calum starts, his hand moving to rest lower against Michael’s back. “Our Uber is here but I’m glad I saw you Luke. Take care of yourself.”

Luke nods and wishes them both the same in a small voice while they wander away from him. He can’t hear it but based on the worried look he can see on Michael’s face as they head for the door and the way he wraps his arm more firmly around Calum’s waist, Luke knows he wasn’t the only one faking a brave face. 

(He allows himself a moment to give into memory then as he thinks back on one of the last times he was headed out of this bar with Calum. It was early February, just a week and change past Calum’s birthday. The air is cold enough to see their breaths as they giggle and bumble about their new courses. Calum keeps lifting Luke’s hands between his own to blow warm air onto them to keep them warm as they head in the direction of his apartment. 

When they finally make it up to the third floor and through Calum’s door, they both kick off their boots. Luke’s gone for his easier to remove ones so he has a moment to lean against the door while laughing as Calum pulls at the laces of his Docs. Once removed, Calum steps over to Luke, his arms looping around his waist while Luke’s drop to hang over his shoulders. Their laughter dies out as they sway back and forth slightly in the entryway. 

“God, I love you,” Luke sighs as he drops his forehead to Calum’s. “Never want to stop loving you.”

“Please don’t.” Calum laughs gently before turning his head so their lips press together. 

Whether it's seconds or hours that they stand there kissing while holding each other in the dull entryway light, Luke doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. All that matters is that Calum never lets go.)

Luke’s phone buzzes on the bartop, a text from Ashton appearing to alert him that he’s waiting in the lot out front. Luke tips back the last of his soda and shouts a thank you to the bartender. He pulls on his jacket and heads in the direction of the door.

He turns for a moment before reaching to push through back out into the cold. He glances around the open room, quick moments of memories playing out in front of him from the years before. He sighs and pulls himself out of it again. 

Maybe it’s time to find a new spot to land.

*

[rightsockjin]

Part 2 of day 1

Summary: A continuation of the first day. Jungkook has appeared at Paradise with his tail between his legs. Namjoon has become your confidant, that's not to say that you aren’t attracted to him. Find out who else is at paradise! The first date card appears and the romance had finally begun.

Rating: K+ (suggestive)

Genre: Romance, Slight Angst

Word count: 7,214

This really should have been part of the first chapter and starting after this, I will be updating in days. So this is still day one. Next update will be day 2 and so on. Hope you enjoy!

Last time on Bangtan in Paradise:

Y/N arrived at Paradise with producer Kim Namjoon. She felt like she had been looked over in the last bachelor show she was on and the only person she didn’t want to see at Paradise was her ex. Jeon Jungkook.

“I just really hope that Jungkook isn’t here. After the last season…I just don’t want to see him. I didn’t have a lot of time on the show but he just felt so…disingenuous and shallow. He was nothing like what I thought he would be like.”

She got off on the wrong foot with two girls-

        “Stay away from them and we should be good. ‘Kay?”

Things got a little… steamy.

        Like a magnetic force, you felt yourself lean down. Taehyung was reaching up too, his wet hand was now at your neck. It was like a spell. You would never have done something like this before. You were always the kind of person to take things slow, but you had six weeks to fall in love and you realized that maybe you would have to speed up your regular process. Would you regret this later? Maybe. But in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

And the one thing that she didn’t want to happen...happened.

“Hey Y/N,” another voice cut across Namjoon. You turned towards it to see that most of the people who had been hanging out by the Cabana were now making their way towards you. Amongst them, was none other than Jeon Jungkook.

What will happen next? Find out now! On Bangtan in Paradise!

        You must have looked ridiculous. Standing in the hot tub, half wet and half dry with your hair up and a slight white cast on your upper body from the sun screen you had just applied. Producer Namjoon was bent down so he could speak to you and to better reach your back. It must have been a weird sight. Somehow, it felt like they had walked in on you and Namjoon the way that Namjoon had walked in on you and Taehyung as you were about to kiss.

        Your eyes shoot directly to those same brown ones that you had once thought you would fall in love with. Jungkook was near the back of the group, next to another man who you recognized from an old season of Bachelor in Paradise. Though at the time, his hair had been orange and now his hair was a sandy blonde. His name was Jimin, you thought and it for some reason didn’t surprise you that he seemed close to Jungkook already. He too had made the wrong choice in a partner and they broke up not long after they got engaged.

        Next you looked at Taehyung. There was a smug look on his face. A part of you wondered if he had brought everyone over here on purpose. Namjoon had specifically said that he needed to speak with you in private and within minutes, everyone decided to migrate towards the pool area?

        The situation was a little sketchy but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Why would Taehyung want to interrupt you?

        “Are we interrupting something,” Seokjin asked, looking from you to the producer who instantly jumped back.

        “Uh no. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that her mic didn’t short out since she had gotten in the hot tub without removing it. I have to replace it now so I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t let me stop you from mingling.”

        Before you could say anything to Namjoon, he ran away and out of sight of the cameras. He had tried to warn you about Jungkook. That was twice already that he stuck his neck out for you. He was smart too. The first time he had done it through writing so the cameras couldn’t hear his advice to you, and now, he had done it when you had inadvertently short circuited your mic. Why was he trying to help you so much? And why had he acted so comfortable with Taehyung?

        “So why are you in the hot tub in your dress?” Yoongi asked, from next to a man you hadn’t yet spoken to. He was a little taller than the psychologist, his features were a little sharp and his hair was parted down the middle. With the setting sun it was hard to tell what color his hair really was but it seemed auburn. He was handsome.

        “Uh, well, Taehyung kind of threw me in here. That’s why he’s wet as well,” you chuckled as everyone turned to a now slightly red cheeked man. That was when you noticed that he was holding hands with that brunette girl from earlier. All the blood rushed out of your face. Wasn’t it just minutes ago that you guys had almost kissed?

        Maybe you were being a little too sensitive about this all. He was getting to know people. That was the point of this show. You couldn’t let yourself get jealous so quickly.

        The smile on her face made you sick to your stomach but you pushed the feeling away and found Alex in the crowd. She was standing next to another man you hadn’t spoken to. He had blue hair and was obviously very tall. They seemed to have become close but they didn’t seem romantic. At least not yet.

        “So you’re the reason that she’s all wet,” Seokjin asked, his hands on his hips. Taehyung smirked but before he could say anything Yoongi elbowed him hard in the ribs.

        “Ow hyung! That was right on the bone,” he yelled. The brunette glared at Yoongi and pulled on Teahyung’s arm.

        “Come on Taehyungie! I think I saw a nice bed over there by the trees! Let’s go talk! You promised.”

        Ew. What a… You tried not to laugh at the girl’s outburst, but the humor of the situation was sucked from the conversation when Taehyung saluted and let her pull him away.

        “Guess I’m going to soak alone then,” you joked as he walked away and people began to go their own ways.

        “Lucky for you that you have Seokjin,” Jin said, walking over to the edge of the tub, “We can seok together.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you took his hand and he easied you out. With every step you took out of the water, your dress stuck closer and closer to your skin. It was heavy for such a lightweight dress. The dress had been form fitting to an extent but now, it was plastered to your sides. Your hips swayed as you took the last step out of the hot tub. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes on you.

        Fear ran through you. Was your dress… see through? You froze choosing to look at Jin instead of behind you. It wasn’t a whole lot of help. Seokjin was looking down at your body, his mouth hanging wide open. Gawking.

        “Jin, please tell me my dress isn’t see-through right now.”

        Jin’s eyes snapped up to your face, “What no! No it’s not that it's just…” he gulped, pulling you towards him and flipping your body so that he was hiding you from the rest of the men in the resort. He didn’t seem to care that your dress was getting his shorts wet. He held you close to his body.

        “It’s really just plastered to your skin. I suggest you go and change if you don’t want people to stare.”

        Finally, you allowed yourself to look down. Jin was right. It wasn’t that your dress was transparent per se. It was more that now that it was wet, it stuck to every nook and crevice of your body and while you weren’t insecure and you knew you would at some point be in a swimsuit, there was something strangely provocative about the way the dress clung to your skin in the beachy heels you had on.

        “Does it look trashy,” you asked, keeping yourself as close to Jin as you could. His face was only inches from yours and while the warmth of the tub and the lure of Paradise made you feel a little out of character, you were much more concerned about the multitude of eyes that you felt on your ass.

        “God if this is trashy I think I’m going to live in a dump from now on,” Seokjin said, something akin to lust in his brown eyes similar to the way he had gawked at that Julie girl.

        You felt a shiver run down your spine. This was what you had come for. You  realized he was wrapped around your finger in that moment. If you said “jump”, he would ask “how high?” Still, you had made a deal with yourself when it came to situations such as these. You needed at least one date. One date and then you would let yourself loose. This was only the first day. You couldn’t.

        “Maybe I should go change,” you conceded, “even you seem to be drooling Seokjin.”

        Instantly, like he had been burned, he pulled away a little from your body and shot his hand up to his lips. It was when you started to giggle that Jin’s face relaxed having caught onto your teasing.

        “Hey! I’m trying to help you, you know?”

        “I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “Thank you for shielding me from the rest of the strangers at this location. Out of all the strangers, I’m glad it was you that noticed my predicament.”

        “Keep that in mind when you have a date card baby,” he winked at you and you tried not to let the excitement show on your face.

        “Now, you really should go change before your predicament turns into my predicament,” he said suggestively.

        “Right,” you agreed breathlessly, looking over his unbelievably wide shoulders only to see that most of the guys with the exception of one, were talking to other women or eachother.

        Jungkook was alone. He was drinking what looked like a Corona beer with a slice of lime in his left hand. He had a far away look in his eyes as he watched the interaction between you and Jin. To be honest, it confused you.

        Shaking your head, you smiled at Jin softly. He had definitely caught your attention tonight and if you got a date card, you were for sure going to pursue this connection. Taehyung quite obviously had other things to worry about.

        “Thanks for your help Seokjin. I’ll remember that.” You reached up and placed a soft kiss on his perfect cheek before you peeled yourself away from his now sodden front and, with all the determination you could muster,  sashayed towards the yellow villa.

        When you felt that you were a safe enough distance away from the rest of the group, you let your shoulders drop. Already, the weight of the cameras was taking a toll on you. You remembered it not so fondly from the last time.

        The way that it always felt like people were watching because even if it wasn’t live, they were. All the footage was combed through painstakingly by the editors and anything could be aired, whether you were clothed or naked. If you were alone or had company. Anything was fair game.

        Why you had agreed once again to a show of this sort was beyond you. You must be crazy.

        As you got closer to the many doors  in the outside hallway of the villa, you realized that your personal handler, or what had he called himself? Brother? You scoffed at your own train of thought. If you had a brother that good looking you would be the most unlucky woman in the world.

        Namjoon hadn’t told you which room was yours. You groaned. Why hadn’t you thought to ask? Were the arrangements similar to that of the bachelor? Were the girls and guys separate? If so, why were there so many rooms?

        Awkwardly, you knocked on the door nearest you. When you didn’t get an answer, you tried the door knob. It gave way easily but upon inspection, this room belonged to a man for sure. There was a half zipped luggage bag on the bed and a bottle of protein on the desk. Already, there were some boxers on the floor next to a pair of shoes.

        You closed the door quickly, not wanting to invade anyone’s privacy. You walked towards the next door, bracing yourself for what you may see. You were about to knock on the door when someone tapped on your shoulder. You jumped against the wall, your dress sticking to the wall awkwardly. Your heart hammered against your chest.

        Your eyes met Namjoon’s through his thick glasses. He seemed a little uncomfortable and he was determined on keeping his eyes on your face. For some reason, this gave you a little bit of a confidence boost. Maybe it was because he wasn’t under any pressure to find a girl to give him a rose so he could stay for another week and therefore, his reluctance to look down made you feel that you genuinely looked good. This is what you told yourself at least.

        “Producer Namjoon, you scared the crap out of me.”

        “Why are you calling me producer Namjoon?” He asked, ignoring your remark. You frowned.

        “Well that’s what you are right? Producer? Or should I call you oppa based on your previous suggestion?” You smiled coyly at him, twirling a strand of hair that framed your face around a finger. You flirtily bit your lip before you realized that this man was not a part of the game once again. You needed to be more conscious of that.

        Namjoon blushed then scratched the back of his neck looking up at the light on the ceiling.

        “I mean… no. It’s just that everyone just calls me Namjoon. I was just curious as to why…”

        “I was being polite,” you cut him off, dropping your hair and crossing your arms over your chest.

        “It’s not necessary. Just call me Namjoon.”

        “Okay yeah fine. Namjoon,” at the sound of his name, he brought his sight back to your face, “You didn’t mention to me what room I’m in and if you haven’t noticed,” you looked down at yourself, the water was now cool and awkward to stand in, “I’m wet.”

        “Yeah, I was there. Let me show you where it is.”

        Namjoon reached out as if to grab your hand but he seemed to think better of it and instead gestured for you to follow. This time, when you took a step, your dress made an awkward unsticking noise that Namjoon noticed. You felt yourself blush but Namjoon only stiffened for a second then kept walking.

        You followed as closely as you dared. Your legs had started to rub uncomfortably together. This mishap was starting to feel a lot less sexy and a lot more annoying. You both walked past a good amount of rooms before Namjoon stopped in front of a green door with a small peep hole and a polished golden number seven.

        “This is your room”, he twisted the door open and revealed what lay behind. It wasn’t extravagant really. It was a room, and a bed and a small desk. Your luggage was neatly placed by the door and it smelled just like a hotel. There was an air freshener on the desk that made the whole room smell like coconuts and what you thought was hibiscus. Luxury, it was not, but it was cozy enough for one person and you didn’t foresee anyone staying the night. It would do fine for the duration of your stay.

        “Thank you,” you sighed, stepping in and dragging your suitcase onto the bed. It was a little heavy but you were stronger than you looked. Without really thinking it through, you unzipped the suitcase and threw it open. It was when you heard Namjoon gasp and turn on his heels that you realized he was still standing there and in clear view was all of the underwear you had brought to Mexico.

        You didn’t know how to react. You glanced at Namjoon’s back. His shoulders were hunched a little like he wanted to shrink himself down or hide. You could see his neck was tinted red.

        “Did-did you need something,” you asked, as if he hadn’t just seen what he did. Maybe if you pretended that it didn’t happen, then you could move on from the awkwardness.

        “I uh…I came to give you your…,” he trailed off. The surrounding air was still and the only sound was that of the waves. You turned back to your bag and picked out a high waisted purple swimsuit with a checkered black and white top that knotted right at the center of your chest. You also pulled out a pair of paper bag shorts.

        “My…?”

        It was another five seconds before language seemed to return to Namjoon, “Mic. You’re mic! Since the other one is ruined. That’s why I was looking for you.”

        “Oh,” you said, more than anything to fill the silence, “Okay well, let me just change and then I’ll be out.”

        “Right, yeah, okay.”

        The door clicked behind him but he didn’t move away. Relief fell over you like a blanket as you slowly began to unbutton all the buttons on your dress. There were like twenty but you weren’t really in any rush. You took your time loosening them. Your imagination ran wild. In a matter of six weeks, someone else could be unbuttoning your dress and your jeans. There could be a ring on your finger and you could right well be on your way to a life with a husband and a family.

        “Is- is everything okay in there,” Namjoon asked from behind the door.

        “Yeah I’m fine. My dress is just hard to unbutton,” you said honestly, “ it’s really wet so it’s sticky.”

        When there wasn’t an immediate answer, you assumed that the conversation was over. You unbuttoned the buttons on your stomach with a bit more haste. Namjoon probably had things to do. He was stuck there until he strapped a new mic to your body.

        “Do…uh… do you need help?”

        You could almost see him cringe at his own offer. You wanted to believe that he was genuinely just trying to be helpful, but he had seen your dress right? He realized that all the buttons were right down the middle of your body and ran all the way down to the floor right? Suddenly, you weren’t sure if Namjoon was trying to be helpful or if he was coming onto you.

        “Actually never mind, I just realized how inappropriate that was. I’m sorry. Let me know when you’re done.”

        “Okay.”

        When you got to your hips, you shimmied the rest of the way out of the dress. It plopped unattractively on the floor of the room. You’d have to find a washing machine later so that the chlorine of the hot tub didn’t damage the fabric, but for now, you picked it up and hung it on the back of the only chair in the room. Water dripped from it onto the floor. You grimaced. Oh well. That was a problem for future you.

        You stripped out of your panties and your bra and slipped into the swim suit, then into the shorts. You pulled the hair tie out of your hair. It was a little wet from when Taehyung threw you into the water, but the curls were still intact. You assumed that you would be fine with your hair down for the rest of the night. Regardless, you kept the hair tie on your wrist for emergencies.

        When you pulled at the door to open it, Namjoon stumbled backwards into the room as if he had been leaning on the door. He flailed his arms to try and regain his balance, his eyes wide with fear.

        You reached out and took hold of his arm to steady him. Namjoon held on to you for dear life with strong fingers.

        “Are you okay,” you asked once he was firmly on both feet. He held onto your forearm, the heat of his body transferring into your own.

        “Yeah…I didn’t expect you to be done yet.”

        “Were you leaning on the door?”

        Namjoon smiled awkwardly, “Yes, sorry, my feet hurt. I’ve been working since the morning and we don’t really have a lot of breaks.”

        “What did you do before you went to pick me up,” You asked, letting go of his arm. Namjoon blinked down at where your arm had been touching yours as if he had forgotten that he was touching you.

        “Uh well, Taehyung came in earlier than you so I picked him up and did about the same things I did with you later.”

        “Oh, so you are his caretaker as well?”

        Namjoon chuckled at the phrasing and crossed his arms over his weirdly toned chest. He shook his head.

        “Yes, I guess you could say that, though he is much less okay with it than you seem to be. I’m sure you noticed earlier when I interrupted you.”

        “What? No. He called you hyung didn’t he?”

        Namjoon sighed then shrugged, “I think he was just being polite. When I mentioned to him that I was in charge of him and I could hear and see everything he was doing…he seemed less than happy. He’s a good kid, don’t get me wrong- I say that as if I’m twenty years older than him or something-but he’s just shut off? I don’t know. It’s probably not my place to say.”

        A shock of discomfort went through you. You thought back to how quickly things had gotten heated with you and Taehyung and how equally quickly he became cold and went off with the rude brunette. Were you just being sensitive? It was the first day after all.

        An uncomfortable silence followed his small monologue in which you looked at the floor already slightly hurt by the actions of the men in the house. It was at that moment that you once again realized why you had hesitated to come onto this show after the last time. You were a ‘one man woman’ and you expected the same from your potential boyfriends but on a show like this or the bachelor, it was next to impossible to be such. Why you had suddenly thought that your mental health could fare well in this environment, you weren’t sure, but you guessed you were stuck now. At least until you got voted off or you…fell in love?

        That notion was seeming more and more far-fetched. How many people from this show had feasibly left in love and lasted? Not many.  What had possessed you? You couldn’t remember anymore. What made you think this would be any different?

        “Hey, I’m sure it’s just the first day jitters! He seemed very sweet during Yuri's season. Maybe he’s overwhelmed.”

        Namjoon placed a hand on your bare shoulder. His warm palm sent comfort coursing through your body. Maybe he had been right to suggest you think of him as a brother. He had a comforting aura around him that you had seldom felt. Any discomfort or lack of trust you had felt before dissipated. You wondered if he had this effect on all the people who met him. He seemed so easily likeable.

        “Thanks,” you said, smiling up at him and placing a gentle  hand on his. He returned the gesture with his own lips. It was then that you noticed the deep indent on his cheek.

        “Your dimples are cute,” you laughed reaching out to poke them with the hand you had touched him with. Namjoon let you boop his dimple which only made his smile wider and the indents deeper. He scoffed.

        “I get that a lot. Might be the only thing about myself that I genuinely like.”

        This made you frown. The only thing he liked about himself? You looked at his face for any signs of a jest but his lips were pulled thin over his teeth as if he regretted saying what he did.

        “You’re kidding right?”

        “Aish…can we just not talk about it? You should really be getting back to the others if you want any chance to stay for the next week.”

        You scrunch your nose up, the idea of not prying a little unattractive to you, but you barely knew this man and out of respect, you didn’t push.

        “Yeah, okay well…how are you going to put the mic on me?”

        As if Namjoon had just crashed down back to earth, he blinked and looked down at his hands expectantly. Then it seemed to click and he reached into one of the many pockets on his cargo shorts. He produced a small black box with a long wire and what looked like velcro or a clip.

        “Can you turn around? I have to secure it to your…top if it’s sturdy enough.” You didn’t question him. You turned your back on him so that you were looking out the open door to your room. You felt Namjoon take a step closer to you.

        Mexico was hot, and like was usually expected of being by the ocean, humid but as the sun had begun to set, the heat had dissipated and you were left with naturally dewy skin. At that moment, you could feel all of Namjoon’s body heat. He was almost like a furnace. He radiated heat effectively.

        Intrusive thoughts of sleeping in his arms in the winter or cuddling with him when you were cold played in your mind’s eye. You let yourself get lost in them for a second as you felt him pull at the wider band of your swimsuit top. You felt it separate from your skin briefly. His fingers brushed the skin on your back. His touches were soft and careful. Like he was scared to touch you too harshly. To hurt you. Or maybe, you were way too in your head and all of this was just politeness.

        “Okay I’m done. Let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, taking a step back to give you room to test your range. You could very clearly feel the little black box on your skin near your arm and while it wasn’t the nicest thing to deal with, it wasn’t totally unmanageable.

        “It feels fine. Is it already on?”

        Your question was answered not by your producer but from the headset on his head that screeched as you spoke. You snapped your head to look over your shoulder. Namjoon was holding the headset off his ears. A look of pure pain on his tan face.

        “I think it’s too loud. Don’t talk let me fix it,” Namjoon said quickly, stepping up behind you and twisting a knob on the box. The noise died down almost instantly.

        “That should be better. Say something.”

        You rolled your shoulders then cleared your throat.

        “Namjoon has cute dimples,” you joked, then looked back over your shoulder quickly to see his reaction. Namjoon only shook his head with a firm smile on his lips, said dimples out and proud. The only thing that gave away that he felt anything but amusement were the tips of his ears which were slightly pink, though you hadn’t looked at his ears earlier so they could have easily been a sunburn.

        “Yeah okay well the sound is fine. If you need anything you can just say my name and I’ll show up,” he tapped his head set, “at the risk of sounding incredibly creepy, I’m always listening.”

        He tapped his head set, then without much more of a goodbye, he walked out of your room leaving you to stare after him with a crescent on your lips.

        Jungkook didn’t know where to start. He watched you speaking to Seokjin, his memory wiring with embarrassment and resentment. The world had laughed at him after the shock of what he’d done had worn off and he couldn’t blame them one bit. When he hadn’t called your name on the fourth episode at the rose ceremony after you had walked into the house that night wearing a beautiful forest green a-line spaghetti strap dress and a pair of jingling earrings, people were shocked. It was contradicting. Earlier in the night, when he had seen you and more importantly for him, heard your jewelry tingling in the night air, he had felt all of the right emotions for you. He’d felt butterflies and excitement to have met you. He’d even said in his interview that he had  thought that he believed when he was younger that when he met his soulmate, he would hear bells.

        He had been elated. He had kissed you. And when he got pulled away to talk to someone else, he had been reluctant to leave you. So why then, had he not given you a rose for the next week?

        Honestly, he forgot your name. Prior to that night, while you were pretty, you hadn’t stood out much aside from being nice. You weren’t typically his type and he had been focused on another girl that seemed much more like someone he would want to date. Multiple someones, in fact. He hadn’t realized that he didn’t know your name until he had picked up a rose and looked directly at you and said a name and you didn’t walk forward like he had expected you to. Instead another girl, whom he had admittedly liked at first, stepped forward with a smug look on her face and a wink to the rest of the girls and accepted his final rose of the night.

        He could blame it on the shock or on not wanting to hurt someone else’s feelings, but the reality was that you hadn’t even given him the chance to explain. Chris had told everyone it was time to say goodbye and the other girl he had intended to eliminate went over and hugged him. You said goodbye to the girls around you, then ran out of the house without a goodbye so fast that he felt a breeze as you walked by.

        He had been stupid enough to say in his interview that he had forgotten your name and since then, he hadn’t heard the end of it. At the time, he had thought that maybe he had forgotten your name for a reason bigger than himself, but when his final pick hadn’t worked out, he realized maybe he had just made a huge mistake.

        Now, he was in Paradise to have another chance at wooing you. When he had been offered the spot and told that you would be there, he couldn’t help but jump for joy. This was a sign. The universe wanted this.

        It wasn’t until he had seen you in the hot tub with the Bachelorette’s sweetheart that he realized the consequences of his actions. Your face, when you saw him, was all the proof he needed. He’d royally screwed up.

        “Hey Jeon,” a man sat next to Jungkook with a pat on his back on the pool chair next to his. Jungkook hadn’t realized that he had zoned out for so long.

        “Uh hi,” he said awkwardly, not remembering this man from the shows.

        “Yoongi. I was on season 26 of the Bachelorette. I don’t blame you for not remembering.”

        “Oh no! I remember you,” Jungkook argued.

        The man, Yoongi, chuckled and clapped him on the back a couple of times, “Right, and Kim Seokjin is ugly. No really, it’s fine. I know I wasn’t memorable. Or at least, I felt like I wasn’t, but I guess my following on twitter says differently.”

        Jungkook didn’t know how to answer. Luckily, he was saved…relatively by another man that he had talked to earlier. His name was-

        “There you are Hobi,” Yoongi said as the new man sat next to him with a bright smile on his face.

        “Here I am,” he confirmed, “Sorry, I was just speaking to that girl over there…what was her name?”

        At this both men shared a panicked look while covertly glancing at Jungkook out of the corner of their eyes.

        “That wasn’t a dig,” Hobi said after a short pause, “I didn’t mean-”

        “Julie,” Jungkook said without missing a beat, “and that girl over there,” he pointed at a girl who was sitting a bit farther away than everyone else, “her name is Alex. And that one,” He pointed towards the palm trees where a lightly lit bed rested, “Is Katherine who likes to be called Kitty.”

        The two older men watched in complete awkwardness as Jungkook continued to point out every single girl that had arrived.

        “Holly,” he said pointing at a girl who was talking to another man he had met upon arrival, Jimin, “Yumi,” he said pointing out a girl who was talking to three men and laughing, then with perfect timing, you walked back and you happened to be the last person he needed to name. This was the universe’s way of giving him the chance to fix his mistakes.

        He opened his mouth. Your name on the tip of his tongue. The men before him blinked, eyes wide in anticipation. It may have been dramatic but damn did it feel like every second since the bachelor had been leading up to this moment. He also knew that they were probably going to edit this moment to be dramatic anyway. He learned to go with the grain of the editors instead of fighting their notions.

        “Hey guys,” just like that, the moment was robbed as- was his name Jackson?- yelled over the chatter and bubbles of the hot tub. Everyone turned to look at him. He beamed at the group. The final rays of sun had faded and the moon and all the lamps in the villa were on. He held up a single fist. In it, a pearly white envelope.

        It was the first date card.

        The crowd tensed. Where it was fun and lively only seconds ago, it was now quiet and expectant. Jungkook shut his mouth. Nerves filled his body from his fingertips to his toes. He watched you walk over to Alex who had migrated closer to the group when Jackson had yelled. Taehyung and Kitty were also making their way back. Taehyung’s hair was messier than it had been. His clothes were still wet by the looks of it but he didn’t seem to mind. He held Kitty’s hand in his much bigger one, the girl clearly happy about what had conspired between them. If one was to look closely at them, they might even notice that there was a smear of something pink on his lips and Kitty’s hair was frizzier than it had been before.

        “Guess someone is going on a date,” Jackson said, as soon as everyone had gathered close enough to hear him properly. He had taken off his shirt at some point. His abs sparkled in the lamp light with what must be water, or sweat. It wasn’t difficult to admit that he was good looking. Jungkook chanced a glance at you. Alex and you were staring at the man. A knowing smile on your face as Alex rolled her eyes. You elbowed her as Julie and Yumi stood beside the two of you. They too were gawking in silence at the shirtless man.

        Soobin looked over at the gaggle of girls longingly. In the time Jungkook had been there, he hadn’t seen him speak to any of them for any extended period of time. He was well on his way to being eliminated. It was then that he reminded himself that he hadn’t exactly made the effort to speak to any of the other girls yet so he wasn’t too far for his predicament. The man with the blue hair, Yeonjun, was patting his back soothingly. At least he had hit it off with someone.

        “Should I read it?”

        There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. Excitement had started to replace the nerves for most people and it was clear on their faces. Jungkook watched you bounce on the balls of your feet, bare now of your heels. Your toe nails were painted a soft pink that seemed to sum you up so well in his mind.

        Jackson ripped the envelope open, then frowned when he realized that it hadn’t been sealed shut. Yumi and Holly giggled coquetry. You held back a snort.

        “Sorry guys,” Jackson said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Anyway, let’s see what it says.”

        He cleared his throat, then in a dramatic game show voice he read, “Yoongi,” Jackson looked at said man with a slightly jealous smile, “Welcome to paradise! Pick a girl to dance to the beat of your heart. Your date leaves tomorrow morning.”

        Yoongi looked at Jackson in shock. It was clear that he hadn’t expected to get the first date card. He seemed to be thrown thoroughly off guard.

        “Me,” he asked, as Jackson handed him the slightly ripped envelope. He scanned the card as if he couldn’t quite believe it unless he saw it. His mouth was slightly open.

        “You mean I have to wake up early? And I have to exercise?”

        Next to him, Hobi laughed loudly clapping him on the back, “Be happy Yoongi! You have your pick of woman for the first date in Paradise!”

        “Yeah,” said Jimin who had snuck closer to the group of men on the pool chairs, “No one is paired up yet. So you get to ask whomever you want!” Jimin seemed a little sad but determined to be supportive. Jungkook had gotten the impression that he was kind to a fault.

        “The problem is that I don’t know who to ask…” he admitted, shyly looking at the girls who looked expectant.

        “Well take your time,” Hobi said, “Just make sure you ask someone before tomorrow morning.”

        “Yeah…I think I’ll go talk to them a little more. Maybe if I get a better gauge of their personalities then it’ll make it easier.”

        Yoongi stood, the girls froze. Hobi clapped and Jimin followed his lead. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle and clap as well. It wasn’t long before all of the men in Paradise were clapping for him as he made his way over to the girls. The psychologist glared at them but pulled his shoulders back and walked confidently over to the group.

        “I’m so proud,” Hobi laughed, whipping a fake tear from his eye as he watched Yoongi walk away.

        You buzzed with excitement. You and Yoongi hadn’t exactly hit it off right off the bat but you wouldn’t say no to him if he asked you on a date. He seemed kind, albeit a bit cold, but there was something attractive about him that you couldn’t place your finger on. As he walked towards you guys, you felt your hands get sweaty.

        Alex wasn’t looking at him, already looking around for something else to do. You elbowed her softly but she only glared.

        “Don’t you want to go on the date,” You asked.

        “Not particularly. I don’t dance.”

        “Oh,” you said, “You don’t like it or you can’t?”

        “I don’t dance,” she said again. Clearly she didn’t want to elaborate, so you only smiled awkwardly and dropped the subject. Kitty had made her way over to you at some point. A smug look on her face. She stood by the girl, whom Alex had told you was named Holly and waited for Yoongi.

        “Hi everyone,” Yoongi said, a small smile on his delicate lips.

        A chorus of greetings met his own and his smile grew and, you noticed, his nerves.

        “Would it be okay if I spoke to each of you? I want to have an idea of who I could go on this date with if that’s alright?”

        Another chorus of agreement later, and Yoongi began from Alex. Kindly, he asked her to follow him a bit away from the rest of the group. She obliged out of courtesy. It was clear that she had no interest in this date. Their conversation didn’t seem to last long. If you had to guess, it was probably five minutes at the most and they were coming back, Yoongi looking thoroughly put down and Alex seeming a little annoyed. You would have to ask her about it later.

        Next, with a bit of a dejected look, he approached you.

        “Y/N, do you mind speaking to me in private?”

        “Of course. Yeah.”

        You stood from the seat you had taken, then followed him closer to the edge of the ocean. The moon was still low in the sky and the ocean as dark as night. The stars were reflected on its waves like a mirror. You couldn’t help but think it was beautiful. A moving sky.

        “So… this date,” Yoongi began, obviously cringing at himself, “Do you also have a problem with dancing?”

        You giggled, “Not particularly no. Though I might not be great at it, I’m willing to try if you want me to.”

        You could feel him looking at you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the crashing waves and the way the stars moved with the ebb and flow of the water.

        “Okay that’s already one more point to you than to Alex. I don’t think she’s at all interested in me.”

        You felt your chest pang in sympathy for him. It was only one girl. There was no reason to feel so low.

        “There are more girls in Paradise though. I’m sure some of us are. And even if you can’t find someone you like, there are more girls coming soon.”

        “Are you saying that you’re not interested,” Yoongi asked, and it was then that you pulled your eyes from the crashing waves.

        “That’s not at all what I’m saying!”

        “Well good. Because I can’t say I’m completely uninterested in you either.”

        Your stomach rolled with anticipation. Would he even talk to the other girls? Was he about to ask you on this date now?

        “What were you looking at by the way? You were staring at the ocean.”

        You smiled, glad that you had an excuse to talk about your notion.

        “You see how the sky is kind of reflected on the water? It’s kind of beautiful, don’t you think? It’s an ocean of space almost.”

        You looked at Yoongi expectantly. He was staring at the water. His hand on his chin and his eyes squinted. You waited patiently for his reply. For him to see what you did. But a couple of minutes came and went and when he looked at you, you knew he didn’t quite understand it.

        “It’s pretty,” he admitted, “though I can’t get past the fact that it’s not actually the sky.”

        Disappointed, you nodded, “Yeah, I guess I’m just weird that way.”

        “I wouldn’t say weird. You have a different view on the world maybe. It's interesting.”

        “Thank you,” a pause in which neither of you spoke and then he did.

        “Shall we head back?”

         Your heart sank.

Taglist:

@monvieedaeback

[sxpernovagirl]

💭 ( love )

When/Where: Throughout Nova's life / Auckland & Santa Monica

About: Nova's memories surrounding love.

Triggers: Depression

January 1999 (Storge)

“I love you, mama!” Nova was two years old, it was the first full string of a sentence that she didn’t stumble over. She had scurried over to her mom and hugged her leg so tightly before the girl could head off to school. Seon-Hee froze in her tracks and smiled a watery smile, scooping up her toddler and holding her tightly. Sure, it may have made her late to school, but it was worth hearing those three words from her little star. It was Nova’s first experience with unconditional love.

August 2001 (Pragma)

Nova silently giggled to herself as she learned to play Christina Aguilera’s Genie in a Bottle on piano. With each note she was surrounded by a smoky swirl of turquoise, blue, and a lime green. She would sing along to see a trail of smoky gold leave her own lips. It was her own little secret, but one of the reasons why she loved music so much. While the world around her was so colorful, music added its own flair to it. From the greens and blues of Genie in a Bottle to the bright reds and blues of Jumpin’ Jumpin’ by Destiny’s Child and the pinks and yellows of Mariah Carey’s Fantasy, her life would always be filled with color. She loved it so much that she wanted to just be like the pop greats, to make her own music and connect the colors together, to create her own rainbow.

So when Seon-Hee asked little Nova what were the giggles about, the little one could only turn around and shrug.

“I just really love music!”

December 2004 (Storge)

“The day I fell in love with you was the day you shared your ice cream with Nova, who was no more than two and a half at the time. She didn’t ask for it, but you just offered it to her and her whole face lit up. It was like, you knew what she was thinking…and it was like you knew right then and there what to do…”

Nova eagerly watched Seon-Hee and Oliver say their vows, their eyes were watery and their voices slightly shaky. It was like a fairytale. Her mother was in a beautiful white gown and her now, father was in a suit only seen in storybooks. Her eyes sparkled at their first kiss as husband and wife and all little Nova could think was how she wanted a fairytale just like her parents. It was beautiful, it was magical. Everyday she would wake up and see them both in the kitchen gazing at each other with love in their eyes.

June 2013 (Mania)

“I’m in love with you, Nova!”

Nova’s heart dropped to her stomach at the phrase. This wasn’t what love was. It wasn’t fighting outside after school in front of her house. It wasn’t mascara running down her face in frustration. This wasn’t what it felt like. She didn’t feel the world slow down or her heart soar. She felt angry, dejected, hurt.

“No you don’t!” She fired back in between sobs. “You don’t love me, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t just make me feel like shit and then say you love me, that’s not how it works!” She called out to her boyfriend—well soon to be ex.

“Well what do you know, anyways?!”

“I know that we’re done, that’s for fucking sure!” Nova yelled at the top of her lungs.

June 2014 (Eros/Philia)

“Nova, what if I said that I—“

“Please don’t.”

“But I—“

“No you don’t.”

Nova slid her shorts back on as she was getting ready to leave. The guy that she had a spring fling with had definitely caught feelings and with him catching feelings meant the charade would be over. It sucked, he was really great and knew what he was doing and what she liked, but…she couldn’t pursue anything further. Maybe because of the fact that there wasn’t that romantic pull towards him. He was shallow and vain, often thinking more of himself than he did other people. Somehow, she managed to get him to open up, to see past the facade, but she sure as hell didn’t expect for him to fall for her. Either way, it was over.

“So what does this mean?” He asked.

“It’s gotta end. We can’t continue down this road because your emotions will just keep getting in the way and I just don’t see us together romantically.”

“Thank you for being honest, Nov.”

She nodded with a small grin and grabbed her sneakers and made her way out of the room, dignity intact and all.

January 2017 (Storge)

“I don’t love myself enough!” Nova had snapped in front of everyone between her friends and her parents. She had spent the last few weeks isolating herself, completely shutting everyone out. She had stormed off, tears in her eyes and while some of them tried chasing after her, Seon-Hee held everyone off to catch up with her daughter.

Depression was one hell of a thing that would take hold of Nova like a snake strangling its prey. She would feel stuck and suffocated, the light from her eyes would dim…but this time, her eyes were completely void. It was the lowest she had ever been and those who really knew saw it.

Seon-Hee held her daughter tightly trying to keep the 20 year old from completely crumbling. Reminding her that she was loved and sometimes, there would be days where she wouldn’t be too proud of herself, but that no one loved her less on the days where she couldn’t love her own self.

October 2020 (Philia/Philautia)

“I really love you guys,” Nova slurred drunkenly. It was her 24th birthday and she was surrounded by her friends, well, her family as she called them. While her glitter was smeared now and appeared that she had been crying glitter, she felt happy. This was what love felt like to the young woman. It felt warm and comforting, just like home as she tried to pull everyone into a group hug…and at least sucker someone into carrying her because there was no way she would be able to walk on her two feet without looking like a baby deer just learning how to use their legs.

As she was being hauled out of the bar, she stopped in front of the reflection and smiled. “Hey hey wait wait wait,” She slurred, flailing her hands. “I look so prettyyy!! Oh my gosh! I didn’t know I looked so pretty tonight! Did anyone tell me I was pretty? It’s okay, I know I’m pretty. Go Nova, you a baddie,” She giggled, blowing a kiss to her own reflection before being hauled out once more. If there was anyone who had enough self-love for themselves, it was definitely Nova…especially after a few drinks.

July 2021 (Eros)

“Hey google, what is love?” Nova asked, her voice raspy and heavy with exhaustion. It was 3am and her parents were away for the evening catering for a wedding.

“Love is an intense feeling of deep affection.” Her Google radio responded back.

It wasn’t enough for Nova and she huffed. All she could think about was what Soo and Mimi had said…

“It may be more than a simple crush Nova, sometimes when you really know the person, and they know everything about you…those feelings grow more into something like love.”

"Love is a strong word though. And it's not always what you might expect."

She should’ve asked them that night what it felt like. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure what she felt. She sat in front of her laptop with a pen and her journal open as she tapped nervously, reading through every meaning of love. From the Greek meanings of the different type of love, to philosophers, authors, and poets.

“What does it feel like?” She wondered aloud. Romantic love. Was it all consuming? Was it feeling your heart skip a beat? Was it the way your whole chest burst into a flutter or an electric tingle up your spine?

She wasn’t sure what love was anymore…but she felt all of the above.

[zestycompress]

Ultimate Duo! CH. 2

Forgot to post it here.. oops

anyway chapter three is gonna come out.. probably today or tomorrow. i’m on a roadtrip with my family so i probably have more time to write now

AO3 Link

The car malfunctioned, giving the Japanese tourist some time to catch up with Giorno. Coincidence? Probably. Looks like he needs to get a new car. At least he was able to use Gold Experience and turn his luggage into a frog, he didn’t want to leave empty-handed. Too bad he lost money to the security by paying them to keep quiet. Of course, he could always get it back by pickpocketing some unlucky people.

The blond teen turned around to see a man dragging a shovel. One of his eyes was watery, and at that moment, he knew who that was.

“You’re Giorno Giovanna, right?”

So he knows his name.

Giorno nodded. The man turned around, gesturing to a bench with his head and walked towards it. “We haven’t met before, have we? Giorno, you have any clue who I am?”

“Leaky-Eye Luca. You were in a dispute a while back and when it turned ugly, you took a knife to the face but kept fighting and swinging despite your wound,” He replied. “The complications from that little scrap left you with a perpetually leaking eye, hence your moniker.”

Luca sat down while Giorno stood in front of him. “Here, take a load off and make yourself comfortable.”

The half-Japanese teen stared in silence.

“What’s the holdup? Pop a squat. Looking up at you is hurting my eyes.” He said, Giorno moved over and sat next to him.

“So, how old are you?”

“Fifteen and change.”

“What, really?! Haha! You’re a baby,” Luca grinned and laughed, but his face quickly changed. “Here’s the thing, Giorno, any true friendship has to be built on the firm foundation of the three T’s. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?” He wiped his eye as he spoke while Giorno stared ahead. “In case you’re drawing a blank, the first one is truth, the second one is tolerance, last but not least you have the third T, tribute, and voila the three T’s of true friendship.”

Giorno turned his head to the older man and asked, “Was there something you needed?”

Luca quickly grabbed his shovel and pushed it right against the teenager’s cheek. “I wasn’t finished showing you the ropes so shut your face hole! Nobody said you could ask questions, as for what I needed, I hear you started a hustle at the airport, huh? Surely you can see how this would be confusing, after all, I don’t remember receiving any tribute from you-” Giorno could really use a distraction right about now. “-and without tribute, how could we remain true friends? Now hand over your wallet.”

“Signore, you’ve got it wrong. I’ve already paid your tribute. I don’t have any money,” Giorno said, only making Luca angrier.

“You talking about that guard?! You have to be a special kind of stupid to think I’m working with that old- huh?” He stared at the bizarre image in Giorno’s wallet of the one and only Dio Brando, but he didn’t know that.. “What the hell is this, a family photo?” He brushed it off and continued to shout. “I know you’re holding out on me, so fork over the cash right now blondie!”

“Signore Luca, I really hate having to repeat myself and as I’ve already said, I don’t owe you anything.”

“Huh?”

“Now please don’t make me say it a third time-”

Luca swung his shovel at Giorno, almost hitting him. A frog - the one that used to be that certain Japanese tourist’s luggage - appeared and was next to his foot. It then hopped onto his leg.

“Time out, kid. What the hell is that?” It’s… a frog… isn’t it obvious?

It continued to hop upwards on Giorno. “So he came back…”

“Flick it off!” The man shouted.

“No, the frog has nothing to do with this. Please don’t ask me to do that.” He responded.

Luca raised his shovel and pointed at the innocent creature. “That wasn’t a freakin’ suggestion, amico, and you still haven’t paid the taxes you owe! Are you seriously going to refuse both of my orders?! You’ve got some brass balls, kid! (more like steel balls haha am i right sbr fans) No one says no to Leaky-Eye Luca twice!”

“This frog is a living creature with the will of his own,” Uh, yeah, we know that. “He thinks and acts for himself. Let’s go our separate ways.” Giorno really wanted to go back to his place, even if that meant sitting in awkward silence with Kars. This guy was holding him up.

Luca swung his shovel at the frog despite Giorno’s warnings. The small green creature slipped out from underneath the tool. Unfortunately for Leaky-Eye Luca, he was dead, all because he tried hitting a frog. Should’ve listened, now the back of his head was caved in. The frog transformed back into luggage and Giorno walked away.

~~~

Kars tried on the clothes Giorno bought for them. To be honest, they weren’t that bad. Obviously, they could be better, the white collared shirt was too plain for Kars. He pulled out some other clothes that could be fitting. He examined a thin turtleneck sweater which was a wine purple color, similar to his hair color.

Good enough.

He already completed reading every book Giorno owned and he wasn’t planning on rereading them. Kars practically memorized every word written on the pages. Staying inside Giorno’s room isn’t something he’s going to do. If the blond teen returns before he does, he better be prepared for waking up in the middle of the night to see Kars entering his room by compressing his body to go underneath the door.

Obviously, it’s not going to be a pleasant sight, especially when you’re only half-awake.

As he walked through the streets of Italy, he received many stares from random humans. Kars either saw admiration or envy in their eyes and sometimes fear, he couldn’t blame them. After all, he was the perfect being. And he was pretty tall too, he towered over everyone else. Not only that, but the Pillar Man was also pretty intimidating, not that much of a surprise.

People scurried out of his way with their head down to avoid eye contact with Kars. If they looked up at him, he would send a cold glare and force them to quickly turn away. But not everybody was scared off. A few people politely waved and smiled, maybe even wink at Kars. Some humans were bold enough to ask him to dinner. Of course, he harshly declined their offer. It wasn’t the first time a human requested to have a meal with him. Kars is fully aware of how attractive he is compared to others.

Soon, the Pillar Man found himself near a beach, it was mostly empty. There was just one single person standing on the dock holding a fishing rod. Kars would’ve ignored them and continued walking, but a part of him wanted to go towards the person. He tried convincing himself that he only wanted to go near them because of their bizarre lime-green hair. Honestly, he wasn’t a big fan of it.

When Kars got closer, he felt the same kind of energy as Giorno’s Stand, Gold Experience. It caught him a bit off guard. This person had their Stand out… while they were fishing? Now he was confused, why would he need a Stand to fish? Did it help? Kars needed answers.

“You.”

The person shrieked loudly, dropping their fishing rod, turning around with a fearful expression and wide eyes.

“You’re a coward, aren’t you?” Kars sighed. “I can tell just by looking at you. Now, tell me your name.”

The person stumbled over their words a few times before blurting out “Pesci!”

By their appearance and the sound of their voice, Kars concluded that this human was indeed male. He stared at him for a while before asking another question. “Where’s your Stand?”

Pesci panicked, looking around to see if Prosciutto was nearby. He just left to go smoke, knowing full well that Pesci hates the smell. He probably needed to go buy more cigarettes and was now coming back.

...The blond man was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Answer me!”

“I-I, um, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The only option he had was to play dumb. It wasn’t working.

“What kind of fool do you take me for? I can feel its energy, tell me, what are you using your Stand for?”

Pesci couldn’t take it, the man was just too intimidating! Hopefully, he’s not from another gang, a rival one to be exact, the whole team would get angry at him for revealing information. Even if it was about his Stand, weaknesses would be exposed and he would get taken out.

“My Stand is Beach Boy, it's the fishing rod! I’m only using it to fish, don’t hurt me!” He shut his eyes and tensed up, unable to bear staring into the tall man’s eyes.

Kars blinked. The damn fishing rod was a Stand? Did Giorno seriously lie about how only Stand users could see Stands? He picked up the dark blue fishing rod and examined it. It certainly was pretty odd.

“I thought only Stand users could see Stands, was I wrong?” He hummed, poking the skull on Beach Boy.

“...Well, that is true but… only for most Stands… there are some exceptions I guess…” Pesci replied, wincing when Kars turned his head to him.

“Is that so?” A smirk appeared on his face. Looks like he learned something new.

Before Kars could ask any more questions, the sound of footsteps alerted him. A blond man with a dark-colored suit stood there, frowning. The Pillar Man returned the same look. Pesci felt relieved that Prosciutto finally came back, he was probably going to get scolded and punished but that’s better than answering any more questions about his Stand.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Prosciutto stepped closer, glaring into Kars’s eyes without a hint of fear. Despite the man being a foot taller than him, he wasn’t intimidated, or at least he didn’t appear to be. That’s something Pesci admired him for. The intense staring continued and Pesci started to get uncomfortable.

“Leave,” Prosciutto commanded. “Now.”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” He laughed. “You’re just a pitiful human. There’s nothing you could do that can hurt me.”

“Is that what you think?” The blond man hissed. “Fine, I’m sure The Grateful Dead will change your mind!”

Kars felt something grabbing onto his legs but didn’t look. He knew it was just his Stand, so why panic? He found amusement in Prosciutto’s bewildered expression. The Grateful Dead wasn’t working. Even though the Stand’s making contact with Kars, he isn’t aging. Was there some kind of Stand ability that canceled the effect? Prosciutto glared at his Stand as if doing that would start the aging process. Nothing happened.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Kars hummed, his smug grin grew wider which made the Italian man more frustrated.

“Impossible! You should be getting older, more weaker!” He growled, his Stand’s grip became tighter. “Pesci, do something!”

“O-Oh! Right!” He was about to summon his Stand before he foolishly realized that Kars already had it in his hand. What was he supposed to do, reach out and grab the damn thing?! The Pillar Man looked down at him, sending shivers down the young man’s spine.

...Surprisingly, he returned Beach Boy. Prosciutto eyed him suspiciously. Pesci hesitated, then quickly snatched his Stand back. He stared at Kars, trying to figure out if there was a hidden motive, but he wasn’t sure.

“Demonstrate your Stand’s abilities, I’d like to see how it works. Don’t keep me waiting, I can wait all day but I’d prefer not to.” He said.

The hook and fishing line was now inside Kars, he can feel it traveling up his arm. It was a strange sensation. However, he couldn’t see it moving. There was no outline of the hook and line in his skin. The hook found its way to Kars’s heart, but Pesci became hesitant. Was this all a trap? He glanced at Prosciutto, the man was silently encouraging him to use Beach Boy. Something was off about Kars. Instead of finishing off the two Stand users, he instead waited for their Stands to do something. Waiting for your foe to display their abilities can help with figuring out their weakness, but it can also put yourself in danger. Kars did not seem to care about that, he just seemed curious about their Stands. Prosciutto kept his guard up, you can never be too careful.

Pesci used Beach Boy’s hook to tear apart the beating heart, but again, Kars seemed to be unaffected.

...Or perhaps it just didn’t work.

There was simply no way to kill Kars. The sun was no longer his enemy, Stands were useless, even lava couldn’t do it. He was the perfect, undefeatable being.

Kars felt the hook desperately tugging on his heart as Pesci became more visibly anxious. Prosciutto was also getting quite upset. The Pillar Man has never been so entertained before. Chuckling, he walked away from the duo.

“That’s enough, I supposed. Pesci, your Stand has potential, you know that, right? However,” He glanced at Prosciutto with a bit of a frown. “What’s the point of yours? It doesn’t seem like it can do anything interesting.”

As he left, Prosciutto muttered curses and insults, not knowing that Kars could hear what he said. Pesci thought the compliment was rather nice, even though the man was strange.

If only he knew his name.

~~~

He ran into that Japanese tourist again, this time he found out he was no ordinary being. And he didn’t have to get a new car after all! Well, maybe someone took it after he ran away. But that didn’t matter, the tourist was a Stand user. He was the reason his car came to a stop. Luckily, Giorno got away again. The stranger didn’t seem so bad though. He had a good soul and Giorno felt a bit of pity for robbing him.

He opened up the window in the funicular and stared at the passing buildings. Before he could think about what he’ll do next, he heard a coin drop. A man wearing a white suit with oddly shaped black dots appeared and picked it up.

“This yours?” He asked Giorno.

[disasterdeacy]

Forbidden Fruit: Part One

A/N: This is going to be the first of a two part series! Hopefully I will have Part Two out in the next week or so, because I’m travelling to Australia this coming Thursday so I have a lot of prep, but hopefully I’ll have some time to write up part two in the next few days or while en route! Just let me know what y’all think of this one, and remember to reblog and comment! Pairing: 1998!Brian May x Reader Word Count: 7.5k Summary: Y/N is Jimmy May’s best friend in the entire world. So when she’s unable to return home for the 4th of July, he does what any good friend would and offers to have her come stay with him at his Dad’s place for the weekend, the whole thing culminating in a BBQ that would rival any her family ever threw. Little does Brian, or Y/N, know, this weekend will be memorable for more reasons than the burgers and sparklers.  Warnings: Infidelity, Age Gap, 18+, Y’all This is Just Disgusting I’m Sorry

To say that Y/N was having a bad day, would be like saying that there were a few people living in London. An understatement of the highest degree. The 20 year old Archaeology student was lying face down on the floor of the living,to of the flat that she shared with her best friend Jimmy, an Enya CD playing at full blast from the boom box near the fireplace. That’s how Jimmy May found her when he returned home from his final lecture of the semester.

The sight made him chuckle as he sat his book bag down, before walking over to Y/N and lying down beside her on his back, hands crossed over his chest. The two young students had been best friends since their very first day of university 2 years prior, when Y/N, an Archaeology and Medieval History major from America in need of friends, was assigned to sit beside Jimmy May, an undecided major from London who was also in desperate need of friends.

Y/N had stuck out her hand for him to shake, a bright smile on her face, her brows furrowing in confusion when he’d just stared at her hand. “Oh shit, y’all do shake hands right?”

Jimmy had just laughed loudly and nodded, taking her hand in his and shaking firmly, seemingly solidifying their friendship. While most people assumed they were together romantically, the sheer thought of that made bile rise in the the two young adults throats. They did love one another, but their relationship was nothing more than that of siblings, and that’s exactly how they wanted it to stay.

 Y/N groaned when she felt Jimmy lie down beside her, knowing that he was waiting for her to explain why she was having a slight mental breakdown in the middle of the living room.

“Can’t go back to the States for the Summer, which means I’m not going to be able to be with my family on the 4th..”

 She had received a call from her parents earlier that day saying that they’d not been able to get her a plane ticket for her trip home, which meant that she was stuck in York for the remainder of the summer.

Y/N didn’t exactly mind this, she loved York, loved being in the UK, but she also had never not been home for her family’s annual 4th of July BBQ, aka her favorite part of the year.

Her aunt and uncle had a huge pool, so the entire family would pile into their house and spend the whole day gorging on watermelon and burgers, veggie for her, and getting sun poisoning while her grandmother made homemade ice cream. The fireworks were her favorite part though, and Y/N and her younger cousin would always sit in the pool in their doughnut floats and watch as their dad’s and uncles attempted to light the fuses without managing to blow off a limb. It was her absolute favorite thing in the entire world and now she wasn’t going to get to experience it, all because of a mix up with the airline.

 Jimmy knew how important Y/N's annual trip to see her family was, the promise of seeing her family was the only thing that helped her get past the final semester of classes, now that had been taken from her, and it broke Jimmy's heart. Sitting up, he reaches over, rolling his best friend onto her back, frowning when he sees the forlorn look on your face.

"Shit love, are you alright?"

Y/N just sighs, a sad smile on her face.  She was completely heartbroken and beyond upset, but she knew it wasn't anybody's fault, you can't control when an airline cancels your ticket the day before you're supposed to leave.

"Its alright dude, shit happens, shit sucks, but it happens."

She had always been more of a glass half full kind of person, and this situation could be so much worse, so Y/N wasn't about to complain. She was still going to see them in December, and hey, at least she still had family to go see.

The two were quiet for a while, Y/N on her back staring at the ceiling, Jimmy sitting straight up, chin in his hands, a look of concentration on his face.

Y/N knew that look all to well, and she didn't like it at all. It meant Jimmy was thinking, and when Jimmy was thinking, and things happened. Sitting up alongside her best friend, Y/N raises her eyebrows, suspicious look in her eyes.

"You're thinking really loud Jim, what's up?"

He laughs, jumping off of the floor and running to the kitchen before she can question him further.

If Y/N had known what Jimmy was doing in the kitchen in that moment, she probably would've tackled the phone away from him and forbade him from ever using it again...

 Windlesham, Surrey

3 July 1998

 Jimmy had neglected to tell Y/N just how insanely large his dad’s house was. Sure, she’d figured it was going to be relatively large, it was the house of a rockstar, she didn’t expect it to look like it belonged to a CPA from Chester.

However, this was on another level of insanity.  It was an absolutely gorgeous Tudor revival style home with at least 10 bedrooms rooms, situated on a few acres of land, a pool smack dab in the middle of the spacious back yard. This was honesty her dream home.

Jimmy laughed at his best friend’s slack jawed appearance beside him, taking her bag from her as they ascended the stairs.

“Trying to catch some flies love?”

Y/N only reached over and smacked him on the shoulder the same way she did her brother anytime he decided to be a brat.

“I doubt there’s ever been a single fly in this house before James.”

She rarely used his whole name, saving it for moments like this when he was seriously grinding the last root of her final nerve, and she barely had a nerve left for him to grind... all of them were currently being used to try and keep her from throwing up the lunch her and Jimmy had eaten in Cambridge.

Why was she so nervous again? Oh right, because she was stood outside Brian May's house, where she would be staying for the next week, because her best friend, who also happens to be his son, decided that the best course of action to cure her small sadness was to ask his father to host them and throw a BBQ to rival Y/N's family's.

Brian had enthusiastically agreed to his son's idea, having never met the young woman who he couldn't seem to shut up about.  For a long while, the older man had assumed that the two youngsters were together, but after asking Louisa about it after she'd met Y/N at Chrissy's and received a loud laugh in return, he was positive that they were only the closest of friends, with a relationship more akin to the one Jimmy had with Louisa and Emily.

Sadly, he wasn't home at the exact moment the two arrived, which caused  Y/N to sigh in relief.  She didn't even know who Jimmy's dad was until the two had been friends for almost 6 months, only finding out when she met his sister Louisa when she came to visit and began to talk about an Uncle Roger and Uncle John. To be honest Y/N had felt like a bit of an idiot for not making the connection, knowing that his dad was a musician and his name was May, but Jimmy had just laughed loudly as the realization hit. He still teased her to no end about it, and had been taking her as they entered the house, cackling as she slapped his arm when he asked if she was going to pass out when she met him.

"Oh fuck you Jimmy, it's not funny!"

Y/N had been embarrassed enough when she found out that her best friend was Brian May's son, mainly because of the times she'd completely fangirled over Queen, Brian in particular, in front of Jimmy, and now he was just eating up the fact that she was about to meet him. He'd even placed a bet with Louisa on how long she could last without losing consciousness.

"Don't know love, it's pretty fucking funny to me. My sweet innocent little best friend wants to fu-"

Thankfully a green human shaped blur tackled Y/N to the ground, surprising Jimmy enough to stop him talking before he could finish his sentence.

Laughing loudly as she hit the ground, Y/N wrapped her arms around what she assumed was Louisa, only to find out that it was the youngest May, who was laughing just has hard, her arms firmly around the older woman's waist.

"Em! God, You're getting strong, and, a-are you wet?

Y/N laughed even harder when she saw that the 11 year old was wrapped in a lime green beach towel, water dripping from her dark curls onto Y/N's previously pristine white sun dress.  Emily just laughed and nodded against her friend's chest.

" Yeah! Lou and I were swimming when we heard the car pull up, and I missed you so I just jumped out and ran in. "

She was talking 1,000,000 miles a minute, which wasn't exactly weird for an 11 year old girl, but it still caused Y/N to laugh.

"Did you trail in half the pool while you were at it?"

Y/N nodded towards the puddles of water standing on the tiles of the kitchen floor, giggling when the young girl scurried off of her lap, cursing quietly as she unwrapped her towel from around her to clean up the mess, allowing Jimmy to pull his best friend from the floor.

"Why don't you let your brother do that so you can show me the pool?"

Wiggling her eyebrows at Emily, Y/N extended her hand to her, smiling widely when the 11 year old accepted it happily, throwing her towel at Jimmy before she pulled Y/N out the patio door and towards the pool.

Like the rest of the house that she'd seen, the pool was amazingly ornate. Pure white stone lined the path to it, and surrounded the edge of the crystal blue waters where Louisa was lounging on a pink float. The diving board and slide were just begging to be used, but seeing as how she was in a dress, Y/N resisted the urge to utilize either one of them.

Despite being absolutely pressing petrified to meet Brian, Y/N was overjoyed to see the girls again. She hasn't seen the two youngest May kids since November the year before when their mom had invited Y/N to her home for a little Thanksgiving dinner since she hadn't had one in 2 years. Chrissy was an actual Angel and Y/N had never felt so welcome before, that week had been one that she would always remember fondly, and she just hoped that this one would also go down in her memory bank.

Laughing loudly as Emily jumped into the pool right beside Louisa, absolutely saturating her with water, Y/N sat down on the edge of the pool watching as the older girl dunked her little sister under the water, screaming bloody murder the whole time. The noise from the two girls was so loud that Y/N didn't hear the tell tell noise of a car pulling up, nor the sound of a door opening, nor the sound of feet running up to her.

One minute she had been yelling at Emily to "fight like a girl!" and the next she was underwater, eyes burning with the sting of the chlorinated water.

Popping up out of the water gasping in shock, Y/N started treading water, glaring at the side of the pool where Jimmy was stood laughing like a goddamn hyena, well it looked vaguely like Jimmy, she couldn't exactly tell with her eyes squinted like they were.

"JAMES MAY YOU ABSOLUTE CUNT!"

She yelled out, voice full of amusement despite the angry words. Louisa and Emily were also laughing, holding onto the pink float for dear life as they watched Y/N flail around, brushing her hair from her eyes as she yelled at their brother.

The two girls started to swim over to her, trying to assist their friend, when they noticed the tall figure of their dad walking towards the pool, an amused look on his face.

Brian had just returned home from the shops when he'd heard the ear piercing scream coming from the pool, and he immediately slipped into dad mode, dropping the bags in the kitchen before taking off towards the pool, fearing the worst.

Only when he stepped onto the back patio and heard a very distinct American accent did he smile and breathe a little. He had been looking forward to the arrival of his son and the American girl who had some how managed to teach Jimmy how to properly fold is socks and boil an egg, but when he'd woke that morning to find the fridge completely empty and his daughter's "dying of starvation", Brian groaned and headed out to the shops, determined to be back in time to meet Y/N when she and Jimmy arrived. However, Anita had insisted on coming with him, and that had turned what would've been a 20 minute excursion into a 2 hour social call.

Now, he was slowly approaching the pool, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised in amusement as the curses that were being thrown at his son reached his ears. Well, the girl certainly had a mouth on her.

" I swear to god Jimmy, when I get out of this goddamn pool, your skinny little ass is MINE! "

Y/N was expecting an equally abusive retort from Jimmy who was stood in front of her from what she could see past her hair, not a loud laugh from her left.

Jerking her head over to the source of the noise, Y/N managed to swallow a sizeable amount of water, coughing loudly before swimming over to the side of the pool closest to her, which just so happened to be the side from where the laugh had come from.

Clutching onto the side of the pool, she began to attempt to lift herself out, not realizing that she had to actually have upper body strength to be able to do any sort of physical activity.

Brian couldn't exactly get a good look at the girl swimming towards him until she was struggling at the side, her pitiful attempts to lift herself out making him laugh louder. Jimmy was doubled over beside the lounge chairs on the other side of the diving board, Louisa and Emily holding onto the pink float laughing equally as hard. Deciding to be a decent human being, Brian bends down, still laughing, and grabbed her hands.

"Right then love, up ya get."

He immediately regretted his actions upon seeing her...state of dress. Brian’s eyes widened when he took in the soaking wet young girl’s appearance, she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Her hair was dripping wet, flat against her face, but he could still tell that it was thick and beautiful. Her eyes had yet to meet his as she attempted to steady herself on the pavement, a small laugh falling from her mouth as she glared over at Jimmy.

Shit, even her laugh was beautiful.

Brian's eyes then drifted naturally down, cock responding fast to the images that his hazel eyes were sending to his brain. This young woman, this 20 year old girl, his son’s best friend, was wearing what had at some point before her trip into the water, probably been a very pretty white sundress. Now, however, the fabric was clinging to her skin, exposing every single curve, lump, and bump on her body... and more over, exposed the dark green fabric of her bra and light blue fabric of her panties.. for some reason, the fact that she wasn’t wearing matching underwear made him smile, showed that she was still a young woman, someone who wasn’t concerned with matching her panties to her bra.. he liked it a lot. Shaking his head a little in self disgust, Brian gently dropped Y/N’s hands, not wanting to seem creepy.

 The action jerked Y/N from glaring at Jimmy, her eyes looking up at the person who’d helped her out of the pool for the first time since she’d been “rescued”. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she looked up, I mean, who else could’ve been the one to pull her out of the pool but Brian?

However, the moment her eyes met Brian’s, Y/N swears her entire body sets alight.

Ever since she was a young girl, around 10, she’d had the biggest crush imaginable on the curly haired guitarist. Her mom was a massive Queen fan and had facilitated her daughter’s love of the band, and Brian, and had bought her absolutely any poster, album, T-shirt, anything she wanted.. god, if her mom could see her now. Eyes wide, Y/N took in the appearance of the man in front of her.

Shit, he was hot.

Sure he was almost 51 years old, 31 years her senior, but she would’ve never known just from his looks, he was as beautiful a man as she’d ever seen, and the hormones coursing through her body as his eyes stared into her’s were enough to kill a goddamn horse. His hair was still as dark as ever, famous curls bouncy and framing his face perfectly. And god, his FACE... He had aged like a fine burgundy, and much like her favorite red, his gaze was leaving her feeling warm and slightly dizzy.

There were a few well placed smile lines around his eyes, which were on full display as he smiled down at the young woman, eyebrow cocked at her wide eyed expression, a look which caused a red hot blush to erupt onto her face and all down her chest.. Fuck, she might as well have been naked standing in front of him with as much as her dress was covering.

His eyes were dark, predatory almost, as he looked down at her expectedly. The young woman simply cleared her throat, smiling shyly up at the older man, sticking her hand out to him.

"This certainly wasn't what I was imagining our first introduction to be Mr. May, but thank you for rescuing me."

Brian waved away Y/N's hand, instead electing to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a hug, his hands trying to disobey his mind and move further down her body.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a beautiful young woman like you drown! The men of Britain would never forgive me."

Y/N laughed, a shaky little thing it was, but honestly nobody in their right mind could blame her for the instability in her voice, not when a black tank top clad Brian May's hands were dangerously close to her ass,and with her dress being soaking wet like it was, she could almost feel the callouses on his fingertips against her skin.

"Um, thank you Mr. May... but, I don't think the men of Britain would dare do anything to harm you. You're a national treasure."

It was Brian's turn to blush, something he hasn't done in a few decades,but for some reason the attention from this gorgeous young woman was making him feel things he hadn't felt in a long, long, time. Chuckling, Brian reluctantly pulls away from the hug, remembering that his children were watching the two of them, and that Anita was only a couple hundred yards away inside the house.

"Now that is some high praise coming from you Y/N. I can see why Jimmy had kept you hidden from all of us heathens..."

Turning towards his son, Brian's hand brushes down Y/N's  shoulders, coming to rest at the small of her back, fingers splaying out as wide as they could. He was desperate for as much contact with her as possible, and if absolutely disgusted him to no end.

Jimmy took great offense to his dad's comment, claiming that he wasn't hiding Y/N away from the May family, simply "protecting them" from her insanity. Had it not been for Brian's hand seemingly burning into her skin, she probably would've retorted with something equally as witty and biting, but in that moment, the poor woman couldn't even remember what color the sky above her was, much less think of something sarcastic to say to her best friend.

Luckily, she didn't have to think of anything, as the patio door opened a few seconds late and Anita walked out carrying a large coal colored towel, a smile on her face.

It made Y/N sick to her stomach.

Not because she didn't like Anita, no she rather liked her to be quite honest, but the thoughts running through her head about the woman's partner were obscene. Never once in her 20 years on Earth had she ever thought that she would be in this situation...not that she was in any situation at all, yet. But if Brian didn't remove his hands from her back soon,Y/N was going to abandon all of her morality and fuck her best friend's dad, partner or not.

Thankfully, Brian noticed Anita and quickly, albeit reluctantly, removed his hands from Y/N's back, electing to shove them into his pockets to avoid raising any suspicion from the red haired woman walking towards the pool.

"I've brought you a towel love! Seems like Jimmy would have at least had a little foresight to collect one for you before he decided to send you for a swim."

Anita was smiling from ear to ear, swiftly wrapping the plush fabric around Y/N's shivering shoulders, bringing her in to place a small kiss to her cheek in greeting.

"You poor dear! You're absolutely quivering!"

Oh she didn't even know the half of it...

"Bri, love, take the poor girl to her room and let her get warmed up, that fabric might look amazing when dry, but when wet, it's absolutely useless."

The older woman then turned her back to the two and headed back to the house after giving Jimmy a rather stern look, which he simply rolled his eyes at.

Wrapping the towel around her shoulders tightly as she could, Y/N chuckled a little, she wasn't cold at all, in fact she was absurdly warm. The shuddering of her shoulders, shaking of her hands, had been caused by a wetness, just not the one Anita had thought.

Brian's mind had gone straight for the gutter as soon as his girlfriend had suggested he take Y/N to her room, imagining her creamy legs thrown over his shoulders, cunt pulsing against his tongue. Fuck, he needed to stop, his jeans were tight enough as it was without the added strain of a swollen cock.

Clearing his throat, Brian slaps a smile onto his face, turning to Y/N, extending his arm for her to take.

"You heard the missus love, let's get you out of those wet clothes. "

He wasn't sure if he had genuinely meant for his words to sound so suggestive, but when he looks over at Y/N 's face and sees the scarlet blush covering her skin, Brian can't help but send the young woman a wink, unaware that he had just managed to decreased her life expectancy by a good 7.4 months.

Trying to act completely unaffected by Brian's actions, Y/N happily accepts his arm allowing him to lead her up the trail from the pool towards the house. The back of the house was just as gorgeous as the front, the Tudor style architecture even more grand than the bits in the front. Looking up just a little, Y/N gives Brian a gentle, somewhat shy, smile.

"I absolutely adore your house Mr. May, the style is one of my favorites."

Gaining just a bit more confidence, Y/N allows herself to scoot closer to Brian, until her hip is right against his as they ascend the stairs. The action seems innocent enough, but Brian knows differently, he's seen this move countless times over the years, and seeing this beautiful young woman, who he absolutely should not be thinking of in the way that he was, use it? While excited that she might not mind him being so close and intimate, he's still felt a bit disgusted and ashamed of himself for thinking the things he was..

Still, her innocent little compliment about the house made him smile down at her, canines grazing his bottom lip as he does so.

"Thank you dear. It's not too shabby, four walls and a place to lay my head down at night."

The two share a little laugh as they enter the house, Y/N reluctantly removing herself from his side so he could open the door for her.

"I'd say it's a bit more than four walls Mr. May, it's absolutely stunning, and I can only hope to live somewhere like this one day."

She's not actively trying to butter him up, but when Y/N sees the slight blush on his face at her compliments, she can't help it.

Brian knows he's as red as a beet, he can't even hide it, but the young woman's compliments were just having an effect on him that he didn't foresee. He wanted her to keep giving him compliments, to keep paying him as much attention as humanly possible.

The older man shoots Y/N a wink, bending over to grab her suitcase from the kitchen floor where she's dropped it when Emily had come barreling into her. Y/N tries to protest, insisting that she's perfectly capable of carrying her own bag, which Brian simply smiles at.

"Oh I have no doubt about your abilities my dear, but my Mum didn't raise me to allow a young lady to carry her own luggage."

He gives her a gentle smile, walking back over to her and placing his hand on the small of her back, lightly pushing her in the direction of the stairs. The two are quiet during the walk to the stairs, Y/N too busy trying not to pass out to speak. Brian, however, is desperate to learn more about the young American.

"So love, Jimmy said you're an Archaeology student? How in the world did you pick that up living all the way across the pond? "

He's genuinely curious, Y/N can tell, and that makes her heart feel as if it's going to burst right out of her chest. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she smiles brightly, a small laugh escaping from her throat.

"My mom is a history professor at the university back home, and when I was younger she took me to Scotland because she was supervising on a dig, and I just fell in love with it. Medieval archaeology is a lot less explored than classical, so that gives me a whole world of possibilities. There's just so much history  that we've yet to unearth, and god, there's just so many stories that haven't been told yet. There's something about being the first person to hold an object in hundreds of years that just makes me tingle. "

Y/N was so focused on her little spiel about archaeology that she didn't notice Brian's intense gaze, because if she had, she probably would've melted into the floor.

If Brian had thought that he was infatuated with this young woman before, hearing her speak so passionately and intensely about Archaeology, seeing the sparkle in her she when she mentioned telling the stories of the forgotten, he was thoroughly invested now. She wasn't just a pretty face and an incredible body, no, she was intelligent, articulate, a scholar, just like him, and it only made him want her more.

She looked up at Brian when she finished speaking, heart pounding when she noticed the look he's giving her. Laughing bashfully, Y/N runs a hand through her hair, wincing just a little in embarassment.

"God, I sound like such a nerd don't I?"

Y/N had always been insanely self conscious about her intelligence, and had been greatly admonished for flaunting it when she was younger, and did God's sake she was talking to Brian May, one of the most intelligent men alive.

Brian only laughed lightly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm a nerd too love, so you're in good company."

Letting his hand fall down to her shoulder, Brian clears his throat, a little taken aback by his own actions. Y/N just smiled at his touch, heart still beating wildly.

"You're just being sweet Mr. May..."

She trails off, hands clutching the corners of the towel around her shoulders, her fingers dangerously close to his.

Brian's breath hitches in his throat, eyes never leaving hers. He knows that he could stay like this all day, staring into her eyes. They were gorgeous, just like everything else about her, so innocent and full of curiosity, he wanted nothing more than to see them wide underneath him as he fucked deep and fast inside of her, making them clench shut in pleasure as he brought her to her peak...

"Um, why don't I show you your room yeah? That way we can get you out of those wet clothes."

He's desperately trying to suppress the feelings that he was experiencing, wanting to just put Y/N in her room so that he could just breathe. Moving his hand back down her back, Brian smiles down at Y/N, pushing her gently up the stairs ahead of him.

Y/N let out a small laugh, nodding her head before heading up the stairs, swaying her hips a bit more than she usually would've, but who could blame her? She had her childhood crush, a goddamn rock legend, behind her, leading her up the stairs of his home. Plus, the wet fabric of her dress was tight against her ass, so she knew that Brian was getting a show.

Brian had to bite his bottom lip to keep from letting the moan that threatened to escape out, his eyes trained to Y/N's  ass as his hand gripped the handle of her suitcase so hard his knuckles turned white. Fucking hell, her ass looked like it was made for him, fat and jiggling with every step. Her hips were swaying just enough to tease him, making his cock swell in his skinny jeans, fuck he should've worn something less constricting.

Thankfully it doesn't take too long to reach the top of the stairs, and Y/N halts her movements, waiting for Brian to reach her and guide her to her room. Originally, Brian had thought to have her stay in the room beside Louisa's, but now that he's met her, now that he was fully lusting over her... He wanted her closer. Smiling down at her, Brian takes the lead, walking one door down from him and Anita's room, pushing the door open with his hip.

"Here we are love, home sweet home."

Y/N laughed lightly at Brian's words, taking in the room. The bed was large, way larger than her own bed back in York, light colored wooden drawers lined the wall, and a beside table of the same material was on the right side of the bed. It was obviously a guest room, but it was still extremely nice, and Y/N felt perfectly at home.

"Its beautiful Mr. May, thank you so much for letting me stay here, you have no idea how much it means to me."

She was being as sincere as humanly possible, even without the obvious interest that Brian had taken in her that made her heart and cunt throb, the fact that Brian had been so welcoming and open with her made Y/N feel extremely happy and less homesick.

Brian let's out a happy sigh at her words, placing her suitcase on the bed before sitting down on the bed and patting the spot beside him, beckoning her to join him. Y/N happily accepts and has to stop herself from practically running to him, gently sitting down beside him, hands in her lap. Her obvious interest in him made Brian feel young again, made his hands sweaty and his brain foggy.

It also made him feel far bolder than he usually would have.

Reaching over, Brian takes Y/N's hand in his, turning it over so her palm was facing the ceiling, before tracing his fingers over the soft skin, eyes trained on his movements.

"You don't have to thank me love, you're Jimmy's best friend, he loves you as much as he loves Lou and Em, so I as far as I'm concerned, you're family.."

His voice is soft and assured, just like his movements against Y/N's skin.

"Although, I have to admit, if I'd known how stunning you were, I would've asked Jimmy to bring you around sooner..."

He knows that he's being inappropriate, that she might not take his advances in the way he was hoping, but he had to try, wanted to try...

Y/N is in shock at his actions and words, not a bad shock, just, pure and genuine shock. His calloused fingertips feel like heaven on her palm, movements gentle and deliberate.

"I-I.. stunning? Mr. May, I'm n-,"

She isn't even able to finish her statement before Brian's lips are on her neck, featgerlight movements causing the young woman to let out a qtuiet whimper.

"Brian... Call me Brian, Y/N."

His hands move to her thigh, thumb rubbing circles onto the delicate skin as he moves back, standing up off of the bed, smirking at the noise of surprise that escapes Y/N's mouth.

"B-Brian..."

Her voice is weak, eyes wide in desperation, begging for him to continue. He'd given her a taste of him, a fraction of what was to come, and as much as she liked what she got, she hated being teased.

Brian smirks, leaning forward, hands on either side of her thighs, eyes dark and full of mischief. As much as he wanted to just go ahead and fuck her into next week, he knew he couldn't, at least not here... Not now.

Placing a kiss to her cheek, closer to her lips than her cheek, Brian stands straight up, walking towards the door, speaking loudly, as if to throw the scent off of what the compromising position they'd just been in.

"Dinner will be ready soon love, I'll send Jimmy to get you when it's finished. Mine and Anita's room is right next to you, so if you need anything tonight, don't hesitate to ask."

His voice lowers, more intimately.

"Absolutely anything..."

Sending Y/N a wink, he taps the door frame and walks from the room, still smirking widely. Y/N is breathless on the bed, completely dumbfounded by what had just happened.

She somehow manages to change out of her dress and brush her hair, slipping on a new bra and underwear under a yellow sundress. Her eyes are still wide, breathing shaky when Jimmy comes.to get her for dinner, not even noticing how shook his best friend was.

Dinner went by without a hitch, Brian was relatively silent, stealing small glances at Y/N while she laughed and joked with his kids, throwing her head back in laughter every time Jimmy would bring up something regarding some party in Nottingham. He didn't hear a damn thing regarding the party, focused solely on the creamy skin of her neck, remembering how soft it was under his lips, imagining how it would feel to sink his teeth into it...

He was so focused on his fantasies that he didn't notice the four run off upstairs as soon as they'd placed their dishes in the sink, only becoming aware of their absence when Emily came bounding back down the stairs, running out the patio door dressed in her swimsuit, followed by her brother and sister, and finally Y/N.

His head pops up when he hears her asking Anita if she needed any help with the dishes, his mouth going dry when he takes in her appearance.

She'd changed out of her sundress, and into a black one piece that accentuated every single curve of her body.

Anita had adamantly refused to allow the young woman to help any, stating that Brian was washing the dishes tonight, and that guests didn't do household chores, which made Y/N chuckle before she nodded her head and headed out of the patio door, turning around to steal a final glance at Brian, smirking as she noticed the deep blush on his chest.

He had always liked having the window over the sink overlooking the pool, in the past it had given him the ability to keep an eye on the kids, which gave him a sense of security. However, it was now only giving him a fucking hard on as he watched Y/N play in the pool.

Brian knew this was wrong, knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way, that he shouldn’t be looking at his son’s 20 year old best friend in the way he was... But seeing her straddling the diving board of the pool, her fat ass barely being contained by the black one piece she was wearing, her thick thighs jiggling every time she laughed and threw her head back.. the way her breasts.. god, her large, perfect, delicious breasts seemed to spill out of the top of the nylon fabric..

 It was a wonder he hadn’t cum in his pants yet, just watching her swim and play around with his daughters.. it was borderline perverse, he was SPYING on her.

 That’s not how it had started out, but the dishes had been washed and rinsed for going on 20 minutes, and the whole time he has just been stood at the window, slack jawed and leaking cum all over the silky fabric of his athletic shorts that he had changed into after their encounter in the guestroom. 

 The straw that ended up breaking the camels back for Brian, what caused him to break down and sprint to the bathroom to take care of himself before anything embarrassing happened, was Y/N standing up off of the diving board, bending over in a mock bow before jumping straight into the water, laughing loudly as she swam over to the ladder, stepping up out of the pool... water dripping down her body, her PERFECT body.. curvy waist, hips that Brian was desperate to bruise with his fingertips, tits that were begging for his mouth, thighs that he needed to smother him while he feasted on her cunt, an ass that deserved to be spanked raw.. all covered and dripping in water, teasing Brian, making him feel progressively more horny with every drop he could see fall between the valley of her breast, and as such, made him feel progressively more disgusted with himself..

 But he didn’t care, he wanted Y/N, needed her, but he couldn’t have her.. not right now at least... his hand would have to do for the time being, until he could get her properly.. and based on the teasing wink she sent his way through the window, it wouldn’t be too long now.You

Outside, Y/N had been putting on a show for Brian, trying her best to make herself appear as appealing as possible on the diving board. When she pulled herself out of the pool, her eyes immediately went to the window, a wide smile pulling at her features when she sees Brian move from her view after she sends him a wink.

Her mom had raised her to be bold, to go after what she wanted, and that's exactly what she did.

Turning her head towards the four people at the pool, Anita had joined them a few minutes after Y/N had walked outside, the young woman quickly mentions running inside to go to the bathroom. Jimmy made a comment about just going behind the bushes, to which Louisa had thrown a beach ball at his head for.

Y/N chuckled and ran towards the house, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach, the feeling bubbling over when she closed the patio door behind her. Heading up the stairs, she tip toes towards the closed restroom door, mouth dropping slightly as she heard the obscene and obvious noises of Brian jerking off inside. Smirking, an idea popped into her head,  so she ran off to her room, grabbing her discarded underwear before returning to her spot beside the door, eagerly waiting for

Inside the restroom Brian was lost in his pleasure, one hand wrapped firmly around his aching cock, shorts not even pulled down, his cock simply pulled out above the waistband. His other hand was clutching the counter top hard, eyes clenched tightly shut as he imagined that his hand was  Y/N's tight cunt clenching around him. He runs his thumb over the tip of his cock, letting out a small whimper at the immeasurable pleasure he was feeling. Yes, he was absolutely disgusted with himself, jacking off to the image of his son's 20 year old best friend coming apart underneath him, her head thrown back in ecstasy as his cock hammered in and out of her.. But he didn't fucking care. He and Anita hasn't been doing too well recently, and as such, he'd not had sex in quite a few months.  But, even without the issues with Anita, Brian was certain that he would still be in the same position; his cock throbbing in his hand as he threatened to spill his seed into the sink of his bathroom.

It didn't take him very long before his balls tightened painfully, and rope after rope of hot cum spurred from his cock, painting the grey marble of the sink white as snow. The noises that came from his mouth were absolutely pathetic, whiny and bitch like, and his knuckle was white against the counter as he bent over, milking his cock for all it was worth.  

He takes a moment to steady his breathing, to come down from his high, before he sits up, tucking his softening, still throbbing cock back into his shorts. Gazing in the mirror as he washes out the sink, Brian is almost embarrassed at what he sees. His face is flushed, chest and shoulders as well, eyes wet with the tears of pleasure that had escaped from them when he came. He looked thoroughly fucked.

Sighing, Brian finishes cleaning out the sink, wiping his hands off as he takes a deep breath, steadying his breathing before he unlocks the door and swings it open, letting out a small gasp of shock when he sees Y/N standing across the hall from the bathroom, dripping wet, smirk on her face as she takes her eyes up and down Brian's body.

Fucking hell, he looked so good, Y/N's mouth was practically watering at his flustered appearance. Giving herself a mental pep talk, she pushes herself off the wall, one hand behind her back as she approaches the older man.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Mr. May, I didn't mean to scare you..."

She was quicker than Brian had been expecting, her arms wrapping around his waist, lips crashing into his bruisingly.

He let out a strangled moan, his own hands coming to rest on her face, cradling her cheeks in them, pulling her even closer to him, wanting to feel every single inch of her against his body. He had barely gotten the chance to his her back before she pulled away, smirking up at him as she leaned up again, teeth grazing his earlobe as one of her hands lowers to his ass, squeezing his cheeks before brushing them forward, slipping a hand into one of his front pockets, her lips never leaving his skin.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him, to shove him into the bathroom and ride his cock with enough force to break the porcelain of the toilet...but, she wanted to draw this out, to tease him like he had teased her earlier in the day.

Pulling away from him she tucks her panties in his pocket, letting her hand brush over his cock as she removes it, leaving the panties behind.

Taking great pleasure in the look of sheer shock and amazement on Brian's face when he pulls the red fabric from his pocket, Y/N bites her lip, brushing her hand through his hair, her eyes trained on his shorts, before she jumps away from him, moving to walk back down the stairs when Louisa calls up to her asking if she's okay.

"Yeah Lou! I'll be down in just a sec!"

Y/N smirks at Brian one final time, descending the stairs as she speaks.

"You might want to wash your pants Mr. May... You've made a bit of a mess." His eyes are still wide, breathing even more erratic, and his cock, his fucking cock was hard again, almost like he hadn’t JUST washed a bucket load of his own cum down the bathroom sink. Bringing the red fabric to his nose, he breathes in deeply, groaning as he smells Y/N’s most intimate scent.  Turning on his heel, he reenters the bathroom, locking the door behind him before stepping into the shower, repeating his previous action which much more furious and desperate movements, her panties flush against his face. Yeah, he was properly fucked.  Tags: @meddows-taylors @toomuchlove-willkillyou @brianmayoucease @leah-halliwell92 @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @rogertaylors-lipgloss @mariekuuuuuh @unofficialbillnye @stephydearestxo @danamaleksworld @dereones98 @glasgowkisschelseasmile @awkwardangelshezza @bellamy1998 @psychosupernatural @warren-lauren @womanwithahotdogstand @oujiacallme @simonedk @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @sam-mercurry-sixx @horrorsinwonderland

[pkg4mumtown]

Waiting for Love (Ch. 3)

A/N: This chapter got away from me and I never got to write what I originally was going to write, so that’ll be in Ch. 4. 

Warnings: None unless you count spicy food, alcohol, and fluff.

Summary: You and Keanu have a couple more dates after the first encounter.

CH. 1 / CH. 2

Taglist: @cuttlefishcatfish @anita-e-taylor @beyond-antares @futuristic-imbecile @samanthagraceg @gwenebear @derangedcupcake @cumberbatchbaps @celestiaelisia @lunaticgurly @onebatch--twobatch @shatter-me-now @fanficsrusz @thecraziestcrayon

After our impromptu first date, Keanu had come back to the art show and bought Freedom for far more than was listed. I scolded him for it and complained endlessly but he laughed it off every time.

Our second date was planned a week or so later when he called me during the week and invited me to dinner. We had talked a few times before the date, which only served to leave me more excited to see him again. He paid for dinner, making me want to scold him yet again but he insisted. His hand held mine gently, with an exploratory touch throughout the night while we were open and honest with one another. He dropped me off back at my apartment complex and had walked me upstairs. We had shuffled our feet and twiddled our thumbs before he made the first move and took my hand. He coaxed me closer to him and I gladly stepped into his warm embrace. I wrapped my arms around him, breathing in his scent before we bid our goodbyes.

I offered to cook him dinner for our third date after he confessed to me that he didn’t cook for himself very much. I was determined to “wow” him and chose dishes I was confident I was exceptional at. I picked up two of the best filets I could find, as well as ingredients for a marinade, a special mac n’ cheese, and a haphazardly snatched bundle of green beans to cut through the food coma I was about to prepare.

I paused with my hand on a can of chilies, wracking my brain through every conversation I had with him to determine if we had talked about spicy food or not. After standing in a lady's way for the better part of a few minutes, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

“Hey, are you okay with spicy?” I asked him in a quick text.

“Food? Absolutely,” Keanu responded surprisingly fast.

“I mean, what else would I have been talking about?”

“No comment…”

My eyes widened as a blush crept up to my cheeks. I swear, this man. I shook my head while biting my lip, feeling the agitation radiating off the lady next to me.

“I just want you to know, you’re contributing to this lady hating me for being in her way.”

“A burden I’m willing to bear.”

I finished up my shopping and headed straight home to prepare for dinner. I set the steaks to marinade while I cleaned my apartment nervously. I decided to work out some of my nervous energy by throwing on music and sketching for a while to clear my head, making sure to set an alarm so I could shower and start cooking.

I shower and change, hoping that the shirt and jeans I throw on are good enough considering it’s my apartment. I’m just about to start cooking when my phone buzzes on the counter. I grab it, thankful that I hadn’t touched any of the food yet.

“Finished my errands early. Is it alright to head over now?”

In all fairness, Keanu would only be a half hour early and who was I to deprive myself of an extra half hour with him. I responded and got back to work. I was nearly finished with cooking when I noticed Sage trotting over to the front door. There was a knock, causing me to frantically move my pot of cheese to a cool burner and wash my hands. I jogged to the front door and opened it with a breathless huff and a wide grin as my eyes landed on Keanu’s face. My eyes travelled down, seeing a leather jacket adorning his shoulders and dark jeans.

“Hey! Come in, come in,” I waved him in and shut the door behind him. “I’m almost done, I just have to do one more thing.”

Keanu smiled at my nervous energy, grabbing my hand before I could take off, “Two more things,” he corrected.

I bit my lip, feeling my face heat up when I realized what he meant. I wrapped my arms around him, taking a leap and gently pressing my lips to his cheek, “Sorry.”

“Just relax,” he chuckled and kissed my cheek with his scruffy face. He shrugged his jacket off and hung it on the hooks next to my front door, revealing a well-fitting V-neck. He set his helmet and backpack next to mine on the entryway table before turning back to me.

“Come on,” I led him to the kitchen.

Sage weaved in between his legs as he walked, causing him to stop and pick the needy cat up. Keanu gave Sage love for a little while before putting him back down and peering over my shoulder as I mixed the noodles in the cheese sauce.

“Wow, this smells amazing,” he claimed, while his eyes travelled over the stove. “I’ve never seen red mac n' cheese before.”

“Well, it’s awesome, spicy, and a little Mexican,” I smirked over my shoulder as I finished. “Pick a drink,” I nodded toward the refrigerator, “I’ll have whatever you have.”

He pursed his lips while looking between the food and the contents of the fridge. His face perked up as he spotted a bottle of red wine, his voice dropping into a low purr as he reached for it, “Ooh, come to daddy.”

I nearly choked as I heard the words leave his mouth, stifling a giggle with the back of my hand.

“What?” he asked, seemingly oblivious but with a small smirk pulling at his lips.  He closed the fridge, clutching the bottle in one hand while looking for the wine opener with his free hand.

“Nothing,” I shook my head, still laughing to myself. I pointed to the drawer that contained the opener while grabbing two plates from the cupboard. I pulled out two wine glasses and set them down in front of him, before busying myself with serving the plates.

I set the plates on the counter next to a pile of chopped cilantro and limes. “I wasn’t sure how you felt about these, so I’ll let you decide what you want,” I gestured toward the garnishes while grabbing a generous amount for myself.

I snagged the bottle on my way to the table, seeing Keanu follow with the glasses in his free hand. I was almost relieved when we started eating and he made sounds of praise toward the food. He caught me staring at his reactions a few times and would hide his smile by taking a sip of wine.

“Man, that was good,” he sighed happily, sitting back in the chair and patting his stomach.

“There’s plenty more,” I waved to the kitchen.

“No, no I can’t even breathe,” he chuckled, finishing the last of the wine.

I watched his tongue gather the remnants of the wine off his lips, making it my turn to blush when I noticed he was watching. As expected, he stood to gather the empty plates and utensils.

“Stop,” I whined, drawing the “o” out, “I’ve got working limbs.” I held the plate firmly between my fingers.

“Mine are longer,” he responded with a hint if mirth in his voice, tugging on the plate.

“I can see that,” I let my gaze drop down his form for a minute. I stood and pried the plate from his fingers, following him back to the kitchen.

“At least let me help wash some of this,” he pleaded.

“I can do it later,” I waved at the sink.

“That milk-crusted pot says otherwise,” he smirked.

“Fine,” I shook my head at him. “Scoot over,” I murmured while bumping my hip purposely against his. He chuckled, responding by bumping his arm against mine.

Keanu was down to the last pot, while I dried off the one before it. He sloshed the soapy water a little too roughly, causing it to splash over onto where our shirts met the counter.

“Keanu!” I shrieked and jumped back slightly at the feeling of the warm water seeping through my shirt.

“I’m sorry!” he laughed.

I scowled playfully at him, wetting my hand under the faucet and splashing droplets at his face with a flick of my fingers. He reciprocated the childish action, his droplets being significantly bigger than the ones I produced.

“No!” I whined before a laugh ripped from my throat. I let the pot clatter on the counter while I backed away from him and wiped my face.

Keanu let the pot in his hands rest in the sink before slapping the lever of the faucet into the “off” position. He stalked over to me with his wet hands curled like claws and playful growls emitting from his throat. He flicked water at me again, causing me to attempt to turn and run while yelping. Wet fingers circled around my forearm before I could go anywhere and suddenly, I was flush against his chest. By now, my body was infected with laughter and I couldn’t stop. His considerably deeper laughter was music to my ears, and I wanted to listen to it forever. I felt the vibrations of his laughter in my chest, which soon died off and prompted me to open my eyes and peer at him.

Keanu's eyes were warm and soft while his grin was replaced by parted lips. My arms were trapped in between our bodies, so I removed them and wound them hesitantly around his lowered neck. One of his hands splayed across my mid back while the damp skin of his other hand met my jaw. I licked my lips, watching his eyes flash down to the movement. As if we were magnets, our mouths gravitated toward each other until I could feel his lips skim mine. I pressed my mouth more firmly against his, relishing the way his fingers pressed into my skin. I let my hands drop to his jaw, sighing contently as his lips closed over my bottom lip. I felt the pressure of his lips dissipate as he pulled his head back. My eyes fluttered open while my lips formed a smile to mirror his.

“More?” I asked.

“Please,” he nodded before my lips were back on his.

Keanu pressed his body flush against me and softly backed me into the counter. His lips were gentle as we took our time getting acquainted with the feeling of one another. I dropped my hands to his waist, fisting the wet material of his shirt as his tongue ran across the seam of my lips. I parted my lips and allowed my tongue to meet his, feeling myself grow giddy at the touch. I let out a whisper of a moan at the slide of his tongue against mine, mixed with the feeling of him pressed against me.

Keanu’s lips separated from mine, letting his forehead rest against my own as we panted. He flashed me an embarrassed smile, “We should probably stop.”

“Probably,” I nodded and waited for him to step back.

We waited out Keanu's diminishing buzz from the wine by throwing on a movie and sinking into the couch. We spoke over the majority of the movie, too interested in one another to truly pay attention to the television. I try to stifle a yawn, making me wonder how late it even was.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Keanu announced, slapping his thighs in emphasis. He removed his arm from the back of the couch, where his fingertips had played with the top of my shoulder. “I’ve kind of been sober for a while, now,” he confessed.

“I wasn’t going to kick you out the second you became sober!” I shook my head, shoving his shoulder playfully.

Keanu just shrugged and threw his hands up with a huge grin, “I was having fun, I didn’t want to chance it!”

“I was having fun, too,” I laughed, taking in the way his eyes brightened when he was enjoying himself.

We eventually got up, nearly bypassing the kitchen before I stopped him, “Do you want to take leftovers? That pot by itself can last me for two weeks and I don’t think it’s meant to last that long.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course! I wouldn’t force you to come back just for me to make more,” I laughed, grabbing a Tupperware small enough to fit in his backpack comfortably.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he murmured, grabbing the handle of the pot and helping me.

My face heated up from his words and the warm cheese being exposed. I sealed the container and handed it to him as we exited the kitchen.

“I really appreciate it,” Keanu held the container up as a reference before securing it in his bag.

“Any time,” I shrugged lightly, wringing my fingers together.

He moved to grab his belongings before glancing at me and thinking twice. He strode back over to me, my arms opening automatically to accept him. I pressed my face into his chest, completely relaxing into his arms.

“Can I ask you something?” I felt him murmur against the top of my head.

“What’s up?” I wondered, pulling my head back and looking up at him.

“How, um,” he took a deep breath, mustering up any courage that disappeared the second I looked at him, “how would you feel about this moving forward?”

“Like a relationship?”

“Yea,” he nodded, letting his fingers press anxiously against my back. He chuckled softly, “You’re turning me into a nervous twenty-year-old again.”

I let a nervous smile adorn my lips, “I’d like that.”

“Really?” his tone of voice switched to a more hopeful one.

“Yes,” I laughed softly, “Are you sure?”

Keanu's hand came up to the side of my neck, letting his thumb brush across my jaw, “I’m positive.”

I raised myself on my toes, meeting him halfway in a sweet kiss. I didn’t immediately pull away, instead diving back into the taste of his lips. The hand he had planted on the side of my neck curled around the back of my neck, his thumb dropping to caress the front side of my throat. His lips took their time separating from mine, not wanting to let go but knowing it would be for the best.

“Text me when you get home,” I requested and tilted my head while staring up at his warm gaze.

“I will,” he grinned, pressing another gentle kiss to my lips before reluctantly separating himself.

He gathered his things while I opened the door, stopping briefly to pet Sage, who had jumped on the entry table. He stopped in front of me before exiting, bidding me goodnight and sealing it with another stolen kiss.

[katreal-fic]

Day 2 — for #fictober 10/02/19

Prompt: “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Fandom: Homestuck

Warnings: Cursing I suppose. 2nd Person POV

Characters: Dirk Strider & Davepetasprite

First | Previous | Next

x-x-x

It was pretty fun, until you got hopelessly lost.

“Just follow me, he said,” Davepeta quotes the you of an hour ago, hiding their fanged smile unapologetically behind their blue ice cream cone, “I know the area, he said. The best pizza ever, he said.”

Dirk > Nurse Your Pride

Your pride is not wounded, and thus does not need to be nursed. Entirely unruffled by the teasing. It does not bother you. You make sure indifference is the air you project as you respond with a mild, unimpressed glare—one they can’t see behind your shades—but you’re familiar enough with their expressive body language by now to realize they find even your glares funny. 

You don’t know how to feel about that. It’s actually quite the novel experience after the probably healthy levels of fear and distant awe your mere presence affords to anyone not connected to your particular pantheon of childhood friends. Who you probably don’t see enough as it is, living secluded out here in your workshop off the coast of the consort kingdom. Which is likely your fault, if you’re entirely honest. You should visit more. You can fuckin’ fly. What’s a couple latitude and several longitude lines to a god?

There’s always an excuse. When the lime-green poison and flashes of white begins to seep through the cracks in your heart you just shut yourself in and work. You’ll figure this shit out. And deal with it. You’ll have to.

You decide not to dwell on it any more than you already have, “Do you even need to eat? You already sweet-talked that salamander outta that ice-cream. You’ve probably already ruined your lunch with that shit.”

“Nah, dad, I’m cool.” They do it to see you twitch, you know they do, even as they take another lick of the sweet treat, “Just cuz I don’t need to eat doesn’t mean I can’t. No stomach, can’t get full. Being of pyurrre energy up in here bro.”

They pat their abdomen lightly to prove their point, the long, almost dress-like robe largely stays some cream color despite the constant gradient shifting, almost giving off an ethereal glow from within. A being of pure energy, huh? You wonder if that’s what they are doing with the food–residual game play processes immediately transmuting the energy into something compatible. You don’t know much about the sprites, for obvious reasons. You never were particularly close to any of the others.

Man, sprite physics has the potential to be fascinating as hell, if you cared to dissect it. It makes for a good thought exercise, mapping out what would happen to all thr excess energy.

“Let me guess, push it too far and you’ll just get hyper as fuck, huh?”

“Yup!” Another lick, a grin. They always seem to be grinning, but that might be just because the overlong canines always seem to peek out mischievously, “Roxy didn’t realize that until we were paws deep in a pumpkin eating contest. In all fairness, neither did I! I could probably devour an entire musclebeast all on my lonesome if I deemed it apurrrrropriate. I’d purrobably be clawing at the walls like Jasprose on catnip if I did tho. Not sure if the consequences are worth poking at it, ya’know?”

That…is something of a mental image. “Have you seen this particular occurrence?”

“Nah, but you remewmber how hopped up she was befur the big battle?”

Like you could ever forget.

“I’m sure you can imagine it then. It’s purrrrrretty hissterical.”

The elongated rs turn into a purring rumble, as expected. They really do go all in on the cat-thing, huh? Can’t be worse than ARquius’ obsession with muscles. And horses. Tho you do have to give him props for that one, Horses are fucking awesome.

Trolls just seem to have a Thing, you guess. Just like the Batterwitch had a Thing for subjugation. Cats and Horses and Muscles seem much more reasonable, framed in that light.

Once the purr runs its course, and you go back to scouring Booble Maps–which are kind of useless outside the Human and Troll kingdoms. The Consorts just Don’t Care and fuck if you know what’s up with the Carapacians–they decide to continue, “It’s just funny, with the way you talked this place up on the way over it sounds like you should have that shit on speed-dial or something. All Prince of Heart’s Seal of Approval, endorsed and all that. Tourism would be booming.”

“I like it quiet. Tourism is the opposite of quiet. Especially when people are here god-watching,” At least Jake’s TV show is filmed an hour’s flight away so you don’t have to deal with his groupies, even if some make the pilgrimage to try and catch a glimpse of you.

You grumble, trying to remember the name of the place. You do have it on speed dial, but it was listed as tmnt instead of using the proper name. Past you had been so proud of the reference. When was the last time you actually went instead of just got delivery sent to your beach-side drone deliverybot? When Dave dragged you out last?

…when the fuck was that?

You shouldn’t get lost. You live here.

Or, well, maybe you don’t. You’re standing here in the shadow of an unidentified Jungle Tree, in some unnamed suburb of the city of Hearthstone. A city that popped up near your abandoned workshop during the big ol’ Time Skip. A dot on the map and a place to deliver your shit. Nothing more.

You surreptitiously check the calendar using your thought controlled computer-shades, realize it’s still set to your personal pre-sburb calendar, marked with all the historical dates from a Time Before Yours and indexed with clips of your Bro and you really aren’t in the mood for childhood nostalgia whiplash, thanks—so you abandon that shit and go back to booble to see if you can find the current date on there.

Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, it’s been two years since Dave visited, although you’ve talked to him since then. You’re nearly twenty.

“Hey bro,” Davepeta, predictably, interrupts your existential crisis in regards to your detachment from the society and narrative in which you live, an unintentional action you mentally thank them for since you are so not in the mood to deal with that either, “That pizza place, was it called Half Shell Piez?”

That rings a bell. You nod, probably a little too forcefully as you mentally close the booble search window and start paying attention to the world around you, “I think so. It’s run by an older couple of turtles, if I remember. How did you know?”

“While you were brooding I asked around. Turns out people remember when two of their gods descend from on high to patronage their pizza joint. C’mon! World’s best hunter is on the case! We’ll stalk them wild piez and feast until we can feast no longer!”

You’re learning not to resist as they drag you away. Maybe they’re right. You really should be getting out more. You don’t even know your own fucking town.

The pizza is just as good as you remember it though. Better even, since you get it hot and steamy and fresh plopped right in the middle of the table in front of you, instead of luke-warm in an insulated delivery bag, sitting out on the table for you to grab as you work. Alone. Here, you find yourself surprisingly good company. You don’t even notice when the ridiculous chatter ends and conversations…shift. They did want to get to know you, after all.

You don’t think your shit is all that interesting personally, especially if you avoid the game shit because no one really liked talking about game shit since you all won, but they listen with rapt attention as you describe growing up in a world alone and feral, learning from and looking up to a Bro long since dead. They turn around afterwards and describe a wriggler, feral and alone, who grew up in the middle of a jungle and learned to hunt from a great purr beast, on an Alternia you’d never cared to learn about before.

You don’t comment when the last slice is gone and the pizza is taken away. You just…keep talking. Exchanging stories in that semi-private booth in a hole in the wall restaurant run by business-savvy turtles, long past an appropriate lunchtime, and well into dinner.

Time becomes a thing to dread, because you know they’ll be leaving tomorrow.

First | Previous | Next

[mrneighbourlove]

Serious Gal and Her Hot Night Out: Burnt Heart Spin off.

Grievous had stayed in the kingdom of Hyrule for a month now since her initial arrival. To be honest, she was feeling paradise here. No more drills, no more academic military studies, and no more being stuck on a hot island. Currently, she was learning how to paint her nails with her older half-sibling.  

"I believe you're getting pretty good there," Urboro inspected Grievous' handiwork as she painted her own nails. Even though she was a Zemlja, she had the hotheaded nature of a Vatra. After a long day out on the fields, Urboro was ready for the nightly entertainment. "Next, I'll show you how to do some sexy eyeliner."

“Ok. If you think it’ll make me pretty.” Grievous was anxious, a brand-new way of life ahead of her.

"You're already pretty, this will make you hot." Urboro instructed. "Okay, now close your eyes and don't move. It will feel wet at first, that's normal. Then it will dry."

Grievous did as she was told, her tail wagging from the sensation. “You told me that there were young men with six packs in town? I researched there a lot of farmers in Hyrule.”

"Yes, there are, but I suppose it depends on your preference." Urboro carefully applied the liquid black eyeliner to accent Urboro's eyes. "If you like men, if you like women, or both. Personally, I like my men like I like my rocks. Hard." She snickered at the implication. "Though I think you will like Muso when you meet him. He's a gentle giant of sorts and very talented with his work in the forge. He helped Aunt Zarazu's friend, Asakonigei, in the forge when she had a lot of orders. He's no Kovina, but still knows how to..." She purred. "Pound and pound and pound..."

Grievous wasn’t at all feeling second hand embarrassment due to Urboro fantasizing sex. In fact, the Dal had been thinking about the possibilities for herself. “Is Muso your boyfriend?”

"Yes, we've been dating for two years." Urboro told Grievous. "It was sort of an accident, how we met. Some pervert in the bar slapped my ass, and I turned around to punch said pervert. Well, I thought the pervert was Muso. I was wrong. It was one of his buddy. Muso then knocked out his asshole of a friend, and apologized to me. Needless to say, I was mortified for punching the wrong man and offered to buy him a drink."

“That’s a nice story. I’d have broken their arms.” Grievous laughed at the thought. “I imagine this ‘pounding’ is nice. You said I’d be exotic to these men?”

"Yes, because you're new. Someone they're never seen before." Urboro then held up a mirror. "All done! You can open your eyes now."

Grievous did so, and she let out an audible gasp. Her new make up looked wonderful with her wild, exotic hair. Happy, her tail wagged back and forth. “I look so different!”

"Heh, not too different." Urboro then took a seat behind Grievous to do her hair. "Listen, you don't have to wear makeup unless you want to. A lot of people say that women wear makeup to impress men. I say bullshit. Wear it for yourself just to feel awesome if you want." She started combing through Grievous' hair. "I'll teach you how to do eyeliner next. Though for now, how do you want your hair? Up? Down? Braids? ... pigtails?"

“My hair? Isn’t it pretty as it is? It goes naturally down does it not?” Grievous was confused, and it showed. “It’s a little thick and spiky to be braided, no?”

"Totally pretty as is, but it's fun to try something different here and there." Urboro used her own hair as an example. "I don't have dreads like my mother, I inherited my father's jet black, straight hair. If I left it down all the time, it'd get boring. So, I put it in braids, or sometimes a tail, or curl it sometimes. You get my point, right?"

"I suppose." Grievous ran her hands through her hair. It was thick, lush, and, most importantly, smooth after a shower. "But if I'm really exotic, shouldn't I keep it the way it is at least the first night? Besides, I believe you mentioned something about men being driven wild by brushing hair with their fingers?"

"True... though a little mousse wouldn't hurt to help show it off. Give it a little more volume." Urboro ran her hands through Grivy's hair. "Now all that is left is T&A and you're good to go."

"T&A?"

"Tits and ass." Urboro finished Grivy's hair and then proceeded to look through her closet. "Hrm... I've got a bigger bust than you, but I think this will do. It's a little small on me, but probably would be perfect on you." She handed Grivy a deep, silky, v-cut crop top and then a pair of tight leather pants. "But we both got a booty. So this outfit should work for you."

"Oh. Thanks." Grievous did her best not to overly smile and let Urboro be let on she was incredibly flattered. No one had really seen her physicality as beautiful or gave it any thought until she came to Hyrule. She loved every bit of care she was being given by her sister and excited for others to see her the same way. "I just have to make one little adjustment." Bringing her finger to the back of the leather pants, she burned a perfect hole in the back. Taking her clothing off, she slipped on only the new clothes as replacements. The crop top went on smoothly, but the pants were a tight fit. From the hole she burned, her tail sprouted outwards. She gave her ass a pat, rubbing the leather. "That's a nice fabric."

"Hey! What are.... oh. I forgot about your tail." Urboro rubbed her chin. "We'll have to make some alterations to the clothes around here, but that would be an easy fix." She then looked at Grivy's backside and thought for a moment. "Hrm... missing something... wait! I got it!" She dove back into her closet and then pulled out a belt, full of jingling accessories. "Here we go... something to announce your arrival and to draw even more attention to your butt. Just clip it on the sides."

"Oh. If you think it will make an appearance." Without looking at her, Grievous used her tail to grab the belt as she was busy with her hands ruffling her hair with a brush in all the right spots she wanted it to be.

"Now, just a few tips," Urboro told Grivy. "There are going to be some guys who want to buy you a drink, or offer to show you a good time, or even ask you to dance. If you like them, then you can say yes. If not, there's nothing wrong with saying no. If you say no and a man doesn't understand that, then that's when you kick him in the crotch and say 'no' really firm, one more time. Give him a hint." She then added, "Or like my Muso, he'll be charming and walk you home, ask to see you again, and then go from there. I lucked out with him."

"Alright. If they try to hurt me, can I burn them or snap their bones?" Grievous buckled the belt, making a twirl to Urboro.

"I would... go with a typical sucker punch." Urboro thought about the inquiry for a moment. "Only really hurt them if it's a life or death situation. I usually just let the ground swallow them up to their neck and leave them that way until they apologize for being a dick."

"Could threaten to have Sylvain to sick em.” Grievous’ energy to get out and explore new aspects of life was rocking her body up and down, even if she kept a rather calm voice. “Let's go! I'm excited to go. I want to met this man of yours."

"Let's just stick to the sucker punch." Urboro assured Grivy. "And one more thing; never ever leave your drink alone. Don't want to get drugged. We'll look after each other, all right?"

"Ok. No looking away from drinks."

There were several bars in the kingdom, but Urboro's favorite was called the Tickle My Citrus. It was a horrible pun about a clitoris, but it did have the best lime margaritas on this side of town. Once inside the building, Urboro ordered herself and Grievous a drink and sat at a small table.

At the table, Grievous took a sip of her drink, squinting a little at the taste. "You know, I'm not a complete stranger to liquor. The Dal grow a selection of wine vines, using the berries for multiple flavours. This is far more bitter than that though."

Her tail was playfully whipping around, making wavy motions with every swallow.

"Tequila is my go-to alcohol. I like the bitter, but if you don't like this one, I could get you a sweet flavored margarita. Let's see," Urboro opened the menu. "They have strawberry, mango, and peach flavors besides lime. Or I could request a mixture of---"

"Ladies..." One of the more forward Hylian guards approached the table. He was halfway to tipsy already. "Which one of you ladies would like to accompany me back to my home tonight?"

Grievous studied him, her eyes examining his movements. He moved like a fish trying to swim on land. As excited as she was for adventure, she knew she could do better. "She's taken. And I'm not looking yet."

"But sweetcheeks, I could show you a really good time..." The guard grinned at her. "Why don't you both come home with me? You and that big ass." With that, he reached out to pinch her backside, but before he could, Urboro had punched him straight in the nose, knocking him backwards.

Shaking her hand, she then scoffed, "You asshole! I just did my nails and you made me break one!" She then called to the bouncer, "Yisi, will you please drag his ass out of here?"

"Sure thing, Ur."

Grievous' tail froze upwards, her eyes narrowing at the man. "I could have done that."

"You can next time, ugh, now I'm going to have to do my nails again." Urboro grumbled, "But that's how you do it. I didn't kill him, but he certainly got the hint. Now, the other guys in here will take you more seriously instead of judging that you're a piece of meat."

"But didn't that mean they only take you seriously? I didn't do anything? You protected me instead of letting me defend myself." Her tail drooped with her thoughts. Once more, Grievous' place on the pecking order with her siblings placed her lower.

"No one messes with my sisters or my brothers. We protect each other. That's how it's done." Urboro explained to Grivy. "If someone tried to touch my ass and I didn't see it, you'd sock him right?"

"Yes. But I saw him coming. Shouldn't I be justified first before breaking him apart?"

"... you want me to go get him and let him try again?" Urboro asked dryly. "I won't apologize for reacting to protect my baby sis."

"No. I'm sorry. Part of me is still seeing this as a competition of you one upping me and not being genuinely caring." Grievous took another swig of her drink. "I'll try not to see it that way anymore."

"Remember, sis, there's no competition here. If you really want a match, you can always sign up for some sparring sessions." Urboro patted her on the shoulder. "Don't think of it of me trying to one up you, just think of it as me trying to look out for you cause you'd do the same for me. We good?"

"Yeah." Grievous finish her beer bottle. Although it was a good first drink, the more she thought about someone trying to make the moves on her, the more her blood boiled. A few people watching the sisters saw Grievous pick up the beer bottle with her tail. With excellent precision, she threw the bottle across the bar, smashing the glass into the guard’s head, knocking him onto his knees just as he was thrown out. Hearing years of practice pay off, she smiled sinisterly. "I'm more than good. Let’s have this fruity drink you were speaking of."

"Hrm... you'd be great at the dart competitions here." Urboro remarked with a snicker. "If you win, you get free drinks for the night. Matter of fact," She looked at the time. "If you hurry, you can sign up for the first game."

"Darts?"

~

Three drinks in. Urboro must have been amazed, because Grievous finally lost almost all tension in her body. Her shoulders were relaxed, she didn't scowl or have resting bitch face, and she was even laughing. The Dal wasn't swaying back and forth or going to far as of yet, but a change was noticeable. Currently, she was kicking her sister's, and anyone bold enough to face her, ass at darts. Throwing three darts, one in each hand and one with her tail, she yelled with victory as she sunk a bullseye first and the two others to get her exact numbers, "Game two! I win again!"

Each time Grievous scored, the men had made a game to take a drink. There was cheering when the darts hit the scoreboard and the downing of shots. Everyone was having a grand time. The patrons in the bar was getting tipsy, but not yet close to drunk.

"Damn, you're good a darts." Urboro admitted defeat. "All right, sis, you've beat me, best two out of three. How about we order some food now? They got great fish and chips---"

"Sugarpie!" Muso made his way through the crowd with a huge basket of fish and chips for his girlfriend. "I thought I heard my woman say she was hungry."

"Hungry for you." Urboro literally latched onto Muso, her hands on his shoulders and legs around his torso. "Where have you been? I wanted to introduce you to Grivy."

"Sorry, sugar, they kept me late at the forge, but I got here as soon as I could, and to make up for it," Muso whispered in her ear. "I'll do that thing with my tongue you like tonight."

"Oh hi!" Grievous smiled, collecting rupees from men she made bets with. She was confident enough to make flirty wagers with her skills for money. Finally meeting Muso, her tail wagged back and forth. "Ah, you must be Muso. Urboro spoke a great deal about you."

"So you're little Grivy," Muso gently set Urboro back on her feet and pulled a chair up to the table. Taking one of the chips to munch on, he then said, "It's nice to finally meet you. Odd family dynamic you got going on there, but no judgement from me, I got two half-brothers and a half-sister due to mom having three different husbands. Divorced my dad, her second husband died, and her third husband is still living."

"Babe, didn't you say you were going to bring Stigr here too?"

"Oh, he's here, he's just ordering a round of drinks for everyone." Muso pointed out his friend by the bar. "Tall guy with white streaks in his hair? That's him."

Grievous wasn't listening to much, digging into the fish and chips set in front of her. "I have hundreds of half-siblings, but a number is number I guess. It's about who you form bonds with."

"I think you'll like Stigr though, Grivy." Urboro pulled the food away from her sister long enough to get her attention. "He's from Uskar and a warrior just like you."

"Oh yeah, he's a great sparring partner." Muso told the Dal. "Matter of fact, he's got this really unique style. He likes to use the trees to do his scouting."

"Uskar? The Empire taught us about them in great detail. Where is he?" Grievous looked around, and the moment she did, she came face to face with who she was looking for.

"I didn't know if the ladies wanted another round of margaritas or a beer so I got both." Stigr set the tray of drinks down on the table and then looked at Grievous with a wide grin. "So you're the new addition to the family that Urboro was telling me about at work." He was not as large as Muso, but he was still a burly man and had heterochromia; one blue eye and one brown. "I noticed you were kicking ass at darts. Where did you get so good?" And oddities upon oddities... he had a long, white tail.

Grievous was looking down at his long appendage, fascinated by it. Her own brown tail wagged herself, catching Stigr's gaze. "Wow, I didn't know you were like me."

"...? Like you?" Stigr looked confused. "I'm not Dal. I'm Uskarian."

"I think she means the tail, dude." Muso gestured to the friend's extra appendage.

"Oh! Oh yeah, I got a tail too. Lots of Uskarians do." Stigr took a sip of his drink. "Wolves, leopards, and even snow monkeys like me.”

Grievous watched as he sat down, taking an offered margarita. An audible 'ooo' left her as she took a taste. "It's so sweet."

"That's the peach flavor." Stigr shrugged. "Figured you'd like the more fruity flavors than the citrus, no offense, Ur."

"Citrus is not the only thing that tastes a little... bitter." Urboro winked at Muso who promptly turned red in the face.

"You have no filter."

"And you love me for it."

Grievous looked at Stigr with intrigued interest. "It's really nice to meet you Stigr. I'm Grievous. People seem to be calling me Grivy for short. You live in Hyrule for long?"

"Grievous is badass, but Grivy... I like that, it's cute. Both badass and cute." Stigr laughed. "I've been here for about five years now. I came to actually study the plants. I scout back in Uskar, but here, I study herbs that can be used for medicine so when I go back to Uskar one day, I can help plant the fields and grow them. So far, I've taken three trips with new plants."

"Everyone usually has a dual job in Uskar," Muso told Grivy. "Scout, farmer, blacksmith, fishermen, take your pick. Everyone has to learn a trade, but also how to survive."

"I was trained by the Kikai Empire to be a solider. Not good with melee weaponry, but I excelled in my studies of martial arts, ranged weaponry and tactics. They wanted me to become a General for a new generation. But I liked my freedom too much to be tied down. That's the badass part of me." For the briefest of moments, she looked at Stigr with the light glow of a beautiful fairy with the smile she flashed him. "You think I'm cute though?"

"Well, you got to do something that makes you happy, otherwise, you're going to be miserable. That's no way to go through life." Stigr then laughed and asked, "Is that a trick question? Of course you're cute."

"Flirt alert." Urboro coughed under her breath.

"Oh, shut up."

Under the table, he felt his tail be stroked by hers. It was hard to tell by her face if she did it on purpose. "You know, I'm going to be staying in Hyrule more permanently, so I'm not leaving any time soon."

"Should we get you two a room?" Muso asked his friend.

"Well, she's currently sharing my elder sister's bedroom, so yes, they should get a room," Urboro hinted to Grivy. "Because if she brought him back, Dad would blow a fuse. Literally. You should have seen him when I brought Muso home."

"That bad?" Stigr asked with a snicker.

"Let's just say I was worried my ass was going to have third degree burns."

"Let's leave the two flirty-birdies to themselves for a bit." Urboro leaned over to whisper to Grivy. "He's a good one, don't worry. And I slipped a condom in your back pocket, for the love of the spirits, use it cause you don't need a mini-monkey right now."

The hell was a condom? Grievous didn't give it much thought. The Dal waved goodbye to her sister. "You two have fun."

Now more alone with Stigr, she leaned a little more over the table. "I don't have experience with this sort of thing, but I like to follow my instincts. What do you want to do now? This is a real sweet drink by the way."

"Experience with darts and drinking or with flirting?" Stigr inquired, using his tail to brush up and down Grivy's own. "Look, I usually don't do the whole bar and one-night stand thing, but a good time I'd never turn down as long as you're up to continuing a relationship. My mother will give me hell if I don't settle down at some point. Want to get out of here and walk and talk?"

"Flirting. And yes. I think a walk is a good start." As they got up, she took his hand. He was nice and sturdy to lean against. What felt far nicer was when she wrapped his tail around his. God, her tail rubbing against his thicker fur was incredible to her nerves. "You got a lot of family back home?"

"... three, incredibly annoying, baby sisters." Stigr nearly purred when her tail ran over his. It had been a long while since he had a female in his bed. Though, he was attempting to be a gentleman. Only if she showed interest, then he'd go forth with it. And thus far, she was showing quite a bit of interest... in his tail. His weak spot. He led her along the path, leading by the beautiful flowers illuminated by moonlight. "My parents actually talked about never having kids but look what happened. Ironic, isn't it?"

“You want irony? Thanks to my father, I’m one of over six-hundred half children of his. Urboro and my half siblings on her side are new additions to me I only discovered last month when my curiosity led me to track down the old man. Before you ask, it’s very complicated, but I don’t think when he met Zizi he planned on having so many kids too.” Grievous did indeed notice the flowers. The tail rubbing started to get her heated, but she kept it to herself rather well. She certainly picked up his purring though.

"By Rotar, I'd hate to be at that family reunion. Could you imagine trying to know all the names?" Stigr jested in good humor. "Though, from what Ur says, you're happier here. You're even trying to learn a trade, and helping out on the plantations when you can." He decided to test the waters, per se, and ran his hand down her back, settling at the base of her tail. "And that you're good with your... hands..."

Grievous paused, her trademark serious coming through. If they wanted to continue, she had to know how willing he’d be to commitment. “Are you willing to be committed to be in a serious relationship?”

"...? Yes?" Stigr thought she was trying to once again, ask him a trick question. "I don't know much about Dal culture to be honest. Though in Uskarian culture, there is a time of courtship, the presentation of a ceremonial cloak, and then eventually marriage. Although, Vidar and Princess Kanisa sort of did things... well, backwards."

“You take me too seriously. My fault I suppose. To be simpler, you looking for a girlfriend you’d treat fairly?”

"Heh, nothing wrong with being serious. Be serious, get a serious answer." Stigr replied with a bit of cheek to his tone, grinning from ear to ear. "Treat fairly, with respect, seen as equals... except just one thing."

“What would that be?” Grievous pulled herself closer.

"I get to do the ass slapping." With a hard smack, Stigr gave Grivy's backside a smack and then hopped into the nearest tree with a smirk. With snow monkeys, this was a game of tag. Yet, it was definitely used to spice up the mood. Not only tag, but a game of prey and predator. "Catch me if you can, Grivy." Then he bounded through the trees.

Grievous was so ready to pounce him on the spot had he not bounded off. Now, being offered a challenge, she suddenly became less horny and more competitive. Did dates in Hyrule or Uskar turn into hunts? So be it. She’d catch him no matter what. “You’re mine.”

She sprinted up the tree best she could. These tight clothes made her ass shine like a beacon in the night as she limberly chased after him. Her own tail helped her grip branches as she sought him, leaping from tree to tree under the moonlight. Working up a bit of sweat, she gave it all to catch him with one last pounce. “Got ya!”

When Grivy pounced on him, Stigr turned to catch her. Rookie mistake, he anticipated that. He grabbed her by the hips, spun her around, and pinned her against the tree with a loud purr, flicking his tail.

"Now who has who?"

With her arms pinned, a flash of attraction flashed in her eyes. Using her tail, she pulled him close, and leaned up to kiss him with a deep purr. “I got you.”

"Sneaky one, aren't you?" Stigr chuckled and then returned the kiss with enthusiasm. He then started a trail of kisses down her throat, before nibbling over her jugular vein. His tail ran curled between her legs, rubbing against her womanhood.

With no panties, and the tight silk pants offering little room between her womanhood and tail, Grievous started to pant. Her tail whipped around erotically, anticipating more. “Do Direnor or people of Hyrule tend to go to those lengths outside? I’m not saying to stop, but...”

"Hylians? Nah. Direnors? We fuck outside when mating season roles around or even for fun." Stigr told Grivy with a low growl, smelling her arousal. "Even got a Pleasure House where you can choose your partner or partners for the night."

“Oh. Good. Us Dal love to make love be it in the trees, by the beach, or mountain top.” Her hands grasped his shoulders, her tail pulling his own. “Do you want to fuck me? I’m ok with it Stigr.”

"I'd like to... but only if you're sure." Stigr reminded Grivy. "Direnors can be... a little rough. Don't want to spook you or scare you off."

“I don’t see anything to be scared of.” She leaned up to kiss him again. Be confident, just like Urboro said. That saying no at anytime was allowed. “I’d like to too.”

"Then how would you like to begin?" Stigr asked Grivy as he ran his hands down her sides. "You're beautiful, you got a sexy body, and seems like you got a sweet personality... even if you did brutally beat those guys in darts without a sense of remorse. That was hot."

“I also threw a beer bottle without looking from across the room at some sleezeballs head with my tail.” Her hand went to his bulge, grasping it with a firm grip. Was big. Urboro said it might be. “How’s that for a start?”

"Would be impressive if next time you just caught his ass on fire with a wink." Stigr jolted when she grabbed his crotch, but her touch was not unwelcome. "I guess you know how excited you make me. It's not everyday that you see a female that's so sure of herself. And that's why," His fingers slipped into her tight leather pants, pulling them down to her ankles. "I think you need a bit of a... skilled touch to please." Nudging her legs apart, he had her standing, leaning against the tree, while he proceeded to lap at her folds.

Grievous raised her hands above her head, trembling as Stigr started to lick at her bright pinkness. She felt so loved. This was attention she never dared to dream was possible. “Oh, oh wow.”

She approved of his oral technique. So, Stigr decided to take it a step further. While his tongue was occupied with her folds, his tail teasingly rubbed over her clit. His fingers then gently teased her opening, inserting one, then another, doing a scissor-like motion inside of her.

Grievous in turn gripped his skull, tightly holding on for support. Her body was so hot, that she felt bolts of pleasure rush to her head. “Oh Stigr. That’s amazing~”

The small bit of pressure to his skull only turned his on further. Stigr did not mind a bit of roughness. Though, would she like it? Just to test the waters, he gave a hard slap on her ass, at the same time he flicked her clit.

“Oh GOD!” She crushed a little harder, her hips bulking towards him to stuff him further.

"Hrmmm, I'll take that as a compliment," Stigr said cheekily as he gave a long, slow, teasing lick to her clit, just to see her shiver. "But I'm no deity.

The girl took a few moments to breath and calm her nerves. Was hard when her stomach felt so tight from pleasure. “What next? Do I pleasure you?”

"I honestly don't think I'd last overly long if you did." Stigr chuckled, being honest. "I was already turned on while watching you do your thing."

“I want to try.” Grievous got on her knees, kissing down his chest per instruction from her sister. Grabbing his pants and underwear, she pulled them both down. Her eyes were suddenly glued by his appendage.

The longer Grievous stared, the more Stigr wondered if something was wrong. She was looking at his erection like it was something... new. Wait a minute...

"... Grivy, you have seen one of these before, right?"

“Yes. I just... never this close to me.” Her hands steadily grasped his erection. Without giving into any more hesitation, her lips clomped down around his tip. It was a little salty, but she started to lick and suckle it. Show no fear in the face of the unknown her instructors echoed in her mind. They probably didn’t plan for her to use their advice for this scenario though.

"Wait, are you a---fuuuuccck..." Stigr took a sharp inhale when Grievous was suddenly so eager to please, but he had to know. "Wait, wait, wait, fuck, that feels great, but there is a concern," He gently pushed her shoulders back. "You haven't had sex before, have you?"

“No. You’re my first.”

"That's what I thought... not that it's a problem!" Stigr quickly said. "Everyone always has a first, I just... well... I don't want to cause you anymore discomfort than necessary. Maybe you should let me make you cum first a couple of times. Get you more relaxed."

“I thought that’s what I was doing.” Grievous leaned in again. This time, when she sucked him off again, not only did she dare to go deeper with him down her throat, she pulled and massaged his tail with a sneaky hand. Her lips sucked down tightly over the pull of his dick.

"SHIT!" Stigr was not expecting the sudden grope of his tail, the pleasure going straight up his spine and to his head. He climaxed suddenly, shaking from head to toe. "Sorry, I... good Rotar, you have a tongue, but my tail is sensitive. I should have warned you."

Grievous wasn’t quick enough, or really knowing what to expect. She chocked a little as he pulled out, her face becoming drenched in cum. Swallowing what she could, the Waku gave him a smile as she stood up. “It’s ok. Little startling, but I’m fine.”

Carefully, she took off her top, leaving her pants hanging far down low so she could stretch her legs. The spring night of Hyrule was warm, but even if it wasn’t her naturally hot body kept her warm. Turning, she leaned against the tree, sticking her thick ass at him. With a turn of her head, she still had some cum on her face she was licking and swallowing. Her instincts told her this would drive him wild. The art of the tease could undermine your opponent to falling right into one’s hands. “It’s ok to be sensitive. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

"Nope... not at all..."

Her licking the cum was hot. Her suddenly undressing was like a strip tease. But the presenting of her ass? Now, that he was not expecting. Stigr felt his member twitch back to life again, just seeing her round, supple backside, waving at him. A primal sort of need started stirring within him. His animalistic side was starting to show a bit, more fur sprouting on his body in places. Though, he did want to savor this moment, just for a little bit.

Stigr ran his hands over her ass, cupping the thick cheeks there. He loved how aroused she smelled, loved the scent of his cum on her, and loved how forward she was being. A female who definitely knew what she wanted and how to get it... that, he adored.

Purring, Stigr placed kisses along her spine before giving her backside a little nip. Then, he lined up his cock between her legs, rubbing his length back and forth across her folds. Teasing.

Grievous growled, her hands clawing the tree for support. Her tail couldn’t stop whipping around, every once in a while, hitting his chest lightly as a signal to stop messing around.

"Impatient, are we?" Stigr wrapped his tail around hers. While he was eager, and so was she, it was best to take things slow the first time. Lining up his member with her entrance, Stigr pushed inside, reveling how hot she was, how her inner walls were gripping him. To distract her from any pain, he made sure one hand cupped her breast while the other was busy with her clit.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh goodness.” Grievous gripped the tree with her arms, holding on tightly as Stigr broke her virginity. Everything felt tight, like her body was breaking open. When he tugged at her tail, her walls only closed tighter. “I’m sensitive at my tail.”

"Good." Stigr whispered huskily into her ear, giving a hard thrust inside and at the same time, giving her backside another harsh slap. His tail rubbed against hers, curling. He recalled how she reacted when he gave her a spanking. Maybe there was a fetish there to explore later. Though, for now, Stigr wanted Grivy to feel something new... something blissful with this experience. He kept a steady pace, trying to listen to her body for what she liked.

Grievous was panting badly every time her tail was tugged or her ass was slapped. Soon enough into the experience, her body was molded around the shape of his dick, and she started to push back into him. “M-more. It feels like nothing I’ve felt before.”

"I'll make you feel even better." Stigr could sense her was getting close by the way she was trembling. Her body was not used to the sensations. While Grivy was panting hard, she was enjoying the stimulation. He could feel her pressing back into him, even demanding more. In sync with his thrusts, Grivy used one finger to flick her clit, sending a jolt throughout her body. "Don't hold back... just let go."

Grievous screamed loudly, a primal sense of freedom roaring, demanding to be let out. Her inexperienced body gave into Stigr’s command, and clamping hard with her pussy, she had her first orgasm. “Stigr! Yes! Oh god!” Her tail wrapped around his arm, tightening to find a sense of grounded reality.

Gripping her hips tightly, Stigr gave one thrust, then two, and climaxed, hard. His tail curled around her leg. He was breathing hard, having to hold onto Grivy's hips to make sure he did not crumple. This woman was definitely something else.

"You are divine..."

Grievous moaned loudly as he climaxed in her. As cum pumped into her, her hands made burns on the tree she held, black charcoal signifying her loss of virginity. “Stigr... you... that was amazing. Are all dates this amazing?”

"All dates can be this amazing." Stigr gave her a playful nip on the ear. Carefully, he removed his cock and fixed his pants. Then he helped Grivy with her pants and her top. "Heh, and I'd like to think I'm amazing, but you're probably just going to inflate my ego more. You're the one that wowed me."

“Does this mean you want to be my boyfriend?” Grievous blushed at the feeling of his cum staining her sisters clothing. Surely Urboro wouldn’t mind.

"Only if you want me to be. I mean... it's hard to find someone who is willing to date me." Stigr admitted to Grivy honestly. "I had to go back and forth a lot for my job. Sometimes for a month or two at a time. It's not ideal, I know, but I understand if you say no."

“That wasn’t what I asked you.” Grievous suddenly had a very commanding tone. “I like you. I feel a connection, and not just because you were a good fuck. I asked you a question I want you to answer. Do you want to be my boyfriend? Because I want to be your girlfriend. Unless you think that a one night stand was all you can handle.” Her tail smacked the tree, breaking a splinter off.

"... demanding, are you? How's this for an answer?" Stigr quirked an eyebrow at Grievous, tilting her chin up to look at him. "I would like to be your boyfriend as you put it. You're an interesting female, Grivy, just like your sister said. I'm glad she had the ideal to set us up."

“I’m glad to have met you.” Grievous wrapped her arms around him, giving him a warm hug. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

"I... don't have a place of my own yet." Stigr admitted with a frustrated groan, "I'm bunking with Muso and a few of his friends. We wouldn't be alone." He tried to think of what Urboro said about her family. "Wait... does your mom---I mean, your stepmom still have that treehouse?"

“Yes. We can stay there. I’ll keep you warm.”

~

The next morning, Grievous woke up laying on top of Stigr. She lulled him to sleep with one more session of sex. This time, she did something he referred to as ‘cowgirl’ position. Was very fun, if a little physically demanding. When he started to stir, Grievous moved her thick hair out of her face. Her bed hair was wicked crazy. “Morning there.”

"Hmm, hmm..." Stigr was not a morning person and groggily looked at his surroundings. "... either I'm still dreaming or I got a hot babe on top of me."

“It’s the latter.” She kissed his forehead, letting him get one last look at her bare body before bending over to get changed. “I have to go back home, but you’ll come by my house soon for another date? I’ll play darts with you.”

"Sure, I promised Muso I'd help him with some new orders today, but... oh fuck." Stigr then realized it was indeed morning and jumped to his feet, fixing his pants and hopping around. "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, he's going to kick my ass, I promised I'd be there." He nearly tripped over his own tail trying to hurry. "I had the best time, you're great, the sex was great, I swear to Rotar I'll come by tonight and take you out for this new dish called Piz-Zah, you're amazing, I got to go!" He gave her a kiss on the cheek before hopping out of the treehouse, calling after her. "See you later, Grivy!"

Grievous smiled softly, waving him goodbye. A hand to her cheek, she sighed dreamingly. The Dal didn’t want this floaty feeling in her chest to go away. Making sure she was cleaned up, Grievous went back to her residence. Soon enough after having shower, getting changed, and cooking herself toast, Urboro came through the door. All Grievous had to do was give her a mischievous grin.

Urboro stopped. She stared. She sniffed. Then she gasped with a high squeal of delight.

"You... got... laid!!!!" She did a little happy dance in place. "Hell yeah! My matchmaking worked!" She then pulled Grivy over to the dining table. "You got to tell me all the details, was he good? Did he treat you nicely?"

“He did. He treated me so well.” Grievous set her dish down, ready to get into all the details. “First, we went on a romantic walk together. Afterwards, he swatted my ass and we chased each other through the trees until he caught me as I lunged at him. With that he pinned me against a tree and we kissed deeply. Afterwards, I went with my feelings and made all the motions like you said I should to get him riled up. Along with some of my own moves. After that...” Grievous paused, giddy at the memory. These girly emotions were so new to her. “He went low and licked me deeply. Then I went down on him orally in return!”

"Damn, you move fast." Urboro's eyes were literally sparkling as Grivy relayed the intimate details. "I'm glad Stigr was good to you and it seemed like you got a good dose of pleasure. Though, the most important question remains!" She took a sharp inhale and then blurted out. "Did he have a big dick?"

“He had a dick this big.” Grievous stretched her hands from one another to emphasize size. “I got him to blow his sticky load into my mouth by pulling his tail. Seems we’re both sensitive with them. Afterwards, I turned my ass for him, and holding onto a tree, he fucked me. He fucked me so hard.”

"I caught him staring at your ass, I'm surprised he didn't try to mark his territory by leaving a bite mark on it." Urboro giggled and then added, "And are you going to see him again? Not too bad for your sister setting you up with one of her man's friends, hrm?"

“Oh yes. I got him to become my boyfriend. Oh Urboro, it was so magical. Thank you so much for your part. The feeling of him pounding into me, his sticky load filling me up, his kisses and bites on my back.” Grievous took the condom out of her pocket, handing it back. “Your good luck charm worked it’s magic. After making love at outside, we went another at the tree house and slept together. I never felt so alive and happy being so close with another.”

"....?!?!" Urboro looked at the 'good luck charm' and then seemed a little pale in the face. Wait, she should not rush to assumptions. Maybe Stigr used one. Or maybe he smelled that she was not in heat, couldn't get pregnant. She knew Direnors could do that. "Uh... why didn't you use this?"

“Use what?” Grievous looked at her older sister with growing curiosity. “You look like you just threw up. Did the alcohol get to you last night?”

"This is to... like go over the dick. To prevent uh... pregnancy." Urboro felt her mouth go a little dry. "Didn't your people use these?"

Once more, Grievous shook her head. She’d never seen that rubber object before. “No. Everyone knows that you can only get pregnant with an injection. It was how I was born.”

"... you can get pregnant by sex too." Urboro swallowed. Hard. "Grivy, forgive this stupid question, but you do know that sex is for reproducing right?"

Grievous blinked. Hard. Grabbing some water, she sat in stunned silence as she took a drink. “This means that I... oh no.”

"Let's not jump to conclusions!" Urboro said quickly, trying to reassure her sister. "Stigr probably wouldn't have had sex with you if he could smell that you were in heat. I mean, Direnors have very sensitive noises that way. And just for good measure, take this," She went over to her bag and pulled out a small bag of leaves. "Eat this. It prevents pregnancy. I take it everyday. Never know when the urge for a good dicking will hit you."

“He promised to come by again tonight.” Grievous quickly devoured a leaf as fast as was allowed.

"Okay, well, until then, let's just go over some basic sex education that I had no idea that you lacked." Urboro flopped down on her chair and groaned. "Sorry, Grivy, I'm such an idiot. I thought you knew since you knew what sex was. I shouldn't have assumed like that."

“It was still a fun night regardless.”

"Well... I guess as long as you're happy, that's what is most important." Urboro gave Grivy a small smile. "Just wait until you see his other form. He's white as snow with a little brown stripe down his back, and brown on his belly."

“Other form? Does it make for a better lover?”

"That I don't know. But his other form is a giant monkey. He's so poofy." Urboro snickered. "Looks like a Munja had a field day with his fur."

“Poofy like me?” Grievous pointed at her hair. “I’d like to see that. Hey Urboro?”

"Heh, maybe if you ask nicely enough, he'll do so." Urboro looked up at Grivy. "Yeah, sis?"

“I don’t think I’d have any luck on my own without you. Never imagined I was pretty enough to find a companion. Thank you for being a spectacular sister.”

"You had all the right pieces, Grivy, you just needed someone to help you put them together." Urboro grinned. "And anything for family."

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 19

The newby fighters thankfully handled media horrendously, answering questions in choppy six or seven word responses. Sure, it limited the material and made the story vulnerable to the writers embellishing devices, but the speedy conclusion of the often clock-stopping, boring event was never one complained about amongst the journalistic world.

When I stepped outside in pursuit of the strangely near empty bar, I pulled the sleeves of my blazer off and draped it over my forearm, sliding my clutch between my bicep and ribcage. The crisp, white silk of the tank top swayed with the calm, cool breeze of the nighttime air, mixing with my nervously sweating skin, creating an array of chill bumps over my flesh. An exiting patron held the door open as I swept inside the dimly lit sports bar. There weren’t many tables, only 3 tv’s, and no blasting music. Hence the lack of customers, I’m sure. Colton was easy to spot, hunching at a high-top near the glass front of the building. He hadn’t ordered a drink yet, once again, trying desperately to execute that military like, gentlemanly manner his father Michael, had instilled in him, presumably. I dropped the weight of my tired body in the un-cushioned wooden seat, and huffed aloud in the relief. “That didn’t take too long,” he stated first.

“Those two were complete media virgins. They didn’t have much to say.” I confirmed as I massaged in the sanitizer I applied to my palms, and scanned over the sparse clients.  

“Want me to grab you a drink or somethin’? I didn’t know if you were still a martini girl, so I held off.” Had his accent become thicker with his hair?

“Actually, I’ll just take a seltzer. Lime on the side too, please.” Tia would probably be able to sniff out the scent of alcohol in my sweat like a hungry hound dog, and have my tail for drinking while training.

She had graciously granted me a pass on my birthday, so I didn’t see it wise to push my luck any further. Come to think of it though, when in the actual hell had I become the girl to drink seltzer water and lime?

My ex now turned waiter for the moment returned with a small square tumbler filled with fizzy, clear liquid, and a long neck in his other hand. His black shirt painted over the ripples of his back, the muscles there moved like thickened water down the spread of him. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he shops for himself. I can only imagine his decision-making unraveling something like, “yeah, black t-shirt. I can always use another black t-shirt.”

“Thank you,” I said between lengthy sips. “And thanks too for, um… the flowers. They were stunning. You really didn’t have to, but it was a sweet gesture, Colton.”

“So I did okay, huh? They’re your favorite?” He hoped with questioning eyes, taking a quick pull of his sweating beer.

“Yes, Colt. They’re my favorite. You did well. Extremely well.”

“I owe you another 50 dozen more, Liv….”

Here is comes. The conversation was about to take a dicey dive into the abyss.

“It’s not flowers I need, Colton. I think you know a million dollars’ worth of pretty bouquets won’t fix, this.” I drew an invisible line through the space from me, to him, “It’s not gonna fix us. Or, whatever us there was, I guess.”

He sat his half empty beverage on the scuffed table tap, and I noticed the glass chatter against the surface. He was shaking. This wasn’t the angry, poked bear shaking though. This was the abused, cowering, wounded bird shaking.

“Yeah, Liv. I get that, okay? I just didn’t know where to fuckin’ start, ya’ know? I didn’t wanna get too pushy..” he began, while drawing nervous figure-eights with his callused finger tips along the cracks in the table top.  “But, I gotta know. I ain’t tryna put you on the spot or nothin’, but is there any fixing it, babe? I have no right to asking you this shit, I realize that. But, just give me somethin’ here, Liv. Should I just write us off?”

The million dollar question. How was I supposed to give him the answer his desperate eyes so anxiously desired, when I didn’t have it myself? I loved Colton Ritter, no matter how blindly I wanted the fact to be untrue, there was no refuting it. But, I couldn’t shake the reluctancy I felt towards him either. That apprehensive, yet yearning brew filling up my gut. The next words I spoke to him would be the defining moment of what my future held, so I hesitated. Taking as long as I needed to sort through the perfect retort.

“You act like that’s such a simple question to answer, Colt. You have no idea what you did to me for Christ sakes,” my fist gently, but effectively smacked the table, clinking the glass beverages there. I refrained from chewing his hide in nagging anger, but I wasn’t about to hold back on what I truly needed to say. “I was a literal basket case. As damn foolish and weak as that may sound, it’s a fact. I missed work, I made myself sick from the unrelenting crying. Like, seriously, there was actual vomit, Colton. I wore your fuckin clothes around the apartment like a lost mutt!” I could see him tense entirely, almost wincing aloud in shame and heartache. And I half wondered if maybe he’d done some of his own shameful grieving during our time apart. “Every day for nearly a year felt like one big, constant punch to my gut, making it almost hard to even catch a decent breath. I’ve been better for a while now, but every single day, your stupid, smug face finds its way into my head….” I allowed myself a pause to try and extinguish the burning tears I knew were about to come loose, but there was no use. Once the first fell, I just opened the watery dam. “If I’m being honest, part of my really just hates you. A big chunk of me, as a matter of fact. But I know the love is still there, as much as the hate. Probably more,” snubbing through my tearful fit. “I don’t think I’m ready right this minute, Colton. For us, I mean. I think I might be at some point, but who’s to say… I can’t name the day and time. So, if that isn’t enough for you, and you feel like I’m a waste of your time, then yes, you should just move on.”  

Th brawniest, hard as stone man I’d ever known, raised a hand to wipe dry his weepy eyes. It wasn’t a hysterical, sobbing outburst, and an actual tear may not have fallen free, but they were there. The glazy sheen over his blue toned eyes tonight gave him away. He blew out the breath he’d apparently been holding in before his mustered the composure to speak back.

“I’m on your time, Livvy, alright? I’ll just stay outta your way, and if ya’ want me, you know I’m here. I fucked up. Royally, to say the least. There is so much I wanna say, and I hope you gimme the chance to piece it all together for you someday in the near future. I’m sorry seems to be the most important thing right now. And I’m gonna say it every day I have the chance. I’ll hang back as best I can, okay? And if someone else so happens to come along, for either of us, then I guess that’s that, huh?” He reached forth his hand to graze as gently as a summer breeze over my resting fingers, a current of G-force energy rattled through my every internal organ. I didn’t jerk away from his touch this time, instead allowing myself the loving awakening I had longed for the past days without him. He’d be the death of me, whether it be in happiness or misery, I wasn’t sure.

“I think that sounds like the best way to handle it, Ritter. I can work with that,” I sheepishly smiled, curling an auburn strand behind my ear. “Now, I better get home and get some sleep.” Picking my clutch up first, then swallowing the last mouthful of my drink, I stretched my petite legs searching for the ground below me. Before I could drop on my heels, he had swiftly came to my side, offering his hand out to steady my drop from the heighted stool. The man was so full of these sickeningly, syrupy sweet courtly gestures, and I might as well have been licking the plate.

“Let me walk you to the car this time. Please?” he almost begged holding my jacket open for me to slide my arms in.

“How about I walk you to your bike, and we’ll call it a night.” It wasn’t a question. I wanted to seem as independent as I could to him, while also establishing again that I’d be okay without him if things didn’t pan out with our relationship.

I went out on a wobbly whim and locked my arm through the empty crease in his elbow, while his hand was snuggled deep into his jean pockets, and out of a side eyed glance, and detected a half smile on his lips. “My bike is right here on the corner. Is you car close?”

“Close enough. Don’t you worry about me, kid,” I winked before breaking my clutch on his arm as we reached his black bike parked by a ticking meter.

“Hey listen, Liv. I’m thinking about sticking with Temple Fitness. Y’know like, staring up a membership to train there and stuff. But if you’re not good with it, then I’m out.” He remarked strapping his helmet around his bearded, calico chin.

“I think I can handle it, Colton. Just stay outta my way, big guy..” it was clear by the playfulness of my high pitched, girl giggly that I was testing the waters with some flirty banter. The saluted “yes, boss” he tossed back told me he was aware of my joking tone. When I took a couple slow paces in exit, bidding him a goodnight, he met my steps, and leaned in for a hopeful kiss to my pert cheek. \

“Not yet, Colt. Not yet, okay?” The dangerously close presence of his lips to me could’ve shot me a million feet in the air above us. But, I had to keep the line drawn, for now anyways. He wasn’t out to the woods yet.

When I gave him my back in search of my own car down the sidewalk, he yelled my name, muffled through the visor of his helmet.

“Hey 2-1!” I turned slightly, never ceasing my footsteps, careful not to lose my balance while walking backwards in my strappy shoes. “You look better than ever, babe. And I’ll happily take my punishment for sayin’ it.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, and I curled my lips up with brows raised in disbelief, yet satisfying pleasure, winking with no words, and went on my merry way. I heard his bike fire up with an almost lion like roar, and he sped off in the opposite direction. Revving his accelerator, no doubt in teenage like, hormonal ego.

 The next morning, all too bright, and much too early I entered the office hanging my sleepy head, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events the previous evening. Through groggy rasps, I served my morning hellos to passing co-workers, determined to reach the noiseless four walls of my office and downing the contents of my Styrofoam cup. If I timed it just right, I thought maybe I could even sneak a 30-minute powernap sometime around the 10 o’clock hour. When I crossed the concierge desk, Layla, the awkward, mousy receptionist waved a hand to halt me.

“This package came to you this morning, Ms. Elliott.” The box rectangular box, wrapped in wrinkled brown paper had apparently been delivered early morning to the office.

I thanked Layla the messenger, and stepped over the threshold of the empty elevator. The package was unmarked, only adding to the quizzical allure, but I held my eager hands from slashing through the wrapping until I got into my private office. I blindly flipped on the single light switch, my purse thudding onto the neatly organized desktop calendar. I ripped the first corner of the box opened before I was even sat into the swivel seat, when a small folded sheet of paper fell into the floor.

Livvy,

Thought you may need this. The other one seemed little ratty. I think I cut it just how you like them. There’s plenty more where this came from.

Love,

Colt

I dropped the lid of the package, peeling back a translucent layer of tissue paper to find a white, slightly dingy colored Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt. One I very much recognized as belonging to the gift giver himself. A weak smile had instantaneously crept across my face as I ran a thumb over the fading of the smooth polyester blend. I pondered, and settled on a decision in that second, that I was going to unapologetically relish the games he’d be willingly to play to win back my affection. I wasn’t wholeheartedly dreadful though, and I knew sending him thanks for the thoughtful efforts was the right thing to do, so I sent him a text to extend some reserved gratitude. Giving him the impression I was appreciative, but wasn’t eating out of his veiny hands just yet.

Tia was distant as of recent. Cold as a sparkling Pittsburgh frost before dawn. The conversation we had about my exchanges with Colt weren’t half as pleasant, and supportive as my phone call with Sara. Tia hated the man, not saying I blamed her. No matter what he said, or didn’t say, the gifts he gave, or the groveling that arose, she wasn’t forgetting the past. Colton Ritter was blacklisted indefinitely in her book. So much so, I even had to gulp down concerns that fizzled for my own friendship with her.

Climbing the steel steps of the cage with her was never too terribly intimidating before that night. I always knew no matter how repetitive she’d  be with her promising that she wouldn’t take it easy on me, I could always sense the restraint of her moves. Yet again, before that night… The trifling stomps of her bare feet across the mat would’ve signaled danger, if the haughty shove passed my shoulder hadn’t already. “Chew that rubber, Elliott,” she yelled unkindly, instructing me to hurry with my mouth piece so we could get the session underway.

She was bouncing upward, shoving her knees into her chest, stretching to shatter my thighs with one of her categorical back kicks. Willow was crouched in the floor beside the metal confines, arms crossed about her chest in curious observation, Tia’s harshness not unnoticed by her and the onlookers in the workout room. We danced the usual mirrored waltz across the octagon from each other, each waiting for someone to stretch forth searching for the first connecting jab. Before my mind had a single minute to strategize an assault, Tia lunged lowly to bearhug my legs right from beneath my own body, and my elbows nearly ricocheted off the canvas floor. The sweat of my attacker was already profusely flowing, more so from the rumbling anger, and probable resentment she was feeling for the likes of me. We wormed around on the patched ground, she grabbing a lock around my legs, me tugging on her extended forearm. Amongst our grunts, and gasps of pain, a very confused and scratchy voice sung out above all else.  

“The fuck? Liv?”

My eyes beckoned toward Colton’s wide stance next to Willow, but Tia didn’t let up. The more I fidgeted for release, the tighter she wound her meager form around me. When the match between us didn’t halt, I heard his intrusions slice the room again.

“LIV!” But this time, it wasn’t a questioning tone. He was demanding acknowledgment, and more importantly an explanation.

My “friendly” opponent loosened her vice, and I lunged a swift, fumbly kick to shake her off. If my face wasn’t already reddened from the efforts of the spar, it sure would’ve been painted with  a bright shade when I stood to see the concerned contortions of his always tempting mouth. With his hands raised in dumbfounding confusion awaiting his answer, I rushed towards the cage door to meet him in the corner he was heading to.

“THIS is what you’ve been doing here, Livvy? What the hell?” He was lazily scratching a hand through the brown of his beard.

“Not that it’s a single ounce of your business, Colt, but yes. Started a few months back, Tia suggested it.” My feet firm and solid under his disapproving stares.

“Oh, c’mon Liv. I don’t mean to sound like a bossy prick about it, ok? It’s your life, you can do what ya’ want with it. It just… I dunno.. scares me, I guess…” I turned to notice his restless hands, squirming in fists at his side, and his teeth visibly grinding behind closed chops. “I hate myself for hurting you. How did ya’ think I was gonna take to seeing someone smash a fist to those pretty cheeks, babe?”

My gloved fingers didn’t hesitate to seek out his own, stilling his concerns. I intertwined our digits, and I swear I felt the life creep back into me.  His eyes closed under feathery lashes, and there was no denying the husky exhalation that purred from him at our connecting flesh.

“I’m not some.. some weak kitten, Colt. I know you think I’m just a lowly damsel who needs a constant eye watching over her, but, that’s not the case.”

Although maybe very “me: Tarzan, you: Jane” to the outsiders perspective, Colton was very… well, male. He considered his place as my partner to be one of the valiant knight, shielding me from any oncoming harm. My humble opinion? It was all part of his blue collar, endearing charm. But, he’d have to reel it in on the aspect of my fight training.

“It’s not that I think ya’ need it 24-hour surveillance, kid. As a matter of fact, I think it’s just a shot to my ego that you don’t need it, ya’ know. I just wanna protect ya’, alright? Damn it, you’re always makin’ me… makin’ me talk so much, 2-1.” He enfolded my small hand tighter under his grip.

“I appreciate that. My very own lethal prrotector, huh?” I winked and wet my bottom lip catching his eye. “Ask Tia though, I hold my own with these gloves, big shot. Be careful, or you may have to find out first hand.”

Cool it, hormones. You might as well just jump his bones right here.

The flirtation went crawling like a cold shutter obviously over his roasting skin, and his eyes were swirling through shades of blue. “I would happily take that beating, sweetheart!”

Walk away. Now. Go liv, you’re drooling.

“I gotta get back to her though, or I’m gonna pay the price. See ya’ around?” I was securing the gloves assuredly, ready to bid riddance to him before his animal senses detected my feminine excitement, and he held me back.

“I’ll be around, yeah. Oh, hey girl! Nice shirt, by the way..” I went for a drink of my room temperature sports drink and nearly gagged on it. No way he couldn’t notice I was sporting the package he’d delivered a few short hours ago.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[doom-dreaming]

College AU - Margaritas, Mal, and Moze

@marigold-magpie HERE IT IS AND IT’S....it got away from me. and it’s more the girls making fun of Troy than anything else, honestly. also i’ve edited and edited this and i’m still not totally happy with it, but   w h a t e v e r

(Read it here on Ao3!)

“Ooh…margaritas!” Sasha practically pounced all the way from the door to the nearest blender.

“Courtesy of your selfless donations…” Tyreen tapped her knife against the edge of each as she listed them. “We got strawberry, lime, and…” She dipped her finger into the last one. “…peach! If you want some variety.”

“Straight tequila shots?”

Tyreen snatched the bottle away from Fiona’s wandering hand. “Nuh uh. We wanna have fun, not get shitfaced. Besides…” she tilted the bottle, frowning. “Miiiight not have enough for the rest of the mix—”

“What’s up, nerds?!”

“Funny, coming from you.” Tyreen raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up from the lime she was slicing.

Gaige huffed out a half-offended sound. “At least I’m not majoring in sociology, or whatever.” She dumped her backpack beside the couch. “What’re you gonna do with that, anyway?”

“Start a cult?”

“Yeah, good luck. I’ve seen your ECHOgram, you’ve only got, like, 500 followers.”

“Compared to your…what, fifty?” Tyreen leveled a smug grin at the redhead’s pout. “Nice try.” She licked the lime juice from her fingers and waved the knife at Moze, who was still standing semi-awkwardly near the door. “Just make yourself comfy, hon. Nothin’s off-limits. Except Troy’s room, but you don’t wanna go in there, anyway.”

“Uh…speaking of Troy…“ Sasha’s voice drifted over from the couch. "He’s got more followers than both of you.” She held up her phone. “743.”

Simultaneous cries of indignance flooded the small room.

“What the FUCK—”

“How in the hell—” Gaige beelined for the couch, her drink forgotten. Without hesitation, she vaulted over the back and landed next to Sasha. “I didn’t even know he had one! Lemme see. Oh, Ty, it’s you!”

Tyreen pinched the bridge of her nose. “Drunk karaoke? Yeah…” She moodily garnished her drink and joined the rest of them. “I just don’t get how he has more…” She mellowed into grumbling as she curled up on a chair in the corner of the room. “…fucker.”

Gaige snickered, popping back to her feet to retrieve her drink. “The fatal weakness in your perfect sibling relationship, huh?”

“I’m not that jealous, I just, y’know, spend hours doing tutorials and editing the videos and he records thirty seconds of me singing 'Hey, Mama’ after a dozen shots and…” She glowered at Sasha. “You and Fi would never—”

Fiona’s loud laughter cut her off. “Oh, I definitely would.”

Sasha agreed with a disappointed nod.

Tyreen sighed. “It’s petty and it shouldn’t bother me, but…”

“But that’s why we’re here,” Fiona reminded. “To drink and bitch!”

“To drink and bitch!” the rest of them echoed, raising their glasses.

“Or just drink,” Moze piped.

Fiona smirked. “I knew I liked you.”

“I mean, I just got here and so far? No complaints.”

Gaige plopped down beside her on the floor and patted her arm. “Valid.”

“Okay, then I’ll start.” Fiona took a long drink before setting the glass carefully onto the coffee table. “So...my ex—”

A collective groan rose from the group.

“—yeah, he swore up and down that he wouldn’t start shit with Rhys, but what does he do?” She didn’t let the question hang long. “Starts shit with Rhys!”

Sasha kicked her feet up. “Guy’s a fucking asshole. I don’t know what you ever saw in him, honestly.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us. Rhys is a dumbass, but at least he’s not a lying, cheating—”

The front door of the apartment opened just loudly enough to bring the conversation to a halt. Troy shuffled in with his bag hanging off of one arm and his jacket bundled in the other, oblivious to anyone else. He kicked the door shut, abandoned his bag next to the kitchen counter, and made it halfway across the apartment before Tyreen cleared her throat.

“…what’cha got there, bro?”

“Uh…”

“You look kinda...guilty.”

“No, I, um…” He tossed his hair. Readjusted his glasses. Heaved a defeated sigh. "...it's a cat.” Sure enough, the jacket mewled.

Instant mayhem.

“A cat?!”

“Don’t get it near me! I forgot to take my allergy meds!”

“I hope you don’t want to keep it—”

“Everybody shut the fuck up, you’re scaring him.” Troy elbowed his way past his sister, toward the coffee table. “I found him around the back of the building. We don’t have to keep him, I just figured I’d get him outta the cold." He set the jacket down, pulled back a few loosely-folded layers, and extracted a wiggling orange kitten. “Buuuut…I might’ve named him already…“

“Troy…”

He tucked the kitten to his chest, looking offended. "Just for tonight, Ty, I promise. In the morning I’ll take him to the shelter—don’t look at me like that.” He grabbed his jacket from the table and turned on his heel. “I’m gonna give him a bath.”

“Troy, you know campus policy—”

“Fuck campus policy! I’m not putting him back out!” The slam of the bathroom door sounded like an exclamation mark.

“Don’t get rabies!” Sasha called after him.

“Bold of you to assume he doesn’t already have it…” Tyreen dropped her head into her hands. “Fuckin’ idiot.”

Gaige’s grin was too wide to be innocent. “Hey, Troy! What’s his name!?”

“Mal!” came the muffled reply, followed by a sharp, “Oh, shit—ow!”

“Cute!”

“Stop encouraging him,” Tyreen groaned. “I’m at least ninety percent of his impulse control and I don’t need you making things worse.” She paused, then let her head fall back with a weary sigh. “But I guess as far as breakup behavior goes, rescuing a cat is better than rebounding…”

“How bad was that breakup, anyway?”

“Lethal, based on how he’s acting.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I…shouldn’t be mean. Troy gets invested. I think he was waaaay more into it than August was—”

Sasha nearly choked on her drink.

“You good?”

She brushed off Fiona’s back-patting. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. Just—” cough “—went the wrong way. All good.”

“You should let him have a couple drinks with us,” Moze suggested. “Maybe—”

Four voices shouted, “No!” in unison.

“Or…not?”

Tyreen huffed. “You know how most people have an alcohol tolerance? Troy has an alcohol intolerance. That first day you met us? Yeah, he was fucking trashed ‘cause he spent the whole night trying to drown his broken heart.”

Troy’s voice drifted out from behind the bathroom door. “…I heard that!”

“It’s not a secret!” Tyreen yelled back.

Troy grumbled something inaudible, then emerged. Shirtless. The kitten squirmed inside a towel. “Little dude scratches like a motherfucker… Someone wanna hold him while I…?” He motioned to the red slices across his chest with his free hand.

Tyreen glanced around the group. Fiona was still holding her hand over her nose and mouth, shaking her head. Moze was…definitely focused on Troy’s abs. “Anyone?” Gaige and Sasha just shrugged. She narrowed her eyes. “If you’re trying to trick me into keeping this cat, I swear to God… Fine. Hand him over.”

“You don't have to make such a huge fucking deal out of it,” Troy complained.

Tyreen's glare was downright scathing. “Then apparently you don't remember the baby bird. Or the snake. Or the—”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Just take the cat.” He pushed the towel into her hands. “I swear it's only for tonight.”

“I don't believe you…!” she sang at his retreating back. He flipped her off before shutting the bathroom door again. She rolled her eyes.

Moze's voice was the first to break the silence. “So, uh...didn't know Troy wears glasses.”

“He doesn't, usually. But—oh no, no way—” Tyreen intercepted the kitten as it made an attempt to escape. “—he's blind as shit—”

“Heard that too!”

“—and wears contacts most the time.” She cocked an eyebrow at Moze. “But be honest, that's not what you were lookin’ at.”

The younger girl's face flushed a shade darker. She stirred at her drink, mumbling, “Just didn't expect he'd be…”

“Like that?” Gaige filled in. “Yeah, I didn't expect it either the first time—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Uh.”

“The first time what...?” Sasha asked cautiously.

Tyreen rolled her eyes, aware that she was the only one not acting like Gaige had just confessed to murder. “They hooked up. It was, like, a year ago.”

“WHAT?!”

“It was at an engineering thing! We were both drunk!” Gaige shrieked in an attempt to defend herself. “Neither of us remember anything about it! It just sorta..." She gestured helplessly. "We woke up with, like, half our clothes on the floor and honestly I wouldn't have believed anything happened except I had dried c—”

“OH MY GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Troy yelled. “Literally no one needs to know the details!”

“Yeah, I'm with him on that,” Sasha admitted, her expression sour.

Tyreen attempted to hide a snicker behind her hand. Her unoccupied hand. The hand that wasn't scratching the kitten behind the ears. “The only reason I found out was ‘cause as soon as he got back and had his head in the toilet, he started cryin’ about it—”

Troy stalked out of the bathroom, scowling. “I was not crying—”

“You were crying and puking and—”

“And now I'm leaving. Gimme the cat—wait, are you petting—?”

“Shut up. Take him.” The kitten, lulled by Tyreen's attention, gave a confused ‘mrrrp?’ as he was roused by yet another handoff. “Go...listen to some music or something.”

“So you can tell more lies about me? I see how it is.”

“Oh my God, would you just take your emotional support animal and go, already? Please?”

“C'mon, Mal,” Troy sniffed. “We don't need them anyway.”

Tyreen gulped down the rest of her drink as he disappeared into his room, half in an attempt to not snark back at him and half in an attempt to get buzzed. “Anyone want refills?” she sighed once he closed the door.

Fiona silently raised her empty glass.

“You know, you're the only one here with a brother,” Gaige mused.

“And ain't I lucky,” Tyreen drawled, taking Fiona's glass and slouching back into the kitchen. “I mean...I love him, obviously. But he's a pain in the ass.” She paused, cocking her head toward his bedroom door. “Okay, I think we're good. He can't hear us. What'd you have, Fi? Lime?”

“Yep.”

“So...should I or should I not try to...y'know.” Moze clicked her tongue and nodded in the direction of Troy's room.

“If you wanna go out with my brother, you have my blessing. Or...whatever. But...maybe don't go for the kill immediately? Give him some time. Get to know him first.”

“More like know what you're getting into,” Gaige joked.

“I...think I've got a pretty good idea.”

Tyreen tuned them out and took another long drink of her margarita. Troy's follower count was starting to make sense.

****** @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @ayilachan @zipp0flare @luxury-of-insanity @vanillabuttercreamm @anni000001 @imchaoticnerd @pepper-demon