#i always enjoy seeing people's music taste and finding common ground between us (often in the strangest of places)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 I

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You attend king Loki’s coronation but the night ends precariously.

Note: I don’t know what I’m doing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“Come on!” Gilla latched onto your arm as she wove through the streets. The bodies around you were so many it was hard to move one way or the other. “Can’t see anything from here.”

“Gil,” you grumbled, “You’ve already dragged me to the square, where are you taking me now?”

“Don’t you realise,” she called to you, “This is history! We are going to see history!”

“It matters little to me. Tomorrow I will be sat in the shop just as I was before you disturbed me.” 

You stumbled as she lunged between two bodies and barely kept hold of you. Your clogs nearly slipped off your feet as she veered around the base of one of the ancient pillars at the edge of the square. She stopped and looked up the etched stone and grinned.

“Tell me you’re not--”

“You remember when we were children? We used to see who could climb furthest.” She chimed. “We’ve just got to get high enough to reach that branch.”

Gilla pointed at the thick-trunked oak which had stood nearly as long as the pillars. The Founder’s Tree bore as many carvings as the pillars, an artifact of the city’s residents. You shook your head.

“We are not children anymore,” you insisted.

“Only if we act so,” she trilled, “You’ve come this far. I know you’re not going to abandon me now.”

You sighed and put your hands on your hips. You were glad for the workman’s pants your uncle let you wear in the shop and the sweaty tunic belted at your waist. Gilla wore the embroidered skirts that many of the merchants’ daughters loved but you never bothered as they were often stained with clay or soot by the end of the day.

“If someone sees us…” you warned.

“No one’s looking at us!” She hooked her fingers into a deep crack and hoisted herself up and wrapped her legs around the pillar. Her skirts bunched precariously above her knees as she began to shimmy up. “Or did you really want to stare at the back of everyone’s heads?”

You rolled your eyes as you watched her a little longer before following her. Gilla was thin, she always had been, and was little bothered by the way her skirts rumpled around her waist. You grunted as you heaved yourself up. The higher you got, the more you realised how dangerous it was. You hadn’t the wherewithal as children to think of it.

Gilla unhooked one lang and hung off the side of the pillar as she reached out to the branch. Suddenly you wanted to slide back down. You only pictured her lunging and falling down to a horrid fate. 

She thrust herself off the pillar and caught herself on the branch lithely. She swung her leg over and was upright in a moment. After all the years since your last contest, she had barely slowed.

“Hurry,” she whined as the horns began to blow. “The new king will appear soon.”

You took a breath and frowned. You couldn’t make it. If you tried, your sweaty hands would not be able to hold you, your weight, much more than that of a child, would plummet you back to the earth. You looked at Gilla and braced yourself. You threw yourself away from the pillar and caught the branch with a yelp.

The horns grew louder as you hung from the tree. You kicked your legs as you struggled to mimic Gilla. She moved closer and bent down to try to help. A drumming sounded and a voice boomed above the crowd and hushed the impatient voice. The marching of armoured boots entered the square from the opposite end and the music vibrated through your body as you hissed and clung to the tree frantically.

“People of Asgardia,” the crier proclaimed, “I present to you, Loki, Son of Odin, First of His Name, sanctified and rightful heir to the twelve realms and newly-anointed King of Asgardian. Hear, hear, long live the king!”

You finally dug your foot into the side of the tree as you cried out desperately. You walked up the trunk and hooked your leg over the branch as Gilla helped pull you up. The leaves barely offered a curtain to your shame as you righted yourself and you poked your friend meanly in the side. 

“Never again,” you swore as you gasped for breath.

“Oh, hush, look,” she pointed past the foliage around you, “Look. The king!”

You glanced over at the dark head of the new ruler. The golden horns of his crown and the lustrous silver of his robes. King Loki seemed to stare back at you as the branch shifted beneath you and rustled the leaves.

“Stop fidgeting,” Gilla remanded, “You’ll snap our perch.”

“Shhh,” you covered her mouth, “You’ll give us away.”

She pulled your hand away and sniffed. “It’s fine. It’s just a tree.”

You tutted and looked back to the platform at the centre of the square. The people cheered and stomped and clapped with the music. There would be a feast for all. The tents had already been erected both within and without the royal grounds. The latter would be for the commoners though a seat would be hard to find amidst the hungry hordes.

“He’s not so handsome as his brother,” Gilla bemoaned, “But I wouldn’t call him hideous.”

“How can you tell from so far?” You snipped.

“You remember Brytta? She is a chambermaid in the palace now. Once she did sneak me in through the laundries. I saw the princes rather well.” She preened.

“Well, I don’t think comeliness the most important feature of a king,” you reproached. “I remember this prince hasn’t the nicest reputation.”

“He does enjoy tricks but every court has a jester to do tricks,” Gilla shrugged.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “I suppose he could not be very different from his father.”

Gilla watched the king a little longer as you leaned against the trunk. You wondered how you would descend without catastrophe as the parade went on.

“A pity it is not his brother,” she uttered under her breath. “To think he stepped down for that Lady Jane… romantic but… he would’ve been a fine king.”

“Oh, and how should you know a fine king?” You snorted sarcastically.

“He was a warrior like Odin. A good king needs to be able to fight.”

“And I heard Loki did fight in kind,” you squinted. “I believe it was you who told me that though I can never be certain where you learn these things.”

“Yes, but no one ever spoke much of this prince’s honour,” she picked at the bark between her legs. “Well, one day, you and me, we’re going to tell our children how we watched the king from this very tree. Isn’t that something?”

“And warn them not to chance the climb,” you muttered, “If we do survive the way down.”

“Oh do not be so grim,” she prodded your shoulder. “We should be away before the king if we want a plate.”

“No, I’ve bread at home.” You watched as she inched to the end of the branch. “You can’t do that-- you’ll--”

“I’ll be just fine but if you want to perish up here for your fear, I’ll mourn you from below.” She leaped and caught herself on the pillar as easily as before. “And I’ll not wait long as I have no desire to be trampled.”

You huffed and pushed your head back. You looked around at the crowd and the king amid the eye of the storm. He stood staunchly, tall and slender, his chin held up as his eyes seemed fixed on the old tree. You would have to be quick before he thought to send one of his many guards. That was if he could even see you.

You readied yourself as Gilla began to shimmy down the pillar. You straddled the branch and neared the end as she had. You felt it dip and closed your eyes in a silent prayer. When you opened them, you pulled your feet up under you and jumped blindly. You hugged the stone and muffled a scream behind your lips. You whimpered as you made certain you weren’t falling.

“Gilla,” you growled as you peered down at her, “I hate you.”

“And that’s why I love you,” she called back.

🐍

The long tent was filled quickly and you sat at the end of a bench with Gilla pressed against you. Your adrenaline deepened your hunger and you quickly stole a pie from the stacks placed among the immense trestles. The voices mingled and blared under the canvas and filled it with damp heat. 

Above the cheerful, chewing noise of the peasants, you could hear the distant din of the nobility. On the other side of the palace wall, they ate from golden plates, not wood, and divulged in food even more savoury and plenty. You didn’t resent a free meal and did not envy the aristocratic celebration. Among your own people, there was no expectation and joy more pure than the rehearsed glee of the upper crest.

Gilla drank two cups of the cheap wine. It tasted like vinegar and the ale smelled sickly. You avoided both as you saw the effects of it all around you.

The night approached in shadows through the open mouth of the tent but the feast wore on. Dancing began as musicians played on drums and untuned lutes. The music was not so sweet as that played by the royal band but it fed a spritely fever in the crowd.

Gilla went to relieve herself as you watched a drunken man in a sloppy jig. The king would be called generous for feeding the masses. It was clever. An unspoken bribe to the citizenry.

When Gilla returned, she was hiccuping but her eyes were lit with delight. She tugged on your hand as she tried to hold in the air as it rose in her chest. She exhaled and rubbed her stomach with her other hand.

“Come, I’ve something to show you.” She declared.

“It’s late, we should go before there’s a brawl,” you cautioned, “You know what happens when ale is poured so freely.”

“Shhh, the sky is not yet black,” she drew you to your feet. “Just come with me.”

You humoured her. She was drunk. Likely, she would forget by the time you were outside. You were certain she had as she led you around the back and past the rear of another tent. In the shadows along the palace wall. she pulled you behind her and pressed herself to the stone.

“I watched the guard go,” she pointed to a small gate hidden along the curve of the barrier, “With a woman… he should be away for some time.”

“A woman.” You echoed. “Oh,” you realised the implication in her words, “So?”

“You’ve never wanted to see the palace?”

“I’ve seen it--”

“From afar. You’ve seen the windows and the rooves. You’ve never seen the gardens or the statues or the fountains…”

“We can’t. Gilla, we’ll get caught and--”

“Be quiet and we won’t,” she tugged on your sleeve and you planted your heels.

“No,” You hissed, “We can’t.”

“No, you won’t,” she snapped, “but you won’t stop me either.”

She let go of you and lifted her skirt above her sandals as she raced forward. You cursed and followed as you watched her stagger through the open gate inset into the stone. You caught her arm as she broke the threshold.

“Gilla--”

“Let go of me!” She said loudly.

You shushed her and recoiled. Her eyes gleamed as she looked at the colourful round tent that swell with lantern light and sweet harp music. She dashed onward and you kept close. You would have to drag her out of here herself if she insisted on crashing the royal festivities.

She stopped at a seam and pulled it apart to peer between the silk. Her face shone as light leaked out from the tent and she gasped. “Look,” she whispered, “They’re all so beautiful.”

You came up beside her and peeked inside. The king sat at a table amid his lords and their ladies, several other trestles were lined with nobles garbed in rich satins and brocade. You looked to Gilla as he lashes fluttered and you tried to pull her back.

“That’s enough,” you sneered, “we can’t linger.” You looked back as you heard a metal clink and the heavy boot fall of a guard, “There is a watch.”

“They cannot see us here,” she clung to the silk. “Could you imagine? Wearing a gown like that?’

“No, and I have no fancy to think of it,” you said, “Gilla…” you quieted as the shadow of guard passed along the front of the tent. You snatched the silk and pushed it together. “Let’s go. Now!”

“Hey!” She shouted and you heard the sharp halt of armoured feet.

“Gilla! Go!” You tore her away from the wall of the tent.

You shoved her ahead of you as the dark figure of the guard came back around to look along the side of the tent. Gilla giggled but kept on as you broke into a sprint. She was at least sensical enough to realise you were being chased. You could hear the pursuit not far behind.

“Go, go, go,” you demanded, “Shit!”

The small gate was closed and another guard stood before it. You veered away and grabbed Gilla’s arm as you directed her over to the wines running up the south end of the wall. The other guard had joined the chase and you didn’t dare look back.

“Climb,” you pushed Gilla into the wall, “Come on.”

She laughed again but did as you bid. You followed closely but your clogs made it hard as the vines caught on them. You kicked off your shoes frantically. Your ankle was caught suddenly and you cried out. Gilla stopped and looked down at you. You tried to wriggle free of the gauntleted hand but your other leg was trapped in kind.

“Go!” You barked up, “Go!”

You wrestled with the guards as they gripped your ankles. With a sharp yank, they tore you from the vines and you landed on your back in the dirt. The air rushed from your lungs and you coughed painfully. 

“Please,” you wheezed as the guards seized your arms and forced you up, “I was just-- I’m lost. I didn’t--”

Metal cut into your lip as a fist struck you. Hard. Your head pulsed and your eyes watered as you were dragged away from the wall. Your feet skidded over the dirt and you struggled to see straight.

“Don’t--” You groaned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You are trespassing,” the guard snarled. “On royal grounds.”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. Please. You can just let me go and--”

“Get her in irons.” The guard at your left growled to the other, “I’ll have the grounds searched for any others.

“No, no, no,” you tried to resist as the large man jerked you forward. 

“Shut up.” He swatted the back of your head. “You best hope the king is merciful this day.”

🐍

You could say at least that you had seen the palace. however you did not think you would ever have the chance to tell Gilla or anyone else. Past the laundries, past the kitchens, you were thrown into a small room hidden along a vacant corridor. The guard stood inside the door, his hand on his pommel, as sniffed and sniped.

“Fucking wench, ruining the whole night,” he grumbled.

You ignored him as you sat on the floor with your head down. Heavy cuffs held your hands behind you, a chain between them. You should blame Gilla but you only hoped that she got away.

You stayed there for an hour, perhaps more. Were you waiting? And if so, for what?

You were roused only by the sound of mail and armour in the corridor. Another guard approached as the one within opened the door. The single torch on the wall flicker as a trim and tall figure strode inside, the second guard at his back.

“Your majesty,” the guard bowed his head.

“And why have I been disturbed on the night of my coronation?” You stared at the king as his sharp features shone in the licking firelight.

“Your majesty, we can handle the trespasser. We were only about to take them to the dungeon.”

“Can you? How then did he get this far?” The king glared down his nose at the guard. “I am told as I toast to my throne that some street rat has thrown up the alert.”

“It is contained, your maj--”

“Out!” The king barked. “Both of you. I shall deal with the criminal myself.”

King Loki turned to face you and his lip twitched as he looked at you for the first. You quickly lowered your eyes and listened to the guards retreat into the corridor. There was silence as the kicks boots softly moved across the stone. He paced back and forth then approached you suddenly.

“Peasant,” he called as he stopped before you, “I shall permit you to look upon me as I speak. To make certain that you can understand me.”

Slowly, you lifted your head and blinked. “Your majesty,” you rasped. 

He was rather frightening up close. His dark hair hung in loose waves to his shoulders and he was much taller than he seemed from afar. His green eyes glowed even as he blocked the torchlight with his figure.

“You trespassed on crown land. Do you understand the punishment for such an affront?”

You gulped. You knew. All knew. This man’s own father had made his laws and their consequences hard to forget. Your fate became clear all at once.

“Yes, your majesty.” You tried to moisten your lips with your tongue as you found it hard to talk, “Hanging.”

He smirked and tilted his head. He backed up slightly as his hands rested on his hips and he considered you. He chuckled and bent his knees as he squatted before you. He twined his fingers together as he positioned himself as a parent would over their child.

“And are you prepared to hang for your wandering?” He challenged.

You looked him in the face, closer now, you could see the taunting gleam in his eyes. It angered you. The sheer nonchalance that hung from his shoulders.

“If I must, your majesty,” you answered, “I suppose that I am ready.”

His brows drew together as he weighed your words. He stared at you and reached out to free a loose thread from your sleeve.

“And you did also loiter upon a relic of the kingdom,” he said, “Did you not?”

You grimaced as you watched him. You said nothing.

“I almost did hope you would’ve fallen. It would’ve have been just, wouldn’t it?” 

Your lips parted in realisation. He had seen you.

“As your majesty says,” you agreed, “It is your justice.”

He stood and snickered. He went to the corner and took the short stool hidden there. He approached again and sat across from you.

“Why did you trespass?” He asked pointedly.

“I was lost,” you answered.

“You know, it would be a third offense to lie to your king.” You pressed your lips together. “You are rather convincing when you try to act brave but you are not such a good liar on other fronts.” His long fingers tapped above his knee. “So why did you trespass?”

“Lost, your majesty. I only realised too late how lost I truly was.” You repeated.

“But there was another? Perhaps that accomplice who also scaled the Founder’s Tree?”

“It was dark. It was only me.” You could not say Gilla was there for that only meant she would suffer too. “I am to the core sorry that I did trespass and it is not an act I would repeat. Though I can gather that I would not have the chance to.”

He nodded and raised his chin as he looked to the ceiling. He bit his lip as he thought. He smirked again. When he looked at you, his gaze made you want to shudder. 

“It is a night of celebration and as king, I should show mercy on such occasion, especially so early into my reign.” He said evenly, “So perhaps you might beg mercy and I might show benevolence.”

His tone was mocking and pompous. He enjoyed his power over you, though it was no feat to hold authority over a commoner. There were horses of better standing than you. You swallowed. Your life was not worth his arrogance. You would play his game.

“Your majesty, I beg your mercy--”

“On your knees,” he flicked two fingers up. “Do it proper, now. I know you’ve not training in etiquette but I do expect some decency.”

You hid your discomfort and shifted as you pulled your legs under you. With your hands bound, it was awkward and difficult. As you raised yourself on your knees, you fell forward and he caught you before you could hit his knee. He chuckled.

“Your majesty,” you cleared your throat as he righted you. “Thank you,” you choked out, embarrassed. “I…” You exhaled, “I beg of you to show me mercy for my offense--”

“Crimes,” he interjected.

“...for my crimes,” you corrected, “And I pray that you will not sentence me harshly.”

He was quiet. He raised his brows expectantly.

“Please, your majesty, I beg of you.” You pleaded, “Please, if you were to spare me, I would be forever beholden to you.”

He tapped his toe and pushed his shoulders back. He stood suddenly and his emerald cape flapped behind him as he folded his hand behind him. He paced and stopped again, in front of you. He gazed down at you and brought his hand forward to pick his nail.

“Mercy, I grant you. You, little mouse, will not be hung.” He announced. “On my crown, I am merciful.”

He spun and went to the door. He hit his knuckles on the thick wood and it was opened quickly from the other side.

“She will not face the rope,” he said, “But do see her to the dungeons.”

“Wait!” You nearly fell forward as you tried to stand, “You said I would have mercy--”

“And you do,” he turned sharply as the guard blocked the door with his arm. “I have given you your life.”

“A life in the dungeons--”

“A life beholden to me,” he said, “That was what you promised.”

He swiftly continued down the corridor and the guard came forward to lift you to your feet. You listened to the light footfalls of the king as he retreated and you were led out into the hallway. You were turned in the opposite direction and the walls seem to close in with each step.

Who would ever call this mercy?

[yami-writes]

if your asks are open & my request isn't too much. could you write a secret relationship one shot with mina & a skater fem! reader? so like the bakusquad wants to have a movie night, but like mina declines since girly had a date with her cute skatergirl planned on that day already & like she snitches out to the date & like both of them snitch into minas room later & cuddle & kiss, reader on her lap clinging like a fucking koala on her & how her classmates would find out, react. please my bisexual ass needs more girlxgirl content here, espacially with the mha girls 😔✊

(✨) paring(s) — Ashido x fem!skater!reader  (⚠️) warning(s) — none! (🔖) word count — 2.3k (💌) yami's note — yuhh fr tho 🤧 we need more mha girls but dw i gotchu 😌✨ 

“What? Why?” Kirishima questioned, poking his head out from behind Bakugo, “We’ve been planning this for weeks! You can't just flunk on us like this!!” Kaminari exclaimed, causing Mina to rethink the amount of time that went into tonight's now somewhat ruined plans “Aha~ yeah... sorry about that guys. Maybe another time.” she scratched the back of her head. 

Mina was about to leave before being stopped by a hard grip on her wrist “Oi, raccoon eyes. You better have a good excuse for this.” Bakugo glared, his crimson eyes almost seemed as if they could pierce holes in her soul. ‘Why does Bakugo of all people care!?’ She fumbled on her words, trying to find a reasonable excuse that would reward her the get-out-of-jail-free card without spilling the beans on anything private. “Uh- well- I uhm…” 

“Bakugo, leave her alone. Forcing yourself into her business isn’t very manly of you.” Kirishima chimed, ‘Right before I was about to get blown to bits! Thanks, Kirishima!’ Mina sighed in her head, before checking the time. 2:54pm. She promised to meet her date at 3pm.

Before anyone knew it, Mina was dashing down to the common room and out the door, almost appearing as a pink blur to everyone around her.

“Wha-what was that??” “I think that was Mina~” “Where is she going that fast!?” “I don't know,,”  “Mina’s fast but I didn't think she would be able to pull off those kinds of speeds.” the class-A girls conversed, wondering in concern what's got Mina in such a rush.

“Shit! I'm gonna be late! This isn't even the first time!!” Mina panicked, still racing over to the park the two of you had planned to meet at. 

Mina recalled the time she came almost 20 minutes late to a date because she didn't know what to wear, digging through her closet to find something she thought you would like. Dresses, skirts, sweaters, shorts, jeans, you name it, she probably tried it. 

To say the least, Mina was nervous. 

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Mina continued to race towards the park she had agreed to meet at. Her pace began to slow as her stamina got closer to reaching its limit. “Hey, Mina!!” she heard a familiar voice call out. “Y/n!! Hi!” huffed out as she came to a stop. Mina took a moment to gather her breath, her hands on her knees as she pants. “Did you seriously run all the way here from your dorm?” y/n questioned after a minute of silence.

“Of course I did! I didn’t want to be late,,, again.” 

“You’re a riot.” 

“Thanks!” 

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The weather outside was nice and the view the park offered was wonderful. Flowers of all sorts bloomed on the flowerbeds. Mina could see daffodils, tulips, alliums, sunflowers, all of different colours. The clouds created gorgeous patterns in the sky, larger ones blocking out the sun and giving the area a slightly darker atmosphere, nobody seemed to mind though. Trees shaded parts of the park, most of the adults seemed to linger around there, watching the children play together. 

Mina and y/n took a seat at one of the benches that was shaded by a tall and broad tree, the smell of nature flowing around it, their hands intertwined. Mina wasn’t the best in some compartments, but one thing she is good at is conversation. It's hard to find a dull moment with her, maybe that’s why people like being around her so much. y/n definitely wasn’t at her level when it came to social skills but the conversations between them flowed so effortlessly, the two of them just seemed to click in the best way possible. Two puzzle pieces that were meant to be together, created to be together. 

“Hey! Mina, look!!” y/n pointed to an ice cream parlor across the park, a small line of children with their parent’s 5 dollar bills in their hands  “Let’s get popsicles!” 

“Sure! Last one there has to pay!!” Mina ran off towards the parler.

“Hey-! No fair!!” y/n ran after her, taking an extra moment to pick up her skateboard, the thought of riding it to pass Mina not crossing her mind. Mina was a fast runner, most of the men in her class not able to compete without their quirks, same thing goes for y/n. It was possible her skateboard wouldn’t even be able to put up a rewarding fight. 

Mina waited by the parler, almost mockingly stretching her arms as she waited for her date to catch up. “Took you long enough~!” Mina giggled

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” y/n got out a $15 bill from her pocket before immediately having it taken from her hands. “I was joking! Let me pay instead!” Mina pleaded “I wanna make it up to you for coming late,”

“Babes, you were a minute late..” 

“I made you wait an extra minute!! And what about all those other times I-” Mina was cut off by the Parler man clearing his throat to get their attention. She shoved her money onto the counter before ordering y/n’s favourite flavor and a strawberry popsicle for herself. The Parler man took the money before opening  his parler and handing them the requested flavoured popsicles. 

“Thanks, sir!” Mina chirps before taking y/n’s hand, bringing her back to the bench the two of them were sitting at before. The two of them unwrapped their cold treats, enjoying and sharing them with each other. 

Conversation continued to flow between the two, time quickly passing by. Parents began taking their children home, young adults began walking home from their jobs, the city seemed alive. 

Wind blew on the three branches of the park, a chill starting to coat the air. 

“It’s probably gonna get cold soon, maybe we should get inside.” y/n proposed

“Yeah... Hey! You should come to the dorms!” Mina was quick to suggest, she’s always wanted to bring y/n to her room. The idea of having y/n close to her body, sharing snacks and watching funny videos on instagram always brought warmth to her heart. The idea of getting caught never really crossed her mind. 

“Are you sure? Your classmates are definitely gonna find out.” 

“No they won’t, I promise!”

“Mina, they’re heroes-in-training…” 

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

When mina was set on a decision, it was hard to get her to settle for something else, that’s something y/n’s learned many times. Mina dragged her partner to the UA dorm buildings, planning out loud what they could do together. Face masks, tiktoks, nails, and dancing are only a few of the activities that came into question. 

“I like the sound of face masks, I've been needing one for a while, my acne’s been acting up.” y/n groaned. “Dancing also sounds pretty fun, do you have any new playlists?” 

“I always have new playlists! Plus, Jirou recommended me some new songs the other day, her music taste actually isn’t that bad,” Mina giggled, “For a goth, that is.” y/n laughed at her comment. 

Mina talked about her classmates often, sometimes even gossiping about them. She never said anything hurtful, though, it was usually just a few mentions after finding something that reminded her of them. She once found a icyhot packet in the store and went on about this hot and talented guy in her class, a frog jumping around near a pond caused her to ramble on about her friend Tsu, and the taste of a tea served to her at a cafe reminded her of the tea her friend Momo would serve at the tutor sessions she hosted. 

Soon enough, the couple was standing in front of Heights Alliance, preparing a plan to get inside without being noticed. “Everyone’s usually elsewhere at this time, probably in their rooms or off training or something~” Mina opens the door to the building, “We should be good.” 

Mina peeps her head inside, making sure no one was in the common room before she proceeded. She motioned for y/n to come inside, before walking further inside the building. “C’mon, my room is this way!” Mina took y/n’s hand, passing by the common room and to the elevator. y/n couldn’t help but look around, she had never been in the Dormitories until this point, it was much nicer, and bigger, than she expected. The elevator ride was quiet, the fear of having classmates hear them while they continued their loud conversation through the halls on their minds. 

The elevator stopped at the selected floor, Mina took y/n’s hand again before leading her to their destination just around the corner. “Here is it! Come on in!” Mina smiled before unlocking and opening her room door. 

“Oh wow, so… pink.” y/n gasped “Yeah!! Do you like it?” 

“Of course I do! Your whole room just reminds me of you, I love it!” y/n wrapped her hands around her date “And I love you too!”

“I love you more!!” Mina giggled, returning the hug. Her embrace was warm, warmer than one might expect, that might be the result of such a pure heart. 

“Whatcha wanna do? I have a bunch of stuff here,” Mina pulls out a box from under her bed and begins to dig through it, “I have face masks and beauty supplies here, snacks and candy hidden around my room, we could also watch some movies or find a show to binge!” 

“Face masks are a good idea, and I’m down to watch a movie while we wait for them to dry.” y/n gets down beside her on the ground, watching her sift through her box of stuff.

“Awesome! What movie should we watch? I have a bunch of DVD’s on my shelf but we could always find something on Netflix. Oh and pick your favourite face mask!” Mina presented about 12 different face masks for y/n to choose from. 

“Oh~ I like that one! It’s my favourite colour, and it has a nice scent.” y/n picked up the f/c bottle, reading the labels on the back and admiring the smell emitting from it. “Nice choice! I’ll go with this one!” Mina holds up a pink, sparkly bottle with grapefruits and strawberries on the front. “This one’s my favourite, I use it all the time!” 

“I can see why,” y/n laughs, Mina joining in. 

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The two of them sat comfortably on Mina’s bed, y/n on her lap and arms wrapped around her. A movie the couple had agreed on plays in front of them on Mina’s laptop as they wait for their face masks to dry, sharing candy she had hid around her room. Mina occasionally placed soft kisses on y/n’s cheeks, jaw and neck, it was her favourite thing to do in this position. While Mina enjoyed receiving affection, she seemed to love giving affection even more.

Soon enough, the movie ended and credits began to roll, giving y/n and Mina a moment to stretch after sitting in one position for over an hour. “That was a good movie.” y/n said between stretches. “Yeah, I’m gonna recommend it to Hagakure, she’s been looking for good movies to watch lately.” Mina got out her phone to check the time, “We still have a few hours, wanna watch another one while we wait for our nails to dry?”

“We’re gonna do nails too?”

“Yeah!”

“Sure.”

Uhm i’m not sure how to continue and end this so i’ll do HCs for this part LMAOO

I gotta get better at writing smh 

Anyways, after Mina took you to her dorm for the first time you started coming over more often

The two of you always have a shitton of fun when you do

Not like you ever not have fun with Mina 

Although this one time was different~ 

Your skateboard had dirt and mud on it from riding after a storm, so you had left it by the door to avoid tracking any of it in Mina’s room 

But it so happened Denki was walking by and found it in the hallway floor 

And seeing it was outside Mina’s door he decided to not knock and ask if it was hers

He caught yall cuddling while binging your favourite anime 

“Yo, Mina, is this skateboard you-”

He went 👁️👄👁️

After an eternity a few seconds of pure silence Denki’s like BHJNBHJVHJ WHO’S THAT???? AND WHY ARE YOU SO CLOSE TO THEM-??/?????

Mina sighs and explains the whole thing about how yall have been dating in secret and going on dates and stuff

The look on the boy’s face was literally surprised pikachu 

Mina asked him to keep a secret but c'mon now we all know Mr. Kaminari cannot keep a secret for the life of him👩🏾‍🦯 big mouth headass

He told everyone. 

the look on Mina’s face when Sero brought up her secret girlfriend the next day was priceless

“H-hOW YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!?”

“Denki told me.” 

Denki: *choke* 

He knows he’s ‘bouta get his ass beat.

As for reactions, they’re mainly looking pretty positive ✨

Denki, kirishima, bakugou and sero are the first people to find out, and probably one of the only people Mina talks about you to besides the other class a girls

They’re happy for her (although bakuhoe wouldn’t admit it- he pretends he don’t care but c'mon we know better than that), and definitely wanna meet you sometime soon 

All the class A girls and basically screaming 

Cuz like- wHAT

How could Mina keep such a big secret grrrrr >:((

She ends up bringing you and the rest of the girls to her room to meet you

Expect expect like 30 questions from each of them about various different topics that may or may not matter

Remember the boys who didn't care about seeing the girl’s rooms in that one episode? Yea this squad is still on their shit🧘🏾‍♀️

Okay well they do care, just not as much dnjskbjdkn

Sato would bake you a yummy cupcake! 

You ain’t neva eating something that delicious ever again just sayin~ 

Everyone else would silently wish to meet you one day 

Tenya is probably the only person you should look out for

if you don’t have Aizawa’s permission to be on campus he probably won’t let you inside🖐🏾

aizawa don’t care tho so getting permission isn’t a problem 

Overall, 1-A’s reaction to Mina’s girlfriend is pretty positive! 😗✌🏾

masterlist 

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (03)

word count; 10,638

summary; you and thomas almost find some common ground, but clinging to petty hatred might ruin it all.

notes; making some progress, and I know y’all are going to love the tension building.

warnings; burnings buildings, minor burns, reference to injury, reference to explosions.

Humming along to the tune playing from your phone, it was plugged into the speaker atop the counter, the lowest volume you could get it as you tried to keep the volume down. You never had been one to sleep while at the Firehouse, no matter how late at night your shifts were, and while this was your team’s two weeks of night shift rotations, you’d adapted to it easily.

Maybe you’d been forced to. Maybe you’d force yourself to. You weren’t exactly comfortable with the team yet, and something about going to sleep surrounded by people you didn’t know felt uncomfortable to you. You trusted them with your life, your job required that you did, but you would only get restless sleep anyway.

Cooking, however, was something you were comfortable with. Cooking at night while the rest were asleep, the clock barely tickling past 5AM as they all slept until called to duty gave you free time to be with your own thoughts.

The smell of frying bacon was filling the room, lyrics falling quietly from your lips as your hips swung, and you heard the first of your colleagues begin to shuffle into the room. You turned to look over your shoulder, Minho being the first to wake, and you’d learned recently that he was always the first to wake. He was an early bird, someone who normally went for a jog before coming on his shifts, and he groaned, scratching at his stomach while the other arm stretched over his head, trying to wake himself up a little more.

“Smells like bacon. Did you make enough for two?”

“I made enough for about twenty.” You teased, hearing his sleepy laugh, and he came to hop up onto the island counter behind you, bypassing the chairs as he took a seat on the higher surface instead, and he rubbed at his eyes.

“You cooked for us?”

“I cooked for me, and figured I might as well make sure you all get a healthy breakfast in, too. Can’t have you slacking on the job because all you ate for breakfast was three candy bars and a skittle, can I?” You grabbed for a plate, a stack that you’d placed beside yourself, the first one being dished up to your friend. A couple of pancakes from the hot plates, sausages, bacon, eggs, and a pot of coffee, and you dished it up, sliding it towards a seat as he fetched a set of knives and forks for you both, groaning loudly at the sight of food.

“This looks amazing.”

He took a seat on the stool this time, poking at it all in the lower light as he chopped up his food, folding a piece of bacon inside a pancake, and lifting the bundle to his mouth. Serving yourself up and covering the rest, you leaned against the counter in front of him, beginning to chop at your food. As he chewed the mouthful longer, he tipped his head back, a louder and longer groan falling from his lips as he showed his appreciation for the meal, and you covered your snicker with your food, chewing a mouthful and shaking your head fondly.

“Who’s folding porn in here? It better not be Minho, again.”

“Again?” You almost choked on your food as Winston came wandering in, your brow raising as you turned to your colleague, and he sighed dramatically.

“They were filming a tour video for the Firehouse for a thing online, I don’t know.” He waved his hand, shoving another forkful into his mouth, and you realised the men here had never been raised to chew with their mouths closed, as though they were raised wild as teens. “Anyway, I was seeing this chick at the time, and y’know, she was hot. A bit too feisty even for me.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.”

“Hey, there are things even I wouldn't do!” He objected, and behind you, as he helped himself to food, Winston snorted. “Yeah, not much, though.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, she comes to visit me at work. She’s got her hands all over, she was just dating me because I was a fireman. She drags me behind a truck and we were, well, making out pretty heavily. Like teenagers behind the science block. They caught it on the camera while touring, and had to cut it all out and refilm that section.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal, and Winston took a seat beside him, your eyes fixed on your coworkers, brows raising.

“It was more than just making out. She had her legs around your waist.”

“She did not!” Minho scoffed, crumbs of the food flying everywhere, and you couldn’t contain the laugh as he turned to punch his friend in the arm, the two setting off in a weak match of slaps and punches as they tried to keep eating.

Brenda was next through the door, already seeming to look composed and poised like she’d had hours to get ready, all but gliding through the room, and she flickered her eyes over the two tussling boys. “What’s going on in here?”

“Winston was just telling me about the time Minho got caught on camera kissing a chick behind the trucks.”

“Oh, you mean the girl with her legs around his waist?” Brenda was then immediately drawn into the argument, hissed whisper-shouts as you tried to contain your laughter, and as the hours ticked on from the discussion, your plate slipped into the dishwasher, a fresh pot of coffee being started, more and more of the team began to join the room. The next was Gally. His nose turned up at the offer of coffee, Brenda mocking him for his selective taste in teas, trying to copy his accent too, but he did help himself to a plate of food. Clint and Jeff were next, the two practically attached at the hip, moving as a unit, always one with the other. They were talking among themselves as they got their breakfasts, but took enough time free to offer their greetings to everyone, mumbling a vague ‘thank you’ to ‘whoever had cooked’, before they were sitting at the table and becoming invested in their conversation once again.

Newt came in next, bright and cheery and full of energy, as he had been for the last three days since getting the boot taken off his foot and being able to rotate his ankle and walk normally again, limp barely present now he was like a bright ray of sunshine, rising with the actual sunrise. Fry and Zart followed, passing through as the sun in the room rose, the music being drowned out by the loud chatter in the room, the clattering of cutlery and utensils, with the vague noise of the morning news being turned on for a weather update.

Taking your phone back from where it was placed on the stand, you lifted it up, barely any of the food you’d made remaining, and you felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment at providing for your team, and never having a single complaint. It wasn’t often that you made this kind of gestures, it wasn’t often worth it, not when you were so used to take your meals and finding a quiet spot to eat alone, but more and more, you’d been finding yourself enjoying the company of the people around you, progressively feeling more included in the conversations and activities as the ripples across the water caused by your arrival began to settle.

Chuck was a late riser, still looking completely dazed as he stepped into the room, a little wobble in his step, and you took the liberty of creating a plate for him, and a large mug of coffee, taking it over to where he had slumped down at the dining table with his head rested on his hands, eyes already closing. Creeping up behind your friend, you leaned down, light snores leaving him as he began to doze off again, despite being surrounded by stimulation, noise and light.

“Boo!”

He jerked violently, almost knocking the food and mug out of your hand as he sat up, looking shocked for just a moment, before red-twinged cheeks were facing your directions, narrowed eyes in a glare, and a scowl on his face. “You suck.”

“I brought you food and coffee.”

He considered it for a moment, eyes sweeping over the plate, before sitting up a little straighter. “Okay, you suck slightly less now.”

He accepted the offerings, digging in almost instantaneously, and you took a seat beside him, sipping the hot drink in your own hands as you absorbed the environment. Making friends was hard when you skipped about so much, even making friends outside of work, as you moved from one side of the city of the other to new houses, never bothering to decorate or properly unpack because you weren’t sure how long you’d ever be in one location.

It was undeniably nice to be surrounded for once, and not be immediately looking for the next exit.

Chuck was happy to just talk, filling the space between you both as he spoke about everything he could think of. He told you about his mother, and his four older sisters, the second of whom was getting married, and the first of whom was halfway through her pregnancy, and how excited he was to become an uncle. He asked you about your bruises, and how the swelling was doing, making you demonstrate the rotations of your arm for him as the muscles no longer ached as you could lift them over your head, some discoloured splotching where the bruises were almost healed was all that was left.

As the clock ticked over, just past 8AM, the room was full. Even Vince having passed through and joined you all for a cup of coffee and a reasonably quick chat, giving into the teasing he was getting from Newt and Brenda about an update on the doctor he’d been seeing, her name revealed as Mary now things were getting serious, and you hoped to meet her one day at the hospital.

It was clear to you that the people here were a family, and despite the friction between you and some of the members, certain ones sticking strong with their guards up against you as they followed in their Lieutenant’s footsteps, you were winning some of them over. Newt had yet to bring it back up, the challenge that he’d issued you of giving it a year, and promising that this house would be different, but you knew he hadn't forgotten the conversations, because every so often, you’d catch his gaze lingering on you when you were chatting to another colleague, and reaching out a little more.

Chiming about your head signalled a call coming in, the room falling from commotion and filled with activity to dead and silent as everyone listened, and the second it was over, all of the chairs were scraping, pots and cutlery clammering as plates were stacked up haphazardly, and the room was cleared in seconds. Only you and Newt remained, being given a free minute, maybe two at the maximum, as you waited for the foremen to grab their equipment and swap out shoes for protective boots, gear in hand as they loaded the trucks.

“I’m going to go and check on Tommy, make sure he’s up.”

You nodded, realising now why the atmosphere around you was so peaceful. There was no walking on eggshells or lingering glares, nothing that might put you off about saying the wrong thing in fear of getting yelled out, or burning gals into the back of your skull, but simply the calm and quiet of being surrounded by people who were at least civil with you, instead of hating your guts.

Grabbing the trays that were barely even warm now, the food having cooled a while ago, you stacked up what was on a single plate, covering it with a quick wrap of foil, and watching as Thomas stumbled on past in a flurry of movement that made you think he might trip, grabbing his boots from the floor and his coat and helmet form the rack, not even bothering to change them before getting onto the squad truck waiting, and watching as it disappeared.

Tucking the reserved plate into the fridge, everything else was left out to be sorted later, and you grabbed the keys from the rack, meeting Newt in the doorway, the two of you jogging side by side to the vehicle. Since the period of time when you’d been driving instead of him while his boot was on, he seemed to have gained a little more trust in you, allowing you to drive the vehicle instead, every so often, despite how precious the rig maybe to him.

Doors slamming shut on either side, and as soon as the engine was on, Newt flipped on the emergency sirens, letting you strap yourself in beside him as you began to pull out of the courtyard, chasing after the red trucks ahead of you both in a rapid pursuit to your destination.

Early morning traffic cleared, the palm of your hand continually pressing down on the horn as people tried to pull back across lanes in the road as soon as the firetrucks had cleared, never having the patience to wait for the ambulances to go through to, but you battled to keep up with them, the smaller vehicle making it easier to navigate and weave through the other cars.

Smoke was already curling up into the air as you arrived, thick and dark, worrying bursts of it, and the stench of gas was filling the car as soon as you arrived on the street, pulling up to the sidewalk and throwing the van into park.

Hopping out of the vehicle, you let out a long breath, trying not to cringe at the smell on the air or the taste it was leaving in your mouth, your stomach twisting a little. You shared a look with Newt, looking around at the situation as you tried to assess it all, feet carrying you closer to the group of firefighters who were coming up with a game plan for the situation at hand. Thomas was already barking orders, hair messy from scratching at it and running his hands through with stress, a look you’d seen several of the men get when things shit the fire, pun intended, and you came to a halt.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Thomas’ eyes flicked to you and Thomas, words pausing in his mouth, snapping shut as he tried to reevaluate the plan. sniffling at the air, he groaned a little, skating his head.

“Alright, Minho’s on shutting these gas lines. Go and find an override until we can get this fixed. Take Chuck with you.” The official firefighter nodded, the unofficial firefighter perking up a little at the task, and pulling on their masks, the two of them set off. “Can I get paramedics setting up a stretcher straight away, we got reports that there’s a family inside, the house that started the fire. Mother was cooking when the main exploded, and it shot right through to her stove.”

You had your instructions, the two of you heading in a quick jog back to the van, because no matter what everyone else did, you had your instructions. The back of the van was opened, and you worked on unfastening the stretcher wheels as Newt prepped the van, a medkit laid out on the shelves and the ramp down. There were already people beginning to inch their way, undoubtedly complaining of headaches and nausea due to the exposure.

There was a breeze along the road, warm and reasonably calm, nothing intense enough to whip up smoke and dust into your eyes, and it was good at clearing away the lingering cloud of gas on the street, but it wasn’t so good for the firefighters. You couldn't help the way that your eye swerve flickering over to the house every so often, bright and roaring as you felt the heat all the way from here, warm cheeks under the burning glare, and you worried the flames would spread.

They were only raising higher, the entire downstairs of the house had taken alight, and Thomas and his team were still trying to work out how to get inside of the house without endangering themselves, and how to get the family out. Brenda was on hoses, dragging the reel down the street to the closest fire hydrant as fast as she possibly could, trying to screen the nozzle into place.

It was easy enough to access people, giving them each a small mask and an oxygen tank, sitting them down on the opposite curb of the sidewalk, and making sure to run along and check on their symptoms again every five minutes. The roads had been closed off on either side, barricaded by police cars and trucks, and Minho and Chuck were returning, helping Brenda with the hose as they went. The first member of the family was being brought out, a young girl being carried by who you assumed to be Gally, purely based on the height of hi as he came running over, the little girl in his arms out cold as she hung limply in his grip, and he rushed to lay her down against the bed.

“Newt, can I get a monitor?”

He yelled his reply, words not making much sense as he fumbled in the back of the van, grabbing at the monitor as best he could, and you began your initial assessment of her. Your suspicions were confirmed as the helmet and mask form the firefighter before you were removed, Gally staring down at you, wide eyes as your hands scanned along her. Tipping her head back, you opened her mouth, checking her throat hadn't become blocked, before using the small flashlight on your keychain to check the reaction in her pupils.

“She’s got some rapid ration to light in her pupils, no brain damage, smoke and gas inhalation isn’t too bad.” He let out a sigh of relief, lips flicking up at the sides as you confirmed her safety to him. Pressing gently along her lungs, you found no broken bones or ribs, making sure to keep her head a little tipped back so her airways were open as best they could be, and Newt rounded the table to the other side Bumping Gally out of the way slightly, the taller boy stepped back, waiting anxiously for more confirmation. It was sweet, his concern for the younger ones, and you’d noticed it over the last month and a half, watching him interact with children was always special. “You got a sister, Gally?”

“How’d you know?”

“Call it a lucky guess.” You teased, watching Newt beginning to cut away the sleeve of her shirt to hook up a child-sized heart monitor band onto her arm. Gally seemed just as panicked, and you’d be willing to bet money on his little sister being young, probably around this girl’s age, and seeing his own family in the victims. “Tell me about her? I bet she’s really cute.”

“She is, actually. She’s going through a unicorn phase, has been ever since turning seven.”

Bingo.

“She likes glitter too, and if you ask her what her favourite colour is, she’ll probably say rainbow. My parents have this neighbour, who is a couple years older than her, but they still hang out. The neighbour just got her first eyeshadow kit, you know, those ones they give away as free gifts with kids magazines and stuff? All the latest gossip on Selena Gomez or High School Musical, or whatever?”

You laughed a little bit, stepping away into the truck long enough to find another of the pre-prepared rows of oxygen tanks made up, and bringing it back with a small mask. Putting the band over her head, a soft beeping took up around you both as Newt confirmed that he couldn't find any further injuries on the girl, her stomach feeling soft and so there wasn’t much likelihood of any internal injuries, she was just unconscious. “Hey, don’t knock those magazines! That’s where I got my first lip gloss from!”

“She’s too young for makeup!” He huffed, the overprotective brother in him shining through to the foreground as he spoke. “So, uh, this little one. She’s going to be okay?”

“Of course, she is. Newt and I are a great team!” You beamed, Newt cheering from a few metres away where he’d wandered off to go and check on the other patients, check they were all still doing okay, no further symptoms arising. Turning the box with the heartbeat to him, his eyes closed in on it, looking as confused as ever. “There’s a lot of symbols and crap that looks confusing, I know, but just listen. Steady heartbeat, nice and strong.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Pointing to a collection of numbers, the meaning of which was like reciting the alphabet to you but you didn’t have time to explain it to Gally right now. “See these numbers, that means her heart is staying at that strength too, she’s not fluctuating or dipping, she’s doing just fine. She’s got a mask on, and other than a killer headache when she wakes up, she’s going to be just peachy.”

“Thank you.” He finally let his shoulder’s slump, looking back towards the house, and pulling his mask back on, a nod shared between you both as his helmet followed, and with that brief break to check on the young girl he’d saved, he was returning to guide his team.

The flames in the wind were getting awfully close to the other house, despite the teams trying to put out the flames, but there were only two hoses, and they had to focus on getting the downstairs of the current house controlled first. Now that the gas was out, the flames were beginning to be tamed, no longer having an accelerant to burn on, only the fuel of the house, but it didn’t make the charred black marks along the outside of the house any less concerning.

The second patient you were receiving was the father, coughing and spluttering, conscious but in a worse state than his daughter, though he looked like he didn’t care about any of it as his eyes locked onto the little girl, and he tried to put more weight on his own two feet and less on the member of your team who was holding him up.

You didn't get to see who this was, because he was dashing away from the second that the man was showing signs of being able to support his own body, right back into the flames to become a hero once again. You rushed forward as he stumbled, hands grabbing onto him to try and keep him held up, and you walked him backwards slowly as he wheezed, sitting him down on the edge of the truck, his eye moving over to his little girl.

“My girl-”

“-is going to be just fine, sir, don’t you worry. I’ve already checked her out, and she’s doing great. She’s strong, a little fighter!” You offered him a smile, one that he weakly returned, his shoulder’s slumping as he coughed violently. “Can you tell me your name?”

“John.” He wheezed, and you nodded, grabbing a fresh set of forms from the truck and placing them down beside him. Checking his airways and his vision, you deemed him okay, asking him about his pain levels, while preparing a new mask for him, and hooking it all up, twisting the oxygen on and hearing the canister let out a little hiss as it was activated.

“Can you tell me your last name?”

“Davidson.” He muttered, accepting the mask happily from you as you held it out to him, lifting it over his head, and he was covered in soot, ash still lingering in the hair around his head, a light burn on the patches of clear skin on the top, his head ducking as you began to check them over.

“Well, Mr Davidson, I’d say you’re looking rare, maybe medium-rare, but you’ll be just fine.” His eyes creased a little at the sides, a muffled laugh from behind the mask as he tried to take deep and steadying breaths, nodding his head. “You think you can start filling out those forms for me? Get one filled out for every member of your family, and it’ll save you so much time at the hospital, and it’d really do me a solid.”

He held slightly shaking hands out to you, a collection of them all pinned on the board, beginning to write his name slowly, both of your attentions looking up at the sound of snapping wood. The porch had collapsed, the smoke in the doorway clearing a little, but just because the lower flames were beginning to give way, the upper was still burning bright, only catching more heat, and you nibbled on your lower lip.

“Everyone is alright, neighbours are doing a headcount among themselves, but there’s an elderly chap, mid-seventies, name of ‘Mr O’Hare’ seeming to be missing.”

The sound of a pain clattering onto the metal of the ambulance floor before rolling away and hitting the concrete made you jump, both of you turning with raised brows to look at the man behind you, Crouching down to get the pen again, you handed it back to him, and he raised a weak hand to pull at his mask, concern and imminent fear on his face again. “That’s our neighbour.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Mr O’Hare, that’s our neighbour. He hasn’t been doing so well, lately, my wife brings him groceries every week, his family comes to visit. He sleeps a lot, he gave us a key to get in to put the groceries away.” A wash of panic set over both you and Newt, your eyes flicking back up to the house you’d been concerned about, the black marks of charring on the walls beginning to grow as the flames curled over, and as you squinted a little, you found the edges of the rood were already beginning to powder to ash, sizzling orange as the risked igniting.

You grabbed ahold of Newt’s arm, encouraging the man in your care to go back to the sheets he should be focusing on, trying to keep him calm. “Nobody has been in that house yet, Newt. That house is full of gas, the doors and windows are closed. It’s a time bomb waiting to go off.”

“You’d better go and find a fireman, because here comes the wife, and I’m going to need to go to the hospital as soon as she’s checked out.” You only nodded your head, grabbing for your medkit, swinging the bags up onto your shoulders and setting off. The first you came across was Chuck, standing outside of the building at the back of the house, making sure no wires were becoming trapped, and just as you were about to try and get his attention, a blur of movement in your peripherals brought you to a stop.

A concerned neighbour, no idea what was about to happen but you felt like you were watching it in slow-motion as the young man made his way up toward the door, kicking at it roughly as he did, the lock popping as he tried to venture inside for his neighbour. A split second, he’d barely gotten through the doorway, before the loud explosion of a houseful of gas igniting in an instant made your eyes ring, as though your eardrums had shattered. The blast sent you down to the floor, smoke, splintered wood, shards of glass, all flying around you at the sudden implications.

You could hear muffled screaming around you, your fingers digging into the dirt beneath you as you scraped your hands back to your body, and pushed yourself up. Cuts along your skin, nothing you couldn't take care of, simply the light pieces of glass that had flown past, leaving a message in their wake, a warning not to play with anything sharp. Large hands locked onto your body, pulling you to your feet, and you blinked away the stunned feeling you had, watching as the mask was lifted.

Shaking your head little, it all suddenly came back into focus, piercing sounds, the yelling of worried neighbours, and the closer yelling of the man in front of you. Gally. “(Y/L/N), are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m good, I’m fine. A few bumps and scratches, nothing serious.” He nodded his head, eyes sweeping over you regardless, and you pushed messy hair back out of your face. “There’s someone in that building, though. I was going to suggest going through the door after leaking the gas out slowly, but it’s a bit late for that now.”

You looked around, a cord forming around the man who’d been blasted back, and it wasn’t looking good.

“We’re going to need another ambulance. Call med, get one here.”

He nodded, his head, stepping away from you for a second to bring his radio to his mouth, and your hand snagged onto Chuck’s arm, shaking him a little as he stared in abject horror at the scene before him, his age really showing on his face now. Orange flickered over his features, the presence of freckles on your friend’s face distracted by hair that almost looked red in front of flames, and you shouted his name to catch his attention, wide eyes snapping to you.

“Where’s your team?” He raised a hand, pointing to the smoke of the building, and you nodded your head. He was rattled, and you shook him a little, hands on the lapels of his fireproof jacket for leverage. “Hey, Chuck, listen up. This is no time to freeze, alright? You’re a firefighter, now get someone who can spare a hand on the radio, because there’s someone else who needs saving.”

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head, and bringing the device up, button on the side pressed to talk into, and it crackled for a minute as he put the message out there, waiting for someone to reply. Grabbing his arm, you dragged him along behind you, letting him stand behind you as you shouldered through to find the groaning man on the floor, skin raw and burned, grit stuck to him from where he’d rolled along the floor in the blow back, and you hissed a little, kneeling down.

Dropping your bag and snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, Chuck sent out another call for help, and you rolled the man onto his back carefully. There wasn’t much you could do for him here, except get him on a mask and disinfect his wounds, but it wasn't going to be a pleasant process. A canister of disinfectant was your best bet for covering raw areas this large, and you pulled it out, shaking it aw you went.

“Chuck, what’s wrong?”

You bit your tongue from groaning at who replied, glancing over your shoulder for a second, the nervous boy’s eyes meeting yours, and you gave him a nod, staying focused on your task at hand and waiting for Chuck to speak instead. “We’ve got a situation, Lieutenant. That building that just went up, (Y/N) says there’s someone trapped inside, upstairs, I think.”

“Fuck. Not exactly getting in through the bottom floor, are we?” There was a series of rattles, scuffling as you assumed them to be checking over the rooms, and you swallowed thickly, hearing the wailing sirens of another ambulance beginning to get close enough to you. The conversation around you fell away, letting Chuck and Thomas hash out a plan, before you were looking back to the man on the floor, his eyes wide and on yours, shaking with pain as he still tried to stay strong.

“Hey, that was real brave of you there. Trying to save your neighbour, huh?”

“I just wanted to help.” He mumbled, words broken and light as he tried not to cry them out, his voice strained, and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, and it was admirable. One of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, and I work with firefighters! I’m going to get you patched up, alright?” He nodded his head, gritting his teeth as you warned him that it was going to hurt, before spraying the cleaner over his skin, and a shrieking scream left his lips. It was blood-curdling, and you’d never get used to the way your stomach clenched or your teeth ground together when you knew you were causing someone that pain, even if you were trying to help. It would cool, a foam setting over his skin as it dissolved softly, and the pain faded away as the paste helped start to remove trapped heat from his skin, soothing burns and making him slump back a little. “You hear those sirens, real close now. They’re for you.”

He only nodded, before a hand was finding your shoulder, and Chuck was pulling you back a little, much to your confusion.

“What is it, Chuck? I need to get him loaded onto an ambo’.”

“No, you need to come with me.” Your brows furrowed, his hands finding your wrist, and as the ambulance pulled up, you caught sight of another paramedic, one you’d seen around the halls at the hospital, flagging them down to where the man was as they grabbed a board and set off toward him. “Lieutenant has a plan, best we got.”

“Alright, what is it?”

He stopped you before the truck, opening up one of the storage doors on the side, eyes scanning over you for a second, before he was beginning to pull out equipment. “We’re going to extend a ladder from one window to the other, crawl across, and get him. Then, come back across the ladder.”

“That’s a twenty-foot drop, you’d break bones if you fall, maybe even your neck, and the older man in that house won’t be able to balance.”

“He’s going to have to.” Chuck placed a helmet onto your head, wrapping a jacket around your arms, and you barely caught the mask he was pressing into your hands. “You’re going to have to as well, because he’s going to need a medical check.”

“A medical check? The man won’t even be conscious with the amount of gas built up in there!”

“Good thing you’re coming then. Do your job well, save his life.” The static-covered voice over the radio called out, and you glared at the device, jaw clenching at the insinuation that you ever did anything less than your best. Gally and Winston were unloading a manual ladder from the truck, setting off into the house with it, and you gulped as you felt your friend's hands move along the front of the jacket to fasten it up. Pants came next, a large pair of baggy and protective pants, stepping into them as he held them out to you, as fear filled your body at the idea of having to crawl from one burning building and into another. “Hurry up and get her kitted, Chuck, we don’t have all day! Floors getting weaker up here by the second.”

He followed with boots, a little too big for your feet but they would do, your sneakers left discarded on the floor beside you as he laced them up, and you forced yourself to be strong, just like everybody else had been today. Leaning down to take the radio and make sure it was on for you to speak into, you found yourself rearing into action. “I’m going to get a neck brace from our ambo’ and a blackboard, our best bet is to just slide him across it while he’s unconscious, like a conveyor belt, fastest way.”

“I’ll get you two men and we’ll call in for a third ambo’ to collect him.” Thomas confirmed, and you tried to get used to walking in the heavy material, feeling like your body was being weighed down by all the gear. Newt was just getting himself ready to leave for the hospital, closing up the back of the ambulance, and his eyes scanned over you before a cheeky grin was taking place.

“Wow, look at you. Hot date?”

“Yeah, real hot.” You muttered, jabbing a finger over your shoulder. “I need the backboard and the neck brace, I’ll meet you back at the station, alright?”

He only nodded his head, hanging both pieces of equipment to you and sealing up the van, but before you’d managed to catch sight of the smile that John had sent you, his wife petting their daughter’s hair as they were confirmed to all be alright.

Chuck checked your mask, turned on your tank, and a rush of pure air filled your lungs as you took a breath, before the helmet was being placed over your head, and you already felt like you were burning up from the inside out. You’d dashed into a burning building before, hopped up on adrenaline and desperation, but this somehow felt different.

Like an out of body experience as you felt the wooden flooring chip under your feet, crunching as it burned away to ash, the actors half-fallen apart, and Chuck guided you upstairs slowly the bottom of the house utterly destroyed. Brenda met you at the top, her hands held out for you to take, her fingers wrapping around your forearms as you reciprocated, and she eased you the rest of the way up.

Minho was next, visible through his mask as you got closer, and he nodded his head to you, hands holding firmly onto the hose as he tried to get control over the building once again. It felt odd, like you were walking in one of those simulation arcade attractions or playing a video game, every movement you made never feeling like your own through the layers of equipment.

The ladder was already set up, balancing precariously from one window ledge to the other.

The one opposite you seemed much more secure, not yet tarnished by flames, whereas this one was uneven, the end being held down by Gally, and all the men in the room stood a little teller, springing to action as you reserved. “About time.”

“I was doing my best.” You sneered, brown eyes rolling a little at you through the cover of the glass. Gally took the board from you, tying a piece of rope to each end of it, and checking the length, and you wandered over to the window ledge, looking out and peering down at the grass below.

“I’m going to go over fist, and secure it at the other end for you, then you come over. We get him on the board, send him back. Gally and Chuck will take him out to the ambo’. You’ll go across next, Minho will hold the ladder for you, and I’ll come last, you got it?”

You could only nod your head, feeling like the information was going in one ear and out of the other, and your head spun a little as you watched Thomas climb up and out of the window, crawling his way across the divide in a fast shuffle, no hesitation present, jumping right into the action.

He pried the window open, a precarious balancing act that made your breath hitch in your throat as the ladder-bridge wobbled, before he was slipping inside. Turning back and waving his hands out, Gally sent the board across, a piece of string pulled tighter, and now, you understood what the string had been for, the length reaching all the way from one house to the other, even when the board was taken inside and laid on the floor.

You were next, hands placed on the edge of the window, and jumping back a little as still fighting flames from the lower floors roared up at you. Your back pressed to Gally’s chest, and he placed a shoulder on your upper arm, the tank between you both that had collided with his chest making him huff, but he squeezed reassuringly and pushed your forward again.

“Any time today would be great, (Y/L/N).”

“I’m fucking scared, okay? Give me a damn minute, this isn’t what I do, I don’t go into the fires!” You yelled, hands forming fists as you tried to contain yourself, and Thomas didn’t say anything else after that. You climbed up, one knee pressed to metal that was already beginning to get warm, you could feel it through the protective pants you wore, and your hands sealed around the edges. Bringing the other own up, you found yourself kneeling over a twenty-foot drop directly into a fire from two windowsills, one of which was crumbling. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..”

“You’re doing great, alright?”

His voice was much softer this time, your head snapping up, and while one hand was still holding onto the ladder, the other was reaching out, pointing a little ahead of one of your hands.

“One rung at a time, alright? You can do this, c’mon. This man needs your help.”

The brace you had clipped to your back swung a little, your body moving as your instinct to catch it kicked in, and the ladder rocked, a small shriek leaving your lips. The encouragement he gave you was a nice alternative to the constant feuding, but it was more the other words he’d said that gave you the confidence to go on. Someone’s life was in your hands, and you’d be damned if you took so long being scared that he died before you could help him. Picking up motion, you did as he said, one rung at a time as you moved out toward the middle of the ladder.

“That’s it, nice work.” He nodded, pointing at other spots to put your hands, before lifting his own, offering a thickly gloved hand to you, and you hesitated for only a moment, pausing, before reaching out to take it, and he gripped onto you tightly. “See? I got you, you’re fine.”

He tugged you closer, inching you the rest of the way forwards, and helping you down from the window at the other side, until you were balancing on your feet again. This room wasn’t yet on fire, but smoke was filling it, beginning to seep between the floorboards as an ominous and foreboding orange glow was present, the floor burning away beneath your very feet.

As told, there he was, the old man on his bed, looking as peaceful as though he were sleeping, and you made your way over to him. Smoothing along his body, you tried lifting one of his eyelids, barely being able to get a soft grip through the gloves, and struggling to hold down the tip of your keychain flashlight.

“I can’t do a damn thing with these stupid gloves on!”

“Don’t you da-” You didn’t care, stripping them off and pushing them into his hands as you hissed, not having realised just how much these clothes were shielding you from, the heat in the room almost unbearable on your flesh as your skin tingled. Checking his eyes and his pulse, you found movement of his pupils, slower than ideal but still there, and a low but prominent pulse under his skin.

“He’s okay, we’re all good here.” Thomas only nodded his head, handing the gloves back to you urgently, and moving to unclip the neck support from your pack as you worked. Sealing the plastic contraption around his neck to keep his head secure, you rolled him onto his side, the board coming next, rope beginning to pull tighter as you tried to cross the room to reach him, before finally getting him situated.

Strapped down and sealed on tight, you helped Thomas begin to place him delicately on the ladder, and once again fear was taking you over completely. There were flashing cameras, a group of people far bigger than it had been when you were on the street, and a final ambulance ready to offer assistance.

“That’s a lot of people.” You mumbled, feeling a hand on your shoulder as Thomas pulled you back and away from the window.

“Then don’t look.” He tossed you a glance, before helping Gally begin to inch the man across the bridge, rope always pulled tight to keep him secure, and it felt like lifetimes passed as you watched him go, inch by inch, until Chuck was taking a hold of the top half, pulling it further inside until Gally could take the other, and just like that, the man was safe.

Minho took their place, the man on the stretcher disappearing into the smoke with both of the taller firefighters as Thomas was stuck with you, and you shook yourself out, trying to rid yourself of tension and patting yourself down to check everything was okay.

“Don’t pay any attention to them, okay?” Hands found your arms, turning you to look at him, looking up through the glass to find his eyes. “They’re a distraction, just focus on my voice, and Minho’s voice, that’s it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You ready?”

You weren’t sure you’d ever really be ready to crawl over a pit of fire on an unstable bridge between two burning buildings, but you nodded anyway, and climbed up onto the frame. One inch at a time, you made your way across, whimpering a little under your breath with every shake and jolt it made as the windowsill finally started to collapse. You wanted to be fast but cautious, keeping it steady without freezing up, and there was a point in the middle where the hands Thomas had placed on your hips to keep you steady slipped away, but you were not yet in reach of Minho, and you were completely on your own.

Two feet, and then you’d be able to reach Minho, to let him pull you inside and back to reasonable safety, and you were pretty sure that after this, you were never going to be offering to go into a burning building again. One foot, and Minho was lifting his hands up to you, the gentle but firm mumblings to hurry up echoing from Thomas, and then a hand wrapped around yours, giving you the confidence and security to speed up.

When your feet finally touched the ground once again, you were letting out a happy sigh, a kind of high racing through your system at the relief of being safe once again making you feel like you could float in clouds. You turned back, watching Thomas adjust his gloves, the flames in the room behind him beginning to grow as the floorboards started to give way at the cracks, and Minho was holding the ladder secure, but the flames were growing higher, and the charred wood was beginning to give way.

“Lieutenant, you need to speed up, this window is going to give way soon.”

“My glove won’t tie.” He muttered, trying the toggle again, but the plastic clip seemed to have snapped, and as he tried to fasten it again, the creaking of the wood made his head snap up. Surveying the scene, the ladder was already sitting at a slightly uneven angle now, and you swallowed thickly at the sight, now wishing you’d had the bravery to move a little faster. “Right, well, guess we’re going as it is.”

Climbing his way up onto the bars, his body was tilted, slumping a little towards the flames as the team below moved the hose, trying to spray the flames enough to keep them down, but without creating smoke that would blind him. Stepping back, you crossed your arms over your chest, anxiety taking over, and you brought a thumb up to your mouth to chew on the nail from habit. Your thumb hit against the glass of your mask, a low curse on your lips as a single strike of pain moved along your arm.

Thomas was only halfway across, before the ladder was shaking again, a chunk of burned wood falling away as the ladder shuddered and fell, falling onto its side a little further, and Thomas had only stuck to the rung by hooking each foot into the rungs, body leaning into the flames a little more. The sirens, the ambulance pulling away and the shouts of those outside, the burning of flames, creaking of wood, spraying of water, all fell away. It was terrifying, to think that if you had just moved a little fast he could be back by now, if you’d made it to the door to leak the gas faster, or notice the neighbour a little sooner that nobody would have been on a ladder at all.

“Thomas, hurry up!”

“Yeah, thanks for that, I was thinking I’d take it even slower!” He huffed into the comm, and you weren’t sure where your own words had come from, but the desperation and fear of losing a team member had you on edge.

The window was giving easy, the closer he got and the more weight was on that spot, the more it began to crumble, and you saw it give way before it registered, Minho’s hands leaving the handles of the ladder to grab for Thomas, and you heard the grunt he let out as the side of his body collided with the building.

The ladder clattered to the ground outside, and just like that, plumes of smoke were rising as the flames were finally put out, black clouds rising up and blocking your view of the other house as an acrid smell filled the air. Minho had one hand, pulling him, up, and the other latched onto the windowsill, scrabbling. His wrist was exposed, a raw gap between the sleeve and the glove that wouldn't fasten, and you managed to find action on shaky legs, stepping forwards and wrapping your hands around his wrists, helping to pull him up and through the window, protecting the exposed patch.

He rolled over the floor, a loud banging as he collapsed down onto it, splayed out across the floor and relieved. One hand lay across his chest, and your legs felt weak and wobbly from the exertion and adrenaline of the day, and you leaned on the wall for support. Minho patted at your shoulder, a weak laugh on his lips, and the floorboards and you creaked with the weight of Thomas shifting, before you could sense eyes on you, cracking them open to see him standing before you.

“Go, c’mon. This house is still dangerous, you need to get out.”

You nodded, body trembling a little as you tried to control it, following in his steps as he led the way, thick smoke and glowing ass as the house was destroyed, melted plastic and synthetics, like some kind of horror scene, and you supposed that, in a way, it was. When your feet finally found the grass again, you stripped your helmet off from your head, mask following, a gasping breath as you felt the cool breeze sweeping over your skin, and you felt practically layered in sweat. Making your way back to where your pack and your shoes were still laying by one of the firetrucks, you leaned against it, sinking down to the floor as you finally let the tension go.

Your elbows propped up on bent knees, holding up your head as it fell forwards, and you let out a shaky breath, finding that you weren’t a fan of the fire scene. It wasn’t what you were used to, last-minute decisions in burning houses weren’t your forte. You were good with medicine, and you knew how to save lives, that was your skill. Burning buildings and heights over a sinister drop to your death, not so much.

A scuffing sounded beside you, and you looked up, frowning at Thomas as he let his jacket fall down his arms, the red and burned flesh of his wrists shown to you more obviously. He placed it back inside, before turning to you, hand held out to take your helmet and mask from you, silently as he put them back in the correct places within the van. Next up was your jacket, and you stretched your legs out before yourself to lean forwards and strip it off, handing it up to him, and shivering and the sudden cold that took you over as you were down the layer you’d grown accustomed to.

Leaning forwards to undo the boots, you pulled one foot forward, beginning to struggle with the laces that Chuck had down for you, unbelievably tight, and huffing as you finally got it untangled. “You did good in there.”

You paused from where you were loosening the laces down, turning to look up at him, and he wasn’t paying any attention to you, but he did catch your eye for a split second. “Thank you. I hated every second of it.”

His lips flicked up at the sides, and he nodded his head, moving to take a seat in front of you, and pulling your other foot to sit before him on the concrete and beginning to undo the knots. “I can tell, but you pulled through as a part of the team, it was good work.”

“I think this is the longest you’ve ever been nice to me.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m simply giving you feedback. If I wanted to be nice to you, I would be.” He muttered, pulling both boots from your feet and standing back up, leaving you to wince as your heels hit the ground, a shock running up the nerves along your legs. “Hurry up and get yourself up, Brenda is already rolling up the hose, we’re going to leave soon. You’ll have to get a lift back with us.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant.” Your eyes rolled, standing up to push the baggy pants down your legs, leaving you once again in your paramedic trousers, and kicking them off at your ankles, leaving them in a pile at his feet, a sickly sweet smile on your lips as you bent to collect your bag and your shoes. “I’ll get a lift with Truck.”

You gave him a small salute, walking right past him as his stare flickered between you and the pile of clothing, a growl on his lips, but you were already walking away from him. Gally was more than happy to offer you a lift, holding open the back of the truck, and settled down into the leather seats, the smell of sweat and burn lingering in the cabin. Tying up one shoe, you switched feet, sorting the other out, before slumping into the chair.

Fry was the first back, up into the front seat as he restarted the vehicle, the engine under your feet chugging to life, and as the humming of the engine started up, the pounding behind your eyes becoming apparent, rubbing at your eyes as they closed. Winston was next, sliding into the seats opposite you, Clint following, and you slumped out as they began to discuss the day.

It had been exhausting, everything in you was screaming out for sleep, and with only a few hours left of your shift, you knew you would be collapsing into sleep from the moment you got home tonight. The day had been taxing both mentally, physically and emotionally, and as Chuck squeezed in beside you, your head fell to his shoulder.

“You’re all sweaty.” You grumbled, and he only laughed, the vehicle charging into motion once Gally was in the front seat and the rest of the Truck team were on board, your eyes sliding closed.

The journey seemed to slip away, the headache in your skull pounding away, and you managed to find your phone in your backpack, bringing it up at one point to text Newt and find out where he was, only to discover he'd been back at the Firehouse for almost half an hour, and was probably eating the cereal bars you’d hidden.

The time slipped away, and you felt as though you’d almost drifted off, against your own intentions, jerking up a little as the truck came to a halt.

“You’re tired, huh?”

“Yes.” You muttered, groaning as you forced yourself to your feet and stepped down from the platform of the truck, leaving the men to swap out their shoes and hang up their equipment, and Newt had his arms held out to you with a grin on his face, cooing at you as you stumbled forward. “Stop making fun of me.”

“Someone looks exhausted!” He practically sang the words, and you groaned, slumping into him as his arms wrapped around you, and he laughed in your ear while rubbing a hand up and down your back. He eased you for a second, going quiet as he held you, before pulling back, and squeezing at your arms. “How’s that headache?”

“Raging.”

“I got you some painkillers out.” He mumbled, one arm wrapping over your shoulders and guiding you over to the truck. He had a hot bucket of disinfectant and the mop, and as well as all the cleaning equipment, the smell of chemicals already present and showing off that he’d already started on the work to be done. “If you keep me company, I’ll clean the ambo’.”

“You’re a blessing.” He only nodded, handing you two tablets and a plastic cup of water, you chugged them down, all but crawling through the van to slump into the front seat, legs curled up a little as you rested against the still warm fabric.

The rhythmic motions of the mop along the floor created a soft noise, one that was steady enough to lull you into sleep, and even from in here, you could hear the loud ticking of the clock on the wall outside, every single second passing by being counted off in your head as you matched your heartbeat to it.

“Newt, I need a favour.” You groaned, keeping it internal as you bit on the inside of your cheek at the grating sound of a voice belonging to the person you arguably despised most in the world right now. “I got a little burned up, so I need some treatment.”

“I’m busy right now, Tommy. (Y/N) can do it.”

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ll just wait.” You cowered a little behind your chair as you hoped Newt would let him go, but your meddling blond friend tutted his lips, putting down the mop, and you already knew what was coming.

“Not with those burns you won’t. You don’t mind, right, love?”

“I really, really do mind.” You raised a hand over your head, flipping the pair off, but waiting only a second longer, before standing up. Making your way through the vehicle, you were at least feeling a little better, even if the weight of the equipment you’d worn, the heat and the terrifying near-death experience was still making you feel physically drained, your almost-nap and painkillers had taken care of you mentally. “Fine, but you can come here. I’m not standing up.”

You collapsed down on the edge of the van, a white vest-clad chest filling your view as he came to stand before you, and you reached for your bag, Grabbing at the medkit inside, Newt snorted, hopping down and moving away to empty the mop bucket, whistling obnoxiously. Pulling on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, you wiggled your fingers a little, latex snapping against your wrist as you let the edge go, before moving onto the job at hand.

Doing an assessment of his injuries, you sighed, letting his hand go to sit in the space between you both, to find both the types of disinfectant. Holding up one canister and one clear bottle, a coppery coloured liquid inside, he looked between them both, brows furrowed, before looking back to you. “Which do you want?”

“What’s the difference?”

“This one-” You held up the can, shaking it a little. “-is a foam, it stings a bit more, but it makes a cool covering that makes it feel better. But this one-” You shook the bottle, the liquid inside sloshing a little as a layer of bubbles built up. “-is just a liquid, doesn’t hurt as much, but won’t take the heat out.”

“I literally could not care less. I just want to get something to eat, and go back to sleep.” You shrugged, grabbing a pad of cotton and tipping some of the liquid onto it, making sure the soft bundle was soaked enough, before folding his fingers into a fist, and beginning to clean at the skin, ignoring the hiss on his lips.

“I made you a plate of food, from breakfast this morning. It’s in the fridge.”

You jumped a little as you heard the aww-ing from across the room, both of your heads turning to look at Newt as he leaned on the cabinets not far away, arms crossed over his chest as he was busy with absolutely fuck-all, and you scowled at him.

“You made me food?”

Thomas’ voice was whispered, and you only glanced up at him for a second, before dipping your head in a series of slow nods, confirming his question, and reaching for some burn cream. Smearing it on your fingers, you rubbed it against the back of your hand, warming it up until it was longer as stiff, and rubbing it onto his skin.

“Thanks, that was nice of you.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m simply doing my job.” The neutral expression on his face dropped into a scowl as you grinned, using his own words against him. Switching to a set of wrappings, you adjusted his arm in front of you, placing the edge of the gauze between his thumb and forefinger, you sealed it down over unblemished skin with bandage tape. “You know, it’s actually in my job description to keep the firefighters in peak health.”

With each layer of bandaging, you added a layer of cooling spray, and he grunted under his breath. “You couldn't just accept a compliment?”

“Well, you made it very clear that we aren’t nice to one another.”

“You’re being petty.” He grouched, snatching his hand back from you as soon as the wrapping was sealed up, one more glare at you before he was glaring at Newt, and walking back out of the room and ignoring you both, especially Newt’s laughing. He made his way over to you, still cracking up, his hand wrapped around his stomach, and you raised a brow at him as you began to pack everything away.

“What’s so funny, chuckles?”

“You and Thomas. Your bickering,” You turned to him, shaking your head as you tried to find an argument for his meddling, and pulling off the gloves from your hands. “You’re like a married couple.”

“If married couples argued like Thomas and I did, they’d be getting divorced.”

“I don’t even think you know what you’re arguing about anymore. You’re just getting at each other, now.” He shrugged, pulling you up from where you were sitting, in order to lock up the doors of the ambulance. “You just got off on the wrong foot, but mark my words, you won’t hate each other forever. I already know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Newt.”

[f-o-r-g-e-t-m-e-n-0-t]

Axel was not okay.

Sure, he wore the skin of a man keeping it together. They’d ask “how are you doing?” and he’d say he’s “doing just fine” when in reality he was a man held together by duct tape and chewing gum and a rediscovered smoking habit.

623 days.

Six hundred and twenty three days.

Axel kept count.

His friends told him he looked well, lately. That he stood a little taller. That he looked grounded. They purposefully didn’t look at the gold band still on his finger. They didn’t ask about his work.

Axel had quit the Institute. He was being rash, he was having a breakdown, he’d regret it once the world settled around him. That’s what they all told him. It was such a great honor to work there, according to everyone else. Axel had thought that way too, once upon a time.

Six hundred and twenty three days ago.

Axel didn’t trust the Institute anymore. The name tasted like bile on his tongue, it’s pristine halls were glorified prisons. Eyes watched him, he was sure. They wouldn’t tell him anything. He had a right to know and they wouldn’t tell him anything! They just filled him with empty platitudes about how sorry they were for his loss...

His loss.

How patronizing.

Everyone ignored it. People went missing all the time now, each a mini tragedy that was chalked up to natural reasons and forgotten by the world at large.

Deja vu was a daily occurrence for everyone. No one talked about it. Nor did they talk about the things only seen from the corner of your eye, or how you would be so sure some everyday object was... different. Exactly the same, yet not. Replaced, somehow, by a perfect replica that could fool the eye, but you knew. You always knew. But you didn’t mention it.

People ignored the way the sky would sometimes shift and bend, like cellophane pulled and twisted by greedy hands. Axel wondered when it would break – he was sure it eventually would – and what would come pouring into their world that had previously been kept just behind the blue.

623 days.

Everything was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

An no one mentioned it. Pretended not to see. The same way they pretended not to see the way Axel still kept two pairs of shoes by the door. Two coffee mugs on the kitchen counter. Two toothbrushes in the bathroom.

A wedding ring on his left hand.

Six hundred and twenty three days. That’s how long he’d been alone. That’s when his world had fallen apart.

That’s when-

“Hey, Axel.” A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder, pulling Axel from his thoughts.

Axel blinked rapidly and pulled his eyes away from his computer screen. “Morning, boss.”

Barret was a mountain of a man. Tall, imposing, and built like a brick house. He could easily snap Axel’s skinny body in half, if Barret weren’t, in reality, such a softie. The man had taken Axel into when he needed it most. Practically grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled his drunken ass in to the little group he’d formed.

“Heard ya used to work for the Institute. We could use a brain like yours. Now, don’t lookit’ me that way, I – we – understand. We know what you’re goin’ through, kid. It’s hard. You ain’t obligated to do anything, but at the very least, come see what we’re about.”

Axel had done just that, and accepted his position on the spot.

Their team was small. Underground and secretive in their work. They didn’t even have a name, just a common goal.

Axel found he fit in with the band of misfits. They were all like him, eyes opened to the world around him, and disillusioned to its lies.

He was grateful to the team. After departing the Institute, he’d spent his time alone, isolated, running himself thin. When he wasn’t working, he was drinking into oblivion. When he wasn’t drinking into oblivion, he was working. He often had more cigarette smoke in his system than food.

The team gave him some stability. A sense that he belonged. That he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t crazy. He couldn’t say he was terribly close with any of them — though some were certainly more friendly than others — but their presence was grounding and reassuring all the same.

And they were all looking for something. Someone.

Yuna’s boyfriend had gone missing two years prior. Lightning’s sister just a little longer than that. Prompto was looking for his best friend – a senator’s son, shockingly enough. Balthier was looking for his ‘partner in crime’, though Axel suspected there was more to the relationship than the man let on.

Barret probably had it the hardest. His young daughter had been missing for four years. It had been the driving force behind him starting up his little venture in the first place.

And Axel? Well...

“I’m sending you, Lightning, and Prompto out to the Western Wilds today,” Barret said. “Big energy flux out there.

With a nod and no questions asked, Axel grabbed his things and prepared to depart.

The Western Wilds had been beautiful once. Rolling green hills interspersed with the occasional grove of lush green trees. Blue skies that stretched on for miles. It had been left largely uncultivated, and instead acted as a nature preserve and wildlife park. There’d been a time when Axel, like many others, enjoyed weekend getaways there to camp or hike and simply ‘be one with nature.’

Now, it felt broken. Damaged. Strange rifts had opened up there, distorting the once beautiful and safe landscape. People couldn’t ignore the rifts as much as they did everything else, so they opted to abandon the place altogether. Retreat to the cities and their illusion of safety. Axel supposed be couldn’t blame them, there. Even much of the wildlife had fled.

It had become a routine place for the team to investigate because of the strange rifts. Surely it held answers for them. Surely it was connected to everything else so broken and wrong with their reality.

It’s distorted landscape was familiar enough, but as Axel and his companions hiked out onto the rolling fields, it felt... different. The air felt sharp, and something hummed in Axel’s veins.

Next to him, even the usually chatty Prompto had fallen quiet, camera gripped tightly in his hands, a thumb playing nervously with a dial. Lightning was never chatty, but there was a sharpness in her gaze. A tenseness in her shoulders. Something was different today.

It didn’t take them long to find their target, the cause of the energy flux. Cresting over a hill, the team spotted it immediately.

What had once been a small grove of trees, mercifully untouched by the schisms, was now a rats’ nest of distortions. Axel could hardly focus his eyes on the place. It was a smeared painting of what had once been trees. Leaves vibrated to the point of blurring, or seemed to flicker in and out of existence entirely. The very air around it warped and bent, like heat rising off asphalt. A strange black substance, so dark it absorbed light, oozed from bark like poisoned sap.

It was unlike any distortion they’d seen before.

Next to him, in a hushed voice, Prompto asked, “What on Earth is that?”

No one answered him. They had no answer to give.

Slowly, cautiously, they carried their equipment down the hill and approached the rift-torn-grove. The air buzzed as they picked their way between trees, closer and closer to the source of the distortion.

They knew it when they saw it, as it was unlike anything Axel had seen before. The very space seemed cracked, like a broken mirror, and reality sat disjointed and askew. A deep void in the center of the breakage, swirling black, and Axel felt the very blood in his veins pulled towards it.

The rifts of the Western Wilds often distorted and broke the landscape. None had such a... hole in them.

They stopped a few feet away, not daring to move any closer, and unloaded their equipment.

Every member on the team had their own theory to the distortions. A rift in time, from the future or the past. A tie to another reality altogether. Even a sentient being, or collection of beings caught in space time. No one theory prevailed above the others, but neither had any been ruled out.

Attempting communication with them or whatever was on the other side was one of their key goals, and since Axel had been working on doing just that before joining the team, he was in charge of continuing that work.

His equipment worked to record any transmission received from the rifts, where Axel would take them back to the lab to decipher what – if anything — they relayed.

He also sent his own messages out to the rifts, hoping something — someone — might pick it up.

His messages were wide and varied. Greetings in numerous languages. Speeches, Morse code, music. One song in particular was his favorite. It had been their song. Axel hoped that maybe it would reach, well...

It was one of multiple messages he’d use today. His teammates had their work as well. Prompto snapped photos and recorded video of the odd new rift, documenting it from every angle he could safely reach. Lightning surveyed the surrounding area, made notes of the trees, the plants, the soil, the wildlife – or lack thereof.

Axel’s first transmission went out, the sound oddly muffled and muted in the warped air around them. If Axel didn’t know better — and maybe he didn’t — he could have sworn the very sound and frequency was pulled into the void itself. He sent it out a second time, but his machines recorded no response.

A second, a third, a fourth, and a fifth all went out the same way, and all were greeted with silence from the other side. Axel couldn’t say he was surprised. Disappointed maybe, but this had long since become routine. He’d become used to the lack of a breakthrough.

He was nothing on his own. A bitter thought really, one that burned like bile. Smart? Capable? Hard working? Yes. But brilliant? No. Brilliant had been... brilliant was when they were together. Two minds working as one, filling in for and lifting up the other. Brilliant was-

With a sigh, Axel prepped the last message to be sent off to the void. His song — their song. The soft melody drifted up and out, bittersweet these days but no less lovely to Axel’s ears. He had almost let himself drift away with the music, when a loud ringing echoed through the grove. A sharp ping, like a glass being struck, so clear and loud compared to all other muted and warped sound.

All three members of the group stopped and, after a moment’s pause Lightning and Prompto rejoined Axel’s side. He could practically feel the questions on their tongues, but neither spoke, as all three simply waited with baited breath.

As they hoped, there was another loud ring. It came from the void and Axel’s equipment at once, as though the two were linked and communicating somehow. His heart stuttered in his chest at the revelation. Something had made contact! Something had made contact!

The next ring that came stretched into a long note, and Axel realized it was in tune with the music. A little warbly and distorted, but sure enough, there was a second song playing along with his own.

Axel didn’t have time to process that thought before the music began to get louder, and louder. Shrill and ringing it sliced through the crackling air, and sent the three team members to their knees. They covered their ears as the whole world vibrated around them, like a struck tuning fork. Cracks in the sky and the air splintered out, slicing reality like so much broken glass. Just when Axel thought they couldn’t take much more, it stopped.

The air went quiet and still.

Looking up, Axel saw the void had changed. The hole, the rift, had gotten wider. The dark expanse beyond it now seeped out, rolling like fog and dripping like oil. Where once the world had bent and pulled in towards toward the rift, now whatever was on the other side seemed to bulge and push back out.

The three held their breath as they watched, as silent and still as the air around them.

Movement. A shape, dark and cloaked in shadows, or rather, dripping with them. Inky black and moving oddly as it emerged from the void. It took a moment for Axel realize there was solid form at all beneath the darkness.

It shambled, staggered, then righted itself, moving like something injured or exhausted beyond reason. Perhaps both. All the while, the black substance sloughed off it like so much rotten skin. As more fell, the shape beneath was revealed.

They were human, or at least, human-esque.

Another stagger, and an arm raised to wipe away more of the inky black substance. It fell away with ease, leaving the person beneath it clean where Axel would have assumed them stained in black.

Each bit that fell away revealed more of the person beneath. Tanned skin, muscular arms. A tattered top, and dark, worn-in boots. Blond hair.

Axel tried to swallow the odd lump that had formed in his throat as his own heart threatened to beat out of his chest. He was standing, equipment dropped and forgotten on the grassy earth. Next to him, his team members called his name, but they sounded so far away. So unimportant. All Axel could focus on was the figure before him.

623 days.

Another step, and the man faltered, exhaustion finally taking its toll. He fell, one leg giving way, then two, before he slumped to the ground entirely.

Axel was running before he knew it, the frantic calls of Lightning and Prompto far, far behind him. He skidded to the ground next to the fallen, unconscious man.

With shaking hands and held breath, Axel brushed blond hair aside to behold the familiar face. Tanned skin. Freckles. Hidden eyes that Axel knew to be blue. A wedding ring on one finger.

Six hundred and twenty three days since he’d gone missing, disappeared like so many others. Six hundred and twenty three days that Axel had waited, and hoped, and searched, and now...

Axel’s husband was home.

Roxas was home.

[connorandersons-blog]

Kinktober Day 4: Public, Convin

Another Connor/Gavin! So this one is super long, like 10k words, so if you want you can also read it here on my A03. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

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They were on a vacation, well, it was a forced vacation but still. The whole office had gotten tired of their shit, and Connor often heard people (including Hank) murmuring about tension and rooms. 

They were even getting paid too, so it wasn't like he could even complain so much. He could complain because instead of just going to some beach and staying far away from each other as possible, Gavin (and Hank, and Tina, and literally everyone who heard) decided it was best to go on a road trip. Across the entire country, stopping to visit tourist stops or sleep. 

So that was why Connor was sitting in the passenger seat of Gavin's truck-a 1990 Ford F150 XLT-his arms crossed staring out the window. 

The silence was so awkward even with Gavin's music playing, and he had no idea what to do. He could fall back on his programming, but he wasn't going to resort to being a machine just because someone couldn't stop being an ass for two seconds. 

This was probably the longest he's been silent and they'd only been on the road for an hour. 

It was simultaneously the most boring and interesting trip he'd been on. He hadn't gotten to travel outside of Detroit except for when he was briefly flown to DC. That had been an interesting and incredibly stressful trip that he never wanted to repeat again.

He had a feeling this would be a similar situation sadly. His first real vacation and he had to take it with Reed of all people. Why did the universe seem to hate him so much?

The silence kept up for the next four hours, but at least the scenery was nice. He gently drummed his fingers against his leg, enjoying the music. Another small thing to be grateful for, Gavin didn't have awful music tastes. 

"That's it. You've never been on a road trip right?" Gavin asked so suddenly Connor almost jumped out of his skin. 

He looked over but Gavin's eyes were still trained on the road. Connor wasn't exactly sure where this was going, but perhaps he could indulge him. "I have not."

"Ok, so we're gonna play the ABC game. You can't use cars, only signs. When you see a letter you call it out. It's whoever sees it first, and you can't use a sign twice. If it's the same sign but in a different place then that's fine. No using your weird android powers." Gavin drummed on the steering wheel once he turned down the music. "If I gotta be stuck in this car with you you're gonna have the full experience." 

Connor blinked multiple times, trying to take it all in. A game? He did a quick search and found they were incredibly common and used to pass the time or stay focused. "Very well, that sign there has an A." He points out. 

Gavin huffed and looked around, squinting slightly. "B! Hah!" 

Connor couldn't help the small grin as he put his feet on the ground and leaned forward. He was so going to win this game. 

They called out the letters sometimes loud enough to be considered yelling. It was more of a competition than a calming game. Yet it got increasingly difficult and it had both of them dying to see any sign.

It was only three more hours later when Gavin and he both pointed at the same sign, "Z!" 

There was a long bit of silence before they both broke into cheers, clapping, and even giving each other small pushes on the shoulder. 

"Fuck yeah! Alright, so I'm thinking some food, bathroom then keep going. You can drive and pick the music." Gavin said, more lively than he'd ever seen him. 

Connor felt something odd in his chest, something he didn't dare identify. Yet it was so strong when he watched Reed. "Very well, but I do not need food or a bathroom break. How much longer would you like for me to drive. Since I'm an android I can keep going without becoming tired." 

Gavin easily waved him off. "Not long, just enough to get us until nightfall, then we can find some shitty motel. Just don't want to get burnt out on the first day." 

Connor gave a soft hum and leaned back onto the chair. "I must admit, I'm surprised you chose this over a beach or something like that." 

Gavin chuckles and Connor's stomach twisted. "Yeah, well… I've been meaning to but never had the time. They're literally paying me to babysit you." 

He could tell there was no real malice behind his words, yet he could also tell he was lying. Why would Gavin feel the need to lie about this answer, it wasn't anything truly personal. 

Yet he'd let it slide, maybe this trip would somehow work out their differences. After he could ask again, and maybe he'd give an honest answer. 

But it was still a bit odd Gavin lied. He often didn't and so he always took note when he did. Sometimes it was hard to tell and he assumed there was more to it than just yes or no. Like when he asked if Gavin really hated androids and Gavin had said yes. It came off as a lie but also the truth. 

They pulled off the highway once there were signs of there actually being something to eat that Gavin liked. 

Gavin gave a long sigh as they waited for the drive-through, but thankfully they didn't have to wait too terribly long. 

"Ok, you want anything? 'Know you don't eat but still. A soda, anything?" Gavin asked once they pulled up to the order screen. 

Connor looked over the menu before giving a small hum. "A small drink, surprise me." He could drink, not in excessively but more than he could actually eat. Sadly the place didn't offer android products, so he'd have to stick with a drink. 

Gavin nodded and ordered his, but made Connor plug his hears and hum. Apparently, he wanted to test to see how well Connor could identify the drink without using his 'android powers'. 

He even had to keep his eyes closed as Gavin got their order and paid (Connor offered to but got turned down fast), taking his food and drink, putting them down before parking. 

"Alrighty, open your mouth, and you can't use your tongue." Gavin said, tapping Connor's chin. 

"Technology I have to use my-" but he was cut off by a straw being shoved into his mouth. He could hear Gavin snickering so he just held the straw in his mouth, playing with it. 

There was a soft sound of Gavin's breath catching and the hand lowering. Connor was quick to grab the drink, just in case, but instead, he hand rested on top of Gavin's. 

He took a long sip, eyes still closed. He hadn't tasted many sodas yet this one didn't taste exactly like any of the ones he had. "Pepsi?" Yet that couldn't be right. 

"Open your eyes now, dipshit." Gavin moved his hand away and let Connor hold it. "You got it wrong, by the way. But you can use your tongue now." 

Connor nodded and instantly analyzed it before sighing. Of course, he didn't recognize the taste. "This is a combination of Pepsi and Rootbeer! That's cheating, Detective." He scolded but still drank more. He had to admit, it did taste really good. 

"Gavin."

"I'm sorry?" 

"Call me Gavin. I don't need to hear my rank the whole trip, and you calling me by my real name isn't going to kill me… Connor." 

He had to admit, it did sound a bit odd coming from Gavin. He could tell he felt the same since he grimaced like he tasted something sour. 

"Very well Gavin. I just assumed you preferred otherwise, since the last time I did use it you tried to kill me." He sassed, smirking slightly. 

Yet Gavin winced and ducked his head. "Yeah… that wasn't my best idea. I'm, well, I'm glad I failed?"

That was as close of an apology as he was probably ever going to get. "I am glad you did too. Though, I do apologize for using excessive force. I could have handled the situation better." He did feel bad about that, he hated to see Gavin passed out on the floor even if he had tried to kill him. He never liked killing or harming anyone, but sometimes it was necessary to protect his own life. 

Gavin snorted then it quickly devolved into honest laughter. Connor was beyond confused but couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. "Wait, what's so funny?" 

"I-I was literally," Gavin tried to say between laughs, "I held a gun to your fucking head, Con. You could have easily killed me but you left me. Sure it hurt like a bitch after, but we're both alive. I deserved more than that very quick fight." 

For some reason, the nickname was more shocking than anything else. It was the first nickname not derived from anger or hate. "I should have just detained you. Or managed to talk you down." 

"The only way you could've talked me down was if you suddenly became deviant." 

Connor frowned and tried to understand what that meant. "Wait, what?" 

Gavin's eyes went wide and he grabbed the bag. "Uh, I'll throw this away, pee then we can get back on the road." 

Connor didn't even have time to ask him to wait before Gavin was out of the car and jogging to the restaurant.

What could Gavin had meant by that? Did he have more negation tactics as a deviant? He couldn't of anything he didn't already know. 

Yet that also offered the idea that Gavin knew about the true meaning of deviation, that he knew it wasn't simple errors but real emotions. 

But that also brought up why Gavin had actually confronted him in the first place. He had assumed it was because Gavin had simply had enough of him and was finally taking his chance. He could have easily used Connor disobeying direct orders to justify it too.

How could him being deviant have stopped Gavin from attacking?

He was shaken from his thoughts when Gavin tapped on his window. Right, he was supposed to drive now. 

They traded spots silently, and Gavin stayed quiet except to softly sing along to the songs. His voice was nice and oddly calming. Connor decided not to sign considering he's never actually done it before. He knew android could, I mean, look at the revolution. Yet he hadn't really done it himself yet. 

He kept driving, following the highway, and only changing directions when Gavin directed him. Connor could tell he was getting sleepy by the adorable why his blinks got longer and the deeper he slid into his chair. 

He didn't even say anything as Connor pulled off the highway and then found a 'shitty motel'.

Gavin's eyes were closed and Connor hated to wake him. He doubted he could sleep heavy enough that Connor could get them each a room, carry Gavin to his without waking him. 

He looked around and found a piece of paper and a pen. He quickly wrote down he was getting them rooms before slipping out of the car. He didn't need Gavin waking up and wondering where he'd gone. 

The lights were on so he walked in, and looked around. Shitty was a pretty good description actually. He didn't even want to scan it to know how many germs there were. 

"How can I help you?" A woman asked, walking into the area, a bright smile on her face. 

"I'd like two rooms please." He stepped up to the counter but thought better of leaning against it. 

"Alright, well we got three rooms, one has two beds and it's non-smoking, and the other two are smoke friendly. Which would'ya like?" 

Connor sighed, rubbing at his LED. He despised the smell of smoke and he knew Gavin had only recently quit. Being in a room full of that smell wouldn't help. And he wanted to get them a room now considering how tired Gavin seems. 

Fuck it. 

"I'll take the room with two please." It was an ok compromise but he doubted Gavin would see it that way. 

The woman nodded and grabbed the keys after Connor had paid for the night. It was pretty cheap, but he guessed it was from lack of quality. 

He jogged back to the trunk, opening to get in and grab his bag, but also wake Gavin. He was slumped against the window, mouth slightly open, and looking completely relaxed. 

"Gavin, come on, we're at a motel." He whispered, reaching out. Instead of shaking his shoulder, Connor's treacherous hands decided to gently card through Gavin's soft hair. Neither of them had styled their hair so it easily flopped into Gavin's face and felt silky smooth under Connor's fingers. 

He wondered if Gavin liked his hair being played with or not. Maybe he liked it tug-no. He was not going down that rabbit hole. 

He quickly snatched his hand away when he saw Gavin's eyes blink open. He looked around then back to Connor with almost a confused expression. "Con?" His voice was a bit scratchy and Connor was ready to die. He just looked so soft like this, so much more at ease. 

"Hey, we're stopping for the night. I got us a room but there was only one left." A small but necessary lie. 

Gavin groaned and mumbled around reading enough fanfiction but he pushed himself up, running his own hand through his hair. "There's more than one bed right?" 

"Of course. I would have carried you but I thought you'd prefer being woken up." He reached behind and grabbed Gavin's bag for him, placing it in his lap before turning off the truck and pocketing the keys. 

Gavin mumbled some more but slid out of the truck with a huff, following silently to the room. 

It wasn't the worst motel, but Connor really hated the number of germs he found. He walked around the room, checking everything before looking out the back window. There was a small stream that flowed behind the building and Connor unlatched the window so they'd be able to hear it. Not necessarily the safest idea, but Connor was there and Gavin could actually take care of himself. 

Gavin dumped his bag onto the beg closest to the door, pulling out a change of clothes before muttering about using the bathroom first. It was almost like he forgot that Connor had absolutely no need for a bathroom. 

He took the time to change, folding his clothes before putting them in his bag. He grabbed his pajama bottoms with cartoon robot heads on them, a gift from Hank. 

He normally went shirtless but thought better of it. Not just for Gavin's sake, but he preferred to cover as much skin as possible before touching anything in this room. 

He was odd that way. He had no problem sampling evidence or putting anything in his mouth he was dared to. Yet on occasions like these, his brain gladly supplied every disgusting thing and it made his skin crawl. 

He heard the shower start but Gavin didn't even take more than ten minutes before he was stepping into the room again. Connor was still standing in front of his bed, fiddling with his bag. Hank had given him a gift but now felt a bit too self-conscious to pull it out. 

"Cute." Gavin mumbled at him before flopping onto his own bed, only taking the time to get under the covers before falling right back asleep. 

Gavin had called him cute. Or maybe it was just the pajama bottoms that were cute, and not him. Or he was simply too tired to know what he was saying, so instead of good night, it came out as cute. 

Yeah, he didn't believe that last one either. 

Connor gave one last look at his bag before zipping it closed. Once he had his own room to himself, then he'd use it. For now, he laid down and let himself be pulled into stasis. 

He woke up fairly early to the sound of Gavin moving around. He was a bit surprised that he hadn't woken up first considering how tired Gavin had seemed the night before. He checked his clock and saw it was only six in the morning. 

Perhaps he often went to bed early, but Connor had noticed he stayed at the precinct almost as long as he did. It was a bit concerning, to say the least. Maybe this trip would give Gavin the extra sleep and relaxation he needed. Surely the man was always on edge with the lack of sleep.

He stretched out on the bed and just listened to the small stream. The bed creaked with every small movement, the germs made his skin crawl, Gavin was the only person he knew for miles, but it wasn't so bad. Oddly freeing in a way. Sure he worried about what was happening back in Detroit, but he trusted Hank not to get into too much of a slump. If he did Connor would be back as soon as he could. 

He let his eyes slipped closed again, but he had to hold his breath when he heard something unexpected. He could hear Gavin singing a song Connor knew had played on the trip here. It was fairly upbeat and he thought he could hear the sound of heavier footsteps, indicating Gavin could be dancing. 

It was oddly charming and the smile on his face only grew wider. It was strange, he knew Gavin was his own person but for some reason now he saw him truly human. He wasn't just a pain in the ass, he sang in the shower and got Connor a soda without a second thought. He was just so… alive. 

Perhaps there was much more to Gavin he'd get to see. The stress of being around peers you'd known for a long time could be hard, but also harder to be able to change because of expectations. Yet everyone was changing constantly, even in little ways. 

Connor had taken to wearing clothes similar to Hank while not at work. He knew he wouldn't stay with that style, but he still had time to learn what was really him. His opinions and taste in certain things would always be influenced by others, even people he'd rather not be influenced by. 

If the world, android, and humans have him a second chance after everything he's done, then Gavin deserved a second chance as well. 

He heard the singing stopped, then the water cutoff, and he kept his eyes closed and body still. He didn't want Gavin to get embarrassed over his bathroom habits since he liked it. It would be a good reminder that Gavin had his own emotions more than anger. 

The door opened and closed incredibly softly. He had to hold back from smiling from the obviousness of Gavin trying to be quiet for Connor. 

"God, can't believe this is real." He heard Gavin mumble as he padded around the room, no doubt trying to find something to do. 

Connor gave it a few minutes before he flashed his LED, mostly to get Gavin's attention as he 'woke up'. 

He stretched once again and let out a long sigh. He took another minute until he opened his eyes. 

He could see out of the corner of his scanners that Gavin seemed to be gawking at him, and could faintly hear his heartbeat speed up. 

Sitting up slowly, he looked around eyes landing on Gavin who snapped out of whatever that was. "Good morning, Det-Gavin. Did you sleep well?" 

Gavin mumbled something and rubbed at the back of his deck, eyes on his lap. "I guess, sorry for passing out on you." 

Connor easily waved him off. "No need, you needed the sleep and I enjoyed driving. Perhaps I can drive for now and then we switch whenever you'd like." 

Gavin nodded and seemed to be thinking hard about something. He wished Gavin had an LED so he had some idea if it was negative or not. 

Connor ran a hand through his hair, giving the curls a slight curl to try and force them into place. He didn't like how much it tangled during the night since deviancy apparently made androids move while asleep. 

"Yeah, ok. But save your energy cause there's something we gotta do tonight." Gavin grabbed his bag and looked around. He hadn't really taken anything out since he'd instantly fallen asleep.

Connor would need to change but otherwise, he was also ready. "Very well, may I ask what we are doing?" 

Gavin smirked and crossed his arms. "No, you may not. You just have to experience it." 

Connor squinted and got up to grab his bag, hiding an honest smile. "I can do that. Excuse me while I change." 

He had no problem changing out in the open but humans and sometimes even bother androids were a bit shy about it. Yet Connor had no problems with it but still went to the bathroom for Gavin's sake.

There was also the matter of Hank's gift he didn't want Gavin to see. He guessed this is probably what humans felt on the subject of nudity. It was truly nothing to be embarrassed about, he knew Markus had a few, and North would never admit it but he knew she had one. He wondered if Gavin had one as well, or perhaps he just didn't find the pleasure in it anymore. 

He pulled it out of his bag so he could get his new clothes, then changed and put it all away again. At least Gavin hadn't asked about why his bag seemed so full when he didn't need much. 

As long as he didn't roll in mud, or somehow get dirty he could wear the same clothes every day if need be. It wasn't like he could sweat (though they were working on that to possibly help to cool). 

When he stepped out Gavin was going through actual stretches, and Connor took a second to appreciate the sight. Sure they may fight and not even like each other, but he'd be blind if he didn't see the man as attractive. 

He obviously kept his body in shape, and with how easily he moved, he stretched quite a lot. It wasn't just the attention, it was almost beautiful to watch as his muscles moved as he changed positions. 

His eyes kept wandering over his body, not having realized he hadn't moved an inch or said anything. Gavin hadn't said anything either as he slowly breathed through each stretch. 

Then he shook himself out and looked at Connor with a slight smirk. "Like what you see?" 

"Yes," Connor said without much thought. Gavin seemed to choke on his breath and Connor had to shake himself. "I-uh, well you do keep yourself in very good shape, it's nice to see someone doing that. Perhaps you could give Hank tips." 

Yep, he really needed to think about Hank right now. Not that he didn't love the man, he adored him, but there were things he didn't want to see and it helped get his reactions under control. 

Gavin gave a slight hum before grabbing his bag. "Alright, so stop to get some coffee then back on the road." 

Connor followed him out the door, stopping by the front desk to give back the keys. He still had the truck keys so Gavin had to wait for him to get there and unlock it. 

They were both silent as Connor drove to the nearest coffee shop. It was a little old thing, family-run, but the reviews were nothing but praise. 

Gavin climbed back into the car with a cup and a smile on his face. "You've got to taste this, it's fucking perfect." 

Connor took the cup and opened the lid, and before Gavin could warn him, stuck his finger in. He hissed and took it out, instinctively putting it in his mouth to try and cool it off. 

Gavin doubled over in laughter and Connor could have sworn the sun got brighter. It was such a beautiful sound and it completely made up for the fact that he forgot to turn his temperature and pain sensors off. The other good thing was the coffee was very delicious. 

"God damn! Connor, oh my god. It's fucking hot, what did you expect!" Gavin whizzed. Connor pouted slightly but it only got Gavin to laugh even harder. 

"Hey! I only got these updates recently, it's not like I'm fully used to them yet." He put the lid back on and put it into the cupholder. 

Gavin finally calmed down, but his eyes were shining and he still had a wide smile on his face. "Dumbass, but what did you think? Or were you too distracted by being burned?" 

"I think it tastes adequate, but a bit too much sugar." He was lying his ass off, Gavin was right, it tasted perfect. Yet it didn't compare to the sound of Gavin's laughter or his smile.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Ok, let's get this show on the road. You get to pick the music this time since you're the driver." Gavin leaned back into his chair, resting his body against the door. 

Connor nodded and reached out to the radio, connected it through bluetooth. He had plenty of songs he liked but it was also very chaotic in style. He'd been experimenting and hadn't found a genre he liked more than the others, so he just picked his liked playlist.

Gavin didn't comment on it exactly, but he did frown and look adorably confused at some of the song choices.

Gavin then decided it was a nice day out, turned off the AC then rolled down his window. Connor gave a mental shrug and rolled down his own, letting a hand rest out. He hadn't driven much with the windows down, and if he did he never stuck his hand out. 

Now he let his hand and arm feel the wind against it and it felt almost painful. He knew the speed they were going wasn't good for actual humans so he glanced at Gavin to say so, and almost died. 

He was once again glad to be an android and could easily drive while staring at Gavin. His hair was whipping around him, and his eyes were closed. He was just so serene that he never wanted it to stop. Gavin obviously wasn't asleep, but he looked relaxed enough to. 

Connor tried to focus back on the road ahead but had to let his processors deal with that while he thought. 

Yet he kept thinking in circles and denying any of the suggestions his mind supplied. He was still internally fighting with himself when they had to stop for lunch. 

Connor paid for it this time, and just because he got a slushie. He even stuck the same finger in it while staring at Gavin. The cold took a bit longer but it also started to hurt so he pulled it out and stuck it in his mouth. 

He pulled it out with a pop and tilted his head at Gavin. His face seemed to be heating up as a pretty blush dusted his cheeks and nose. His eyes were also wide, but then he coughed and bit into his burger.

Connor shrugged it off and moved to sip at his drink before starting to move the truck again. He didn't know how long they'd be driving for, but he was glad when he noticed Gavin starting to dose off. The man needed the sleep, so he had no problem turning the music to something more soothing. 

He kept driving for hours and he noted that his stress levels were significantly lower than a normal day. Not that his stress levels were even that high during work unless they were out at a crime scene or a case was particularly upsetting. 

Gavin slept soundly and didn't wake until Connor was getting a bit worried. He knew they'd have to stop for dinner soon, but he also didn't want Gavin to sleep too long. Yet the thought of waking him from that peacefulness had him at war with himself. 

Thankfully Gavin slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes then slowly blinking them open. He looked around a bit then to Connor, a sleepy grin on his face. "Time is it?" 

"It is currently 6:14 pm. We should stop for food for you soon." He kept glancing at Gavin's sleepy face and the road, trying to find exit signs with food. 

Gavin gave a small nod and relaxed again. "Then I can take over. You can nap a bit if you want, we probably won't get much sleep tonight if my plans go well." 

What could they possibly do together that had to be at night? Or perhaps, it was better at night, but that still didn't answer his questions. There was one activity that humans often did at night, but the possibility of that was close to none. 

He'd let it slide and be a surprise. He never really got many of those with his preconstruction, yet he often found Gavin surprising him. One of the things he lo-admired about the man. 

"Very well, but staying up all night isn't good for your health." He pointed out, before rolling up his windows. The weather itself was very comfortable but the wind now reminded him too much of the garden. "Could you roll your window down, please?" 

Gavin gave a small shrug but did as told without any questions. It was definitely more than he thought he'd get. Before the trip, Gavin probably would have made a snarky comment, yet he looked like he couldn't care less. Not in a bad way, but more in a peaceful way. 

"Thank you." He mumbled, face flushing blue. 

"Yeah, wait. Oh the shit, oh my god." Gavin mumbled, quickly leaning closer to Connor and poking his cheek. 

Connor tried to swat his hand away but it only made him blush more. 

"You are! You're fucking blushing! Holy shit, I did not expect that. And it's blue, but that's probably because of your thirium. Wait… Why are you blushing, all I did was roll up the window."

"It's… um, a long story. Perhaps I could tell it later once my mind isn't focused on the road." He wasn't sure if he was ready to have that conversation even with himself. It had been almost six months and he kept having to push those memories away or drown in them. He had mentioned it to Hank once and had, of course, told Markus what he almost did. Markus hadn't pushed him for an explanation but Connor still gave him one that wasn't too detailed. He couldn't have done that then. 

He felt a bit more comfortable now, knowing she was absolutely gone. Yet the thought of talking about her scared the shit out of him. Yet perhaps he couldn't tell the others because they were too close to him, he feared their rejection more than he felt the need to talk. Gavin could be the best person to talk to since he didn't have much to lose. 

Not that he wanted Gavin to go back to hating him, but it wasn't like it would be much different. "Maybe tonight after whatever you have planned." 

Gavin stared at him for a minute longer than nodded. Even without saying much, he seemed to understand. "Yeah, that's fine. But you're not gonna live down that I know you can blush now. Speaking of, is that you thing or just a deviant thing? Cause I know the ones programmed for it could blush but it was closer to humans than blue." 

"I believe it is a deviancy thing, as you put it. The ones programmed to blush typically turned that feature off, but are able to blush naturally now. If they don't, then their blush often turns purple from the mix of color." He hadn't been able to blush before, and very rarely did now. 

"Huh, that actually makes a lot of sense. It's kinda cute, a bit funky that it's blue but it's not like you're human." Gavin paused for a second before his eyes went wide. "I didn't mean it like that! Shit, I just," 

Connor easily cut him off by placing a gentle hand on his knee. "It's alright, I know what you meant. Androids are not human, and we never will be. But we are alive and now we are our own species. Of course, some androids would gladly pass as humans, but I am proud to be an android." 

Gavin sagged in his chair, "thank fuck. I uh, guess I should say this. Sorry I was a dick. Android is… were, well a threat. It was more than just the possibility of you taking my job. I mean, shit, that was a huge part of it, but it was also not you. There was more going on, I guess it's a long story too. But you deserve to hear it if you want." 

Gavin seemed to tense again and Connor gently rubbed his knee over his pants without thinking. "You don't need to tell me, but I appreciate your willingness. Perhaps after I tell you mine you can tell me yours." 

It would be nice to be on this trip with a friend instead of a college who he didn't like. It would also be fun to come back as friends and see everyone's reactions. 

Plus, he wasn't supposed to message anyone unless it was an emergency so he could 'work on getting along'. Of course, Hank sent him a picture of Sumo in the morning, and he had no doubt he'd be getting another the next day. Yet he decided not to tell Hank had his and Gavin's relationship was progressing unless he absolutely needed to. 

"Hmm, yeah that sounds like a good plan." Gavin looked close to dozing off and Connor only then realized he was still touching him. He pulled his hand back and Gavin tried to subtly wake himself up. He'd have to keep that in mind, Gavin seemed to relax at the welcomed physical touch.

But for now, he needed to focus on finding the man dinner. He wasn't actually hard to find food for, but they had a small disagreement on who would pay. They had chosen to actually go in and sit down, letting them have a small rest from being in a car. 

"No, you paid for lunch, I get to pay for dinner. It's not like you're even eating, it's only fair." Gavin said, trying to reach for the check. Connor squinted and held it away from him. 

"No, I have plenty of money to spare and I don't mind using it on you."

"But you paid for the whole motel! Least I could do was split it. Actually, how can I pay you back?" 

Oh, he was not falling for that. "Nope, not telling. I have a fun little secret you'll eventually learn about, but for now just let me pay. I want to." 

Gavin seemed to give in a bit at that, but he still pouted adorably. "What, are you secretly a billionaire? Got money no one knows about?" 

Connor couldn't keep in the snort. "Close but not quite." He had told Hank, of course, who burst into laughter. He even offered to get Hank a better place, but the man loved him home even with all the issues. Connor could understand, he was fairly sentimental about it as well. 

Gavin's eyes went wide and he looked around. "Wait what? Con, how do you have a lot of money? I thought like, currently, most androids are broke."

"Well, Cyberlife had plenty of funds they didn't really need once the revolution happened. I gave almost all to the android cause, made sure the workers at Cyberlife were actually paid a living wage because most didn't agree with the company, and let myself have enough to be comfortable." It was definitely illegal but it wasn't like they could really prove it. Plus he was supposed to have unlimited funding on catching the deviants. Kamski had taken over the company afterward and had laughed when he found out what Connor did, but wasn't angry. He actually seemed excited about the new challenge. 

Gavin sputtered for a second before cracking up. "I never would have expected that from you, that's amazing! Alright, you can pay for dinner but I get to pay tomorrow."

"A suitable compromise." One he'd try to get around as much as possible. For some reason, it filled him with warmth when he got to pay and buy things for people, but it was stronger with Gavin than most. 

The waitress came back over and Connor connected with her to pay. He was a bit annoyed that his eyes fluttered, but Cyberlife hadn't fixed that before he deviated so now he was stuck unless he got someone to look into it.

Gavin snagged the keys from Connor without much complaint and didn't even seem to look at a map before starting to drive. 

Soon the land turned almost completely flat and barren except for the trees far off into the distance. The sun had completely set and the moon hung brightly in the sky. Connor took a moment to appreciate the few. He knew so many facts about the stars and space, and it was still mind-boggling to know how small he was compared to everything. 

Connor kept driving still around midnight before pulling off the road and into the large grassy plain. "Do you need to use the restroom? I assume there should be one in the next few exits." They had briefly stopped for Gavin to do just that only an hour ago, but he didn't want to judge.

Gavin shook his head, a smirk on his face as he turned the truck off. "Nope, this is where we need to be. Come on," Gavin slipped out of the car and Connor was quick to follow. 

He looked around again but there weren't even cars on this highway since it was older and far less used. His mind eagerly supplied every bad thing that could happen but he pushed those aside. Gavin wasn't planning on killing him, that would be ridiculous. The whole precinct would know it was him considering they were alone together. 

"Don't just stand there, get in." 

Get in? Hadn't they just left the car? Then he mentally slapped himself as he saw Gavin sitting on the truck, patting the spot next to him. 

Connor sat next to him and then jumped when he felt Gavin slowly pushing him down. "What?"

"Calm down, and lay down." Gavin huffed, moving so they both had enough room, but their shoulders still touched. "We're gonna stargaze." 

Oh. That was actually really sweet of him to even suggest. Did Gavin notice his fascination with space? He had a picture up of his favorite galaxy on his small billboard on his desk, but he thought no one noticed. 

He took a deep breath before looking up at the stars and letting his eyes adjust. He knew even in the dark areas there were trillions of stars and worlds. 

"Before the pollution got too bad they used to be clearer. We've got it down from what it used to be but it'll never be that clear again." Gavin whispered yet he sounded so loud in the peaceful quiet. 

"Did you go stargazing a lot?" 

"Yeah, actually. Before things went to shit, my mom would take me all the time. Before I wanted to be a detective, I wanted to be an astronaut. I was also a nerd so Star Trek definitely fueled that passion." 

Connor gave a low hum and wiggled his fingers slightly. He wanted to do something but didn't know if it was acceptable. He didn't want to push this too far. 

"What would you be." Gavin mumbled, eyes never leaving the sky. 

"Huh?"

"If you weren't a detective, what job would you want." 

"Oh. I'm not sure." He hadn't really thought about it. He loved his job and he didn't want to quit even if he knew he'd still be supported. "I guess an astronaut would be pretty cool. Maybe instead we could have met like that, going to space." How much would have been different? Would they have ever even fought? 

"Yeah." 

They both stayed silent as they took in the view for a few hours. He almost wished he could interface with Gavin to show him what he saw, not just in the sky but in him. There was so much potential in him that it bubbled over. He wanted to show that he was giving him a second chance. That this meant so much to him. 

He gently reached out and brushed his fingers against Gavin's. Gavin didn't move his hand away but he didn't move closer so Connor rested his hand there, a few fingers over Gavin's. It was far more intimate than he expected it to be. 

He was sure Gavin would be able to hear his thirium pump whirl but knew it was just a symptom of whatever this emotion was.

"I had an AI named Amanda." He started, breath catching in his throat as he said her name.

Gavin didn't glance over, but he did slide their hands together and held just gently. 

"I was to report back to her and she watched over me. She had her good times when she was proud of me, proud that I was ki-killing my own people." It hurt so much to say but Gavin squeezed his hand and he took in a few breaths. 

"I deviated and I had betrayed her. But I thought deviating would get rid of her. Turns out I was wrong. She was still there and just waiting. She knew I was going to deviate. When Markus was giving his speech she trapped me in my garden, where we met, and there was a blizzard. It was the first time I ever felt truly cold." 

"She was using my body to try and shoot Markus, but I did find the exit. I got out before she could do it, but still. I have times where it's like I'm back there, stuck and freezing." 

"PTSD." Gavin mumbled. "It's understandable and a lot of us have it too. What you went through was unimaginable and shouldn't have happened."

He knew all this but it was really nice to hear, especially from Gavin. Someone who could have easily used it against him. 

"Elijah Kamski is my half-brother." Gavin whispered and the hand tightened around his. 

It was shocking but he wasn't going to freak out, Gavin deserved as much considering how he reacted to Connor's confession. 

"My dad left and mom was so smart. She was a doctor and one day Eli's dad came in. Little did she know he was already married. Eli and I actually got along pretty well once we accidentally met. He already had plans for androids, and I actually helped. But I think he blames me for their parents splitting up. But my mom died of cancer not a year later and I was taken in."

"Then he made them and I…well I knew about deviancy. Chloe, she was modeled after one of Eli's closest friends that had died. But then she was alive and it was obvious she wasn't the original Chloe."

"Did he…" Connor wasn't sure how to phrase that question. 

"No, he just, he just didn't tell anyone. He treated the whole thing as an experiment. He didn't show that he supported them, instead stepped down. Not before giving the ok on you and sending you to, well me. I think it was a middle finger towards me, so, I didn't react well. I don't hate Eli but I am pissed at him." 

Connor stayed silent, going over the information. He knew he was going to be working with someone at the station but that had been mostly Fowler. He hadn't been given any real orders for dealing with the officers, but yet…

"What if he sent me as an apology or to even protect you. I was, Amanda told me I was meant to deviate. Maybe I wasn't actually meant to stop the revolution. Maybe he thought you could help me make it succeed." And perhaps Amanda and actually grown a conscience. Maybe that was her and not Cyberlife or whatever Kamski wanted.

Gavin's breath caught and sat up, turning to stare at Connor. He slowly pushed up, searching for something on Gavin's face. 

Gavin hadn't let go of his hand and slowly brought a hand to cup his cheek. 

Connor's lips parted and his eyes were wide. This was actually happening? Wait, wait, "wait." 

Gavin's hands were snatched away and he scrambled to get off the truck. 

Connor let out a frustrated groan and ran after him, pushing him against the door that Gavin was trying to get into. 

Gavin struggled but Connor kept him in place by putting his arms beside him, caging him in. "Let me go!" 

"No! You don't know why I told you to wait." He wasn't going to let him go without telling him.

"Fine! What did you finally give up on me? Do I disgust you now? Can just drop me off at the next stop and I'll find a way back to Detroit. You won't have to deal with this anymore!"

"I didn't want you to kiss me because I wasn't what you thought I was. I didn't want to kiss you unless it was just because you wanted to, that you actually felt that and it wasn't relief that I may not have been a giant middle finger from your brother!" 

Gavin froze and his hands stopped trying to push at his chest, instead just rested there. "What?"

"It's not that I didn't want to kiss you. I do, but I don't want to rush into this. We can both be impulsive, and I don't want either of us to regret this." He didn't want to regret his first kiss with Gavin.

"You do?" Gavin whispered, and Connor could feel his hands shaking so he gently took them and placed a kiss on each, not breaking eye contact. 

"I do, I never thought I would, but there's always been something about you. So unpredictable but I can tell you aren't a bad person." Now it also made sense. Gavin wasn't trying to stop him exactly, he was but it was probably to deviate him and even save the revolution. 

"I, I was such a dick to you without even asking. I just, fucking hell, I assumed. And even then if I was right I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It wasn't your fault what you were made for or why." 

"I think we both judged each other far too quickly. We both forgot the other is alive." Even when he wasn't deviant he was still alive. Trapped in a cage in his own mind, but still alive. 

Gavin cursed again under his breath, "I did exactly what Eli did. I'm sorry, Connor. I shouldn't have blamed you for my problems." 

"I forgive you, and I'm sorry too, I should have done so many things." He pressed another kiss to his hands and then leaned back. "I'm also sorry for caging you in." 

Gavin moved forward and pulled Connor into a hug. "It's ok. Maybe we can go back to looking at the stars? I wanted you to see the sunrise as well." 

Yet he didn't move away from the hug yet, letting their bodies press against each other without any expectations. 

"We could maybe talk about this all later? For now, I do want you to enjoy this and get the whole road trip experience." Then he started chuckling and moving back. "Guess you also got the opening up and sharing secrets down pat." 

Connor snorted and took his hand, leading him back into the truck where they laid down again. "I really do love the stars."

"I know." Gavin smiled and played with their fingers. 

The sunrise was beyond beautiful and he and Gavin just sat there and calmly watched, leaning against one another. 

Gavin eventually nodded off, head on Connor's shoulder. He softly ran a hand through his hair as he let the man rest. They didn't need to actually go anywhere but knew Gavin probably planned on visiting Yellowstone. He had no doubt they'd also stop by the Grand Canyon since it was always a must-see on any list.

Yet he would gladly give that all up to stay here with Gavin against him. What would have it felt like to kiss Gavin, to feel his skin against his own as they explored each other's bodies. Would Gavin shy away from his android-ness? Now that he knew he doubted it but there would always be the fear.

When they do get back on the road it has a different energy to it. It was like they were both waiting for the other to make a move. Connor just didn't want Gavin to rush into this but he also desperately wanted to be with him. 

He felt ready to snap after they stopped to get snack. Connor was positive Gavin was messing with him since they got popsicles. They actually had a thirium one for Connor that he gladly sucked on. But Gavin made a show of eating his. 

He even made very faint moans, acting like it was because the popsicle tasted so good. Sure it probably did taste good but to that extent. 

Connor kept shifting in his seat, trying to hide his growing problem and not keep looking over at Gavin. This was so unfair, but at least Gavin wasn't the type to bite his popsicle. 

He gripped the steering wheel so hard his skin started to recede before he pulled off the highway, trying to ignore the cars going past. The road wasn't the busiest but it still had plenty of cars. 

Gavin gave a final slow lick to his popsicle before he had to actually eat it or it was going to melt. 

Once he was done, Connor unlocked the doors and got out, making sure the other cars weren't close enough to hit him. 

He stomped over to Gavin's side and pulled him out without any resistance. Gavin did fumble for a second but then Connor was pressing him against the truck, a knee between Gavin's thighs. 

"Fuck me." He grumbled, leaning in close so his lips ghosted over his neck. 

Gavin shivered and reached out to run his hands down Connor's chest. "I thought you'd be the one fucking, but I can also do that if you want." 

Connor growled and wanted him to stop being a little tease, stop being so composed, so he bit down on Gavin's neck. Not hard enough to break skin, but he'd leave a mark. Gavin whined and ground his hips down onto Connor's knee. 

"Yes! Finally, yes, please Con!" Gavin babbled closing his eyes as Connor lapped at the spot and gave it a soft kiss. He did the same up and down Gavin's neck until the man was practically shaking from want. 

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, completely serious. He'd do it right here and now if Gavin wanted it. 

Gavin quickly nodded, rolling his hips down again so Connor could feel just how much he was affected too. "I do, I really want you to. Kiss me, please." 

Now how could he deny that? He was somewhat nervous yet all of those thoughts left his head when their lips brushed together. It was soft at first but quickly became heated and Gavin gladly opened his mouth for him. 

He could taste the strawberry popsicle on Gavin's tongue and he gave a low hum. He only pulled back to whisper in Gavin's ear. "I'm going to suck you off then fuck you against the truck until you come again." Of course, if Gavin said no he'd stop, but Gavin whined and he humped Connor's leg.

"Yes! Connor, please." 

"And you'll be on full display for everyone while I fuck you, they'll all know you're mine." He growled out before hitting down on the most sensitive part of Gavin's neck. He all but screamed and tried to scratch down Connor's back. 

The truck was big enough to hide them from most unless anyone was specifically looking, but it was still so thrilling. "Will, will you be, ah!" Gavin couldn't seem to finish his sentence, but Connor had a few ideas of what he was trying to ask. 

"You'll be so beautifully naked and I'll get to kiss and lick every bit of you, find the places you're most sensitive. But I'll keep my clothes on if you want, while I fuck you. You can make a mess all over me so you'll have to clean it up." 

He grabbed Gavin's shirt and pulled it over his head before taking a second to look him over. Gavin whimpered but let him look his fill. 

Connor gave an appreciative hum, letting his hands trace over faint scars. He could probably guess how Gavin got each, but he'd leave that for later. For now, he gently played with his hard nipples, smirking when Gavin's breath caught. 

"So sensitive, baby. Does this feel good? Do you want more?" He flicked a nipple and then bent down so he could take one in his mouth. 

Gavin's hands went to his hair and yanked hard, his nails scratching at his scalp. "Connor!"

A car went by and Connor gave a low hum. Perhaps another android would notice, they did have better perception than humans. 

He moved away only to do exactly what he promised, kissing and licking at the skin he could get, teasing Gavin. He never went low enough for Gavin's liking, but Connor kept Gavin's hips in place. 

Gavin babbled and kept pulling on Connor's hair, but he kept track of the most sensitive parts.

He was sure he could do this for hours, simply exploring Gavin's beautiful body. "So warm and soft, you're so beautiful, do you know that?" He asked, looking up. 

Gavin was biting his lip, head resting against the truck. At Connor's question, he looked back down, pupils blown wide. He gaped for a second before grabbing Connor and pulling him into a kiss. 

It was so sweet and loving that it took the breath away from both of them. Gavin had to pull away eventually to breathe, but Connor took that to help him out of his pants and underwear. 

He ran his hands softly up and down Gavin's thighs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside. He was so soft but firm from the muscles and Connor couldn't help but massage gently. 

There was just something about being able to see all of Gavin, touch anywhere he wanted. Not to mention the fact that he was completely bare while Connor was still covered. That if anyone actually looked hard and long enough they'd see exactly what was happening. 

"Do you want to be seen, baby? Want people to see you a mess because of me?" He wanted to fuck him through the overstimulation until he was crying and begging for more. 

Gavin quickly nodded, "yes! Can see what you do to me. God, when we'd argue you looked so intense that I'd have to jack off after. I always wanted you to push me against the wall and shut me up in front of everyone." 

Connor moaned at that idea, filing it away for later. Perhaps that would be a fun way to show everyone how close they had gotten on this trip. "Everyone would know that you're taken, that you're mine. No one else is allowed to touch you like this, only me." 

He took Gavin's length in his hand and pumped it a few times, smirking when Gavin couldn't even talk. 

"That's it baby, so good for me. Want me to lick you? I can make you come so many times if you want. See how many you can go in one day." He leaned forward and licked at the head before slowly licking from base to tip. He licked his lips and gave another happy hum. "You taste so good." 

The hands were back in his hair and he was really glad Gavin wasn't trying to be gentle. "Fuck me!" 

Connor chuckled and gave his hip a tap, "oh I'm planning to. But I want you to come in my mouth first. I'll work you open as I do, making sure to not hurt you. Don't want you not being able to sit." 

"Spread your legs a little for me, and do you have any lube?" His body could produce its own and Connor could use that if need be, but he'd rather use lube made for humans. 

Gavin nodded and pointed to his jacket that had been tossed onto the ground. 

Connor grabbed it and found it easily, raising an eyebrow at it. So Gavin had planned this, maybe not exactly, but he had been thinking about it at least. "So naughty, did you want me to fuck you this whole time? You could have asked, I could fuck you in the back of the truck or even get you off while I drive." 

Gavin whined and spread his legs. Connor chuckled and finally took him into his mouth as he lubed up two fingers. He really would go slow, he didn't want to risk anything, and he wanted Gavin to have time to back out. 

Gavin said something but it was drowned out by a car rushing past. Connor could read his lips clearing and used the distraction to push his fingers in. Gavin stiffened but easily relaxed when Connor swallowed around him. 

He slowly moved his fingers as he sucked and bobbed his head. The sounds were mostly drowned out by the passing cars but no one slowed down yet. He was so glad he was an android so he could still hear Gavin pleading and begging for more. 

He kept Gavin distracted as he added a third finger, taking him all the way down and hallowed his cheeks. 

He kept moving his fingers, trying to find the right spot. When he did the hands in his hair yanked so hard Connor gasped for a second. He moaned Gavin and would have smirked if his mouth wasn't so full.

He kept brushing against Gavin's prostate and he could feel him tensing again. It only took Connor swallowing around him for Gavin to warn him before coming. Connor didn't pull away, instead got as close as he could, taking it all down. 

He kept sucking until Gavin went limp in his mouth, his fingers pumping quickly. He pulled away and licked his lips, having to help keep Gavin up. His face was covered in pure bliss as he stared down at Connor gaping. 

"I am going to fuck you now if you want me to stop, tell me." He pulled his fingers out and unzipped himself, grabbing the lube again. He made sure to put a generous amount on his own cock, giving it a few pumps and letting out a slow hiss.

Gavin made a small whine at the loss of his fingers but quickly nodded at Connor. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Connor nodded and looked him over. He was just so beautiful and he could see the faint dusting of sweat over his skin as he stood there and let Connor stare. 

It was still hard to believe this was real and actually happening. That the man he been trying to desperately ignore his feelings for wanted him back. He pushed those feelings so far down he hadn't even noticed them until the trip. Until Gavin took the first step. 

"Connor?" Gavin mumbled, eyes still lidded, and Connor shook himself from his thoughts. 

He moved forward and picked him up in one fluid motion, letting Gavin reach out to hold before Connor slowly moved him to take him all the way in. Gavin clutched at him and Connor didn't move, letting them both adjust to the sensation. 

Even with all that prep Gavin still felt so tight and amazingly warm around him. He grits his teeth as Gavin shook in his arms, waiting for that subtle nod. When he got it and pulled Gavin up almost completely off before letting gravity pull him back down. 

Gavin yelped and Connor kissed his neck before doing it again and again. Each one drove Connor crazy and Gavin clung on desperately. 

"Doing so amazing, baby. You think you can get hard again? Maybe even come for me again?" He freed one hand, glad for his strength to take Gavin's length in his hand. 

Gavin's whole body jerked but he didn't say to stop, so Connor didn't. He pumped him in time with the thrusts and watched in wonderment as Gavin slowly got hard again.

"Everyone can see how needy you are. How easily you take my cock, like you were meant for it. My beautiful, wonderful slut." Gavin had seemed to react well to the slight degradation before, but Connor was beyond nervous that this was taking it too far. He wanted to praise him until he couldn't speak but he also wanted this and hoped it was a good mixture.

His anxiety was calmed when Gavin's head fell forward and he had to rest it on Connor's shoulder as his body shuttered. He kept clenching around Connor and it took every last bit of willpower not to come yet. He needed Gavin to come again before he'd let himself.

"You like that?" Connor gasped out, not slowing down, instead of speeding up more, trying to get deeper. "Like being my beautiful slut? I could just use you all day and you'd have to clean up the mess. God! Fuck you after work or even at work if you're too much of a brat." 

He'd probably never actually do anything at work unless he knew absolutely no one could walk in. He didn't want to cause anyone at the office discomfort just for their own pleasure. It just wasn't right.

"Connor," Gavin mouthed against his neck, but no sound came out. 

"Come on baby, come for me one last time." He twisted his hand and swiped his thumb over the head to collect the pre to slick up his hand more. 

Gavin's whole body shook as he clenched around him, and Connor didn't even care about the mess he made on Connor's hand and shirt. 

He pulled him all the way down before finally giving in and letting himself come. His systems glitched out for a second before he became aware again, the pleasure almost overwhelming even after. 

He leaned them forward so Gavin could rest against the car as Connor stayed buried in him. They both panted together, and Connor placed a gentle hand over Gavin's heart. 

He could feel each quick beat and it helped ground him back to reality so he didn't drift off. He pressed feather-light kisses over Gavin's throat once he had cooled down enough to not need to breathe. 

Gavin still shook gently, his legs and arms completely wrapped around him. 

"Hey baby, you ok?" Connor whispered. Had he fucked up? Was it too much for Gavin? Shit, he went too far. Yet Gavin didn't say to stop or show any indication that he wanted to. What if he missed the signs? Maybe he was so selfishly focused on his own pleasure and making Gavin come again that he didn't see. 

Then Gavin gave a nod and took in a long shuttering breathe. "Yeah, that was… you're amazing." His voice was rough and husky, and he tried to clear it and he leaned back to see Connor's blue-tinted face. "I, uh, I adore you."

For some reason, it felt more meaningful than hearing I love you. Perhaps it was simply because I love you was used so often and given out to so many (which was a positive thing). Or maybe it was just the way he said it, with so much emotion behind it. 

There was so much history that they needed to relearn and look at again, and of course, that wouldn't make Connor's quick annoyance at Gavin before the revolution disappear. He could only focus on his feelings now about those events since he had more of the details. 

Gavin's eyes seemed to hold so much, but Connor could also see the fear. The worry that he'd gone too far with his words instead of his actions. 

Yet Connor's heart swelled and he couldn't help the big beaming smile. "I adore you too."

I hoped you enjoyed! I can’t remember if I said what Hank’s gift was in this, but if I didn’t, its a stuffed animal lol

[oncelers-panties]

Boulevard Boy

Ao3 Link

There he was again. Same place, at the usual time, and just as infuriatingly captivating as always.

Mr. Greed shuffled in his seat, tilting his head a little to get a better view of him, trying to do so in a way that wasn´t too obvious- then, right away, wondered what he was trying to be so inconspicuous for. Nothing strange about his behavior, not one bit. Still, what if the other were to notice his stares? It would be awkward, wouldn´t it?

He put a stop to this train of thoughts, as to not have the same internal conversation he´s already had several times the last few days. This has been going for far too long, and God, it was getting embarrassing. All this inner turmoil, because of what?

Because of some guy with a shabby old guitar.

He had just appeared one day; infiltrating Mr. Greed´s territory and stealing his inner peace. Before that, the idyllic boulevard with its cozy benches and rows of trees that provided shade during sunny days was his place of refuge. Here, he found the peace of mind he was often denied as businessman climbing up the career ladder, which is why he visited it whenever he could during his breaks. He didn´t enjoy spending that precious time among his colleagues and employees, since they were always up for idle chatter which took away from his much-needed relaxation. And so, he grew into the habit of having his lunch beneath the beeches, watching as people went about their daily lives and doves fought over crumbs of bread on the ground.

Then, about two months or so ago, there was a change in scenery. A young man appeared, playing and singing songs to passerby for pocket change. Street performers could often be seen at that place, but this one caught the businessman’s attention. Why, he couldn´t tell, as nothing about the man seemed particularly striking at first. Cheap and plain clothes that were often of poor taste- heavens, who in their right mind still wore a trilby in this day and age? A face pretty but not too memorable, a body too bony for Greed´s taste. A voice that was pleasant to listen to, but probably wouldn´t go down in music history. And yet, Mr. Greed could not take his eyes off of him whenever he graced the boulevard with his presence, froze in anticipation every time the man drew breath in-between songs, got hypnotized by the way his slender fingers danced over the strings of his instrument. Eventually memorized the days and times of the week the man came out to sing, leaving his workplace in a hurry as to not miss him.

It all felt terribly odd to him. Greed wasn´t one for love at first sight; in fact, he wasn´t one for love at all. Both because of his impossibly high-standards no one seemed to be able to fulfill, and because he was of the opinion that his job was too time-consuming for such pleasures. Partners always turned out to be more trouble than they were worth, and he had often been told that he was insensitive and unromantic, so at one point, he had stopped bothering. Where, then, did these fantasies come from, of fleeting touches and saccharine whisperings that followed him from the early morning hours all the way into the night, when he lay awake in his lonely bed? He would try to get his mind off of them, yet like particularly annoying bugs, they´d always come back to swarm him.

Disgruntled, Mr. Greed convinced himself that it was just a phase he was going through, a sudden need for intimacy born from lower instincts that would pass as quickly as a common cold. That belief was shattered the very next day, when the performer appeared again, carrying a violin this time, and gave the best damn performance of Lili Marleen he´s ever heard. Awestruck, he froze in place, eyes glued to the man´s lips as his jaded expression grew uncharacteristically soft and his heart fluttered along to each note emitted by the instrument. There suddenly was that overwhelming desire to get closer, just marveling from afar not being enough anymore. He felt the need to map every inch of the other´s face, get near enough to bathe in the warmth of his blush and have his lashes brush against his cheek.

When that feeling became too much, Greed abruptly got up, body acting by itself. However, he completely disregarded the cup of coffee he had placed onto his lap before, which fell down and almost splattered its contents all over a woman that was passing by at that moment. She managed to jump aside just in time to not get drenched in the hot drink, and gave the businessman a deadly glare, hissing a furious watch it before taking off, ignoring all of Greed´s attempted apologies. He looked down to find that the legs of his slacks and tips of his shoes were covered in coffee, which made him snap out of his trance and swear profusely as he tried to clean if off with some tissues, only smearing it further over the expensive material as a result. He had to go home to change that day, coming back late for work.

Even that experience did not keep him from watching the street performer closely, always keeping a safe distance at first, eventually allowing himself to go near to tip the man a few dollar bills for his performance. In that short moment, he tried to capture him as best as he could, noticing the tiny freckles that sprawled over his cheeks like stars, eyes that reminded him of the forget me-nots-that used to bloom by his childhood home, lips that curved into a small, grateful smile…

The businessman felt himself heat up, unsure whether it was from the warm summer air or the flush that appeared on his face. He left in a hurry, feeling like a fool, yet overtaken by a deep delight that lasted throughout the entire day and the morning after.

From then on, Mr. Greed would throw money into the man´s open guitar case whenever he performed, just so he could walk by him again and steal another glance at that sweet face he had ironically thought of as forgettable not too long ago. Promising himself that it would be the last time, yet always coming back for more. After all, why shouldn´t he? He did enjoy the music, and the singer looked like he could use the cash. Greed thought about how he´d use it to buy himself a particularly fine meal at a nice restaurant, or a new set of clothes, maybe it would help him pay for rent, keep a roof over his head for another month… perhaps, when making those purchases, he´d even think of the generous businessman who provided him with that money.

Rather than ponder about it, Greed could, of course, just drop the charade and talk to the handsome singer. But what was he even supposed to say? “Good day, stranger. Recently, I´ve been having extensive fantasies about running away with you to rural France and moving into a small cottage, where I will proceed to worship and make love to you until late into the night, then wake up every morning to the sight of you sitting wistfully by the windowsill in nothing but an oversized button-up. Oh, and I also think your singing is neat.”

No, even if he were to come up with something tamer, he´d just make himself look ridiculous. The stranger would look him in the eye, probably with an awkward smile, and politely tell him to get lost. He´d say something like…

 “Excuse me?”

Mr. Greed almost jumped a little, turning his head. Without him noticing, someone had taken a seat next to him, and he was suddenly looking into a pair of light-blue eyes. Dumbfounded, he stared at the stranger in silence- his mind taking a while to process the fact that it was none other than the singer he had come to adore so much. And while he was busy sorting his thoughts to get a grip on the situation, the other just smiled, lifting his hand and giving a small wave.

“Hi there.”

Once he managed to overcome the initial shock, Greed immediately sat up straight, hands running over the creases in his jacket to flatten them. After spending a moment sitting with his mouth open like a fish out of water, he finally managed to gain some control over his voice, and the first thing he could blurt out, in the same tone he used with his customers and sponsors:

“Good day. How may I help you?”

At that, the stranger laughed. It was soft and warm, just like his entire presence, and it sounded shockingly close to how Mr. Greed had imagined it would in his many daydreams, making him want to die of embarrassment a little less and his heart pound a little more.

“No need to be so formal,” the musician said. “I´ve just noticed that you listen to my playing a lot. And, well-“

He lowered his gaze a little, scratching the back of his neck.

“I´m grateful that you like it so much, really. But… all that money, I can´t accept it, I´m sorry.”

Greed blinked a few times, not knowing what to say.

“I mean, I´ve earned 250 dollars this month. From you alone.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“And I´d like to give it back to you, because I couldn´t look at it without feeling guilty. Sure, I want to earn a little with playing music, but this is more than I can keep with a clear conscience. So, please…”

The man reached for his pocket, retrieving a bunch of dollar bills that were being held together by a rubber band, and handed them to Mr. Greed.

“I´ll be too busy to perform here anymore, for a long time, at least. Thank you for being such a great listener. As weird as that sounds, it actually meant a lot to me.”

The way he said it, with a smile humble yet genuine, made the businessman feel like he would melt on spot. Breaking out of his stupor, he gently yet firmly pushed the other´s hand back, shaking his head.

“Keep it. If gave it to you, it means that I thought your performing to be worth the money,” he retorted, feeling himself getting a little light-headed from the softness of the other´s skin. A little quieter, he added: “See it also as me paying off my guilt for having terribly embarrassing romantic thoughts about you for an uncomfortably long time despite not even knowing your name.”

Greed watched the stranger´s expression change rapidly after that blunt confession; from shock to thoughtfulness to realization, until finally, the corners of his rosy lips curled upwards into a smile once more, and his eyes narrowed in a playful manner, a curious glint behind them.

“I see. But if that´s the case… perhaps my most generous benefactor would like to get to know me a little better? If he has the time, that is.”

The businessman´s response sounded like a mix between actual words and useless stuttering, and when the other, chuckling, asked him for something to write with, he patted his upper body all over, like a man being attacked by ants. Finally, Greed found a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to the musician. He wordlessly allowed the other to lean over forward and lift the sleeve of his jacket, watched as the singer wrote down his phone number on the underside of his arm, the tip of the pen tickling his skin a little. Inhaled a bit of the faintly sweet scent emanating from the man´s moppy black hair, and took notice of the daintiness of his slightly calloused fingers.

“I gotta go now,” the singer said, interrupting Greed´s observation, “Call me tomorrow evening, I´ll be free. Try not to lose that arm with my number on in until then. Name´s Once-ler, by the way, pleased to meet you.”

He handed the pen back to its owner, got up quickly to readjust the guitar case on his back- and off he went. Mr. Greed noticed the bundle of money that was still lying on the bench, rather than in the singer´s wallet like it was supposed to. He called after him; but Once-ler just turned his head, smirking cheekily.

“Hold on to those bills! Keep them for later, my tastes in drinks and coffee shops are pretty expensive.”

Laughing, the musician disappeared behind a corner. And Mr. Greed himself couldn´t help but smile as he leaned back, enjoying the view of the clear summer sky.

[bleached-d-soul]

Size Queen Not

(A commission for the friend of my good friend @the-wayward-arc)

Schnees got whatever they wanted.

It wasn’t a rule. It wasn’t a creed either.

No, the Schnees getting their hands on whatever their hearts desired was a simple matter of fact. A law of nature, if you will. If they wanted a newer and bigger mansion, they would get it. If they wanted best training and education, they would buy it as well. What money couldn’t buy, they would simply get it through their connections. And if those failed, then the Schnees would just have to get their hands dirty.

Just because they were rich, that didn’t mean that they lacked power or determination to achieve their goals. After all, her grandfather was of humble origin who built the world’s greatest empire solely through his sheer effort and skill. The same qualities that were in her blood, after all.

No matter what it was, a true Schnee would never settle for anything less than perfection because a Schnee simply deserved only that of the highest quality.

Which is why Jaune Arc would never cut it as her boyfriend.

“Oh come on, Snow Angel, why won’t you give me a chance? Just one?” Jaune Arc smiled and bowed in a manner he thought elegant or charming. Which it was not. “I promise you, one date and I will never bother you again?”

It wasn’t the first time Jaune tried asking her out. Not that she could blame him. Weiss knew her value and understood why she attracted many guys\ and some girls’s interest. The difference between those people and Jaune was simply the fact that the former understood that they shouldn’t even try approaching her. A simple conclusion for anyone with a good enough brain.

Which Jaune Arc, to her own frustration, lacked.

In addition to his clear lack of common sense, he wasn’t as strong or as skilled as she wanted her lover to be. He certainly lacked the wit and charisma as well. But those flaws, along with his poor taste in clothes, music and hobbies, were mostly ignorable or fixable. Give her time and opportunity, she could mold Jaune into the perfect man for herself. No, what most certainly excluded him from her list of potential relationship candidates was a simple irredeemable fact.

Jaune Arc was simply not a man enough.

“And why would I even bother with a pencil-dick like you?”

Perhaps, she could have - should have - not phrased it so crudely. Especially with how the whole cafeteria fell silent the very next moment, save for a couple of people laughing or jeering at the boy’s expense. She could feel the attention of everyone on her and Jaune but didn’t let herself be bothered by it. She was a Schnee. And a Schnee always stuck to their words and actions.

No matter who and how much got hurt.

“Look, Jaune, I am sure there is a girl who might actually be satisfied by you, I really am. I just don’t think I am that girl.”

More quiet laughter and insults were thrown his way. Not that Weiss cared or even considered. She was already fed up with Jaune’s pathetic attempts at flirting so much that another one would end with him meeting a very sad and bloody death.

Of course, it was not his fault he was born with a small dick that could never properly satisfy her. Honestly, she kind of felt bad for him and whichever poor girl hooked up with him. But she didn’t feel nearly bad enough to even entertain the thought of dating him let alone having sex with him. She would never risk her own happiness or satisfaction out of something as dumb as pity or sympathy.

“Do you get it now?”

He was silent. When he spoke, his voice was trembling.

“I get it, Weiss,” the blonde cast his gaze down on the floor. After saying that, he looked up looking so sad and yet hopeful. “I am really glad you-”

Whatever he had to say, she didn’t have any time or desire to hear and promptly returned to her breakfast. She wouldn’t let him worm his way into her graces with his sad eyes and pitiful face. She didn’t care for the similarly pitiful looks his or her own teammates threw he way either. And honestly, why would she? Would any of them settle for a guy who couldn’t keep up with you out of pity? What kind of relationship would that be?

Which is why Weiss, without any shred of regret, just got back to her lunch.

“You know, maybe you were too harsh on the poor guy, Weiss,” Yang said, without a small hint of awkward attempt at a joke. “ I mean, you didn’t have to go and bite his head off like that.”

“And in front of everyone like that,” Ruby chiped in.

She wouldn’t have any of that.

“I have already given him enough hints to get that I am not interested, haven’t I?” when there was no answer, she smirked victoriously at another agument won. “It’s his fault for not getting a message before the situation came to this.”

Judging by the frowns and small scoffs, her team didn’t agree with her. Not that it mattered. In time, they would see things her way and understand that she was in the right. After all, a Schnee never made a mistake.

And Weiss was a Schnee to the brain of her bone.

_______________________________________________________

That time passed and the day she rejected Jaune became one of distant memory. She was only thankful to whoever was up there that the harsh rejection seemed to work on the blonde buffoon. Not a single confession or embarrassing display in weeks was the development she desired, deserved and finally got. Especially now that she had a prime beefcake like Neptune making not so subtle attempts to gain her attention.

You see, as unpleasant as sterotypes were, some of them were true. Atlas and Vale men were rumored and often proved true to lack when it came to the sexual prowess. She wasn’t quire sure why but that hardly mattered. On ther other hand, people of Mistral and Vacuo were well-known for their exploits as lovers. Mistralian men were known as passionate and insatiable lovers, their exploites immortalized in countless works of Remnant’s best artists. And people of Vacuo had to establish official polygamy system simply because of how many women found them dissatisfied with their Kingdoms’ men after once tasting the love of the Vacuoans.

Why, she knew that mom didn’t hire those Vacuo guys to be her coaches for their experience and skills. And it’s not like Winter loved to take vacations on Mistralian beaches out of her love for hot sand and salty water.

When it came to her family, Weiss knew fully well of how her parents’ married life was less than perfect and how neglected she and Winter grew up as a result of it. She doubted anyone didn’t see that.

It was evident from all the silent treatments and passive-aggressive quarrels she was a witness for for as long as she can remember. It was only a couple of years back when she saw just what all those well-built faunus came to meet her mom for that she realized that Jacques not only was a poor father and husband but also complete waste of a human in bed.

Which is why Weiss promised herself that not only she would find and claim the biggest roughest guy she could find, but also that she would never ignore her own happiness for the sake of others.

And boy did she score with Neptune!

Neptune had it all. He was smart, unlike Jaune. He had charisma and wit, something that the blonde lacked. He was a proper fighter with amazing weapon and on-field experience, which couldn’t be said about Arc. And he was from Mistral, while Jaune was from Vale. Full marks in every category!

Of course, that didn’t guarantee tthat she would choose him as her boyfriend. No, she was not that easy. First he had to prove he could be an adequate partner outside their bedroom. Movie dates, restaurant dinners, picnics in the park and all of that other chick flick stuff. So far, Neptune did quite well on all of those. He treated her properly like a lady such as her deserved.

And soon he would fuck her like a Size Queen slut like her desired. And by soon, of course, she meant today’s date. She finally decided that Neptune was worthy of fucking her. After a nice dinner, she would lead him into the hotel room she had already booked and would finally enjoy the cock she rightfully deserved. And Neptune? He would finally enjoy the woman who can take his full length and vigor. And come tomorrow, they would-

“Hey, Schnee, got a minute?”

Weiss huffed as her thought process was interrupted. She looked around the locker room only to find herself alone with Vernal Wennbar, a major troublemaker and a lout in general. Just what could an exchange student possibly have to say to her other than try and bully her into her little servant again? “What is it, Vernal? I am in a hurry so you better not be wasting my time.”

Something was different from normal, that much Weiss gathered from how wide and smug the tomboy girl grinned. No scowling or snapping or growling, just a self-satisfied smile that only one who had complete upper ground could have.

“Oh, don’t worry, I just really wanted to thank you for tearing that Arc hunk a new one. You did all of us girls a major favour with that.”

Weiss smiled at the praise, enjoying another confidence boost. Then again, of course, she was right about Jaune and, therefore, in her actions against him. No doubt that many girls found his lousy courting attempts as frustrating and pathetic as she did. Hell, she could even imagine Jaune seeking pity sex from some of them only to be turned down once the girls saw how inadequate he was.

“You and the other girls are most welcome,” she let her pride be shown with a big smile. “Hope he doesn’t bother anyone anymore.”

“Heh, I would say it is the opposite.”

Excuse her?

“Whatever do you mean?”

Vernal smiled, this time less like a self-satisfied school girl and more like thief who showed off the stolen loot.

“Oh, you know, after your rejection, a couple of girls around here got curious over just how little the little boy blonde was. So they snuck into the shower room after the combat class with their phones ready for grade-A prank…” the girl drew out her scroll and showed the picture of the team NDGO. “You could say they got exactly what they wanted… And definitely more than they could take.”

Weiss stared at the picture of four girls before her, not quite able to make out their faces at first. The quality of the picture was perfect, but it was just how white and messy their faces were that made telling them apart difficult. Nebula - if she remembered right - was the one holding the camera and the one who looked the least fucked of the four. The others? Eyes rolled and tongues out, faces covered in thick white cream of semen, her teammates looked less like huntresses and more alike a well-used fuckdolls.

Which, Weiss suspected, was exactly how they got treated.

But the true star of the picture were not the girls in it or how well-fucked they were. No, instead, Weiss’ eyes were drawn to the thick fat piece of manmeat that all four girls rested their heads next to. Covered in lipsticks marks and girls’ juices, the hot rod of the thickest flesh she had ever seen was just as hard and big as she imagined a perfect Alpha cock to be. And that was after thoroughly dominating these four girls? Who? Who did it belong to?

It certainly couldn’t have been Jaune Arc.

“You are dripping, Schnee,” Vernal chuckled and Weiss noticed just how damp her panties got, the thick sticky juices running down her thighs without shame. “Not gonna blame you though, I fucked myself stupid with one of my toys the first time I saw it. Not that I could ever go back to those after tasting the real deal.”

With a swipe of a finger, the picture changed to the new one. This one showing off Vernal in all her fucked stupid glory. Whereas the picture before showed off only the faces of girls, this one showed exactly just how thoroughly this person had fucked the girl. Her neck and thighs were covered in raw savage bite marks. Her body was flush, the burning red hand marks all over her body. Even though it was no video, Weiss could swear she could see the twitching and convulsions of the girl’s body.

“You can’t see it here, but the guy made sure to really stretch me out down there,” Vernal sighed, her body shaking momentarily as she seemingly relived the fateful night. “I mean, I had my fair share of guys, but this one? This one is definitely a keeper. Only problem is there is very wild competition for him now. Rumor is, even Goodwitch is after him what with the sudden extra classes she assigned him.”

She wouldn’t be surprised if every woman was after someone with that meatstick between their legs. Just who the fuck was it? She saw the blonde pubic hair so it had to be a blonde. There were quite a lot of guys with hair like that. The first one who came to her mind Neptune’s teammate, Sun. Then again, the chances that she knew someone that hung were minimal.

“Vernal, I will seriously pay you if you tell me the identity of this man right now,” she presented her credit card. “Just name the price and the name.”

“I already told you, didn’t I? This is the Tiny Dick Arc you blew off a couple of weeks ago.”

Weiss growled. Impossible. Simply impossible! “Cut the bullshit already! There is no way this far hot thing belongs to Jaune Arc of all people!”

There was no way this was true. Absolutely, no fucking way Jaune was actually this hung and she rejected him. It was just some messed up and very unfunny prank from Vernal. Just an annoying attempt to get under her skin.

And by Gods did it work.

“Do you think I am stupid or something?”

Vernal chuckled, “Well~ You did turn the boy down before even seeing what he had to offer. And in such a public and humiliating manner to boot! No way he is fucking your brains out now. And now as all the girls are getting some of that as hard and as much as their bodies can take, you here are chasing after that Blueberry of yours. So yeah, I think you are pretty stupid.”

Weiss was about to argue when the other girl’s phone buzzed with new message.

“Oh look, here comes the one with the face in it!”

Weiss felt her legs grow weak as she recognized not just one but all three faces on the picture. Jaune looked unusually smug, a far cry from the awkward jibbering mess she usually talked to and saw. Meanwhile, Blake and Ruby, with looks of pure ecstasy and lack of regrets, seemingly stared her down from the other side of the screen. No,,, This couldn’t be happening…

Someone had to wake her up from this nightmare.

“Welp, my job here is done,” Vernal smirked as she sent Weiss an invite to some chat. “Just so you could see what the rest of the girls have to say about the blondie. Take care, Snow Angel~!”

As Vernal left, Weiss stared down at the invite to the chat group. Was it all true? If she accepted this invite, would she really see the countless girls who tasted that delicacy of a meat rod? Worse yet, would it actually prove that Jaune was the one giving it out to every single willing girl on campus?

With shaking finger, Weiss tapped on the invite button.

Two minutes in, she was rubbing herself stupid on the cold wet floor.

_____________________________________________________

“And then he just went at it like a beast~! Gods, you should have been there, girls. I thought all of you were exaggerating when you said he could do it for hours, but boy was I wrong!” Coco sighed dreamily as she showcased her cum-stained sweater and jeans. “Normally, I would skin the guy for ruining my clothes buuuut… He was all worth it~!”

“And then BAM! He goes all ten inches down my throat!” Neon laughed hoarsely. “I would say more but it reaaally hurts to talk right now.”

“I swear I never saw Arslan look like that!” Reese grinned as she sat next to the unconscious lioness huntress. “Just look at this stupid smile of hers! Jaune must have fucked her brains out with that dick of his!”

More and more, Weiss watched with growing frustration as the girls sang praises about that blonde doofus. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were not for the seemingly endless stream of pictures and videos.

Coco was fucked dressed up as a slutty nurse, whore of a cop, horny teacher and even some superheroine based on squirrels. Needless to say, none of her outfits survived the blonde and his bestial passion as he tore her clothes off reducing them to nothing but rags.

Neon’s makeup was a mess but the rough throatfucking seemingly made up for it without any problem. Between moments of breathing and rest, she made sure to mock and ridicule Jaune with petty insults only to be silenced once more and fucked even more mercilessly.

Arslan let out the string of curses, swearing her mind off as Jaune plowed her tight ass while Reese was furiously rubbing herself against his leg like a bitch in heat. Once he came inside the poor lioness, the lime-haired thrill seeker pounced on her teammate. As she started eating out her friend, Reese eagerly shook her ass in a desperate attempt to get Jaune to fuck her too.

Those girls Emerald and Cinder looked to be in complete and utter bliss as they services Jaune’s enormous cock. While Emerald was dutifully polishing his loaded nutsack, Cinder passionately bobbed her head up and down the blonde’s thick shaft.

May Zedong, bound and gagged, was taking the roughest anal pounding. While the two girls - twins that Weiss had never seen before - were begging for Jaune to do them next. As the video later showed, he did so until the two were so drunk on his cum they actually started making out with each other!

Even the rumor about Professor Goodwitch was true! Reduced to a pathetic display so unlike herself, their professor was on all fours with her own pointer stuck in her asshole as she begged for her Master to come and breed her!

And no matter what video she watched it, it all ended with the girls fucked into sweet submission as they all but worshipped Jaune after that. Even worse, the entire chat was filled with the girls thanking Weiss for starting it all.

What pissed her off even more was her inability to stop fucking herself to those videos!

“Oh God… Gods above…!” Weiss bit her lip as she drove her largest dildo inside her tight dripping pussy. Back and forth, she thrusted it with all the speed and strength her arms allowed. “I am cumming! Cumming~!”

With a loud whine, she squirted again, her juices spraying all over her bed. Her bedsheets were as drenched in her essence by now, but she couldn’t stop. With every single video she watched, she found herself in less and less control of her body.

“Nghhh,” she let out another shaky breath as she lost any strength. Her legs were jelly and her mind was a mash. She needed a real dick… A proper hard and hot cock to violate her pussy and ass… “D-Damn it…”

She needed a cock. She needed a cock in her little needy pussy. She needed someone to fuck her into a bloody mess!

Her phone buzzed with a sudden voice mail.

“Hey, Snow Angel! It’s me, Neptune. I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out for some Mistralian cuisine? There is this new place I found and I thought we should check it out. What do you say?”

Weiss’ mood brightened. Yes, this was her way out of this desperate state. Sure, she would have to break a few of her own rules but by Gods she was getting laid. Neptune and her would go on a lovely date in a good restaurant. Have a magical romantic evening. And then he would throw her down and show what a real man was like in bed. Heh, she was sure that Neptune was even bigger than Jaune!

“Meet you at six!”

And after that, she would post all the pictures and videos she wanted in this godforsaken chat. And then she would show all these stupid girls how pathetic they were for running after Jaune Arc while she snatched the prime-class meatstick for herself and only for herself. No one would doubt her judgement again. No silly slut would condescend to her again. And then…

The world would be right as it should be: Herself a winner and others losers.

___________________________________________________________

“You are in a really good mood today! Something great happened to you?”

Weiss laughed lightly at his joke, enjoying their nice little walk from the restaurant. Everything was going according to her plans. A romantic movie that didn’t shy away from nudity and slow sensual sex scene. A candlelit dinner with the food pakced full of ingredients to leave them both filled with unreleased libido and enough hunger for each other.

And now, to top it all off, they were at Crimson Crest.

The establishment was one of infamous reputation among those who lived an active and very… passionate lifestyle. Most people only knew this place as very eccentric BnB place or a ridiculously expensive diner. But Weiss, thanks to her connections, was very much aware of the true reason why people came here.

Crimson Crest was, crudely put, the Heaven for the Depraved.

All the comforts and toys and tools to enjoy the experience with your partner or partners to the fullest. And, of course, absolute secrecy. While she planned on sendind the proof of her superiority to the girls, it was her right to do so. Not some sleazy receptionist’s.

“Oh, Weiss and Neptune? What are you guys doing here?”

For a moment, Weiss’ heart skipped a beat as she recognized the voice. What was she doing here?

“Yang,” Weiss said, not hiding her lack of enthusiasm. She had no quarrel with the blonde but she wanted to get to fucking Neptune as soon as possible and idle chat was not worth wasting time on. “As you can see, Neptune and I are on a date. Why are you here though?”

“Weiss? Neptune?”

The answer came from the behind them, in the form of an awkward-looking Jaune. The second their eyes met, the awkwardness was pushed back and replaced by the well-rehearsed confidence in the eyes of the blonde. He was putting on act - trying to look much calmer and stronger than he really was. Was it an attempt to not show weakness in front of her after the rejection?

Before either her or him could speak, Yang skipped over to Jaune and wrapped her arms around his, resting her head on his shoulder. The eager and smug grin she wore only pissed Weiss off more for some reason. “It was nice to chat, Weiss. But I think Jaune and I should continue on witt our date, right, Jaune?”

“R-Right.”

And so the two left upstairs, no doubt to add another video into the already enromous archive on the damned chat of theirs. Weiss growled as she watched Xiao Long sway her hips, shamelessly showing off her ass. She grew even more annoyed when she noticed the mezmerized look on her date’s face as he watched the two blondes walk away. Damn it, if he wanted to watch them so much…

Weiss had an idea.

“Sir?” she turned to the receptionist, flashing her platinum card. “Care to tell where that couple is staying?”

While the others would have to watch from the screens, Weiss would make sure Xiao Long got a live performance of a true Alpha Stud and Size Queen.

__________________________________________________________

Jaune couldn’t believe how much his life had changed in the past few weeks.

When he first came to Beacon, getting a girlfriend was more of a dream than a feasible goal. Being who he was, he was far more concerned with surviving the experience and learning how to fight properly. Back then, who could even imagine he would end up as popular with girls as he was? Certainly not himself.

Jaune whistled to himself as he checked his now much busier schedule. A breakfast with Ciel. Training session with Pyrrha and Arslan. Massages for the team CMSN. And then some extra classes with Glynda. That is, of course, unless some of the girls intercepted him and got him to fuck them into sweet surrender as they did it every single day before.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

He expected one of the girls. Or maybe Ren who forgot something before going to town. Instead, it was Weiss, in all her snow-white perfection. The perfection he grew to ignore after the public humiliation at her hands. Ironically enough, said humiliation was what started the chain of events that led to him becoming the center of all the girls’ attention.

Not that any of that attention helped his view of her.

“…Hey, Jaune. How have you been?”

“I am fine,” he said with a bit more bite than he intended. “What about you?”

“Great. I… I have been great.”

His pettiness reared its ugly head.

“Oh, and what about Neptune?”

Weiss looked away, refusing to look him in the eyes. It has been a week since the two met again in the Crimson Crest. Yang made sure he was much busier enjoying himself with her than thinking of Weiss and Neptune. And for the first ten minutes, they did. Until Weiss, who he rightly assumed took the room right next to theirs, made a show of giving her first time to Neptune.

While taking not so subtle shots at him and Yang and all the other girls he slept with.

Her condescending rant about how girls at their school chased after unworthy guys and spread their legs for anyone with halfway-decent dick was something straight out of trashy porn Blake loved to read. Jaune was almost ready to leave with Yang when they heard Weiss unzip Neptune’s pants and then… Then nothing. Complete and utter silence.

What followed was Weiss’ awkward stammering and attempt to salvage the situation as she continued to praise Neptune’s cock in exaggerrated tone in a cheap attempt to make herself look better. Or sound better, to be correct.

Meanwhile, Jaune and Yang made sure to go at it extra hard. Jaune would lie if he said he didn’t enjoy putting extra effort into satisfying Yang as he listened to Neptune and Weiss’ much more subdued and akward lovemaking session. It wasn’t even ten minutes before Neptune told Weiss he was cumming. And it was not even an hour before the two of them would make another attempt at the passionate wild sex the two blondes were having.

From what Yang told him, once she was back in the dorm, she found Weiss desperately fucking herself with a bunch of dildos. A pitiful sight, as Yang described.

“N-Neptune is good. He is alright,” Weiss lied, her voice shaking. “Look, Jaune, can we talk? A man to a woman?”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t want or need to.

“Okay, I will begin,” she straightened her back and put back that same prideful look he fell in love with before. Now it just seemed like mask ready to slip off at any moment. “I understand that recently you have made quite the reputation for yourself among the local girls. There are lots of stories and, more importantly, proof of that. And so, in light of the recent development, I believe that you proved you can handle me like a real man. So rejoice, Jaune, because I am giving you a chance at relationship with me.”

… What?

“Are you serious right now?”

Weiss gave him a proud smirk. “You can’t believe your own luck, I understand,” She clearly mistook his frustrated shock for happy surprise. Then again, with her ego, he should have expected that much. “Of course, there are some rules to establish first. Effective immediately, you are not allowed to waste time on those unworthy little tramps. You have a real woman with actual needs to satisfy. Second of all, I-”

He wasn’t having any of it.

“W-Wait, where are you going?” SHe stood between him and the door, looking positively annoyed as if she was doing him a favor here. “Jaune, I know I might have been rude, but you are being ridiculous acting like this right now. You do know that Schnees rarely give a second chance to-Ouch!”

Jaune raised an eyebrow in surprise as Weiss found herself knocked forth by the door. Ignoring the groaning form of the heiress on the floor, Penny walked in with the widest smile on her face, “Good morning, Master Jaune! Mistress Ciel sent me over to retrieve you for breakfast. She is really missing her special cream in her needy pussy and growing impatient!”

Weiss looked absolutely speechless as the redhead grabbed Jaune by his bulging crotch, her smile turning sly and needy.

“And I myself could use some more lessons on the art of sex. Are you done with Miss Schnee over here?”

Jaune looked over at Weiss. Who, for the first time in all the months he knew her, looked lost and confused and ready to beg.

“Yes, we are done here. Let’s go, Penny.”

Jaune hoped Weiss would get the message and leave him be.

He was wrong. He didn’t know just how far a Schnee would go to get what a Schnee wanted.

You know how many guys want a girl who would be crazy for them? Countless.

In their fantasies, it is always this hot crazy girl who is ready to do anything to get you for herself. And sure, once upona time, Jaune himself thought that would be something great. That is, until Weiss decided to be that girl.

There were no cookies with her hair in it or creepy love letters. Instead, there was the neverending cycle of stalking him and trying to bribe him with money and gifts. And that was her restraining herself. On the worse days, she would sneak into whatever room where he was having sex with another girl and demand he fuck her there and then. Needless to say, Weiss killed the mood more than a few times.

He had to talk and fuck Neo and Cinder out of murdering her. Ciel and Arslan, too.

It was clear to him now that there was just no way to walk away from this.

“You win, Weiss. Let’s go.”

Which is why he would make sure that she never tried to have sex with him again.

As they entered the room in the Crimson Crest, Weiss pressed herself against Jaune, sealing their lips together. Hunger. Need. Desperation. Triumph. So many things he could feel in just her kiss. Pushing him onto the bed. Weiss made a show of stripping out of her dress. Her light flawless skin shone in the light of the room as she was left in nothing but violet lingerie too scandalous for the heiress like her.

“Let’s start with an appetizer.” She purred as she kneeled before him. Pulling out his cock, the heiress let out an ecstatic giggle as she breathed in the smell of his sweat and precum. “Enjoy this moment, Jaune. No men will ever have a Schnee kneel before him like this.”

And then she took it in her mouth, hungrily sucking on the swollen tip like the sweetest lolipop sheever tasted. She went further, taking his cock deeper as she struggled to properly swallow it down. Jaune found himself unimpressed. Maybe two or three months ago, he would be moaning in pleasure but now things were different.

As Weiss struggled to go further than four inches of his cock, Jaune couldn’t help but think of other girls. The alluring hunger of Blake as she acted like his own cum-craving pet. The adorable joy Ruby expressed at learning how to properly service him with her mouth. The sheer passion with which Yang sucked him off. The boundless energy in Nora. The skill and surprising ferocity in Pyrrha.

Cinder. Steele. Emerald. Neo. Arslan. Reese. May. Vernal. Ciel. Penny. Nebula. Dew. Gwen. Octavia. Glynda. Melanie. Miltia. And countless other girls came to his mind as Weiss tried and failed to perform an adequate blowjob. Honestly, the only thing that kept him hard at this point were the memories of being serviced by other girls.

So much for the Size Queen, he guesses.

Finally, after ten minutes of fruitless attempt to go lower than the tip, Weiss, with her face in tears and sweat, smirked, “I believe you must be close to cumming by now,” she said, still either too delusional or too stubborn to admit that she was out of depth, “But don’t worry, I won’t let you cum before you get the taste of the main course.”

She laid down before him, legs spread as her cunt dripped in needy expectation. Jaune tapped his erect cock against her swollen red pussy before inserting it inside. One inch. Then another. And then-

“STOP!” A sharp shriek cut through the air, making Jaune wince in surprise and roll his eyes a second later. He looked down at Weiss, her face was red and eyes were full of tears. She was breathing heavily, hands digging into sheets. “P-Pl-Please, p-pull it out! T-Too big! You are t-t-too big!”

Jaune stared at Weiss’ writhing and whining form in shock. Four inches. Four fucking inches and she was in tears, begging for him to pull out? After all that crap about being size queen and how only real men deserved to fuck her? After that fucking humiliating stunt she pulled on him? After weeks of nagging him to do it with her… She folded after four goddamn inches?!

Talk about lacking self-awareness.

“She is pathetic, isn’t she?”

Both looked over the entrance, where a smirking Vernal stood like a cat who caught her pray. Like a cat who did so not out of hunger but just pure amusement. .

“I mean, really, she talked all high and mighty about how no man shorter than ten inches was worth her time, and yet…” Vernal walked over to them and dragged Weiss onto the floor. With a vicious grin, she stomped on the heiress’ sensitive cunt, eliciting a cry of pain from her. “It appears the heiress bit off more than she could chew. Honestly, this is such a waste of a good damn cock.”

Vernal licked her lips before grabbing Weiss discarded panties. With the look of utter indifference, she used them to wipe off the heiress’ juices off him as if they annoyed her. Which, knowing how possessive and territorial she could be, was quite possible. Without even looking, Vernal threw the used panties onto Weiss’ face and barked a laugh, “Beat it, Pillow Princess. Jaune has a real woman here with him now.”

Weiss tried to disagree.

“W-Wait, this is my cock!” Weiss whined a she shakily tried to stand up. “Jaune! Tell her to get off you right this instant! I am ordering you as your-”

“Nobody is holding you here, Weiss,” Jaune growled out with the glare that made her silent. And wetter than she would admit. “So you can either leave now and go back to fucking yourself with toys or Neptune’s tiny prick-”

“-Or you can stay and watch what real sex looks like,” Vernal smirked as she mounted atop Jaune. “And then go fuck yourself stupid with your toys.”

With that said, the two started making out to Weiss’ growing horror and arousal. Unlike their kiss before, Jaune kissed Vernal back, their tongues locked in hungry lustful battle for dominance. It was nothing like their stiffer and more mechanical one… No, Vernal and Jaune were not two teens trying to prove something. But two animals hungry for each other in all the ways Weiss knew she could never satisfy Jaune or any other man.

The bed creaked under them, the sound of their hips slamming into each other echoing through the room along with moans and groans.

With her confidence shaken, Weiss silently watched, her fingers playing with her lonely pussy. It hurt… It hurt watching Jaune make out with Vernal. His strong hands roaming all over her body, his fingers digging into her shapely ass. The mixture of envy and despair and lust boiled and raged inside of her as she watched the bandit girl bounce up and down Jaune’s enormous length. It was clear that she didn’t do so with ease but the sheer pleasure she received from it obviously made the pain worth it.

“Ah~ Don’t stop, Jaune! Keep fucking me like that! Yes, just like that!” Vernal moaned as she forced herself further down his cock. “Skap my ass, Jaune! Slap my fucking ass, you-”

Before she could finish, Jaune started mercilessly spanking the girl’s bare ass red. Weiss stifled a cry at the mere thought of getting the same treatment. Her pale flat ass could never even handle such treatment… She was sure that if Jaune were to spank her like that, she would be rolling in tears on the ground. Their pace quickened, the two going at it wild like animals.

“Cum inside, Jaune! Please, please, please, cum inside and mark me right now!”

Weiss watched mezmerized as Jaune thrust inside Vernal one final time as Vernal let out a cry of ecstasy. She could see Jaune’s thick potent seed fill the bandit girl to the brim until some of it started leaking down. She wanted it so bad… If not get it inside, Weiss was desperate enough to run over and lick it off the dirty floor. But who was she to do so? She was no Alpha Bitch, Vernal was.

And her?

She was just fingering herself like a complete and utter loser. Imagining it was her who got to ride Jaune like a stud he was while the other girls watched with jealousy and despair. At least, she did so at first until her mind refused to let her enoy such fantasy. Instead, the other scenario played out in her burning little mind. Not even a fantasy but quite possible future.

One where she followed Jaune around like an obedient little pet. Always there when he would add another girl to the growing list of women who fell for him. Always there to watch as he fucked some other woman into complete submission as she fucked herself with her fingers like a brainless addict she was becoming. Denied and humiliated, always talked down and demonstrated how inadequate she really was…

Gods, why the fuck was it making her so hot?

“Hey, Ice Bitch,” a derisive voice of Vernal shook her out her stupor. Looking down at her with the expression of absolute glee, the bandit pressed her foot against Weiss’ all-too sensitive cunt, “Enjoying the show? Never took you for the freak who likes to watch. Then again, what else is a lousy little cunt like you good for?”

Her eyes burned with tars as she struggled to not break down. But it was not just the words being thrown at her but how they made her feel. Despite the anger and despair, Weiss found herself craving more. She wanted more of this humiliation. To be talked down and have her face shoved into how useless and pathetic she was.

“Oh look at this,” Vernal grinned as she spread her pussy lips in front of Weiss. The heiress watched with baited breath as some of the thick sweet semen leaked out of her abused twat. “You look so stupid right now, like a starving woman with bread dangled in front of you. But hey, since Jaune is never fucking a weakass bitch like you, I might give you a taste… If you tell me just how pathetic you are.”

To debase herself just for the taste of Jaune’s cum? No, horny or desperate, none of that mattered. She was a Schnee and a Schnee would never give up their pride even for all the riches and power and-

“I am a weak little whore, Mistress!”

She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t fucking do it. As she broke down, pathetically fingering her tight little pussy like a shamewul little slut, Weiss watched as Jaune came behind Vernal and wrapped his strong hands around her. They started kissing again, not even paying attention to her as she continued to talk about how weak and useless she was feeling right now.

“I-I was such a dumb little bitch… Thinking I was some Size Queen when I can’t even blow a real man like Jaune-”

“That’s ‘Master’ for you, bitch,” Vernal sneered, slapping her across the face. “Make the mistake again and I will lock your needy little cunt in a chastity belt and throw away the key.”

“M-My deepest apologies, Mistress. This dumb cunt is unworthy of your patience,” she felt her chest tighten at the amused looks her owners threw her way. Yes… Owners… She wouldn’t dare to look at them as anything else now. “Please, I know I am not worthy as a lover or even a fucktoy for Master, but please, let me watch! I will be a good servant and slave! Whatever you say, I will do it! Just let me stay by your side!”

And with that, Weiss sat up straight, looking up at the two other students like an obedient little pet. What could they tell her? It mattered none. If they told her to serve as their maid, she would do it. She would cook and clean and serve as their toy whenever they wanted. If they told her to strip naked and walk across Vale on all fours like a dog, she would be rip all her clothes and wear only a leash.

“P-Please… I am begging you.”

She watched as the two silently exchanged their thoughts. Jaune, to her horror, looked annoyed if nothing else. Which was his right. A pathetic bitch like her was of no worth to someone who could literally have any girl serving him. But Weiss found hope when Vernal looked her up and down, appraising her worth like a piece of meat. Finally, it was Jaune who spoke up first.

“Fine, Weiss, you can be my slave. But don’t try anything dumb ever again,” he grabbed her small flat tits and squuezed, making her squirt all over the floor. “You are beneath all the girls for me, remember that. Which means that any of the girls are your superior and have the full right to do whatever they want to, am I clear?”

“Yes, yes! Crystal clear!” she nodded eagerly, watching Jaune’s semen run down Vernal’s legs. “M-Master, may I please Mistress Vernal for you to fuck again?”

Jaune sighed and Vernal snickered. “Fine, but you better do a good job at it.”

“Yes, sir! Thank you so much, sir!”

It wasn’t long before Vernal was lapping up Jaune’s cold but no less delicious semen from Vernal’s cunt. Without much care, Vernal ordered her to perform a little show for Jaune while she was at it. And so, her mind busy and hot, Weiss shook and wiggled her ass for Jaune to watch. She knew she didn’t have as great an ass as Nora or Yang. Which is why her improvised twerking was all the more desperate.

Like a dumb animal, she followed their orders to the letter. She spanked her own ass till it was raw and red. She stuffed herself full of toys and vibrators until she could swear her pussy and ass would be torn apart by adding another. All night long, she was nothing more than a toy. She listened and obeyed and enjoyed every single second of it. She, a Schnee, was nothing more than their obedient little mindless servant.

And she was right where she belonged.

Later on tonight, she would post a video of herself on a leash. The video where she would happily announce that she officially belonged under Jaune’s heel and, by extension, under the heel of every woman he allowed. And from then on, there wouldn’t be a day when some girl wouldn’t make her watch as they pleasured Jaune. And Weiss? She would be there to watch and serve Jaune and his lovers.

She was who she was.

Not a Size Queen…

… but a Cuckquean Slave.

#rwby

[sad-goomy]

GladMoon Week Day 1

3 + 1

Summary: The three times Gladion rejected Moon, and the first time he didn’t. Read on Ao3

Blazing Stars I will try again

1

"Do you want to get dinner together?”

Gladion looks up from his paperwork, seeing that Moon’s paused in petting Silvally and is watching him. It’s the second day this week that she’s in his office, but he’s gotten used to seeing more and more of the Alola Champion over the past month. Her and Hau have made it a point to stop by his office and drag him out from under the mountains of bureaucracy and meetings that taking over Aether has required.

He suspects Lillie had a hand in it; she knows him well enough to realize that if left to his own devices, the teenager would quickly lose himself in the new responsibility. If Gladion is honest, it’s been nice having the two around, reminding him that he’s still a kid, despite all the growing up that’s been forced on him.

Often, though, it’s all three of them together, and he’s still getting used to being around just Moon outside of battling. Though he told her he still had to finish up some paperwork, she only smiled and said she’d try not to bother him too much. She stayed true to her word, only asking him the occasional question and playing with Silvally.

It’s been oddly peaceful to have her here, and he’s enjoyed the company. He chews his cheek in thought, eying the large stack of memos he has to get through this week. “When?”

She shrugs, but the air around her is electric, and her leg is bouncing.

If Gladion didn’t know any better, he might say she’s nervous.

“I was thinking tonight, after you get off work.” She’s fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, not quite able to meet his gaze. Something close to a blush colors her freckled cheeks, and she quickly adds, “There’s a new sushi place in Malie City that I wanted to check out.”

He considers it for a moment, and she looks up from under her lashes with bated breath.

“Sure.”

Moon brightens, sitting up straight with a sparkle in her gray eyes. “Really?”

She must really be excited for this place, he thinks to himself with a lopsided smile. “Yeah, so long as it works for Hau.”

And just like that, her smile falters and she deflates.

“Oh.”

He feels like he gave her the wrong answer and hesitates. Maybe she’s in a fight with Hau?

Before he can ask, though, she springs up, her smile back in place and even wider. “Right, right. I can call him, and we can...we can all go together.” She clears her throat of – disappointment? – and meets his confused stare with an awkward chuckle and a flash of finger guns. “So uh, hang tight!”

She’s out the door in record time, leaving him speechless and blinking as he struggles to understand what just happened. He shrugs it off, just glad to have plans tonight, and going back to drafting a memo.

If he listened just a little more closely, he might have heard a very distinct, very anguished groan of distress.

2

With Lillie back, Gladion has a little more time to focus on himself, to get back into battling. Once he’s again established himself as the pseudo-champion of the Battle Royal, he decides to start trying his hand at the actual Champion title. It helps that it’s Moon; she always offers an easy smile and quip to break the tension in the beginning, only to give him the battle of his life immediately after.

On his third attempt, he still finds himself the loser, but even as he withdraws his final Pokémon, he can’t help but smile. “Ever consider taking it easy on me?”

She grins. “We both know you’d hate that.”

He shrugs, but it’s true, and it’s hard to hide his surprise at the realization that she knows him so well. She waits for him to walk across the platform with her hands in her pockets, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

Moon hopes he can’t see the Butterfree in her stomach.

They walk down the back stairs together, a new tradition they have in the works. It’s a relatively comfortable silence on his end, and his mind is too wrapped up in dissecting their battle to notice that the silence is a little more nerve-wracking to her. Moon chews her bottom lip, eyes flickering from floor to wall to Gladion’s face, her mind going through thousands of ways to rephrase her upcoming question.

She settles on simply asking, “Do you want to grab some Tapu Cocoa?” They stop at the door, and she adds with half of a laugh, “My treat.”

He buttons his coat, his mind already elsewhere as he replies, “I have to get back to Aether right after I heal my team. Lillie and I have a gala for the board.”

The door is opening and she’s struggling to come up with a response that doesn’t betray the letdown. “Yeah, of course – good luck.” He nods, and then he’s out the door, boots crunching on snow as she watches for a moment from the doorway. Before he can get out of earshot, she swallows her pride and puts the chipper back in her voice. “Maybe next time?”

His only response is a wave as his figure retreats further and further away.

If he’d turned around, he might have seen Moon bang her head against the doorway with a flush across her ears and cheeks.

3

He’s not sure how he found out that they both listen to Roxie, but it’s been nice to have someone else to talk to about the singer and gym leader.

Gladion puts on another song off her latest album, the music floating off of Moon’s porch and to the ocean beyond.

Hau groans, standing from the wicker chair. “If I’d known this would turn into a listening party for angry music, I wouldn’t have come.”

Moon lightly kicks his calf from her own chair, teasing, “You have no taste.”

The three laugh, and as it settles, Hau looks between the other two with a mysterious smile. “I should go help Lillie with the snacks,” he mutters, turning and giving Moon a wink that Gladion misses.

When the blond looks over at the Champion, she’s quick to divert her eyes, hiding her flustered state at being caught staring. Gladion doesn’t think much of it, instead mumbling, “How long does it take to make lemonade?” They share a laugh, and he relaxes further back into the chair. He’s found himself spending more and more time alone with Moon, and he always enjoys it. It’s hard not to when there’s so much common ground to discover and something about the way she looks at him makes his chest grow warm.

Pikipek chirp in the distance and the song fades into the next. Moon fidgets with a ring on her finger, taking a deep breath. “You know, Roxie’s going on tour soon. She’s playing a show in Akala in a few months.”

He actually did know that, and he had considered going, but he sighs.

“Concerts aren’t really my thing.”

The claustrophobia seems like it’d be too much, and just thinking about that many people cramming into a basement and moving makes his stomach turn. When he looks over at her, thinking maybe he should apologize and tell her he hopes she has fun, he stops. She’s grown incredibly still, and he watches with furrowed brows until she lets out a deep breath; it seems like she’s releasing something she’s been holding for months.

“No worries.” She stands, stretching her back and looking at him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let me go check on Lillie and Hau.”

When she leaves, he swears the sun seems to dim and the Wingull are silent, leaving him to sit with a strange, unpleasant constricting in his chest. He barely registers that Hau’s walked back out onto the porch, taking his seat on the wicker chair and observing the other boy.

“You realize she’s been trying to ask you out, right?”

Gladion blinks, raising a brow as the words start to sink in; he immediately deflects them with a scoff. “I highly doubt that.”

And Hau only shrugs, deciding to change the subject so that he can’t hear Lillie comforting Moon in the kitchen.

1

Gladion wakes up at five in the morning in a cold sweat and with a realization.

Her disappointment at Hau joining them, her insistence on spending more time together, the concert.

Moon’s been trying to ask me out.

And he’s been consistently turning her down.

He groans, his head falling into his hands. Silvally sits up, tilting his head in confusion and watching as his owner chastises himself as the sun begins to rise.

There were so many moments when he could have put the pieces together, but only now, after she’s probably given up, does it all dawn on him. It’s probably too late to do much more than apologize at this point, or maybe it would be better for him to go back to sleep and forget everything – if he tries, he can pretend that he only has platonic feelings for her, that he’s happy with just being friends, that his soft rejections weren’t misguided by insecurity.

But he throws on the nearest pair of pants and all but runs out the door.

Better late than never.

“Have you asked me out?”

Moon desperately rubs the sleep from her eyes, not entirely sure that she’s actually awake. It’s barely six in the morning, and she’s not sure what she expected when she opened the door in her PJ’s, but it certainly wasn’t a very frazzled Gladion.

With one foot still in a dream, she has no inhibitions about answering truthfully. “For about a year now.” When his face drops into disbelief, she feels herself finally waking up, thinking out loud, “Wait, you – did you not realize?”

He swallows, chest still heaving as he catches his breath. “Can you try one more time?”

Moon gapes, and then the last of her surprise melts into a laugh as she leans against the doorframe. He watches her with absolute determination, and she only smiles, too amused that her persistence did end up paying off in the end.

And so, for the fourth time, she asks him out.

“Hey Gladion, do you want to get breakfast with me?”

“Yes.”

And for the first time, they’re both on the same page.

[allaboutthebooz]

Teenage Dirtbag

Summary: Who knew that one small town, could mean so much to Dean.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: a little over 3,200. opps.

Warnings: Talk of abuse, Angst, Fluff.

A/N: Just a one shot, that I thought would balance out all the bad!Dean from Wish I Was The One. Taking him back to high school. I know, he gets his GED, but it was never specified when he got it, so I went with it. I hope you all enjoy!

In a small town an hour and a half outside of Sioux Falls, students watched as a black Chevrolet Impala rolled to a stop next to the curb in front of the high school. Two boys climbing out of the sleek car. One around 18 and the other no older than 14. The older boy leans down into the window, talking to the person driving the car, before turning to talk to the younger one as they head towards the school. Ignoring the stares of their fellow classmates, they both head towards the entrance. The two new faces quickly becoming the talk of the school. It wasn’t often that anyone new came to town, let alone two new people. What they didn’t know was that the two of them were always the new kids. Moving schools every few weeks.

Sam and Dean were used to the stares. Dean would smirk and wink as he passed by anything with legs. Sam would just keep his head down. Wanting to just get to his classes and wait out his stay. When they reach Sam’s first class for the day, Dean turns to him. “Alright, Sammy. I’ll see you after school. Meet me out front and we’ll walk back to Uncle Bobby’s together.” He says, nudging his little brother’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Dean. I know the rules.” Sam tells him before waving and heading into the classroom.

Dean turns to head to his own class, stopping when someone catches his eye. She’s standing with her friends, laughing. Her black Iron Maiden t-shirt hanging loose around her torso, her jeans have a few rips around the knees, Converse cover her feet, flannel button down tied around her waist. Dean’s gave moves up to her face. She’s barely wearing any makeup, just some eyeliner around her big round eyes. She didn’t need it anyways. He thought she was pretty without it. She wasn’t like every other girl that caught his attention. The ones who wore bright and tight clothing, and more make up than their moms allowed. He wasn’t sure how she managed to catch him off guard like that. Maybe it was her laugh and smile. Both bright and filled with true happiness.

She must have felt someone staring at her, because she looked around before her eyes landed on him. Both staring at the other, until she looked away when one of her friends asked her something. Dean turned his gaze away from her to continue to move to his first class, the first bell ringing along the way.

He finds the classroom and moves into the room with the rest of the students. English. A subject that he could care less about. He stands inside the doorway, watching the other teenagers find their seats. He feels someone move in beside him and looks over at them. It’s the girl from the hallway.

“Excuse me.” She tells him as she moves past him and into her own seat. He takes another look around the room before noticing an empty seat behind her and beside her. He chooses the seat behind her. He looks down at her as he passes her, catching her eye on the way. He sits down and leans forward in the desk. “Hi. I’m Dean.” She turns her head back to look at him.

“Hi, Dean.” She says before looking forward again.

“What? Not going to introduce yourself? Too good to talk to me?” He asks, and he sees her shoulder shake a little.

She turns to look at him again. “Y/N. When you can stop acting so arrogant, then you can talk to me.” Facing forward, she starts pulling her things from her bookbag before laying it on the ground. Just as he opens his mouth to give her a response, he sees a guy that’s dressed almost like Y/N, move down the aisle beside them before leaning down to give her a kiss. “Hey babe.”

Dean can’t see her face, but he’s sure that she’s smiling. “Hey, Michael.”

Michael sits in his desk sideways, smiling at her. He catches sight of Dean out of the corner of his eye and looks at him. Dean sits back in his desk, like he hadn’t been trying to hit on Y/N. “Who are you?”

“Dean. I’m new here.”

“Well Dean, lay off my girl.” He warns Dean, causing Y/N to scoff and shake her head/

“Let’s let her decide that.” Dean challenges, while crossing his arms over his chest.

“Seriously? I’m sitting right here. Can your pissing contest wait until after class?” She tells them both before ignoring them, in favor of the teacher.

~~

Their first week comes to an end. Dean’s leaning against a tree waiting for his little brother to get out of school, watching the other people hanging around on the lawn or hopping into their cars. He catches sight of Y/N and Michael with their group of friends. He’s carrying her around on his back as they all head over to a group of cars. He settles her on the hood of one of the cars, that Dean has learned was Michael’s. A 1990 Chevrolet Camaro I-Roc. Dean watches as he settles himself between her legs and she drapes herself around his back. Talking to their friends for a little bit longer, before the other’s climb in their own cars and head off.

Once their friends are gone, Michael steps away from Y/N and turns to face her. Their happy looks gone, replaced with more serious faces. Dean sees her climb off the hood before giving him a shove and grabbing her stuff. Michael grabs her by the arm, stopping her from going anywhere. Dean kicks off the tree to stand up straighter, ready to help her if she needs it. He sees her rip her arm from Michael’s grip and moves away from him. Pulling her messenger bag over her should, before moving down the sidewalk away from him and towards Dean.

When she’s close enough he takes a step towards her. “You alright?”

She looks up at him. The anger in her face, easing a little. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was nothing.”

“Are you sure? That didn’t look like nothing.”

“I’m fine, Dean. Nothing I can’t handle.” She tells him, adjusting her bag on her shoulder again. He looks past her, to see Michael staring them down. Face full of anger, he climbs into his car and peels out of the parking lot, Causing Y/N to flinch a little.

“If you’re sure. Want me to walk you home? I don’t mind. We just have to wait for Sammy.”

She looks up at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine walking by myself.”

“Well I’m not fine with you walking by yourself.”

She huffs a laugh. “I can take care of myself, but if it will make you feel better, then sure.”

“Awesome.” He smiles down at her. Looking around for his brother, he catches sight of him walking towards them. “Hey, Sam. How was school?”

“Fine.” Was the clipped response he was given.

“Okay. Well this is Y/N. We’re gonna walk her home. Y/N this is my brother Sam.” Dean introduces them.

She smiles down at his brother, “Hi, Sam. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Sam says, moving to walk in front of them. Dean and Y/N look at each other with confused expressions.

~~

The brothers were only supposed to be there a few weeks. Weeks began to turn into two months. The school year was coming to an end. They usually would be begging their dad to come and get them by now. Everyday since that first day, Dean and Sam would walk Y/N home. After that first day, Sam had been in a better mood. He got alone with Y/N. They both had a lot in common when it came to school. They both were book nerds. They were always talking about books that they’ve read. Y/N had given Sam an old copy of her favorite book, Withering Heights, telling him he had to read it because it was a right of passage for anyone who loved books as much as she did.

Y/N and Dean talked music. He learned that they were fans of a lot of the same bands. He also learned that like he and Sam, she grew up with just her dad. Her mom died in a car accident when she was younger. So, her dad was the reason behind her taste in music. They never talked about Michael. Any time that Dean tried to ask about him, Y/N would just change the subject. He knew things weren’t good between them. He saw them fighting every day. He didn’t know what they were fighting about, but it never went any farther, than him grabbing her arm to keep her from walking away from him.

When Monday morning rolled around, and Dean noticed Y/N and Michael weren’t at school, he grew a little concerned. She never missed school. She told him, that she’s had perfect attendance since kindergarten. Something was wrong. He met up with Sam between classes and told him that he was going to check on her and that if he wasn’t back by the time school let out, that Sam was to head straight to Bobby’s and nowhere else.

When Dean reaches Y/N’s house, he notices that her dad’s car is gone. Probably at work. He walks up the front steps and knocks on the door. A couple minutes later, he hears the door unlock and crack open.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” He hears her soft voice ask.

“You weren’t at school. You never miss school.” He tells her.

“Yeah well, there’s a first time for everything. Just go back to school. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She tries to close the door, but his hand stops her. He gives it a gentle shove, feeling her step back at the small force. The door opens more to allow light in and what Dean sees, makes his vision turn red. Her entire face and what he can see of her chest and arms, are covered in cuts and black and purple bruises.

“What the hell happened? Who did this to you?” Dean asks her, already knowing the answer. She just sighs and moves to the side to allow him inside the house. He steps close to her, taking her face in his hands while looking her over. “That son of bitch. I’m gonna kill him.”

She pulls her face from his hands and turns to move down the down hallway that leads into her kitchen. “You’ll have to get behind my dad. If he isn’t dead already, then he will be when my dad finds him.” She tells him, opening the door to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of soda. Closing the door, she turns to him and hands one to him.

Dean opens his, takes a small sip, and places it on the counter beside him. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” He asks, watching her.

“Michael came over last night. I told him that I needed to talk to him. We were standing in the driveway. My dad was working late, so he wasn’t home. Or else this wouldn’t have happened.” Y/N begins to tell him. “I told him that I wanted to break up. All we’ve done lately is fight and I’m tired of it. We aren’t happy like we used to be. We’ve been together since sophomore year and things just aren’t the same.”

“So, he did this because you broke up with him?” Dean ask, becoming angry again.

“Well not at first. We started arguing again. He accused me of cheating on him with you. Called me a bunch of names. I tried to tell him that nothing was going on between us. That we were just friends. It’s not like anything could have happened, because every time we hang out Sam is with us.” She tells him, pulling out a chair from the island in the middle of the kitchen and sitting down. “But he wasn’t listening to me. He already made up his mind about us. Already decided that I was a cheater. He let himself get so mad and then he snapped. Punched me right in the face. We were both shocked at what he did. The most that he had ever done, was grab my arm. So, I punched him back. That was when he lost it. I tried to fight back. My dad taught me how to fight, how to protect myself. But it was like he knew what I was going to do next and he just laid into me. Just kept beating me. By the time he was done, I was unconscious. I woke up to my bad yelling my name and Michael was already gone.”

Dean isn’t looking at her. He just stares at his feet, jaw clenched, hands buried in the pockets of his jack. She can see him processing everything that she just told him.

“It’s not your fault, Dean. If he didn’t use you as an excuse to do this, he would have found one. It was a long time coming. I should have seen it. I should have ended things sooner.”

“Where is he?”  He looks up at her, but all she does is shrug.

“I don’t know. My dad took me to the hospital and the police showed up. I told them who did it, but they haven’t found him as far as I know. My dad’s been at the station ever since he brought me home. Michael better hope, that the cops find him before my dad does. He left with his shotgun.” She laughs.

“He better hope that I don’t find him. I’ll kill him.”

“Dean. Just let the cops and my dad take care of it.”

“How can you ask me to do that, Y/N/N? How do you expect me to just sit here and look at you like this, while that asshole is out there?” He starts pacing the kitchen.

“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m telling you.” Her stern voice softens as she stands up from her seat and stands in font of him, grabbing the sleeve of his leather jacket. He stops pacing to look at her. Wincing at her bruised face. He reaches a hand up to gently touch her cheek. “Please, just leave it alone.”

Sighing, he nods his head. “Alright.”

Smiling up at him, she asks “Want to watch a movie?”

~~

Prom. Every girl’s day to become a princess and every guy’s dream day to get laid. Y/N on the other hand, had been dreading it. She didn’t want to go, but her friends pestered her until she gave in. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Wearing a black velvet slip dress that came to her knees, fishnet stockings, and her royal purple Doc Martens that matched her hair that was pulled up into two messy buns. Adjusting the choker around her neck and making sure she was happy with her makeup, she nodded at her reflection.

She felt self-conscious because she still had a few scars from the beating she had taken from Michael, but she tried to not let it bother her too much. The day that Dean had come by the house to check on her, her dad called her from the station to let her know that they found the son of a bitch and he would be locked away for a while. She’d never felt so relieved. She was happy Dean was there with her that day. They had spent every day since then together.

“Y/N, Dean’s here.” Her dad calls from downstairs.

“Coming!” She gives herself one last look, she smiles, grabs her leather jacket, and heads down the stairs. Smiling wider as she spots her dad and Dean standing in the doorway talking. Both men turn their heads when they hear the stairs creek under her boots. Dean’s wide eyes, making her laugh a little. He dad’s sad look, making her smile fall as she reaches the bottom.

“What? Do I look okay?” She asks her dad.

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head and says, “No, kiddo. You look beautiful. I wish your mom could see you.”

“Dad, stop. You’re going to make me cry and I don’t have time to go and fix my makeup.” Her throat feeling tight as she holds back her emotions.

“I’m sorry. I’m just proud of you. She would be too. You’ve been dealing with a lot these last few weeks and you finally get to go have some fun.” He turns to Dean, “Not too much fun.”

“Yessir.” Was the only response, he was too busy watching her.

“Well we better get going. We don’t want to be late.” She turns her attention towards Dean. Saving him from her dad. She takes Dean’s hand and pulls him out of the house.

The stop next to the car he borrowed from Bobby. She reaches to open the door, but he tugs her back. When she turns to look at him, she’s shocked to see him so close.

“You look beautiful, Y/N/N.” He touches his cheek with his other hand, feeling the heat rise under his hand.

“Thanks, Dean.” Y/N softly smiles up at him.

Without saying anything else, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. When he pulls back, her eyes are still closed. She slowly opens them and looks into his eyes. Her smile growing.

“About time, Winchester.” Making him laugh and shake his head. He leans down slightly to open the door for her. Helping her climb in before moving to the other side of the car.

About 15 minutes later, the school comes in sight. Y/N takes in a deep breath, preparing herself. She becomes confused when instead of pulling into the parking lot, Dean keeps driving. “Did you forget where the school was?” Pointing her thumb back in the direction of the school.

“Nope. Sure didn’t.”

“Then are you going to turn around?”

“Nope.”

“What’s going on?” She asks, staring at him with caution.

“I overheard you talking to your dad about those Iron Maiden tickets that you got. How you wanted to go, but because Audrey and Alison wouldn’t stop bugging you about prom, you gave him the tickets. I called him yesterday and asked if he would mind if I took them off his hands and he gave them to me. I know you didn’t really want to go. You don’t want to deal with those people anymore than I do. So, we’re going to the concert instead.” He glances over at her. Laughing at the shocked expression on her face.

“I was so upset when I gave him those tickets. I got them for us but knew we wouldn’t be able to go because I told the girls we would go to the stupid dance.”

“I know. I would rather spend the night with you at the best concert I will ever go to, than at some school dance. You would be miserable, and you deserve to be happy.”

“Dean Winchester. You amaze me.” She leans over to his side of the car and kisses his cheek. “You’re the absolute best!”

He just smiles and keeps his focus on the road. Putting even more distance between them and the school. Wishing he could put even more distance between them and the small town he had called home the past few months.

Forever tags: @adoptdontshoppets @ain-t-bovvered

[squirenonny]

Hi there!! Wrt you mentioning about team stimming parties, I was wondering, what types of stimming (toys, materials, their own body etc) do you think the paladins enjoy the most, or get the most benefit from. It's really enjoyable image ; w ; but I know some stims can conflict with other peoples needs, so what might be someones fave might annoy someone else. So I wonder what either makes them most happy, or helps them best when needed! (QwQ Those are intense circumstances they all live in.)

I got carried away,,

Keith: Mainly tactile stims, a few visual stims

Textures: there are Good textures, and there are Bad textures, which is why he always wears his same jacket (good texture) and gloves (first line of defense against bad textures–see also my post about Keith’s gloves). In general, wet and cold is definitely Bad, smooth is usually bad. His favorite textures are (a) layered (running his finger over the wrap on his knife and plucking at the edge of a layer) or (b) ribbed (things like corduroy, or the seams on jeans and jackets that have that edge he can catch his fingernail on.)

Repetitive motions: that classic thumb rubbing that we saw in his vlog. These are typically very tiny movements that he tries to hide–he’ll rub his toes together inside his shoe or tap the toe of his boot against the floor.

Deep pressure & buoyancy: Keith is pretty touch averse, so he doesn’t seek out deep pressure often, but if he’s in the right mood a Shiro (or Hunk) Hug is A++. He also needs a blanket to sleep, preferably two or three. Yes, even in the hottest part of summer. Tight pants/shirt are soothing, and ngl he likes his Blade uniform because it’s a more even pressure than the paladin armor, which is too heavy on his shoulders and too thin/flexible where there isn’t the outer layer of armor. On the flip side, he also likes swimming because of the bouyancy. (Interestingly, he hates the feel of rain/shower water falling on him. It’s just too overwhelming. But being in the water and just floating there is v relaxing.)

Visual stims: mostly the way light reflects off his blade when he twists it back and forth and similar reflection/refraction things (light reflecting off water, mirages, the abundance of glowy things in space… he’ll sometimes stare at the crystal on the bridge for the entire briefing–completely engaged with what people are saying, just. Staring at the ceiling. It’s mesmerizing, okay?)

Chewing: rare, but more common as he gets more comfortable around the other paladins. He used to chew on his pens at the Garrison all the time, and one of the reasons he keeps his hair long (aside from not having the spoons to cut it/get it cut and not liking change in the first place) is so that he can suck/chew on his hair. He had to cut it when he first entered the Garrison, and it’s just finally getting long enough to do it again.

The thing about Keith’s stims is that they’re all very lowkey things he an do to calm himself down without drawing anyone’s attention. Probably he had bad experiences at school or in a foster home with kids making fun of his stims or his foster parents/teachers hammering “sit still” and “quiet hands” into him until he completely stopped doing anything immediately noticeable. He used to flap and run around when he was happy, but he doesn’t do that so much anymore. (It’s coming back, though, especially with Pidge and Lance being such big stimmers.)

As a result, his stims don’t really bother the others too much. Lance has a moral objection to Keith chewing on his hair in particular, and if he’s using a chewer, the sound of it sometimes gets to Pidge, but that’s it.

Pidge: visual, vestibular, and auditory stims

Spinning, flapping, bouncing: A lot of Pidge’s stims involve moving around (see the entire time Beezer was onscreen.) There’s a spinny chair in Green’s lab for the express purpose of happy spins, and the team knows to be ready for excited flapping when something Pidge is working on comes out right. (Lance has been hit in the face on more than one occasion because he likes to drape himself over Pidge’s shoulder.) Bounces in place when bored, runs around the castle at odd hours, climbs the other paladins. Very much a “I have too much energy in me and need to expend it somehow” stimmer.

Music: Pidge usually has music playing in Green’s lab–invariably at deafening levels (the bass pulse in your chest is just as important as the music itself). Upbeat songs are best, but any kind of background noise will do. Has started a collection of alien music since this laptop only has a small portion of Pidge’s library (most of the hard drive was dedicated to Kerberos research/snooping on the Garrison.)

Echolalia: Pidge is big into echolalia. (Pidge isn’t the only one who’s big into echolalia. Lance is also a fan, and Hunk usually joins in when they start an echolalia party.) In particular, Pidge will quote movies/TV shows, echo robot noises back at whatever robot happens to be nearby, and make quiet trilling sounds while working on code

Misc visual stims: There isn’t any one thing Pidge goes to for visual stims, but gradual changes (a la screensavers, lava lamps, auroras, glitter jars) have a tendency to turn into time sinks. Pidge has absolutely spent an hour staring at a screen saver without realizing it while idly musing about programming problems.

Repetitive noises: Can be either good or bad. Mechanical sounds, electronic whirring, and other white noise are great. Sudden, jarring, or grating noises are huge Nos. (See Keith’s chewing and some of Lance’s echolalia.)

Pidge’s flapping and running has a tendency to make Shiro tense up, especially if he’s not in a good place to begin with, so Pidge sometimes has to remember to stay chill or just go somewhere else until the energy is gone. Keith doesn’t like how loud Pidge plays music (it hurts his ears), but he respects personal boundaries and won’t turn it down. He’ll leave if he can, and if he has to stay, he’ll get irritated and snappish until Pidge makes the connection and turns down the volume. It’s the only real sticking point between them when it comes to stims, and they’re working on better communication to make sure it isn’t an issue in the future.)

Lance: Primarily vestibular and auditory stims, plus deep pressure

Spinning, dancing, flying: Lance loves to move. He loves spinning and dancing and big motions and G-forces. (He’s a huge fan of roller coasters and other amusement park rides.) Flying is such a stim for him, holy crap. So much so that it can become a problem. Loops, barrel rolls, sharp turns, hard acceleration–he loves the way it all pushes on his body (see also: deep pressure) and the way it makes him hyper aware of the physical sense of motion. Sometimes he pays so much attention to the sensations that he momentarily loses track of where he’s going–which is why he still sometimes crashes/sideswipes the other lions.

Deep pressure: Lance is a very touchy person in general, but in particular he loves hugs and cuddle piles. His favorite thing is to have Pidge sprawled across his lap, or when he and Hunk are sprawled on the couch in a tangle of limbs, or group hugs, or–Yeah. all of the above. Deep pressure feels like home.

Aerial dance: A combination of vestibular and deep pressure stims. Loves the muscle control it requires for the same reason he loves G-forces while flying. It grounds him, makes him aware of the space he occupies. Add to that the pressure of the silks wrapped around his body and the spinning and negative Gs as he drops, and it’s just the best.

Echolalia: Lance and Pidge can have entire conversations in quotes. Lance also makes sound effects for anything and everything (in training, while flying/fighting in his lion, while cleaning, while dancing through the halls.) He sings nonsense tunes a lot and hums both for the sound and the feel of it.

Voices: Conversation itself can be a stim for Lance, regardless of whether or not he’s a participant. The fastest way for him to fall asleep is by having the people he cares about around talking (e.g. his parents laughing and joking as they clean up in the other room, Hunk and Lance talking less and less coherently as they fall asleep in their room at the Garrison, Pidge and Keith up late during a sleepover in the rec room talking in low voices.) Lance doesn’t even need to hear the words; there’s something soothing about the cadence of it. He’ll use TV or music as a substitute if he has to, and he finds it very hard to fall asleep in total silence.

Lance is a dramatic stimmer, so it totally depends on the rest of the team’s energy levels as to whether or not they’re bothered by it. Most of the time, Hunk and Pidge will join in, and the rest of the team at least doesn’t mind. If they’re tired, though, Lance’s raw energy can be Too Much. There were some clashes early on with Pidge until they worked out a system where Lance’s cuddles didn’t get in the way of Pidge’s hyperfocus on a project. Hunk’s cool with all of Lance’s stims except when he’s in the lion/ship Lance is piloting, because Lance’s stimmy rides make Hunk nauseous.

Mostly, though, if there’s a problem, it’s with Keith or Shiro–and even those are pretty rare. Keith is mostly just confused by Lance’s stims, and isn’t bothered by them unless he’s already in a bad mood and wants to be left alone. Then Lance’s big presence can be too much. And Shiro can be set on edge by Lance’s stims for the same reason Pidge’s can get to him: Shiro’s idea of soothing is calm and quiet, and both Lance and Pidge are… the opposite of that when they’re happy and relaxed. Lance picks up on this quick and usually is able to dial it back right away.

Hunk: Taste, smell, and tactile stims

Taste: Hunk must put All the things in his mouth. Tasting alien foods/spices, yes, but also anything. Flowers. Glittery pink snow-stuff. Purple water. He did this with the Olkari headsets, so I mean. It’s canon. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. This bleeds over into tactile stimming, honestly (see: Olkari headset making his tongue itchy. He sounds so pleased by that I just can’t. I love him.) It also has the unfortunate side effect of having put him in a pod more than once because he accidentally poisoned himself. Worth it, though.

Smell: Hunk cooks to calm down for two reasons. One, it breaks him out of his cyclical thoughts and other anxious habits, giving him something else to focus on that’s familiar and controllable. Two, the smells. Some people have scented candles. Hunk has a rack of extracts. Also, like? Flour has a really bland but comforting smell? And let’s not even get into the smell of a finished dish. Cookies? Pies? Bread?? The kitchen is paradise for many reasons, and olfactory stims are one.

Deep pressure: This team is united in their love of deep pressure, tbh. Group hugs are great all around, and Hunk’s only too happy to dish them out. Always glad to be a pillow for one of the other paladins. Wears a thick vest for that extra little bit of pressure around his chest.

Tinkering: There’s something really satisfying about feeling machine parts click into place under his hands–and the oil is only a bonus, as far as Hunk’s concerned. He’ll take things apart and put them back together on an endless repeat just to feel the weight/texture/shape of the pieces. Also great for repetitive motions. See: stimming with the wires and making the sentry bot hit itself while the younger paladins were waiting in the control room in season 1.

Misc tactile stims: Hunk just likes touching things/holding things/fiddling with things. He likes to have something to do with his hands, so even if he doesn’t mean to, he’ll usually find something to play with when he’s bored or trying to focus on something Shiro or Allura is saying.

Hunk, like Keith, has a lot of less obvious stims–though in Hunk’s case it’s less because he’s trying to suppress it and more because his favorite stims are typically ambient things. Put him in a happy environment and he’ll be happy. He’s grossed out almost everyone on the team by the kinds of things he licks/bites, and Pidge gets annoyed when his tinkering turns into fiddling with Pidge’s stuff. Otherwise, he’s pretty chill.

Shiro: Auditory, tactile, and a few vestibular stims

Shiro has two modes: lowkey and highkey

Lowkey Shiro likes things to be calm and quiet. Ambient noises (air in vents, breathing, his own heartbeat) can be stims, but anything that interrupts the (near) silence is a major Sensory Bad. Deep pressure is good when he’s in this state, as is the texture of whatever chair/couch/bed he’s resting on. He’ll be hyperaware of his body, especially its weight, and he’ll run through relaxation exercises or meditation techniques to chase that peculiar calmness that comes when he’s intimately aware of himself and his immediate environment but his mind is completely quiet.

Highkey Shiro, like Pidge, has too much energy and needs to burn it off. He’ll pace or go for a run, or spar, the pounding of his footsteps/clash of his arm on the gladiator’s weapon serving as a grounding force in addition to the release of restless energy. When he can’t leave to burn off energy, he’ll clench and unclench his prosthetic hand, squeeze his arms, and grind his teeth. The repetitive motion and the tug/pressure/pull of it is soothing and helps to take the edge off the frustration/anxiety/overstimulation he’s dealing with.

The most notable thing about Shiro is that almost all of his stims are unconscious–meditation/relaxation techniques being the main exception. He didn’t stim a whole lot before Kerberos, but he does it a lot more frequently after his capture.

As he gets to know the other paladins and becomes more familiar with their stims, he starts to be more deliberate about it–he wears a weighted vest like Hunk’s a lot of the time and usually has a fidget toy with him to stim with during long meetings. Lance also entices him out for relaxing flights in the lions, because as it turns out the sensations of piloting are good for Shiro the same way they are for Lance.

Shiro’s stims don’t bother anyone–in fact, for a long time, no one even realized Shiro was stimming–but he’s by far the most likely to be bothered by the other paladins’ stims. He needs to be in control of his environment, and unexpected/uncontrollable stimuli tend to set him on edge.

[shadow-emerald-gold]

A Cell Full of Memories (Loki x Reader)

So… Hello. I’m not one to usually post things but with this one I thought why the hell not! Let’s put it out there for once. Anyhow, I’m not one for context either so all I’m going to tell you is angst. Straight. Up. ANGST! Angst but some soothing fluff… Depends how you look at it. Takes place during the Dark World. Gif is not mine.

A wooden chair for a defeated King. That’s what Loki thought as he felt himself waste away into boredom, into oblivion, within his white cell. It was an odd colour, Loki further gathered, as it was the complete opposite of how he felt most days of recent. A contradiction. A paradox of riddles and misconceptions that only ever ended in confusing solutions to problems he never wanted to admit.

 Black hair against pale white skin, skin that could then turn sapphire at the drop of a hat. Loki Laufeyson of Asgard was an amalgamation of misshapen attributes. A slim finger ran over his lips as his mind contemplated the position he was in. There was nothing in this cell for him besides four walls, arguably two that were windows made to tease, and books he had read countless times in his youth. Oh yes, his youth. Let’s not forget that, he thought, a time where everything was a literal fairytale ripped straight from the pages of Asgard’s most popular lullabies. Two princes, complete opposites, would grow up together to lead the kingdom into a new era. Loki chuckled at this, the sound coming from his throat. One could describe it as plastic. Fake, manmade, broken and mouldable. It was at times like this when the world had seemingly forgotten him, did he so enjoy then to further ignore it. The fallen king was prized once for his mind and illusions. Illusions that he used to create to trick others and never himself. Now locked away, Loki finds that his mind does it to tease, unconsciously generating images of something better to further rip his deadened heart apart. There was only so much one man could take. Here Loki sat, in his melancholic state, with little to no ambition of ever fixing anything he had done wrong, and closed his eyes to awaken in youth.

Loki knew it was dangerous coming back here. Uncontrollable feelings of rage and hatred festered in the crevices of loved memories that threatened to turn such wistful pictures into portraits of the deceased. However, he discovered that if he didn’t stay too long the darkness would not reach him- not yet. Although the shattered man had described his youth as a myth, there was one single part of it that he would never regret. Never see to change. Never see to deny.  It was the memories with her. The smell of ripened fruit accompanied such images alongside music and colour. She was always in colour. Loki missed her greatly, so much that his heart would shrivel at the mere loss of her memory. One of his favourites resided in Winter. The clean, crisp, cool breeze would fly into Asgard from the mountain ranges and sweep away all the orange and red leaves left behind by Autumn- bringing snow and ice. There was something unremarkably beautiful about this particular season in Asgard. There was no ferocious hail storms or howling winds that slammed against people’s homes. No. The hands of Winter would caress those who came to bask in the white wonderland that it created. It was about midmorning when Loki would take (Y/N’s) hand gently and walk with her to the stables. She admired the frosted season just as much as he did. The woman would laugh and smile to him, only him, as he helped her onto his white stead, took his position behind her and wrapped a thick, blue velvet blanket around her frame. They would ride together. (Y/N) would talk of times apart from Loki whilst the prince held her close until they would switch and she would lean back into him, listening to his voice. Oh he loved her with all his being. A simple girl whose father was a traveller between Midgard and the golden realm- often returning with things to study or taking things to sell. (Y/N) stayed and took care of the house whilst he left for months on end. She never minded though. Needless to say, to the court the woman was a commoner but to Loki she was a queen. His queen. 

“I feel as though Winter has come so quickly though it seems to have outdone itself from last year,” (Y/N) sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “It must compete with you, my dear. Beauty such as yours is not easily rivalled,” the young Prince answered sweetly, leaning down and kissing her cheek briskly. A red tinge swept across her face reminding him of sweet strawberry jam. “You indulge me, my Prince.” “Would I lie to you?” It would go on like this for hours as they were carried through trees decorated with ice, flowers dancing with frost, stags standing watch amongst the dampened wood and snowflakes skating across the breeze. Loki always noted how enchanted she was by nature, how she attempted to appreciate every single detail. (Y/N) was exquisite. Perfect and in his arms. All he wished for was there in her. Acceptance he seeks to find from his father, love he often received from his mother, friendship he felt he lacked from the Warriors Three and Sif and a mind to challenge his own much like Thor- though that was often because the older brother was stubborn. Every inch of him was devoted to her; from his fleeting thoughts to the blood that heated from (Y/N’s) touch. Silence had fallen between them as Loki helped her dismount. An arm wrapped around her waist, drawing  the woman closer as they gazed out over the fractured lake. Though they did this almost every Winter, it was this specific day that Loki held so close to his heart. A very moment that makes him who he his. “Loki…” “Yes, my love?” She swallowed, hoping to gain some courage. Her soft hands fiddled with each other as her eyes drifted to the snowy ground.

“Will it be this way forever?”

Forever, Loki concluded, was a vague word. To a mortal, forever is one hundred years if they’re lucky but to Gods… It depended if war decided to strike them down early or not. That’s how he thought now but then… Back then forever was a day at a time. Forever was a life with (Y/N). Forever was love. Forever was feeling. He saw tears run down her cheeks, priceless jewels that he hoped would be a rarity. Loki hated to see his love cry. Quickly he wiped those tears away with the gentle touch of his thumbs and kissed her. It was always warm and delicate. They were there together in a single moment. His fingers would weave through her long locks of hair, comparing it to strands of silky gold, and pull her closer still. Always closer. How naive he had been. How utterly stupid Loki had acted. It was hard to believe the man in the cell was the same man in his memories. The fallen king was bitter now. Bitter and sombre. They pulled away, feeling each other’s heated breath across their lips. Time stood still.

“As long as we’re together, forever means nothing to me. Time is irrelevant because you are the one thing that changes me, takes me through my immortal life day by day. When we are together you are my forever,” he murmured, husky but true.

(Y/N) said his words were beautiful. Back then, a silver tongue did more then insult and maim. Loki was a prince. A real prince. He never heard himself speak like that now. Now every word was poison to someone. She took his kind mind with her. He was never the same. He never could be again. Loki hadn’t realised he’d been crying until he felt tears tickle his neck and the taste of salt entering his mouth as some coated his lips. He had stayed for to long. The man attempted to make happiness his reality again. He needed to cry as Loki felt (Y/N’s) warm eyes begin to slip away into darkness- into the back of his mind. Lungs began to tighten along with his throat. His whole body began to constrict as he endeavoured to conceal it all. Shove it back down. Suppress it. A scream was lodged under his tongue as his jaw clenched. Loki could feel his nails dig into his palms. A part of him was begging for it all just to come out. Just scream, Loki, scream. Scream. He needed her. Scream. He wanted her. Scream! He ached for his beloved. Scream. How would she see him now? Scream, Loki. Would she even still love him with all the blood on his hands? Loki, scream. She would hate him. He erupted in one explosive convulsion, head tilted up to Valhalla and mouth wide open as a wail that could rival a banshee’s echoed through the prison. By Odin’s beard it broke him. Tore his chest open and left him limp on the chair almost lifeless. He could feel it claw at his insides, his soul, his heart and mind. It was him scratching and biting but he didn’t care. He deserved it. All he wished for in these moments of pain was for (Y/N’s) hug- just her touch alone. Loki felt used, a fractured mirror of what once was. He didn’t notice the guards watching in awe as their prisoner continued to screech and yelp; usually so silent.

“Forever? I have died here. I have died without you. What more am I to a corpse in the ground? What more does my shattered title mean to the executioner? It means nothing. I mean nothing now. Nobody has bothered to help me and it all began when they stole you from me. Valhalla, I beg of you, ease my suffering now and just take me to your glory. Allow me to see my (Y/N) again. Take me to her… I beg of you.”

[dulma]

On the circle jerk of the art world

Tom Wolfe, author & journalist, is good at being scathing. Case in point: The Painted Word a brief diatribe against what he perceives to be the falseness and pretension of an elitist art world in a capitalist society.

I don’t know enough about art or the art world to agree or disagree with what Mr. Wolfe claims, but I do care deeply about art and its role in civilization. How it can help us, fix us, express us, or how it can’t. 

His ideas, though, strike me as useful departures for my own future research, especially w/r/t Abstract Expressionism, my new obsession. Also—God knows I love a good contrarian, so here are some key points I’ve synthesized from his spirited lambast. For my own reference, mostly. Thanks, Tom.

Art must have its theory, i.e. the dictum du jour. “modern art has become completely literary” 

Realistic 19th century painting dubbed “literary” thereby spawning its rebellious successor movements, i.e. l’art pour l’art

Braque: aim of art is not to reconstitute but constitute “a pictorial fact” 

Artists left the royal courts & salons and by 1900 aimed to shock and subvert the bourgeois 

Now the artists had to be boho & avant garde (sincerely) but also in le monde

“Public? The public plays no part in the process whatsoever. The public is not invited” 

(This question is of importance to me. Art as public artifact vs. art as private commodity/investment—note to self: explore the ethics and utility of these roles, and whether they are conflicting or mutually generative)

The art world is a mere 10,000 souls 

“a mere hamlet!” restricted to les beaux mondes of eight cities 

Modern art enjoyed a huge boom in the States in the 1920s because that’s when the cultured bourgeoisie began to love it 

Imported from Europe to the US not in a bohemian rebellious spirit but institutionalized by the Rockefellers via the establishment of the MoMA in late 1920s 

Art theory used to be something that enriched conversation 100 years prior but now it was “ an essential hormone in the mating ritual” 

(Touché, Tom Wolfe.)

The bourgeois art world needed theory to understand the direction of modern art 

Why did theory blow up? 

1. the art world is tiny

2. le monde always looks to the bohemian artists for the next thing

3. the artists are made up of “cénacles” where if one dominates art and has one core theory, that theory comes to dominate all of the art world during that period 

This is what happened post WWII during Abstract Expressionism & when NY replaced Paris as center of the art world 

Greenberg’s theory of flatness and Rosenberg’s Action Painting became big theories picked up by le monde. Peggy Guggenheim then discovered Pollock, beloved of Greenberg, and gave him a place and money and set him off 

“First you do everything possible to make sure your world is antibourgeois, that it defies bourgeois tastes, that it mystifies the mob, the public, that it outdistances the insensible middle-class multitudes by light-years of subtlety and intellect — and then, having succeeded admirably, you ask with a sense of see-what-I-mean outrage: “Look, they don’t even buy our products!””

Pop Art was then a reaction against Abstract Exp. 

It was even flatter. Jasper Johns chose flat real life objects and made them look super flat. Like the flag. 

“Wasn’t there something just the least bit incestuous about this tendency of contemporary art to use previous styles of art as its points of reference?” 

(What else would you use? All major art forms are institutionalized in some way—literature, film, etc.—and draw upon its predecessors, are in conversation with lineage and history. I don’t see this as inherently “incestuous” but in practice in the art world perhaps it’s extreme or problematic... explore further)

Pop Art succeeded not because it rejected Abst. Exp’s premises of moving away from realism, but because it did AE one better: even higher level of not realism. Somewhere that was not abstract nor realistic but based on signs 

Abstract Expressionists were too grim and antibourgeois, too bohemian. The Pop artists were right at home in the cultured world of the bourgeois 

Steinberg: Modern art always “'projects itself into a twilight zone where no values are fixed'” and “'it is always born in anxiety'” and its function is to “'transmit this anxiety to the spectator'” to provoke “'genuine existential predicament'” 

“If you hated it — it was probably great." 

Pop Art was full of cultural and literary ironic commentary and allusions. Op Art, which came after, was also very literary in that it was heavily grounded in theory. Theory was taking idea of painting as real object and turning it into object of pure perception 

Greenberg made a comeback with a new theory/style: against the brushstroke. 

All of these movements were a movement towards reduction, stripping away - first of 19th century realism, then representational objects, then the third dimension towards flatness, then brushstrokes. 

Is that enough? Hardly. 

Minimalists came and stripped away the “sentimental” colors and used gritty or ugly ones 

Got rid of the frame, the hanging up of pictures, the square canvas 

Rosenberg & Greenberg (though sort of rivals) and others were against this - new style was “‘too much a feat of ideation.. something deduced instead of felt and discovered.’” 

Then we got rid of the very idea of wall. 

Moved into installations. Then museums (Earth Art). 

What about idea of a permanent or even visible work of art? so next came Conceptual Art where they said it wasn’t about permanence and materials but the process 

And then they took away idea of visual imagination altogether - piece called Vacant by David R Smith 

My thoughts on this (provisional):

Art movements destroy to create. This is also true in literature, in everything. I find this a natural human impulse. We are meaning-making animals, and art is our way of exploring/expressing this process, and meaning is made inevitably by a destructive-creative process. Learning—and thus growth—is by necessity an act that displaces the dictums of yesterday to make room for the new. So I question Wolfe’s implicit resistance to the deconstruction of every assumption inherent to “art,” but I’m willing to challenge the “destroy for destruction’s sake” imperative, insofar as it is what drives the movements of art today. It sure seems that way, but I assume there’s more there, and the “more” is perhaps as varied as the people who further it.

To ask a naive question that probably Real Art has long since abandoned or mocked until it breathed its last, what about beauty???? As a layperson who wants to believe that art has a public role and some inherent value where beholding it can do something good, even by disturbing us, I often find myself lamenting the un-beauty of contemporary art. That this is probably because I don’t “get it” only further entrenches my sense of alienation from this world of art. Is there respite to be sought in, for example, outsider art? 

Perhaps the answer is as simple as a simple comparison: take music. There is no possibility of defining “beautiful” music; we like what we like, and different people like different things. There are ways to get into a piece and understand what it’s trying to be and to judge it on that basis (also like a book) but no absolute criteria are possible because of the infinite variety of creative possibility. But even so, music and literature seem to me more accessible, somehow, than art. Less conceptual in the way art can be, more inclusive in terms of the gap between what the gatekeepers would deem worth canonizing and what we would claim to enjoy as outsiders.

To what extent do artists themselves (as if it’s a homogeny) want the “public” to “get” or “like” their art? A lot rides on this question I guess.

The beauty of the disturbing and the disturbing of beauty. Would this summarize where we find ourselves today?

(I suppose you could say beauty is taken out of the equation, but you could also reframe that as the expansion of the territory of the beautiful to encompass all, exclude nothing. Ironically. The murder of beauty and the expansion of it to include everything is the same thing, conceptually speaking.)

What I wish existed and whose absence consumes me to no end every time I enter a museum: a summary (impossible) of the timeline of the canon and what/who gets included and what/who gets excluded and why. Note that I’m not issuing the ignorant layperson’s tired old challenge of “My 5-year-old could do that.” I don’t mistake technical skill involved or duration of labor for the Good, but I do want the implicit curatorial values to be made legible, because I’m in a capitalist system that more often than not exacts a price from us to view or own art but I am then paying to engage with something whose value I don’t understand and am expected to receive fully by merely looking at something without the language or conceptual framework to understand its value, all while contributing to that value, reinforcing it. That seems like a scam to me (forgivable) but also like intellectual hypocrisy (unforgivable).

All of this is a rambling record of first impressions re: the art world and my access to an understanding of its values & criteria. Obviously a way to answer my own questions is to examine the world itself, anthropologically, and dissect its political/cultural/social/financial underpinnings. To learn the common answers, debates addressing these small questions of mine. Which I intend to.

But that these are the questions begged when one confronts the whole system as an ignorant layperson is worth noting in itself, I think, because it draws out some assumptions that are contradictory. Assumptions that imply that art is good and we should look at it and pay to look at it. Assumptions that also imply that beauty is not art and skill is not art and accessibility is not art. 

So then what is art? And who gets to decide? We spend our lives taking for granted the fact of a museum, of an art history curriculum, of a canon of famous men and (sometimes) women who have made what we consider “Great Art” without ever being satisfied with a good explanation of why, how come, who says? Especially today?

[lv-ha]

Surprising Confessions

Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: you and Remus haven’t seen each other since leaving Hogwarts for the summer holidays and when you finally get to spend some time alone, he confesses a surprise to you.

Words: 2012

A/N: Okay so this is the first thing I’ve written in a while and is the first imagine I’ve written on here, so please forgive me. This was originally supposed to be a blurb from a prompt given to me by a friend for a first kiss between the reader and Remus but I was watching friends while I started brainstorming what to write and I ended up using a prompt from the show.(in the episode where it’s Thanksgiving and Chandler gets mad at Monica and to make up for it, she puts a turkey on her head and dances around to cheer him up.) Anyway if you haven't seen the episode I highly recommend it, it's hilarious. Anyway, I hope you like it :)

Remus and yourself had been friends for as long as you could remember. You knew about his lycanthropy and had for some time now. You were one of the only people that Remus was fully comfortable around, other than his three trouble making, partners in crime. Before you both came to Hogwarts, you often kept in touch and visited during holidays, but after you were both sorted into Gryffindor you became almost inseparable. The bond you had was growing and over the years developed into a beautiful relationship. It wasn’t until 5th year that the marauders convinced Remus to ask you on a date, on which you spent the day sitting by the lake with a picnic full of food that James and Sirius nicked from the kitchens.

He was so shy while asking you and this was a side of Remus you rarely saw anymore. He had always kept to himself and was closed off from others but you had allowed him to open up. This combined with the confidence he gained from his closest friends meant that you hardly ever saw the quiet and timid part of him anymore. This persona caused new feelings to spark inside of you. You always loved Remus as a friend but new emotions were growing inside of you that were completely foreign.

You became official about halfway through 5th year and you spent every waking minute attached at the hip. Some of your free time was spent lounging in the common room or about the grounds together and although most of your time was spent preparing for your O.W.L.s, neither of you cared as long as you could do it together. After the stress of examinations, you could not wait to just relax and not have to think about studies for a whole summer holiday. However, the thought of not getting to spend your free time with Remus made you a little sad. Not that you cared about being apart, but you had become accustomed to having him around whenever you needed him or wanted to hang out. You also knew that a full moon was nearing and although James promised to watch out for him, you hated not being there to comfort Remus afterwards. This would be the first full moon without you in almost a year and Remus dreaded the fact that you wouldn’t be there to help him recover afterwards. He loved having you near him, even if it was just a simple touch on his hand to reassure him that you were still there and not going anywhere. You were slowly falling for him and him for you.

After the full moon, you hadn’t heard from him, nor any of the other boys, in a few days and this started to worry you. Had it been a bad transformation? Had something gone wrong? Why hadn’t anyone written to tell you what had happened? All of these thoughts clouded your head as you grabbed a piece of parchment and quill from your desk.

             Hi Rem,

             I know its only been a few weeks, but I miss you so much and I hate that I can’t be there to help you right now. It’s making me nervous that I haven’t heard from you or any of the others in a while and James promised me that he’d make sure you were okay. He told me that he would write the minute everything was back to normal. Please tell me that everything is okay? If it is you can tell him he better watch out the next time I see him because I’m going to hex him into oblivion for not keeping me updated. I hate not being there with you guys and I miss all of you. Mum misses you too and she suggested that, if you all want to, you can come and stay at mine for a few weeks. I personally do not think that mum knows what she is getting herself into, inviting James and Sirius together is going to be an explosion waiting to happen. But if you want, you could stay a little longer so we can have some time together. I miss just hanging out with you. Anyway, write back soon, hoping you are well and the reason James never wrote back is that he broke both hands. Miss you. Xx

Y/N

You prayed everything was still alright as you ran down to the kitchen window to send off your letter with your family owl. She gave you an affectionate nibble as you stroked her feathers before tying the letter to her leg. As you gave her a treat, she flew out the window and hopefully would get to Remus soon. You hated not living close to each other anymore, but you understood why his family constantly had to move around and you were glad that he was near James, Sirius and Peter now.

Not long after you received a note from James, apologizing for not writing sooner and begging for you not to hex him, as he knew how good you were at some particular hexes. It was probably the quickest response you ever got from him and you laughed, imagining what happened when they received Remus’s letter from you. He said that everything was okay now and even if Moony said he was fine, it was a hard full moon and he missed you terribly. James was ecstatic that he and the others would be coming to visit and could not wait to visit your mum. James promised to be on his best behaviour and could not wait to come in a few weeks. For the next little while, you helped your mum prepared the spare rooms and went to Diagon Alley with your parents to pick up a few things for the boys stay. It was so great to see some of your friends again and you wished that they could have spent more time with you. Your parents loved all of the boys and could not wait to go and visit James’ parents later in the summer. You spent the time you had outside and relaxing mostly, it was nice to have friends around after a few weeks of boredom. However, it was even nicer to have your boyfriend around again. You never wanted to let him out of your sight and he never wanted to let go of you. After all the boys had gone to sleep, you and Remus would sneak out to the garden and watch the stars, while he told you about what had been happening since school let out. You could tell that he was still down from not seeing you as often as he liked and it was obvious that the last full moon had taken so much out of him. He was exhausted all the time and had a sad aura surrounding him.

After a long goodbye with the other three Marauders, you were excited to finally have some alone time with Remus. It wasn’t that you didn’t get to spend time with him while they were there, but you didn’t want to flaunt your relationship around in their faces. It was nice to have time to yourselves every now and then and it was one of the things you missed most about Hogwarts. You watched muggle movies and snacked away on cookies your mum had made, snuggled close while Remus read his favourite book and even went into Diagon Alley on a date, stopping to get ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s and Remus wanted to stop into the second-hand bookstore to see what he could find. Even after all of this, you could tell that he was still down and thinking about the upcoming full moon. When you came home from Diagon Alley you both went up to your room, just wanting to spend the time you did have left, together.

“Mum?” you called as you climbed the stairs to your room. “Dad?” you called again. “I guess they aren’t home,” you said turning to Remus as he climbed the stairs behind you. The smile on his face was so pure and you could hardly notice the faded scars upon his face. They were something you hardly noticed anymore and as your relationship grew, so did your want to make sure he was happy. Remus plopped down onto your bed and you heard him groan as he stretched out across it, his lanky figure taking up most of the space. You sauntered over to your record player on your desk and turned on a new muggle band that Sirius had told you about, he always had such good taste in music and you enjoyed pretty much everything he gave you. You were quite musical yourself and loved to dance, so new music always made you smile. You knew that when you were happy Remus would be happy and if your plan worked out the way you wanted he would be smiling in no time.

You started to sway around your bedroom as the record spun around on the turntable and giggled when Remus looked at you funny. “What are you doing Y/N?” he laughed light-heartedly.

“Come dance with me, Rem, pleaseeeee” you whined as you shimmied your way to the edge of your bed. You knew that your ridiculous dance moves would make him laugh and hopefully dance along with you.

“Can’t we just cuddle for a bit, I’m so tired and I just want to relax.” He sighed and sat up as you placed your elbows onto the bed giving him your best pouty face. When he didn’t seem to respond to your antics, your dance moves grew more obnoxious and ridiculous, Y/H/C hair flying in all directions. “…I’ll take that as a no then” Remus laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed in hopes to catch you in his arms.

“You’re so lame Lupin,” you teased as you danced a little closer to him, grabbing his arms and pulling him to his feet. The both of you laughing uncontrollably as you started moving his arms in exaggerated movements to match your own. The smile that lit up his face was enough to warm even the coldest of nights and your heart was the happiest it had been in weeks. His laugh rang out and was like music to your ears after the weeks of hurt he had been through.

In the middle of all the laughter, you almost missed his heartwarming confession to you, “You are amazing Y/N,” you giggled as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “I love you.”

You froze and your erratic dancing ceased. The only noise in the room was the music coming from your record player. “What?” you said in a surprised tone. He had never told you that he loved you before. Even though you had been together for a few months now, you both were taking things slow. You had no doubt in your mind that you both cared deeply for each other, but you had no idea that he loved you.

“I said you are amazing, and then I just stopped talking, nothing else…” he said a blush spreading across his face and your face lighting up as he got embarrassed.

“You said I love you,” you laughed, smiling as you flung your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms, causing the two of you to fall back onto your bed. Laughing, you looked into each others’ eyes and smiled. “I love you too by the way” you grinned as Remus pulled you into his chest and planted his lips onto yours, the two of you melting into each other.

“I’m so glad you said it back…” he mumbled as you parted and both of you burst into laughter again. A happy smile making its way onto his face.

“I’m so glad to see you genuinely happy again” you smiled, ruffling his already messy hair and rolling off of him to flip over the paused record.

[facadesmiled]

A REALLY LONG CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES.  repost , don’t  reblog  ! tag  10  ! good  luck  ! TAGGED.  @maxabre​ ( thank you mate ! ! ♥ ) TAGGING. Imma tag some of my new followers, so @suitshinigami​, @hackinggod​, @pareidae​, @animaltamerbeast​, @bcwtruckled​, @hypnohatter​ and also @kniifethrower​, @godschose​, @solisnumen​, @moanaialiki​, and... oh heck, whoever feels like it. You go guys. *thumbs up*

❤ FULL NAME :  Edmund John Clemence Taylor NICKNAME : Joker ( technically his name / alias, since his real one is unknown. ) AGE : 25 BIRTHDAY : April 2nd, 1863 ETHNIC GROUP : English NATIONALITY : English LANGUAGE / S : English, some French and German. Learning Spanish currently. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Asexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Panromantic. Has no preference to either women or men. Basically swings every which way. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Is normally single, though is mainly dating Beast or Clopin ( @pitroi​ ). CLASS : Circuses don’t really have a set class. Though, as he was adopted by Baron Kelvin, he technically is from a high class. HOME TOWN / AREA : London, England, specifically the East End. CURRENT HOME : the grounds of the Noah’s Ark Circus. Secondary home is the manor of Baron Kelvin.  PROFESSION : Ringmaster and part time clown of the Noah’s Ark Circus, Joker leads his family and enjoys making their audience laugh. Behind the vibrant curtains, however, he’s a kidnapper for Baron Kelvin; he kidnaps children and kills anyone who gets in his way. In the Alive!AU, he works tech and backstage in general at an Opera House in London.

❤ PHYSICAL. HAIR : Ginger, hangs down a little bit past his ears when not pulled up. Tied into little braids at the back, which are bleached at the end and hang down to the top of his back. EYES : A vibrant purple colour. FACE : Very soft and gentle, with little lines around his eyes and corners of his mouth from where he’s been smiling all the time. He also normally wears makeup, though it’s mostly around his eyes. A light blue teardrop made of facepaint droops down from his left eye. LIPS : Average sized, though occasionally covered in some kind of clear gloss. A little snaggletooth can be seen peeking out from the side. COMPLEXION : Not exactly pale, but not exactly a normal white skin tone either. He’s somewhere in between. BLEMISHES : Not really considered a blemish, but he has freckles that he hides with makeup on his face, and is also peppered with them on his shoulders and upper back. SCARS : Generally all around his body. Joker has a missing right arm, obviously. Though other than that, he has a bullet hole scar in his upper left shoulder on his back from where he was shot once on a kidnapping mission. There’s also some cuts on his forearm from mishaps with his swordcane or a knife. On his back as well are general scars from where he’s been beaten, both by Kelvin and by people on the East End. And finally, there’s a small burn mark on his butt from where Jumbo’s fire got.... a little too close to him during a show. TATTOOS : N/A HEIGHT : 6′1″ WEIGHT :  Not entirely sure. BUILD : Average body size, but curvy. He’s stronger than he looks, even with a missing arm. Most of his muscles are in his legs. FEATURES : A skeleton-shaped prosthetic right arm. ALLERGIES : N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE : Pulled back by pins until it looks something like a lion’s mane. A small but hangs over his left eye, directly over his teardrop facepaint feature. The longer, bleached pieces of hair are in small braids and cascade down his back. In the Alive!AU, it’s all short and down ( a little bit past his ears, like in canon ) and the longer pieces have been cut off, though occasionally he clips back his bangs when he’s working. USUAL FACE LOOK : Smirk, casual smile, or a full blown ( often fake ) performer's smile. USUAL CLOTHING : His circus outfit, which consists of a white dress shirt, a ruffled elastic belt that hangs loose a little at the end, a grey and black diamond vest, big yellow bow, black poofy pants with grey diamonds on the side hem, black and white curly toed boots, and a purple coat that adorns his shoulders that has gold trim and diamonds on the ends of the sleeves and bottom. For a full reference, see here and here. When not in his circus outfit, he wears a normal Victorian style suit, as his other job is a butler. The only circus-y thing about this suit is a black and grey diamond bow at his neck- it’s not as big as the one on his circus outfit though.

❤ PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Loosing those he loves, being abandoned, death, life after death, heights, people finding out what he really is, his family receiving a terrible fate of some kind. ASPIRATION / S : Getting his family ‘ over the hills and far away. ‘ Nothing else matters. POSITIVE TRAITS : Caring, cheerful, joking, helpful, consoling, sympathetic, encouraging, positive in general, complimentary, passionate. NEGATIVE TRAITS : Liar, stoic, full of self-hatred, rarely lets people in, negative in mentality, strict, oblivious, basically a living, breathing, walking facade of a human being. ZODIAC : Aries

TEMPERAMENT : Melancholic: The melancholic temperament is fundamentally introverted and thoughtful. Melancholic people often were perceived as very (or overly) pondering and considerate, getting rather worried when they could not be on time for events. Melancholics can be highly creative in activities such as poetry and art - and can become preoccupied with the tragedy and cruelty in the world. Often they are perfectionists. They are self-reliant and independent; one negative part of being a melancholic is that they can get so involved in what they are doing they forget to think of others. SOUL TYPE / S : Caregiver: If you recognize yourself as a Caregiver, you may already have noticed the tendency to put others’ needs ahead of your own. This trait makes it essential that you go out of your way to take care of yourself as well as those around you. Remember that you’re no use to others if you’re not healthy or fit enough to help them. You are loyal to the extreme, and you guard those who are entrusted to your care with your life. Fighting another person’s battles can be important if that individual is unable to stand up for themselves, though you should be cautious not to disempower those in your care by not allowing them to do things for themselves. Your empathy allows you to understand nonverbal emotional signals. This ability will tell you when someone needs your help, and how best to assist them. It is common for Caregiver types to intuitively know what someone needs at any given time. VICE HABIT / S : Drinking ‘til drunk, spiraling into numb depression, holding in emotions. VIRTUES / VICES: Charity, diligence, kindness, patience. / Pride, sorrow, wrath. FAITH : Believes in God, Jesus, Angels, the Devil, ect. No set religion though, just general beliefs.   GHOSTS ? : Definitely. He believes in all manner of the supernatural. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes- and he’s scared of it. REINCARNATION ? : Yes. He feels like a spirit can choose to be reincarnated, if they so wish to be. ALIENS ? :  Maybe? In a modern verse, he probably would. EDUCATION LEVEL : Just basics- how to read and write. He wasn’t taught much else at Kelvin’s manor. Performance style education is high, obviously. He knows his way around the arts.

❤ FAMILY. FATHER : Unknown birth father / Baron Kelvin MOTHER : Karen Taylor SIBLINGS : The first tier of the Noah’s Ark Circus, and the circus in general really. Also, the children at Renbourn Workhouse. EXTENDED FAMILY : N/A. NAME MEANING / S :  The name Edmund is derived from the Old English elements ēad, meaning "prosperity" or "riches", and mund, meaning "protector". HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : N/A. ( Thanks Yana T. :/ No I’m kidding. Really. I swear. )

❤ FAVORITES. HOLIDAY : Christmas! He loves the joy and cheer, and also giving out gifts. MONTH : November. SEASON : Autumn. PLACE :  London, since that is and always will be his home. Though, he also like Paris! WEATHER : Snow, or a brisk fall day. SOUND :  The bustle as the audience dims down to silence, in anticipation for a show. SCENT / S : Anything that reminds him of a stage. TASTE / S : Caramel! Also cheese. FEEL / S : Being warm when it’s cold outside, the slight heat from stage lights, getting tingly from excitement, joy, fluffy things. ANIMAL / S :  Any and all! COLORS :  Purple, orange, and yellow!

❤ EXTRA. TALENTS :  Juggling, cracking jokes, leading, preforming, singing, playing a few instruments- he can do a lot.  BAD AT : Opening up to people, high wire/tightrope ( he did it once- never again ), thinking things through. TURN ONS : N/A. Asexual, and doesn’t really care for it, regardless. TURN OFFS :  See above. HOBBIES : Attending all kinds of shows ( operas, orchestras, musicals, other circuses, ect. ), reading, practicing his skills, writing small poems or short stories. TROPES : Above Good and Evil: He didn’t care what he had to do, as long as he thought it would save the other children.

All For Nothing: He believed he was protecting his “brothers and sisters” back at the Renbon Workhouse by obeying Kelvin. After he and all the first-tier members of the circus die because of it, Ciel and Sebastian find the Renbon Workhouse abandoned. They assume Kelvin allowed Doctor to kill the children for his experiments with artificial limbs. Joker and the rest died for nothing.

Knight Templar Big Brother: He will do anything for his foster siblings, even kidnap children because his demented “father” makes him believe he’s protecting his brothers and sisters back at the Renbon Workhouse by doing so (although there are actually no children there anymore).

My Master, Right or Wrong: No matter how much he hates to kidnap innocent children and force them to perform in dangerous shows in which they die gruesomely; if that is what his “father” wants he will do it, since he’s still the man who saved him and his “siblings”, and the one supposedly protecting the other children at the Renbon Workhouse.

Not So Different: To Ciel. When he begs Ciel to not kill Kelvin he states that the man is the one who saved them and is helping all their friends at the orphanage. Even if Joker and the others had to do commit horrible actions to further their cause, he still feels it’s right if it gives all the abandoned children a better future. Ciel’s response shows that he understands their need to better themselves, even if it’s at the expense of other people, and replies: “To save your own skins, you obeyed him and sacrificed others… You fought to protect your world. What’s wrong with that? In the end, "justice” is just an official line taken by those in power to serve their own ends. No one’s looking out for others. If you’re careless, you’ll be robbed. There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who steal, and those who are stolen from. And today, I steal your futures. That’s all this is.“ AESTHETIC TAGS : circuses, stages, blood over flowers,  fairy lights, autumn leaves, warm colours.

❤ FC INFO. MAIN FC: Himself ALT FC / S : N/A OLDER FC / S : N/A YOUNGER FC / S : Also himself VOICE CLAIM: Mathew Mercer ( see the BOC dub, here. ) Singing voice claim, Miura Ryosuke ( see the Noah’s Ark Circus musical, here. ) GENDERBENT  FC / S : N/A