#i am always careful but yeah pointing and waving my arms and shrugging like a sky dancer in the name of walkability for all

[chartreusebird]

My hobby is exaggerated pointing at the yield to pedestrians signs as cars blow past

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n and Lando are arguing, y/n confesses her feelings in the heat of the moment, and Lando kisses her

thanks for your request anon! sending hugs and kisses.

tw: fem!reader, she's hella short, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 733

you cannot remember what you were fighting about anymore. what you do remember is that it started because some girl had hit on lando and you had gotten jealous. of course you were far too prideful to admit that the thought of lando with anyone else except you made you feel sick to your stomach, so instead you just gave him the silent treatment. was it wrong of you? for sure. did you feel bad? were you going to give in, admit you were in the wrong and apologise? fuck no.

"i don't get why you won't just tell me whats wrong! you always fucking do this! all i wanna do is help and y'make it extremely difficult!" lando yells. well it's a half yell half just talking extremely loudly at you. you frown as his voice raises in volume.

"there's nothing to tell you. i'm fine." you protest, arms crossed over chest as you stand in the middle of your shared kitchen. your standing still while lando is pacing around the place like a madman. you understand why but it does not make you any less jealous.

lando runs his hands through his hair with a deep sigh as he tries his best to calm down.

"look, if you aren't telling me because you think i'll be mad or get upset or whatever, i promise you i won't. i just wanna make you feel better, honey." his voice is significantly softer than before and his face seems less uptight too. the sight makes you happier because you were worried that you had gone too far with this whole thing. all you wanted was for lando to know that entertaining that girl had hurt your feelings but you could not find the confidence to do it. the driver watches as you hesistate.

"c'mon, love. you can tell me anything. you know that." lando utters, hands coming to run up and down your arms.

"i'm fine." is your reply. lando loses it, stomping away from you.

"fucking hell!" he shouts your name, frustrated.

"don't shout at me. you're the one not listening. i said i'm fine." you reply, feeling yourself rise up to match his level of frustration. lando scoffs at your words, clearly not believing them at all.

"yeah, sure and if i didn't ask you what was wrong then i wouldn't care about you or your feelings but if i do then i'm - what even am i doing wrong right now? how can i possibly be in the wrong right now when all i want to do is care about you and your feelings?" lando says exasperated. his hands coming to run through his hair again, making it ten times as messy.

"i just said that you're not listening to me and you've just proved my point! all i want is for you to listen to what i say!" you shout back at him, arms waving in the air.

lando stares at you and for a minute, for the first time in twenty minutes, the apartment is quiet. it is only seconds later that lando is striding towards you and smashing his lips onto yours. your immediate gasp helps him deepen the passionate kiss as his hand grips the back of your neck. you react as soon as his tongue touches your own. your own hands coming to grip at his shoulders. the kiss is sloppy and kind of pathetic until you pull away, panting for air.

"why," you breathe out, trying to catch your breath. "why did you do that?" you ask the brit, eyes staring into his own.

lando gives you that smile before replying "you told me to listen to you more and i thought i heard you say kiss me." he shrugs. you so badly want to roll your eyes at him but affection takes over your body instead as his cheesy grin makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"and next time, i would appreciate if you just told me that you were jealous instead of me trying to force it our of you." lando whispers in your ear, the feeling of his breath so close to your skin sending a wave of goosebumps down your arm. you scoff as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck as he laughs, the fight already forgotten about. seems like all you needed was a kiss or two.

[onboardsorasora]

Ok, I saw this post and laughed soooo hard, and I couldn't let it go. So here is some crack.

Max glared at Vicky as she sighed long-sufferingly. He didn’t think he understood the words she just told him. By the look on her face he knew this wasn’t a marketing joke– but boy did he wish it was.

“You are not serious.” He deadpanned, blue eyes flat.

“As an engine failure, Max.” She shrugged. “Because Sky took umbrage to what you said, the FIA are penalizing you for breaking the sporting code. So your punishment is to do the grid walk before the race today or get a 10-place grid penalty.” 

“Ten places is just exorbitant.” Max tch’d.

“You said that Sky are a bunch of wankers sucking off the stewards who don’t care about real racing on a hot mic.” It was Vicky’s turn to be deadpan. “I’ve seen no less than ten tiktoks with that audio.”

“Of course, I will just take the grid drop then.” Max shrugged, folding his arms. 

“I already spoke to Hannah and GP and they strongly suggest just doing the grid walk. You only have to talk about the car and four celebs. That's it.” She bartered, Max tch’d again.

“This is ridiculous. I, of course, am still correct about their caring about real racing.” He complained.

“There’s like a bunch of celebs on the grid, just talk to four you don’t know then you can jump in the car and drive.” 

“Fine.”

“And no cursing or calling anyone an idiot.”

“.....fine.”

— - —

Max stood in front of the cameraperson and producer, glaring down the lens with this flat bitchface pout. His racing suit was done up, post anthem, Martin stood beside him grinning gleefully. 

“Hello Max, lovely of you to join us today on the grid walk.” Martin sounded chuffed and Max wanted to bite him.

“Lovely to be here Martin.” Max smiled in the way he did when he was forced to do stupid marketing videos. He saw Vicky biting her manicured thumb out of the corner of his eyes. Martin was rambling on about something and then pointed to Max expectantly. 

Max looked at him for a moment before turning and walking away. He stood in the path of someone trying to take a picture in front of the Ferrari that was lined up beside his RB20.

“Hello, who are you?” Max asked, pressing the mic in their direction. The yet to be named celebrity did a double take before smiling widely in excitement. 

“You are Max! Stellar driving yesterday man!”

“Lovely. Thank you.” Max turned and walked away, the producer and cameraperson rushed to catch up with him. “That is one.” Max muttered before stopping again beside a woman.

“Hello, who are you?” He asked again. The blonde woman smiled.

“Hello Max, my name is Margot Robbie, big fan.”

Max smiled a little, “oh you are Australian? Daniel is also Australian. Lovely.” Max walked away.

“You are supposed to interview them, talk about the cars.” A producer said in his ear, Max shook his head– no one said anything about interviews. 

“That is two.” Max said instead. He walked towards his car and pointed to it. “This is my car. It is lovely, we are of course on pole today.” He turned and pointed to the gleaming red Ferrari. “Charles is p2.” He turned around again and waved to the cars behind them. “Of course, all of the other cars are there. I, of course, cannot go all the way back there because it is almost race time and this is st– Daniel qualified p5, lovely for him. Hello Daniel.” Max grinned when Daniel stopped beside him and tugged his headphones off his ears.

“Hello Maximus, have they finally recruited you for Sky?” Daniel joked and Max laughed.

“You know they are always trying.” 

“Don’t stay too long on this side gig yeah, can’t have you doing all these side quests and still winning everything.” Daniel winked and patted Max’s shoulder before walking off. Max watched him go with a blushy head tilt, touching where Daniel touched him.

The producer cleared their throat in Max’s ear, his bitchpout returned. “That is three.” Max muttered.

“That doesn’t count, he’s a driver.”

“Daniel, of course, is also a celebrity.” Max pointed out before stopping infront of someone else. “Hello, who are you?”

“Good afternoon Max, Barack Obama here–”

“Lovely. That is four.” Max turned to the camera and raised a brow. Martin popped up beside him, melting out of the crowd. The cameraperson turned to him just as Vicky and three other RedBull personnel came to stand beside Max. 

Max yanked the headphones off of his ears and turned away, he nodded at Barack Obama and walked over to his car to complain to GP. 

Max won the race by 40 seconds and ignored all Sky Sports questions in the pressers.

[moon4nge1]

Haikyuu!! Imagine

Pairings! Atsumu, Osamu, Suna, Oikawa, and Kuroo x f!reader (implied)

Prompt!

⤻ “don’t you know who I am?” He asked, his eyes narrowed at you. You nodded your head, “of course I know who you are. I just don’t care.”

✧ ☽ ✧

Atsumu Miya

His eyes widen in shock, surprised at your response. “What do ya mean ‘ya don’t care’?” He questioned you back, putting up air quotes after repeating your words. You only shrug your shoulders, “I mean I think your popularity is overrated. Like you play volleyball plus you are good looking-“ he cuts you off. “Hmm so you also think I’m good looking?” He teases, leaning towards you. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing his head away, “if you would’ve let me finish, I was going to say, ‘to others, but to me you’re like an average guy.” He can only grin, not seeming to acknowledge your words. “Nah ya think im pretty.” He smiles wide, wrapping an arm around you, much to your protests. “Ahhh it’s alright, everyone joins the ‘Tsumu club at one point”

Osamu Miya

He looks surprised for a spilt second before it disappears. “Hmm you don’t have to lie. It just makes you seem more desperate.” He muttered out, about to turn on his heel and leave. Your eyebrows scrunched together at his words. “Excuse me? I’m sorry but not everyone is your little fan girl Miya.” You exclaimed, your arms crossed against your chest as anger builds within you. He lets out a sigh, “ya right that was a little rude of me, sorry. But seriously I’m not falling for the whole ‘im not an admirer’ thing. It gets old” he groaned, his hand coming up to rub at his face. You can feel a little sympathy for the younger twin in front of you grow, “geez, I’m actually starting to feel bad for you. It happens that much for you to accuse everyone for it?” Your tone was soft, and didn’t hold any previous anger. He looked at you suspiciously, he couldn’t tell if you were being honest with him right now. You shrugged your shoulders, “well consider me not a fan, seriously. I mean you’re very talented, but I’m not going crazy over it like your fans.” You snort, finding it ridiculous how one can go crazy over this boy. He rolled his eyes, “I guess we can be friends.” He stated out of nowhere, catching you off guard. “W-what?” You almost chocked on your saliva. He grins, walking away. “See ya later y/n” he waves to you in the air. You’re left standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway as Osamu turns the corner. “Wait how do you know my name?!” You call after him, but didnt get a reply back as he was already across campus.

Rintarō Suna

“Really?” He questioned, suspiciously eyeing you. You nod your head again, “I don’t know what they see in you honestly. Don’t get me wrong, you’re amazing at volleyball, but outside of it you’re just so normal.” You shrugged you shoulders. He let out a hum, nodding his head. “Well most of the girls are really after the Miya’s” he shrugged, “I can’t tell you how many times a girl has came up to me just for the twins” he grumbled out, annoyed at how many interruptions he gets a day. You let out a low whistle, “well if it helps any better, I’d very much rather pick you over the twins any day” you stated before quickly adding, “still not going to be fan though!” He let’s out snort, nodding his head. “Alright, whatever you say.” He grabs his phone, and a sudden panic fills you. “Wait I’m being for real! Ugh I was just trying to, I guess, cheer you up?” You rushed out, but it sounded more as a question than you clearing the air. He can only grin and pretend to scroll on his phone, amused at how you’re trying to defend yourself.

Tōru Oikawa

He gasped dramatically, his hand placed over his heart. “No way, there’s no way that you’re not whipped for me.” He states matter-of-factly, only making you cringe a little. “Ugh seriously do you always act like this?” You question eyeing him weirdly. He drops the act, letting out a sigh. “Yeah that was a little over the top” he gives you a cheeky smile, before leaning towards you a bit. “Hmm are you sure you’re not whipped for me though?” He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips. You take a step back surprised, “are you trying to seduce me!?” You accuse, and he immediately stands straight. “N-no I was just.. gosh no why would you think like that” he groans out, his arms outstretched in front of him. You try to hold in your laughter, but fail. “I didn’t expect you to fall for that” you said between laughs. Oikawa has a pout upon his lips as he watches you try to compose yourself. “You’re not funny. That was not funny.” He grumbled, crossing his arms. You wipe away fake tears as you slowly nod your head, “it was little funny.” You guys bickered back and forth, and he couldn’t help but to enjoy having a nice interaction with someone outside his team.

Tetsurō Kuroo

He smirks, “sure doll, whatever helps you sleep at night.” You let out a huff of air, “see this is exactly why I don’t understand how girls fawn over you.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. “Like seriously, the cocky-ness is just too much” he shrugged his shoulders, “it’s not everyone’s cup of tea,” he eyed you. “But hey maybe I can change that” he flirtatiously said, which only earned him a scoff in return. “Yeah, hard pass. I’d much rather stick with being a watcher than a fan.” You stated. He quirked an eyebrow, “if you watch me doesn’t that make you fan?” Your eyes widen slightly, before you’re shaking your head, “listen I can enjoy talent when I see it. But to go out of my way to gain your attention? No way” you clarified. He couldn’t help the smirk that made its way to his lips, “whatever helps you sleep at night doll.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you to walk after him. “I’m serious Kuroo, do not think I’m going to fawn over you!” He only hums in response, a smug look on his face.

©moon4nge1 - please do not steal, copy, or repost on any other platforms without my permission!

✧ ☽ ✧ ps. I hoped you enjoyed this! This is my first time writing an imagine, so I hope it’s good! NOT PROOFREAD!!

[ninjadeathblade]

Shopping Trip (Lego Monkie Kid fanfic)

Summary: The majority of the gang goes shopping. Then Wukong and Macaque play video games.

Warnings: Brief threats, Wukong and Macaque have issues to work through (they're also very dumb about the fact they love each other), swearing

Word count: 6,072

Author's notes: This would NOT leave me alone so here fandom, take the gays residing in my brain for the last two days. Sandy isn't here because I had no idea what he'd be doing. This is 90% indulgent Shadowpeach content for myself but hey, that's something. This is set post Emperor's Wrath. Enjoy.

“Hey, Monkey King, why d'you always wear your fancy robes?” MK questioned after the three of them took a break from training.

Macaque stifled a laugh, looking over at Wukong and revelling in the confusion on his face.

“What do you mean?” Wukong asked around a mouthful of peach flavoured crisps, crunching noisily on them.

MK shrugged and gestured. “You and Macaque always wear your fancy clothes whenever you come and just hang out with us, you can't be comfortable in it.”

“Look, kid, I hate to break it to you but we don't actually own any other clothes,” Macaque replied.

“I can make some though!” Wukong exclaimed, one hand already reaching to yank hair out of his head.

MK and Macaque rushed to stop him, the former tackling his hand still holding the bag of crisps, while the latter reached through a shadow portal to grab his wrist.

“Quit it Wukong, you already eat enough of your hair as it is, no point in you wearing it as well,” Macaque said with an eye roll.

MK’s eyes went round as saucers. “Please tell me that those crisps aren't hair.”

Wukong averted his gaze with a nervous laugh. “Whaaaaat? No, pfft, I'm not that- er-”

“Monkey King! You promised to start eating proper food!” MK whined, poking him in the cheek.

Wukong sighed. “Yeah yeah, I am, kid, I promise, now can I have my arms back?”

Macaque glared at him over MK's head, getting a returning glare.

MK gasped and jumped up, waving his arms wildly. “Oh my gosh, I know just what we should do?”

“Yuh-huh and what's that?” Wukong asked.

“Mei keeps telling me about this super cool new shopping centre that opened up the other week!” MK explained. “What if we all had a day out there and you guys can pick out some comfy clothes for hanging out with us?!”

Macaque shook his head. “Look, kid, I appreciate it but-”

He went silent as something yanked his tail, head whipping around to catch another tail quickly retreating to Wukong's side.

Oh that little-

“It's an amazing idea!” Wukong replied with a grin. “Let us know when you want to do it and we'll be there.”

“Funny how you now speak for both of us,” Macaque muttered, opening up a shadow portal beside him and reaching through to yank Wukong's tail.

The king turned to glare at the warrior, Macaque shooting him a shit-eating grin in return.

“Okay! I'm gonna go, I'm working this evening but I'll see you guys for training again tomorrow!” MK said before beginning to run back down the mountain. “Thanks again for the training!”

A beat went by before the two of them turned to each other.

“You know you could be more supportive of the kid,” Wukong snapped.

“Me? Really? Last I checked you were the one who abandoned his training!” Macaque argued, standing up. “Because that's what you always do isn't it? The great Sun-Wukong who always puts himself first.”

Wukong's jaw clenched, tail lashing behind him, and for a moment it seemed like they were going to fight again.

Then the king's shoulders heaved and his posture slouched. “Can we not do this right now?”

Macaque rolled his shoulders, the joints clicking slightly. “Running off again?”

“Can you stop?!” Wukong shouted. “I don't know what you want from me but you're not gonna get a rise. I'm done with this - with you always trying to bait me into another fight. I have people to look out for now.”

Macaque scoffed. “You can't tell me you actually care about the kid.”

“Bold words from someone who also cares about him,” Wukong retorted and Macaque's fur bristled. “Oh yeah, don't think I haven't noticed. While I was off doing very important things, you kept showing back up. Some part of you does actually care about MK, be honest.”

“Nope, doesn't sound like me,” Macaque stated, tail tapping against the ground twice as he opened up a shadow portal. “See you around, Monkey King.”

Wukong dashed forward, one arm outstretched. “No, wait, Macaque-”

The darkness surrounding him.

Silence.

Well, it wasn't quite silent, it sounded like everything was muffled and underwater.

Macaque took a deep breath, artificial air expanding his lungs.

Wukong was still there although it was like seeing him through murky glass, thumping a fist against the shadows on the ground before giving up and walking away.

Macaque floated in the inky expanse, debating on whether or not to return to his dojo before deciding that he would just stay here for now.

It was peaceful.

It was everything that outside wasn't.

~•~

“Hey boi!” Mei cheered, tackling MK into a hug before waving at Wukong. “Heya Monkey King!”

“Hey,” Wukong waved, pulling his loaned hoodie further over his head. “Hey bud, you sure that no one's gonna recognise me in this?”

“I dunno honestly but if not you can transform, right?” MK argued.

“Fair point.”

“I still do not understand why I have to be here,” Red Son complained, foot tapping impatiently. “If we are all here then can we go already?”

“No, sorry, we're still waiting on someone else,” Tang answered.

“Who else are we waiting for?” Wukong questioned. “The pig guy?”

Tang adjusted his scarf. “Oh no, Pigsy is at that food stall over there shouting at the chef because he sold us half baked churros while we were waiting.” He paused. “Speaking of, I'm going to go stop Pigsy before he ends up in too much trouble.”

“Literally who else would MK invite?” Wukong's eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don't even understand why Red Son is here.”

“Hey!”

“I swear if you invited Nezha then this is going to be the most boring shopping trip ever.”

“Ugh, I wish he'd invited Nezha, then I'd have someone else to make fun of you with.”

Wukong spun around with a curse, glaring at their final arrival, who hadn't even bothered with a disguise.

“Great, just great.”

Macaque shrugged. “Hey, I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. Only reason I'm tagging along is that I was planning to grab some food anyway.”

“But we're meant to be clothes shopping,” Mei interrupted, eyes watery as she stared up at the warrior.

“Yeah Macaque, you promised,” MK added, also staring up with large eyes.

“Look kid I didn't-” The warrior paused and sighed. “Fine, I'll buy some clothes. But I'm picking what I get, not you guys.”

The two of them let out a cheer and rushed back over to Red Son, beginning to drag him in the direction of a shop.

“I cannot believe that I'm gonna have to put up with you today,” Wukong groaned as the two of them set off after the trio.

“Hey, you're the one who volunteered me for this so if there's anyone to blame it's yourself,” Macaque responded.

Mei and MK had seemed to immediately start piling clothes into their arms, occasionally thrusting some pieces into Red Son's arms.

Wukong stumbled backwards slightly when MK seemed to just appear in front of him, holding up two pairs of pyjamas. “Hey Monkey King! Should we get these matching Monkey King™ pyjamas?”

“Hey kiddo, I'm wearing a disguise for a reason so maybe keep your voice down,” Wukong chuckled. “But yeah, absolutely.”

The king turned to glare at Macaque when the warrior snickered.

“Something funny?”

“No, it's nothing,” Macaque lied, one hand coming up to try and cover the smile on his face.

Wukong let out a loud, over-dramatic gasp. “Are you making fun of my bond with my apprentice? Are you making fun of our super duper cool friendship?”

“No,” Macaque sputtered, trying to get his laughter under control.

Wukong leaned in, poking him in the face. “You are! How could you?”

Macaque stopped trying to contain his laughter at the theatrics, golden eyes screwing up tight as he nearly doubled over.

Wukong's smile wavered as his gaze flitted across the warrior's face.

He knew realistically why Macaque would cover up his eye.

Seeing his unmarred face and having these moments made it almost seem like nothing had ever gone wrong between them.

When Macaque straightened up again he shot Wukong a quick glance, accompanied with a shy smile before returning his attention to the shop in front of them. “C'mon then, no point standing around all day. Gotta find you something to wear other than pyjamas.”

“Yeah and we've gotta find you anything to wear,” Wukong teased. “What do you even wear? Like, leather jacket and grunge aesthetic boots.”

“How the fuck do you know what an aesthetic is?” Macaque swore, turning back to face him.

The king shrugged nonchalantly and grinned. “What can I say, I guess I'm just cool like the kids are.”

The warrior snorted. “Yeah right, the day that you're cool is the day I haven't died before.”

A silence fell between them at that comment and something flickered over Macaque's features.

Wukong reached out to him before the shadow slipped away from him, walking over to a rack of darkly coloured clothes.

There was so much they still needed to talk about.

Macaque flicked through the different hanging articles before smirking. “So, what about the fact that Red Son has a crush on either MK or Mei?”

“Wait, what?” Wukong spluttered.

“When the three of them were together back there, Red Son was blushing and stuff. Can't tell which of them is making him fall for them but I'm not actually that surprised.”

Wukong stood stock still for a moment, doing a mental reboot while Macaque moved on.

“Wait, no, hold on you little shit, are you for real?” Wukong questioned.

Macaque nodded. “When we catch up to them, just watch. I wouldn't lie, would I?”

“I dunno, seems like you lie a lot.” Wukong narrowed his eyes dubiously.

“Well, I'm not lying about that.”

They wandered for a little longer before managing to catch up with the trio.

Okay, Wukong had to hand it to Macaque, Red Son did seem to be blushing.

“Hey, Monkey King, you made it! We lost you back there!” MK cheered before turning back to Mei. “Ooh, Mei, do you still have the thing we picked out for Macaque?”

“Kid I don't-”

“Found it!” Mei announced, holding up the black mesh shirt.

Macaque's gaze dragged over it before extending a hand. “Okay, I'll try it on.”

Wukong did a double take. “You like mesh?”

“Haven't tried it before but it looks cool enough. If I can get something to go over it then I'd probably like it.”

Red Son held up a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt from the pile in his arms. “Something like this?”

Macaque shifted the first shirt in his grip before reaching out for the other. “Sounds good.”

“Oh and there are some dark coloured jeans by the changing rooms, wanna grab a pair of those?” MK offered.

“Mhm.”

Wukong trailed behind the bunch of them, briefly wondering where Tang and Pigsy had gotten to.

Him and MK plopped down onto a bench just outside the changing rooms, MK's stack of clothes beside him.

“I'm gonna try them on after the others have tried theirs,” MK explained. “Wait a minute, why don't you have anything Monkey King?”

“Um, well, I just didn't see anything I liked all that much, bud,” Wukong lied.

“Oh okay.”

The boy got out his phone, playing some obnoxiously loud game while they waited for the others to get changed.

“Okay, we're done!” Mei called after a while.

“Come out then!” MK shouted back, shutting his phone off and putting it back in his pocket.

“Macaque, you coming?”

“Nope.”

“Aw, come on, pretty please? You look great!”

“...Fine.”

Mei stepped out, practically dragging Red Son and Macaque with her.

And wow, Macaque actually looked kind of good.

The clothes actually suited him.

The warrior wrenched Mei's iron grip off his arm before grumpily crossing his arms over his chest.

“Woah, you guys look awesome!” MK gasped, clapping his hands together.

Macaque rolled his eyes and frowned when he looked over at Wukong. “Quit staring, Wukong, don't you know it's impolite?”

Wukong smirked. “Thought you said I was impolite.”

“Yeah, I know that you are. Doesn't mean you have to give me more reasons for it,” the warrior complained before looking over at Mei. “Hey, can we wrap this up and buy this stuff already?”

“Nu-uh, we've still got loads of outfits to try on! You and Monkey King can wait here while we finish checking all these sick clothes out,” Mei replied.

Macaque grumbled something under his breath before going back to the changing room.

Three pairs of eyes turned to Wukong. “He's just always kinda cranky, trust me.”

“I heard that!”

~•~

“Ugh, how much sugar did you even put in that thing?” Macaque asked, nose wrinkling with disgust at the sweet scent coming off of Wukong's drink.

Wukong moved the glass away from his face, a bit of cream smeared on his nose. “Um, I dunno. It has chocolate, ice cream, sprinkles, some more chocolate, some normal cream, some kinda sweet milk, caramel-”

Macaque reached out and grabbed the drink out of his hand while he was distracted listing ingredients, holding it out of his reach. “You are going to clog an artery if you have that much sugar.”

Wukong pouted. “Macaque! Gimme back my drink!”

Macaque opened up a shadow portal under his hand, hovering the drink just above it. “You aren't going to have all of it to yourself or you will die.”

“I'm immortal, I can't die,” Wukong retorted.

Oh yeah.

“You aren't going to have it all to yourself or I'll steal all the wine you're hiding at your place.”

Wukong's eyes went wide and he leaned across Macaque, desperately attempting to grab it. “No! No! Fine, I'll share! Just gimme the drink!”

Macaque dropped the drink through the shadow portal, watching as Wukong's face fell.

As the king turned back to the table the warrior opened a portal again, depositing the drink - now with two straws - back in front of him.

“Come on, if you're going to clog an artery then I might as well do it with you.”

Wukong shot him a quick glare but moved the glass so it was between them.

Red Son slid back into their booth. “They're still ordering but wanted me to say they'll be back soon.”

Macaque glanced over to the counter where Mei and MK seemed to be arguing over the menu of sweet treats.

“May I ask a question?” Red Son asked.

“You just did,” Wukong teased.

The boy rolled his eyes. “May I ask another question after the one I am asking at this moment?”

“Mmmmkay.”

Macaque lowered his head to take a sip of the drink, throat burning at how sickly sweet it was.

He'd never understand how Wukong could stomach these things.

“Are you two in a relationship?”

Macaque choked on his drink and Wukong hit him on the back a few times while replying.

“No, never! Me? With him? Tch, as if! He's so- him! And I'm so me!” The king answered.

Macaque gulped in a lungful of air after recovering. “This is the one time we agree on something and it's that we are not a thing. I hate him, he makes me feel like my skin is on the outside and my fur is on the inside. I'd rather have my heart served up on a platter to the Lady Bone Demon than go out with him.”

“Ew, did you have to be so graphic?” Wukong complained. “You're gonna put me off my drink.”

“Good. It tastes like shit.”

“Because you have no tastes.”

“I do have tastes. Anyway, you seemed to conveniently leave out the fact that this drink is peach flavoured.”

Wukong shrugged and smiled. “It's my favourite.”

“You sure you didn't make this out of your hair?” Macaque questioned, lip curling in disgust.

Red Son huffed. “No, I paid for his drink. And there's no need for you two to be so defensive.”

“We're back!” MK announced, flopping down against Red Son's side. “What did we miss?”

“Ah, yes, you are back,” Red Son flustered.

Macaque and Wukong shared a look.

So that's who Red Son liked then.

“Duh, that's what I just said,” MK laughed.

“We ordered every dessert they had!” Mei announced.

“Oh no,” Macaque whispered.

“Oh yes,” Wukong purred, eyes lighting up. “Desserts for everyone!”

The warrior dropped his head to rest against the table, grimacing at how sticky it seemed to be. “Why did I ever let myself be dragged along here?”

“Because you're our friend!” MK said.

“Greeaaaat.”

~•~

“Omg, these stationary sets are so naturecore, I have to have them for my aesthetics blog,” Mei gasped.

Wukong nudged Macaque to grab his attention before whispering. “Hey, d'you have any idea what that means?”

“No idea,” Macaque admitted. “As established earlier, I know aesthetic but that's about it.” The warrior smirked. “Aren't you the one who's ‘cool like the kids are’?”

“Shuddup,” Wukong laughed.

Macaque's tail flicked up to hit him in the back of the head before looking around. “So, we kinda lost Pigsy and Tang at the start.”

“Yeah, it'll be fine,” the king replied calmly, waving it off.

“Maybe for you. I for one would like to not be on kid sitting duty for the next decade.”

“It's only been two hours,” Wukong stated, snickering at the defeated groan Macaque let out. “What's wrong? Too old to keep up?”

“Wha- no,” Macaque denied sourly before continuing. “My feet hurt though. I'm not used to walking around this much. Usually I just use my shadows to get places.”

Wukong sighed before holding out his arms.

The warrior stared blankly at him.

“Climb on, I'll carry you,” the king offered.

Macaque immediately began to walk away from him. “Nope, nu-uh, never happening, find someone else prince fucking charming.”

“Come on Macaque, your pride won't be that wounded if you let yourself take a break,” Wukong whined, following him.

The shadow’s tail lashed behind him as he walked through the aisles of the shop, trying to catch up to wherever the other three had run off to. “I'll take a break when I get home later. Feet being sore isn't the worst thing I've had to deal with.”

Unspoken words hung between them and Wukong followed Macaque silently until they reached the trio, staring at row upon row of cards.

“Hey guys, whatcha looking at?” Wukong inquired, propping his head on MK's shoulder.

“We're helping Mei pick out a card for her dad's birthday,” MK explained.

“You could make one,” Red Son added. “Although didn't you say it's tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Mei groaned. “I was so busy helping MK train that I forgot.”

“You forgor,” MK said.

“I forgor,” Mei affirmed.

Wukong straightened back up, whispering. “What language is this?”

“No idea,” Macaque said.

“No idea what?” Mei asked.

“Nothing.”

“‘kay.”

Wukong smiled at Macaque.

The shadow returned it with a small quirk of his mouth.

It wasn't much but it was better than it had been.

~•~

“That's it, I am not being dragged into a spa, I'm calling Pigsy,” Macaque said, digging his phone out his pocket.

“You have Pigsy's number?” Wukong asked beside him before continuing. “You have a phone?”

“Yeah, and?” Macaque tapped onto his contacts. “Got Pigsy's number after the kid crashed out at my place one time. Also he makes good noodles.”

“I know right?” Wukong agreed, mouth practically watering.

“Hello! Pigsy's Noodles, how can I-”

“Cut the crap Pigsy, your kids are trying to drag me into a spa and I know that you and Tang are still somewhere in this shopping centre.”

“Oh fuc- okay, where are you guys, I'll come and get ‘em,” Pigsy sighed.

“Seventh floor, top right corner, next to the arcade place.”

“Wait, there's an arcade place next door and they chose to go to the spa instead?” Tang questioned.

“Red Son is trying to convince us all to get princess pamper sessions before we get wrecked and lose all our money to useless games,” Macaque explained.

“That'd do it. We'll be there in a few.”

Macaque hung up, quirking an eyebrow at Wukong's sad expression. “What do you want now?”

“You're gonna ruin their fun,” Wukong complained, gesturing at where the three others were currently crashed out on a bench.

“No, I'm just getting us the rest of the evening off,” Macaque argued.

When Wukong still looked upset he sighed.

“If I play your shitty game this evening will that make it up to you?”

Wukong brightened up. “Yes! Although it isn't shitty, take that back.”

“Maybe. Depends on how good your game is.”

Macaque looked over at the trio. “Hey, Red Son, a word.”

The boy seemed sheepish as he walked over, a sharp contrast to his usual confident demeanour. “Yes?”

“You break MK’s heart and I'll break all your bones,” Macaque snarled quietly.

“Okay so you're just coming out with it,” Wukong muttered.

“P-pardon?” Red Son stuttered, hair letting off embers.

“You aren't subtle. So you heard me. If you break his heart, I will break all your bones.”

Red Son swallowed thickly. “Y-yes sir.”

“Good.”

MK walked up beside them. “What're you guys talking about?”

“We were just saying goodbye,” Wukong supplied, somehow having come up with a good excuse for once in his long life.

“Oh cool. I'm sleeping around Red Son's tonight so won't be able to make it to training tomorrow, is that okay?” MK said.

Macaque subtly shot Red Son a glare while he replied to MK. “That's fine, see you in a few days kid.”

The warrior opened up a shadow underneath himself and the king.

“No, no, no, no, no, not the shadow portal!”

~•~

“Ugh, I think I'm gonna throw up,” Wukong complained as he dropped out of the shadow portal.

“Too bad, you fly your cloud recklessly and the shadows are quicker,” Macaque replied, dropping down beside him before opening up their shared bag of shopping purchases and grabbing out a handful of clothes. “I'm gonna get changed then I'm ordering actual food for dinner.”

“But my way is cheaper!”

“Yeah, and it'll have you hacking up furballs until your eventual death, Wukong,” Macaque snorted, shutting himself into the bathroom.

Wukong rooted around in the bag and grabbed out one of the plain shirts he'd picked out, slipping off his robes and putting on the black t-shirt before grabbing a pair of loose blue jeans out of the bag.

The king settled down on the sofa, aimlessly flicking through channels on his TV until his tail brushed against someone else.

Wukong lifted his head up, staring at Macaque.

The warrior practically had a halo of light around his head from the setting sun behind him, a sliver of yellow fabric visible under his dark hoodie.

“Hey. You up for burning off some energy?” Macaque proposed and Wukong was in his feet within seconds.

“We haven't fought in ages,” Wukong sceptically tested.

Macaque shrugged. “Nothing serious. But I need to stretch out my limbs and test how flexible I am in these clothes.”

Wukong dragged his eyes up and down Macaque. “Mhm, because ripped jeans are gonna be sooo easy to move around in. Prepare to be beat.”

Macaque smirked, sweeping out one leg and knocking Wukong off balance.

“H-hey! No fair!” Wukong growled, reaching up and tugging Macaque down with the edge of his hoodie.

The warrior let out a squeak, collapsing down beside the king before going still.

“Oh shit. Macaque? You good, bud?” Wukong questioned, moving closer.

Macaque spun around, hands catching Wukong's and pinning them against the floor. “I cannot believe you just fell for that.”

“Yeah, well, it's been years since you played that card while we've fought,” Wukong argued, one leg kicking out and into Macaque's stomach.

The warrior's grip on his hands loosened, allowing the king to flip the two of them over as he hovered over him.

His hands closed around Macaque's, mimicking the move just used on him.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” Wukong challenged.

Macaque just laughed and rolled his eyes, opening up a shadow portal underneath himself.

Wukong pulled back, watching as the other sank into the floor and disappeared before a weight crashed down on his back.

“Fuck! Macaque!”

“Got you now,” Macaque taunted, the two of them rolling back and forth until Macaque pinned Wukong down.

The warrior was just shy of sitting on him, chest heaving as he breathed.

Wukong sighed. “Yeah, alright Mac, you win, now get off of me.”

The shadow paused, golden eyes staring at him.

“What?” Wukong inquired.

“You haven't called me Mac since- since before,” Macaque stated, his grip on Wukong's hands loosening.

Orange and pink hues of light shone off of his dark fur.

It was beautiful.

He was beautiful.

“No, no I guess not,” Wukong murmured.

Macaque rolled onto the floor beside him, both of them staring up at the ceiling.

“So, if Red Son does break MK's heart we are absolutely going to ruin his life, right?” Macaque questioned.

Wukong rolled onto his side, staring at Macaque.

Tufts of dark hair stuck up in different directions, framing his face.

The king reached out with a hand before hesitating when the warrior flinched, eyes closing.

A long moment passed, before Macaque quickly got up, with a mumbled sentence. “I'm going to order dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wukong responded, mentally kicking himself.

Of course Macaque still didn't trust him, why should he?

After everything Wukong had done, he had no reason to.

“Hey, Wukong, how many portions should I order you?” Macaque asked, one hand muffling the bottom of his phone.

“Three, if that's okay,” Wukong answered.

Macaque nodded before continuing to quietly speak to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Wukong walked back over to the sofa, sitting down and trying to avoid looking at his friend.

Huh.

When had he started thinking of Macaque as a friend again?

The other side of the sofa dipped as weight settled down on it.

“I'm sorry for flinching,” Macaque whispered. “Really going against my therapy goals.”

Wukong blinked before looking over at him. “You go to therapy?”

Macaque's tail wrapped across his chest, curling over his opposite shoulder. “Well, I'm trying. Kind of hard though when most therapists are mortal and I have issues with opening up about things from my past.”

The shadow let out a deep breath before slowly relaxing against the king's side. “Is… is this okay?”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Wukong flustered a bit, shifting so that Macaque would be more comfortable.

Wukong turned so his back was resting against the arm of the sofa, one arm circling around Macaque's waist.

The warrior tensed under his touch slightly before relaxing back against him, pillowing his head on the king's chest. “You sure you're okay with this?”

“Geez Mac, I'm fine,” Wukong responded. “Are we gonna start playing my game now or d'you want to wait until after dinner?”

“After dinner. I want to get some rest in,” Macaque sighed, opening up a shadow portal over the top half of his head. “I'll wake up when the food gets delivered, I'll hear it. You should get some rest too.”

“Yeah alright. You get some rest.”

“Thanks Wukong.”

“No problem bud.”

~•~

Macaque's ear flicked inside the portal as footsteps ran up to the door of his dojo.

“Hold on,” he murmured to Wukong, unsure whether his friend was even awake before sitting up and slipping his upper body through the shadow portal.

“Knock knock!” The delivery boy shouted as Macaque reached over to open the door.

MK grinned and held up the couple of bags in his arms. “Hey Macaque! This is more than you usually order.”

“Yeah, well, I've got company,” Macaque said evasively.

“Is it Monkey King?”

“Nah, I have other friends,” Macaque lied, reaching out with one hand for the bags. “Aren’t you meant to be staying around Red Son's?”

“Yeah, I'm headed there after this,” MK explained.

“Have a good sleepover, kid.”

“You too Macaque!”

“No, kid, I'm not having a-”

“Bye Macaque!”

The shadow sighed, shutting and locking his door before slipping back through the portal to Wukong's house.

The king was still passed out on the sofa, snoring at an obnoxious volume.

Or perhaps it was actually quiet, and Macaque's sensitive hearing was getting to him more than usual.

“Hey, wake up.”

Wukong blinked awake, sitting up before his mouth watered at the sight of the takeaway bags. “Oh yes.”

Macaque rolled his eyes but passed over the three portions Wukong had asked for. “You know, if you keep eating that many portions then you're going to get fat.”

Wukong let out an offended gasp before shovelling some of the noodles into his open mouth. “No I'm not.”

“You are,” Macaque replied, teasingly poking him on the stomach. “See? Round.”

“It's cushioning. For when I may somehow end up on the floor,” Wukong explained.

“Because I beat you up,” Macaque snickered, opening up his own meal while Wukong began to dig into his second.

“Shuddup.”

“Make me,” Macaque challenged, tail lashing behind him.

Wukong's golden gaze flitted across him before he went back to his meal.

“That's what I thought.”

After they'd finished their meal, Macaque let out a sigh. “Alright then, put on your crappy game.”

“It's not crappy!” Wukong protested, already digging through the piles of DVDs in front of his TV. “Alright, found it. Get ready for the best game you'll ever play.”

“I highly doubt it,” Macaque mumbled, nearly dropping the headset and controller thrown haphazardly in his general direction.

“What was that?”

“I said ‘I highly doubt it’,” Macaque deadpanned. “This won't be anywhere near as good as my game.”

“You have a game?” Wukong laughed, plopping back down on the sofa beside him. “Okay, that I have to play after you're done with this.”

Macaque let out a grumble but adjusted the headset before putting it on, slouching against Wukong's side as the game registered him in.

An avatar looking surprisingly like him loaded in on a dirt path, a chicken running out of a bush in front of him before glitching and dying.

“Wow. What a surprise, I was right, this game sucks,” Macaque huffed.

The king's tail flicked up to curl around the warrior's arm. “Aww, c'mon Mac, give it a chance at least.”

Macaque sighed but began to walk his character along the path, stopped only a second later as another character spawned in front of him.

“Welcome traveller, on your journey to the west!” The Monkey King greeted.

The background image switched so the character was pointing at himself. “As the Great Sage equal to Heaven, you couldn't ask for a better tutor.” The screen switched back to the first picture of him. “On your journey, you will learn to smite powerful enemies.”

God this was boring.

“After you complete the tutorials, you will learn how to access your hidden potential.”

Ugh, good, back to the overworld.

Now if he could just-

“Defeat each opponent to work your way up to the final boss, the Rhino King,” Monkey King said.

“Couldn't afford the rights for Demon Bull King?” Macaque joked, elbowing Wukong in the side.

“Nah, just seemed boring seeing as I already beat him.”

“Here are seventy two combos-”

Skip.

“Pay attention-”

Skip.

“Make many friends along the way,” Monkey King advised and Macaque tore off his headset.

“What the fuck is that background art?!” The shadow screamed.

The king grinned. “Flattering, right? You would not believe how quickly the game sold out.”

“That's atrocious!” Macaque shouted, hitting him on the head before putting the headset back on.

Yeah, no, he was skipping through all of this.

Eventually it let him go and unlock abilities.

“Hey, these are all passive,” Macaque pointed out.

“Just give it a moment,” Wukong instructed.

The monk on the screen sighed before it flicked to a different ability menu.

Macaque's eyes roved over the screen before he took off the headset.

“Really?”

“What?”

“A fucking muscle bro version of yourself in just pants taking up half the screen?” Macaque growled because it was very obvious why he was pissed.

Wukong smirked. “What? I think it's a good view.”

“Self obsessed asshole,” Macaque grumbled, trying to just focus on buying a couple of different attacks before giving up and handing the game controller and headset over to Wukong. “No, I can't do this, this is just something for you to admire yourself.”

“Fiiiiine,” Wukong groaned. “But I want to play your game now.”

Macaque opened up a shadow portal, sticking his arm in and rooting around. “Seriously though Wukong, are you trying to seduce the player or something?”

Wukong grinned slyly at him. “Are you saying I'm hot?”

Macaque's face screwed up. “...No.”

“That's it, the Six-eared Macaque thinks I'm hot!” Wukong shouted before getting up and racing to the entrance of his house and cupping his hands around his mouth. “The Six-eared Macaque thinks that Sun-Wukong, Great Sage equal to Heaven, is hot!”

“Shut up,” Macaque said, withdrawing his hand and tossing the game case to Wukong as he walked back over.

“It looks like it was made by a five year old mortal,” Wukong giggled but put the disc in anyway.

When the king settled back down on the sofa, the warrior stretched out, laying his upper body across his friend's lap.

“And what do you think you're doing?” Wukong questioned before slipping the headset on.

“Making myself comfy.”

“Yeah yeah, I'm gonna beat this game in minutes.”

A moment passed as the game loaded.

“Why does everything look like a crappy anime?” Wukong inquired.

“Fuck you.”

~•~

“This is the fourth time I've done this encounter and I still haven't beaten it!” Wukong whined, throwing the controller across the room.

“Aww, too hard for you?” Macaque teased, not even cracking open an eye.

“Pfft, n-no!” Wukong floundered, taking off the headset and putting it on the floor. “I'm just going to take a break.”

“Sure you are,” Macaque snorted, opening his eyes a sliver.

Wukong stared, stock still, not sure if Macaque had realised that the glamour over his eye was down.

The scar over that side of his face was still hidden, but mismatching gold and milk coloured eyes fixed a tired gaze on him.

“Staring is rude,” Macaque murmured.

Wukong blinked, looking away. “Yeah, sorry.”

Macaque sat up, stretching with a yawn, hoodie riding up his sides slightly and exposing the yellow shirt he had on underneath.

It was surprisingly nice to see Macaque in bright colours.

Wukong reached out a hand to skim over the dark fur that stuck up on one side of his head, smiling softly when Macaque didn't flinch away.

“Hey, are your ears okay?” Wukong suddenly asked.

Macaque turned to face him, eyes back to their glamoured gold again. “Huh?”

“Well we were at a pretty busy place for most of today so I was wondering whether it was hard on your ears.”

Macaque seemed to blush. “Oh, no, they're all okay.”

The king's hand dropped to skim closer to where another two pairs of ears had to be hidden on the warrior. “Can I see them again?”

Macaque's eyes went wide and Wukong quickly withdrew his hand. “I'm sorry, you don't have to-”

The glamours dropped.

Wukong couldn't help but stare at the hues of colour on Macaque's ears, having nearly forgotten them over the centuries.

But there they were again, still with such resplendent glory.

Moonlight shone through the window, catching the back of Macaque's face with rays of light that made him shine.

“Rude to stare,” Macaque repeated, seeming to curl in on himself slightly.

“You're beautiful,” Wukong murmured, trying to ingrain this in his memory.

Maybe then he would have something to keep when they eventually fought again.

And just like that the glamours were back up, hiding Macaque's appearance behind a facade.

“I- I should go,” Macaque stammered, standing up and conjuring a portal in the floor.

“No, Mac, wait, I'm sorry-”

Too late.

His warrior was gone again, leaving him alone again.

Wukong sighed and dropped his head against the back of the sofa. “Idiot.”

[chaepu]

Don't Let Her Win - Kim Chaewon

pairing: kim chaewon x reader genre: fluff

"Can I get a gin and tonic?" You say to the bartender as you sit by the bar.

Another weekend at the club with your friends has finally taken a toll on you. The blaring sounds of the bass in your ears, your head is in your hands as you try to calm the headache brewing.

The drink is placed in front of you and you take a sip. You look around the club and see your friends dancing, having the time of their lives. You shake your head and wonder how they're able to do this for the fourth weekend in a row. So deep in your thoughts you don't even notice a woman standing next to you at the bar.

"Could I get a whiskey sour?" you hear the woman next to you say to the bartender.

You take another sip of your drink and the woman turns to you, "Do you come here often?"

You look over at her and chuckle, "Actually yes, every weekend this month so far."

"I knew you looked familiar," the bartender hands the woman her drink and she takes it, "you come here with your friends" and she points to your friends in the crowd.

"You're very observant" you note.

"I would recognize a pretty woman who ends up sitting by the bar by herself when she's usually dancing with her friends." she states.

"Headache," you say, "I think the constant partying is wearing me out finally."

The woman nods her head. "How come I've never seen you around?" you ask her.

"Maybe you're always drunk whenever you're here." she shrugs.

"That I am, I can't argue you with that." she laughs. "What's your name?"

"Chaewon." she says.

"Chaewon…" you hum, "Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl" Chaewon says.

"So what brings you here?" you ask, waving the bartender down to get another drink.

"Friends celebrating a birthday" Chaewon answers.

"Do they know you're here and not with them?"

"I'm sure they'll manage without me." she smiles and sips her drink.

You spend the next hour talking with the bobbed hair woman and your drunk friend runs up to you and puts her arms around your neck, pulling you close. "Y/n, I met this girl, should I take her home?" she screams in your ear, trying to be heard over the music.

"Are you physically able to take her home is the question, you look drunk as hell" you say to her.

"Well I am but that's not the point," your friend releases your grasp and notices Chaewon, "Oh who's your friend?"

"Nayeon, this is Chaewon. Chaewon, Nayeon." you say and Chaewon says hi.

"You're cute, is Y/n taking care of you?" Nayeon says and you face palm.

Chaewon chuckles, "she is."

Nayeon nods her head and speaks to the both of you now, "so should I take the girl home?"

"Does the girl want to be taken home Nayeon-ssi?" you jokingly ask.

"Of course, who wouldn't want to go home with this?" she says as she points to herself.

"Well if you can physically make it and she wants it, go ahead. Have fun and be safe" nayeon squeals and kisses your cheek before running towards the crowd.

"Do they always ask you before they fuck someone?" Chaewon laughs.

"I think she just needed someone to tell because she was going to do it no matter what I said." you reply back.

You notice Chaewon stiffen up while turning her body to face the bar instead of you.

"Are you okay?" you ask her.

Chaewon hesitates, "Um there girl at the end of the bar, that's my ex."

You slowly turn yourself to take a look at the girl. She's gorgeous.

Chaewon playfully slaps your arm to gain your attention, "Well don't stare too hard damn."

"Sorry," you reply "She's beautiful." you say.

"Yeah, I know." Chaewon looks up to see her ex laughing with the mystery girl while touching her arm. She sighs.

"When did you guys break up?" you curiously ask.

"Like two months ago. Dated for about 8."

"That's awhile." you state.

"Yeah." Even in the loud club, you can hear the silence between the two of you, the first in hour. Chaewon looks up to see her ex kissing the girl at the bar and sighs again. "I think I'm going to go." She says as she gets up from the bar stool. You grab her hand.

"Whether or not she knows you're here, don't let her win."

Chaewon looks at you with confusion. You don't speak, rather leaning in to capture your lips with hers. Chaewon immediately kisses back, moving her hands to wrap them around your neck. Your hands are on her hips as you pull her closer to you. You don't know how long you're kissing until you pull back. Looking at her dazed eyes, you give her another quick peck. She smiles. Chaewon's hands still circled around your neck, you turn your head to look back to see her ex not there, but the girl she was with still sitting at the bar.

"I guess you won." You say to Chaewon.

"Yeah, I think I did." You turn your head back to face Chaewon and she's not even looking at the direction of where her ex was, but instead at you. "So do you need to tell your friends too or can we just leave?" Chaewon smirks at you.

"I think we're good to go." you say as you get off from the bar stool and take one more sip of your drink before Chaewon is pulling you towards the exit.

maybe you won too.

--

a/n: second post! thanks for reading the first one! this is a newer imagine (not really reviewed, wrote it in like 30 minutes), but i hope you enjoy!

[kelcemenow]

Birthday Suit - Chapter 3.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1616

Warnings Lots of fluff and some strong language.

So, this was supposed to be the final chapter but I'm enjoying this request so much, there will be one more after this! “Request!!!!! Travis and the reader meet on a club in Vegas they immediately hit it off, as the night continues the enjoy the Vegas strip having fun and once they get to his room travis really shows the reader how much he adores her. Fluff / smut”

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

Your bare shoulders stung in the cool evening air as you bounded out of the casino, clutching at your stomach laughing.

""Woooh" Travis yelled, his fists raised high.

"But isn't the point of going to the casino to win money?" You giggled, "You lost!"

Travis shrugged his shoulders, "Who cares? We had fun, right?"

"You seem pretty relaxed for a guy who just lost $2000."

Travis raised his eyebrows, "Alright, alright, where next?"

Your hands ran along the top of your arms in an attempt to cover them from the cold. Travis noticed and immediately began removing his jacket.

"Here." He said as he draped it over your shoulder.

"Woah, hold up big guy. Is this not a bit too...emotional and romantic?"

His eyes sparkled with the city lights, "Maybe. Look, I know this whole thing was my idea but it's killing me. I think you're awesome, and what's crazy is, I don't even know anything about you."

You leaned slightly closer to him as you walked, "I know. I could be a murderer or something?"

"I'm prepared to take that risk."

You stomach fluttered and there was a comfortable silence, the only sound being your footsteps on the pavement and the sounds of the city.

Suddenly, Travis stopped and turned to you, "Okay. How about we play 20 questions?"

"Is that your idea of getting to know someone?"

"Is that your first question?"

You lowered your head and laughed under your breath.

Travis ghosted his hand over yours for a moment before gently intertwining his fingers with yours, "Come on, it'll be fun."

You looked up at him and exhaled, "Alright, let's do it."

Travis began walking, "Okay, what's your biggest fear?"

"Wow, we're getting straight in with the heavy stuff? Okay." Your skin tingled when you realised he was still holding your hand, "I'd say failure. I have a pretty serious job and I can't drop the ball, like, ever. It's a lot of pressure, but I suppose I thrive on that. I like those moments of all or nothing, you know, the difference between win or lose. But the feeling of the loss is not something I like to feel often. So, I put my all into my career, it comes first for me most of the time. I suppose that's why I never seem to have a stable relationship. No offence, but most guys can't handle it."

Travis smirked and looked down at his feet.

"What?"

He snickered slightly, "No, nothing. Your question."

"If you could have one super-power, what would it be?"

"Oh easy. Either teleportation or super speed."

You playfully nudged his arm, "I said one! You can't have two, that's just greedy!"

"Alright, okay." He paused as he thought for a moment, "I'd have super speed. It would come in really handy."

"Handy with what?" You looked up at him.

Travis held out a finger and waved it in front of your face, "Ah ah, it's my question now. Favourite vacation spot?"

You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips together in thought, "I don't get to go on vacation often, but I went to Bali after college, and it was so beautiful. I've always wanted to go back, as an adult, you know, and appreciate it properly."

Travis nodded, "Okay, yeah. I get it. Good answer." He tightened his grip slightly, "Next question?"

You took a deep breath of evening air, "Why were you so determined to get my on my own tonight when you had dozens of girls crowding around you?"

Travis smiled wide, "Because you were so intriguing. You weren't pawing at me because of who I am or what I do. You genuinely seemed interested, and I like that. You were just out there, having a good time, dancing with your friends and honestly, I can't deal with girls who are only after me because of the fame. I like real connections, you seem real to me. Straight-up, you know?" He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, his lips next to your ear, "And to top it off, you are so beautiful."

Your lips crept into a smile as you walked but you slowed down a little when his words repeated themselves in your head. Your eyebrows lowered in confusion, "Wait, what do you mean because of 'who you are'...what does fame have to do with it."

Travis pulled at your arm, "My question next. Favourite sex position."

Your mouth flew open with a laugh, "Wow, okay. We're going there? Alright, it sounds boring but I like the classics. Missionary is up there at the top for me. I like eye and body contact during sex." You stopped walking and turned to face him, "You know, the feeling of our bodies pressed together, my thighs wrapped around your waist, your mouth on my neck." As you spoke, you got closer to him, lowering your voice into a whisper, "Staring into each others eyes, deep and long kisses, dragging my nails down your back."

You stopped, only inches away from Travis' face as you watched his eyes glaze over and his lips quiver.

He cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times as he opened his mouth to speak, "Uh-"

You quickly turned and took a few steps away from him, "Or bent over with my ass in the air is pretty good too."

Travis' jaw dropped open, "Oh come on, girl. Don't tease me like that!" He jogged to catch up with you, hugging his arms around your waist from behind.

"My question now!" You said happily, "Okay, I gotta know. Who are you? You keep dropping hints about fame and the fact that you had people surrounding you in the club, I don't get it! Who are you?"

Travis chuckled, "So, my name is Travis Kelce." He paused for a reaction but continued when your face didn't change, "And I'm a Tight End for the Kansas City Chiefs."

You turned and stared at him, wide eyed, "I'm really sorry but you just said a lot of things that I don't understand."

He laughed again, "I play football, I'm a football player."

"Oh! Right, yeah. I get it now." You jumped a little as your voice raised, "Wow, okay. That's pretty big."

Travis rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah to be honest, people usually know who I am."

"Yeah, sorry about that! I'm not a big football watcher, I never have time!"

Travis swung his arm around your shoulder, "I like that. Really, it's kinda nice. It's...refreshing." His mouth moved into a smile. "When you said earlier about people expecting a lot from you, experiencing a lot of pressure and not liking to lose...I was laughing because that's exactly how I feel."

Your eyes creased into a smile, "So, you totally get it, then?"

He nodded, "What is it you do?"

You looked up at him, "Is that your next question?"

He narrowed his eyes a little, "Yes."

"I'm a lawyer."

Travis stepped back slightly, "Oh, shit."

"Let me guess, that's scared you off?"

He stroked his beard, pretending to be in deep thought, "This is some serious information. This means I'll never win an argument."

You laughed and grabbed his arms and pulled him back to his previous position, his head resting on your shoulder, "That's right! Okay, my turn. What do you look for in a woman?"

You felt his cheeks move into a smile against your own, "I find ambition very attractive. I love it when a woman knows what she wants, and works hard to get it. I don't know, there's just something so sexy about an independent woman with her shit together. But I don't want someone who takes themselves too seriously, you know? I'm a bit of a class clown so someone who I can laugh with is important."

You felt him tighten his grip and you almost felt yourself melt into his arms. Quickly, you spun in his arms so you were facing him.

"Eyes are a bit of a weak spot for me. If you got a good set of eyes on you, oh baby."

Giggling, you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

Travis bit down on his bottom lip and looked away from you, "Don't man, I'll be a mess."

You stopped walking and moved closer to him, your bodies almost touching, "It's your turn next. What's your next question?"

Travis took a slow breath in and his gaze flickered to your mouth, "I think I know enough."

"Enough for what?"

"For this."

Travis slowly moved in even closer, his eyes fixed on you. Your breath hitched as his lips connected with yours, an intense heat rising in your chest. Your eyes flickered shut and you tilted your head to the side, deepening the kiss. As your hands moved up his body, you teased his tongue with your own, dragging it along his bottom lip. His large hands took hold of your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze as you pushed your body against his. Travis groaned and the vibration on your mouth sent waves down your body. You swore you could feel something pressing against your hip and once you grazed against it, Travis' gentle moan confirmed for you. He quickly moved his kisses down to your neck, smiling against your skin when you threw your head back and gasped. Your hands found themselves at his head, dragging your nails along his buzzed hair. When he pulled away, his glazed eyes blinked in front of you.

"I think I have one more question." His voice was deep and gruff, "Will you come back to my hotel room with me?"

______________________________________________________________

I love flirty Travis! The next chapter will be the final one, where all the smut happens so if you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know!

Taglist @kkrenae @keiva1000

[sevenate-9]

Taking it back: a wolfstar oneshot (?)

“You still have these?” Sirius asks, holding up his Pokémon card deck with two fingers, like a cigarette, just like he had before either of them were old enough to smoke.

“I wasn’t about to throw them out,” Remus shrugs, shifting against his wall and wincing when he hears his Bowie poster crinkle. 

“What, you think they’ll be worth anything in ten years?” Sirius says, wiggling the card over to get the sun glinting in the silver part.

“I wouldn’t sell them if they were.” 

That gets him to turn with a quirked brow. After a beat, a slanted smirk grows. “You sentimental prick.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “Not everything’s about money.”

“Sure, but, c’mon.” Sirius waves the cards around before sliding them in his jacket pocket. “You’ve got me still, you don’t need the bloody shiny.” Remus pushes himself off the wall and is grappling Sirius’ arm in seconds. 

“That’s not funny, give them back.” Sirius, the prick, prickishly keeps his hands buried in his pockets and swerves any attempt Remus makes to get them out. 

“Why?” He smoothly sidesteps another dive with an infuriating amused smile. “They were mine, I’m just taking back my loan.” Remus straightens, three feet away from his friend. His room isn’t big, they’ve swam around three circles by now. 

“They were a gift, you can’t take back a gift.”

“Why not?”

“How would you feel if I took your stupid bloody radio?”

Sirius, even with his snow white complexion, blanches, smirk finally slipping off his face. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, you know I would.” He delivers it in a slow, low tone to get his point across.

Sirius shuffles the cards around in his pockets nervously, narrows his eyes. “You like Queen just as much as I do.”

“Not that loudly. And don’t forget who bought you that CD.”

Sirius’ throat audibly clicks in a swallow. “Fine, have them,” he says after a moment, putting the deck on Remus’ desk with a thud. “I don’t even get why you care so much, they’re just stupid merch for a show we barely watched.”

Remus walks over and sorts the cards into a pile. “Would you quit being obtuse? I keep them because you gave them to me.”

He doesn’t need to turn to know his friend is making a face. A stupid one. “I give you things   all the time.”

“It was different then. We were different people.”

Sirius cracks his neck. “We were shorter,” he says sardonically. 

“Yeah, well, I happen to think there’s some value in preserving memories as they happened.” He wraps the cards up with a near-crumbling elastic and puts it back in his cardboard box of childhood memorabilia. 

Sirius snorts. “Oh please, nostalgia is a lie our brains tell us because it’s always out to kill us. It’s our entire job to tell it to shut up.”

“What about our friendship makes you so eager to forget it?” Remus asks irritably, giving the box a good shove so it slides under his bed. 

“That’s not the point at all, the point is that the past is the past, good or not.”

“So do you not think the past informs the present at all? You’re just a completely new person every second.”

“Yes, actually, I do,” Sirius says, self satisfied.

“Great,” Remus says, before punching Sirius in the shoulder like he’s seen James do during Quidditch. 

“Ow!” His friend exclaims, reaching for the offended area. “The hell was that for?!”

“I don’t know, you should ask me from a second ago.” He bats his eyes innocently. “I’m a different person now.” 

Sirius punches his shoulder and Remus’ arm immediately cramps with his nerves’ protests. 

“Jesus!”

“Sorry, that was meant for you from a second ago,” he says, presumably going for impish but snarling the words.

“I was just proving a point, you did it way harder!”

“I did it just as hard as you!”

“You’re basically wearing armour with your stupid shoulder pads!” Sirius hugs his arms with raised shoulders. “I am not wearing shoulder pads, it’s just the model of all leather jackets!”

“Well, the stupid model of your stupid leather jacket has stupid shoulder pads!”

Sirius shoves him and he has to step back to catch himself, not expecting the attack. “You don’t get to call my jacket stupid when all you wear are ugly sweaters.”

Remus shoves him back, more effectively with the advantage of his height. “You’re being ridiculous!” The last word is winded because of Sirius tackling him onto his bed. They roll around grappling for the upper hand and sprinkle in petty curses. 

“You unfeeling bastard,” Remus gets in before Sirius rolls them over so he’s on top. 

“You went after my style, and you’re calling me the unfeeling one?” Sirius argues. 

“They’re ripped out of a Muggle magazine, they’re barely even your clothes ‘cause you sure as hell aren’t original,” Remus retorts.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause you can’t show your arms,” Sirius says, making both of them freeze. Their hands are clasped together but Sirius’ loosen their grip as he sits back, shocked at himself. “Remus…” he starts, but gets interrupted by Remus throwing him back, landing him on the ground with a thud and a groan. 

“Shit,” Remus says, eyes wide. He retreats into his body, still hopped up on adrenaline from the fight, his mind somewhere above him, looking at his arms frozen in front of him as a stranger’s (as a hairier iteration). He shakes himself and slides off the bed, crouching down next to his friend. “Shit,” he repeats, “Sirius, I’m so sorry, are you alright? Can you breathe?”

Sirius, worryingly, just groans again, gasping air as Remus helps him sit up and tries to teach him how to breathe again. After a minute or two, he gasps out “Fuck-” another gasp “-you.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I got so angry, or, I dunno, I couldn’t think-” he chokes out with the breath he’s been holding since Sirius hit the ground. Sirius puts a hand on his shoulder, the one he hit, and shakes his head, eyes dull from the exhaustive panic. 

“Don’t you start now.”

Remus can’t begin to think about laughing it off. “Are you in pain anywhere?” He checks the back of Sirius’ head and spine with medical touch he’s observed throughout his life but only ever handled on his own body. He finds no grievous injuries, at least not before Sirius swats him away. 

“Get off, you tit.” He holds his wrists together and meets his eyes meaningfully. “I’m fine. Some bruises but I’m fine. Nothing to write church about, alright?”

“Okay,” Remus says, finally feeling the edges of himself again, anchored by the warm hands holding him together. 

“I did deserve it, besides,” Sirius says, with a melancholic half smile that’s just as infuriating as all his smugness from before. Remus pushes his hands off and stands. 

“Like hell you do,” he says. Sirius blinks. “You don’t actually believe that crap, do you?”

“Remus,” he laughs -laughs- nervously. “C’mon, you’re allowed to be angry.”

“No, I’m not just going to sit here and.” He takes a shaky breath to collect himself and promptly sits down to level their height. “I am angry. At you, for what you said.” Sirius shifts his legs to sit criss-cross. Their knees brush before Sirius pulls him further in. “But I’m bloody furious at your mum and dad for making you think me shoving you on the floor was in any way right.” Sirius winces. 

“I’m alright, really,” he assures, but Remus shakes his head. 

“It never should’ve happened. I’m sorry about punching you, too. I never should’ve started all that, especially with my…” The remembered chill of hair growing at an impossible rate all down his back runs through his spine. The impact of Sirius’ fist against his shoulder -the other one this time- pulls him right out of it. 

“Ow!”

“Would you quit that?” Sirius demands with a look of near hurt. “People get angry, it’s got nothing to do with all that.” He leans back again. “And I’m sorry too, alright? About the cards and the… the thing I said.” Remus nods, rubbing his shoulder. Later, he knows he’ll ruminate on just how visible he is to Sirius, but right now the arm hurts more. The Quidditch has recently really bulked Sirius up, Jesus. 

“I get why you said it. It’s just that… sometimes you act like we met each other yesterday. Like we mean nothing to each other except for how entertaining we can be.”

When he looks up, Sirius is frowning. “When do I do that? I don’t think that.”

“Well, it’s just I’ve noticed-” Sirius stands.

“You’re wrong. We’ve been friends for ages, if you feel like you’re being fake that’s on you, not me.”

“I’m not the one being fake here,” Remus says affrontedly. 

“Oh yeah?” Sirius says.

“Yeah.” Remus pushes himself to his feet, wincing at the strain it puts on both of his injured shoulders.

“Then tell me how exactly I’ve been weirding you out so much.”

“I didn’t say that.” He frowns and takes a step towards his friend, but he steps back. The arguing is rapidly forming a pressure on his synapses, he’d never even meant to start anything and in his attempt to swerve them away from a cliff’s edge they were rapidly careening towards a roaring waterfall. “Oh my God, look, it’s things like that, alright? Flat out denial of things I can see are happening.” Sirius stares flatly. “Things we…” Remus scratches at the back of his ear, bothered. “Things we both remember,” he finishes softly, daring enough only for darting glances up at Sirius, still as the marble statue that served as their hiding place for many pranks throughout the years. He thinks they’d both quite prefer to be there right now, stifling their laughter, wedged in between cold stone slabs.

“What,” Sirius’ voice catches and he clears his throat. “What things. Remus.”

[cupidsblonde]

jj always knew he had a thing for milfs even if they where only a few years older than him.

inspiration: @princessbrunette

the moment jj had laid eyes on you he knew he had to have you. so he had brought it up to his friends one night at the chateau.

“you guys know who this is?” jj asks as he shows an instagram to the group off his phone “uhh jj” pope starts “what” “you know shes like 20 right?” jj’s jaw dropped, but then he perks up again “so whatttt its like a 2-3 year age gap who cares”everyone started laughing.

“bro” jj says slumping in his chair and says after he thought about it again. “jj ur 17 just wait a few months and you’ll be legal” John B says shrugging. Kiera smacks his arm “ow what the hell kie” “you shouldn’t be encouraging this” Pope sighs and lays down on the coach “can we figure out jj’s milf problems in the morning or something?” everyone looks at jj and he’s knocked the fuck out

In the morning, jj wakes up last. he wakes up to pope talking about who he’s dropping groceries off to this morning. jj’s ears perk up when he hears your name. “your dropping off groceries too her and didnt tell me?” “im so coming” popes face drops

“no your so not” John B, Kiera, and Sarah all look at each other and Sarah says “theres no stopping him now Pope, hes going” Sarah says and the three of them laugh

jj slaps popes shoulder and turns him around with his arm slung around his shoulder “thanks buddy” jj does a hop and a skip out the chateau and pope following him out the door

when they get to heywards jj spots something he would be able to spot anywhere, you and your 4 year old that looks just like you. jj keeps walking “jj.. jj what are you doing?!” pope whisper yells at jj but cant stop him as he’s already speaking to you.

“hello ma’am” jj says as he makes his way toward you as he picks up your bags for you. Heyward makes a face but leaves it as you swipe your card and take it back quickly and u pick up your child and catch up with thing VERY hot man who you knew to be as jj maybank.

“hey! jj right?” you ask jj stops in his tracks “you know who i am?” he asks “of course i know you silly! we went to the same school for like our whole lives until, well you know” gesturing down at the 4 year old on your hip. “oh yeah sucks you had to drop out, i wish though” he says

“wasnt really my plan but i wouldnt trade her for the world” you say, when you look up you see your small house just off the beach on the cut. “well this is my stop, thanks for bringing my groceries back i really appreciate it.” jj smiles, “you do know they offer to being the bags to you right?” “yeah i know, i got tripped off my someone that youd be there though” you say smiling.

you walk up onto your porch and notice how jj stops. “well? are you coming?” you ask turning around to smile at him and wave him on into your small house.

“guys!” jj yells coming into the chateau slamming the door open and shut excitedly. “i got a date!” pope laughs “you? with her? your joking right?” “yeah jj, does she know your going to turn 18 in two months and you arent 18?” kiera asks

“ill just have to wait then” jj says “you’ve got to tell her.” “ i will i will, the date is tomorrow night ill tell her then.”

your house wasn’t far from the chateau so, jj walked. on his way he made a stop fir some flowers. when he got there he took a deep breath outside of her door and knocked. on the inside he heard little feet tapping towards the door quickly he saw the knob turning but never all the way but at some point it does all the way and he spots a little girl, your little girl. she looks just like you.

when your girl opens the door jj takes one of the bigger flowers out of the bunch and gives her one. she takes it with her clammy hands and says “thank you!!” in her cute high pitched voice and runs off the show her mom.

you walk over to where they are and invite him inside and he gives you the flowers “they are beautiful thank you” you say walking to the kitchen to get a vase to put them in. “hey just so we dont go anywhere you dont want to, im not 18 just yet” he pauses to take a breath and u look at him nodding.

“im turning 18 in like 2 months and i just wanted you to know.” “thats okay, i just turned 20. its not legal just yet and we can wait.” “really?” jj asks “yeah of course” “well if we can, can we continue this date?”

at the end of the night, you guys just kissed goodnight as, he wasn’t legal yet. but when he did turn 18, you guys made it offical and did more than just kiss goodnight.

[runningfrom2am]

the sea around us; chapter sixteen

In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 4k (damn)

my masterlist

series masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Kie absolutely flips back at The Chateau when John B and I show up from Tannyhill with Sarah. Needless to say, she is not pleased that we want Sarah in on it.

"No effing way!" Kie says to us, shaking her head, as everyone sits around just watching. "Seriously? So she's just in on this now?"

"I dunno, but all I care about is her cut comes out of your share." Pope shrugs, looking at John B and I.

"I don't remember taking a vote," Kie complains, crossing her arms. "This is our thing. A pogue thing."

"I gotta say, I'm just a tad uncomfortable with this," Pope speaks up and I sigh.

"Pope, when are you not uncomfortable?"

"I don't know, I rode here on the back of JJ's bike pretty comfortably." He replies and JJ nods.

"Yeah, I've honestly never seen him so relaxed."

"JJ you are not helping," I say and he immediately shuts up.

"That's cute you guys." John B says sarcastically.

"We were all extremely comfortable until you brought her!" Kie says, pointing to Sarah. "And we were all comfortable in doing our own thing until you started fucking her brother!" She says, turning to me and I throw my arms up, pacing the patio. "And suddenly, to both of you, pogue life doesn't matter anymore as soon as you get laid by some kooks!" I shoot her a look, running my hand through my hair.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Sarah says, drawing Kie's attention.

"Then leave," Kie says bitterly.

Sarah scoffs, looking over to John B. "See? I told you." She says, arms crossed,

"Tell them what exactly, Sarah? That you're a liar?"

"No, that you're a shit-talking bitch!" Sarah shouts back at her, sitting up now. I watch JJ and Pope as they immediately begin to place bets on who will win- JJ already has his wallet out.

"Everybody shut up!" John B shouts, grabbing everyone's attention.

"I'm fucking leaving," I grumble, grabbing my tote bag from the floor next to the couch. "Call me when you're done being pissed that I've found a guy who likes me more than you," I say to Kie before storming out, holding up my middle finger behind me without looking back.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

I ended up going back to Tannyhill to spend the night, since now, without a home and the Chateau, it was my only option. I'm feeling thankful for Ward already. I ring the doorbell, and Wheezie answers a few moments later.

"Oh, hi Snowy." She says, pulling it open more so I can come in. "Rafe! Your girlfriend is here!" She shouts up the stairs.

"Hi, Wheezie." I smile, taking my shoes off and placing them beside the door. That is something I never let go of when I moved from BC, I hate that everyone here wears their shoes inside. Except when I'm at John B's, lord knows when the last time he or even Big John did a good mop, so that's my only exception.

"You know, you live here now so you don't have to ring the doorbell. Unless it's like 2 am the door is always unlocked." Wheezie tells me, crossing her arms and laughing a little at me both for removing my shoes and for not just walking in.

"Oh, okay. Good to know." I nod, smiling at her.

"Why did you take your shoes off?" She asks.

"Uh, well, in Canada no one wears shoes in the house. Especially other people's houses." I laugh slightly as Rafe comes down the stairs.

"Wheeze, leave her alone." He says, stopping before the last set and leaning on the railing.

"I just answered the door, I'm not bothering her." The young girl insists.

"No, definitely not bothering me," I assure him, smiling at his sister.

"Come on," Rafe says, signaling for me to follow him. I wave goodbye to Wheezie and thank her for opening the door, then I go up after Rafe.

"Okay, so, your room is just over here..." He says, pointing as we walk down the hall, and opening the door to the same guest bedroom I showered in last week. "Wheezies room is right down there, and my room is upstairs, as you know." He explains as we walk in, and I look around.

"Thank you." I smile at him.

"Yeah, uh, no problem." He says, and we both sit on the bed, me crossing my legs. "So, you live here now?" He laughs.

"Well, probably not full-time. John B is keeping the chateau so I'll likely still be there a lot." I shrug.

"Right, well, my dad said you were nervous since I didn't know he was going to offer, but I want you to know that I don't mind. Seriously." Rafe smiles at me, as I hear someone walking towards the open door. I look up and see that it's Ward.

"Rafe, we went over this, buddy." He laughs and Rafe gets up, raising his hands in mock surrender and walking back to the door.

"I gave this same talk to John B and Sarah, so don't feel weird, but there's going to be some rules." He says and I nod. "No going in each other's rooms, and no closed doors in other rooms, got it?" He asks, and Rafe and I make eye contact for a second. He smirks a little and looks me up and down.

"Dad, oh my god." Rafe groans, moving quickly on from our silent interaction so his dad doesn't pick up on it. "I'm an adult." He says and Ward turns to him.

"Yes, and she is seventeen, so you get the same rules as Sarah," Ward says, looking at his son seriously.

"Of course, that's fine," I say with a smile before Rafe starts arguing with him. "Thank you for letting me stay here," I tell him again.

"Rafe, if you could give me a minute with our guest," Ward says, turning to his son and giving him a look.

Rafe nods and walks away, heading up to his room, if I had to guess. Ward comes and sits down next to me.

"So, how is John B doing?" He asks, and I assume I look confused because he explains. "With his dad, and all that. I know it has to be hard on him."

"Well, he's doing alright. We all try our best to be there for him, but he won't accept that his dad likely will not be coming back alive, so it's a bit of a touchy subject." I tell him honestly, avoiding eye contact.

"Big John was a great man, wasn't he?"  He asks and I nod. Big John was like a father to me. Of course, my dad is still alive and well, but there's just something so great about talking to someone else's dad about stuff you can't tell your own parents about. I feel like I could start crying so I know it's better for me not to speak.

"Is it true he was looking for the Royal Merchant when he disappeared?" Ward asks me.

"Well, I think so, yeah," I say quietly.

"Do you know if John B has expressed any interest in that? Finishing his father's work?" Why would Ward ask me about this? I decide it's best to ignore the question, and really lean into the whole 'death of a parental figure' thing. I let the tears flow as he's partway through his question, letting my shoulders start to shake and I cover my face.

"I'm so sorry, I just... Big John was a father to me too and I just haven't talked to anyone about it. No one ever asked how I was doing, you know?" I sob, lifting my hands to wipe under my eyes.

I catch a glimpse of him between my fingers while I wipe my eyes, and he looks more frustrated that I didn't answer than worried that I was so upset. He definitely knows something.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

I haven't left my room since Ward came and talked to me. I need to talk to John B, but he stayed back at the chat with everyone else after I left. I don't even know if I want to talk to him. I've been staring at the ceiling for about forty-five minutes before I drift off to sleep, thinking endlessly about what Kie said to me in the afternoon.

When I wake up, my mouth is dry and I'm instantly uncomfortable because I'm still wearing jeans. It's pitch black outside- and I lift my phone from where it's fallen out of my hand at my side. 2:50 am. I've got to get a drink.

I look in the bathroom for a cup to grab some water, but there's nothing. I sigh and resign myself to having to walk down to the kitchen to grab a water bottle after quickly getting changed into some pyjamas.

I quietly sneak downstairs, but freeze on the steps when I see the lights on. I tiptoe down onto the landing, and walk over to the entrance, peaking into the doorway. No one there. I sigh a breath of relief and grab a water bottle from the fridge, before retreating back up the stairs, following the flashlight on my phone as it's pointed at the floor.

"Snow?" I look up when I hear my name.

"Oh, Rafe. Hi." I whisper back.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, stepping down the last couple steps onto this level and walking up to me.

"I was just thirsty so I just grabbed some water." I shake the bottle towards him. "What about you?"

"Oh uh... I just couldn't sleep, I guess." He replies, shrugging softly.

"Wanna go in the pool?" He asks, making me laugh.

"It's three am."

"C'mon, let's go. It's a private pool- it's not like it closes at five or anything." Rafe insists, a slight smile tugging on his lips.

I look towards my door and think for a second. It's not like I'm going to sleep any time soon, I just woke up. "Okay, yeah. Let me get changed quick." I nod, walking past him and into my room, and I'm surprised when he follows.

I grab a swimsuit from my bag that I haven't unpacked yet, and head into the bathroom to change, while Rafe sits down on my bed.

I come out and I quietly follow him downstairs and out onto the deck, and watch as he flicks on the lights in the pool and the ones that surround it. I take off my pyjamas which I threw back on top of my bathing suit, folding up my clothes and resting them on a chair with my phone.

We haven't said a word to each other, and I'm starting to feel a little nervous. I know I shouldn't, though. It's just too quiet out here.

"It's so quiet." I whisper to fill the silence as Rafe walks over and pulls off his sweats, tossing them on the chair next to my clothes. I guess he planned on going for a late night swim, since he's wearing trunks underneath.

"It's nice isn't it?" He replies, smiling at me as he walks over to the edge of the pool, stepping in.

"Yeah." I agree, following him over. "Is it cold?" I ask and he shakes his head.

I dip my foot in anyways just to check. "You and I have different definitions of cold." I giggle, pulling my foot back out.

"Okay come on, you'll get used to it." He smiles up at me, standing about waist deep now as he holds his hand out to me by the stairs.

"Okay, okay." I give myself a small pep talk as I take his hand, putting one foot in. Just then, he tugs slightly on my arm as if he's going to pull me in. "Oh my god!" I laugh, looking back at the house and making sure no one heard.

"I'm sorry," Rafe laughs, "I had to- I'm sorry. I promise I won't."

I give him a look of 'don't you dare' as I slowly take another step deeper, and another, until I'm up to my ribs.

"Oh my god this is the worst part." I laugh, holding my arms still above the water. I jump a little bit to try and warm myself up, and he's right, I'm adjusting quickly.

"It's not that bad." He smiles, shaking his head at me, still not letting go of my hand as I hold it above the surface.

"Okay, okay yeah. I'm good." I say, dropping his hand to let my arms fall into the water. It's still cold, so I pull my arms closer and cross them over my waist.

"Is green your favorite color?" Rafe asks me out of nowhere.

"Uh, I guess so." I shrug. "I mean, I really like brown too. Maybe a close second though, green is more fun."

"Gotcha. Yeah, I just figured 'cause like, you wear a lot of green stuff so..." He explains and I nod.

"As long as I don't wear a very specific shade of a bright forest green, I won't look like a leprechaun." I giggle and he looks confused, but laughs anyways.

"What?"

"Yeah, like, with my hair, and the freckles, it's kind of a fine line."

"Oh, I mean I guess so." He agrees. "Not that you do, uh, look like a leprechaun. I can just see how that could be, like, uhm... yeah." He sounds nervous now.

"What's your favorite color?" I ask, wanting to get the conversation off of me.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe like... blue, I guess?" He answers, sounding unsure.

"Do you not have a favorite color?"

"Not really, no." He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans back against the edge of the pool.

"Okay, well what's your favorite color to look at? Like, what color itches your brain the most- is the most satisfying to you?"

"Maybe like... orange. Yeah, that's a nice color to look at." He nods, looking satisfied with that answer.

I smile. "Yeah, that's a good one. Like a nice sunset moment."

"Yeah, totally." Rafe nods, not pulling his eyes from me.

"Okay. Here's a good one." I start, leaning over the edge of the pool next to him and crossing my arms on the ground to support myself. "What is your favorite Fast movie?"

"Five. Definitely Five." He answers, without giving it a second thought.

I nod in approval. "Good choice." I grin, looking up at him. "That's my favorite too."

"Objectively like, it's the best one. I would say Seven but like, way too damn sad." Rafe shakes his head at that.

"Right? I literally always cry at the end."

"Okay so I have never cried watching a movie, but that movie almost did it for me." He laughs.

"You have to watch About Time. You will sob." I laugh.

"Never heard of it."

"Well, it's one of the best movies of all time. Up there with Frozen two. And Fast, obviously. And the Godzilla movies. The new ones, I mean." I ramble on.

"Do not tell me you like the Godzilla movies." Rafe laughs, looking at me in disbelief.

"I get a lot of flack for this, but they're my comfort movies." I nod.

"I've never met anyone who has liked those," Rafe shakes his head. "I mean, I don't hate them but they're a weird comfort movie to have."

I nod. "Yeah, like I get it- it is an odd choice. They're just fun." I say, turning to lean my back against the wall now to look out and see if I can see the ocean from here, and I can. The moonlight bounces off the waves beautifully and this is the perfect view through the clearing in the trees.

Rafe places his arm over my shoulders and leans into me, rubbing my arm in the process.

"God- you are cold. You've got goosebumps." He chuckles and I nod.

"I wasn't kidding. I am warming up now though, you were right."

"I'm always right." He says, a cocky tone to his voice.

I roll my eyes a little with a smile on my face and shake my head. "Big brother behaviour."

"Well, yeah, how else am I supposed to behave?" He chuckles, and I can feel his gaze on me.

"Fair enough- you don't know any better." I laugh, turning to look up at him.

And I thought JJ's eyes were blue- now I don't even remember what they look like. Maybe it's something to do with the pool lights having a blue tint- or the moonlight reflecting off the ocean in front of us, but Rafe's eyes look somehow bluer now than they ever have before.

"Thanks for like... being okay with me staying here." I say after he's quiet for a moment.

"I told you, I want you here." He replies, reaching up with his free hand and pushing some of my hair back that's fallen out of my bun.

"Can I... uh..." He says softly, leaning in towards me a little bit. I nod with a smile as he lets his hand rest on my cheek and pulls me closer, holding that same bit of hair back as he kisses me softly. It's sweet- not like the last two times. Not that the first two times were bad- but this is so different.

Last time, he did it to piss off my friends. Fully warranted. The first time, we were both so drunk we couldn't stand up straight. This is more real. A million times more real.

He pulls away and I feel my cheeks burning- the cold from the water and the breeze completely gone now.

"Orange like your hair." He says, and I furrow my brow a bit.

"Huh?"

"My favorite color."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

The following afternoon, I agree to go out with John B, JJ, and Sarah to talk about what the plan is. What's happening with Kie, and maybe bring up what happened with Ward yesterday if I get a second alone with John B. I trust Sarah, but I'd need to talk to him first to see if he knows what's going on.

We're out in the marsh when John B asks us to grab something from the hold. We walk over, and right as I feel a presence behind me JJ is grabbing me and dropping me in. I scream, laughing as John B does the same thing to Sarah. It's not funny anymore, though, when they close the door and lock it behind us. "John B? JJ! Hey!" I yell, slamming on the door with Sarah.

"This isn't funny!" Sarah adds as we try to push it open. Shit, there goes us getting to talk.

"Sorry girls, I'll let you out later! I swear!" We hear him shout back.

"What are they doing?" I ask Sarah and she shakes her head.

"Not a clue." She says as we both just resolve to sit down. We'll probably be waiting a while. "They wouldn't actually just leave us, right? He's coming back to open it?"

"Of course, he'll come back." I nod. "John B wouldn't hurt a hair on your head- let alone leave you to starve in a hold. Me, on the other hand? Maybe." I joke, laughing slightly.

"No way," Sarah says, laughing and shaking her head. "You should hear the way he talks about you."

I roll my eyes at that, scoffing. "I'm serious! He loves you, when you're not around he refers to you as his sister." Sarah says as we both hug our knees to our chests.

"Well, that's sweet." I agree.

"And JJ is so obviously in love with you it is ridiculous." She whispers, laughing a little.

"He's like that with every girl who can breathe." I reply, "Trust me, it's not personal." I laugh a little bit. "Can I tell you a secret?" I whisper and I see her nod.

"I was absolutely obsessed with JJ. Since the day I met him. I told Kie I was in love with him. It is honestly so embarrassing..." I giggle, trailing off.

"What happened?" Sarah asks me. "I didn't know you had, like, history."

"Honestly? Pretty much nothing. We hooked up one time, allegedly he doesn't remember it happening, and I decided to try and avoid going through that again."

"Oh.." Sarah says, not sure what to say. "He's a liar." She chuckles. "There's no way he doesn't remember. Boys always remember- it doesn't matter how shitfaced they are, seriously."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I explain. "That he knew and was too embarrassed to admit it because it was weird."

Sarah sighs. "Yeah... I mean if he didn't want to be a big boy and talk about it, that's his loss."

"Thanks, Sarah." I smile. "But now, I think I'm starting to get over it. I'm happier."

"With Rafe?" She asks.

"Well, it's complicated, unfortunately. It wouldn't be my love life it made sense, would it?" We both giggle at this.

"Then what's up with you guys? We all know you're like, together."

"Nothing official, I guess. And we haven't like, done anything, if you were taking Kie's word at face value yesterday." I explain and she nods softly.

"My brother shut me out a few years ago, so I don't know a lot, but I can tell he's like, doing better, I guess. He's slightly less angry at the world, at us, whatever. You're getting in his head, is what I mean. In a good way." Sarah says and I smile a little. That does make me more relaxed about the situation. At least he wasn't just manipulating me when he told me he needed me, and that I'm helping him.

"It just... I don't get why she would say that to me. In front of everyone, too. It's not even true, she was straight-up lying; and for what? Like, it didn't do anything but hurt me. She knows I care about my friends. I literally always build my plans around her and the boys. Like, 'Oh, you want to go surfing in the afternoon? Sweet, I'll take a morning shift' or 'You guys need me for Royal Merchant stuff at noon? All good, I'll tell Rafe I need to be back by then'. I have never once told them no- I have never once put him first." I rant on for a minute and Sarah just lets me. "I mean, after Midsummers, when John B got pushed from the tower, I had told Rafe I would stay with him because he needed me. He needed me, I'm so serious Sarah he was having a really rough night. But I was there for her and for John B in a minute, so how dare she accuse me of not caring."

"Well, you know how I feel about Kie," Sarah says, "But putting myself in her shoes, you guys are family. Especially for you, and John B, and JJ, you guys are pretty much all you have. And I think she cares about you, and I think she just doesn't want to lose that."

"Yes, but I don't know because I've always been second to Kie. She was their friend first, she is rich, and smart, and so pretty, and I love her but it is hard to not look at this and think she's trying to take Rafe from me." Sarah laughs and shakes her head. "Not literally, of course- she hates him, I just mean it feels like she can't let me have one thing of my own. That's mine, and that I can be proud of, because our lives revolve so heavily around each other."

"That's the reason I ghosted her." Sarah nods. "I assume you only heard her side of the story, yeah?" She asks.

"Of course- please, go on." I laugh.

"I had my birthday party and didn't invite her. So she called the cops and got the party busted." Sarah said, stretching out her legs as much as she could in this tiny space. "She ruined my birthday because she wasn't there. I couldn't have a nice thing without her." She shakes her head.

"Sounds about right, apparently," I say, but I do know how hurt Kie was after that happened. She was heartbroken, and I was there for her.

Just then, we hear some commotion up on the deck and begin pounding on the door again as we hear splashing in the water. The door opens, and it's Kie. "Oh, great," Kie says sarcastically, stepping back as we climb out. We look off the edge, and JJ and John B are swimming away to Pope's boat.

Great indeed.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

this part is so cute i literally cant- it might be my fave chapter omg

taglist: @boo22sstuff @madelynie (message me if you want to be added!!)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Picture Imperfect pt 2

Prompts: hey this is a stupid ask but could u maybe make a fic about roman and virgil bonding and growing closer post pof and fwsa and all? could be platonic, pining and then romantic, whatever ud like. ik its not the best prompt but ive got them on the brain, ive re-listened to the reputation album and ur writing is just so good and if not, take care of urself! - anon

I absolutely love your Sanders Sides stories, I can always 'hear' the character's voices - if you get what I mean. If you ever feel motivated or are looking for suggestions, I'd love to see something more from "Picture Imperfect" - I know Roman implies that Imagination versions of the other Sides have escaped before, and I'd really love to see him/the other Sides dealing with something like that! Either way, thank you for all your hard work! <3 - anon

hey could u write a fic about like, ro and vee out on an outing (maybe a first or second date if it’s romantic) and it starts raining so ro expects virgil to get scared and go back inside, but he just starts laughing and dancing and having fun or whatever? and then suddenly they’re both having a blast in the rain (bonus points for the cheesiest fucking rain kiss ever-). no pressure btw, and i love ur work <3 especially how u portray prinxiety! - anon

Uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous babe I don’t know how to put this req here but it’s here I promise

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none

Pairings: prinxiety

Word Count: 3521

  Virgil approaches him after everything is over and just pokes his arm. 

“Uh, hey, Princey?”

“Yes?”

“Can you—can you tell me how many times you’ve done that?”

Roman frowns. “Done what?”

“Well, the whole…’other versions of us,’ thing.”

Shame curdles anew in his chest and he takes a deep breath, swallowing it as best he can. “W-well, I can’t specify exactly how many times I ran that specific scenario, but…er, it’s a tad more complicated than that, actually.”

“I got time.”

“U-um, can we—can we do this somewhere more private?”

“You wanna go to your room?”

“Yeah—yes, actually, that would be a good idea. There’s something in there that will help.”

Virgil frowns but doesn’t press until they’ve moved up and out of the living room. Roman glances at the door and lets out a sigh when he sees it’s closed. Good. Little chance of anyone interrupting them from either side now. 

“Roman?”

He shakes himself. “Right. Sorry. So, um…can I ask why you’re asking, first of all? I-it’s not that I particularly mind answering, per se, it’s just that I…um…”

“You’ll be able to tailor your answer to my question if you understand the specifics of it?” He shrugs when Roman looks at him, surprised. “What? You and L really aren’t that different from each other, you know.”

“I know…”

Logan had said as much, taking him aside much like this and having the softest conversation about the importance of understanding why they’re each doing their own role when it comes to Roman’s ideas and the videos and everything, including saying something about how if he’s managed to stop Roman from wanting to create, he’s failed as a critiquer because he’s extinguished Roman’s creative drive. 

Roman may or may not have cried into his shoulder after that. 

“But really—running things over and over in your head just to show how much they could suck? Kinda my thing, Princey.”

“That’s what—oh, Virgil, I’m so sorry.”

“Eh.” He waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it. That’s my gig, I know how to do it in a way that’s healthy—okay maybe not entirely healthy,” he concedes when Roman gives him a look, “but it’s my thing. Maybe I’m wondering why you thought it had to be yours too.”

“I didn’t mean to steal your thunder, Virgil, I really didn’t—“

“Roman,” Virgil says, reaching out and taking his shoulders to make him look, “I’m not mad at you. I’m not gonna get mad at you. I’m worried, okay?”

Roman takes a deep breath. “Right. Sorry.”

“’S okay. Just take your time.”

In and out. We can do this.

“The Imagination is…temperamental,” he begins, “especially when it comes to all of us. Mostly because we’re a more…concrete part of Thomas’s Imagination seeing as we…sort of become real but not exactly?”

“Okay, I’m with you so far.”

“But because the Imagination likes to go in the direction of what could be, it…sometimes spits out other versions of us.”

Virgil blinks. “What, like clones?”

“Sort of? It’s more—it’s more like it makes alternate versions of us that lean slightly more into different—oh, goodness—character interpretations.” 

Virgil narrows his eyes. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, there, Princey.”

Roman scrubs a hand over his face. “One time there was a Patton who got out of the Imagination that was obsessed with basking specifically chocolate chip cookies.”

“How is that different from our Patton?”

“This one managed to use literally all of the flour and sugar we had before I was able to stop him.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s—that’s different. So they’re all just, like, slightly off?”

“It’s more like if someone took the sliders for their personalities from their video game characters and messed around with them?” Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I’m not doing a very good job of explaining this.”

“No, no, I got it. That’s a good analogy.” Virgil glances at the door to the Imagination. “So—wait, is that where they come from?”

“They can come from any of the doors, they just mostly come through this one since it’s my side and not Remus’s and…um…”

Virgil raises an eye when Roman’s cheeks start to flush. 

“God, this is embarrassing.”

“I’m not here to make fun of you,” he reminds, “I’m just worried.”

“You have to promise you won’t tease me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Wait, really, just like that?”

“I’m only an asshole to you when it’s funny, Roman.”

“Your definition of ‘funny’ needs some work.”

“You need to stop dodging the question.”

“Fine, fine, okay, it’s just…” Roman takes a deep breath. This is mortifying. “…sometimes I would summon them, okay?”

“You’d summon other versions of us? What for?”

“To…to…” He twists his hands together. “To…comfort me.”

Silence. Yep, this was a mistake. This was the worst decision he could have made here and he wishes this were a not-real version of Virgil so he could just yell cut and have this experience not be actually happening. 

“…brace yourself, Princey, you’re getting a hug.”

“Wha—ah!”

Roman barely has time to finish asking the question before Virgil’s arms are wound tightly around him, his face buried in the crook of his neck as he tries to shove Roman into his chest. Roman just wraps his arms around him too, carefully twisting his fingers into the fabric of Virgil’s hoodie. 

“…um…”

“Nope.” Virgil tightens his grip as Roman makes to pull back. “You get hugs now. No buts about it.”

“Do I get to ask why?”

“Aside from the fact that you’ve just told me you didn’t feel like you could ask us for comfort so you had to summon other versions of us?”

Roman wisely keeps his mouth shut and just rests his chin on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil makes a noise that sounds vaguely like that’s what I thought. 

“…sorry?”

“Ah, shit, Princey, no,” Virgil mumbles, pulling back and looking Roman in the face, “I’m not—I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m—okay, I’m a little mad at myself and everyone else, but mostly I’m just sad, okay?”

“Since when have you been so transparent about what you’re feeling?”

As soon as he says it, he bites his lip so hard he almost draws blood. 

“Shit, Roman, don’t do that.” Virgil taps his chin. “Leggo, come on. I’m just—you’re gonna make yourself bleed, let go—there, that’s better. I’m trying to be better about it, okay, that’s it.”

Roman just nods. Is…is he sure this isn’t some other version of Virgil? There’s the big door to the Imagination in the hallway, after all, maybe…

“It is really me, by the way, I can hear you thinking about it over there.”

“Wait, you can what?”

“Not literally, Princey,” Virgil says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “but thanks for telling me I’m right.”

Roman makes a face and goes to pull away when Virgil just chuckles and holds him tighter. 

“Okay, that was mean.”

“Yes, yes, it was.”

“Look, just—you can come to us, okay? You don’t have to make versions of us that you think will comfort you ‘cause we won’t.”

“You—you mean that?”

“You see J around anywhere?”

Roman glances around. Sure enough, there’s no Janus. “Alright. I’ll—I’ll try.”

Virgil smiles at him—not a smirk, not that weird half-smile thing he does when he’s trying not to laugh, but a real smile—and claps him on the shoulder. “That’s all we can ask for, Princey. And uh, let me know if you need help catching any rogue versions of us, okay?”

Roman just nods dumbly as Virgil waves and walks out of his room. 

He glances at the door to the Imagination, still firmly shut.

Huh. 

———

“Hey, Virgil?”

Virgil takes out a headphone. “What’s up, Princey?”

“Have you seen Remus anywhere?”

“He said he was spending the day with the Kraken brood.” Virgil frowns. “Why, something wrong?”

“Well, he told me he was doing that too and there’s currently a Remus on top of the fridge doing his best to replace the water in the ice maker with slime.”

“What the—oh. Oh, is this one of the—okay. Yeah, what d’you need?”

“I think he’s only going to respond to your tempest tongue and I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.”

Virgil tucks his phone into his pocket and sets his headphones on the bed as he follows Roman down to the kitchen. Sure enough, there’s a Remus perched on top of the fridge, cackling wildly with his hands full of what looks like a blended version of Slimer from Ghostbusters. 

“Remus,” Virgil calls, many-layered voice getting the little gremlin’s attention, “get down from there.”

Remus pouts somehow while still cackling and lobs a handful of goo at them. Roman quickly summons an umbrella and blocks it. 

“Remus,” Virgil warns, “don’t make me come up there.”

Remus just cackles louder.

“Alright, you asked for it.”

He closes his eyes and concentrates for a few seconds, growing two feet taller and reaching up to scoop Remus up like a feral raccoon. He screeches, goo still saying everywhere, as Roman quickly grabs Virgil’s shoulder and sinks them out to his room. Virgil blinks, adjusting to the quick change, and Roman waves at him frantically by the open door. 

“Chuck him in!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!”

One gooey, cackling Remus later, Roman slams the door shut and lets out a sigh, reaching out to poof away the remaining slime. 

“Oh, that’s sick. Can you clean everything like that?”

“No, just the Imagination messes. Thanks for your help.”

“Eh, no problem. Used to have to do that when we were younger anyway.”

“…ah. I see.”

Virgil looks at him oddly when Roman suddenly appears to deflate, only to realize that Roman didn’t get to grow up with Remus. “Oh, hey, I didn’t mean—“

“No, no, it’s quite alright. We’re…well, I suppose we’re making up for lost time now. I certainly wouldn’t’ve known to just…” He makes a picking-up gesture with his arms. “How long have you been able to grow like that?”

“I think it’s a fight-or-flight thing.”

“Got it.”

There are a few moments of awkward silence. 

“Well, I should let you get back to…what were you doing?”

“Oh, I was watching this show on Netflix. It’s called My Name.”

“Wait, is that the one about the girl whose father gets killed in the first episode and then she goes on this whole journey to try and find who was responsible?”

“Yeah, ‘ve you heard of it?”

“I was going to try and watch it! What episode are you on?”

“Uh…episode two. I’m not that far into it yet. But there’s only, like, six episodes or something.”

“Would you—would you want to watch it with me? Not like together, together, but—like a book club sort of thing?”

Virgil is not going to helplessly smile at how cute Roman is when he’s all eager, he’s not. “Sure. That’d be fun.”

He is going to smile when Roman grins so wide it looks like his face must hurt. 

———

“Therapy isn’t enough,” Virgil announces as he strides into Roman’s room, “I need to be weird about that old man.”

Roman chuckles and looks up from where he is at his desk, typing away at his computer. “So you watched the next episode, huh?”

“Look, I don’t know why he insists on making everything as dramatic as possible, but he does and it works for him.”

“So this is about that scene where he just rips his shirt halfway open for no reason, huh?”

“For no reason? Excuse me?” Virgil flops on Roman’s bed. “It is his gay-given right to be that dramatic and it’s working for him.”

“Seems like it’s working for you too.”

“Don’t act like you’re above it, you spent twenty minutes waxing poetic about how the framing around him sitting in his office chair was poetic cinema.”

“Yes, because I’m a storyteller and I can appreciate the use of framing in film and television to contribute to said story.”

“Uh-huh. How’s the writing going over there?”

“Don’t talk to me or my Untitled Document (1) ever again.”

Virgil laughs, head lolling back against the pillows as Roman shakes his head in mock sternness. “He’s so gone for him.”

“Who is? The assistant for him or him for the dead guy?”

“Yes.”

“You’re correct and you should say it.” He squints at the screen. “Wait, what’s a gender-neutral term for parent?”

A pause, then the rustle of fabric. “I want you to repeat what you just said to yourself.”

Roman does. “I might be stupid.”

“‘Might be,’ he says.”

“Shut up.”

“What’s the word I’m looking for that is like the exact word I’m looking for?”

“Leave me alone.”

Another laugh from behind him as he continues trying to type. But the thought of actually having Virgil here to talk about something they’re both watching is a lot more tempting than working on this idea that isn’t even due for a few more weeks anyway. He chews on his lip for a second before saving his work and closing it down. He did have more than half of it completed, thank you very much. 

He turns around, seeing Virgil sprawled over his bed like it’s his own, scrolling on his phone, and just takes a moment to look. 

Virgil looks…happy. It’s a good look on him. 

“When you’re done staring at me, I got a post to show you.”

“What is it?”

“Slow-motion GIFs of that moment.”

“Move over, then.”

———

By this point, when Roman asks him for help with wrangling an escaped version of one of them, they can do it while having a conversation. 

“I followed one of the main blogs in the fandom yesterday,” Virgil says as he grabs two of a Janus’s arms. “They followed me back.”

“Oh, really?” Roman grabs two more and starts hauling him toward the Imagination, deftly knocking aside a swinging cane. “You got to mutual status that quickly?”

“They said they liked my meta posts. Gave you credit, of course—“

“As you should.”

“—but yeah, they seem cool. It’s weird, I know it’s not like actually having a celebrity you can interact with, but it’s like—“

“It’s like being relatively famous just by having them know you. Do you think they’re laughing at your silly little jokes every morning,” Roman teases as they get the squirming noodle to the door, “while they’re having breakfast?”

“Thank goodness, maybe they’ll spare me when the cops come to kill all of us.”

“Or a rival gang.”

They shove the weird version of Janus back into the Imagination and shake themselves off. Roman picks up a piece of paper and jots it down. 

“Is it just me,” Virgil mutters, “or are they getting…weirder?”

“This is the first real weird one you’ve seen.”

“That has some implications that I do not like.”

“Uh-huh.” Roman shudders. “Just you wait. They’ll get weirder.”

“Is it too late to back out of this?”

“No. I can stop asking you if you want.”

Virgil reaches out and knuckles Roman’s shoulder. “I’m kidding. I couldn’t leave you to deal with all of that on your own.”

Roman doesn’t look at him for a moment, fiddling with the fingers on one hand. “I dunno, it’s just…this is pretty much a direct result of me not being able to deal with my own problems by myself, so…I would understand if you wanted to stop having to deal with them.”

Virgil looks at him for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, he says: “you know, sometimes I struggle with feeling useful.”

Roman whips his head around. “What?”

“Well, you guys come up with ideas, I’m only here to…point out the problems. Not that I’m not saying that’s not useful, but like…I gotta wait until you do all your work before I can even think about doing mine, do you get what I mean?”

“I believe so…Virgil, you—“

“So when you ask me for help with this,” Virgil says, speaking smoothly over him, “it makes me feel useful. This…this helps me too.”

Roman stops, staring at him in something that’s almost wonder. “It does?”

“Yeah, Princey. We—we’re all damaged in some way. We just gotta find someone else whose damage is compatible with ours.”

Roman blinks a few times as a slow smile spreads across his face. “Why, Virgil. That was almost poetic.”

“Shut up.”

“No, really, I’d love to see what you could write—“

“Shut up!”

———

“Hey, Roman?”

Roman looks up from his desk. “What’s up?”

Virgil shifts his weight from side to side. “Can we—this is a stupid question.”

“I’ve adjusted my expectations accordingly.” He shuts his laptop and turns to face him. “What can I do for you?”

“Can…can we go into the Imagination?” When Roman pauses for a moment, he quickly keeps going. “It’s just—I know I see it a bit when we throw the others back in and there’s not really a big difference and it’s all what you make of it but I just—you know what? Never mind. This was stupid.”

“No, no—“ Roman quickly stands up to catch Virgil’s elbow as he turns to leave— “no, Virgil, it’s not stupid. I’d love to take you to the Imagination.”

“You…you would?”

“Yeah. Do you wanna go now?”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Mindlessly scrolling, that’s it. Come on,” he coaxes, leading Virgil back toward the door, “it’ll be fun.”

Virgil keeps watching him warily until Roman manages to get them through the door. He closes it firmly behind them as Virgil stares around at the field they find themselves in, littered with wildflowers and grassy hills as it stretches out almost endlessly in front of them. 

“…whoa.”

“Do you like it?”

“Princey, this is…this is fucking pretty.”

Unbelievably, Roman feels himself start to blush. “You like it?”

“Fuck—yeah, Roman. This is—how do you not spend all of your time here?”

“Well, it gets a little boring just staring at fields of flowers forever, and sometimes—“

As if on cue, a massive bank of thunderclouds rolls in overhead and it begins to rain. 

“Sometimes it does that,” Roman sighs, already turning back to the Imagination door, “I’m sorry, I really can’t predict those, they just happen sometimes. Come on, you can borrow something dry, I don’t…”

He trails off when he notices Virgil’s not next to him. He looks back. 

Virgil stands in the middle of the flowers, his head tilted back toward the sky. The purple-black of his hoodie almost perfectly matches the purple-black of the clouds. His eyes close, feeling the rain on his face, hands slightly outstretched as if to welcome it. He looks—he looks—he—

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I—can I kiss you?”

Virgil looks at him and chuckles. “Getting real cliché, huh, Princey? Was this your plan?”

“N-no, not necessarily, I—wait, what? You’re not surprised?”

“I’m kinda surprised you asked first, but you are Romance.”

“You—you—“ Roman blinks. “Wait, you want to kiss me too?”

Virgil just grins and walks up to him. 

“Hi,” he murmurs as he kisses Roman, both of their eyes fluttering shut as the rain pours over them. 

Roman doesn’t need to worry about this not being the real Virgil. He’d never be capable of Imagining something as incredible as this. 

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[sabraeal]

Brewed With Intent, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 1: Attraction

“Well, I personally don’t see what the problem is.” There’s more shirt than Suzu when he shrugs; two layers at least that Shirayuki can count, and both of them wrinkle when he folds his arms across his chest. Defensive, like he expects her to grab him by one. Nervous, like she might be able to drag him over the counter that way. Or at least, like someone has tried. “You knew your order was ready, didn’t you?”

“It’s not that it wasn’t effective.” Hard to argue that when she’s already here, standing in Shidan’s shop, eager to avoid whatever he might cook up as a follow-up. “It’s just that the execution is lacking a little, um…”

The rotating display squeaks under Obi’s singular attention. “Soul?”

“Soul?” Suzu scoffs. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just send a…a cat! They’re way too high a consciousness to take to anything but the most advanced charms. Though” —one long-fingered hand raises, wrapping oh-too thoughtfully around his chin— “if I tweaked a few sigils, maybe a rat…?”

With a piercing squeal, the display’s tortured keens abruptly cease. It may be next to impossible to look at Obi, but by the tilt of his head, she knows his eyebrows must be scraping his hairline. “Bro. Vermin isn’t going to be an improvement on bird.”

“I thought pigeons were already considered—?”

“She’s not complaining about the genus, Suzu,” Yuzuri deadpans, one ear flicking at the precise rhythm Garrack's left eye used to, before— er, well, recent events. “It’s the method.”

“Really?” Suzu frowns, and to her dismay, turns it right on her. “Yuzuri did mention that she found its movements a little uncanny—”

“Gross,” she corrects with relish. “I called them gross.”

“—But I thought that if I tweaked a clause or two, I might be able to make it more bird-like.” He blinks down at her, more curious than concerned. “Do you think that might help?”

“Erm…” Her gaze doesn’t quite skitter over to Obi, but near enough that she can catch the encouraging arch of his eyebrows, the goading wave of his hands. “Maybe?”

Obi clucks his tongue. At her, she knows. It’s just— Suzu might be comfortable doling out cutting critique like her grandma did butter on bread, but ‘it’s an abomination’ is hardly constructive enough to be considered an objective review.  “I don’t think Miss cares about how it moves. It’s that it’s moving at all.”

Suzu scratches absently at where his goggles dig a divot in his curls. “But how else would it get to you?”

Yuzuri sighs, long suffering. “How many times do I have to explain this? It’s dead, Suzu. No one wants it to ‘get to them.’ They want it to go away!”

“What are you talking about? My messengers are a stunning example of highly skilled charm work! Besides,” he adds, confidence leaking from him like helium from a balloon. “It’s the only way to get people to pick up their orders.”

Obi cocks his head, curious, like a cat. “Doordash has an app.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about a lack of soul—?”

“What about the coin?” Shirayuki blurts out, before she can think better of it. “That’s what the shop used to use, right? A coin that was spelled to glow?”

“Well, yeah, at one point. But metal is really more Shidan’s element, you know.” Suzu has all the height he needs to look down his nose at them naturally, but his chin takes a prideful tilt anyway, giving him an extra inch or two. “If I’m taking over order management, I've got to rely on my own talents. That’s what Shidan told me. Work with my own medium.”

Yuzuri cocks her head, ears splayed in annoyance. “And that medium just so happens to be dead stuff?”

“We can’t pick our natural proclivities,” he sniffs. “Besides, everyone always complained about the coin thing anyhow.”

Like most of the words Garrack said this morning, the answer to this is seared in her mind. “Easily lost?”

“See?” Suzu jabs out a hand. “Shirayuki gets it. No one’s going to lose a bird.”

Yuzuri throws up her hands. “A dead bird!”

“Listen, I’ll give you: no one’s gonna lose it.” Obi braces a hip against the counter. “But they are gonna run away.”

“What, why?” Suzu huffs. “It’s a bird, everyone loves birds!”

A strong stance to take in a city where Shirayuki has routinely watched commuters throw their purses at the pigeons perched at the bus stop. “Well, maybe that’s true, but ah…these ones talk.”

“Oh yeah.” Shirayuki doesn’t so much see Obi shiver as the air around him trembles, tracing goosebumps up her own arms. “Talk about nightmare fuel.”

“What’s wrong with the way it talks?” Suzu leans over the counter, all business now, face furrowed with stern curiosity. “Is there some sort of pitch change? Or maybe a slow down effect, or static—?”

“Oh, buddy.” A breath whistles through Obi’s teeth, pitying. “You wish it was something that simple.”

Suzu’s eyebrows disappear beneath the curtain of his curls. “What do you—?”

There’s a rustle and a clatter before the back door swings open, guided by Shidan’s hip before the rest of him bustles through, letting it swing back on its hinges. “All right then. Took a little bit of doing, and a couple of, er, spectacular failures—”

“He set his beard on fire,” Yuzuri mutters, “twice.”

“—But I think I managed to get something that’ll work.” He glances over at Obi, only for his eyes to skitter back over to the much safer harbors. “For your…special circumstances, I mean.”

Obi’s lips tug at a corner. “No explosions?”

“No.” Shidan attempts to meet his eyes, but only makes it to his shoulder before he shudders, retreating straight back to the counter. “None of that.”

Shirayuki can’t tell if Obi’s raising his eyebrows or furrowing them, but his whole body curves into a question over the counter, so— he’s curious. Maybe even impatient. “Well, hope it goes with my fit.”

A wooden box settles on the counter, a different grain than the polished oak it sits on. Shidan’s the one to slide the lid open, revealing a plush green cushion beneath, and on it—

“Oh,” she hums, surprised. “A necklace?”

It’s not anything fancy; no precious gems or rare metals. Just a thin slate of clear quartz a little smaller than her thumb hanging from a cord. Not Obi’s usual style— he’s more into leather wristbands and collars that look like they could come straight from the pet section of Fred Meyer, but  there’s a quiver in his shoulders when he looks down, an expectant stillness in his casual lean. He likes it.

“I don’t often work with jewelry.” Shidan shuffles, almost nervous as she lifts it off its cushion, letting the crystal dangle from her fist. “Clockwork is really my wheelhouse, really. But after Suzu explained the lengths you all went through so Obi could use a smartphone…”

Shidan’s hardly closed his teeth around that last syllable before Obi’s whipped it out, a smooth screen wrapped in a thick rubber case. Lines bite deep into the silicone, straight rays and curving spirals, a sigil so complex it’d taken Suzu nearly five days to complete it. According to Yuzuri, he’d slept for nearly two straight days after, only rousing to shuffle to the bathroom before throwing himself back into mattress.

“I can drop this baby down the stairs and there’s not a scratch on it,” he informs Shidan proudly. “Just last week a genius loci tried to swallow it and I didn’t even lose service.”

By the way Shidan’s gaze cuts to her, he doesn’t miss the implication that Obi was inside it at the time. “It was in a sewer,” she adds, although she doubts context will take the concern out of his eyes. “Obi wasn’t to its, er, taste.”

“Ah, well,” he murmurs, faint. “Good thing I thought cogs and gears might not be very compatible with his…biological peculiarities. I see that might not have been a good fit lifestyle-wise either.”

“No,” she agrees, thinking of the last kelp forest he’d had to extract her from. That couldn’t have been more than a month ago, maybe two. And certainly not the first. Nor the last. “Our work doesn’t tend to be, ah…”

“Dry?” he offers, a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Definitely not.” Shirayuki tilts her hand, crystal tumbling against her knuckles, and ah— the light splits over it, a thousand tiny etchings shining gold. Air hisses through her teeth. “This is amazing, Shidan. We can’t have possibly paid you enough for this amount of—”

Care. Attention. A hundred thousands words that evaporate the moment he rubs at his neck, and she remembers Garrack doing the same. Garrack who had mouth marks all the way down past her collar and—

Ah, she’s just not going to think about what Shidan might be keeping beneath his. “Um, never mind.” Her cheeks heat as she drops it back in the box. “Just…thank you.”

“No need to stand around thanking me.” He lifts his chin, encouraging, “Try it out.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Oh! Are you, um…sure?”

Both his eyebrows lift. “No point being so grateful if you get all the way home and find out it doesn’t even work.”

“Or worse.” Yuzuri’s ears give a playful flick. “It turns him into a frog of something.”

Shidan glares at his apprentice. “It’s not going to turn him into a frog.”

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m sure the Emerald Lady didn’t think that nice scarf of hers would turn into a fireball either.” The chair she’s in isn’t built for lounging, but Yuzuri lifts her legs up over the arm of it anyway, somehow casual even though she can’t possibly fit. “Who knows what Obi’s body chemistry is gonna do to this thing.”

“No one is going to get turned into a frog. Or a fireball,” Shidan assures her. “It’s just…best to try it out in the shop, where I can work out the kinks, if there are any.”

“And where we have a fire extinguisher.” At Shidan’s glare, Suzu offers, “Just in case.”

“Thanks,” Obi says dryly. “Real vote of confidence, there.”

Suzu shrugs, nearly lost under the labyrinth of shirts. “Forewarned is forearmed. And also keeps our insurance premiums down.”

There’s a pause where Shirayuki waits for him to pick it up, to make some crack about fashion or disaster or both as he hooks it over his own head, but—

But instead Obi just stands there, shoulders half-hunched and…awkward. It might be hard for her to look directly at him, to overcome the overwhelming instinct to not see, but the problem has never been mutual— oh, no, he insists on keeping at least one eye on her at all times; just in case you get any ideas about windows, he’d say, too-sharp teeth flashing at the corner of her vision. But now he’s got his head turned, looking anywhere but at her, and she— she doesn’t like it. Not one bit. “Obi—?”

“Shirayuki,” Yuzuri hisses, ears pulling back. “Don’t be rude. You know that Obi can’t take what he’s not given.”

That’s not…strictly true. There’s been more than a few times she’s had to traipse back to the service counter at the store to return the contents of his pockets. Can’t help it, he’d sigh, still looking too proud of himself, I’m trickster-blooded. Can’t help causing a little chaos. Ryuu had once tried to tease out the logic of it, to try to understand how a little petty thievery wasn’t against even infernal rules, only to find himself in a quagmire of loopholes within loopholes, buried in fine print. Certainly a looser definition of ownership than she’d thought the Lower Courts would take.

But still, he wouldn’t steal anything from her. And not just because of who holds his contract.

“It’s yours,” she reminds him, staring at where the edge of his pockets cut across his wrists. “I had it made for you.”

Still, he doesn’t move. Nothing more than one of his too-many-eyelid blinks.

“Ah, that…” Shidan clears his throat. “I believe that by the ruling of the Lower Courts, a gift is the property of the giver until it is physically given. There might even be, er, formalities involved.”

It’s habit to glance at him, to meet his eyes and find the answer there, but—

They skitter away, like they always do, dread churning in her stomach and bile licking at the back of her throat. But not before she sees the tension in his hunched shoulders, in the contorted way he’s twisted his neck, baring it like a dog expecting a kick. “O-oh.”

Her fingers are numb, clumsy when she fumbles the cord from the box. Still, she manages to hook it around the first set of her knuckles, thrusting it out in the space between them. A smaller gap than she’d perceived, she realizes, when her hands have to haul up short to keep from crashing into his chest.

“Obi,” she breathes, watching the pendant tremble with the same rhythm as her fingertips. That’s how some divination works, she remembers. Sympathetic nerve twitches. “You…I mean, I think…you’ll have to bend down…?”

She can’t look at him, not directly, but even she can see the way his eyes blink wide. “Haah…right.”

He stoops, head jutting out awkwardly from his shoulders, baring the long, tanned column of his neck. Without his eyes on her, the soft animal that is her fear only quivers in her belly, letting her lean close enough to count vertebrae. It’s strange to see this much of his skin, for him to let himself be so…vulnerable. A strange heat gathers beneath her belly, scintillating like magic before a charm, and she swallows to keep her hands steady, to keep them from brushing through the bristle of his hair just to see what it feels like.

“I…” There’s no reason for her mouth to be so dry, or her cheeks to be this warm. “I…ah…bequeath this to you.”

The cord settles against the knob on his spine, shifting as he straightens, all six-foot-even of him. The crystal spins helplessly on its cord, settling against his chest. His skin, she realizes, his collar open just enough to let it lay flat against that smooth sliver of copper. His eyes settle on her again, and she feels that flutter of the soft animal in her, the one that feels his attention and longs to flee—

And then, suddenly, it doesn’t. Her fear curls right in on itself, and like a mouse in winter, settles in for a long nap.

Which leaves Obi right there in front of her. Visible, for once.

She hesitates. Why, she can’t say. It’s only—

“Miss?” Obi’s never sounded any less confident than cocky, and yet now his voice trembles, and she…she looks.

Even without being able to see him, there were things about Obi she knew. He was tall for one— taller than her, at least, even if he never thought that much of an achievement. Lean, but in the way gymnasts were, or the kids who played at doing parkour in the park. Skin that wouldn’t fit in even the broadest definition of white. Dark haired enough that she couldn’t tell if it was him using her brush or Ryuu. But now—

“Is the Asian thing because like, BTS is hot right now?” Suzu asks, never one to be constrained by social niceties. “Or is that…?”

“My dad.” His hand snakes up to his shoulder, squeezing. “At least, I think. The Lower Courts keep records, but…”

He shrugs. One shoulder, matching the slant of his mouth, casual and wry. Devil-may-care, some would say. It fits him the way his leather jacket does, clinging in all the right places, molding to his shape. Well-worn. Familiar.

Yuzuri gives him one good glance, boots to bristle, and hooks her hands around her hips. “Oh my god,” she groans, utterly dismayed. “You’re hot.”

There’s a shift when she says that, Obi’s stiff spine melting away so that he can slink up to the counter. Each vertebrae articulates like a cat prowling in the grass, pulling his proportions impossibly long, incredibly lean. “What’s the problem? I thought you liked eye candy.”

“Yeah, but I know you. Hot guys are like Monets” — Yuzuri holds up her hand, keeping him at a distance— “they only look good if you don’t know about all the mess.”

“I always thought that was sort of neat,” Suzu says. “The technique is part of the appreciation, you know.”

“Suzu, we already know you’re a good person or whatever,” she informs him, bored. “You don’t have to tell us.”

“What about you, Miss?” Obi arches back against the counter, languid as his grin. “What do you think?”

Her mouth works, trying to explain that she— that he—

His eyes crease, right at the corner, watching her with a fondness she’s always felt but never saw, and—

“I…” They’re gold. His eyes. So striking it’s an effort to look away. “I think we might need to get you a pair of sunglasses.”

[alt0writings]

Flowers and dates

fandom: supernatural

Dean Winchester x GN!reader

Note: I know I am two stories behind I am working on getting them out as soon as I can more notes at the bottom.

Monday

the bell rung above my door. I look up and smile as two men walk into the store they seem to be arguing about something. It was none of my business but I will admit I was curious about what they were talking about.

I continued to wipe the counter down. the men walked up to the counter and they stopped talking, the taller man put his hand on the counter. "Excuse me, but do you have lotus and perhaps maybe even datura?" the tall man asked.

I nod and smile "yes I do sell those but unfortunately the shipment hasn't come in yet" I smile apologetic at the two men. the shorter one sighed and ran his fingers threw his hair, "alright, come on Sam."

the Sam guy looked a little disappointed, I felt bad "I am very sorry" Sam shook his head and smiled. "it's not your fault," both men start walking towards the door before Sam turns around. "when would you get those in?" I peek under my counter and read the paper for shipments.

"tomorrow, I should have them in tomorrow." I nod and smile slightly at them. the shorter one nods and smiles shyly back a pink hue dusted his cheeks, Did he always look so adorable? "we'll uh.. be back uh.. tomorrow then" he nervously laughs and scratches the back of his neck. they both walk out the door.

what a weird start to my week.

Tuesday

I huffed and wiped my forehead, these boxes are so heavy. "do you need help?" I jumped and let out a small squeak. spinning around and tripping backwards, hands grabbed my arms and stopped me from hitting the ground.

"Woah there, be careful" he laughs I glare at him before it hits me. "oh.. OH! you're the guy from yesterday, the one that came in with the taller one" He groans and blushes, "yeah.. yeah, so uh.. you need help?" I step closer and do puppy eyes "yes please help me!"

he laughs and strikes me with his dazzling smile.

woah.

"yeah I'll help you" he went and picked up a box "where does this one go?" I smile and point over to the daisy's.

it took an hour to get all of the boxes into the shop I wipe my hands on my pants. "hey my names dean by the way" he nervously scratched the back of his neck, I smile and nod "well nice to meet you dean my names Y/n" I hold out my hand for him to shake.

He shakes my hand "woah.." he whispered and a pink hue dusted his cheeks "I uh.. like y-your name." I shyly smile "thank you" I said before glancing at the clock on the wall

"Oh no! I have to go," I rush and push him out the door. I flip the sign to close and lock the door "I am super late for a date good bye dean!" I yelled out behind me as I took off running down the side walk.

wednesday

I sigh tugging gently on the pedals of a flower, I just wanted to go home and sleep on my couch. I place the flower back down in a vase, the bell above the door rings, I was expecting dean but it was just Mr. Joonson. I gave him a smile but he must of saw through it.

"what's wrong Y/n?" he says while placing his normal order of flowers. I smile "oh nothing just tired I guess." he scoffs "you and my wife are the same person I swear!"

I laugh and roll the designed paper around the flowers. I place a ribbon around the paper and tie it together. "I can see that you are lying yet you won't tell me what's wrong, does it have something to do with that boy?" I raised my eye brow and stared at him. "what boy?" he smirks "Y/n I have been married to shelly for 19 years. I know that love look." I shyly smile and hand him the bouquet. "no and his name is dean Mr. Joonson" I said to him teasingly he smiles and shakes his head "see you next week Y/n" I wave goodbye to him and smile I envy their marriage. I shrug "welp back to work" I mumble out loud to myself

thursday

I sigh it's only two hours into my shift and I am already ready to leave, I yawn and lay my head on the counter closing my eyes for a minute. the bell above the door rings. I lazily open one eye and am met with a dazzling smile.

Dean.

"Hey, I came in to see..uhh." He seemed to freeze up a pink dust covered his cheeks, I yawn and sit up stretching. "To see if the flowers were in?"

He nods blushing even more. "Yeah to see if the flowers are in.." His voice got quiet but I paid no mind. I get out from behind the counter and start going through the flowers "what flowers were you looking for again?" He coughed and shook his head.

"Oh uhm. Lotus and uh date or something doubt-" I cut him off "Datura." He nods, "yeah that." I smile and start looking through the D's.

Daisy, Dandelions, Datura.

"Got it, how many did you need?" I turn towards him. "Uh maybe like four?" He says confused. I chuckle and nod "four it is" I pick up four and hold them in my other hand "now lets go find the lotus.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L. "Here" i said as I grabbed four of them "come on I will wrap these."

We both walk back to the counter and I pull out the design paper wrapping the flowers. I grab a ribbon and tie it around the middle of the bouquet. "Here you go dean" I smile at him, he seems kind of nervous.

"Hey uh.. Will you uh.." He groaned and scratched the back of his head.

"Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?" He huffs out, I could see the uncertainty and doubt in his eyes.

I smile and nod "yeah sure I'm not doing anything tomorrow anyway." His smile widened and he nodded before walking out the door. He was trying to keep his composure as he walked out the door.

I walked to the window, he was crossing the street and doing a happy skip to his car. I could see sam outside the car leaning against it, I laughed and shook my head before going back to the counter.

What a weird week this has been.

Friday

Today was rather uneventful, I sigh and glance over at the outfit I have picked out for the date. I don't have his number either so I don't know when he is coming, I glance at the clock.

The clock said 4:08pm, I close the shop soon. I heard a rumbling from outside, it’s starting to rain. I groan why does it have to rain? I lay my head down on my crossed arms and close my eyes. 

The bell rings and the sound of wet squeaky boots sound on the tiled floor. I open my eyes and sit up.

There in all his glory was Dean. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a red flannel jacket  and jeans. I smile “well don’t you look dapper” he blushes and has a sly smile, “yeah, I had no dress pants or a nice shirt besides this one.” he nervously laughs.

I shake my head “you’re fine dean I don’t expect you to be in a suit and pullin’ up in a limo” I laugh out “let me get around real fast and we can leave” I grab the outfit and walk into the back employee bathroom and lock it. 

After changing, I unlock the door and walk out towards the front of the store. When I round the corner I find him crouched and cursing under his breath.

In front of him was a knocked over flower pot, he was trying to get the pot together and the dirt back in the pot. I smiled and leaned against the wall to watch for a minute, he huffed and pushed the flower back into the dirt and placed the pot back on the windowsill.

He seemed proud of himself, I let out a little laugh covering my mouth. He jumped and whirled around “how long were you standing there!” I shake my head and walk up to him.

“Not that long, Don’t worry about it.” I say while smiling, he smiles back and sticks out his arm. I take his arm. 

“Thank you” I say politely.

We both walked out into the rain parked right in front of us, was his car. He opened the passenger door and closed it when I got in.

He ran to the driver's side and quickly got in, "I am sorry if you got wet" he says while turning on the heat "I didn't know it was gonna rain" he forced out a chuckle before starting the car.

"It's ok" I smiled at him "so where are we going?" I question while buckling my seat belt in.

He smiles "A diner" he lets out a small laugh. "A nice diner" I smile and nod "ok sounds nice" I looked out the window for the rest of the ride.

It took about 15 minutes to get to the diner, there weren't many cars parked in the parking lot, it being around 5 so it was a little late for people to be out and at a diner. Dean pulled up into a parking spot close to the front door, the rain calmed down quite a bit but it was still pouring rain out there. 

“Alright, are you ready?” he laughs while turning to look at me, I laugh and nod. We both quickly get out and run inside. We laugh as we push each other through the door, I shake my head “sh! come on let’s not disturb these poor people” I quietly whisper to him. 

We go and sit down at a booth, an older looking lady walks over and hands us two menus. “So what can I do for you sweets?” she turned to me, I smiled “I will just get a  cheesy bacon burger with fries” dean gasped and stared at me in awe. “I planned on getting the same thing!” I laugh “really?” I said before handing my menu to the waitress “yeah I totally was” he says doing the same thing. “I’ll be back with your orders hun’s” the waitress said as she walked away. 

“You’re very interesting Y/n” I whipped my head towards dean. “Really?” he nods before he clears his throat and blushes “yeah, and even though this is the beginning of our date I would like to have another one if you are up to it?” he says leaning on the table.

My smile widens and turns into an evil smirk “hm, well I would have to see about it.” I could feel the disappointment coming off him in waves. I laugh “I am just joking of course I will go on another date with you.”

He looked like an oversized puppy, he was happy.

Note: so I have been dealing with this sickness for a week and a half it's been destroying me, but I have been trying to write this for you all and school has kept me so busy when I wasn't sick so I am super sorry that this is late.

[bed-of-ashes]

jojo + netty soulmate meeting

Netty could hear someone, but she could not, for the love of all things holy, see where they were.

Until they fell from a tree.

Jojo pulled herself up from the ground, a tangle of limbs and dark hair. She huffed as she reached a hand up to straighten her glasses. Only then did she seem to notice Netty, obvious in the little “oh” she let out. She coughed, offering a sheepish smile. “Hey there.”

Netty couldn’t help the scrap of laughter that bubbled up. She approached Jojo with her hands outstretched, silently asking if she was alright. Jojo shrugged, brushing a patch of dirt off her sleeve.

“Hey, you’re looking a little beaten down yourself,” she pointed out, gesturing at Netty’s—well, at Netty. Her eyebrows knit, which was frankly ridiculous. Netty wasn’t the one that had just fallen from a tree.

Netty frowned, looking herself over. “Oh, I suppose I do, huh. I thought I was being careful.”

Jojo tilted her head curiously. “Has your soulmate been taking loads of damage, then? Because, like, I saw Stacy miss the water when she jumped off the mountain, got her down to like two hearts.”

“No, I don’t think so?” Netty craned her neck around. Her back was aching something fierce, and her tailbone felt like it’d jammed itself against a brick wall. Bruises would probably coat the lower half of her torso by the next morning. “Huh. I don’t know when that happened, to be honest.”

An odd, off-center beat of silence passed. Jojo opened her mouth once, closed it, and tried again. “You didn’t happen to take damage when I fell, did you?”

Netty blinked.

Huh.

She grimaced with a smile, shrugging. “This is rather silly, but I’m not very good with pain? I always wake up in the morning with all these scratches and marks that I swear I didn’t get. My brother used to tease me for it, I think. Called me clumsy and all.”

Jojo’s mouth quirked upward. “Okay, how about– how about you pinch me?” She brandished her arm, shoving back her sleeve and sticking it in Netty’s face. “I don’t wanna hurt you, so you do it.”

Laughing, Netty reached up. “This looks rather ridiculous out of context.”

“Yeah, well, good thing we’re the only ones around, then,” Jojo said with a grin. She waved her arm around.

Netty pinched her gently, hardly causing any pain at all. Nevertheless, a twin bloom of upset nerves flashed on her own upper arm like they themselves had been subject to it.

Both of their eyes flashed up, staring at each other. Neither of them had prepared the correct reaction for this situation. 

Jojo broke the silence first. “Yo,” she whispered excitedly. “We’re soulmates, Net!”

Netty’s grin split her face so hard she was certain Jojo could feel it. “Aww! This is so sweet, I–” Her words tumbled out quicker than her mouth could keep up. “I’m honored to be your soulmate.”

“The honor’s all mine.” Jojo snatched Netty’s hand with a flourish, bending down and bowing. She pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Welcome to team Jetty!”

“We’re working on that name.”

“Nope.”

“Why were you in the tree, anyway?”

Jojo turned away. “Would you hate me if I told you parkour is mainly how I get around?”

Netty snorted. “We’re building a treehouse. It’s fate. Treehouses are a necessity.”

“Net, I am already in love with you. Marry me.”

She gasped. “Buy me dinner first! Jeez.”

“I mean, I already bruised your entire back, so–”

Netty shoved her, ignoring the press of pain in her own side. These were going to be an interesting few weeks.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 11]

Candy Crash

TW: Implied Drug Use, Raving, Rave Fight(?) Genre: Romance, Comedy Pairing: Kim Jungwoo x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 0.6K Prompt: Treat.

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: It's always nice when the prompt and the member lines up well Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

"Jungwoo? Hey! Earth to Jungwoo!" You waved your hand in front of him, but his eyes were glazed over and his attention not there at all. "What happened to him?" You asked Mark.

"Too much candy, it gets the best of us," Mark shakes his head with a frown. "Dude crashed hard."

"This has to be more than too much candy!" You shook Jungwoo and he blinked.

"Where am I? What day is it?" He shakes his head.

"Oh, man, he really doesn't remember anything," Mark gasps and you frown.

"What happened?" He asks cautiously.

"Well..." you trailed off.

~

"I love Halloween!" Jungwoo exclaims, shoving a handful of candy into his mouth.

"Careful, Woo, where'd you get that candy from?" You readjusted your costume and Jungwoo leans toward you.

"What?!" Go figure, he couldn't hear you over the deafening music. You had both decided to go to a Halloween rave just because it was nearby, but this was Jungwoo's first rave, and probably not one a newbie should have gone to but at least he's having fun.

"The candy! Where did you get it from?!" You took one of the wrappers and gasped. "Jungwoo! That's not candy!"

"What do you mean?!"

"Oh my god, how many of these did you eat?!" You tried to count the handful of wrappers and Jungwoo shrugged.

"I dunno."

"Jungwoo!" You dug a hand through your hair and he grins.

"It's fine, it's fine! Let's just have fun!"

"Dude, how are you even still walking?!" You took the unwrapped one from his hands and chucked it over your shoulder.

"Fuck it, we ball," Jungwoo slings an arm over your shoulders and drags you into the mosh and you chug the rest of your drink before it could spill out of your hands.

~

"I ate what?!" Jungwoo held an icepack to his head while you dug through Mark's cabinet for some Advil.

"You really surprised us both," Mark shrugs.

"Wait... how did we end up in Mark's house?"

"You don't remember?" You looked back at him and he shakes his head.

~

"Jungwoo! Jungwoo, what's wrong?" You shook him until he composed himself.

"I just really miss Mark."

"Mark? Like, Lee?!" You asked, surprised.

"Yeah!"

"Uh..." you look around and squinted through the strobes. "Okay, we'll call him."

"Promise?"

"I swear?" You dialed Mark's number and while it was ringing Jungwoo takes another candy out of his pocket and you take it and chuck it into the trash bin. "Who keeps giving you these?!"

"That guy," Jungwoo points at the man holding a basket.

"Yuta fucking Nakamoto when I get my hands on you!" You charged at him and Yuta shoved his basket to another person before bolting and Jungwoo, confused, ran after you and tackled Yuta down.

~

"We got into a fight?!" Jungwoo shouts.

"Dude you won the fight!" Mark exclaims. "You should've seen (Y/N), sent Yuta flying."

"Here you go, Woo," you handed him the medicine and he swallows it down with water, "you also owe Yuta $500." Jungwoo choked on his water and you rubbed his back.

"Why?!"

"You ate a lot of candy."

"Fuck!"

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[jaydelta]

soft pre-relationship marcbeth moment

"Do you sleep in the suit?"

Beth speaks suddenly from where she's perched on the counter, head tilting as she watches him. "... Do you sleep at all?"

"Why are you up?" Marc sighs, tugging his mask up so he can take a swig of his coffee. "Thought everyone was asleep."

"Everyone but me," she shrugs, swinging her feet. "You gonna answer my question?"

"You gonna answer mine?"

She honest to God giggles at that, and he has to clench his jaw to keep from smiling at her.

"That's fair," she tells him with a grin. "Just couldn't sleep, I guess. Your turn, Mr. Knight."

"I sleep."

"In the suit?" She asks, perking up a little bit. Despite how late it is, her eyes are bright behind her glasses.

"Beth," He says flatly, turning to give her a look.

"Sorry, sorry," she's grinning up at him, gripping the counter as she leans forward. "Can't resist." Her hair is down, for once, he realizes belatedly, pooling around her shoulders in pink waves. Her roots are coming in, dark brown in sharp contrast to the pastel shades she favors, and there are bags under her eyes.

"You look like shit," he says, watching her watch him. "Am I working you too hard?"

"Just what every girl wants to hear," she deadpans, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not what I meant. You know you're gorgeous, you look exhausted."

"You think I'm pretty?"

"You're avoiding the question," he sighs, setting down his cup and crossing his arms as he leans against the wall.

"I am," she agrees quietly, smile fading. "I'll be fine. Always am. Cross my heart."

"You still haven't answered me," he points out, equally soft, as he steps closer to her. She's cast in shadow in the dim light, and if he tries, he can pretend they're teenagers in his first apartment again, can pretend there's no Moon Knight and no Midnight Mission, can pretend that neither of them have died and come back, that he's just a little jaded and she's still as bright as she ever was.

But then he steps a little closer, and he can see how pale she is. Can see the scar that wraps around her neck. Can see the way her eyes glint red. She tries to hide the way her deaths have affected her, but he knows her, and he sees it every time he looks at her.

"Talk to me, Beth," he says quietly, setting a hand on the counter next to her. He's careful with the way he stands, trying not to make her feel cornered.

"You're not overworking me," she tells him, focusing her gaze on his hand next to hers. "You don't need to worry about me, Spector."

"I'm always gonna worry about you," he admits, following her line of sight. Her nails are painted blue and there are colorful bandaids on her fingers, looking all the brighter next to his white glove. "... You been having nightmares again?"

"Is it again if I never stopped?" Her eyes fall shut as she sighs quietly, hand brushing against his as she readjusts her grip on the countertop. "I'm okay. Promise."

"You're a shit liar."

"Only to you," she says, eyes still closed. "You know me too well."

He reaches out with his free hand, tilting her face so he can see her better. If she's surprised by the touch, she doesn't show it, just leans into him a little bit as she blinks up at him.

"You should get some sleep," he murmurs, thumb brushing along her cheekbone.

"Yeah," she says softly, eyes fluttering closed again. "I should."

For a long moment, neither of them move, and then Marc exhales and steps away, pulling his hand away and tugging his mask back down. He watches her as she slips off the counter to pad down the hall, silent.

She pauses a little too long in the doorway and he's about to ask if she's okay before she speaks again.

"G'night, Marc."

"Night, Beth," he returns, meeting her gaze as she looks over her shoulder at him. "Sleep well."