#honestly if anyone wanted i could totally probably whip up some one shots

[fourteentrout]

my crack ship is beron x helion first helion fucked his wife then he fucked him

the crack ship revolution is here, I'm declaring it now. This is exactly the type of fun, out of left field stuff I was hoping for. Helion collecting Vanserras like pokemon cards. The possibilities are endless

[tossawary]

Because my brain does NOT stop even when I’m grounded, today my brain told me, “Hey, I figured out how to make a Hobbit Fusion AU work.” And I was like, “Great! We’re working, though.” And my brain was like, “I’ve figured out how to make it a Pre-Canon Canon Divergence AU for Moshang.”

And I was like, “...I’m listening.”

The Hobbit is another one of my Comfort Media and it got brought up when I was asking about that, but I was feeling kind of “eh” about mixing Tolkien mythology with SVSSS. I mean, the mental picture of Dwarf Mobei-Jun is extremely funny and Shang Qinghua would make a great hobbit! But that interpretation felt a little too direct for my AU tastes.

So, hm, now I have another potential Big Bang contender. My love for The Hobbit is very, VERY strong and looking at my current outline, I have to be like, “Yeah, this could be 50,000 words, no problem.”

It’s a very good outline!

-

After saving Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua bailed A.S.A.P. because he honestly thought Mobei-Jun was going to kill him. He psyched himself out of sticking around before Mobei-Jun woke up. Mobei-Jun didn’t get enough information to track Shang Qinghua down.

Shang Qinghua (who isn’t SQH because he isn’t the Peak Lord) decides that he can’t fucking take it anymore and bails from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect too. The System objects, but also falls into line when Airplane shrieks at it. Airplane is going to go become a humble merchant and inventor and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop him!

It turns out that Shang Qinghua’s presence or help was actually crucial to stop some Emperor of the Abyss from taking over the Ice Palace and the Northern Desert. Airplane is like, “Oh, yeah, I remember… offhandedly writing something about that happening in the past off-screen?” It was one of those things that he just threw in there because it sounded really cool, and it gave Mobei-Jun another reason to “owe” Shang Qinghua and not kill him immediately, but he never got to elaborate on it because he was too busy writing stallion novel bullshit.

So, borrowing the lore from my “Horns” one-shot, an extremely powerful Emperor of the Abyss escaped the Eternal Abyss. This is some devouring horror being from the depths of the abyss, which ate everything in its vicinity in the abyss itself and crawled into the Demon Realm to eat more things. The Emperor of the Abyss was attracted to Mobei-Jun’s father. They fought. Mobei-Jun’s father should have won, but didn’t, because he was too fucked up (thanks to his own hedonism or something) to fight properly. What an asshole.

Mobei-Jun’s father was killed and devoured by the Emperor of the Abyss, which has made it… exponentially powerful. It’s now… basically a calamity. The desolation that it leaves in its wake across the Northern Desert is unspeakable. Mobei-Jun and his family, their allied clans, and pretty much all demons in the Northern Desert have had to flee.

Mobei-Jun is currently essentially a “guest” of the Sha Clan. He’s homeless. He’s lost the power of his ancestors. He’s a “king” without a kingdom. It’s humiliating. He needs to kill the abyssal creature to retrieve: his title, his ancestors’ power, and his kingdom.

While working for other demon clans to support his family and people, Mobei-Jun crosses paths with Airplane. Airplane has become a relatively successful merchant and inventor, and he calls himself Shang Houhua. He lives a very comfortable life and does his best to ignore anything resembling the plot. He’s pretty successful at ignoring the plot.

Mobei-Jun is never in a good mood these days, but he’s especially pissed off to see that human who abandoned him all those years ago. Airplane tries to argue that Mobei-Jun told him to fuck off, but Mobei-Jun is too angry. Airplane makes lots of offers in an effort to get Mobei-Jun to spare his life, one of which ends up being a claim that he can help Mobei-Jun kill the Emperor of the Abyss and make him a king again. Mobei-Jun pauses, now even more pissed off than before, and Airplane just starts babbling desperately to save his own skin.

Mobei-Jun was already forming a company to take on a Quest for the Northern Desert - in the hopes of slaying the Emperor of the Abyss and retaking his homeland. Part of the issue has been that forming the company is difficult. Mobei-Jun wants people who are loyal to HIM and ONLY to him. He won’t owe anyone else anything or promise them pieces of his homeland.

(Airplane is like, “Bro, I don’t know if you can afford to be so picky, but okay.”)

So Mobei-Jun is like… “I still want to kill you, but fine, you can come on our quest and help us.”

So Airplane ends up on the Quest for the Northern Desert, led by his very angry future murderer the “king without a kingdom” Mobei-Jun, to fight the calamitous Emperor of the Abyss who killed Mobei-Jun’s father. Fuck.

Some details beyond this opening premise:

Airplane and Mobei-Jun fall in love over the course of the quest, obviously. They have their own hijinks like each chapter of The Hobbit (equivalents to the trolls, to Rivendell, to Goblintown, to Beorn, to Mirkwood, and to Laketown, etc.). 

Oh, damn, I just realized that making a pre-fall Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang the Beorn equivalents would be so fucking funny.

The Emperor of the Abyss is a horrifying Smaug equivalent. It can totally talk because Airplane having a conversation with a draconian horror sounds incredible. I would love to have Airplane outwit the Emperor of the Abyss in some fashion.

Mobei-Jun and Airplane somehow manage to successfully kill the Emperor of the Abyss together. Like, together. Probably using some plot device whipped up or some clever plan devised by Airplane on his feet. Mobei-Jun trusts Airplane at a crucial moment and it all works out. Airplane actually gets Mobei-Jun his kingdom back.

I’m tempted to just skip over the Ring and not having a Ring equivalent. BUT if I made this into a longfic instead of a one-shot, I would have a Ring equivalent (if it was a one-shot, I would ditch the Ring equivalent). I think I would make Xin Mo the One Ring equivalent. During the Goblintown equivalent event, Airplane falls either into the Eternal Abyss or into Bing-Ge’s dimension, where he proceeds to successfully take up Xin Mo because he knows the trick and portal himself out of the Eternal Abyss, or he proceeds to outwit Bing-Ge in some fashion and uses the Xin Mo sword to portal himself back to the right dimension.

So then Airplane is stuck with this super powerful sword that he doesn’t want to use again because he KNOWS that it will fuck him up. He KNOWS that it will FUCK HIM UP. So Airplane has to go through the rest of the quest ignoring the temptation of the Xin Mo sword that he is absolutely not supposed to have and can’t possibly let anyone else have.

(Oh, man, imagining the influence of Xin Mo giving Airplane extra horny thoughts about Mobei-Jun on the rest of the quest is very funny. Like, Airplane was already hot for Mobei-Jun, but now it’s worse and he might never have a normal thought ever again.)

Bagginshield Movie Hug when Airplane turns up again, for sure. Mobei-Jun thought he was dead. Mobei-Jun smiles and everything, until he remembers to frown again.

I’m feeling like I don’t want Airplane to use Xin Mo to help defeat the Emperor of the Abyss, but it makes sense if he does. Him not using it doesn’t make much sense. I do like the idea of Airplane dealing the killing blow and Mobei-Jun’s pride being hurt by Airplane being the one to kill it. I also like the idea of Mobei-Jun being a little smitten by Airplane just… loyally handing him his kingdom and restoring the power of his ancestors. I also really like the idea of Airplane just… not having some super powerful plot device up his sleeve on the quest.

Like, instead of Airplane’s Author God knowledge totally setting him up to deal with this thing no problem, Airplane had NO FUCKING PLAN when he set out with Mobei-Jun. He was talking completely out of his ass when he said he knew how to help Mobei-Jun. That this all worked out at all is almost completely due to luck and improvisation.

That feels MUCH more true to both Shang Qinghua and to Bilbo Baggins. Lucky lads of fast-talking, complaining, lying, not knowing what the fuck is really going on, thirsting after kings with tragic backstories, and somehow not dying despite winging it all the time.

Instead of goldsickness, Mobei-Jun is forced to deal with some side-effects of consuming the Emperor of the Abyss to regain the power of his ancestors. (Demon cannibalism rituals. Yeah.) He starts acting really scary and out-of-character and forceful, until Airplane loses his nerve and runs away. Maybe under the influence of the late Emperor of the Abyss, Mobei-Jun actually tries to kill him? I could see Mobei-Jun trying to kill Airplane for the Xin Mo sword which dealt the finishing blow on the Emperor of the Abyss.

(I need a better name for this thing. If I can’t come up with something that actually sounds good, I might just call it “The Calamity”, but that’s giving me BOTW vibes so I don’t like it. Maybe I’d call it “The Desolation” or something? Ehhhh, I don’t really like that either.)

I want to have a Battle of the Five Armies equivalent, if only so Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang can swoop in as benevolent helpers as the Beorn equivalents. Currently, I’m seeing three options. 1) The orc army equivalent are neighboring demon lords who want to strike while the new Mobei-Jun is getting established. 2) The orc army equivalent is Linguang-Jun trying to kill his nephew and take power at the last minute. 3) The orc army equivalent is Bing-Ge here with an army and he’s pissed off and wants his sword back.

On one hand, 1 and 2 would be SO MUCH EASIER to pull off. I could be really lazy about the whole thing. On the other hand, 3 would be much fresher (more surprising and links back to the Xin Mo element), more challenging and the idea of pre-fall Tianlang-Jun facing off with Bing-Ge delights me. Kick his ass, Tianlang-Jun!

(Su Xiyan gets involved? My brain says YES. Kick his ass, Su Xiyan!)

Also, I was sad about there being no Fili and Kili equivalents, because Mobei-Jun has no friends, and I’ll have to make up a company pretty much from scratch. (Sha Hualing is too young and Luo Binghe hasn’t been born yet.) BUT then I was like, “Where’s Linguang-Jun in all this?” And I would absolutely have Linguang-Jun be a part of Mobei-Jun’s Company. Instead of nephews, Mobei-Jun has a sketchy uncle who might be trying to kill him. Keeping Linguang-Jun out of it might be easier, but actually doing some character-building with him sounds fun and challenging, and I’d rather limit the number of OCs if possible.

Mobei-Jun manages to shake off the goldsickness equivalent somehow, probably through “the power of love” (and/or straight-up “dual cultivation” with Airplane?). Moshang makes up while Mobei-Jun is apparently mortally wounded from fighting Bing-Ge and Airplane thinks this is all his fault. But Mobei-Jun doesn’t die! It’s all good!  

It’d be pretty funny if there was a “Returning to the Shire” equivalent where Airplane leaves because he thinks Mobei-Jun hates him now and never wants to see him again. So then Mobei-Jun has to track his man down like, “Get back here and marry me. (Also I am so sorry for trying to kill you. Please forgive me. I hate myself so much for that.)”

And they all live happily ever after!

Holy shit, this wasn’t in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Files

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers  @serenityhayato​ ( WRITTEN FOR @negans-lucille-tblr​‘s SPN FIC EXCHANGE )

Warnings: Death of a friend, Canonical Gore (werewolf attack), Cursing, Smut (rough Sam, light choking, hand job, oral if you squint- male receiving, unprotected sex), Probably sex at inappropriate times if I’m being honest

Word Count: 7500 (I am so sorry I didn’t realize until I went to post this that it had a 3k word limit… this was definitely my bad but I’ve spent a week writing this and really didn’t want to scrap the whole thing to fit the word limit. I didn’t realize how carried away I got in the set up)

A/N: I have never written anything for Sam before, much less smut, but I wanted to give it a shot. I’m sorry if it’s totally OOC. I was trying to go off the knowledge that he’s canonically pretty rough in bed. I also couldn’t imagine him being super talkative and vocal. I don’t know, I’m just kinda stressed about this one. Also, this was probably definitely an inappropriate time for them to get down and dirty but my brain was glitching on any other idea so I hope you don’t hate it! Happy holidays!

________________

Sam Winchester.

The name alone made your blood boil.

You’d met the man for the first time, just before your hunting career began and quite frankly, you weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what he’d done.

–

It was the first semester of your senior year of college, a proud graduate-to-be of your dream university. Life had been great since you got to college. Old toxic relationships with people back home had practically disappeared, you’d formed a group of the best people you’d ever met, and your academics had been going strong.

Life was going great until people started disappearing only to turn up days later, slaughtered and nearly drained of blood. Anxiety was running high all across the board. The university even turned all night classes to online courses to prevent the likelihood of someone being abducted at night. Your best friend had started acting weird. She constantly shook as if she’d drank a pot of coffee for breakfast and was always looking over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Beth,” You tried to reassure her, “I know everyone is on edge but we’re doing everything we can to stay safe. Just make sure to bring your wooden stake in case the vampire attacks.” You chuckled weakly, knowing your nerve-fueled joke was definitely inappropriate considering that four people had actually died from whoever was out there but humor was a good coping mechanism.

Beth didn’t appreciate the joke at all and had run out of your apartment, disappearing. When she hadn’t returned by seven that night, you got worried enough to go look for her. Grabbing every self defense weapon you had, which was pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a key chain that looked cute but was actually a form of brass knuckles with sharp extrusions on it, you left your apartment to look for Beth, surprisingly well strapped.  

You started with her favorite spots: a hipster coffee shop on Main Street, Taco Bell, that one bench in the botanical gardens that overlooked the pond, and the fourth floor of the library. She was nowhere to be seen. You were on the verge of calling the police or those FBI agents that had been questioning people on campus, asking some weird questions from what people had told you. You’d never spoken with them but they did say to come to them with information if anyone had any. You didn’t but they’d be a good start to finding Beth. Where to find them though? Figuring it would be best to just start with campus police, you walked across campus, looking over your shoulder every few seconds. The hair on your neck stood on end and it was impossible to feel safe. Campus police was located on the opposite end of campus and the busses stopped running early on weekdays so walking was your only choice.

“No, please!” You heard a man whimper from somewhere in the trees to your side. You stopped in your tracks and your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you help? Should you run? Should you stay here and call 911?

But then you heard Beth’s voice, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t control it anymore!” And then screams. There were deafening screams of pain and you decided to say screw it. You ran down to try and protect your friend, even though you knew it was probably the last thing you’d ever do. This was stupid. What could you even do? Who knew what was down there attacking them?

When you saw them though, you stopped, skidding to a halt on the leaf covered hill. Beth was knelt over a man’s body, his backpack thrown to the side and ripped open. Though you were quiet, she must have heard you because her attention was whipped to you in an instant. Her face and shirt were covered in blood. It was obvious she’d been eating him or something along those lines.

You felt like a deer in headlights, utterly frozen in terror, denial, and confusion. “I can’t control myself anymore…” she admitted, a regretful sob hiccuping from her lips.

“Why?” You breathed out the question, silent tears falling. Whether they were for fear for your life or just the knowledge that someone you cared about could do something so horrible, you didn’t know.

Before she could answer, there was a loud bang and she fell dead. You flinched and covered your head, crouching instinctively from the gunshot. Your best friend slumped over dead and, despite the fact that you’d just watched her brutally murder some poor stranger, you couldn’t help but call out in shock and horror, “Beth!"

Two men came running down the hill, one of them to Beth’s body and the other to you. "She’s dead. Werewolf, just like we thought.” The man with short hair announced in a deep gruff voice.

“Are you alright?” The one who had come up to asked. He looked a little younger than the other, with longer hair too.

You were shaking, “What the hell just happened?"

"I know this is hard to understand but your friend over there… wasn’t human.” When he said it, you almost scoffed. Of course she was human. What the hell else would she be? Monsters weren’t real.

“You’re kidding me…” You said almost angrily. Then something hit you, “Wait, you’re those FBI detectives.”

The one with short hair walked up to you and the man talking to you. The taller one spoke again, “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We aren’t really FBI. We hunt monsters. Monsters like your friend over there."

"She wasn’t a monster.” You said, a single tear finally falling down your cheek. Glancing over, you saw her lying dead on the ground, “Not the Beth I knew."

"Well then you didn’t know the real Beth because one look at that thing will tell you she ain’t human.” Dean told you bluntly.

Sam noticed the confusion, fear, and anger in your eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this. It was never easy to tell people they were close to the truth and he preferred to just stay out of it completely but that wasn’t an option this time. “Look, I know this is difficult to understand. But Beth was a werewolf. And yes, they are real. Most monsters are. We’ve been tracking her for weeks."

"W-was she always like this?” Your mind whirled as you struggled to comprehend, truly comprehend, what was happening.

Sam shook his head, “She was turned by a werewolf back in her hometown a few weeks ago. We tracked her from a pack we hunted down over there.” You remembered when she came back, she had a big bandage on her arm. When you asked about it, she brushed it off, saying she ate it racing her brother on longboards. It was probably the bite.

“The fact that she made it as long as she did without killing is honestly impressive. I’ve seen some turn and right away they’re slaughtering people.” Dean chimed in. You hoped their words would console you but they only served to make you angrier.

“So you’re telling me that she was attacked by a werewolf and then turned into one? She was probably terrified! She kept saying how sorry she was! You could have helped her! But you just killed her!” You screamed at them angrily.

“Your friend murdered a bunch of people. Once they turn, there’s no saving them. They’re killers.” Dean said with such conviction that it almost scared you.

Sam put a hand out to Dean, signaling for him to shut up, “There’s only one known way to stop the transformation but it has a really low success rate, is extremely painful, and needs to be administered almost right after the bite. I’m sorry.” He reached a hand out to comfort you but you dodged it, shrugging off his gesture and beginning to walk away.

“I need to go."

"Wait!” Sam called out behind you and you stopped.

“What?!” You snapped, spinning around to stare at him. It was rare that anyone dwarfed Sam Winchester but since you’d been walking up the small hill, you towered over him. The way you glared down at him made him jump.

His words faltered before he finally spoke, “You can’t tell anyone about this. If people knew monsters existed-"

"I’ll decide how I deal with the fact that my apparently werewolf best friend was just murdered by some dudes who think they’re Ghostbusters."

—

Sam saddled up to the bar next to you and promptly ordered two beers. You kept your eyes straight ahead, not sure of what you’d say to him if you made eye contact. You could feel him side eyeing you curiously. Finally, he looked over, "I’m sorry if this is strange but you look so familiar. Have we met?"

You swiveled in the chair to face him, "It’s been a while but yeah. We’ve met. Remember that werewolf at (your college)  about a year ago."

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… I knew you looked familiar.” He didn’t sound excited like people usually did when they saw old friends because he knew you weren’t old friends. In fact, he assumed you felt quite the opposite and he understood why. “I never did catch your name."

"Y/N.” You informed shortly, taking a sip of your preferred poison.

Sam rocked back on his heels, “Well, uh, what are you doing out here?” It was Middletown, Arkansas, not exactly a happening place, so seeing you of all people here seemed almost too good to be a coincidence.

“I get the feeling the same reason you are.” You answered, eyebrows rising to infer a hunt.

It didn’t take long for Sam to figure what you meant, “Wait, you’re hunting now? Why?"

"After you guys left, I was devastated. You’d murdered my best friend,” you watched him sink into himself a little when you said that but continued seamlessly, “I was left alone with the sudden knowledge that monsters existed. I decided one day that I wanted to protect people like Beth. You know, the ones that innocently stumble into dangerous situations and have their lives ruined by a bite or scratch."

The tall Winchester brother was about to say something but Dean called from a few tables over, "Sammy!” He called out, pointing to a booth on the side wall. The bar was fairly busy for it being such a small town, with people playing pool or eating fries with their gin and tonics. Music played in the background and, though it wasn’t a song you knew off the top of your head, it sounded like every other dive bar in towns like this.

Sam held up a finger to his brother, begging pardon for just a second, before looking back over to you, “Look, I’m really sorry about everything. I really am. I know it doesn’t help but I’ve lost friends who were turned as well so I know how you feel.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens, right?” Your voice sounded anything but forgiving but it also wasn’t hostile either. It was more matter-of-fact. As much as you had hated Sam Winchester for what he had taken from you, if there was one thing you had learned over these last few months it was that shit really does happen. As hard as you tried, you really couldn’t save them all.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see Dean wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at him, clearly thinking you were someone Sam was trying to pick up for the night. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to you, “If we’re both here for the vamp nest, then do you maybe want to come work with us?"

You thought for a moment. In all honesty, you had been under the impression that it was just one vampire wreaking havoc on the small town. Call it a novice mistake, because in all actuality, you really were still a relatively new hunter. One vampire you could take, a whole nest would be trickier. "Fine. But just so we don’t die."

You hopped off the barstool, glass of liquid fire in your hand, as you followed Sam back to the booth Dean was sitting at. At first, the older brother looked confused as to why his brother would bring his company for the night to meet him but didn’t say anything about it when you sat down beside Sam across the table from Dean.

"This is Y/N. She’s gonna help us work the case.” Sam announced, not leaving much room for objection.

Dean’s eyes studied you, “You look familiar. You’re a hunter?” He asked, trying to piece together why he recognized you.

You shrugged, “Am now but you know me from ‘bout a year ago when you guys killed my best friend. She was bit by a werewolf. Remember, that college girl?"

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… yeah. Sorry about that but she was, y'know, a werewolf. So-” he shrugged insensitively, earning him a hard kick in the shin from Sam under the table. Dean looked back with that expression of 'what?’ That little kids had when they got in trouble.

“Well, anyways, she’s hunting now and is in town for the nest. I figured working together would be our best option.” Sam tried to be a peaceful moderator but it was hard when he knew how much you loathed him. It was frustrating, really, that you wouldn’t just see that Beth had become a monster. He understood that losing friends was hard but she had been killing innocent people.

“What’s the plan, then? We want to pick them off one by one so there’s less to fight at once or-” you began before Dean interrupted.

He shook his head, chewing some fries he’d shoved in his mouth while he spoke, “Nuh-uh. Gank the whole nest at once. Get 'em all in one place and torch it."

"Okay, well where’s the nest then?” You questioned.

Sam shrugged, “We don’t know yet. That’s what we gotta figure out."

"I have a file of police reports and eye witnesses on my laptop back at my hotel. I was just gonna grab a map of the town while I was out tonight to try and see if I could draw a location from the attacks.” You hadn’t planned on actually bringing work to do at the bar. You’d mostly come to see if you could overhear any drunken tales of vampires around town but it had been pretty dead as far as crazy stories so far.

Something behind you caught Dean’s attention and he leaned in close to you and Sam, “Hey, I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.” He said with a smirk and a wink.

As his brother stood, Sam threw his hand up in exasperation, “Where are you going?"

"Hopefully for a homerun.” Dean winked with a cocky smirk before walking away. You turned around to follow Dean with your gaze and immediately saw his target sitting at the bar, a beautiful African American woman with bouncing curls and a sultry smile on her berry stained lips. Honestly, you couldn’t’ say you blamed the older Winchester one bit.

Sam let out a huff of disappointment and rolled his eyes at his brother’s priorities. “Guess it’s just you and me then…” He groaned, not at the prospect of having to spend time with you but just at his brother’s laziness. Dean always managed to find an excuse out of the research part.

“Great.” You responded, unamused. Of the two brothers, Sam was the one you had an issue with- the trigger man on the night that changed your life. “Well, we should get a start on all this so we can get out of here sooner. If you didn’t get any food, you wanna head back to my room?”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded and you became a bumbling mess, “Wait- I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant-”

Sam bit back a chuckle and raised his hand up off the table, motioning for you to stop, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He laughed, long hair shining in the dim light as he moved to turn away from you with closed eyes while he chuckled. It really was a shame that he had done what he’d done to you. An opportunity with such a handsome man just had to be killed by his lack of compassion all those months ago.

You slid out of the booth, “Alright, well, I guess I’ll drive. Looks like Dean will be needing your car.” You smirked knowingly as you glanced over at Dean who had the woman he’d had eyes on in stitches over something he’d said.

Sam followed your lead, “Sounds good. I don’t think I want to be in the car after whatever they do anyways.”

Your black 2007 Honda Pilot was clean enough to not be totally embarrassed about but then you saw Sam’s little snort, “A Honda Pilot?”

“We can’t all have cool muscle cars or old trucks, jackass. I can go all terrain with decent gas mileage. Besides, I’d rather sleep in the back of this than your gas guzzler. She’s surprisingly spacious.” You defended your vehicle rather seriously, running your hand across the dash soothingly. The funny thing was that you’d really never been all too attached to the car until Sam insinuated insulting remarks about it.

“She?” He quipped with a raised brow, climbing into the passenger seat.

You slammed the door shut and started the engine, “Yes, she. Dahlia.”

Sam put his hands up, resigning his teasing assault on your car. The drive to the motel was short. You never really liked travelling too far from where you were staying when you didn’t have to. Hunting on your own, especially as a newbie, made you anxious. When you pulled into the parking lot, Sam looked out the window, “You’re staying here too?”

You looked over at him, “You guys are staying here?”

He nodded and patted his pockets, looking for the room key but quickly finding the gesture useless, “Room 24. You?”

“34. You must be right under me.” You said, again visibly cringing at your poor word choice, “You know what I mean.”

Sam tried his hardest not to smile, “Wasn’t gonna say anything.” He assured. You pulled into a space right in front of room 24 and parked. Sam followed you up to your room, which was relatively untouched still. You’d only arrived that morning so, aside from your bag of belongings that was thrown onto the single queen bed, the motel room was still as you had found it.

Sam closed the door behind the two of you and you grabbed your laptop from the bag. So many rooms you’d stayed in had little tables or desks but you quickly noticed that this one was lacking. As Sam awkwardly shuffled up to the bed where you sat casually, you noticed that there wasn’t really enough room for the two of you to work on the ground either.

With a huff, you scooted over, “You can sit on the bed. Just no shoes on the covers.” You had toed your own shoes off on the floor before tucking your legs underneath you. Sam sat beside you, careful to keep a respectful distance between your bodies, while you opened the lid of your laptop and began typing away.

“Alright, this is what I have so far.” You began.

Time became lost on you and Sam as midnight rolled around and you were still discussing the facts of the case. “I’m still confused as to why the hell you think Lenora’s body turning up on Seventh St and Jason’s body turning up on Hargrove Ave means the nest is on Willow Dr.” You were getting annoyed at Sam. In all honesty, you were annoyed at yourself for not seeing what he saw because as much as you hated to admit it, he was probably right. He and his brother hadn’t earned their reputations for being wrong. But, geez, why did it have to be Sam Winchester?

“Because it’s not so much Jason’s body. The old lady, Meredith, made a phone call to her nephew, saying she was at Willow Dr, just before she attacked.” Sam pointed at the map of the town with one finger while leaning his weight back on the bed. His other hand reached back to prop himself up but you quickly flinched away when you felt his rough fingers blindly land on your own.

Sam’s eyes shot wide when you felt your sudden movement, “‘M sorry.” He said, moving his hand closer to his body.

The contact made your heart race in a way that made you simultaneously crave his touch again and be angry at yourself for feeling that way.  You cursed yourself, scooting an inch or so away from Sam’s body. Clearly, your body was just blindly reacting after being touch starved for so long. You hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since before you became a hunter. It had to just be a primal reaction, nothing more.

“I’ll just take your word for it.” You grumbled, returning to the original matter at hand. You hated feeling like you were just letting him think he was right about everything but you were getting tired. “So what’s the plan? Gank ‘em all tomorrow night?”

Sam shrugged, “We’d have to talk to Dean. Most of them will probably be hiding in the nest in the morning to avoid the sun so at least they’d be in one place. But night gives us more time to plan. Who knows when he’ll be back.”

“Why don’t we just lure them all out into the sun and watch them burn?” You suggested, thinking it was a brilliant idea. You actually had yet to deal with vamps. This would be your first case hunting them and you were actually a little excited to learn something new.

The Winchester shook his head, “The sun doesn’t kill them. Think less Interview With a Vampire and more… bad sunburn.” He explained, “Have you never hunted one before?”

Again, you got defensive, “I’m still new at this. I mostly stick to werewolves and ghosts.” Admitting to yourself you needed to learn more was one thing. Admitting it to Sam was another.

He looked over at the gun on your nightstand, “Is that what you were gonna use?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m not dumb. I have some wooden stakes in the car.”

It took everything in Sam’s power to not laugh at you. At you felt like the wrong way to put it. He wasn’t laughing at you. He just found your determination to be a good hunter cute in an endearing way, even if you got your information from cheesy TV shows.

“What?” You asked, almost angrily, seeing the look of amusement on his face.

Sam shook his head, “Decapitation is the main way to kill vampires. Unless you have special bullets or weapons, cutting off the heads is the easiest way to go.”

Your jaw clenched and you turned away from him, upset that he of all people had to explain something that was apparently Hunter 101. You didn’t mind learning. Not knowing things typically was just an opportunity to pick something new up but this incident just felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“You know what? It looks like you and Dean have things handled here. I’m gonna go. Divide and conquer. I’ll just go find somewhere with monsters that I know about so you don’t have to babysit me.” You stood up aggressively, voice surprisingly calm and just almost convincing enough to make him think you weren’t being petty, which of course you were. You didn’t mean to be acting childish. It was just that running into Sam and Dean had been enough to handle. Having what was still left for you to learn shoved in your face was just the cherry on top.

Sam stood up after you, exasperated, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re still new to this and everyone has to start somewhere. Hell, Dean and I are still learning new stuff all the time.”

“It’s not that. This was just a bad idea. I thought I could handle working with you but I can’t.” You shook your head, turning around just to reach around Sam’s body and grab the jacket that you’d discarded before shrugging it back over your shoulders. You started shoving the few things you’d unpacked- a gun, your laptop, and some files- back into your blue duffel bag.

Sam had always considered himself fairly level-headed and capable of dealing with difficult people but something in him snapped when he saw you packing up to leave over something so stupid, “Fine, go ahead and leave. We’ll deal with the nest without you. But you know what? Nobody asked you to get involved in hunting. You can’t just go run off every time someone dies.”

You scoffed, “I got into hunting to prevent people from dying. I got into hunting to try and save them from being killed by people like you!”

“You’re acting like we just kill everyone we come across. We kill monsters, Y/N. We save people by killing them. We prevent more people from getting turned into monsters by killing them. And you know what? Beth became a monster.” Sam’s voice raised to almost a yell as he gestured widely and aggressively.

“Beth was scared and you murdered her!” You shouted angrily, tears welling in your eyes.

“Beth was killing people!” Sam yelled at you before taking a moment to breathe, continuing more calmly, “Can’t you see that? Most of these monsters we hunt were just poor bastards in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s not a lot we can do for people like that. But we can keep them from hurting others. If we had known there was a werewolf back in Beth’s hometown, we could have killed them before they could turn her and she would still be here. Would you be angry if we’d have killed the werewolf that turned her? Would you still be calling me a murderer?”

You chewed your tongue in your mouth hard, trying to use the physical pain to distract you from the urge to cry out of frustration. Why did he have to make sense? Why did he have to confirm every rational thought you’d ever had concerning the situation? You wanted to hate Sam Winchester for what he’d done but you knew deep down that it was never that simple. You knew he had a point but you didn’t want to admit it.

Sam saw the way your jaw clenched angrily, the way your throat moved as you swallowed hard, and the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears. He took a step closer to you and reached a gentle hand out towards your arm, “I am sorry that you lost your best friend.”

For some reason, the gentle sincerity of his voice is what broke you. Tears fell down your face in hot streams as you cried. They weren’t tears for Beth’s death. Those had long been drained from you, many nights spent mourning what you’d lost. These tears were for the final snap of your animosity for the Winchester. You had spent so long hating him. You wanted to hate him, needed to hate him, but how the hell were you supposed to do that when he looked you in the eye and truly meant it when he said he was sorry.

There was a twinge of pain in his own green eyes that made you realize that he truly had experienced the same sort of heartache that you did and that he was sincerely apologetic for being the cause of it. But it was also clear that, while he was sorry for hurting you, he was not sorry for what he had done. Part of the cause for your tears was that you were angry with yourself for not being able to hate him, despite knowing that he didn’t regret killing Beth. You were crying because he was right. She had become a monster and, in his shoes, you probably would have done the same thing. You would have shot your best friend.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice shaky as you did.

Sam used his light grip on your arm to pull you in slowly for a hug, his large arms enveloping you in a surprisingly comforting embrace. You buried your face into his flannel, tears staining the fabric. One of his large hands gently cradled the base of your head while his other rubbed up and down your shaking back.

He didn’t know what to say anymore. Your response had honestly surprised him. The girl that he was used to receiving nothing but animosity from was now shaking in his arms and apologizing. “It’s okay,” was all Sam could think to mutter out.

He held you like that for a while, though you weren’t sure exactly how long it was. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes and you would be none the wiser but all you knew was that you didn’t want Sam to let you go and, for once, you didn’t hate yourself for it. The tears had dried, leaving only slightly stiff feeling skin in their place. Your breath had long since stopped leaving your lungs in wracked hiccups. Your arms had moved from resting on his broad chest to being loosely wrapped around his waist at some point.

You pulled back first, lifting your head from his chest but keeping your hands on his body still. Sam lifted his cheek off your head, where it had been residing in a surprisingly soft show of affection, and he gazed down at you. You were amazed by how completely you had let your rage blind you. Before tonight, Sam was nothing more than scum to you but now, looking into his eyes after forgiving him, you realized that he was easily one of the most beautiful men you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Even with the tears now gone, Sam still saw the dim light of the cheap motel lamp sparkled against the color of your irises and damn if it wasn’t beautiful. He slid his hand up from your shoulder to gently brush away a few thin strands of hair that had stuck to your cheek while it was pressed against his chest- a feeling he found himself missing. His breath caught in his throat when you reached up to cover his hand with your smaller one, pressing it gently to stay on your cheek.

Your eyes slid closed and you gently nuzzled against his hand before opening your eyes again, reaching around his neck, and oh so slowly pulling him down while you perched on your tiptoes. There was more than enough time for Sam to pull away but he didn’t. In fact, much to your surprise, he closed the gap between you faster. His lips pressed to yours, rougher than you anticipated, but enjoyably nonetheless.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe against his lips but refused to pull away. You bit his lip gently while you kissed, slipping your tongue against his when he gave in to what you were craving.

Sam reached down under your ass and lifted you without you even needing to jump. A squeal of surprise was swallowed by his lips as he walked you both to the bed. Once his legs bumped the old mattress, he sat down, lowering you to land on his lap. Your knees fell to either side of his hips where you gave an experimental rotation of your hips against his clothed erection. He let out a strangle exhalation at the friction, his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you harder onto him. The fabric of his rough jeans rubbed delicious against your clothed core, a wetness beginning to form in your panties.

Slowly, you pressed your weight forward and Sam allowed you to push him onto his back. You laid on top of him, lips moving from his lips down his neck but he didn’t let you get far. Sam placed a supportive hand on the small of your back and managed to flip you both over so he was on top and before you knew it, he was devouring you. Lips kissed hot trails across your face and down your neck, across the tops of your breasts that were ever so slightly revealed by your v-neck t-shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair and he let out a breathy groan when you tugged on the brunette locks, pulling him closer to you. Sam crawled down your body, his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to run across your burning skin beneath. He felt like heaven and hell all in one, burning with fiery lust and yet so sweet and comforting despite the fervor with which he moved.

You pushed yourself up, pushing Sam to sit back on his knees while you did, all without breaking the kiss, to shrug off your jacket. Your shirt was next, falling onto the floor with your jacket before Sam pushed you backwards again, your back hitting the mattress. His large hand started low your belly, running straight up between the valley of your breasts and then raking downwards, pulling the cups of your bra down and grazing your nipples deliciously with his calloused fingers.

It had been so long since you’d been touched like this that even the small act had your back arching into his body. “Sam…” You breathed out, eyes sliding closed at the sensation. Every flick against your sensitive buds sent a shock straight to your core that had you hooking your leg around his hip, pulling him closer into you. Your hands ran up and down his large biceps before moving to pull the sleeves of his flannel down his arms. He only pulled away from you long enough to throw the restricting clothing on the ground, his shirt joining short after.

Your mouth started physically salivating at the sight of the man before you, sculpted by the gods. Defined pectorals and rippling abs covered his torso, adorned with a symbol that looked like a pentagram inside of a sun- a symbol you were unfamiliar with. Sam didn’t give you much time to marvel though because he was back to kissing a line down your body, the light stubble of his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and chest. He stopped to revel in your breasts, wiggling his hands under your body to expertly unclasp your bra and shimmy it off you. The second they were revealed to him, his tongue was dragging across the supple sick and his teeth were lightly nibbling at the sensitive buds.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out in a breathy giggle. Sam switched breasts, giving the other equal attention. Your fingernails raked lightly over his shoulders and across his chest and you felt Sam shiver at the touch. His lips trailed lower and lower until they found the waistline of your jeans. With a quick flick of his fingers, the button was popped and the denim material was dragged down your legs, taking your socks with them as they were pulled over your ankles. He kissed his way back up your legs, from ankle until he slowly inched closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

His scruff scraped along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you bit your lip at the sensation, unsure if you were trying to hold back a giggle from the ticklish feeling or a moan from the shocks it sent to your core. Sam chuckled to himself when he saw the wet patch of cloth over your clothed heat. He’d barely touched you and you were already dripping for him.

He had a wicked idea though. He got closer and closer to your sex, the smell intoxicating, and gripped your thighs tightly, possibly leaving bruises. Just when his lips were about to land on your core, he moved to the left, kissing your hip bones instead and back up your belly.

Annoyed by the teasing, you sat up, pulling Sam up gently by the hair to be face to face with you. Your ass was a few inches from the edge of the bed, toes just touching the ground, when you pushed Sam back just enough to be able to reach his pants. You hooked your fingers into the belt loops on either side of his pelvis and pulled him close to you. His forehead pressed flush against yours, “Are you gonna keep being a tease or are you gonna fuck me already, Winchester?”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made quick work of his remaining clothing and hovered over you like a predator about to move in for the kill. “You want me to just fuck you already?” He mimicked, voice low and testing. His green eyes bore into your own orbs with a challenge that you refused to back down from.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” You challenged, standing up and sliding your underwear down your legs, all while keeping unyielding eye contact with Sam. Once they left your form with a small flick of your toes, a dark smirk krept up on his face.

“Turn around.” He demanded and, while you were inwardly more than happy to comply, you didn’t want him to think he had you quite that easy.

You rolled your eyes as you did, an sinful smirk playing on your lips, “Yes, sir.” You chimed sarcastically.

Before you knew it, you were bent over at the waist, face and chest pressed into the mattress by Sam’s nearly crushing body. His hand snaked around your front, picking up some of your slickness on his fingers before circling your clit while he growled in your ear, “Don’t know what the attitude’s about. You’re the one who asked to get fucked.”

Your knees quivered at his filthy words while his fingers worked your clit slowly and painfully. His rock hard erection rubbed along your ass, teasing your entrance every now and again as he rocked his hips against your body. He stood up and removed his hand from your clit. Your hips moved back, trying desperately to chase his fleeting touch. Sam groaned when your body slid over his cock, skin burning against his own. After a few experimental tugs at his own member, he positioned himself at your entrance, giving you a few moments to back out if that was what you’d wanted. Backing out was so far from what you wanted though. You wanted - nay, needed - him inside of you and you needed him now. You were convinced you’d combust if he made you wait any longer.

His hands landed on your hips to help guide a slow thrust forward. His length gradually entered you, the searing stretch to accommodate him making your muscles contract around him. Sam hisses out a sound of pleasure, “You’re so tight.”

His first few thrusts were slow, each time managing to grind impossibly deeper into you. “Fuck, Sam.” Your fingers wound tightly in the sheets with each thrust of his hips and your eyes screwed shut as your breaths came out almost as hisses through grit teeth.

Sam used his leverage on your hips to move your body in time with his thrusts. Each motion sent your body into the mattress, the bed shaking as he pounded into you. You let out little squeaks of pleasure every now and again but Sam wanted to hear more out of the girl who’d had nothing to say to him but spiteful things for so long.

A large hand came to clasp around your throat, not tight enough to choke you but enough to guide you up. You pressed your body up to your feet sloppily on your hands but standing proved to be a difficult task with Sam still moving relentlessly into you. Your thighs were shaking, barely able to support your weight, as this new angle allowed for Sam to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His hand stayed around your throat, tightening along the sides of your neck when he lost himself in the way you felt around him- warm and soft. You were grateful that he was letting your head lull back against his shoulder otherwise you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay upright.

Sam’s free hand first sloppily groped around the front of your chest until it found one of your breasts, kneading it roughly. The rough skin of his fingers grazed your nipples yet again, only adding to the pleasure you felt below. The knot was tightening and it was tightening fast.

“Please-” You managed to gasp out, not because of the choking (his grip wasn’t that tight) but because the electricity in the room seemed to have stolen your voice. Sam’s hand moved from your nipples down to your clit where he rubbed fast tight circles. “Oh my gosh, yes!” You whined, reaching up overhead to tangle your fingers in his hair. You forced his mouth down to meet yours and the pressure in your core snapped. Your moans and cries of pleasure were swallowed by Sam’s lips and he could have swallowed a thousand more.

He worked you through your orgasm until your body went limp in his arms. Slowly, he came to a stop before pulling out and quickly working himself in his hands. After catching your breath though, you turned back to Sam, placed your hands on his shoulders, and used them to spin the two of you around and push him back onto the bed. His long legs hung over the edge and you settled yourself between his knees, gently grasping his member, still slick with your wetness, and worked him with your hand.

Sam lied back on the white duvet, head thrown back in bliss at your touch. Your hand felt so much better than his own as it worked up and down his shaft before coming up to circle around the tip. He was rock hard and ready to burst at any given moment. When you leaned forward to like a long stripe along the underside of his cock, he was done for. A few more pumps and Sam fell apart in your hand, painting your hand and his stomach with his seed. “Shit!” The muscles of his abs contracted mesmerizingly as the waves of his high rolled over him.

Your hand slowed as his climax came to an end, his member softening in your hand. You wiped the mess he’d made on your hand on your breasts and stomach, knowing it would be easier to keep those parts of you off the covers than your hand. With a heavy sigh of crashing relief, your body fell onto the mattress beside Sam and you both stared at the ceiling in a fucked out post-coital haze.

“So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Sam asked after a few moments, surprising you with the genuine tone behind the semi-joking question.

You stared up at the chipping popcorn ceiling, “I didn’t for like two seconds but now I do again just because those were the first words out of your mouth.” Your voice was steady, unwavering, and Sam cringed inwardly, avoiding eye contact entirely. That is, until you sighed and continued, “But, I guess, if you wanted to take me out for a drink sometime there’s a slim chance I wouldn’t object.” This time, there was a teasing smile on your face when you turned your head to look at Sam.

[vintage-squid]

Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus  Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together  Word count: 10 363 

----- 

Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

Can I request how the guys would react to a SS who plays guitar and they find one in an abandoned building or something and SS starts playing it for them? Your writing is really good btw!!

thank you for requesting! i will do this as regular companions, non romanced. thank you for the compliment, sweet anon! ;v; ❤️

-

they both explored the building with caution, pointing their gun at every corner they turned, ready to shoot anything that came their way. after clearing out most of the area, they reached the final room, slowly opening the door. “wow, this place is pretty well kept,” sole commented incredibly, “given that we live in a shithole, of course.” he looked around the room and noticed that it might’ve been abandoned only recently, seeing that they had left a lot of belongings behind, “yeah, i guess so.” as he looked through the drawers of every container to find some sort of helpful loot, unlike the useless shit sole usually picked up, he had heard an excited squeal come from them. turning around, he caught them bouncing in excitement as they held up an almost near to perfect guitar in their hands. “oh my god, it’s been forever since i’ve seen a guitar!” raising his brow in confusion, he observed the instrument himself, “do people even play these things anymore?” sole only gave him a big grin as they beamed, “wanna see me play?”

Danse:

with a disinterested and perplexed look, he’d reply, “that’s a waste of our time soldier. we have a mission to focus on.” sole would only pout and loudly complain as danse stood by his opinion, “you’re so boring! it’s just a few minutes anyway, so we’ll be fine.” unbothered, danse began scavenging through other parts of the room, ignoring their childish demeanor and averting his attention elsewhere. as he was about to reach the handle for the cabinet, he froze hearing the sound of something soothing hitting his ears. of course, his sudden jolt didn’t go unnoticed by sole, who was observing him carefully. he didn’t realize that their eyes were on his back as they continued to strum the guitar skillfully without effort, “what’s wrong, paladin? can’t focus on your mission?” they teased, enjoying the vulnerability danse began to show. “nonsense.” he was embarrassed to be caught red handed and continued to carry on as if nothing happened. sole shrugged and resumed playing until he decided to break the silence between them. “though it is a waste of time, it is an admiring talent you do acquire. it’s nice to hear something soothing in this chaotic environment.” sole smiled brightly as they jumped up from their seat, a bounce in their step as they headed towards danse, “does that mean i can keep it?” he rolled his eyes, an annoyed tone in his voice, “fine.” he really just wanted to hear sole play again.

Deacon:

“oh yeah, i’ve heard of these things. it’s called a gwatar?” he tapped his chin dramatically, pretending as if he had never seen such a thing in his life, “a geetar? well, whatever it’s called, i can totally play it.” sole would only roll their eyes, playfully shoving the guitar in his direction, “if you’re so “good”, then show me how to play.” deacon let out a hearty laugh as he raised both his hands up in defeat. “i’m kidding, charmer,” he sat on a chair nearby, leaning back as he watched them tune the guitar carefully. “unless, of course, you wanna hear the exact replica of a fork scratching a plate then don’t mind if i do. now let’s get the show rolling.” they let out a little, nervous laugh in response to his silly comment. sole began strumming the guitar and deacon leaned forward, becoming indulged in their small performance. at first, the chords sounded a little strange, some notes sounding out of place with the others but that was probably lack of practice for - well 200 years. soon enough, it began to grow melodious to his ears and a large grin formed on his face. as sole stopped strumming, deacon sauntered up to them and crossed his arms. “i’m impressed, charmer. you should totally create a dramatic tune for whenever i enter HQ.” he continued complimenting sole on the way home, secretly wanting to learn how to play the guitar himself. maybe he’ll build the courage to ask sole sometime soon.

Maccready:

“cmon sole, just leave it. besides, it’s just some doohickey someone left behind,” maccready grumbled, “it obviously wasn’t valuable enough to bring with them so why would it be of any value to us?” honestly, he didn’t mean to be so crabby but the rain soaking his favorite duster wasn’t sitting with him very well. maccready truthfully wanted to head to a hotel or a decent looking house to dry up and hit the hay for the night, but now that sole was distracted and unwilling to leave without the guitar, he figured that his wants weren’t going to be met anytime soon. “there’s no way i’m leaving this behind, mac! do you know how hard it is nowadays to find these things?” unconvinced, maccready still went on with reasons on why sole should just abandon it. he’s probably said every reason in the book - a waste of space, too heavy, useless. sole knew it would take more than talking to persuade him into letting them keep the relic. with a sly smile, they offered him a choice to even things out, “how’s about i play you a song? if you really don’t like it, i promise i’ll leave it without a second thought.” macready only huffed in irritation, “fine. let’s just get this over with so we can go home and finally dry up.” they could barely contain their joy hearing that answer and decided to get into action, wanting to act as quick as possible before he changed his mind. they hit one chord at first, trying to adjust to the feel of the guitar again and soon began playing a small, short song. though irritated at first, maccready felt himself calm down to the sound of the guitar strings being plucked in an adept manner. he looked up at sole who raised a brow, a devious smile painting their face. “well?” after a long silence and him looking back and forth between sole and the guitar, he finally gave in, a small blush dusting his cheeks. “i guess you can.” he agree, sole whispered a small. “yess!”. though a bit less cranky, he still warned sole with a less irritable look on his face, “if that thing distracts us or gets us caught during our missions, then we’re throwing it out.” sole pouted. maccready was such a whiny baby.

Hancock:

“definitely, i haven’t seen anyone play a guitar in a long while.” hancock smiled, feeling the happiness radiating off of sole. being the gentleman he is, he fetched a chair for sole to sit on so they could play comfortably. “thanks, hancock.” he leaned on the wall and crossed his arms as he watched sole tune the guitar string by string. “my pleasure.” soles eyes lit up as they found the right notes, and gave it a small strum to test the waters. they really didnt want to risk the strings snapping and somehow whipping one of their body parts. last time that happened, it left more than just a mark. “ready?” hancock sent sole a grin, “born ready, sister/brother.” sole allowed a soft breath to escape their lips and relaxed their shoulders as they began strumming the guitar effortlessly. he watched with interest, impression dancing in his eyes. he hasn’t heard anything musically pleasant since magnolia and was delighted to learn about their talent. as sole finished their song, he shot them a smirk as he draped an arm over their shoulder. “you know what? you should really play at the third rail,” he offered happily, “and don’t worry, i’ll be your biggest fan.”

Nick Valentine:

“absolutely, it would be lovely to hear something that isn’t the radio every once in a while.” nick was thrilled to hear that sole still held their prewar talents that are seldom to find in the commonwealth. nick would put his hands in his pockets, watching as sole sat down on the chair, positioning themselves comfortably. “is there any particular song you’d like, nick? i’ll tell you if i can play it or not.” nick would think for a moment, trying to go back to his earliest memories before the great war. he had told them a certain song him and jenny use to dance to in the middle of the night and soles eyes lit up, hearing that familiar title. “i remember that song, i still remember how to play it too.” nick let a small chuckle escape his lips, “i guess today is my lucky day then, huh?” they only nodded in response and began strumming the song nick had requested. of course, nick had picked a song of his favorite genre - love. a small smile formed on nicks face as he unconsciously hummed along with the song, feeling a sense of tranquility within him. he was thankful that he was given this opportunity to listen to old school music once more, believing he wouldn’t encounter it again. sole halted on her strumming to send nick a small glance, “how was that? i probably messed up on a few chords and stuff but-“

“it was perfect. thank you, sole.” nick tilted his hat upwards to look sole straight in the eye, “you should really consider playing again sometime, i would love to hear more of the pieces that you remember.” sole agreed happily, and often played it around nick whenever they had the chance to. though rare, nick would bring home a music sheet or two that he had located during his adventures for sole to practice their guitar skills.

[catfe-overlord]

“Cold”

Part 2

Read part 1 here

::In which Bakugou and Kirishima are still trapped in a cave, slowly freezing to death, and luck doesn’t seem to be in their favor today as things only go downhill::

•••••••••••••••

It was probably the sound of teeth chattering that woke him. That didn’t make much sense because he was surprisingly warm in his sleeping bag.

Then it dawned on him. Kirishima.

Bakugou sat up, ignoring the pain that spiked through his back. The fire was nearly out, and Kirishima stood over it attempting to bring it back to life. Even in the dull light Bakugou could see how pale his boyfriend was.

“Dumbass!” Bakugou spat. “If you were this cold you should have told me!”

He looked over at Bakugou with sad puppy eyes. It made Bakugou seethe, disgusted by how fucking adorable it was. Kirishima had no business being that cute.

“You looked so peaceful,” Kirishima admitted. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You’re freezing, idiot. Take the stupid sleeping bag before I beat you to death.”

Bakugou wiggled out of the bag before Kirishima could protest. He kicked it over to the redhead, who only looked guilty accepting it. Nonetheless, he knew Bakugou enough to know he wasn’t joking around. Kirishima looked like a ghost, and that was putting it lightly. His skin was deathly white and his lips were a disturbing shade of purple. The dark, dried blood that trailed down the side of his face only helped to make him look paler. There was a slight tremble to his shoulders Bakugou couldn’t ignore.

“Sit down and get warm,” Bakugou demanded, forcing himself to stand without the use of his arms. “I’m going to get the fire going again.”

“Without using your quirk.”

“Tch. I will if I have to.”

“You’ll only hurt yourself—”

“I don’t give a damn!” Bakugou shouted through gritted teeth. “My arms aren’t as important as our lives.”

“I get that, Kats, but what about your quirk? If you hurt your arms bad enough that you can’t use your quirk again, your hero dream is over.”

Bakugou frowned. “I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I couldn’t even save the guy I loved.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to respond but clamped it shut again. A soft smile spread over his lips. “I love you too, Katsuki.”

He finally climbed into the sleeping bag and parked himself beside the dying fire. He melted into the fabric, and the teeth chattering slowly silenced. “Wow,” Kirishima breathed, “it’s still warm from you. I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

Bakugou knew Kirishima must have been freezing because without the insulated sleeping bag Bakugou could feel just how much the temperature dropped since the avalanche. “Ei, how long have we been in here?”

“Mm, maybe a couple hours? I’m not sure. The communicator still isn’t working, so I haven’t caught word from anyone yet.”

Bakugou huffed. He really hoped the class hadn’t assumed they were dead. After so long without answers, Bakugou wouldn't be surprised if any of them started to feel dread. He knew his classmates well enough to know they wouldn’t give up though.

With his left arm, which hurt a little less than his right, he scooped up Kirishima’s flashlight off the ground and clicked it on. He headed deeper into the cave in search of more sticks, hearing a faint, “Be careful!” from behind him, which he responded to with a grunt.

Fucking rocks everywhere. That’s all he could find! He was beginning to lose hope when he finally came across a branch long dead and speckled with crisp leaves.

He started kicking the thing back towards the fire, figuring he didn’t want to drag it back and hurt his arms more. The pain had lessened to a dull throbbing, but using his arms now would only bring it back tenfold.

He finally reached the fire and started stomping on the branch to break it up into smaller sticks. Once pleased with his work, he sat with his legs criss-crossed and used his left arm to toss branches into the flames one by one. The fire was already coming back to life.

“Good job, dude!” Kirishima congratulated him from where he was snuggled up in the sleeping bag. He scooted closer to Bakugou until their shoulders touched.

“Hungry?” Bakugou asked, leaning into Kirishima. He could feel the slightest warmth radiating from him.

“Honestly, yeah,” Kirishima answered. “I didn’t eat much today. A couple protein bars and an apple.”

Flatly, Bakugou said, “Eijirou.”

“I know, I know. ‘Take better care of yourself, blah, blah.’ I would’ve eaten better if I’d known we wouldn’t be back in time for dinner. Didn’t expect to wind up trapped in a cave when I ran out the door this morning.”

Bakugou scowled. It was because of him they were in this mess after all. If he’d just used his damn brain, Kirishima wouldn’t be freezing to death or starving or bleeding from the head!

Kirishima nudged him. “Hey. I didn’t mean it like that. This isn’t your fault, Blasty.”

Kirishima Eijirou and Bakugou Katsuki—

Both boys stiffened at the sudden voice echoing in their heads. It was a feminine voice, and strangely the woman was speaking directly into Bakugou’s brain, not his ears. He noted the voice sounded distantly familiar as it continued to coil through his mind.

This is Mandalay of the Wild, Wild Pussycats. If you can hear this message, just sit tight. We’re on our way. It may be awhile before we can reach you, so do your best to survive. Keep warm and stay alert. The mountain is more unstable than anyone realized. A second avalanche is likely, but we’ll try to have you both to safety before it comes to that. We’re doing everything we can. Mandalay, over and out.

Bakugou’s mouth felt suddenly dry. He remembered those damn Pussycat heroes from the training camp where the League managed to snag him. Mandalay was the most normal of the bunch of freaks, Pixie-Jo or whatever the fuck her name was had been a total creep, and he wasn’t around the other two weirdos enough to even remember their names.

“The tracker must be working,” Kirishima breathed, more likely thinking out loud than talking to Bakugou. He slumped against his boyfriend, letting his head rest against Bakugou’s shoulder. “They’re coming for us.”

Bakugou grunted his reply. He reached past Kirishima for the backpack, but a sharp pain shot from his wrist to his elbow. He drew back too fast, only managing to worsen the pain. He bit his lip to hold back a yelp.

“Babe! Hey, you alright?” Kirishima was asking then, whipping his arms out of the sleeping bag to cradle Bakugou as he held his arm tight against his chest. “No more using your arms. If you need something, just ask me next time.”

“‘Kay,” Bakugou spoke through clenched teeth. He would’ve argued if anyone else were here, but it was just Kirishima. He knew not to push it. He didn’t like making Kirishima mad.

The redhead pulled the bag to them and dug out the thermos. After he unscrewed the cap, a plume of steam rose from the mouth of the can. “Wow, still warm.”

“Good,” Bakugou breathed out through a sigh. “It’ll help warm up our cores. Help us stay alive.”

Kirishima nodded against him. He took a long sip from the thermos, then passed it to Bakugou. “Cheers.”

Bakugou chuckled at that, but the sound was strained. He accepted the soup, downing a few gulps himself.

There was a strange rumble then. Bakugou stiffened at the sound of shifting rocks. Kirishima‘s grip on him tightened.

There were a few short moments of near perfect silence, despite the crackling of the fire. Bakugou swallowed, bringing himself to stand up. He had a bad feeling rising in his chest.

“Do you think that’s them? The Pros?” Kirishima asked quietly. “Our classmates?”

Bakugou pursed his lips. “I don’t think so, Ei.”

Then it happened all at once, so fast Bakugou could hardly process what was happening. He would’ve been killed if it wasn’t for Kirishima’s instantaneous reaction.

The rumbling was loud, so loud, and the ground was shaking and the ceiling was practically coming down. Bakugou stumbled and tripped over the backpack, throwing his hands out to protect himself.

He screamed at the pure agony that shot through his arms, the sound ripping through his throat. All he could think about was pain, pain, pain.

Kirishima dove on top of him, his body hardened from head to toe. He braced himself on his hands and knees, taking each blow from the ceiling as it crumbled.

The light of the fire disappeared, and the boys were consumed in darkness. The cave went silent and still, as well as Bakugou’s mind.

++++++++++++++

Read part 3 here

IM SORRY... for how long it took me to post this. Not for tormenting our two best boys of course 👀

Yeah, I had a lot of problems with the program I was using to write this (kept telling me there was a merge error ?? And deleting random bits of my work ?????) so I’ve switched over to Google Docs and so far that’s working well for me. It’ll take some getting used to, but worth the change so long as it doesn’t randomly delete my writing 😤 (yes I’m a little salty about it)

ANYWAY ! Thanks for the read, and I’ll have the final part posted soon! I started another fic that I think y’all might like,,,,, maybe,,,, hopefully ?? Yep yep KiriBaku of course.

9/14/2020

[marveloussupernerd]

McDonalds - Jumin Han

Uh so this was supposed to be part 1 of my collection of one shots for a pregnancy mini series but it just turned into me writing about jumin’s first time at McDonald’s. If you squint you can see the allusion to a pregnancy if you don’t want to see that then don’t squint. NOT gender neutral, feel free to request something gender neutral if you’d like! This is a pregnancy series so it didn’t come to mind

Summary: you get sick in the middle of the night. There’s no sprite at home, so you force Jumin to go to McDonald’s with you so you can get some.

You had woken up with a start. Why did you feel so sick? Jumin’s hand rested on your arm as the two of you slept, his head tucked between your shoulder and your neck. You had wanted to move more subtly as to not stir him from his sleep but oh boy you felt sick. You yanked yourself off the bed and ran to the bathroom, flipping the lid of the toilet and allowing your body to release whatever was in it that made it so upset.

You hadn’t gotten sick like this in a while. Your body heaved with heavy breaths, you let out a cough, hoping it would relieve some pressure.

And then, he was rubbing your back. You turned your head slightly to look at him, tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s okay,” he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “You’re my wife. I want to be here for you.”

You took another deep breath, trying to decide if you would get sick again or not. Probably not? You closed the lid to the toilet and flushed it. You sniffled. It was embarrassing honestly. And you didn’t feel good. It was just not a good situation overall.

Jumin stood up first, offering his hand to gently help you up. “Is there anything I can get you that may help? I could make you some tea or something,” he offered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked rather handsome in his navy plaid pajama pants and powder blue t shirt. But tired. You felt bad once more for waking him up.

He sensed your emotions, as per usual, and sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “My love, it is not a problem at all. Please don’t feel bad. Are you still feeling ill?”

“It was probably something I ate,” you shrugged nonchalantly, making your way past him. “I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with fish.” You made your way to the kitchen, smoothing your sleep shirt. You knelt down in front of the fridge. “Do we have any sprite or ginger ale or anything?” You asked, pulling the door open and looking through the shelves. Jumin usually made the order for food, so it wasn’t surprising that you had no idea what you had on hand.

“Hmmm,” he knelt down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder as he peeked into the fridge. “I don’t think so. I can send someone out to get some though.”

You looked down at your phone. “At 4 am?”

“That is the time, yes.”

Oh Jumin. He was so innocent and sweet. He really didn’t realize how this call would inconvenience someone; his focus was on you. “We can’t do that; I don’t wanna bother anyone.” You swung the fridge closed and made your way back to your bedroom, rifling through your drawer to grab a bra to put on.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a look of utter confusion obvious on his face even in the dark of the bedroom.

“Will you get my coat for me love? I’m going to go get some sprite.” He walked away, very confused, but still listening to your request.

You walked over to the closet, grabbing a pair of sandals to slide on when you felt Jumin slide your coat onto your arms, his coat already on. “Aw, you’re coming with me love?” You grinned, pulling him into your embrace.

“Of course I am. Should I call Driver Kim?” He asked, pulling out his phone as he slipped some shoes on.

“Nah, we can walk. It isn’t far.”

The two of you padded outside the penthouse doors to greet the two security guards on call. “We’re going to go get a sprite. Would you mind joining?” You offered. Well it wasn’t really an offer, but you liked to make it seem that way. Jumin wrapped his arm around you; a gesture that pushed the men to agree to your proposal immediately. The four of you walked, your arm looped in Jumin’s as you clung to him for warmth. You were so focused on your upset stomach that you hadn’t even considered changing out of the shorts you were sleeping in. You rested your cheek against the shoulder of his coat, pulling him in the direction you wanted to go. It was only seven buildings down.

He was surprised when you stopped there. “A McDonald’s?”

“One of the few places open 24 hours with sprite, yes,” you affirmed, pulling him into the restaurant. You stood a few feet back from the register, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked at the menu. “You two need to get something too!” You exclaimed, turning to the security guards. They looked flustered by your proposal. “They’re only serving breakfast right now, but at the very least get a drink? For your trouble of having to go out so late.”

Jumin seemed... intrigued? How had your husband never been to a McDonald’s before. You knew he only ate healthy, but he had never even been inside a McDonald’s? It was weird. “Don’t worry, Honey. I’ll pick something out for you,” you winked, then turned back to the guards. “Yknow what you want?” You asked. Two hash browns and two large drinks. Nothing too complicated.

You walked up to the front register. Jumin hung back, still very overwhelmed. The man at the register looked to be in his early 20s and terribly confused. In retrospect, he was probably not used to a couple followed by two men in full suits walking in at four in the morning.

“Hi!” You greeted, cheery as ever. “Could I get a medium fountain drink, two large drinks, three hash browns, and three hotcakes?” You asked, twirling your wedding ring anxiously around your finger. It was helpful to fidget with something while you spoke, especially when ordering something. It helped you remember everything.

“Is that all for you?” He asked. He seemed hesitant. You reminded yourself, again, that he was probably confused.

Oh! You forgot to get Jumin a drink. You whipped around to face him. “You want something to drink, Bunny?” Short for Honey Bunny of course. You usually alternated between Honey and Bunny for him.

He stared at you, still in awe. Looks like the decision was up to you. “Uh, can I add another medium drink please? And then that’s all.”

Jumin eased his way up to you to pay. You tried to swipe him off but he wouldn’t let you, not that that surprised you though; he insisted on paying for everything. But when he heard the total, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. All that food for only $10 (fam or whatever the equivalent is where you live I’m lazy haha)!? How was that even possible?

After paying, the man handed you the drink cups then went to get started on the order. You passed out a cup to everyone in the party, but Jumin hesitated. “It’s empty,” he whispered, slightly under his breath. You knew he was embarrassed; he genuinely didn’t know what was going on.

“Mhm! And you go over to that drink fountain and fill it up with whatever you want.” You pointed to the guards filling theirs up with ice and Coca Cola. You gently grabbed his hand and pulled him to get his drink. “McDonalds sprite hits different. I don’t know. It’s extra crispy or something.”

“How does that even make-“ he stopped himself. To be fair you weren’t sure how it made sense either, but it was true. “What should I get?”

“Whatever you want! You can even mix them if you want.”

He made his way over to the tea: a safe bet. You helped him pull the lid on the cup, then went back to the front where your food was waiting.

“I’ve got it Mrs. Han,” the guard offered, grabbing onto the food for you so that you’d have an open hand to hold onto Jumin. You smiled, thanking him and the cashier, then heading out, holding Jumin’s hand tightly in your own.

“That was quite a fun experience.” Jumin smiled, walking back to the building under the dark night sky. A breeze passed by; you shivered. He smiled. “Don’t worry, Love. Once we get home we can bundle up and eat our food, then go right back to bed. Are you feeling better?”

You nodded. “The fresh air helped, and the sprite is helping too. I think it was a nice way to get my mind off of it,” you smiled, swinging your hands as you walked.

“So what exactly did you get me?” He asked, holding the door to the building open for you once you got there.

“Hash browns! Okay, you’re going to be skeptical because they are pretty unhealthy, but I swear they’re SO good.”

He laughed, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. “Well I can’t wait to try them.”

[ruzek-halstead]

date

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

hailey is going on a date and jay is in severe need of a distraction. he calls on his intelligence boys for a guy's night, but that's all forgotten when hailey shows up after her date.

“i don’t even know the chicago med number, much less will’s extension of 3778.”

masterlist || ao3

warnings: swearing, fluffery, adam ruzek’s dumbassery

it starts as a day like any other. it’s early, most of the team has just gotten in, and jay is in the break room getting some freshly brewed coffee. there was no open case and voight wasn’t in yet, which meant the unit was catching up on paperwork and anything else they had been avoiding for the past week.

on his way back to his desk, jay observes vanessa leaning against hailey’s desk, as they chat. with a quick look around the bullpen, he notices kim is nowhere to be found, but he’s sure if she were here, she would be right there with them.

“i can’t believe you’re going on a date!” vanessa squeals in excitement.

two things happen in that moment.

hailey rolls her eyes and looks down at the paperwork sitting in front of her and jay trips over his chair and spills his coffee all over his desk. and paperwork.

vanessa whips around and hailey immediately stands up in shock.

“jay! are you okay?” hailey expresses her concerns, instantly making her way over to his side of the desk and collecting his most precious items so they don’t get destroyed. vanessa escapes into the break room to grab some paper towels.

jay looks up and makes eye contact with adam, who is smirking like all hell.

“yeah. shit, sorry,” he apologizes meekly. he’s used to being calm and collected - not nervous and frazzled.  vanessa soaks up the coffee with paper towels and although his desk is a little sticky, it’s manageable. “thanks,” he mumbles to vanessa, as they resume their previous positions.

he attempts to act nonchalant (and like he’s not totally eavesdropping) by organizing his files.

“can you show me a picture again?”

jay crinkles one of his files by tightening his grip; he’s really trying.

“i already showed you a picture like five times, v!”

jay pales; oh god, they’ve been talking about this for a while, haven’t they?

“i’m sorry, i’m just so excited!” vanessa replies; she seems more excited than hailey is, which piques jay’s interest. “it’s been so long since you last went on a date.”

hailey rolls her eyes again. “yes vanessa, i’m aware of that, thank you.”

“and he’s a successful lawyer! like way to go off with a bang!”

jay fights the urge to roll his eyes this time. a lawyer? come on, hailey.

“if you ask me,” adam interrupts by rolling back on his chair and stuffing himself between the two detectives, “she will never do better than her ex, but that’s just my opinion.”

hailey replies by aiming a punch at his crotch, but adam is too quick (and honestly, he’s probably expecting it; with his lack of a filter, it can’t be the first time).

“where are you guys going?” vanessa continues the conversation as if adam never interrupted.

hailey continues filling in her paperwork. “we’re just going to grab a drink at a bar downtown. really simple. we’ve only met like twice.”

jay can’t listen anymore; it’s starting to cause him physical pain.

he stands from his desk abruptly and goes back to the break room with his coffee mug. there were so many emotions swarming his brain, he isn’t even sure what to think.

he’s interrupted by adam entering the break room.

“hey buddy,” he greets with a smirk. “how’s it going?”

“shut up.”

adam pours himself some more coffee, while jay sulks by the window. “you know this could all be easily avoided.”

“i don’t know to what you are referring to.”

adam rolls his eyes. “if you just told her how you felt, she wouldn’t even think twice about going on this date.”

“i do not comprehend the words that are coming out of your mouth.”

at his stubbornness, adam just stares disapprovingly. “fine; you can be like that. i’ll be sure to ask hailey to share the details of her date out loud, in graphic detail.”

jay’s jaw drops at the pure evil smirk gracing adam’s features. what an ass, jay thinks.

kevin walks in, but stops when he notices the tension in the room. “shit, is this about upton’s date?”

jay throws his arms up in exasperation and bumps his head against the wall, in hopes that it’ll spontaneously knock him out and when he wakes up, it’ll be next week.

“yeah, it is,” adam replies, handing kevin a mug of coffee (these detectives looooove their coffee). “i keep telling him this is so simple. if he just told her how she felt, she wouldn’t have to go on dates with randoms and i could win my $100 dollars.”

jay quirks an eyebrow at adam’s words. he doesn’t even look ashamed, while kevin looks a little sheepish. “there is a bet going on about you two, but it really isn’t important.”

“no, what’s important is you marching in there right now and declaring your love for her,” adam replies, motioning to the bullpen. “and then i can buy drinks tonight with my well earned $100.”

jay knocks his head against the wall again.

“no,” he mumbles.

“what’s that?” adam quirks an eyebrow. “you’ll do this for me because you absolutely adore me?”

jay shakes his head. “nope; this isn’t happening. i am going to avoid my problems,” adam groans, “and we’re going to have a guy’s night tonight.”

“a guy’s night?” kevin asks, biting his lip.

jay nods his head. “yes. i need this. this will take my mind off hailey…” he gulps in distaste, “and her date.”

“fine. but you’re buying,” adam replies, clapping jay on the back as he exits.

jay frowns. “i thought we could each pitch in for a round. do you understand how much you drink?”

“do you want our help or not?” adam smirks, popping his head back in.

“fine,” jay grumbles.

adam smirks cheekily, while kevin just shakes his head in amusement. “fantastic. i’m feeling extra thirsty today.”

“i hate you.”

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the rests of jay’s day continued on smoothly. he didn’t get much of a chance to be alone with hailey and chat, due to their lack of cases. she mostly focused on her paperwork and as much as he adored vanessa (she was adorable, how could anyone not?) she also didn’t leave hailey’s side for the day. too much excitement over hailey’s “get together with a colleague”. jay refused to call it a date, even in his mind.

instead, adam, kevin and him went straight to molly’s after the end of their shift, because the sooner jay could start drinking, the better. they were on round two (paid by him of course because adam conveniently “forgot” his wallet) when will walked in. he already had a wild smirk in his face, as he made a beeline straight towards them.

“alright, which one of you idiots called him?”

adam scoffs. “i don’t even know the chicago med number, much less will’s extension of 3778.”

“once again: i hate you.”

kevin snickers, bumping fists with adam. the two of them were enjoying this far too much.

“good evening gentlemen! looks like you all got started without me?” will teases, taking off his jacket and stealing a stool next to jay. he flags herrmann down and asks for another round. “add it to jay’s tab,” he says with a wink.

jay merely tips his bottle up in cheers and herrmann just smirks.

“alright, so why are we here?” will asks, narrowing his eyes at his younger brother.

jay opens his mouth to reply but kevin beats him to it, “upton’s going out on a date tonight.”

“and jay is handling it very well actually,” adam says, much to jay’s surprise. “he only spilled coffee all over his desk when he found out.”

will is laughing and jay is dying inside. he needs to find new friends.

“i’m sorry; are we here to distract me or sit around and talk about our feelings?”

will hands him a fresh new bottle and says, “copy you.”

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it had only been an hour, but boy, they could drink.

they kept their drink of choice mostly to beers, with adam and kevin venturing out to a few shots. but the more jay drank, the more he realized, he didn’t want to get completely plastered. while they didn’t talk about hailey and what she was doing, she was always in the back of his mind. it was stupid, he knew that. he could just talk to her; he could just tell her how he was feeling.

however, the idea of him telling hailey how he felt about her seemed equivalent to drinking car battery acid.

but then he sees a flash of blonde hair enter the bar and his bottle slips from his grip.

“jay, what the hell?” adam groans, clumsily reaching across the bar to grab some napkins to soak up the spill.

jay is too distracted to care. “hailey,” he chokes out, his mind growing fuzzy.

“yes, i know. we’re not supposed to talk about her,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

will reaches around jay (who is dumbly staring at his partner making her way over to them) to smack adam’s arms. “no dumbass, it’s hailey,” he informs him, watching as adam turns around and his mouth falls into an o. “hey hailey, how are you?” he asks politely.

“hey will, i’m good, thanks. how are you?”

it’s true that most of them were severely inebriated but even in that state, they could tell that she was full of shit. she was not good. her eyes were tired and her smile was fake, but they couldn’t tell why.

“good, thanks,” he replies slowly, sizing her up with his eyes. “actually, we were just leaving, right boys?”

kevin shoots her a smile. “yes, we were. because i’ve had a little too much tequila and it’s time for bed.”

“me too,” adam smirks, nearly falling off his stool and grabbing onto hailey’s shoulders to keep upright. “i don’t really need to go home,” he tries to whisper but he’s failing miserably, “we’re just leaving so you and jay can talk.”

jay drops his head against the bar and groans loudly.

“ooookay,” will laughs, grabbing adam’s arm and transferring his weight onto him from hailey. “kev and i will make sure he gets home safe. goodnight, you two!”

jay keeps his forehead nailed to the bar, even when he hears hailey sit in the stool next to him.

“jay,” she says quietly.

he automatically lifts his head and looks at her (how can he not? she looks gorgeous).

“how did your date go?”

a corner of her lip lifts sadly. “it didn’t.”

“what?” he snaps, much quicker than he should have. he winces but he’s too curious to care.

hailey absentmindedly begins playing with one of the old beer bottles left on the counter to distract herself; it also helped to not make eye contact with him (his eyes are just too much for her). “yeah, it didn’t end up happening. he never showed.”

“what?” jay repeats again, this time with a bit more edge in his tone.

the fact that someone stood hailey up (even though he was against this date from the beginning) severely pissed him off.

“yeah, i don’t know,” she replies sheepishly.

jay frowns. “what the hell? that’s not okay.”

“it’s fine, jay,” she protests, because of course she does.

“it’s not fine!” he replies, feeling himself getting riled up. “that’s not okay because you deserve the fucking world.”

hailey looks at him, her big blue eyes staring at him emotionally.

“god hailey, you deserve so much. you’re the best person i’ve ever known.”

hailey blushes, which is extremely rare, and she doesn’t like it. but it’s jay.

“you’re drunk, jay,” she mumbles, busying herself with cleaning up the counter.

jay stops her by grabbing her wrist; her blue eyes turn to him, nervous. “no, i’m not. i’ve never been so sure of myself.”

hailey doesn’t reply.

“i really didn’t want you to go on that date. fuck, i even spilled my coffee because i was so caught off guard.” she’s laughing at him and it puts him more at ease. “i just—god, i am so horrible at expressing my feelings. but i didn’t want you to go on a date, because i don’t want you to go on any dates, with anyone.”

hailey raises an eyebrow.

“anyone but me, of course.” there. it’s finally out there. “i was so jealous, hailey. i needed the guys to bring me out tonight and distract me so i wouldn’t ping your cell phone and crash your date. honestly, i really did think about it but then i’d have to explain why and clearly i’m so bad at this and you can stop me at any time, please.”

jay finally stops talking, but hailey isn’t saying anything. that makes him nervous.

“i was wondering how long it would take you to admit your feelings.”

that is definitely not what he was expecting.

“um, what?”

“i’m not an idiot jay!” she laughs. “you are the least clumsiest person i’ve ever met. the fact that you spilled your coffee right after my date was mentioned was definitely no coincidence.”

jay frowns. “you mean i’m not a master at hiding my emotions?”

“no, you are,” hailey snorts, “but so am i, and it takes one to know one.”

“since i’ve just spilled my heart out to you, what do you have to say to me?” he teases in a light but nervous manner. he can’t tell much from her reaction what she’s feeling.

she doesn’t say anything, she just stares at him with an unreadable expression.

he’s about to throw in the towel and take everything back, but then she throws herself off her stool and into his body. her lips meet his in a surprise kiss and surprise is an understatement.

jay’s inebriated brain takes a moment to register what is actually happening, but once he does, he surges forward with a ferocity that nearly knocks him off his own stool. hailey keeps the kiss short and pulls away, but doesn’t move from her newfound spot in between his knees.

“that was amazing, but i’m going to need some verbal confirmation,” jay teases, unable to tear his eyes away from her sheepish expression and rosy cheeks. he’s sure he’s smiling, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to stop for the duration of the night.

hailey leans her forehead against this chest for a moment. “of course i like you, jay. don’t ask me why, i honestly couldn’t tell you.”

“you can’t tease me right now hailey, i am literally on top of the moon,” he says, and it’s too adorable, she can’t do anything but laugh.

hailey happily nuzzles into the crook of his neck and stands there as he holds her. she’s quiet for several moments, until she sighs and says, “looks like i owe ruzek a hundred bucks.”

jay’s eyes widen at the insinuation of her statement, but all he can do is join her in a laugh.

[regrettablewritings]

Preferences: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Okoye, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Ahkmenrah

Okoye

Okoye is straightforward and stony upon first impressions. And, admittedly, even afterward. The only real difference is that, if one gets to know her better, they might find shock in the fact that in spite of her appearance, she Dora leader actually likes sweets. However, it’s not sweet things in general that Okoye feels guilty for enjoying: It’s Starbucks.

Starbucks is the antithesis of everything Okoye is associated with: Supremely un-Wakandan, a chain establishment, and overall just not worth the absurd cost. Not to mention superbly unhealthy when compared to the rest of a fighter’s typical diet. But yet you can bet that every time she needs to go out of the country or off-continent, there’s an invasive shout for joy at the possibility that she might be able to get her hands on a Frappucino (followed by an internal scolding).

She can’t even explain exactly why she likes it; there are plenty of good, even healthier sweet things back in Wakanda -- heck, back anywhere else!

But it’s a bit like when someone craves the cheap taste of school pizza over a legit pie cooked in a stone hearth: She just loves the sugary sweetness, the application of whipped cream to an already tooth-rottingly saccharine icy drink, the addition of chocolate. But Bast, she also hates it. But ever since T’Challa practically shoved a grande cup of caramel frappucino into her hands, she hasn’t felt entirely the same.

Against her better judgement, she’s more or less unintentionally tried 45% of the menu drink-wise. She doesn’t particularly care much for the food part of the establishment, though if she should ever find herself in one during the fall, she might indulge in a chunky slice of pumpkin bread under the conviction that it’s healthy enough for being gourd-related. Never mind that it’s just a cinnamon mixture with more sugar than actual pumpkin-derived anything.

Really, of all those mentioned on this list, Okoye is the one who probably feels the most disappointed in herself whenever she indulges in her guilty pleasure: It’s a betrayal to her patriotism, to her dignity, and to her attempts to eat healthy. But damn, if this type of betrayal doesn’t taste so addicting . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

The thing about Lucifer is that it’s actually a bit hard for him to feel any regrets over liking anything; he’s the Devil, after all, so his whole thing is about embracing the things that make you feel good. And even besides that, he’s mostly managed to skate by in his time on Earth by categorizing things as Stuff He Likes, Stuff He Tolerates, Stuff He Doesn’t Bother With, and Stuff Humans Seem to Enjoy But He Doesn’t Quite Get. It’s a tad restricted of a system but you can’t argue with results.

However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. The Devil can, in fact, recognize absurdity in liking certain things. Hence why, to a point, he’s fallen prey to his own bizarre pleasures: The Devil has guilty pleasures, and it’s in stupid YouTube videos, Vine, and TikTok.

After he finally drank the Kool-Aid and got himself a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer fell down the rabbit hole that is YouTube prank videos and strange uploads about nonsense and animal humor. It was also only a matter of time before he found himself stumbling into Vine compilations. The Celestial is terrifically mystified by the creative power of humans, managing to tell entire stories and peak comedy in only a span of seven seconds. But he’s also quite loathe to have realized it’s been long defunct by the time he’s discovered it.

He’s even more loathe to find himself making references in his daily life: He has actually quietly blurted out, “I sure hope it does” in response to seeing a Road Work Ahead sign, causing Chloe some confusion (and Lucifer lots of embarrassment). He has referred to a culprit as “Jared, Age 19″. Since discovering Vine, there has been at least one night wherein he and a bed mate were sitting there with barbecue sauce on his tiddies, but that was by sheer coincidence.

But eventually the Vine compilation well dried up, and the inevitable transfer over to TikTok happened. And Luci honestly doesn’t know what to make of TikTok. He would describe it as Vine’s Molly-addicted cousin based on its obsession with dancing, but the dances are so stationary that even that doesn’t seem quite right. The videos on the platform are also much more . . . bizarre. And some of them admittedly trigger a fight-or-flight response in him, to which he always chooses the third option of freezing if only so he can keep watching the train wreck unfold before his eyes.

The trouble with TikTok, he’ll admit to himself, is that it’s not as easy to find iconic content the same way he could with Vine. However, this isn’t to say that he hasn’t found anything worth watching over and over and over again . . .

(Let’s just say the “Wolf Pack Compilation” lives in his head rent-free, and he’s both too amused by it and too overwhelmed by its vibe to try and evict it.)

Dewey Finn

Dewey is . . . a special case. Given that he associates messy living and indulging in one’s pleasure a part of the rocker lifestyle, he’s generally quick to embrace whatever makes him happy. He’s very upfront about his interests and is arguably almost incapable of feeling shame. But it’s in there: Deep down. No, not in himself -- in his Spotify. Specifically, a Spotify account made on an email he never uses because it was made specifically to create this separate, uber secret playlist.

One marked “Actual Musical Bops.”

Dewey hates musicals: They’re cheesy, uninspired, gaudy, ridiculous, totally aimed at chicks with weird fantasies that he could never aspire to, and the music is just overall unimpressive. And yet, somehow, against his music elitist nature, a handful have managed to slip through the cracks. At the very least, a handful of numbers have clawed their way past his defenses and into his ear, where they now live rent-free.

In spite of his best efforts, the problems are that he’s a New Yorker, so it’s inevitable that he hears a song or two; and also that, as an instructor (to wealthy New York tweens whose families can afford frequent tripes to the Great White Way, no less), he’s definitely going to wind up hearing about some shows and their stand-out numbers: Against his will, he knows the lyrics to “My Shot”; he has cried in the secrecy of his apartment to “When I Grow Up”; in the never-necessary reason he needs to remember how many minutes there are in a year, he sings it inside his head; hell, he’s even found himself trying to figure out the electric guitar riff from “The Phantom of the Opera” during his down time.

What’s all the more embarrassing is that, given how he presents himself as a music elitist, there’s just no way he can come back from this if anyone were to know. He has to catch himself when he finds himself humming “Johanna” in the teacher’s lounge. He scowls at himself when he can’t sleep and gives in and starts playing “No One is Alone.” He wants to kick his thick ass every time he realizes he’s excited to have stumbled across a “slime tutorial” on YouTube, this one with better quality than the last. The reason he actually put a password on his phone wasn’t out of privacy like a sensible person would, but out of a need to make sure that no one ever found out that he had downloaded the entire Beetlejuice soundtrack, including jankily-recorded songs that never made it to the official cast recording for whatever reason!

And should anyone ever find out about any of this, Dewey has a plan: “Oh, I’m doing research. I’m studying these songs so I can give the kids a lesson on what not to do as actually competent musicians.”

But the lesson would never actually come. Mainly because he keeps prolonging his “research” . . .

He’s also developed a bit of a soft spot for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to some students gushing about it, but he would rather sooner die than ever be associated with the term “brony.”

Peter B. Parker

Peter is at a point where he’s too tired to really care about the idea of guilty pleasures. The way he sees it, there are bigger priorities at stake than worrying about someone finding out about your love of some hokey activity or food or form of entertainment.

Besides, he’s a New Yorker: There’s way weirder stuff for people to just not pay any real attention to. Hence why he thinks nothing of his bizarre eating habits. And no, this isn’t referring to his disastrous appetite: This is about his tendency to eat food with his hands. Foods that, well, he really should probably utilize eating utensils for.

To be fair, this habit has always existed in him in some form or another, especially since, as Spider-Man, he often needs to eat food on the go. But during the time he spent living the life of a depressed bachelor, it came out in full force. On the rare occasion he wasn’t eating a food that deserved to be eaten by hand, he often found himself loathing the idea of doing the dishes afterward. There would be days he’d feel only slightly less depressed; enough to make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese in the pot, but not enough to avoid cutting out the middle man.

He’s thankful the craptastic apartment wasn’t also see-through because if it were, he’s positive his neighbors would’ve thought they were bearing witness to a man’s breakdown as he wept into a pot of macaroni and cheese, his hand full of the stuff, while wearing a Spider-Man costume. (And, to be fair, they actually would be.)

In addition to this, there were also those nights where he would be prepared to actually tuck in to a plate of spaghetti, only for some crime going on elsewhere in the city to drag him away. By the time he’d return, the plate would’ve been cold and his energy too depleted to want to even dream about cleaning more than he already had to.

The great news is that he’s thankfully done a 180, now able and willing (if begrudgingly) to clean up after himself. But bad news is that this feral man will still eat a fully-loaded baked potato like an apple. In a park. In front of women and children. He’s just too tired to care anymore. He’s aware of the guilt in this as a concept, but he’s also aware that he needs to take whatever happiness he can get out of whatever he does. And if that means eating everything by hand, then so be it!

Ahkmenrah

Funnily enough, Ahkmenrah doesn’t seem to experience much of any shame for enjoying the things most might feel the need to hide: He’s constantly curious and has missed out on a lot over the centuries, so why should he feel bad for wanting to indulge in them? Celebrity gossip is just a more fun version of the palace gossip he’d grown up hearing as a boy; reality TV is like watching a play, but with much more fights, less deaths, and more faulty romances; and sloppy meatball subs are like a feast for a man of his time!

Besides, he’s a king: Kings shouldn’t have to feel embarrassment over what the common folk might think.

And yet . . . It took some time, but eventually Ahkmenrah did experience it: Guilt in his pleasures.

He couldn’t even recall where it had all started. Maybe he was searching for more content to swallow after the most recent season of his new favorite show had ended? Whatever the case, he wound up biting off more than he could chew when he stumbled upon . . . fanfiction.

The adorable yet sad thing is that he didn’t even think anything of it at first. It wasn’t until he brought up a ship he’d invested his last few nights awake exploring on the computer: Nobody knew what the crap he was talking about, so of course he felt the need to explain it. But the more he talked, the more perplexed his friends looked. And the more he could feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Oh, he thought. Is this . . . embarrassment? Is that what this feels like? Oh, this is just foul.

Thankfully, nobody pressured him to keep talking about it, but the poor king sure as heck didn’t feel much of a desire to talk any further about it. But he needed to talk to somebody about his newly acquired “feels” as those online were calling them.

Joining fanfiction-oriented sites was the next obvious step, of course, but he’s experienced mixed feelings about it: On one hand, it’s nice to talk with people who share similar views and excitement about a fictional couple. But on the other, the digital wars that have broken out both disturb him and bring out the worst in him.

Like, of course there are bigger things to deal with than whether or not So-So is better off with Him-Ham, but if you truly think that Blah-Blah and Himhaw are a healthy relationship, then you can go do a service and bury yourself in the desert sands to provide substance to the hungry beetles with your flesh --

Suffice to say, a lot of the guilt in this pleasure seems to come from the fact that Ahk can get a little too emotionally invested if the work is really good. He tries to limit his interactions to commenting and praising certain works, and encouraging content creators. However, he’s also contemplated contributing his own pieces of fiction to the fandom . . .

[quicksilversquared]

Move to Safety: Chapter 3 (of 6)

After Adrien just happens to spy Nooroo in his father’s office, he’s sent into an panic. His father is Hawkmoth, which means that Adrien is in serious danger.

Thankfully the Dupain-Chengs are more than willing to step up to the plate and lend a helping hand.

links in the reblog

Adrien was truly beating himself up when, for the second akuma battle in a row, he choked up on his words before he could tell Ladybug about his father.

"It's not like I'm scared of Ladybug," Adrien complained to Plagg as he headed to the Dupain-Cheng house to hang out with Marinette. "Because I'm not! And my father deserves to be arrested, I'm not trying to protect him. But..."

"It's okay to be nervous about change," Plagg said, uncharacteristically serious. "Which I think might be your problem. Even if you don't like the status quo-"

"-the unknown can be scary," Marinette told Adrien five minutes later, after Adrien had expressed the same concerns to her. Her reassurances echoed Plagg's almost word-for-word, which was funny but also, admittedly, pretty reassuring. "Even if you know that all of us will be there for you."

"I just feel bad about allowing the akuma attacks to continue when we could be ending them," Adrien admitted, fussing with a corner of the pillow before catching himself and smoothing it back out. Not that he thought that anyone would care, really- after all, the two of them were hanging out in his room and if the bed was less than perfect, it didn't matter- but even though he trusted Marinette (and clearly Plagg trusted her too, if the number of times he spotted the two of them talking was any indication), he didn't want to seem like an anxious wreck in front of her.

He was one of the city's two main superheroes. He couldn't let himself be an anxious wreck.

"They've been pretty slow this week," Marinette commented, shuffling a little to get more comfortable on the bed. "Because your father is busy, right? I mean, we've only had two this week, and neither of them were a particularly long fight."

"Yeah, it's the usual summer line launch. It keeps him busy this last week and next." Adrien flashed a smile at her. "Helpful, really, since we have exams."

Marinette nodded in agreement.

"He'll probably not have time to do any more akumatizations before he leaves, at this rate," Adrien commented, glancing at the calendar. "So I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about the attacks. But I still do. And if there aren't attacks, then I don't know how I'll reach Ladybug- she's going to be just as busy as we are, studying for exams."

"You could talk to Ladybug at the mural dedication this weekend," Marinette pointed out, and grinned when Adrien whipped around to stare at her in surprise. He had forgotten about that, honestly, what with everything else going on. "Best friends with the Ladyblogger, remember? She's been talking my ear off about it."

"You are an actual lifesaver. I would have forgotten about that, what with everything else that's been going on." Adrien let out a breath, trying to settle the nerves that had sprung up with the idea of having a set date for telling Ladybug. It made everything more real. "I'll tell her then."

Marinette scooted closer to him, reaching out and taking one of his hands in hers. "We'll be here for you, you know that. And you'll be staying with us this weekend, too."

"Right." Adrien smiled over at her, so thankful that he had Marinette and her family right now. He would be a mess without them and their unquestioning support. "Thank goodness."

She smiled back, then glanced down at the bed for a moment. Adrien followed her gaze, wondering if he had messed up the sheets somehow- how, he had no idea, but maybe the older fabric had torn and he hadn't noticed?- when she spoke up again.

"Is it too warm for the blanket down here already?"

Adrien blinked at the sudden change of subject before answering. "Oh. Yeah, a bit, so I took it off the bed."

"I usually keep all of mine still on my bed in a big nest, but I suppose that's a personal preference," Marinette said with a giggle. "I have a ton of blankets and pillows now and just drape myself over all of them. Which you've probably seen before when you leave in the morning."

Adrien had tried not to look at the still-sleeping Marinette when he left in the mornings via her trapdoor, actually, because it just seemed intrusive, but the whole idea of a blanket nest sounded really nice. If Adrien tried it at the mansion, though, things would have tumbled off the edge of his bed. It would happen here, too, actually, because the bed wasn't up against a wall. "I'd normally keep the blanket, but, well..." He shot a sheepish look in her direction. "It's just...I could tell that the blanket had been in the closet for a while, if that makes sense? It wasn't an awful smell, just... a lot."

Marinette's expression lit up in understanding. "Ah! Okay, I know what you're talking about. We have cedar balls in the closet to make sure that we don't get bugs in our linens. It's a nice scent, in my opinion, but I can see where it would get overwhelming."

Adrien nodded. "That's a good description. And since it's warm enough, I just put it back in the closet so that the sheets wouldn't pick up the scent. Well, more than they already have."

"We can wash them!" Marinette said at once, hopping up. "And the blanket too, if you want, but it'll have to be a separate load."

"Mm. I think I'll pass. I'm not going to freeze." Adrien slid off the bed, helping Marinette pull the sheets off. Once they had gotten everything, he took the larger half of the pile of linens from her- there was no point in Marinette trying to struggle down the stairs when she couldn't see, after all- and followed her down to the laundry room. "You're gonna have to tell me what to do here, I've never done laundry before."

"And we don't want you to flood the laundry room," Marinette finished, grinning at Adrien's alarmed look. "It's not that likely, stop looking so scared. You just have to make sure that you don't put in way too much soap. See, all you really need is just a little bit."

Adrien pouted at her, trying not to smile as he did. "You just said that to freak me out!"

The smile that Marinette was clearly trying to hide told Adrien that that had totally been her intention. He pouted at her some more, then scooted over to her side to watch as Marinette showed him how to adjust the settings, explaining each one as they went. It wasn't overly simplified- Marinette knew that while he was unfamiliar with the machines and with paying attention to washing labels on clothing, he wasn't dumb and he picked up on stuff fast- or too detailed as to be confusing, and soon enough Adrien felt confident that he could probably put laundry through without ruining stuff.

Probably. Marinette had promised to help him with his first few loads of laundry once he was no longer at the mansion just in case, because his designer clothes might have some different washing instructions and he didn't want to destroy things right away.

"That blanket didn't fit your bed very well anyway," Marinette said as they got the load started and water started pouring into the machine. She hopped up on top of the dryer, settling down. "I was thinking of making a quilt for your birthday, and I'll try to get it done earlier than that, so you can have it on your bed- unless you have a blanket at the mansion that you want instead!" Marinette added immediately, her words all of a sudden rushing together. "I don't want to assume, I don't know if you have any blankets that you're attached to, or-"

"I would love a quilt," Adrien said at once, unable to help the way his voice went all breathy at the idea. He loved all of the gifts that Marinette had made for him- and yes, that included his favorite scarf, which he had discovered was a Marinette gift after he overheard a conversation between her and Alya- and a quilt?

He had had a moment of wondering why Marinette would think that he had an attachment to any of his blankets at home when she first asked- why anyone would have an attachment to a blanket- but with as soon as he thought about what Marinette had said about a quilt and- well, he could already he can see how an attachment could form. If Marinette did make him a quilt, he would probably keep it forever. Even if he ended up with a larger bed later on, one that the quilt didn't fit on... well, Adrien would either try to keep it on the bed regardless, or he would keep it on a couch to curl up with on cool evenings.

All of the blankets that he had at the mansion were typical department store ones (or mail-order catalogue ones, he really didn't know- but either way, they were plain and had no meaning to them) that either Nathalie or the interior designer had picked out to go with the rest of his room. They weren't anything special, even if he had had them for a while.

Marinette was smiling, clearly relieved that she hadn't somehow overstepped. "Oh, good. Do you want to look at patterns? I've been bookmarking some things and if it's not a surprise, then you might as well have some input."

"Oh, sure!"

Adrien followed Marinette back upstairs eagerly, a bounce in his steps. He had seen quilts before, of course, and they were so pretty. And so much work, too, so Adrien kind of couldn't believe that Marinette had been planning on taking so much time just for a birthday gift for him.

Not that jackets and bags and dresses- all things that she had made for her friends before- were exactly quick things to make! But quilts...

There were lots of little pieces, for one. The cutting and sewing together probably took forever, even for someone as talented as Marinette. And then there was the actual quilting part.

While his current bed was a full size- larger than a twin, not quite as large as a queen or king- well, that was a still a lot of fabric to cover.

While the sheets went through the wash and then the dryer, the two of them looked over Marinette's folder of quilt patterns. There were a lot of ideas, and it was pretty overwhelming at first, seeing all of the patterns, but, well...

There were some patterns that just called to Adrien more, and they narrowed it down to three of his favorites. By the time the sheets came out of the dryer and it was time to wrestle them back onto the bed, he had managed to select a favorite.

He was really looking forward to the quilt now.

"Want to come along with me to the fabric store and help pick out fabrics?" Marinette asked once the sheets were back on the bed and she had written up a list of how much fabric she needed. "Quilting fabric is so much fun to pick through. All of the patterns to choose from... all of the colors..."

Adrien grinned at her. Marinette had clearly already entered what he had previously dubbed the Fabric Haze. She had a sewing project in mind, and now she was entirely focused on it. "Shouldn't we be studying? I mean, I know we have most of the weekend for that, but with the mural dedication that I have to go to, that'll take some study time, and if you have fabric, uh..."

Marinette puffed up at him. "Are you saying that I'll get distracted? I can behave with fabric in the house! I wouldn't start to sew until after exams are over."

"Mm-hmm." Adrien snickered some more, then calmed down. "How about we save the fabric errand for after the dedication? I know it's a bit more time then not spent studying, but it might be nice to have something to look forward to for after I tell Ladybug about...you know."

"That makes sense." Marinette glanced longingly towards her computer, where their chosen design was pulled up on-screen. She startled and looked away right away when Adrien snickered again. "So, uh, studying?"

"Studying," Adrien agreed, following Marinette to her desk. In all honesty, they probably should have started sooner instead of spending so much time on the quilt, but he wasn't going to complain. Not at all.

Not when Marinette was doing her best to make him feel at home.

  The mural dedication on Saturday morning was boring, to say the least.

It hadn't always felt like a snoozefest to do these sorts of things, Chat Noir reflected as he stood next to Ladybug, both of them standing a little bit behind and off to the side of the mayor as he talked. When their statues went up- well, that had been cool. But the two of them kept getting invited to dedications (some superhero-themed, others not) and now, several years into their superhero careers, the formalities had become stuffy. Journalists were welcomed, the two of them got name-dropped, there were thank-yous to sponsors and builders or artists or whoever was involved, and then some background on the project and why it was done and-

Well, Chat Noir was usually well and truly tuned out by that point.

He felt a little bad about that, sometimes. In cases like this, where it was obvious than an artist had worked super-hard at bringing their vision to life, it probably would have been nice to listen to how the superheroes had apparently deeply inspired them and the thought process behind the symbolism in the painting. But he was even more distracted than usual today, and so the symbolism that the painter had used in the painting was going straight over his head, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.

And then after the speeches, there was mingling.

"I told the mayor that we couldn't linger long," Ladybug murmured in Chat Noir's ear as the crowd in front of them started to shift, signaling an end to the speeches that he had somehow missed. "That we have other obligations today, so we can only talk for a few minutes before we leave."

"Yay exams." Chat Noir glanced around, wincing when he spotted reporters pushing through the crowd to get to them quickly. Presumably the mayor had made a comment about the superheroes not being available for long, or else they wouldn't be in such a hurry to reach the two of them. Their presence was going to make it hard for him to tell Ladybug about his father, and he had promised himself that he was going to do it today.

"Ladybug! Chat Noir! A couple minutes of your time?"

"A couple minutes is all we have to spare, unfortunately," Ladybug said smoothly, turning to them. "But we can answer a couple questions before we go."

Madam Chamack dove in first. "We're glad that the two of you could make it, but are we ever going to see the other members of your team at any of these events? This dedication in particular, it seems, it might have been prudent..."

"We appreciate that our part-time teammates both past and present are being honored in the mural, but they only come out for emergencies," Ladybug told the cameras. "It doesn't seem like a great idea to have so many Miraculous out and in one area unless it's strictly necessary."

"It would be too risky," Chat Noir agreed, glad to be playing backup. Ladybug had honestly become better than he had at answering questions without hesitation, and so he let her take the lead. "But yes, it's nice seeing more than just the core two of us being represented. We couldn't do it without our entire expanded team waiting in the wings to lend a helping hand."

Even once Hawkmoth was gone, it would be too risky, in his opinion. There would always be people out there who wanted to steal the Miraculous and use the powers for their own gain, and if there were more targets out... well, then that would just make things easier. And if he thought it was dangerous, then Ladybug would definitely never consider having unnecessary Miraculous out. She was even more cautious than he was.

"There's been a decrease in akumas over the past couple weeks- thoughts on that?"

"Presumably Hawkmoth has a life outside of supervillainry, since that wouldn't pay the bills," Ladybug offered, flashing a small smile at them. She got some chuckles at that. "He may be busy. There have always been times when things slow down or speed up, and it's probably not worth reading into short-term trends too much."

Chat Noir nodded, though he didn't add anything to that.

"Instead, we should be thankful for the slower period- I know I am!- and focus on making sure that we're kind to others and not getting needlessly upset over small things," Ladybug added. It had become a fairly standard plea for them over the years, though how much it actually helped, it was hard to say. Some people, like most of his classmates, certainly tried to be kind and not overreact, but others, like Chloe and her mom and the Mayor...

Well, they certainly caused more than their fair share of akumas, that was for sure. There was usually one Bourgeois-caused akuma per week, which, considering that there were three of them and hundreds- or thousands, rather- of other people in Hawkmoth's favored portion of Paris, was ridiculous.

(Or, to borrow Chloe's favorite phrase- ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!)

Ladybug fielded a couple more questions, then gently started to extract them from the press. All of a sudden, Chat Noir started panicking.

He couldn't let this opportunity slip by without talking to Ladybug, not again. But once they left, they would go their opposite ways right away and he wouldn't be able to tell her anything.

"Ladybug, I have to talk to you before we leave," Chat Noir murmured, ducking his head to talk directly in her ear as Ladybug smiled at the reporters for a photo. "Do- do you have a couple minutes to spare for me?"

"Of course," Ladybug murmured right away, glancing up at him. "Is there something in particular...?"

Chat Noir swallowed. It was now or- well, not never, but maybe his only chance for the day, and he would definitely beat himself up over it if he backed out now. "I know who Hawkmoth is. He's-"

Ladybug's eyes snapped to him, then slid over his shoulder towards the still-lingering reporters as she pressed a finger to his lips briefly. "Tell me more once we get up on the rooftops? We can go over a couple blocks so that they don't see us."

That was smart. He had gotten so focused on not chickening out on telling her that he had completely blanked out on being cautious. If any of the civilians nearby overheard them so much as mention that they knew who Hawkmoth was, it would be front-page news by tomorrow, never mind the fact that giving Hawkmoth a heads-up would make the superheroes' job more difficult. And if any reporters heard...

There would be news articles posted online only minutes later.

Chat Noir nodded, waiting for Ladybug to finish answering a final couple questions before following her to the rooftops. He had to give her credit- even though she had to be shocked by the news that he knew who Hawkmoth was, she still managed to flash the reporters her usual smile and wave as they left. Once they had reached a series of rooftops several roads over, Ladybug landed and caught his hand to steady him as he landed. "So you were saying...?"

Chat Noir nodded, taking a deep breath. He had to reach deep inside himself and remember his acting lessons, focusing on not looking affected. "Hawkmoth. His- his son saw him talking to his kwami and, uh, told me. It's Gabriel Agreste."

Ladybug exhaled, long and low. "Ah."

"And Mayura- it has to be his assistant, Nathalie," Chat Noir added. "So. Uh." He fidgeted. "...I don't know where to go from here."

"Well, I think- hmm." Ladybug nibbled on her lip, clearly thoughtful. "It's not great timing, with exams coming up this week, but obviously we don't want to get called away during exams..."

She was handing him the perfect opening, honestly. "He's going to be out of the country this week, actually. Er. Apparently. According to his son."

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. "Actually out of the country or his hologram going out of the country?"

Chat Noir couldn't help but laugh. Everyone had heard about that scandal, apparently. "Actually out of the country. He got so much bad press from that that he wouldn't be able to risk it. Besides, people he meets are going out of their way to shake hands with him to make sure it's actually him."

That got a laugh out of her. "I'm sure he's thrilled about that."

"Oh, no doubt." His father had been steamed by the hologram's failure, and in such a public setting, too. And then for his business associates to be subtly reminding him of the scandal every time they met...

It really was pretty funny.

"So we can wait until after exams," Ladybug decided. "Maybe- if he's traveling, maybe we can get the drop on him when he returns? I mean, he's bound to be jet-lagged, right? And it seems like he wouldn't be expecting it."

"And his assistant takes a vacation after he gets back from his trip," Chat Noir said, remembering that important little detail all of a sudden. Nathalie didn't often take vacations, but she worked so hard on the summer launch and there was always so much company business to deal with at the same time that once everything was done, she took several days off and went out of town to visit family. "Which means no Mayura on hand to provide backup."

Ladybug lit up. "That's perfect! We can deal with one supervillain at a time. Attack Hawkmoth when he won't have Mayura nearby to transform and help, and then maybe Portal and get Mayura before the news can get to her? Then it'll be an ambush attack on both of their parts. We would just need to know where she's going to be."

"Are we going to pull in some of the others?" Chat Noir wanted to know, filing a mental note of ask Nathalie exactly where she's going for later. "If we're attacking when he isn't expecting us, maybe we won't need backup, but just in case..."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," Ladybug agreed. "Keep them back and out of sight, but with clear instructions and a signal for if we need them to help- it's just a question of who we want."

Chat Noir nodded. "Cobra, maybe? I know he's not come out for a while, but the re-do could be good."

Ladybug worried her lip. "I would, but he's gone to university out of the city. That's a good idea to have the Snake out, though. Maybe one of us could use it. Uh- Seabiscuit? If we need help, he'd get people there fast. And Hornet, for restraint."

"If we could get Seabiscuit to open a portal directly behind Mr. Agreste and have Hornet dive through, the fight could be over before it's even started," Chat Noir pointed out. "It would just be a matter of keeping Mr. Agreste sufficiently distracted."

Ladybug lit up. "I know! We could have Vixen make a Mirage of the two of us out there, battling the akuma. He'll be focused on that, and won't be expecting any sort of attack in his lair."

"And if we Portal in from the wrong direction, we can just reset and try again," Chat Noir agreed. "That is- I'd almost call that deceptively complex, honestly. There's a decent handful of moving parts, but with any luck, it should be over pretty fast."

"We'll have to give everyone their Miraculous before Mr. Agreste gets back, because any delay after the akuma shows up will be suspicious," Ladybug said, frowning in thought. "Not ideal- can you find out when, exactly, he's going to return and when Nathalie will be leaving? We can get the Miraculous out before then, with instructions on what we want people to do and where we're going to meet up on the day of the battle. That way, we won't have to spend as much time explaining everything while the akuma is out and about."

"Yeah." Chat Noir let out a long breath, trying not to let the nerves show. It all felt more real now that they had a plan, and it- it wasn't a bad thing, really. Soon he would be able to go directly to the Dupain-Cheng house and stay there, no sneaking around required.

And he was looking forward to it. No matter what the nerves in his stomach were saying otherwise.

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 12

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

12 - Need You Now ...

Jay clenched his jaw as he took the man’s hand. He wanted nothing more than to sock him square in the face--a thought that was becoming a pattern--and tell him to get the hell out. But, that was a sure way to get himself thrown out, and he refused to let Hailey wake up alone in this horrible situation. So, he bit his tongue and played nice. “You too, sir. Wish it was under better circumstances.” Jay said, forcing a smile. It was true, he did wish that they had met under better circumstances, for two reasons. One being that her dad wasn’t a sadistic asswhole and two being that he wished he was in a position to beat the shit out of him. 

Eldon nodded, agreeing with the young man standing in front of him, none-the wiser of his bubbling hatred. He wrapped an arm around his wife and thankfully didn’t notice Jay’s not so subtle flinch. 

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, Jay had once again sat down in the seat adjacent to Hailey’s bed while Anne and Eldon pulled chairs up next to her. Jay’s knee bounced nervously, he was wondering how long it took to buy a sandwich and where Trudy was. He wanted to leave and remove himself from the terrible silence, but the thought of Hailey waking up to face her father without him was as appealing as drinking battery acid. Instead, he sent a quick text to Adam, hoping he would come and share his wit and charm with the group.

Jay: Hailey’s parents are here…

Less than five seconds later, he replied.

Ruzey Ruzek: Are you serious?

Jay: Deadass

Jay: I’m gonna kill him if you don’t come stop me

Ruzey Ruzek: Don’t do that…

Ruzey Ruzek: A hospital is a terrible place to kill someone

Ruzey Ruzek: If you are going to murder him, put a little more effort in. For me?

Jay rolled his eyes, he was thankful for his best friend who was obviously trying to distract him. He also took notice of the fact that yet again, Adam had changed his contact information to something stupid. 

Jay: I hate you

Adam Ruzek: No you don’t

Adam Ruzek: You love me

Jay: Whatever

Adam Ruzek: Love you too bestie ;)

Jay: Stop being a little shit pls

Jay: This is not good

Adam Ruzek: I know

Adam Ruzek: Let me talk to Kim and then I’ll come down there

Jay: Thanks

Adam Ruzek: Ofc

Jay let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relaxing into his chair a bit more. At least with Adam here he wouldn’t have to bear the hostility alone. 

“So. Jay, tell me about yourself.” Eldon said, turning to face him. “Anne made it sound like you and Hailey are very close.” 

Jay leaned forward in his chair, deciding that a faked conversation was better than deafening silence. Plus, he couldn’t risk Hailey’s dad thinking he knew anything, he didn’t want to put her or her mom in harms way. “We are, she’s my best friend.” He said honestly, with a soft smile.

“I hope you have only pure intentions with my daughter…” Eldon threatened, a eyebrow cocked.

Jay fought off the urge to scoff, “The purest.” 

Eldon nodded, feigning relief. “Good.” Jay was convinced he was only speaking to keep up appearances. “You play any sports son?” 

“Baseball.” Jay said courtly, his own father wouldn’t own up to him being his son, he didn’t need anyone calling him that, let alone an abusive arse. 

“Hailey’soldest brother went to college on a baseball scholarship!” Anne said, piping in. Jay gave her a big smile, happy to transfer the conversation to her. 

“Really? Where?” Jay asked, genuinely interested.

Anne beamed,“Indiana State.” 

“Wow, you must be proud.” Jay said.

“We are.” Eldon cut in, a little too harsh for Jay’s liking. 

Just like that the almost friendly conversation was over and the silence returned, Jay was about to text Adam to ask him where he was when Trudy came bounding into the room holding a pizza box. Her jaw dropped and Jay stood immediately. Her eyes met his and then focused back on the couple in front of her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

…

Kevin sat in the locker room with Matt Casey and Connor Rhodes after their saturday morning practice. He hated that he couldn’t be with his friends at the hospital, but football season stopped for no man and he was counting on impressing college scouts a year early.

“You coming to the party tonight?” Connor askes. Kevin shakes his head and Connor rolls his eyes. “Of course you aren’t, you haven’t been to any in months. Matt?”

Matt shakes his head as well. “Can’t, I have a date with Sylvie.” 

Before Connor can respond, Kevin claps his teammate and friend on the back. “Man, you’ve been crushing on her for like a year now.” He teases and Matt smiles big. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Matt says, “I’m really excited, really nervous and really worried that I’m going to screw this up.” 

Kevin is taken aback by the blondes sudden outburst of transparency, Matt wasn’t usually one for sharing his feelings. Anxiety must be his truth serum. “Where are you taking her?” 

“Molly’s, you know it? I think it’s perfect, not too fancy but enough to make a good impression. Plus, the owner works with Wallace.” Matt explained and Kevin knew exactly what place Matt was talking about. He had gone there for Kim’s birthday last year with the rest of their friends. 

Kevin picked up his bag and waved goodbye to Connor who was heading out. “Sounds perfect man, she’ll love it.”

“Thanks.” Matt said, he grabbed his bag and followed Kevin out of the locker room. “I heard about Kim and Hailey, how are they doing?”

Kevin sighed, “Last I heard, Hailey hadn’t woken up yet and Kim was doing good, no hearing loss like they had expected.”

“Damn, that’s great about Kim, but Hailey’s not out of the woods yet?” Matt asked.

Kevin shrugged, “Not that I know of.” There was a hint of sadness to his voice unrelated to his friends current state. The balance in the group was off and Kevin was taking the brunt of it. When Erin was alive, there were six of them. He always had someone to pair off with whether it was Adam, Kim or Hailey. Now there were five and as happy as he was for his friends, it was hard being the fifth wheel. 

He and Kim had been friends for years, that’s how he was brought into the group, it just happened that he knew Adam and Jay and clicked with them well. He was a little jealous if he was being honest, not only did he not always have the time to be totally  invested like the rest of them, but any time he did he felt like he was being held at an arms length. Kevin wanted to have a person, like Hailey was to Jay (anyone who wasn’t blind could see it, and even then they probably knew) or Kim was to Adam. He had been interested in Nadia at first, but her obvious feelings for Jay caused his to fade fast. Besides it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, Erin got rid of her at the first sign of weakness. 

Kevin bid goodbye to Matt and made his way to his old jeep, still wrapped up in his own thoughts. He felt guilty placing blame on a dead girl, but he couldn’t help but think that all of this was Erin’s fault. He wasn’t usually the one to displace emotion, he grew up in a household where they were almost too out in the open. However, his hatred for Erin--or the dramatics that surrounded her for that matter--was increasing by the day. He had no idea how she got herself in the situation she was in and he sure a hell didn’t understand how she dragged the rest or them and their families into it.

When he got home he found Vinessa playing in the family room and his mom in the kitchen. He said hello to his mother and told her about practice before sitting down to play with Vinessa. She had a barbie in her hand, and Kevin knew for a fact that she didn’t have any barbies. Taking a closer look over her shoulder, Kevin realized that it was no normal doll. It looked exactly like Erin.

…

Jay dropped his gaze to his phone and shot Adam a quick text.

Jay: Abort abort

Jay: Trudy is here

Eldon slowly stands and gives his sister-in-law a fake smile. “Checking on my only daughter, since you were so forth coming on her condition when you called.”

Trudy set the pizza down on the small table near the door and took a step toward him. “You are not welcome here. You need to leave.” 

Jay looked back and forth between them, trying to decipher where this was going. “What are you going to do Trudy? Call security? I haven’t done anything…”

“Like hell…” Jay said under his breath, Eldon’s head whipped around and Jay realized that his thought that slipped had not been as quiet as he hoped. 

Eldon was seething, Jay was convinced that he had literal steam coming out of his ears. “What did you say?” He took a step towards Jay and Anne reached out to grab his arm.

“Eldon--”

He ripped his arm from her grip, “Don’t touch me.” Anne backed away, much to Jay and Trudy’s approval. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

Jay took a moment to consider her next move, he had already gotten himself into to some deep shit so he might as well go full send. “You have no right to smack around your wife or your daughter.” The last part came out more spat than in sentence form and Eldon clenched his fists.

The way he saw it, he had two choices: lay the kid in front of him out and high tail it out of there, or, play dumb and make him look like a idiot. He went with the latter. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

Jay scoffed, glancing at Anne who becoming one with the wall. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, there was no doubt that he had put the woman in danger due to his anger getting the best of him. “Sure, of course you don’t. You don’t anything about the injury that damaged Hailey’s body so bad that she needed a pacemaker?” He was almost yelling and a look of shock crossed Eldon’s face. He guessed that he thought no one knew. 

“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.” Eldon grumbled, turning to face his wife.

Jay stood his ground, determined to have the last word. “Leave.” 

Eldon shot him a glare like he had never seen before and stormed out of the room. Jay let out a sigh of relief along with Trudy, who had jumped out of the doorway to make room for the brooding man. Anne began to gather her things, grabbing her purse and pressing a chaste kiss to her daughters forehead. Jay had forgotten Hailey was still there in the midst of all the craziness. Anne reached the threshold before Trudy spoke up. “You don’t have to leave with him.” Anne gave her a teary shrug and disappeared down the hallway. 

Trudy collapsed into one of the chairs they had abandoned so quickly. “I’m sorry.” Jay said softly, his guilt eating him up.

Trudy rann her hands down her face, “You didn’t do anything wrong Jay, you did what you thought was best.” Jay shrugged, her approval doing very little to calm the pit in his stomach. “But Hailey can never know they were here.” 

Jay nods, “Yeah okay.” He took a seat next to Trudy, placing his hand over Hailey’s. He wished he could erase the past few hours, and he wished Hailey’s beautiful blue eyes would open do the pressure on his chest would lift. He was ready for the nightmare of waiting to be over. 

Hailey felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks when she woke up, she opened her eyes and quickly shut them, groaning at the bright lights. 

Jay shot forward in his seat, “Hailey?” He gripped her hand a little harder and pulled his chair closer to the bed. 

She forced herself to open her eyes again, squinting. She recognized his voice and smiled softly. “Hey.” She croaked out, her throat dry from being asleep for so long. Hailey looked around the room and slightly nudged her head towards the pitcher of water beside her bed. Jay got the message and jumped up, getting her a glass. She gulped it down quickly, feeling a bit more like herself. Trudy announced that she was going to find a doctor, giving the two of them the room. 

“You scared me.” Jay said honestly, he had grown another set of balls since that morning. “How are you feeling?”

Hailey attempted to shrug, but it came out more of an awkward shake. “Okay, I guess.” 

Jay nodded, taking the next few moments to remind her what happened and explain their story. Thankfully Hailey remembered everything, right up to hearing his voice before she passed out. 

“How long was I out?” Hailey asked.

Jay sighed,“Since you got here last night, I’ll let the doctor explain everything.” 

“Everything?” Hailey asked, panicking a bit. She didn’t know the extent of her injuries and she had been in this position once before. It wasn’t fun. 

“Hey, hey.” Jay said, brushing a piece of tangled blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.” 

Hailey nodded, blinking back tears and deciding to change the subject. “How long have you been here?”

Jay grinned sheepishly, “Six this morning…” 

Hailey gasped, “When did you leave last night?”

“One.” Hailey was about to chew him out, but he beat her to it. “I know exactly what you are going to say and don’t you dare. I wanted to be here, I couldn’t have been anywhere else. I was going crazy at home when I was there.” 

Hailey blushed at his words, she hated that she was reacting to him this way because of their obvious situation, but she couldn't help it. The thought of him sitting in her hospital room for hours on end made her heart swell, as twisted as it was. 

“Let’s see what’s on TV…” Jay coughed, clicking the button on the remote. 

Hailey nodded, glancing past him. “Is that pizza?” 

Jay laughed and got up to get the box. He knew she probably wasn’t supposed to eat, but after his confession he would give her any distraction she wanted. 

Hailey turned her head to face the TV that was currently playing the local news. It was a press conference, the man speaking looked familiar and he was wearing a crisp uniform that she recognized. She had seen her uncle in it before. She read the heading on the bottom of the screen. 

Benjamin Severide - Office of Fire Investigation

Fire that potentially claimed the life of local teen Erin Lindsay has officially been ruled an arson.

Hailey’s eyes widened at the name. Severide. That was all the confirmation that Hailey needed, she knew she was right. Kelly’s dad worked in the very department that was controlling the investigation, if he was a part of it, they could make it go away. “Jay, look.” Jay glanced at the screen and by the look on his face, Hailey knew they were thinking the same thing. Someway, somehow, Kelly Severide was at the middle of all of it, and Hailey was going to find out exactly how.

[in-class-daydreams]

Youth Coach!Bokuto x Youth Coach!Reader

Hey Anon, so sorry for getting to this so late, but I finally had the time to do this request! Hopefully this is kinda close to what you were expecting!

- Kiwi 

~~

Being a sports med college student is definitely not the easiest thing in the world 

Why? Well...because college is a thing. College = broke bitch

 No tengo dinero :( 

So you figured, “hey getting a part time job won’t be the worst thing in the world”  You’d be able to make some extra cash

¡logramos este pan!

There’s a youth center close to campus that’s hiring so you figured why not because

You love kids (most of the time)

You have decent volleyball experience to be able to coach since you did play for a while

Few weeks later you heard back from them and you got the job! 

Your boss asks if you can come in a couple days before your first day so you can get used to the place and get an idea of how things work

So you get there and you see a VERY familiar floof of white hair sticking out from around the corner

You had to do a double take for a second 

Bo.

Bo?

BO?!?!?

He turns around and then he has to do a double take before he recognizes you

“Y/N?!?!?!”

“KOUTAROU?!?!?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here????!”

(excessive hooting ensues)

But when you finish he’s like

“I work here as a volleyball coach...oh hold up, are you the new girls’ coach?”

“Yup!”

He was so happy when he found out y’all were working the same shift

Alrighty so backtrack, you guys know each other because you played on the Fukurodani Girls’ Volleyball team 

Since first year, you managed to befriend this hyper-energetic kid 

You saw this crackhead all 3 years of your high school life which meant that your life was guaranteed to never have a dull moment upon meeting him 

And you definitely didn’t have a crush on him what? who? (Y/N)? idk her ahaha

But seriously he's prime boyfriend material ur just a weenie who had fOUR YEARS to shoot your shot but u didn’t boo thumbs down

But tbh he ADORES you

You’re his precious (but scary when necessary) bean and will fight anybody to protect you

You honestly don’t know what you did that made him decide to become captain of Protect Y/N Squad but he is

Aaaand that stayed true even in college. He was so excited when he found out y’all were attending the same university 

But since college is a big meanie, you guys haven’t been able to spend as much time with each other >:((

Needless to say, when Bokuto found out you worked the same shift as him, he was so freakin happy

Literally jumping off the walls 

He was just really happy to spend more time with you

Before your shifts start, you guys arrive early so you can just chill in the lounge 

Actually, more like you’re getting school work done and uh, Bokuto is uhm, well...being him

But it’s not his fault!!

Bo is not a school person

That’s just not his specialty

But he is so so smart in other ways and you will s c r a p with anyone who says otherwise

Anyways

It wasn’t uncommon for a co-worker to walk in and see you getting some schoolwork done, and Bokuto, well, being him

Exhibit A : you’re working on an assignment that’s due later this week, but since you have some time now, you decided to get some of it done until -- 

“Hey (Y/N) if I punch myself and it hurts, does that mean I’m strong, or I’m weak?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

“I’ve been trying to! My arm just really hurts, and I still don’t know the answer!”

*Pouty Bo has entered the chat*

Or Exhibit B: For once you’re not doing homework. Bokuto actually brought you some smoothies he bought on his way to work, so y’all are just sipping on smoothies until -- 

“Hey (Y/N), ya ever notice how cold water tastes sharp, but warm water tastes smooth? Like isn’t that whack?”

＿φ(￣ー￣ )

All jokes aside, he’s really good with kids

His group of 9-10 year olds - The Owlets - absolutely LOVE him (but who wouldn’t?)

Honestly you were kinda surprised at how well he gets along with the kids but not really 

Let's be honest he’s the same mental age as them

He’s just as childish as them 

Whenever a volleyball from your side of the room rolls over to his, he takes it upon himself to send it back by spiking it towards you

Luckily, you’re able to receive it, and it doesn’t cause much trouble

Other times he’ll just openly sling his arm over your shoulder, and put all his weight on it but uh

he has this thing called... M U S C L E 

AND THERE’S SO MUCH

I mean have you seen those back muscles? Literally a blessing from the high heavens themselves

He’s always been toned and had muscle since high school BUT OH MY GOD he got SO BUFF in college and geez those are h e a v y 

But your eyes are being blessed everyday so can you really complain? 

The answer is no you can’t complain

But you will complain because you’ve had a crush on this mf since high school and yanno that wack feeling when you have unresolved feelings for someone and you feel weird when you look at them?

Like you kinda have feelings but you’re not sure?

Or you’re wondering if your feelings are feeling feelings or they’re just old, stale feelings coming back to harass you?

Mhmm that’s you

And uh you’re not really vibin with it 

So the fact that he’s gotten even buffer is not helping your case

AND

He’s always been a sweetie but since college he’s been taking WOMEN’S STUDIES COURSES

You asked him about it and he said he wanted to make sure he was socially aware so he can “use his male privilege to help women make their voices heard”

Is he even real??

He’s drinking his respecc wahman juice ™ everyday, twice a day

Luckily, for the next few weeks, everything goes super smoothly

Your group of kids - The Penguins - are very driven in trying to improve themselves

And kids who want to get better at something they’re passionate about is absolutely ADORABLE

So while you guys are cleaning the gym up Bokuto asks you if you could come to his game on Saturday 

And bring the kids ofc because it’d be a good learning experience 

Obviously you agree cause you’re not missing out on watching him play volleyball

So it’s finally the long awaited Sunday, and you get there kinda early just so you have more time to make sure all the kiddos get there to the meeting spot safely

And in case you run into a certain volleyball player before the game starts

Turns out, Lady Luck was on your side today 

You’re walking down the hallway when you spot a certain owl-haired man 

“Koutarou!”

He whips around so fast and his face lights up upon seeing you call out his name

He sprints speed walks over to you 

“(Y/N)! I thought you’re supposed to meet up with the kiddos?”

“Yeah, but I got here early so I ended up walking around for a bit,” 

In his eyes, you’re so adorable right now

You face is kinda flushed with a light pink spread across your cheeks, and your hair just flows around you and he’s just so in awe 

His trance was broken when you checked the time and realized you should be heading to the meeting spot soon

“Ah, I should probably head over to the meeting spot. Good luck, Koutarou! I’ll be cheering you on with the kids!”

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to it!”

So you guys go your separate ways, and make it to the meeting spot 5 minutes in advance. All the kids show up on time, and the parents saying thank you for watching their kid, etc. 

You bring them to the front row of the cheering section, but a little off to the left so the kids don’t get caught up in whatever the cheering section happens to be doing 

The game starts and the kids are in absolute awe over Coach Bokuto and tbh so are you

Now, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him play, but goddamn every time you do it’s so mesmerizing 

He does a complete 180 whenever he plays

Completely focused, and all his movements are precise

 and the back muscles oh the high heavens are really testing you today 

You can’t help but notice how the energy from the crowd makes him so excited

At some point you could’ve sworn that he was scanning the cheering the section trying to find you 

He totally was, and he spots you and the kiddos and it makes him so happy 

His captain had to snap Bokuto back into the game since he got distracted, and that made you laugh a lil 

The rest of the game progresses smoothly

Really smoothly actually. The team had a comfortable lead and they were match point from winning their second set, so they were doing juuuuust fine 

Throughout the game, you point on things that should be brought to attention, and the kids kept asking question, which you were more than happy to answer

The match ends with victory for Tokyo U with a solid 3-1 win, and you escort the kids back to the meeting spot where their parents are supposed to pick them up

What you didn’t expect was for Bokuto to be there too 

The kids sprint over and flock him, showering him with compliments about his performance during the game

The parents arrive, and one of the parents asked if they could get a group picture with everybody, and soon all the parents were getting their phones out

Ya know the thing where one parent asks to take a picture and now you have a gallery of parents and like 60% of them take like 2 mins just to take one picture?

Yeah, that 

All the parents ended up with a whole bunch of cute pics, and the kids were on their ways home

Since Bokuto was still in his uniform, you walk with him back to the locker rooms, and just as you were about to turn the corner, he suddenly slings his arm over your shoulder, and puts all of his body weight onto your back. You’re really trying hard to shimmy out from under him, but he’s SO FREAKING HEAVY

(It’s the muscles, they are d e n s e)

Ofc he notices this and whines about it

“(Y/N)! Why’re you trying to escape?? I’m so sore, please let me use you as a human crutch for like 2 minutes!”

“Ew, no, Koutarou. You’re still sweaty and smelly, get off of meeee”

You somehow manage to drag your poor body to the locker room doors with this man child dragging behind 

“I’ll wait out here Kou--”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bokuto turned you around and wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you into a warm hug 

“Thanks for coming to the game, (Y/N)”

Your brain is not comprehending ANyTHing is boy is saying

Your high school crush is hugging you like it's some shoujo manga like eXCUse mE? 

And sis you’re not missing this opportunity, so you wrap your arms around his torso, and you can feel him tense up a little underneath your hands

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you’re able to formulate thoughts before you speak (cause otherwise you’re pretty sure you would’ve stuttered like a blubbering mess)

“Of course. Anytime, Koutarou”

“I’m gonna go clean up. Do you mind waiting for me?”

“Not at all. Take your time.”

“Ok, thanks. I’ll be out soon.”

Just as he pulled away from the hug, he leans down to kiss your cheek before reaching out for the door handle

Hold up

He

Kissed

You

On

The

Cheek 

AND HE’S TRYNA RUN AWAY FROM WHAT HE DID

NAH UH

Before you convince yourself what you’re about to do might change the whole dynamic of your guys relationship, you grab a whole muscley arm, and pull him down a little, and you return a kiss on his left cheek 

Oh shit

Oh shit

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh dear god

WE HAVE BUNGLED THIS MISSION

In order to save yourself from any further potential embarrassment, you let go of his arm, and skedaddle (skidoodle ur dicc is now a noodle) 

over to the lobby 

This poor boy

One (1) whole confused owl 

You kissed  him back…

YOU KISSED HIM BACK

Kinda. It was on the cheek, not like a kiss in reciprocity

*YOU KISSED HIM ALSO

He realized he’s standing there like an idiot so he hurries into the locker room and showers because even he recognizes that he stank

Mansweat

But he’s literally thinking about that cheek kiss the entire time he’s freshening up 

And so were you

You’re sitting on a bench in the lobby trying to think of how to talk to him without making it awkward

But the fact that your heart spazzing out in your chest, and your stomach is doing backflips certainly doesn’t help

But hey...you kissed your crush (go you!)

Time passes a lot quicker when you’re thinking about smooching Bokuto because he’s walking towards you with this bag slung over his shoulder 

You get up from the bench sweating anxiety bullets and start heading over to him 

“Hey Kou, about earlier I--”

Before you could finish your sentence, Bokuto who is also sweating anxiety bullets but at least he’s smelling nicer quickly interrupted you 

“(Y/N) I’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO KISS YOU I JUST THINK YOU’RE SUPER CUTE!”

He’s yelling cause (duh it’s Bo) he can’t help it, but like you also get caught up in it so: 

“OH IT’S OK DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, IT’S COOL..!”

“JUST BECAUSE I LIKE YOU DOESN’T MEAN WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS...ALL CASUAL AND SHIT”

“aHAHAHA CASUAL YEAH YEAH THAT’S RIGHT, WE’RE TOTALLY BUDS ”

“I MEAN JUST FRIENDS IS CHILL, THAT’S COOL I RESPECT THAT, BUT I’D LIKE IT IF YOU WENT OUT WITH ME”

“GOOD CAUSE I WANNA GO OUT WITH YOU!”

Rip to everyone’s eardrums

Meanwhile…

Akaashi: “I suddenly feel super embarrassed… but I don’t know why.”

Back to the main show: 

“COOL ARE YOU FREE THIS SATURDAY?”

“YEAH”

“cOOL”

“COOL”

*aggressive hand shake*

Passersby are very confused 

But oh my god this poor boy

His hands are shaking, and he has armpit sweat galore

But it’s ok you’re just the same as him

Less pitsweat, but still stressed

Poor Bo was so out of it that when heard his phone go off he jumped a lil bit 

Luckily it was a text from you

From: (Y/N) [8:26 pm]

“You’ll ace this date! <3”

Cut to Bokuto, having the meltdown of the century

[apr1cots]

sadboy sirius pt 2

They didn't speak for three weeks.

That was the longest any of them had gone without speaking to one another since they had become friends, which made everything feel soberingly serious. No pun intended.

One time Sirius and James had gotten into a hotheaded argument about about who had the “most swoon-worthy hair,” and they hadn't spoken for ten days. After Peter and Remus locked them in a room together until they finally admitted that their hair was “equally swoon-worthy and just attracted different sorts of girls,” they sat side by side for 20 hours straight, just talking. They insisted that they be fully updated on all happenings they had missed, spending an indulgent 2 hours catching up on each day they hadn’t spoken. (Despite the fact that they had been in all the same classes and at all the same meals, just in silence.)

The three weeks that Remus and Sirius didn't speak were accompanied by a miserable Peter who hated conflict and a partially stressed, partially aggravated, and very confused James who just wanted to fix everything, even though no one would tell him what was wrong. The only thing James knew was that Sirius was more hurt than he let on and that he was only fronting as haughty and angry.

Remus was much harder to figure out.

He didn't speak to Sirius, but he wasn’t  indignant or obvious like his counterpart was. Instead, he was removed and vacant, but not upset. He acted like nothing was wrong, but he didn't act like everything was alright either.

James was going crazy.

To top it off, as sixth years and as Marauders, it was their official duty to throw the epic Halloween bash they had been hyping up since last November, but that was difficult with the jagged division slicing their group up.

James spent every free moment running back and forth between his best friends getting their input and advice on how to coordinate this and that and assigning everyone their tasks. He was pretty close to having a heart attack to say the least.

The afternoon of October 30th, Sirius appeared in the common room, looking only a little bit like death and still carrying the chill of the tunnels to the village with him. He had a massive case of firewhiskey in his arms and a large bag full of chocolate frogs, licorice wands, and who knew what else on his shoulder. His eyes were darker and more daring than ever and he lacked the usual mischievous smirk that accompanied all Hogsmeade raids.

“Sirius?” James questioned immediately, “what’s all this? I thought we were going to the Village tonight?” he whined when Sirius was close enough to speak to privately.

Sirius just shrugged and continued towards their dormitory to stash the goods.

“Sirius? I was going to go with you. Not to mention, you’re just carrying that shit around where anyone could see it. How did you get it all during daylight hours and what in Merlin’s name would you have done if you'd run into a Professor in the castle?”

Sirius managed another nonchalant shrug despite his heavy load. “I had time this afternoon. And actually, I paid for the goods this time.”

James could do nothing but sputter in shock for a moment. “Padfoot! You’re underage for one and people there KNOW you. They know you’re supposed to be in school!”

“I threw a disillusionment charm over myself and then the alcohol once I was in the castle, Prongs. It’s fine.”

“Sirius!” James hissed in shock. “That’s illegal and you didn't have backup and we would've been perfectly safe tonight.”

Sirius’ mask of apathy neglected to change again. He dumped his bag and the crate on the floor by his bed and turned to face James briefly just to say, “Honestly James, I don’t give a fuck,” before collapsing on his bed and closing the curtains with a brief wave of his wand.

***

Halloween came on as Sunday as blustery as ever. The wind made the widows whine in displeasure and the rain relentlessly pelted the castle and the grounds. During an unusually late lunch, the ceiling of the great hall rumbled forebodingly. James was halfway through a rather large pumpkin pastie when he realized that Sirius wasn’t eating.

He looked even more miserable than usual, which was particularly odd, because Sirius loved Halloween. He considered it the precursor to his birthday, which he had grown to love since attending Hogwarts. Sirius always went a little over the top for Halloween, dressing obnoxiously in an attempt to win the (not so) little costume competition the Marauders had every year, trying to outdo his friends. He also usually drank too much and spent the whole night loving on everyone and everything in his most happy-go-lucky, tipsy form.

Now, Sirius sat on the bench next to his best friend with dark circles under his unfocused eyes and his chin resting on his palm. James had to nudge him three times before he reacted.

“Mate, you gonna eat?”

“‘M not hungry.” He grumbled almost indistinguishably. He hesitated for a moment, and James caught him glancing at Remus sitting across from them, but before he could say anything, Sirius had risen to his feet and started to detangle himself from the bench to leave.

“Sirius?”

“I’ll see you later.”

James didn’t know what to say, and by the time he had his bearings, Sirius had stalked off. James clamped his jaw, turning back to Remus who hadn’t looked up from the ancient, probably forbidden, book he was reading. “Remus, I don’t know what went on, but whatever it is needs to be resolved. I can’t stand this.”

Remus looked up and met James’ eyes with a very measured expression. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

Peter groaned from Remus’ side and made a face at James. “Let’s go discuss possible party pranks. This lunch has officially been ruined.” Remus and James followed him without any further discussion of their missing piece.

Sirius left the castle without hesitation, barely even pausing to wrap his robes more tightly around himself when the barrage of rain hit his face. He trudged down to the Pitch, which was abandoned due to the weather and the holiday. He quickly retrieved his broom, a practice bludger, and his bat, before yanking on his gloves. He quickly spelled the bludger to play him one on one, a spell that he’d discovered a couple of years previous during a period of major rage that James insisted he work out somehow.

He didn’t really register anything that happened after that. He spent what could've been minutes or days flying as quickly as possible around the pitch, practicing transitioning from full speed to a hover with a series of screeching halts. He almost fell off his broom too many times to count, sliding down the slippery wood in a manner that would've made any spectator’s heart stop.

At one point, his bat missed the bludger by a hair and it slammed hard and fast into his shoulder. Sirius went flying off his broom, catching it with his left hand at the very last second. He hung there panting for a moment, before the bludger took the opportunity to whip around and come back towards him. Sirius let out a string of curses, realizing simultaneously that he had left his wand sitting on the bench in the locker room (because he hadn't wanted to break it flying) and that he was moments away from losing his grip and falling to his probable death.

He summoned all of the magic that he could and threw up his hand in the direction of the rapidly approaching bludger, successfully freezing it in midair before it dropped straight to the ground. He had disabled the spell he had cast earlier.

Using the last of his physical and magical strength, Sirius managed to boost himself back on his broom. His left hand and his shoulder were in excruciating pain, but he gritted his teeth, taking one more prideful lap around the pitch before his feet hit the absolutely soggy grass. Mud splattered up his legs as he carried his broom and his traitorous bludger back to the locker room.

He cast a quick tempus, and let out a particularly sour curse as he realized he was late to his own Halloween party. As he headed back towards the castle he briefly thought about how he’d have Remus cast a couple spells on his bleeding hand and aching shoulder, since the werewolf was by far the best at healing spells. Then he remembered that Remus fucking hated him now. Stellar.

Sirius took four deep breaths as he contemplated the fat lady, trying to prepare himself for the scene he knew he was about to face. Finally, he said the password with a sigh, forcing his mask of nonchalance to encompass him once more as he stepped into the common room that was currently too much to take in. Music that he hadn't heard from the hallway due to a particularly strong muffliato, practically shook the walls.There were so many bodies that Sirius barely recognized his own living space. People danced and shouted to each other and sent spells and sparks flying in attempts to enhance their costumes.

Sirius stood immobile for less than a minute before James found him.

“Where in MERLIN have you been?” James heckled, already drunk.

Sirius just shook his head, grabbed the drink straight out of James’ hand and ignored the intense kick to his throat as he drained it in one gulp.

Remus didn’t see Sirius until he was incredibly far gone. He was raunchily dancing around the common room with a mostly empty bottle of firewhiskey held loosely in his right hand. His left arm hung limply at his side, and Remus could tell there was something wrong with it, but there was nothing he could say.

Everyone was talking to Sirius and trying to dance with him and get him to take another shot or do some explosive spell, but Remus could tell that Sirius was out of control. His eyes were blurred, his words slurred, and he was grinning like a maniac. Remus took a step back from the still amped up crowd to stand against the wall to breathe for just a moment. He wasn't totally sober, but he also had a supernatural tolerance for alcohol, so he was able to think much more clearly than his peers, and he knew no-one would notice him watching Sirius. For just a moment, he promised himself (again).

Sirius notoriously hooked up with people at parties, but he usually did it consciously, and that was certainly something he was not at the moment. Remus realized with an edge of alarm that a seventh year Rvaenclaw girl had started to corner Sirius. He was being pushed up against a wall and all too quickly, her lips were on his. No one noticed. Sirius hands remained at his sides, as the girl began to touch him all over, her hands running all over his torso and into his robes. When she pulled away from his lips to attack his neck, Remus saw that Sirius’ eyes were still open, and Remus could see the note of panic in them from across the room.

And no one was doing anything.

Remus continued watching with a sick knot in his stomach. Torn between his pride and his fear of actually speaking to Sirius again, and the panicking protective pull at his heart, he felt frozen in his spot.

Then, the girl started tugging Sirius by the wrist towards the common room exit, while he stumbled behind her. As soon as they were out of sight, Remus moved without even thinking about it. He darted through the crowd after them, barely breathing.

As soon as he left the sweaty, loud common room and entered the drafty, echoey hallway he heard the girl. She giggled seductive taunts, not seeming to care that Sirius offered nothing in return.

Remus cut them off.

“Go back to your house, and leave him with me.” The girl scoffed and visibly sized Remus up, but before she could say anything, Remus spoke again. “He’s drunk out of his mind, and is in no state to give consent. He hasn't even said a word to you. Leave him alone.” “That’s- that’s not true!” The girl insisted haughtily. “He kept saying saying something about the Moon or Moony or some shit like that. He’s perfectly capable of talking.”

Remus glared at her with such intensity that she was gone within seconds, and he was left to contemplate the bomb she had just dropped.

Moony.

Remus looked at his friend then, and almost lost all composure.

Sirius had dropped to his knees and tears were streaming down his face.

“Sirius….”

“She… she can have me, I don’t care. Come- come back, girl!” Sirius cried, registering everything minutes late.

Remus had never seen Sirius actually cry. He looked so utterly broken in that moment that Remus could do nothing but drop to his knees in front of his friend to wrap him in a hug. As Remus caged Sirius, head in his solid arms Sirius’ cheek thudded again Remus’ chest, his arms coming up around Remus’ back immediately. His fingers pressed against Remus’ shoulder blades in a steely grip.

Remus brushed Sirius’ wildly unkempt black hair out of his face, tracing the shell of his ear as he did so. “Shhh, Sirius. Hey, what’s wrong” he tried to soothe the crying boy.

“I- I i just” he couldn’t find his words.

“Sirius, I’ve got you it’s okay”

At this Sirius sat back in his heels, pulling out of the embrace, distress emanating from all of his features. “You don’t though, Rem. You decidedly don’t have me. You opted out of that.”

“Sirius… I-“ Remus’ voice filled with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to say. He stared hard at the ground.

“Remus, it’s okay.” At this, Remus looked up in shock. “I know why you don’t want me. It’s okay. I don’t- I don’t deserve someone like you.You should've just let me go off and have sex with that girl. Just like the other times. She-“

“Sirius, what do you mean the other times?”

Sirius’ face crumpled in shame. “None of that sex meant anything. It never has. I don’t… what you said before- it’s true. I do act like… like a slut and I do all of this drunk sex but… but it’s not because- it’s… I”

“Sirius….”

“No Remus, listen. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you feel like our kiss was stupid and meaningless and like that Ravenclaw girl. I didn’t even want to kiss her.”

“I know you didn’t.” “Remus. Our kiss wasn't like that. I wouldn't have kissed you in the tower if I hadn't meant it. If I hadn’t wanted it.”

When Remus didn’t respond, Sirius dropped his head heavily into his palms, his fingers curling to press anxiously into his forehead. Remus’ heart pounded dramatically in his chest until he felt that it would beat all the way into his throat. “Wh- what do you want, Sirius?”

Disheartened, and thoroughly embarrassed, Sirius didn’t look up, but Remus could hear him mutter, “you,” and that was all he really needed to give into the temptation throbbing in the hollow base of his neck. Remus leaned forward and reached out, finding Sirius’ jaw with a slightly shaking hand. At his touch, Sirius dropped his own hands and looked up, making electrifying eye contact with the boy kneeling in front of him. Without so much as a whisper Remus reached out with his other hand, to fully encompass Sirius’ jaw, before leaning forward to kiss him softly and slowly.

Sirius didn't hesitate. One of his hands immediately tangled in the hair at the nape of Remus’ neck, and as he rose to his knees to press his body against the other boy, his other hand wrapped around Remus’ waist, securing their torsos together.

Sirius tasted like alcohol and Remus tasted like chocolate and pot.

They somehow managed to stand up only breaking their kiss momentarily. Remus’ spectacularly long legs really kicked in then, and having to arch his neck and back ever so slightly to reach Remus made Sirius deliriously happy.

Sirius found himself stumbling backwards towards whatever wall was nearest as Remus gently pushed him, without ever pulling away enough for either of them to say anything. After an imperceptible amount of time, they stopped kissing.

Sirius didn't move his hands from the places they had claimed on Remus’ back underneath his shirt, but after a moment of just looking at each other, and before saying anything, they hugged. It was tighter and warmer than any hug Sirius had ever received, and it contradicted everything his mother had ever taught him, and he loved it.

When they pulled away they both spoke at the same time.

“You’ve been smoking pot without me?”

“You’re even smaller than you look, you know.”

Sirius gasped and sucker punched Remus in the arm, but Remus only grinned and shied away from the blow. “It’s been a pretty shitty few weeks and you didn't exactly seem up to sharing a blunt.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Well what about you? You didn't want to share a blunt either.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re wrong, you know.” He shifted his weight forward, supporting himself with one hand on the wall by Sirius’ head. Sirius was quick to tangle his fingers in Remus’ other hand. He arched his back off the wall to kiss Remus again, and Remus indulged him for a moment, before pulling away to rest their forehead together.

“Sirius, can we talk?”

When he didn't let Sirius kiss him again, Sirius sighed and nodded and hurried off down a familiar corridor without a word.

[sherlollydramoine]

Which Malek Twin is Better in Bed: An Experiment Part One

Had this idea that was inspired by a few different asks that I received. This is going to be in either two or three parts. Part One is the set up and Rami’s turn. 

This is completely unedited so I apologize for the millions of mistakes that are probably plaguing this piece. 

Warnings: alcohol use, language, and unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all)

Word Count: 5285

“No, she said that she thought that I’d be the one that was better at cunnilingus,” Sami shot back.

“No she did not. She said it would be me because ‘I’ve got a mouth made to sin’ according to her,” Rami counters with a shrug.

“We’re identical twins asshole we have the same mouth!”

“So, that doesn’t mean that we are both as equally skilled with it,” Rami counters again.

“I’m still better with my hands and dick though. You may have the oral skills but I have other skills that the ladies love. I’ve never had any complaints,” Sami adds, and Rami rolls his eyes.

“Righttttt and who almost got in trouble when I snuck Michelle in back in eleventh grade. She was definitely not being quiet and was not displeased with my performance skills,” Rami says, which elicits an eye roll from Sami this time.

“BOYS!” you holler trying to catch their attention. They’d been arguing the better part of an hour over some girl that they knew and who was better in bed all around. You were fairly certain that whoever this mystery woman was her assessment of the boys was all speculative. You’d known them for years and had never known them to share a woman, then again, you never know they didn’t share all their secrets with you.

They both turn their heads to look in your direction and you shoot them both a look. Picking up your beer off the table and bringing it your mouth you take a long pull from the bottle. Neither one of the boys dared to say a word, until after you had said whatever it was that you had to say. 

“Ya know boys there is really only one way to figure out who is better in bed!”

“You aren’t going to try and call all of our exes are you? I’m no- I’m a little worried that some of the reports wouldn’t be accurate and a few of my exes aren’t exactly happy with me. I used to be kind of a dick,” Rami says suddenly, eyes wide looking mildly horrified, while Sami just lets out a short bark of laughter.

“Serve you right for being a dick bro. I’m sure my exes would have nothing but praise for my exemplary skills in the bedroom.”

“As amusing as that would be to contact all of your exes, there is another way to settle this debate once and for all. You both are going to have to find a woman that would be willing to sleep with both of you, separately of course, and get her feedback,” you suggest.

Rami’s brows nearly shoot into his hairline while Sami just lets out another bark of laughter.

“I’m sure Mr. Hollywood here can have no problem finding available pussy but I don’t like the idea of it being some random person.” Sami casually mentions in between sips of his rum and coke.

“Yeah, honestly, I don’t really like the idea of fucking some random chick that only knows me as ‘that famous guy from the robot show’. I’d rather it be someone we know that can give an unbiased opinion. If we went the route of me picking someone up I might win by default just because she got to fuck some famous guy,” Rami states.

“Ram since when have you ever had an issue finding some random pussy to fuck? Everyone knows you are a total fucking player. Besides Mr. Hollywood, you can walk into any bar or restaurant and the pussy will literally find you,” Sami says. Rami just frowns and flips his brother the bird while you try not to choke on your beer. 

“Boys! Just stop. As highly entertained as I am by this conversation I think you guys are missing the point. There has got to be some woman on this planet that doesn’t know who you are Rami. Someone that would be willing to experiment,” you start to explain. Stopping for a moment to gather your thoughts and take another sip of your beer when an idea strikes you. Neither of the boys have piped up or offered any other alternative solution so you decide to go ahead and voice your idea.

“Rami you work in Hollywood. Hollywood is known for its lascivious nature, so surely you know someone that knows something about high class escorts. Sure, they are expensive but don’t they get paid a small fortune to buy their silence as well as providing you with a warm wet hole to fuck? Make some phone calls and then explain to her what you want to do. If she agrees, no matter the cost you can have her take notes and then compare them after she has had her turn with both of you.”

“NO!” Both boys shouted in unison with horrified expressions on their faces. The sudden raucous of the raised voices caused a few nearby patrons to look your way out of curiosity.

“Damn boys sorry. It was just a thought. This might be a tougher solution than I thought when I suggested it.”

“So back to square one, who would be the perfect person to do this? I just. It’s kind of nerve wracking though because I don’t want to screw up any relationships with any of our friends. Clearly choosing someone from our pool of mutual friends is probably the best option. They wouldn’t tell anyone about this peculiar situation if they wanted to maintain our friendship.” Sami adds.

For the first time in over an hour silence descends on the table while both boys look deep in thought. Suddenly their heads snap up and they look at each other and nod. Before you know what hit you you had four blue-green eyes staring at you.

“What?” you ask nervously, picking up your beer again to take another sip.

“YN! Come on, you’d be the perfect person to do this. You wouldn’t let something like this interfere with our friendship and you would give us your honest feedback. You wouldn’t lie to either one of us just to inflate our egos.” Rami says, looking hopeful.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea boys. I mean. I’m just. Look at me. I-I-I can, can I think about this?”

“I want to say yes you can, but babe I’m leaving after this next weekend and I’ll be gone for a little over a month. This is kind of a time is of the essence thing,” Rami states with a shrug. 

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this,” you mumble, pushing your chair away from the table and heading towards the bar. 

Once you were back at your table you began taking large sips of whatever cocktail that the bartender had whipped up for you, as you contemplated what to do. Three cocktails and a bunch of awkward conversation later you looked up at both of them and croaked out, “I’ll do it!”

Both boys grinned their same beautiful smiles as they high-fived each other and you raised a brow.

“I'm cumming over Saturday!” Sami exclaimed and then giggled. “I mean, I’m coming over Saturday!” he giggled again, and his brother just shot him a look while you shook your head.

“Wow! I didn’t realize you were so eager to get to fuck me Sam!” You laugh as you avert your gaze. You send up a silent prayer that you won’t end up regretting agreeing to do this.

“YN what’s your schedule like this week? The weekend won’t work for me because I’m leaving Sunday night so I’ll have to come over sometime during the week. Sami is all yours Saturday and then Sunday morning we can all meet up and you can compare your notes and finally settle the debate about which Malek twin is better in bed.”

“As it were, I’m in between gigs right now so I’m free the whole week so just let me know what time and day work best for you Rami and we’ll meet up. I think it’s best if you come to mine so that way there are no sabotages or interruptions,” you inform him shooting Sami, a look who is just sitting there with a devilish grin on his face.

After a few more drinks the three of you decide to call it a night and the boys drop you off at home where you couldn't help but feel a little drunkenly excited for the coming week. It had been far too long since you’d had any kind of intimate relations with anyone and you were definitely looking forward to getting dicked twice in one week. Of course the twins didn’t know that you’d had the biggest crush on Rami since you were like seven after he’d beat up the boy that was harassing you on the playground. You chuckle at the memory of Rami getting into trouble for fighting.

Your dreams that night were definitely very vivid and extremely pornorgraphic and now you were headed into the new week with the thoughts of that dream floating around your head. You’d sell your soul to make it happen. The thoughts of both of them kneeling on either side of you on your bed jerking themselves off on you, and covering your breasts, stomach and thighs with their cum was enough to make you start salivating and your panties wet. 

On Tuesday Rami sent you a text asking if you wanted to meet for dinner later, and you’d agreed. The restaurant he told you that you were going to was definitely the type of place that you’d never have been able to afford on your own but Rami reassured you that it was his treat. His turn to wine and dine you. This is it. It was Rami’s night to show you what he could do in the sack, the dinner was just an excuse for the two of you to talk and become a little more relaxed before you got down to business.

You took your time to prepare for the evening. You’d splurged on a manicure, pedicure and a bikini wax. You weren’t sure of Rami’s preferences for body hair but you felt good. Choosing your favorite red dress from the closet and pulling it on, glancing at yourself in the mirror you smile. You looked damn good. Just as you were swiping your lipstick on you heard the doorbell;  sliding your feet into your black pumps that he had gifted you two years ago, you head to the door.

Grabbing your black clutch from the table in your entryway, you swing the door open. Rami was dressed in a nice suit complete with black tie, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers.. You can feel his eyes rake up and down your body and he lets out a low whistle. 

“You look amazing,” he smiles at you, as he hands you the bouquet. You invited him in for a moment after he reassured you the car wasn’t going anywhere, so that you can go put the flowers in a vase. He followed you into the kitchen, the nervousness rolling off of him in waves. At this point you have no idea who was more nervous about the events of this evening. 

“Same could be said for you Malek.”

“Oh this thing. I’ve had it in my closet for ages but haven’t worn it yet,” he rambles nervously.

You get the flowers unwrapped and into the vase full of water and then letting out a soft sigh you turn to him and ask,”Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” was his response. He casually grabs your hand as you make your way back to the door. You turn to lock the door and he puts his hand on your waist as he leads you to the fancy black car that was waiting at the end of your driveway. He opens the door for you and confidently says, “Ladies first.”

You giggle and slide into the car. He follows a few seconds later and then slams the door closed. He looks over at you and takes your left hand into his right one and gives it a soft squeeze. 

“So?” you ask.

“So” he responds with a smile.

“Are you-excited for tonight?”

“YN, honestly, it’s all I’ve thought about since Saturday night. I-I-I hope this doesn’t make things awkward because I’m really good at doing that, but I- I - I’m excited. I know that you haven’t been with anyone in a while and so it’s going to be such a pleasure for me to show you what I can do, but also have some fun,” he says, nervously scratching the back of his head with his left hand. He gives your hand another squeeze but you couldn’t help the smile that was slowly  spreading across your face. 

“Honestly Ram, it’s all I’ve thought about too. I-I-uh- had a dream about this on Saturday night.”

He lets out a nervous chuckle, “I hope I can live up to your dream expectations.”

“I'm more than positive that you will Rami, so don’t be nervous. We can’t both be nervous or we’ll just freak each other out and then this whole thing will have been for nothing.”

You catch his eyes and you both laugh, his hand never leaving yours.

Dinner went by way too quickly as you chatted away happily, ate the best meal you’ve ever had, and imbibed several glasses of champagne that Rami insisted on. He joked that this was a celebration of sorts though you couldn’t figure out exactly what. You just figured the champagne was mostly for the nerves. 

The two of you had previously discussed him staying the night in the event that one or both of you got a little intoxicated at dinner and it didn’t make sense for him to have a car on standby. You also didn’t think it was fair to have the car waiting because neither of you were aware of how long you would otherwise be indisposed. 

In the car on the way back you sat in the middle this time, with your head resting on his shoulder, while his right hand held your left one firmly, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your hand. Neither of you were conversing just content to be in silence mostly due to nerves.  The closer that the car got to pulling up to your house the tension in the air became palpable. Both of you let out a shaky breath as the car came to a stop in front of your place. The butterflies in your stomach had you feeling oddly restless and you were squirming in your seat while Rami’s left leg was bouncing restlessly. Despite all the nerves you were also plagued with arousal. You’d had a crush on him for so long that getting a chance to finally get to find out exactly what he is like in bed is a dream come true for you, though you’d never admit it out loud.

As he had earlier at the restaurant, he got out first this time holding a small overnight bag in one hand, as he held out one hand for you. You take the offered hand and slowly slide out of the car. Once you were fully out of the car he wrapped his right arm around your waist and walked with you to the door. Your trembling hands were a dead giveaway to the jitters you were experiencing, as you reached into your clutch to retrieve your house keys. In your frazzled state you’d accidentally dropped them twice, and Rami just lets out a soft chuckle, bends down to pick up your keys and unlocks the door for you. Stepping through the threshold you let out a breath and unthinkingly kick your shoes off by the door and he follows suit, dropping his bag next to his shoes. Your back turned to him so that you could shut and lock the door, he removes his jacket and haphazardly tosses it over his bag not caring that the expensive fabric will be terribly wrinkled in the morning. Turning back around you catch sight of his beautiful hands working his tie loose and carelessly tossing it on top of his jacket. 

Angling your body towards his reaching up to touch his face and then thinking better of it dropping your hand back to your side you open your mouth and barely manage to squeak out,“Soooo.. How do-” 

Shock barely registering as your words were suddenly cut off by his lips on yours.This is it. The  first kiss ever between the two of you and it was soft and hesitant, nearly awkward as if you were teenagers again; it wasn’t until your hands came up to interlock at the back of his head that he deepened the kiss and you nearly faint in his arms as you moan against his mouth. You blame the champagne for the boldness of both your actions, even though you knew it was going to come to this point eventually. Maybe in this case it was like ripping off a band aid the sooner someone initiated the encounter, the easier it will be to go through with it.

When you finally pulled away from each other both of you were damn near breathless, chests heaving, hair mussed, and pupils blown wide with lust. You both just stand in front of each other for a couple of seconds before instinct took over for both of you and your lips crashed together again. All traces of nerves gone from either of you now as your bodies nearly melted together. You both don’t realize that you’d begun moving, stopping only when your backside came in contact with the back of the couch. 

Your whole body felt as if it had been lit on fire and the ache in your core was becoming increasingly unbearable in such an embarrassingly short amount of time. You could feel his arousal pressing against your stomach and all you wanted at that moment was for him to rip your dress off and fuck you senseless. All of your dreams and fantasies could never compare to the reality of actually being intimate with one of your best friends, the one you’d had a crush on for so long. 

“Bed?” he asks breathily, as he smiles at you, his lips swollen lips and a delicious shade of red. 

You nod in response and without warning you find yourself being lifted into his arms and carried down the hall to the master bedroom. He carries you across the threshold and gently sets you down not hesitating at all as he brings your faces back together reigniting whatever passion had been latent for the few moments that it had taken for him to carry you down the hallway. 

You couldn’t help but to feel like he is savoring every moment of this because nothing about this moment is feeling rushed. Your mouths collide again. The passion behind his kisses feels so sincere that you almost allow yourself to feel like this was meant to be, but only allowing that to be a fleeting thought when you remember he is an actor. An award winning, highly skilled actor. This situation was only happening because you’d drunkenly agreed to settle some debate between him and his brother.

Shivering against his touch as his hands slide their way down your shoulders until his fingers come in contact with the zipper on the back of your dress. Begrudgingly pulling your mouth away from his beautifully swollen mouth, God his lips, you could spend eternity kissing those damn lips. It’s almost as if your body is acting purely on instinct because you never realize the moment that your hands glide up his arms, across his shoulders, and then down his chest. Your fingers trembling and struggling with the buttons of his dress shirt. Huffing a little in frustration wanting nothing more than to rip the damn thing to shreds.

His fingers had finished working the zipper down your back and you couldn’t help but to watch the fabric as it fell into a red pool at your feet. He lets out a quiet gasp as he realizes that you are standing before him completely bare. Releasing another huff as you continue to struggle with the buttons of his shirt,he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Let me,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet of the room as he gently pries yours hands away from his shirt. You watch in fascination as his fingers work  the buttons of his dress shirt open at lightning speed, you couldn’t help but to wonder what else those hands were capable of. Then again, that was that the whole point of this right? For each of the boys to prove to you just how well rounded their bedroom skills are. The second the last button is open, you damn near go feral and roughly push the fabric off his shoulders. The material stops moving as it is caught at his wrists and you couldn’t stop watching as he pulls his arms the rest of the way out of the sleeves. You just tosses the shirt, as it flutters to the ground, landing at your feet and on top of the red material of your dress.

You bring your eyes back up to his and for a second you feel shy, exposed. The dress you’d been wearing didn’t allow for underwear and you didn’t see any point since you knew that this is how the night was going to end anyway. 

You unconsciously begin to cover your chest with your arms when you feel his hands come down and gently remove them.

“Don’t hide from me YN. You are so beautiful, don’t ever hide from me,” he says so lovingly that you almost burst into tears. It had been a long time since anyone had ever called you beautiful. 

You can feel his fingers ghost down your sides leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake when his hands settle on your hips. Rami slowly pulls you towards him as he raises his right hand to  brush away a stray bit of hair away from your face. His eyes search yours for a quick moment before his lips find yours once again. You could kiss him forever, his mouth was made for it.

Lifting your hands from where they’d be resting down at your sides, you put your hands on his hips and give a little tug bringing your bodies as close together as humanly possible without being intimately connected. Without thinking you skim your hand along his hip bone to the front of his crotch and begin to palm him through his dress pants eliciting a deep moan from him that was so sinful you nearly came undone. 

The two of you slowly start dancing your way across the floor of your room towards your bed with lips locked, not stopping until the back of your knees made contact with the edge of your mattress. 

You groan in protest when he pulls his mouth away from yours and you frown slightly.

“Lay down for me,” he quietly instructed and there was absolutely no hesitation in your willingness to comply. You weren’t sure what he was going to do, but you were nearly panting in eager anticipation.

His body slides its way up yours as his mouth starts nipping, kissing, and sucking every inch of skin from your jaw to your navel. Feeling his eyes on your face watching your chest heave as your body writhes against his seeking friction. Your eyes widen in shock as you feel his fingers ghost themselves over your center. 

"Oh my God babe you are completely soaked for me and I’ve barely touched you," he says voice tinged with shock

You can't help the smile that forms as you watch his face disappear between your thighs. Your hips nearly buck off the bed and a noise that you’ve never made before escapes your lips, when you feel his tongue flick your clit, at the same time that he slides a few fingers into your soaking center. His free hand comes up to rest on your hip, in an attempt to keep your hips still. 

“OH GOD” you cry out, and your hands acting on their own accord come down to fist in his curls. You can feel him smirk against you as he hums in delight with the way you’ve been so responsive to his touch in such a short time.

His fingers pump in out of you in time with the movements of your tongue, and you can feel that familiar feeling beginning low in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes screw tightly shut, your body warm and coated with a light sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and you are babbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense. Unbeknownst to you, your grip tightens exponentially in Rami’s hair and despite the pain radiating through his scalp he never relents.

“Don’t stop Rami. Don’t stop,” you whine and plead.

With another flick of his tongue in combination with the ‘come hither’ motion that his fingers, your legs begin trembling and you're whining out his name. Suddenly that warm feeling spreads from your stomach outward and your body begins to convulse, your thighs snap shut around his head and you can’t stop yourself from grinding into his face. You’d never felt anything like this before, but you are content to ride out this wave of pleasure on Rami’s face. 

“Oh God… Oh God.. Oh God…Rami” you moan, repeating it like a mantra.

You can  hear him mumbling something against your core and you can feel his tongue lapping at your juices. After what feels like an eternity the convulsing in your body stops and your thighs and body relax. You feel high. You’ve never had anyone make you feel like this and it makes you wonder if your suppressed feelings for him is the culprit for this.

Propping yourself up on your elbows you can see his chin is glistening with your juices as he smiles down at you. Weakly attempting to sit up to pull him towards you. This moment that you’ve been so nervous for all night however he just uses his hands to push you back down into the mattress, gently yet firmly.

You can hear the jangle of his belt buckle coming undone followed by a soft ‘thunk’ as his belt and pants hit the hardwood floor.

“Oh Rami,” you whisper so quietly that you don’t think he heard you. His eyes snap up and lock with yours seconds before his naked body slides its way up yours. His lips capture yours for a soft, sweet kiss and you can taste yourself on his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck trying to coax him to deepen the kiss. The nerves are back,your heart is thundering in your chest, and you aren’t sure what his next move is going to be. 

Extracting his lips from yours, he asks if you are ready, both of you take a shaky breath as you make eye contact with him and  whisper,”Yes” 

His forehead rests against yours for a moment, as you breathe each other in. He lets out a little  gasp when you bring your legs up and wrap them around his hips, your sensitive center rubbing against him almost playfully. Your body is in desperate need of something now, something to dull the ache your feel, so you reach down to grab a hold of him. He beats you to it by taking himself in hand and after taking another deep breath he slowly guides himself into you.

You let out a breathy moan as the warm sensation of being filled so completely overwhelms your senses. His eyes are screwed tightly shut, and his breath has hitched. Neither of you move for several seconds just simply basking in the pleasure of being so intimately connected for the first time. It’s a feeling that you only get once with someone. 

The moment both of you regain some semblance of control of your breathing his hips begin to move. This was better than any fantasy or dream you’ve ever had. He is in no hurry to finish and you don’t mind, every slow thrust of his hips brings about a new batch of sensations. At some point your fingers had intertwined with his as he kept his hips moving at a slow, but steady pace. 

Both of you were breathing heavily, your bodies glistening with sweat. His eyes catch yours as you breathily moan out his name, and you feel as if you are in heaven. He doesn’t make any attempt to increase the pace he’s set.

“Oh Rami... “ you mumble. His forehead comes down to rest on yours, and you lift your chin to place some small kisses to his lips.

“Baby you feel so good,” he whispers into your lips. The intimacy of this moment causes a whole new set of feelings to bubble their way to the surface and you couldn’t help the small tear that rolls down your cheek. You don’t think he noticed as you rock your hips with his.

As slow as the pace that he’d set is, it still didn’t stop his cock from hitting all of the right place inside of you, and after twenty minutes you can feel it building. You know he can sense it because he starts to slightly alter the rhythm of his hips as they move in time with yours. 

“Fly with me baby.” he whispers in your ear only moments before your second orgasm of the night washes over you. With your sweaty chests heaving, legs trembling again, and your walls clenching around him it does indeed feel as if you were flying, like your soul has left your body and you were now on some transcendental plane of existence. 

You can feel his body tense above yours and his breathing change as he follows you into orgasmic bliss, emptying himself deep within you, as you clench around him. Neither of you say anything but the gentle whispers of each other's names over and over until he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap. You untangle your fingers from his and bring your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. 

In the blissful moments afterwards you realize something and it hits you hard. He is the first man that you’ve ever had sex with that has given you an orgasm. You couldn't help the tears that begin leaking from your eyes on their own accord,

“Oh baby, please tell me that it wasn’t that bad?”he questions, soundly slightly alarmed.

“No-no-no Rami, it’s not that. That was. Oh my God, that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s just that. I’ve never had a sexual partner give me an orgasm before, and you’ve given me two in an hour. I’m sorry”

You both hiss when he pulls himself out of you and rolls his body so that he is situated at your side. He pulls you into his arms and gently strokes your hair.

“I’m honored. I love,” he hesitates for a second before continuing,”being able to give my partner an orgasm.”

“Oh Rami- you are-God you are amazing.”

Neither of you spoke again that night. Only sweet kisses and a lot of cuddling until you both fall into a deep sleep feeling completely sated and happy; a tangle of limbs. 

( P A R T T W O )

@xmxisxforxmaybe @free-rami @ramimedley @r-ahh-mi @diasimar @txmel @stewielover95 @safinsscar @ladyr0b0t @youthtea @ramisgirl512 @mrhoemazzello @hissom1933 @spacedustmazzello @sassystrawberryk @ramimalekpan @breadnbutternips @itslula1991 @warmommy @imnottiredofgettingoveryou @alottanothing @mezzomercury @theultraviolencefan @the-real-ramimalekpeen @hazeleyedbeth @w0lfglrl17 @adoremalek @rawmemalek @lunasasylum @zodiyack @sasha--1996 @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @anotheronebitesthedick  @petites-fantasies 

[chickynn]

“Inosuke learns how to read”

I have no idea what this is supposed to be.

But enjoy.

Hana belongs to @pandabobachan

Rin belongs to me uwu

Hana sat across Inosuke as she teaches him how to read. Rin was beside her, enjoying Inosuke's suffering as he struggles to read a word.

"Alright, Inosuke, what does this say?" Hana smiles, pointing to a word written on the paper.

Inosuke squints at it, "B-bo...boooaa...-" Someone help him.

"It's 'boat', you idiot" Rin konks him on the head. Before anyone could even blink, the table flew across the room. Hana tried to restrain Inosuke from trying to rip Rin's hair out.

"WHO EVEN CARES ABOUT READING! IT'S NOT LIKE I NEED IT FOR DEFEATING DEMONS!!" Inosuke gives up, then proceeds to stomp out of the room. Hana follows after him.

I mean, he's not wrong.

Rin stared at the mess he made. Looks like they're going to get in trouble again.

"W-what happened?" Tanjiro, who had just entered the room with Zenitsu, asked. He then noticed the broken table at the other side of the room, "Oh"

Rin shrugged, "That's not my problem now," she peaced sign, "later!". Then she walked out of the room, Zenitsu following after.

"Rin-chaaaan~" He did one of his weird giggles. But for some reason, Rin find them cute-

"What do you want?" Rin whipped around, glaring at him, trying to hide her obvious blush.

Zenitsu only pouted at her, "Where are you going, Rin-chan?"

Rin's facial expressions soften, "I'm going on a mission...like, really far away from here" she scratched the back of her head, "So I had to take the train for that..."

She started to have Vietnam war flashbacks. She shivered.

Zenitsu whined, "But Rin-chaaan! You're going to be far away from me!"

"Quit your whining, I won't be gone for too long anyways"

Zenitsu was about to comply more, but Rin already went ahead and shyly kisses his cheek, before stumbling away from him.

Tanjiro went out the room to see Zenitsu fainting. He walked over his body, "Zenitsu, wake up! We're going on a mission!"

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

Rin sat on a booth, farther away from everyone else so she wouldn't be disturbed. But then she started to hear Vector's theme song from Despicable Me.

A strange looking man wearing an orange jumpsuit sat in front of her, smirking, "Hey"

Rin ignored him and continued staring out the window.

He got up and tiptoed beside her, "I'm thinking about applying to be a tsuguko of a pillar going by the name 'Vector!'"

She only scooted away.

He continued, "It's a mathematical term represented by an arrow in both direction and magnitude!"

Rin was now already at the far side of the seat.

Vector slid next to her, "VECTOR! that's me! Cus I'm stopping demons with both direction and magnitude! OH YEAAHHH!"

Rin wanted to beat the shit out of him right now, but decided to preserve her energy for the actual battle.

Seeing as she is ignoring him right now, he still continued, "Check out my new weapon..." He then pulled put a gun, "PIRANHA GUN! OH YESSSS"

Rin looked at his weapon, isn't that dangerous? But then again, she remembered that her squad has Inosuke in it.

"It shoots out live piranhas! Ever seen one? NO! I invented this myself, want a demonstration?"

She doesn't even need to answer that because he had already shot it and it accidentally hit a person. He started screaming and immediately ran towards the very front part of the train.

Rin shot up from her seat and was about to run after the person, but the train stopped. Everyone on the train starts panicking.

Rin screeched, "WHAT HAPPENED-?"

"THE CONDUCTOR DIED!" A random stranger screeches back.

Rin fell to her knees, "nOOOOOO- HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO GO TO MY MISSION?!"

Then she turned to glare at Vector, who just slowly hid his gun and pretended like nothing happened. She grabbed him by his collar, ready to throw a punch at him.

"YOUUUUUUUUU!!!"

Vector starts sobbing, "NO WAIT PLEASE!! I HAVE CHILDREN"

"Rin! Please him go! He PROBABLY didn't do anything!" A voice that sounds like Tanjiro said, catching her off guard.

She turned around to see Tanjiro, behind him were Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Hana.

Wait what.

"What are you all doing here?" Rin furrowed her eyebrows. She is beyond confusion now.

"I guess we're all sent to the same mission" Tanjiro chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

That kind of explains it.

"Attention passengers; please remain calm, this isn't the first time that our conductor has died. We'll fix this issue which will take a couple of hours. So in the meantime, listen to this really calm music used in Titanic."

A loud screeching noise was heard from the speakers. Everyone started screaming and covering their ears, begging for it to stop. That totally calmed everyone down.

"Damn, I sure do wonder how they're going to fix this situation" Hana said, munching on her hot cheetos that she has taken out of nowhere.

Rin groaned and went to a different train cart so that she can do something while they're stuck here. Zenitsu follows after her, "My love! Look, I'm here with you right now! Why don't we just enjoy each other's companies- wait what the-"

There was a rave going on in this cart. Rin stared at it in disgust but decided to enter it anyways. It probably has food in and drinks in it, better than Hana's hot cheetos anyway.

Zenitsu followed her in confusion as she starts eating the food on the tables. "Hey, Rin...are we really supposed to be here?"

Rin didn't answer him, only stuffing more food in her mouth. She honestly doesn't know what she's eating, but holy shit these tasted good. Zenitsu only watched her as she drank something from one of the cups that were placed there.

"Hey! You gotta try these!" Rin offered him a drink, but he refused. He's probably still thinking that they weren't supposed to be eating or drinking in here. She shrugged and drank the whole thing by herself in one gulp. She felt a little tipsy after drinking that, but she can still manage.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be here!" Someone yelled, but Rin didn't even care, she just continued refilling her cup, completely unaffected. That is, until Zenitsu grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the place, causing her drink to spill. Once they were out of the place, he noticed that Tanjiro and the others are nowhere to be found.

'Oh God oh please oh no-' Zenitsu starts hsving a mental breakdown internally.

"nOoOOoooOOO, wHy'D yOu do THaaAT-" Rin whined, throwing weak punches at him, none of them affecting him. Zenitsu sighed, pulling her arm over his shoulder to help her walk properly. Rin complained, saying that she can walk properly by herself.

He doubts that.

Zenitsu sets her down on a booth, then started to think of ways to handle this. It wasn't the first time that he is handling his drunk partner. It's just that Tanjiro was there to help him. But now he is nowhere to be found.

He just decided to stay and watch over her to prevent her from doing stupid stuff. Right now, she's trying to get out of his iron grip so that she can go back to that cart. Rin didn't know when he got so strong to hold her down without struggling, but holy shit that just turns her on-

I CANT BRETAGE WTF

Anyways, this wasn't the 'enjoying each other's companies' that Zenitsu pictured earlier. He starts to pray for Tanjiro or the others to come back.

Soon, Rin started calming down and is now dozing off to sleep. "N-nOoo i dOn'T waNnA sLeeP...yet...." lmao too late bitch you're snoring off your fat ass now.

Zenitsu was thankful that she finally fell asleep. Now all he needs to do is keep praying for the others to come back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rin finally woke up from her sleep. She immediately sat up to look at her surroundings. She noticed everyone else sitting on different beds next to hers. They looked like they just came out of a warzone or something.

"Holy shit...what happen to you guys?" Rin asked.

Tanjiro struggled to sit up, "Well...Inosuke-"

"Makes sense"

"B-but I didn't get to finish-"

"Rin-chan! You're awake!!" Zenitsu came in the room and was about to run and hug her, but he realized that he's holding something. So he walked over to her and placed them on her nightstand before hugging her.

"So uh,, what day is it?" Rin asked, trying to free herself from Zenitsu's bone crushing hug.

"One" Inosuke said.

Hana sighed, "What he meant to say is, it's just been a day since the train incident"

Everything suddenly comes back to Rin. That Vector guy. Hana's hot cheetos. That rave party in the cart. Her heads started to hurt just by thinking about it.

Zenitsu noticed how she's holding her head, so he gives her a painkiller that he had brought in earlier.

After drinking the painkiller, she tried processing everything again. Then she realized that she's supposed to be on her mission right now. She then proceeds to wonder where the fuck they are.

"If you're wondering, we're actually in the village for our mission now" Han said. Wow- it's like she read Rin's mind or something.

"Yes, I can read your mind" Hana smiles at her.

"Wait what-"

"Nothing, anyways, let's just stay and rest here for a bit before we yeet out"

"I DON'T WANNA SIT AND WAIT, I WANNA KILL SOME DEMONS NOW!! " Inosuke screamed, jumping out of his bed.

"Inosuke, calm down! Remember your breathing exercises!" Tanjiro panicked and got out of his bed to restrain the angy boi, "Try doing some Yoga too!"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS A YOGA, I DON'T WANT TO DO IT"

"Do the dang Yoga!" Hana intervened.

"I SAID I'M NOT GOING TO-"

Rin rose up from her bed (which made Zenitsu fall because he was sitting on her) and started stomping on Inosuke.

"Uh guys, I'm pretty sure this isn't how yoga went" Tanjiro said.

"STOP! THIS ISN'T CALMING HIM DOWN!" Hana screamed. Zenitsu starts screaming aswell as he tried to pry Rin off Inosuke, but he somehow managed to get into the mess.

Hana looked at Tanjiro, who just laid back down, "Aren't you going to do anything?"

Tanjiro pulled the covers over him, "It doesn't matter, they're not going to listen to me anyways"

He has a point. With that, the two of them went back to sleep as if nothing is currently happening.

Meanwhile, Inosuke managed to run away from Rin and Zenitsu. Rin ran to chase after him, screaming, screeching and yelling can be heard from outside the room. Zenitsu tried to follow after but he realizes that there was also no point in that, so he just went to bed too lmao

Inosuke and Rin ran to the front desk, the lady in charge starts screaming, thinking Inosuke was a monster because of his mask. He hisses at her and proceeds to climb on the walls, away from the place.

What did Hana see in this creature.

Rin starts running after him outside the inn they were staying. Inosuke stood there, completely frozen and staring at something. “Come on, pig head, let’s go back in-” She was cut off short when she saw what was in front of them.

A demon. A huge one. A bunch of letters that can be formed into words looked like they were tattooed into his skin. The letters are also moving and shifting, forming new words. Rin wonders what his demon art is. But anyways, she wasted no time in grabbing her blade, preparing to swing at him. 

Inosuke went behind to inspect something from the back of him. Rin swing her blade to the demon’s neck, but he dodged, kicking her side. She slams to the wall, the impact made her vision a bit blurry. She looked over at Inosuke, who was still looking behind the demon’s back. 

“MWUAHAAHHAHAHAH!! THAT THING WON’T WORK ON ME!! THE ONLY WAY TO DEFEAT ME IS IF YOU SAY A MAGIC WORD”

“Please die” Rin groaned, laying down somehow comfortably on the broken debris of the wall. 

“NICE TRY! BUT THAT’S NOT IT, THE WORD IS MERELY IMPOSSIBLE TO THINK OF!!” The demon does a jojo pose, continuing, “ONLY PEOPLE WITH MASSIVE IQ CAN BE ABLE TO THINK OF THE WORD”

“Hey this spells boat!” Inosuke happily says, pointing to a word behind his back. He is proud of himself for remembering what had Hana thought him. Everything fell silent for-

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY WEAKNESS”

“wait what” 

Then he explodes. Bits and pieces of body parts of the demon came flying everywhere, those whose mouths were open were blessed with demon limbs. 

“I have so many questions right now, but I’m gonna sleep” Rin grumbles, closing her eyes to peacefully rest around the splattered insides of the demon. Until she heard a bunch of footsteps running over her. 

“OH MY GOSH RIN IS DEAD” A voice laced with worry said, who Rin assumed was Hana. She still didn’t budge, to exhausted to even open her eyes. Another voice that sounded like Zenitsu’s spoke, “MOVE!! I KNOW HOW TO DO CPR!!”

Rin’s eyes shot back up sitting up instantly, “nO WAIT- MMPH!!”

Ah too late. Zenitsu had already performed his so-called ‘cpr’ which is literally just kissing her. He pulls away after, inspecting Rin’s now wide awaken face. “HEY IT WORKED- OW!!”

Rin repeatedly smacks him on the head, a furious blush plastered on her face. Meanwhile, Hana runs up to Inosuke with the most worried look on her face, “What happened?!”

Inosuke smirks under his mask, sticking up his nose in the air in pride, “The great Lord Inosuke has defeated the demon!!” Then he victoriously laughs. Hana giggles, hugging him tightly as she nuzzles her face against his chest. 

“Wow...you’re so strong hehehe”

Inosuke scoffs, “Of course I am! Who do you think I am?!”

“My strong Inosuke~”

“YES!! PRAISE ME MORE!” Inosuke cackles more, picking her up and spinning them together. A matching blush adorning both of their cheeks. Tanjiro felt single now. 

“Hey uh...sorry to interrupt but how exactly did you defeat it?” Tanjiro nervously intervenes, thinking it was rude to interrupt them. Inosuke didn’t seem to mind that much though.

“That’s easy! I just simply have big IQ!” Inosuke snickers, pointing at himself pridefully. Everyone else doubts that. Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Hana looked at him in confusion, then they looked at Rin. She shrugs, “I don’t know guys, I had a concussion earlier and started seeing....things”

She shivers, after having another Vietnam flashback for a split second. Everyone else decided to just ask her later after her headache have subsided. They headed back to the inn, not even bothering to clean up the demon limbs or the broken wall.

[disembodiedapparition]

Masterpiece

"Hello, everyone," Gerard Way began, his shifty hazel eyes darting through the crowd with nervousness, searching for a familiar face in the ocean of the inquisitive audience. "I'm here today to inaugurate this majestic gallery, which, admittedly, consists of a few of my own works" — a laugh reverberated like a ripple through the audience — "but also beautiful pieces from tons of other talented artists, like Kurt Cobain, Ray Toro, Bert McCracken..." he mindlessly listed off.

He had been coerced into "opening" for the gallery, the organizers clearly not caring about his tendency to stutter, or his crippling anxiety — "You're popular," they had reasoned. "Everyone will love you anyway."

So here he was, having around sixty simultaneous panic attacks, cheesily introducing their display of swirls and colors as the crowd scrutinized and judged his every move. As you can tell, Gerard was having the time of his life.

As he rambled on about the hard work and effort and time that everyone had put into the gallery — it's not like anyone really cared; it had become a mere formality at this point — his eyes stealthily raked over the crowd, scanning the variety of expressions on people's faces; boredom, interest, restlessness, a couple of eager relatives who were hoping their kin would be mentioned — you know, the average. Everyone at art galleries were just naturally boring, he reasoned. It was sort of a given that anyone who actually wanted to spend a good three hours just walking around and staring at brush strokes was.

His eyes suddenly landed on a young scruffy man standing apart from the crowd in total contrast; unlike the formally dressed men and women, who were clad in suits and dresses, he was wearing worn ripped jeans, muddy brown converse that had been defaced with black sharpie, and a tattered black hoodie — and Gerard wondered what someone like him was doing at some sort of fancy art convention like this.

He concluded his monotonous speech (which had surprisingly only gone on for ten minutes; really, it had felt like ages) and stepped down from the podium, as the crowd applauded, actually seeming like they'd enjoyed his half-hearted monologue; further confirmed by one of the managers patting him on the back and telling him that he'd done a great job. Gerard, however, was not focusing on the meaningless validation he was being showered with; instead choosing to occupy his thoughts with that of the young man who'd been staring at one of his comic book displays in the little corner in the back of the room.

Yeah, Gerard did comics too, and today was one of those rare events in which the managers had allowed him to put them up for display (after literally hours of persuasion, but whatever). They were in the back corner, where they wouldn't ruin the whole "abstract art" vibe they had going on, but still there, and that made him very happy — despite the fact that barely anyone ever spared a glance for the tiny superhero-themed stand in the dark shadows of the room.

He pushed his way through the chaotic swarms of art critics and interviewers, all flocking to congratulate one of the alternative scene's most popular artists — he wished he was liked solely for his artwork, but everyone knew his soft hazel eyes and fluffy black hair had a little to do with it as well; although he couldn't understand what was really attractive about him, as such. All he really did before leaving the house was brush his long fingers through his loose hair, pull on an Iron Maiden shirt or something, and yank on a (probably unwashed) pair of unfashionably faded denims — yet everyone claimed that he was an artist, he was only expressing himself.

He was making a statement.

Really, the press overanalyzed the hell out of everything he did — he could blink, and the press would conjure something up about how he closed his eyes to avoid the harsh reality of the dying earth, but opened them again to show bravery, or some bullshit like that.

Gerard finally got through the ocean of scrambling reporters and fans when one of his equally well-known peers caught the media's eyes, and they all rushed over to the latter; Gerard shot him a look of pity before wrapping his suit tighter around his chest, furtively scrambling to get near the enigmatic stranger. Which was quite funny, considering it was usually the other way round — with fans and paparazzi rushing for a photo with him, or an autograph, or a quote they could slap on the cover of their magazine.

"Hey, dude," he awkwardly started, causing the stranger to lightly choke on his coffee and whip around, his eyes settling in relief and mild irritation at the sight of the harmless looking artist who'd been on stage merely minutes ago.

"Oh my god, man, you scared me," he laughed, breathing deeply. His voice sounded playful, and his eyes were a cocoa brown, with tinges of eyeliner coating his thick lashes — Gerard immediately liked him.

"Sorry!" Gerard replied with a giggle, before pausing, rocking back and forth on his toes. "So, um, how do you feel about these..." he gesticulated erratically at the graphic novels lain open on the plastic table.

"The comics?" the tattooed man asked, scratching the back of his neck. "Dude, they were rad! I totally need to find this, uh—" he stole a glance at the cover of one of the issues. "Gerard Way guy."

Which totally made Gerard smile; he never really got any feedback on his books, apart from semi-interested kids, who'd been dragged along by their parents, flipping through the pages. An actual person who thought his comics were half-decent would be an angel in his eyes, to tell the truth — yeah, he was that thirsty for validation.

"Here he is," he laughed, as the guest's eyes widened and a light blush erupted on his freckled cheeks.

"Oh damn — that sounded stupid."

Gerard immediately shook the suggestion off, a wide grin overtaking his features.

"No really — it's fine. I'm so glad you like them, usually no one really bothers with this little stand in the first place." The stranger hummed, smiling at the illustrations on one of the pages.

"I usually don't bother with art galleries in general," the man admitted. "I mean, they're mostly filled with pretentious people trying to sell some blue blob in the midst of black smudged paint under the pretext of "deep thoughts", and a bunch of gullible, mainstream, rich people too focused on staying with everyone else that they can't understand that they're literally paying thousands for shit their kindergartener could do."

And Gerard couldn't help but choke as he realized that that was actually a perfect description of more than a few of the "abstract" paintings hung up in this place.

The man took a breath, looking at the snorting black haired man in front of him with a grin.

"Never seen comics at one though. I'll have to check out more of these places."

"Dude, are you not seeing how my managers attempted to completely hide the very existence of these things at a place as respectable as this?" Gerard chuckled. "Literally — they're actually so embarrassed that I insisted on keeping them here, a bunch of lowly comic books at their high and mighty art gallery — they probably wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the fact that I'm kind of the only reason half these people showed up."

Gerard realized his last few words sounded mildly egoistic, relieved when he noted that his new companion didn't seem to mind much, in contrast actually nodding along with him.

"Yeah, I bet at least half the girls are here because of you," he winked, causing Gerard's lips to round into a surprised O, shaking his head before a throaty laugh escaped his throat.

"Wha- no! They're not — they don't—"

The stranger burst out into peals of laughter at Gerard's flustered state, as Gerard slowly realized he didn't even know the dude's name.

"What's your name anyway?" he questioned, a grin tugging on his lips.

"Frank," he replied, while Gerard just laughed again at the contrast — the guy had such a childlike personality, yet he was called one of the most serious names in history, Frank — honestly, he was beginning to think someone had spiked one of the drinks he'd had tonight. Since when did he laugh so much?

Maybe it's because you're not hanging out with some boring wannabe Da Vinci for once, his subconscious told him, and Gerard proceeded to ignore that suggestion, and stick with his spiked drink theory.