#i just need some small things to spark my muse again u know

[flxmekeepr]

like for a canon one-liner !

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 9 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Wrecked

Summary: Everything seems perfect the morning after - until Wrecker starts acting strange.

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Dom drop, aftercare, breeding kink, shiny's being jerks.

Notes: I'm experimenting writing more with less, since sometimes I get too caught up in the words - I may or may not like it. Regardless, please enjoy Wrecker being a sweet boy.

Word Count: 5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

The bliss of a truly rested sleep is really second to none. Waking slowly from the comforting embrace of peace, you feel the necessary rest down to your soul.

That is - until you shift to stretch - and feel the full effects of yesterdays ‘punishments’.

Your stretching squeal becomes a mournful moan as you ache in places you’ve never ached before - and are met with a soft chuckle and a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Mmhmm. The lesson continues,” Crosshair smirks, kissing your nose from where he stands by his bed. You squint open your eyes and pout at him before turning your back to him, showing your disdain for his teasing. He chuckles again and gently spanks you, making you turn to pout at him again as he scoots in behind you. 

“Don’t be like that. It’s your own fault anyway,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing gently as his hand gently rubs over your hip, your thigh. 

“Hmph,” you pout away from him, too sleepy to think of a comeback.

He lightly nips along where Hunter bit you the night before, making you gasp at the light pull of memory. 

“Nnnn Crosshair, don’t get me going this early I’m so SORE.”

He smirks in your ear. “You want to stay here then?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Hmph, alright. We’re going to the mess for whatever serves as breakfast out here. You want us to bring you back something?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod in affirmation, eyes still closed, voice sleepy. “Y’s please.”

Another chuckle by your ear. “Its a good thing you’re cute.”

“M’super cute.”

“You are. We’ll be back.”

The rest is like hazy background noise as you drift in the peaceful stream of ‘sleepy’.

“So she is staying?” Tech, quietly.

“Mmhmm.” The sound of a toothpick between teeth. 

“Hmph. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Hunter, smirking. Various armors being put on. Echo’s chuckle, the sound of blasters finding holsters, its all starting to fade as you slip back into-

“Wrecker.”

Hunter’s voice is just above a whisper.

 “Hey Wrecker,” a little louder, trying not to disturb you, but obviously working to get attention. “Come on, we’re headed to the mess. Grub time.”

You don’t hear any movement, just a voice, facing towards a wall - just above a whisper, and very, very guilty.

“U-uh you guys go ahead, I-I’m not really hungry.”

Everything stops.

You’re up and by his bed before you know you’ve thought about it, pulling his shoulder towards you to make him look up, the scanner you whisked from your pack blinking readings as you draw it down his face.

He freezes like a porg in headlights as you finish your scan. You set it down in confusion, hand to his forehead. 

Hunter is just over your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with him?”

You scan again for anything, anything. “His vitals are fine. There’s no fever.”

“None of the side effects from the inoculations mentioned lack of appetite?” Tech muses quietly.

“Even if it did, Wrecker always has an appetite. He defies the odds,” Echo says firmly.

A small spark of worry in your chest has you on your feet. “I’ll take him to the infirmary and do some more tests to see if it’s anything -”

A hand grabs your wrist as you turn to get dressed. You look to where Wrecker waits, his eyes panicked instead of surprised.

“NO, no, I’m fine, really. Just… just not hungry, ok? I don’t need to… uh, go with them to the mess.” He looks down and away from his brothers.

Oh.

You almost kick yourself.

OH.

You turn to the others, “Alright my dears, I’ll take it from here. Out.” You shoo them towards the door, ignoring the fact that you’re giving orders while completely naked.

Hunter raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure-”

“BIP bip bip bip, go. Out. Bring back food for two, please. Don’t hurry back.”

The door whisks closed so fast it almost catches Echo’s kama.

You turn back to Wrecker, sitting on the bed beside him. “They’ve gone, honey.”

He looks over at you, briefly meeting your eyes before looking off to the side- he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His eyes meet yours again, pleading for help with whatever he needs to say. Your heart melts a bit for him - your gentle giant, in unknown territory. You scoot closer to him, putting your head to his, your hand on his cheek.

“I’m right here, I’m listening. Take your time.”

He sighs in relief, closing his eyes and breathing with you. He wraps his arms around you and rolls onto his side, pulling you over him so you’re the closest to the bulk head. He buries his face in your neck - aw, he’s hiding. You stroke his bald head to soothe him, letting him find the words he needs.

You don’t have to wait long. “Are you….ok?” 

Something in his tone sets off your mental alarm bells.

“I’m wonderful. A little sore, but its a good sore. Why, honey?”

“I didn’t… hurt you, right? You aren’t… mad at me?”

…shit.

“Oh darling, no,” you say, fully turning to face him, your hand cupping his face. He leans into it, still avoiding your eyes. “No no no. I’m so grateful to you. I loved last night. I feel so lucky that all of you gave to me like that. I’m the happiest woman alive this morning.”

He finally looks up at you, still looking guilty. “Really?” 

“Yes yes yes, a thousand times yes,” you say quietly, smiling. “All the things we did last night were things I’d talked to Crosshair and Hunter about enjoying - I may have seemed like I was upset, but it's what I wanted.”

“So I’m… I’m not a bad person for liking it?”

“No,” you say firmly, still staying quiet so it doesn’t sound like a reprimand. “I like those things being done to me. And you can like doing those things to me because I’m saying yes. If you liked those things and I was screaming my safe word, that would not be ok, but that’s what a safe word is for - to tell you when I’m not ok.”

“I… w’ll, I know that. But I still feel like what I did was wrong. I don’t understand, I liked it at the time, but… I started thinking about it, and now…Whats wrong with me?”

“Nothing, babe, nothing at all. This happens sometimes, and it means you care about me, and you would never hurt me if I asked you to stop. This proves you’re a good person, not a bad one. This happens, a lot of people in your position can feel like this after they do some of what we did last night. It even has a name. It’s called ‘dom drop’.”

“It… it is?” Understanding and relief start to show on his face. You start to breathe again.

“Mmhmm.”

He’s relaxing, slowly, but steadily. “Did the others feel like this?”

You trace along his face scar. “I don’t know. They may have at some point, either last night or before, but if this isn’t their first time they probably have ways to care for themselves.” He nods, thinking. You stroke the side of his face, being sure to meet his eyes. “Babe, I’m sorry. There are things to watch out for, and I didn’t think of you in the moment at all. It was your first time, I should have checked in with you. I’m so sorry, and I’ll work to communicate with you so much more, starting right now.”

He looks at you, still hesitant, but nods before burying his head into your shoulder again.

You mentally kick yourself, feeling the gravity of your responsibility settle on you - this is the second time you left him in the dust. If you were going to make this work with all five of them, you needed to up your game - to make sure you took care of those who needed you at those junctures. And Wrecker needed you to pay more attention to guiding him - he was new to all of this.

No use beating yourself up. You didn’t know who would need what before, but now you do.

Time to make it right.

You kiss his head, willing his worries away. “What do you need right now, darling? Snuggles? Kisses? Closeness?” He nods, snuggling closer. You smile, settling into the security of his strength around you.

The silence is peaceful. You feel him breathing, heart slowing. You stroke his head, trailing kisses every few strokes. You feel him relax against you, tension releasing… but there’s still a sadness. Something isn’t quite right yet. You let your mind wander over what past lovers have liked, have asked for in their care.

 “Do you want to hear about what I liked last night?”

He looks up again in surprise - and nods. Good.

You smile, settling into him and the pillow while thinking back. “Hmm…I liked having you in my mouth while the other two were inside me.” He grins. 

You continue. “I liked when you spanked me - it felt so good to have you so big in me and spanking me at the same time. I want to do that again, if you do.” His eyes spark in interest, and you can feel something near your pelvis firm. 

Heeheehee.

“I like hearing you lose yourself and go hard with me - using me to cum like that. I liked how you didn’t let me cum, but you really wanted to. I always love feeling you cum inside of me, and what you said about wanting to push so far inside of me was SO hot.”

He gets bashful again. Interesting. “Yeah?”

You prop yourself up on one elbow, fingers tracing along his shoulders. “What did you like about last night?”

He swallows. “How hot you looked tied up like that. It was really… kriffing hot.”

You giggle in response. He smiles.

“When you choked on me because Echo fucked you so hard. That felt so good.”

“Oooo, I remember that. The look on your face was very attractive.”

He smiles. “I’m glad the boys made me wait, cause I really wanted to feel you cum, but then watching you cum so hard was really hot.” 

He pauses, then glances away while finding the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A-Also, uh… there was…uh… there was a moment where I thought something kind of weird, but it was really hot to think about?”

“OOooo, tell me,” you smile, shifting closer.

He keeps rubbing the back of his head. “It…um…”

He’s so kriffing cute. “I’m listening, darling, I want to hear about all the things that you like.”

He swallows, still not meeting your eyes. “I uh… I wanted to cum so hard in you that you… got pregnant.”

Your core tenses in excitement. Oh, say it isn’t so. “Oh really?”

“Y-yeah…” he looks back at you, words suddenly spilling out in a rush. “I’d never do that, I know you have, like, that thing that stops you from having babies, but the thought just popped into my head and it was really hot at the time and-”

Ooooh the Gods are good. “I think so, too.”

He blinks. “You do? It’s not weird?”

Your smile is coy. “No, it's something a fair amount of people like. Including me, at times.”

He gulps again - you feel the firm grow firmer. His voice sounds mildly strained. “But you can’t have babies right now.”

“That’s true,” you flirt, a finger tracing along his collar bone, “but we can pretend. You can fill me up so full and imagine what I look like when I have your baby growing in me. A cute little wrecking ball.”

Firmer still. You can feel his heart thumping in his chest. “Babe… thats…”

You smile, leaning in closer to him. “Do you want to try now? Want to try and cum in me so hard that you get me pregnant?”

He reflexively grips your hips, where his hand rests, bucking involuntarily. “Kriff yeah…"

His fingers trail down, pulling your leg up over his hip before moving behind your leg to trace over your slit, groaning as his fingers come away wet and sticky.

“Babe…”

Your breath catches at the need in his eyes. “See how much I like the idea?”

He groans again, bucking up, fingers eagerly returning to push inside your entrance.

You wince at the sudden intrusion. “Gently, love, You all worked me over really well last night.”

He lightens up immediately. He slides one finger inside your slippery slit, thick and firm, curling against your walls, stroking your g-spot delicately. You clench around him, savoring the feeling of his loving care in your pleasure. He groans as he pulls his finger out again.

“FUCK babe… I’m sliding in so easily.” He pumps again, watching your face fastidiously. “Can you… take another?”

“Yes, oh yes.” Your hips buck, begging for more of him inside of you, thoughts running through your head of what you’re about to do. You start to ride his fingers while he moves inside you, meeting each other with each thrust. You hold behind his neck for support, eyes meeting his, begging him not to stop.

That sets something off in him, moving forward to latch his mouth onto where neck meets shoulder. “Kriff, that’s right mesh’la, ride my fingers. Want you so ready to take my cock. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

You whimper out a cry, riding his fingers as he pumps them into you. “Can’t wait to feel you fill me…”

He involuntarily bucks against your leg. “Fuck I’m going to cum so far into you. Can’t wait to fill you up till you’re leaking, make sure it takes.”

Fuck it’s so hot to hear him say that. “O-One more, Wrecker, I c-can take another.”

He slides in a third finger, finally giving you the same girth as he is, sliding himself down to suck pulses into your clit. 

“WRECker…” Your eyes fall back into your head, your head falls back between your propped arms, and you fuck along him for all your worth, riding the wave of the pleasure cresting from his pulses. 

“Oh babe I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

“That’s right babe, cum for me, cum for me real good.” 

You feel yourself start to seize, riding his tongue as he pushes you through, eagerly licking up everything you’re releasing like its frickin’ candy.

You’re left panting - but still craving him. You whine a bit, bucking as he pulls his fingers away. You want so much more. You want what he said he’d give you.

Wrecker starts running your slick on his fingers over his hard length, already weeping precum. He bites back a groan, looking down at you with need, with… worry? Aww, the darling is checking in. Your heart swells.

“Babe, can I…”

You reach up to cup his cheek.“Yes, please yes. But kiss me when you push in? I’m afraid I’ll moan too loud…”

He kisses you deeply, sliding in so gently, both of you swallowing the other’s groans. HIs head falls to your chest as he breathes through the moment. 

“So kriffing tight. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

“It's cause I want your cum, babe. I want it so bad.”

He groans, hips stuttering into yours, making you gasp, eyes rolling back.

“Can’t wait to give it to you,” he says, slowly starting to fuck into you. He puts his head to yours, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “Fill you up so good with my cum. Want to get you so big for me, kiss your belly, talk to our strong baby while you bounce on my cock. Tell them how beautiful their mom is.”

“Oh Wrecker…”Your voice comes out a moan, unable to think around his giant cock fucking into you.

His head falls to your shoulder, hips moving faster. “NNNnn I’m gonna cum, mesh’la. You ready for me? You ready for me to fill you up?”

You can barely form a thought, but the words just flow out of you. “Yes Wrecker, please. Please. Pump your cum inside me, honey, I want it so bad.”

He grips under your shoulder, holds your thigh against his hip, driving his full length inside your throbbing hole. “KRIFF. Take it then. Take it all. Nnn... NNN.”

He growls a groan as his hips stutter, releasing his seed what seems like an unnatural amount of times deep inside you, using his leverage to push in as far as he can.

He doesn’t stop, even as you feel him start to soften.

He groans. “Fuck, babe. FUCK. I want to keep going so bad, I don’t want to stop I’m still so horny.” 

You’re so on fire with need that you don’t skip a beat.“Then come here, big boy, and let me help you with that.”

He moves up the bed, offering you his slowly softening cock. Karking hell, you’re so hungry and desperate for more, you immediately take him as far as you can with one swift move. He cries out a swear - he’s so sensitive, but he wants it so bad, SO BAD. He fucks your mouth gently, watching his cock disappear down your throat. 

“Fuck, babe. That’s it. Just like that, getting me so hard again. I wanna fill you up more. So much more. Gonna make you cum this time too, so you strangle all my cum out of my cock, fill you up so good.”

You look up at him, watching him take you in, his eyes transfixed where your lips wrap around his cock.

“NNnnn could cum down your throat, fill you up from both ends,” he murmurs, almost to himself. You moan around him at the thought, making his hips stutter with a groan. “You’d like that, huh?”

You purposefully moan a yes, smirking internally as his eyes roll back.

“B-But I wanna make you cum too, feel you cum around my cock. Kriff, fuck I need to feel you cum on my cock.” He pulls out and away, clamping around the base for a moment while he breathes. As you sit up, wiping spit from your mouth, he picks you up and places you so your head is towards the other end of the bed, hooking your legs up with his elbows. He pushes into you hungrily, ravenous to feel you around him again, moaning along with your feverish cry. He starts to slowly fuck into you.

“WRECKer! Oh honey you feel so good.” You bring your hand down to play with your clit. “Wanna cum. Wanna cum while you’re fucking a baby into me.”

His hips speed up, spurred on by your rapturous cries. “That’s right mesh’la. Kriff. Milk me dry. Gonna be so full I put TWO babies in there. Gonna see you get so big. So big cause of me…”

Stars, you can FEEL how aroused he is, he’s so hard, so needy in his thrusts. “I’m so close, Wrecker, I’m so close. Fill me up while I cum for you. Give it to me, please.”

“Whatever you want, babe, anything you want.” His voice is desperate, his eyes feverish with need and arousal. “Fuck I’m gonna cum again. Take it all. Cum for me while you take it all. Kriff, kriff, KRIFF.”

You swear he pushes in so far he’s in your cervix. You feel each spurt of his spend coat your walls, fill your womb, leaving you sated and full, wishing, on some level, that this was real.

Wrecker falls to one elbow, panting, still propping himself up so as not to crush you, still shivering every few seconds as his orgasm racks him anew.

“B…Babe… that was… that was so…”

You put your head to his, your hand to his cheek, panting from the intensity of your orgasm. You feel your breath slow, leaning in and kissing him slowly, sensually, bringing him down on top of you. Your hands rove over his bald head, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips. You pull back after a moment, laying back to look up at him while your fingers continue along his scar.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” He sighs in relief, head dropping to your shoulder as you giggle. “I’m gonna pull out, ok?”

“Ok.” You gasp a little as he gently pulls out, leaving you emptier than you were - but not by much. He turns towards the bathroom, presumably to get a towel - you gently grab his hand before he can.

“Wait. Don’t you want to see how full I am first?” You can’t help the mischievous smile dancing across your face.

He looks back at you, confused.

“Look,” you smile, laying back along the sheets, spreading your legs, hand trailing down to your lower lips - and parting them.

His widening eyes tell you he’s watching his seed brimming at your entrance, slowly trickling out of you. You clench, partly to emphasize the flow, partly because its so hot, watching him watch you like this.

He gulps, eyes glued to your pussy. “Babe, can I… do somethin’?”

“Yes,” you lilt, pulling your fingers away from your entrance.

He slides his thumb carefully over your slit, gathering some of the slick between your thighs. Eyes alight, he leans over you - and holds his thumb up to your lips. 

You smile at him, propping yourself up on your elbows, and without taking your eyes from his, you take his thumb into your mouth, tasting your combined juices, sucking him clean.

“You’re gonna get me hard again,” he groans, almost reluctantly.

You release his thumb with a smile.

“Good,” you purr, nuzzling against his hand, “because I think you promised to cum down my throat next? ‘Fill me up from both sides’?”

You see the shiver run through him.

“Kriff, babe. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans - right before climbing back on to his bed. 

__________________________________________________________________________

A half hour later finds Wrecker between your thighs with a damp cloth, cleaning up the substantial mess he’s made after cumming twice more. He can’t bring himself to look, he really shouldn’t look, he’ll just get going again - and hes not sure he could take another round before his brothers come back, and they’d been nice enough to leave them alone this long. There would be - he shivers - more chances another time.

Besides, he wanted to hold you after that. 

Throwing the rag toward the end of his bed, he finds you snuggling extra close into his chest, filling him with warmth as he wraps his arms around you. Yeah, this was what he wanted.

“Mmmmm… that was everything.” You look up at him. “How are you, babe? How did you like that?”

“Great,” he grins - before his face falls into uncertainty. “Though I, uh, didn’t expect that to happen, you know…”

“I know, but I just loved the idea soooo much…” you nuzzle against his nose, his grin returning. Kriff, you made him feel like a cadet again, getting his first detonator. “Did that feel like what you needed?”

“Uh…” he thinks for a moment, trying to remember where he started. “Yeah… I think I… I just wanted to know you weren’t mad, or hurt or… somethin’ else. I liked feeling… like feeling close to you.” He (very) lightly squeezes you. “I like this.”

“Then lets do this if we try something intense like we did last night. I’ll make sure to come be close to you, and tell you how happy I am. Yes?”

He kisses the top of your head, feeling a knot unclench in his chest. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”

He’s silent for a moment, taking it all in, thinking about last night, this morning, just now… comparing it to every other moment of comfort in his life. Were there any?

He looks down to where you’re snuggled against him. “Babe?”

He can feel your answering hum through his chest. “Hm?”

“Thanks… for taking care of me.”

You look up at him with those beautiful eyes and beautiful smile, the greatest gifts of all.

“Of course, honey,” you say quietly, kissing his chin. “It’s my pleasure.”

________________________________________________________________________

“Do you ever think about it? Having kids?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere - you had spent the time waiting for the squad cuddling and talking about what other things you wanted to try together or with the others, making sure to listen for his wants and needs. A comfortable silence followed, each of you breathing in the other, until…

“Sometimes. Not a lot, since there’s no call for it right now, but I’ve thought about it.” You look up at him. “Why? Have you?”

“W’ll. Not, uh… not til now. But I… I really liked the idea of having a kid with you.” He won’t meet your eyes, he’s so bashful. Such a sweetheart. “Never thought of anything other than hanging with my brothers, but the thought was kinda… I dunno, nice.”

You smile up at him and kiss his nose, about to answer - and are suddenly overtaken by a huge yawn, your body relaxing into the warmth surrounding you. 

He grins. “Tired, huh?”

You grimace in embarrassment as you finish your yawn. “Mmm… yes. You aren’t?”

“Naw, too hungry. You go ahead and sleep, mesh’la.” He strokes your head and kisses your crown. “I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t help but smile into his chest, enjoying the warmth blooming in yours, letting your heavy eyelids close. “Wrecker…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy.” You breathe him in and sigh out relief.

His hands pause midstroke, but his body stays relaxed.

“... me too, babe.” You can hear the beaming smile in his voice. “I’m really happy too.” He continues his stroking, gentle fingers lulling you to sleep…

-until the door slides open.

“Are you two done?”

Crosshair’s slithery voice is as sardonic as ever. You smirk, your eyes staying closed.

You feel a shift next to you as Wrecker twists to whisper over his shoulder. “Shhhh - yup. Feelin’ much better.”

“Good.” Tech’s voice is, of course, matter of fact, even while quiet. “We have brought food. There is a fair amount-”

“AlRIGHT.” Wrecker whispers in joy, jumps up out of bed, doubles back to pull the blankets over you and kiss you on the head, making you giggle, then heads to the table. “I’m STARVING!”

Hunter’s whisper is sharp. “You di’kut, put on some clothes before you eat.”

You slip off into sleep with a smile, listening to your boys doing what they do best, your heart full of gratitude for every single one.

Yours to care for, as long as you have them.

__________________________________________________________________________

Earlier - The Mess Hall

“So where’s your medic?”

The four batchers look to the end of their table - where two clones with freshly painted armor stand, sneering. 

Tech adjusts his goggles, looking them up and down. “Tending to one of our teammates. He was not feeling well this morning, potentially due to our inoculations yesterday.”

“Why does it matter?” Crosshair’s hiss is sharp, but not quite dangerous. Yet.

The two smirk at each other before looking back to them. 

“Does she happen to be doing that on her back?” asks the one on the left with a mean grin.

All of their heads whip around, Crosshair, Tech, and Hunter tensed. Hunter’s eyes flash in warning. “Care to say that again, trooper?”

The left chuckles. “I think you heard me.”

The right elbows the left, indicating the group with his head. “Probably is. Probably needs it, if she was sniffing around our boys yesterday.” He looks back to the seething squad. “What's the matter? Your squad can’t keep one woman satisfied?”

“That’s enough.”

Echo stands where he is, staring down the other two. In this moment, the others can see his power shine through - this man was an ARC trooper, decorated for his many exemplary missions, a survivor from behind enemy lines, and back out in the field for brothers and Republic. 

And he was irritated.

“I don’t know why you weren’t taught any manners back on Kamino. Maybe you were too distracted by your own insecurities that day.”

The two clones stiffen, slowly bristling- but Echo isn’t done.

“It doesn’t kriffing matter what she does in her private life,” he continues, eyes daring them to interrupt him. “What matters is she’s a trooper, like all of us. She puts her life on the line; fights the same battles we do, without enhanced abilities. She shows up, she works hard, and she cares for a bunch of clones like us, treats us like people,” He punches the table for emphasis, making the regs jump into a defensive stance, “so what else do you really need to know about her?”

The two regs stand, stunned, glancing at each other to think of a comeback- but there isn’t one.

“We all care about her as a member of our squad- so if you’re here to cause her trouble, then we have a problem. Now.” Echo leans forward, hand on the table, his voice getting very low.  “Is there something else you would like to say to us, vode?”

“Oh I think they’ve said enough.” Squad and regs turn to see Captain Case, helmet on, arms crossed. The two reg troopers jump to attention. 

“Mel. Felbourn. Not really showing our battalion in the best light, are ya? I think you owe their medic an apology.” His voice sounds dangerous through the vocoder. “After you finish scrubbing all the public freshers on the ship. Top. To. Bottom.”

“Sir yes sir!” The regs say in unison, stiff as boards.

“Dismissed,” the Captain waves, the two clones hurrying off and away with nary a mumble.

Hunter sits back at the table, turning to face Case. He looks over the Captain with a suspicious gratitude. “You didn’t need to do that.”

They can hear the Captain’s smirk. “I did, actually. They’re my men- and if no one has ‘taught them manners’, well, I’d better start now.”

He takes off his helmet and tucks it under his arm, shaking out his hair a little. “So, did I hear your medic isn’t feeling well?”

“No,” Tech corrects, of course. “Our demolition’s expert was not feeling well, so naturally our medic stayed behind to monitor any potential complications.”

Captain Case winces. “Ah, sorry to hear that. Though I’m not surprised, those inoculations are still new enough. Never know the side effects-”

“Why did you step in?” Crosshair interrupts, voice low and suspicious, glaring over at the reg Captain. “If you’re expecting to get to her through us, you’re wrong.”

Case blinks a few times, then chuckles. “Is that what you think that was?” He shakes his head, saying almost to himself. “You’ve all been hanging around the wrong vode.” 

He looks back up at them, meeting all of their eyes. “Rex and Cody speak highly of you boys, and they don’t do that lightly. Anyone who has earned their respect… well, is definitely worthy of mine.”

He turns to leave. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Just know…” he flashes a cheeky grin at them, making eye contact with Hunter. “A girl like that? Make sure to take good care of her.”

Hunter smirks. He supposes he likes this reg after all. 

“You can count on it.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

What up tag list?

If you asked to be tagged, and you don't see yourself, you may have changed your username and I don't have the new one. Please let me know if that's the case!

@ladykatakuri @ben-is-a-hoe @klay97 @kaitou2417 @dumfanting @kuromisheart @koifish08 @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @badbatch-simp24 @pointy-sharp @rainytears2 @gabile18 @nedxwynert @chopper-witch @nexxxxxxxxx @nightscissor @corona-one @babypandasugar22 @pumpkinkpatch @oohyesplease @princessclaire2 @just-a-shit-ton-of-trama @badbatch-simp24 @foreverhockeytrash @unholy-t-rin-ity @reeny26 @smurderous @xxeiraxx @discarded-beskar @just-an-anxious-ball-of-flesh @mybigfatspoonielife @whore4rex @andyoufollowyourheart @lokigirlszendaya @captain-splock-you @darkangel4121

@gluwu @stormweather99 @redpool @mysanityleaving @alwayssnivellus @chickentenderx @scioness-7 @moniicarlo @nekotaetae @cjoftheriver @ladykagewaki @charlie-boo @blueink-bluesoul  @vithepotato @aconstructofamind

[forever-rogue]

Prompt list 2: 173 and 194 with Oberyn please?! If you’re still doing them? -💫✨🌈 ps. Congratulations on your follower milestone! U deserve everything baby

Okay, soooo, perhaps this is me imagining this as Sunshine and Oberyn from INO. But totally not necessary!

Enjoy!

Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader ; warnings: soft smut (18+ Only)

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You couldn’t help but stare across the lush gardens as you spotted Oberyn in the distance. He was taking a turn about the palace with one of his many advisors going over one thing or another, in deep conversation as his brow furrowed in concentration. He still managed to look better than anyone should have been allowed to. He was wearing robes of deep orange and gold today, barely tied at the waist, showing off his immaculate golden torso. His hair, now a mess of soft curls, was chocolate and golden under the warm sun, and suddenly you left much more flushed than before. 

You might have the privilege of calling him your husband, but he still managed to stun you in so many ways. Oberyn must have felt something, as he quickly lifted his gaze and found your eyes with his. A small smile tugged on his features as you offered up your own saccharine smile followed by a wave. Shooting you a cheeky wink, which left you hot and bothered more than anything, he turned back to conversation, as if he hadn’t just been shamelessly watching you. It wasn’t just a wink, you’d learned early on into your marriage, it was a promise of so much more. The heat was already pooling low in your belly as you turned back to the flowers you’d been tending to.

“Lady Martell?” you turned to find your handmaiden, Asha, watching you with an intent gaze, “is everything alright? You look quite...flushed. Shall I fetch you some water?”

“Please,” you gave the young girl a smile as she nodded and got ready to head to the kitchens. Her sweet innocence was enough to make you chuckle slightly, “I suddenly feel quite...parched.”

As you plucked and pruned the blossoms, you couldn’t help but think of all the sweet words and stolen kisses that had been exchanged between the two of you here. The gardens, one of your favorite places in the whole of Dorne, serving as a refuge for both of you needed a little break from the real world. 

It was where he had first professed his love to you. Where you had first told him you loved him too. Where he had first gently taken your face in his large hands, and pressed his lips to yours and kissed you until you felt like lovestruck teenagers. So many firsts had taken place in his sacred place, and it would always hold a special place in your heart. 

Just like your love had blossomed and flourished in this garden, so were your blooms and flowers, a beautiful symbol of your relationship with the prince. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hello, my Prince,” you grinned when Oberyn walked through the door of your shared bedchambers, a tired but happy grin on his face when he spied you on the bed, wearing nothing but sheer undergarments, “I’m so happy you’re finally ready to retire for the day.”

“My Queen,” his eyes, soft and honeyed in the soft glow of the candlelight, drank you as he seemed to perk up. You patted the space on the bed next to you, holding your arms out to him, “I would have retired to your arms much sooner, had I been given a chance. Unfortunately, it seems that duties sometimes must be attended to.”

“Of course, everyone wants a piece of the prince,” reaching for the lapels of his robe as you pulled him for a kiss. He smiled against your lips, easily melting into your touch as you dragged him down to lay on the soft covers, “luckily you’re all mine. And you know, I will always wait for you, my love.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” a contented sigh escaped his lips as he looked up at you from the soft, fluffy pillows. You ran a hand through his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp, just like he always enjoyed and he practically keened into your touch, “I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered back to him, “you are everything, my prince, and deserve the world. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I have done a lot of things in my life, some good, some great, and terrible,” he mused as you watched him closely, tracing a finger over his features before stopping at his lips, “but the best, by far, is getting to call you my wife.”

“Oberyn,” your heart felt warm, like it was about to burst with butterflies, “you are a poet in every sense of the word, but you mustn’t flatter me. I’m already your wife.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, sunshine,” he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “you have me - heart and soul.”

“As you have me,” you promised him, “always and forever - my moon and stars.”

“Sunshine-”

“For once in your life, Oberyn Martell, please be quiet and let me take care of you - let me love you,” you quickly silenced him with a kiss, swallowing up any words he had, “lay back and relax and be a good boy.”

"And who am I to oppose my wife - my queen?" he crossed his arms and tucked them behind his head as he watched you with a grin, "as you wish, sunshine."

"Firstly," your hands went to the singular button holding together his robe and unfastened it before traveling to his shoulders as you started to push it off. He sat up for a moment to help you, and soon the orange cloth was in a pile on the floor, "you were wearing too many clothes. This is much better."

Swinging a leg over his hip, you effortlessly straddled his waist, causing him to a small, pleasured sound of surprise. You took one of each of his hands in yours before bringing them to your lips and kissing each palm in turn. When you were done, you settled them on your waist as you pulled off your sheer top, leaving you as bare as him.

His grip on your waist sent sparks throughout your whole body, and you couldn't help but arch into his touch. 

Leaning down, you kissed him softly, gently, starting at his lips before trailing kisses along his jaw and down his glorious neck. 

"I love you so much," you whispered against his golden skin, kissing along shoulders and collarbones, making sure every part of his torso received some love. You traced along each silvery scar and mark, every freckle and sunspot, before bestowing them with a kiss. You loved every part of him - every last little bit - and you wanted him to know that. 

"Sunshine…" he whispered in your ear as you nuzzled against him, his own hands finding your backside and giving it a good squeeze. You moaned lightly, wiggling your own hips against his, as you felt his hardness against your already wet folds.

"Shhh," you raked your nails along the expanse of his broad chest, "let me love you - fully and completely."

He didn't argue further or so much as make a sound as you kissed down chest and stomach, stopping only when you got to the waistband of his trousers. Taking a moment to kiss his hips, you swiftly pulled down the trousers and let them join the pile on the floor. It was a quick job for you as you pulled down your own sheer bottoms and sent them spilling off the bed.

You could feel his warm, gentle gaze take you in and admire your form - it was nothing to make you feel self conscious or uncomfortable, but a look of reverence and adoration. 

"You are so beautiful," his voice was gentle as his hands skimmed your sides, leaving fire in their wake, "perfection, more so than any god."

"Gold and honey drop from your mouth my prince," you reached for his hard, weeping cock, running it through your folds before slowly sinking down on him. No matter how many times you'd had him, he still managed to stretch you deliciously, "Oberyn."

"You are so perfect," he whispered as you laid against him, wanting to feel as much of his skin on yours as possible, "feel so perfect."

"Mhmm," you murmured as kissed his back and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He slowly rocked into you, matching the languid movement of your hips as he had you. 

You liked evenings like this, when it was only you and Oberyn, and the world ceased to exist, even if only for a little bit. There was no rush, no urgency to get anywhere, and it was easy to get lost in the pleasure of him - every touch, every feel, every sound. 

Your lips barely parted as you made love, swallowing up each other’s moans as your hands roamed the expanse of your bodies. You were quite sure you could feel the love radiating from him and onto you as he smiled against your lips. 

"I've got you, Sunshine," he whispered as he peppered the side of your head in gentle kisses when he left your walls start to clench around him, "you can let go."

His name left your lips in a breathy whisper as you closed your eyes and buried your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulders. The tight coil in your belly snapped and that familiar wash of warmth flooded your veins as your release washed over you. 

His own was close behind as he spelled inside of you, coating your walls with his warm release as a moan of pleasure reached your ears. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, as he held you close and worked you both through your highs. There was no better feeling than being wrapped up in his arms, and if you could choose to never leave them, it would have been an easy decision. 

"Gods, I love you so much," you pulled back and beamed at him, nuzzling your nose with his before kissing again. He nodded in agreement before you slid off and laid on next to him.

"I love you," he pulled back the plush blankets and ushered you under them, following closely behind as he pulled you into his arms, "more than you will ever know." 

"My sweet prince," you snuggled into his chest, resting your head just above his heart and letting the steady beat lull you to sleep, "I love you too. Rest now - everything else can wait."

"You are everything," he promised with a toss to the top of your head as he closed his eyes, "my Sunshine."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula   @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy   @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet

[burning-clutch]

A Garden Variety Ghost

Category: Gen,

Pairings: Jack/Maddie        

Author: @burning-clutch (Team Ghost)

Characters:  Danny, Jazz Maddie, Jack 

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, and drug like effects           

-.-.-.-.-.-

 Ding Dong!

 The doorbell ringing in the Fenton household was always an event for many different reasons. One main one being that Jack Fenton was like an overly excitable guard dog that could actually open doors to launch out into the streets at the wayward delivery personnel. So when a hapless U-ship worker came with a collection of boxes he was met with the Fenton Foamer and a number of prolific apologies from Maddie.

 “So what did you order?” Jazz asked from her spot at the kitchen table, looking up from her book only briefly to eye the cardboard package hoping to discern something from its inconspicuous form.

 Maddie placed the box on the table in front of Jazz while Jack bounced excitedly beside her. “We were checking old references in my old Fenton-Nightingale book and we found a few things detailed we wanted to try out!” he boomed excitedly giving a giddy chuckle as Maddie opened the box.

 “Okay… and that means what for us exactly? Should I stay at a friend's for a week?” Jazz asked nervously peering into the box only to frown when she saw nothing but packets of cushioning.  

 “No no. It’s fine.” Maddie said with a wave of her hand pulling out the air cushions to get to the prize. “We’re just looking into the details of ghost plants.”

 “Yeah! There were a few in here that said they did stuff to ghosts! And the main one was blood blossoms, but they’re practically extinct, and we weren’t able to get those, but we got all these other ones to experiment with! Now we just gotta catch a ghost and shove them onto it!” Jack said, pulling out a small package of seeds.

 “As soon as the plants grow,” Maddie added with a laugh. “I suppose gardening can be fun too,” she mused. “Come on hun, let’s set up a Fenton Grow-op”

 “You know how that sounds right?” Jazz sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Seriously it sounds like you guys are getting into illegal ghost drugs or something…”

 The Fenton parents exchanged a look before shrugging. “Well if it only affects ghosts it’ll be fine.” Maddie waved off flippantly.

 “Yeah Jazzy! It’ll give us a good insight into how they think then! If they think at all!” Jack added, his grin threatening to split his face.

 “So you’re going to see if ghosts can trip out?” Jazz asked incredulously.

 “For science!” Jack boomed, seeming to disregard his daughter's look of disbelief.

 “Well not just that, we don’t really know the full effects these may or may not have. There are plants that attract, repel hurt and soothe ghosts.” Maddie explained gently taking the seeds that Jack was threatening to take off with. “Come on sweetie, let’s get these planted.” Maddie urged her husband to go down to the lab.

 Jazz sighed before sending off a quick text to Danny, to avoid the lab for the next few weeks as much as possible.

 Of course, that only worked for so long before Danny was told to clean the lab or else his parents would retaliate by taking away his computer for a week... And with the new Doomed update on its way it was a risk, he was willing to take.

 He crept down into the lab cautiously, hovering in the doorway for a moment before making note of the potentially dangerous flora that was innocently hanging out beneath a plexiglass barrier and a bright sun lamp.

 He double checked the mask on his face, a gas mask he had found in the garage, it had Duel Jack Fenton faces on either side of the filters but if it worked he would suffer from the embarrassment of wearing this stupid thing for a few hours.

 If any of those plants were half as potent as the Blood Blossoms were he would be in trouble if even the pollen were to hit his skin… let alone if he were to inhale something like that…

 With a shudder, he took a hesitant step into the preverbal lion’s den. “Why do both Sam and Tuck have to be busy today…” he groaned to himself as he finally landed on the lab’s floor.

 He crinkled up his nose behind the mask and moved along the wall of the lab, always keeping his eyes on the plants as if they were going to come to life any second and attack him. Though in this household you never know…

 When he finally made it to the shelf he pulled down a box of disposable nitrile gloves and snapped on a pair. Next, he reached for a pair of goggles, popping those onto his eyes. "Right," he said aloud to himself, now as protected as he was going to get without opting to wear a hazmat suit, which he hated the feel off on his human skin.

 He stared at the plants across the lab a moment before deciding it would be best to start there first. Deal with the area most in danger then work outward.

 He frowned in concentration as he began to clean the plexiglass. this was going well so far, good… this will work go-

 "Danny boy!" Jack boomed as he entered the lab causing the teen to jolt in surprise. The action caused his arm that was holding the squeegee to be thrown upwards popping the sealed box open and releasing some sort of purple pollen from the container.

 Danny winced seeing that, infinitely thankful for the mask he had on.

 "Hey, you found the Fenton anti Ecto Gas mask!" Jack boomed, pulling the device free with a wide grin. "I've been looking everywhere for this baby! Now we can have taco nights again! Your mother refused to make them, cuz -a what happens at night after… well, you know how it goes'' He chuckled, giving his son a slap on the back in gratitude.

 Danny just stared wide eyed at his father, there were so many reasons why he didn't need to know about his father's nighttime emissions, but moreover, he had just stolen the gasmask! the one thing that was stopping the… the…

 "You're doing great Dann-o Just remember the gear isn't to play around with… Now I gotta show Maddie this babyˋs back!” Jack boomed leaving his glassy eyed son to stare off into the void, a dopey smile crossing his face.

 What was he so worried about again? Danny blinked slowly as he stared down at the purple pollen. Right that… but why? This was relaxing… it was as if everything just melted away into the background. The scent from the pollen was intoxicating…

 Wait… He blinked his eyes rapidly a few times to clear them. "What?" he stared down at the floor again. That had felt incredibly relaxing! and he felt rejuvenated and energized now!

 He resolved then to figure out what plant it was that did that. it was like a ghostly energy drink! Maybe his parents had flubbed up again like with the ecto-dejecto? He smiled and looked towards the first flower that he could suspect the purple pollen came from.

 The flower looked like some sort of purple pinkie sunflower, with a red tinted centre. Carefully Danny lifted the glass and poked the greenish leaves, before poking the centre of the plant. "Hm…." he stared at it blankly for a moment.

 "Nope, nothing…" He mused this flower was a dud it seemed.

 Moving on he found something that looked like a deep purple tulip, with blood red leaves. He found himself enraptured with this one even before he opened the glass. it was beautiful and he couldn't think of anything more lovely….

 He had to have it.. it was… calling him…

 without even thinking he shifted into ghost mode and phased his hand through to pluck the delicate flower from its stem. He stared at it perplexed a moment before stuffing his face into the plant's open petals, breathing deep and savouring its sweet scent.

 He felt a bit like a cat when he was finally snapped out of his bliss and found himself rubbing his face all over the petals sticky bits of pollen now covered him.

 He wrinkled his nose as he pulled off the sap like pollen onto his glove. It wasn't burning or hurting him so that was something at least… Something that Sam had once told him about plants sparked into his mind. Something about plants attracting certain things for pollinators?

 Great, he was reduced to a but brain now… Though it would make sense if these things were probably grown in the ghost zone before having their seeds dispersed through the human realm

 He glared at the remainder of what once was the tulip, a moment vaporizing the flower pulp to ash in revenge for his idiocy before moving on to the next one.

 Curious now, he opened up the next plant in the line of the trays. This one was a large white flower with a lime green innard and as soon as the teen stuck his head in to examine it he recoiled in disgust.

 It smelled awful! "Nope!" he shut the lid in such a hurry on that one.

 Next to that was a ball shaped cluster of flowers that just seemed to make him angry more than anything. He shook his head and quickly moved on from that.

 On and on he went examining the various plants, with varying degrees of nothing or something with such a small change that he couldn't even really decide if it was really the plant or not.

 it was when he came back around to the mushrooms that his parents were growing that things got a little more… Recreational…

 When he opened up the container to poke at a weird curling mushroom it exploded it's white and blue spores at him.

 Danny grinned brightly a second later and found the world looked as if it suddenly had taken on a deeper saturation, and lights had large star trails following them.

 including the ghostly glow that was on his body… That was simply fun to watch. how his fingers curled and flexed, then turned to mist and back to solid again. Why was this so fun? And since when did the lines in the floor turn to water? how did his parents get them to ripple like that?

 Danny poked the floor with a toe and giggled as he can see the soundwaves from the clack, incredibly loud on the floor, ripple out in the pond that became of the metal. The portal to the ghost zone spinning became still the longer Danny stared at it, it was lucid and wondrous and well… trippy.

 Danny hardly noticed when a grumbling Maddie entered the basement lab holding the infernal Gasmask. The last thing she needed right now was her husband's- "Wh-What's...?" She trailed off, blinking in confusion as she stared at Phantom.

 The ghost was logrolling, though staying perfectly still otherwise in the air, all the while staring at the ghost portal.  

 While the huntress's first instinct was to toss a net at the infernal ghost to catch him, she hesitated upon noticing some of the flowers she had been cultivating had been messed with.

 Well, then this was a potential scientific breakthrough that she probably won't get another chance to have… A lucid highly human like, and sapient ghost had taken some of her plants for seemingly recreational purposes….

 “Phantom. Why are you here?” Maddie asked in the most authoritative voice she could muster with the smirk pulling at her lips. the Famed and controversial hero, Phantom. high as a kite and spinning madly at the ghost portal like he was trying to find an end to the endless swirls.

 The ghost startled at her voice stealing his endless spinning to stare at her upside down. The ghost's pupils were glowing brightly, and the iris had grown wide enough to be seen within the glowing orbs.

 "Mom!" he gasped out, mouth falling open in his shock, as he blinked his wide eyes, and clicked his green tinted tongue as if he'd suddenly tasted something utterly foul.

 Maddie raised an eyebrow at the comment. There wouldn't be any way Phantom would or should remember his human life to any capacity… It was most likely a result of whatever plant the creature had gotten into… Still…

 She figured she could use it to her advantage.

 Without disputing or reprimanding the ghost for his claim she simply moved onto more important matters."What on earth did you get into?"

 Phantom stilled at that, he stopped his movements and did his best imitation of a statue, somehow, incredibly, it still had some sense that forced him to keep up a compulsion that made it look like he was breathing.

 "I- um… I," he stammered staring at her with wide wild eyes. "I'm sorry Mom! I wanted to tell you!" He called, his eyes were starting to water now.

 How did she find out?! Did she see him transform? Actually, when did he transform? Why was everything moving? How… How did she…

 Maddie tilted her head watching the ghost curiously. He did remember his mother than to some degree it seems…Was he still around only because he was looking to confess to his family?

 Actually, now that she was able to see him up close… He really looked like a child… She took a couple of steps forward towards the ghost, who sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve.

 Despite herself, she asked him "Is that the only reason you're still here? because you never got to tell your family you'd died?" What a horrible thought? A child taken and killed, the parents and family left behind not knowing what happened to him.

 “Not exactly… I mean I always wanted to tell you guys... But I just… There were so many ghosts attacking… Then you were saying Phantom was no good… And I tried to be as good as I can!” he sniffed. He was very much not in the right headspace for this to be happening right now…

 Maddie seemed to shift and shimmer stretch and bend. The teen suddenly found himself tunnelling in on the jumpsuit Maddie was wearing. The teal colour that bled into the black accents. The smooth rubberized feel and slight crinkling as she moved and shifted. It squeaks…. He could just barely make out the zipper under her neck tucked into the collar jostling slightly as she breathes. He remembered being held as a kid and staring up at that zipper… she would cradle him on his back and he would stare up at it and…

 “Phantom what-” Maddie never got to finish as the ghost slammed into her. He curled around her. like a dog jumping into her arms. His ghostly tail wrapped around her arm and around her waist, as he looked up at her with bright green eyes, and overly enlarged pupils.

 “I- I’m so sorry mum…” Danny sniffled out before burying his face in her shoulder tightly squeezing her as he sobs.

 Maddie was trapped by the ghost now, unable to move her arms from the hug, or legs without tripping herself up in his tail. She stares incredulously down at the white mop of hair that was just under her nose… so lifelike and soft, like real human hair…

 Though now that she was right up to him like this, she noticed other oddities too. The texture of his suit and the skin that she could see from his face was incredibly detailed. He had freckles even! She could see every individual hair on his head unlike other ghosts that had more of a blanket effect, whispy and fuzzy but not really hair…

 The thing that really drew her eye, however, was the jumpsuit. Or more specifically the clasp at the back of the ghost's collar… An emblazoned F a distinct design that she knew all too well. One she herself helped Jack to design… This was undoubtedly at one time a proper Fenton jumpsuit…

 Which means this child… this child who was no older than Danny, he was probably one of his friends! In a borrowed jumpsuit no less! But if someone had borrowed a suit and got killed in it somehow surely she’d have noticed…

 The ghost shifted allowing her to move and giving her freedom of her one arm. His core seemed to buzz in his chest as he held her ever tightly. “This is .. nice… I … was so worried about how you’d take this all…. I… I was stupid…” he shuddered as he spoke each word coming out with rapid and haggard breaths.

 “It’s fine... “ Maddie offered, though her mind was a million miles west as she pondered over the clasps. She needed answers… Reaching over into the plants she pulled out something that looked like a queen's Ann’s lace but with bright blue flowers.

 She stuffed Phantom's nose in the flower and watched with mild relief as the ghost’s eyelids drooped and closed. She sighed again as his tail loosened up around her and she slumped against her. “Well, at least I know that one works” She mused aloud.

 Not even a second later Phantom sighs deeply and a bright ring flared at his waist, causing Maddie to yelp and drop the ghost on the ground thinking an attack was building.

 Instead, she was mildly perplexed as it continued to wash over Phantom, bathing the ghost in light as he changed. Everywhere the light washed over, the colours of the ghost seemed to invert until it passed over his head.

 “D-Danny?” Maddie whispered out in surprise. She was thinking of all the experiments she could run but now… her mind stalled as she stared down at the prone form of her son. What happened to make him like this? Was it even really her son or was phantom somehow still awake enough to pull a trick like this? Making her see her Danny instead of…

 Instead of Danny Phantom.

 “Oh-Oh God…” Maddie gasped and slid next to her son, scooping him up into her lap.

 When Danny next woke up it was to a bleary bliss that he wasn’t quite too sure what to make of. “Mum?” He mumbled out as he blinked his glassy blue eyes up at her. Why was his head so fuzzy? It was like he was underwater... “You cryin’?” He asked softly before his eyes widened and he jolted. His core fluttering in his chest. Had something hurt her?

 “It’s okay baby, I know you were so scared before but you don’t have to be any longer… I know… I know I’ve made some terrible mistakes against Phantom… against you… but I promise I’ll do what I can to make you feel safe here…” She sniffed and curled her form around his burying her face into his shoulder.

 Danny’s muddied thoughts spun out to a halt as his memories caught up with him. That’s right! She knew! she knew! And apparently accepted him!

 “Y-You have no idea how much that means to me…” He sniffed too, tucking his chin over her shoulder. And squeezing her tightly just as he had only an hour earlier as Phantom. “I love you so much…”

 “I know hun… I love you too… and I promise I’ll make this up to you any way I can.” She responded in kind. Tomorrow she’ll look into the plants that can help to cure her son, but for right now? She would be content to offer the love and comfort they both so dearly craved.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Complete

 Word count: 3281

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23457526

[egg2k16]

40 Fanfic Q’s Answered

the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!

5. Share one of your strengths.

I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was late at night, when he started to cry.

He didn't want to cry, but he did.

It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?

He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.

He stops crying. He starts crying again.

This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.

He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.

(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”

“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”

“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”

“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”

“It’s midnight. What about you?”

“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”

“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”

“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”

“You’ll see.”

(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr​ , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan​ , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.

Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”

YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.

“Can you show up?”

HOW SO?

“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”

I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.

He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.

“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.

I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.

“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.

(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Never

25. What do you look for in a beta?

I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin​ ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan​ ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice​ ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo​ ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;

30. Do you accept prompts?

Sure!

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!

32. How do you feel about smut?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

33. How do you feel about crack?

Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Probably not, I don’t like sad things!

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!

My friends are the realest :’)

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)

Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.

[nostallgias]

        ☆ . * (  kristine  froseth,  cis  female,  she  /  her  )  hey,  look  !!   indigo  ‘indie’  dahl  aka  @nostalgias  is  online  and  ready  to  write  another  anonymous  post  on  the  broken  hearts  club.  rumor  has  it  they’re  here  because  she  ran  away  from  her  hometown  to  escape  her  family  and  ex  lover.  out  in  the  real  world  she  is  a  musician  /  bartender.  the  22  year  old  is  known  for  being  flighty  &  impetuous  but  make  up  for  it  by  being  vivacious  &  determined.  if  they  were  to  describe  themselves  they’d  say  they’re  chipped  nail  polish,  lipstick  stains  on  cigarettes,  driving  with  the  window  down  and  their  favorite  song  is  gold  dust  woman  by  fleetwood  mac.

        hello  everyone,  i’m  so  happy  2  b  in  this  rp   !!!   my  name  is  diana,  i’m  twenty  yrs  old,  a  libra,  and  reside  in  the  est  timezone.  some  quick  facts  abt  me  ...  i  am  a  girl  group  stan  and  lana  del  rey  enthusiast.  i  also  luv  cats.  anyway,  enough  abt  me,  u  can  learn  abt  my  muse  indigo  under  the  cut   !!!   my  discord  is   missing blackpink hours#5522  so  pls  hit  me  up  there  or  in  the  im’s  for  plots   !!   i  cannot  wait  to  get  started  <3   tw:  briefly  mentions  alcoholism  &  drugs

☆ . *   𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔    !

full  name :  indigo  dahl

nickname(s)  :  indie

zodiac  :  sagittarius  sun,  gemini  moon   (  click  )

sexuality  :  bisexual

alignment  :  chaotic  good

pinterest  :  click

☆ . *   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅    !

indie  grew  up  in  a  small  town  where  everyone  knows  everyone.  she  was  restless  and  curious,  but  there  wasn’t  much  to  do  in  a  town  that  small

her  parents  were  really  big  on  music,  so  there  was  always  something  playing  in  the  household.  it’s  safe  to  say  music  took  over  her  life.  she  started  to  learn  guitar,  then  later  bass

but  sadly  her  dad  left  them  when  she  was  still  young.  she  wanted  him  to  take  her  with  him,  so  she  could  finally  get  out  of  that  stupid  town,  but  he  left  her  with  her  mother  and  never  looked  back  :/

indie  and  her  mom  didn’t  get  along  too  well.  she  basically  planned  indie’s  entire  life  out,  down  to  who  she  should  marry.  after  her  father  left  them,  her  mom  wasn’t  rly  able  to  cope  with  it  too  well  and  she  kinda  turned  to  drinking,  and  the  music  that  was  always  playing  stopped  :(

indie  spent  her  middle  and  high  school  years  taking  care  of  her  mom,  who  was  too  drunk  to  function  at  all  times.  she  couldn’t  keep  a  job,  which,  was  fine  at  first  because  indie’s  grandparents  (  her  mother’s  parents  )  were  fairly  well  off,  and  they  could  live  off  of  them

that  was  until  her  grandparent’s  cut  them  off  after  finally noticing  their  daughter  was  an  alcoholic.  so,  they  were  pretty  much  left  with  no  source  of  income

indie  started  working  as  soon  as  she  was  old  enough.  she  worked  two  jobs  in  high school,  which  didn’t  leave  her  much  time  to  focus  on  school.  she  never  cared  for  school  anyway,  her  focus  was  always  music,  but  she  didn’t  even  have  much  time  for  that  anymore

her  mother  seemed  to  have  a  new  boyfriend  every  week,  men  who  always  acted  like  they  were  here  to  say.  all  of  them  tried  to  control  indie,  but  she  resented  every  single  one  of  them.  she  could  see through  the  lies

she  spent  most  of  her  time  away  from  home,  she  didn’t  even  like  sleeping  there.  it  didn’t  feel  like  home  anymore,  and  it  hadn’t  for  a  long  time

one  day,  one  of  her  mother’s  boyfriends  actually  stuck  around.  indie  just  kept  waiting  and  waiting  for  the  day  he’d  leave,  but  he  never  did.  her  mother  remarried

after  remarrying,  her  mother  kinda  got  her  life  back  on  track  again.  she  immediately  went  back  to  trying  to  control  indie  again.  indie  absolutely  hated  it,  but  she  was  happy  to  see  her  mother  in  a  good  place  again,  so  she  tried  to  fit  the  mold  

indie  barely  graduated  high  school  and  never  went  to  college.  she  continued  working  for  the  next  few  years,  saving  up  money  and  working  on  music

she  started  dating  the  guy  her  mother  chose  for  her.  it  was  okay  at  first,  but  the  spark  was  always  missing.  the  longer  she  was  with  him  though,  she  began  to  realize  that  he  wanted  to  stay  in  that  stupid  little  town  forever,  and  the  idea  of  spending  the  rest  of  her  life  there  terrified  her  so  much  she  decided  to  runaway

so,  she  packed  all  her  things  and  ran  away  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  she  drove  through  the  night  to  find  her  father,  but  when  she  found  him,  she  learned  he  had  remarried  and  started  a  new  family

deep  down,  she  always  knew  he  didn’t  want  her,  otherwise  he  would’ve  made  an  effort  over  the  years.  but  she  really  had  to  see  it  to  believe  it

and  that’s  how  she  found  her  way  to  chicago.  she  never  told  her  mother  where  she  went,  but  she  knew  she  was  looking  for  her  and  so  was  her  ex

her  grandparent’s  send  her  money  every  once  in  a  while,  and  although  they  aren’t  close,  they  understand  why  she  ran  away  and  want  her  to  have  the  chance  to  start  fresh

she  stumbled  across  the  forum  one  day  and  decided  to  join  it,  because  she  was  starting  to  feel  a  little  lost  and  it  has  helped  her  a  lot

☆ . *   𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚    !

indie  is  extremely  extroverted.  she  is  a  social  butterfly  and  will  befriend  literally  anyone.  the  tricky  part  is  getting  close  to  her,  though.  she  tends  to  keep  her  emotions  to  herself.  she  presents  a  version  of  herself  to  the  world,  one  who  is  always  happy  and  alive  because  she  thinks  that’s  the  only  version  of  her  that  people  will  like

she  has  such  a  curious  soul  !!  all  she  wants  to  do  is  explore  and  experience  new  things,  so  she’s  always  down  for  an  adventure.  she  loves  a  good  party  because  she  loves  to  be  around  people.  she’s  a  social  drinker  and  drug  user  (  except  for  weed,  which  she  smokes  a  lot  )

indie  doesn’t  have  any  idea  about  what  love  is,  but  she  knows  she  wants  it.  she  wants  a  great,  interesting,  devoted  love,  but  is  having  trouble  finding  it.  so  she  tends  to  have  a  lot  of  lovers,  but  they  mostly  end  up  being  casual.  she  gets  bored  easily,  so  if  it  isn’t  exciting  at  all  times,  she  kinda  dips  akjsdhsdjhk  it’s  her  fear  of  abandonment  

she  is  obsessed  with  the  70′s,  from  the  music  to  the  aesthetics.  stevie  nicks  is  her  inspiration.  she  loves  music  of  all  eras,  though.  she  loves  thrifting,  and  her  style  is  heavily  influenced  by  70′s  fashion

she  can  be  pretty  spontaneous,  but  also  reckless.  she  wants  everything  in  life  to  be  an  adventure,  so  it  has  gotten  her  into  trouble  in  the  past

hates  authority  figures,  literally  she  has  so  much  trouble  with  respecting  authority  now  because  she  feels  like  she  wasted  her  entire  life  doing  that  for  people  who  didn’t  respect  her

has  a  hard  time  taking  things  seriously,  except  for  music  because  that  is  her  entire  life

☆ . *   𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔    !

party  buddies  -  they  always  go  to  parties  together.  maybe  they  don’t  see  each  other  outside  of  parties,  maybe  they  met  at  a  party  and  became  close  friends  afterwards

drinking  /  smoking  buddies  -  someone  she  can  drink  or  smoke  with.  maybe  they  have  a  more  casual  friendship,  but  anytime  they  hang  out,  they  share  some  interesting  conversations

confidant  - someone  who  confides  in  her  or  someone  she  confides  in,  or  they  confide  in  each  other.  they  don’t  necessarily  have  to  be  the  closest  friends  ever,  but  they  get  along,  trust  each  other,  and  maybe  they  talk  more  in  private

frenemies  - they’re  friends,  but  maybe  they’re  always  trying  to  one  up  each  other.  they  might  gossip  behind  each  other’s  backs.  sometimes  they  get  along  perfectly  well,  but  maybe  sometimes  they  get  into  stupid  fights

protective  friends  - friends  who  feel  extremely  protective  over  one  another.  indie  will  literally  fight  anyone  who  hurts  them

sibling-like  friendship  - indie  is  an  only  child,  so  i  would  love  for  her  to  have  someone  she  sees  like  a  sibling.  they’re  there  for  each  other,  look  out  for  one  another  and  always  have  each  other’s  backs

dynamic  duo  /  best  friend  - ride  or  dies.  platonic  soulmates   !! this  person  is  probably  the  closest  friend  she  has  and  actually  knows  her  well  !   a  power  duo

partner  in  crime  -  someone  who  always  goes   along  with  her  antics.  someone  who  she  bounces  off  of  and  they  do  dumb  /  fun  shit  together   !!!   her  adventure  buddy

online  friends  -  her  favorite  person  on  the  forum.  she  is  always  interacting  with  them  and  is  literally  always  the  first  to  comment  on  their  posts  or  something.  maybe  they  confide  in  each  other

bandmates  -  if  your  muse  sings,  plays  guitar,  bass,  drums  or  keyboard,  they  can  be  in  a  band !!!  indie  plays  guitar,  bass,  and  also  sings  so  she  can  do whichever  of  these  is  needed  !!  she  also  likes  to  compose  music,  but  with  bandmates  they  will  collaborate  and  make  stuff  together  of  course

groupie  love  -  i  didn’t  know  what  to  call  this  plot  so  pls  ignore  the  name,  i  went  for  a  lana  del  rey  song  title aksdhsdjkh  but  basically  maybe  ur  muse  was  there  at  one  of  the  little  gigs  she  played  and  they  became  acquainted  after  that  !!!  this  can  be  romantic  or  platonic,  we  can  plot  it  however.  but  maybe  they  keep  going  to  her  shows  and  she’s  always  happy  to  see  them

flirtationship  - they  flirt  constantly,  but  nothing  serious  has  come  out  of  their  flirting.  maybe  they  have  good  chemistry,  but  haven’t  really  tried  to  explore  it  further

ex-fling  - maybe  they  ended  things  more  recently,  or  maybe  they  ended  things a  few  months  or  a  year  ago.  they  could  have  ended  on  good  or  bad  terms.  maybe  someone  or  both  of  them  still  have  feelings,  or  maybe  they’re  just  friends  or  don’t  talk  now

current fling  /  friends  w  benefits  - someone  she  is  currently  seeing.  could  be  no  strings  attached,  or  there  could  b  some  feelings  there.  maybe  they  don’t  want  to  make  it  anything  serious,  or  maybe  they’re  ready  to  take  it  to  the  next  level.  maybe  one  person  is  ready  to  go  further,  and  the  other  isn’t

requited  /  unrequited  crush  - maybe  she  has  a  crush  on  ur  muse,  whether  it’s  a  deep  crush  or  a  more  surface  level  crush.  OR  ur  muse  could  have  a  crush  on  her  and  maybe  she’s  oblivious  to  it  !!!   maybe  our  muses  have  crushes  on  each  other   !!!  maybe  it  isn’t  super  serious,  or  maybe  it  is

will  they,  won’t  they  - there’s  feelings  between  them,  but  they  haven’t  made  the  plunge  to  pursue  whatever  they  have.  longing,  yearning,  lingering  glances

take  care  -  someone  who  looks  after  her  when  she  parties  a  little  too  hard   !!!   someone  she  trusts  who  keeps  her  out  of  trouble  when  she’s  under  the  influence  and  feeling  too  reckless  for  her  own  good

enemies  w/  benefits  -  there  was  always  underlying  tension  between  them,  even though  they  couldn’t  really  stand  each  other.  maybe  they  hooked  up  at  a  party  and  now,  despite  their  personal  feelings  towards  each  other,  they  still  continue  to  hook  up

cyber  sex  -  once  again,  i  didnt  kno  what  to  title  this  so  i  went  for  a  doja  cat  song AJKSDSJKH  but  basically  someone  on  the  forum  she  has  a  crush  on.  i  think  it’s  funny  because  she  has  noooo  idea  who  they  are  irl  but  maybe  they connect  super  well  online

ex-friends  - someone  she  used  to  consider  a  best  /  close  friend,  but  they  had  a  falling  out  for  whatever  reason  n  maybe  they  strongly  dislike  each  other  now.  maybe  they  want  to  re-kindle  their  friendship  but  don’t  know  how

dealer  -  someone  she  buys  drugs  from,  they  could  be  friends  or  it’s  strictly  business

bad  influence  -  someone  indie  is  a  bad  influence  on.  she  maybe  influences  them  to  party,  drink  or  do  drugs,  or  do  stupid  reckless  things  with  her

good  influence  -  someone  that  is  a  good  influence  on  her  and  gets  her  to  keep  her  act  together.  she  has  trouble  caring  about  anything  that  isn’t  music  related,  so  this  person  can  keep  her  on  track

roommates  -  one  to  two  people  that  she  lives  with  !!!  they  can  get  along,  or  maybe  they  don’t  vibe  super  well.  but  if  they  do  get  along  they  can  do  cute  stuff like  bake  and  watch  movies  together

coworkers  -  indie  is  a  bartender,  so  she  can  work  at  the  bar  or  restaurant  that  your  muse  works  at

meet  me  at  the  bar  -  someone  who  frequents  her  job  a  lot.  maybe  they’re  her  favorite  customer  and  she  loves  whenever  they  come.  we  can  plot  this  out  however !!!

congratulations  !!!  you  have  finally  reached  the  end  of  my  unnecessarily  long  intro  aksdjhsdjhk  i  would  like  to  thank  u  for  reading  and  apologize  for  all  the  rambling  i  did  <3  anyway  i  would  luv  to  plot,  so  i’ll  send  message  u  asap  if  u  like  this  post   !!!  we  can  definitely  plot  over  im’s,  but  i  am  partial  to  discord  if  u  wanna  add  me  there:    missing blackpink hours#5522

[queenie-writes-shit]

Then He Kissed Me (Reggie Kray/Reader)

word count: 1.9k rating: T inspiration: then he kissed me by the crystals

“Mr. Kray,” you mused from behind the bar counter as Reggie Kray walked into the bar. You were all dolled up with your nails freshly painted an almost tacky orange. It matched the tights you had decided to wear with your skirt, but nobody could see them anyhow.

“Ms. (Y/N),” he greeted. “All right?” Reginald asked as he took a seat at his usual corner on the bar. You reached behind you and got a glass down, eyeing him out of the corner of your vision.

“Quite well, today. It's been slow. Only two guys got pissed until they couldn't tell their thumb from their arse.” Your laugh always caught Reggie’s attention; it was infectious. “What'll you be ‘avin today, Mr. Kray? Scotch neat or on the rocks?” With the weather outside, you were sure that he would be having the amber drink on ice, but he surprised you by replying with a “Neat will be just right, darl’.” Your head slowly nodded as you set the glass down, grabbing his favorite scotch and pouring it into the glass and setting it down in front of him.

“No Ron with you today, hm?” Reggie shook his head, tilting his head back and getting a good amount of the alcohol down.

“No. He's off doing his work. I swear, if we hadn't come from the same mother, I'd give him a proper fight myself.” He harrumphed and looked up at you, leaned over with your hands on the counter, watching him with a raised eyebrow. When he set his glass back down, you filled it up without him even needing to ask. You knew his patterns all too well.

“It's a little early for you to be drinkin’ like you normally do, innit?” The glare he shot at you with his blue eyes had you silenced, your hazel eyes narrowed as you suppressed your thoughts. If he was drinking and in a bad mood, it was best you didn't test him. Even though he claimed that he liked the way you didn't respond like every other woman to him, there were days where he just needed silence. “Right, well, I'm going to switch on the juke and do some writing while I wait for you to finish your drink.” A soft “Mh,” was all that Reggie responded with.

You walked to the other side of the bar and started the tracks up, feeling in the mood for a little bit of The Rolling Stones. Reggie didn't seem to mind, grabbing one of the newspapers as you sat down, getting out a journal and continuing on with your story. Your hand moved slightly as you scribbled down a part of the story about being on a plane crashing with your main characters on it. You allowed yourself to feel the panic the characters felt. It helped you write better, write real reactions. After a few minutes had passed, you looked up. The next song was starting, and yet your sole patron didn't ask for more. Of course, he wasn't even a patron… He was your boss, for all intents and purposes. The purple hue of the sunset spilled into the bar, and you looked down at the glass. Empty.

“You coulda spoken up instead of just staring at me with dead mince pies,” you grumbled as you got up and poured more into his glass. He nodded and you sat back down. You still felt his gaze on your face. You let a few more seconds pass before you looked up again, watching the intense look on Reggie’s face. Under his scrutinizing stare you began to flush, your neck growing hot. It was no lie that Reginald was sought after by a lot of women for good reason; he was one of the best looking men in the East End, even if he was rumored to be dangerous. He shifted and sat back in his chair, reaching into his coat to get a cigarette and lighter out. He lit the stick before you could really even catch it.

You took your journal back out as the song switched to something by Marvin Gaye, but you could never remember the title. As soon as the journal was on the counter, Reggie took out the tobacco from between his lips and cleared his throat. “(Y/N), love, why don't you rattle and’ hum over ‘ere for a second?” You stood from the stool obediently and walked over to Reggie, placing your hands on your hips.

“Yes, Mr. Kray?” You spoke, wondering what he wanted. “You look like you've been trying to figure out somethin’.” It was more of a statement than it was a question or request. You turned your head a bit.

“I… was jus’ wondering why you were staring at me,” you replied truthfully. He laughed at that.

“The expressions you made while writing had me interested in what you were doing. You looked scared, and yet for half of a sec you would be fine. And then back to being terrified. You'd think I was ‘oldin’ a gun to yer head like that.” Your cheeks instantly grew red, and you let out a quieter laugh.

“Oh. That.” Reggie nodded. “It's easier to write if I can slip into the shoes of whoever I'm writing. Y'know?” You smoothed back your hair, the ends still holding the hairspray you had put in it that morning.

“It was just peculiar,” Reggie told you. He paused to take a drag of his cigarette, holding in between his large index finger and thumb. “D'ya want a puff?” As he spoke, smoke spilled from his mouth. You shrugged and reached your hand out to take it from his fingers, ignoring the spark of their skin touching. As you wrapped your lips around the foot, Reggie’s eyes were immediately on your pursed lips, enjoying the look. As soon as your lips were on the stick, you took it back out and exhaled the smoke from your still pursed lips, the cigarette being set on the ashtray. The music was the only thing filling the air for a second before you meekly thanked him.

“Come ‘round here and come sit with me.” The command had you confused. You always stayed behind the counter. Then again, most of the time, other people needed your attention as well. You complied and walked around the bar until you were on the main floor, about to sit down when he spread his legs and patted one thigh. “Don't be afraid, love. I won't bite.” Ever so hesitantly did you comply, awkwardly perching on his right leg. You tried to keep your weight off of him, pulling your skirt down with one hand. Reggie had other plans. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer, enjoying the look of surprise written across your features.

“There we are, princess.” You snorted softly. You had heard Reggie use the term to just about everyone but you. You supposed that it would have come anyway. “Comfortable?”

“If your definition of it is hangin’ onto a man for unknown reasons, then yes. Quite.” A grin cracked Reggie’s face, his large lips spreading in an adorable smile.

“Don't be like that. It's just more convenient. You get to sit an’ still talk to me.” You slowly moved your hand to grasp at his jacket for more stability, the music changing in the background. “Well, what is it that you'd like to talk about, Mr. Kray?” You teased softly.

“How about your book, Ms. (Y/N)?” He replied with the playful tone, humoring the pretty thing on his lap. You were different. You actually thought about things.

“A couple whose life has changed due to a bad aeroplane crash. I've just begun writin' it. After my last book… Well, didn't make me much money. No bad reviews, it's just that, y'know, all the telleys are distracting people from the book industry.” The whole time that you talked in such an animated fashion, Reggie couldn't help but chuckle. The way your eyes moved attracted him. You stopped suddenly when you realized he was giving you the look again. You weren't pulling any faces. “Is there something on my face, Reginald?”

“Yeh,” Reggie uttered lowly, raising a hand to your jaw. You were sure nothing was, but he placed his warm thumb against your lower lip, swiping the side against the slightly chapped lip. He kept his thumb there, making you grow warm. “Reggie?” You asked in a quieter voice. You could hear The Crystals in the background. Reggie held your head where it was firmly, biting his lip as you stared up at him. The simple action had you breathing a little less, something tight in your belly as he stared down at you.

“You know, darling, I can have my way with anyone I want.”

“So I've heard,” you responded with just a touch of confusion.

“I'd like to ask you instead of forcing it.” You quirked an eyebrow up with a thick swallow. You hoped he wasn't asking for sex, even if he was attractive. “Ask for what, Mr. Kray?” Reggie’s smirk that followed had your chest give out.

“It'd be fine if I kissed you, yeah?” You stammered at the question. You didn't say no. As soon as you started to utter the beginning of a yes, his lips found yours. The song playing around them was too ironic.

And then he kissed me.

His lips moved off and on your lips, nipping lightly as you kissed back just as hard, pressing your body closer to his so you wouldn't fall. His lips were breathtaking to touch. It sent your brain aflame. It made you drunk. You had never enjoyed a quick kiss quite that much before.

He kissed me in a way that I've never been kissed before.

Reggie let out a grunt of enjoyment, and you went to grab his thin white shirt instead, tilting your head as his tongue pushed against your bottom lip. He tasted like alcohol and his cigarette, with just a hint of toothpaste. It wasn't entirely bad. You had had worse kisses. When he groaned softly you had to pull back, not wanting to take it too far.

He kissed me in a way that I want to be kissed forevermore.

You stood up when you could, cheeks flushed with red and lips kiss-bruised with color. He was in a similar state, though slightly more collected and covering up his inner thigh with his arm. “I should…” You looked over to the window, seeing someone walking closer to the building. “Get back to tha job.” You cleared your throat a little more and walked around the counter again, smoothing your skirt. You could still feel his large hand on the small of your back, your skin warm.

The door jingled as one of his men walked in.

“I suppose I should go round u’ my brother.” Reggie gave another glance to you. “Take it easy, beautiful.”

You licked the last of his saliva off of your lower lip. “Have a good one, Mr. Kray.”

[twogyus]

Apart, Then Together Again; [Lee Taeyong]

Prompt: You and Taeyong make up after taking a break.

Genre: hurt/comfort, romance, angst

Warning(s): smut

Word Count: 3.7k

                                                 Not to your surprise, but you spend what is supposed to be your anniversary with Taeyong, thinking about Taeyong. You reminisce about how happy you had been when the two of you were together. How miserable you were now that you had spent so much time apart. Where not seeing him wasn’t anything new, having no words exchanged was. The longest you had gone without physical contact had been two and a half months, but until recently the longest you had gone without speaking to him was a week. A busy schedule rarely kept you from sparking a conversation.

 Sadly, the image of Taeyong that you conjure up is of him frowning at you like a wet cat, and you were the one who threw him in the bath. The crease in his brow looked as if it were etched into stone, a permanent fixture. Had you really ruined everything you worked so hard to maintain with Taeyong? Were the nights spent checking in on him and reassuring him of your feelings despite his absence pointless? His struggling to find times for you to have secret meetings and rushed lunch dates useless? It was likely, you mused, but as you pick up your phone and swipe to call him, you hope that is not the case.

 You call three times before he picks up. He’s monotone and short with all of his replies, but he does tell you he has time to spare later in the evening. You tell him you will come to the dorms and that you are happy he agreed meeting. He hangs up first. Your phone buzzes in your palm minutes later, causing you to lose your bubble popping game.

 Flipping through channels on your small television you at last find the channel your friend told you to tune in to. On screen are two young MCs, casual in their looks despite the groups dressed to the nines behind them. Among them you quickly pick out NCT U with their black ensembles and red accessories. So that was why he took so long in picking up your call. That was why he denied meeting you in an hour’s time. He had been performing. He wasn’t just ignoring you again.

 You keep the program on for background noise as you continue your game, only pausing to see the winners let out joyous shouts and thank their fans. Taeyong smiles politely, but you note he looks troubled. He’s usually genuinely pleased for whoever wins over him, but today seems different. You decide against bringing it up later. Pointing it out probably won’t do any good. Won’t better anything, you think. Your goal is to make things better, You won’t say anything if it won’t make your situation have a better outcome, you promise yourself.

One of the kids from Dream ushers you inside, he greets you politely before scampering away. You can hear a loud bunch of them off in someone’s room, arguing about someone cheating on a game. Mark enters your vision, he smiles.

 “Mark, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You don’t comment on how tired he seems despite the brightening effect of his makeup. It’ll take more than heavy concealer to hide how his whole body sags forward, how he leans against the nearest sturdy surface. “I hope you’re able to rest some time soon.”

 “I have exactly seven hours to sleep if I make it to my bed in five minutes.” He waves after leading you to Taeyong and Johnny’s room.

 You knock and Johnny is mid stretch when you enter, you catch a peek of his boxers before he pulls a pillow to cover his bare chest. “Enjoy,” he sends you a wink before exiting.

 Taeyong is sitting on the edge of his bed, still done up from the day’s productions. Half of his hair is slicked back and the rest is casting a shadow over a penciled-in brow. He’s mindlessly scrolling through something when you announce yourself.

 Immediately he puts his phone down and scoots back. You sit across from him on Johnny’s bed, one leg tucked underneath you. You are nervous. You don’t want to be yelled at,  no matter how much you might deserve it.

“You look nice.” Flattery always gets you forward in life, right?

 “She did a good job. Did you watch us today?” Your friend was a talented makeup artist, yes, but that’s not what you were here to discuss. 

 You lie and shake your head. “I slept a lot. Wasn’t feeling well.”

 “What’s wrong?” He’s sad, so sad, you don’t like it. Maybe he is regretful of what went down the days prior. He won’t make eye contact.

 “I’m not sure. I was just tired. I went to bed exhausted last night and today I woke up tired.”

 “Oh, I thought it might,” he cuts himself off. “Never mind.”

 “That too,” you know what he had been getting at. “I requested off quite some time ago. It’s a milestone after all.”

 His mouth quirks at your revelation. “400 hundred days.”

 “Not exactly, but we came close. I’m shocked we made it past a week after our first date.”

 “A spilled coffee and your broken shoe weren’t very good omens were they?”

 “I didn’t expect you to talk to me after that night. I ruined your shirt.”

 “It was no big deal, I told you.”

 “It was an eighty dollar shirt.”

 “Yeah well, I stepped on the back of your sandal and ripped it right off your foot.”

 “My ten dollar pair of sandals, what a tragedy. My poor heart,” you feign a gasp and fling yourself backwards. Ideally, your light mood is supposed to make things run smoothly.

 “__?”

 “Yes?” You don’t want to look, don’t want to see his face. It hurts more when he’s dressed this way. Perhaps that is shallow of you, but seeing the perfection that is Lee Taeyong look unhinged because of you makes you feel some kind of way.

 “I was just mad because we hadn’t spoken in so long. I was just mad because we hadn’t spoken and there you were and you weren’t waiting for me you were there for someone else.”

He's talking about when you met up with Yuta to see a movie. Yuta assured you Taeyong wasn't around, however the older unknowingly slipped back into the dorm for his wallet. You poked your head out from behind the refrigerator door to see him sneering at Yuta who watched him with wary eyes. After Taeyong got done ripping you a new one, Yuta chased after you and walked you home. You cried on his shoulder and he assured you Taeyong loved you despite his behavior.

 You rub at your eyes trying to will away your tears. How stupid of you to assume things could be easy between the two of you after all of the turmoil you caused him. “I’m sorry, Taeyong.”

 “You’re allowed to have friends. I shouldn’t have been so jealous.”

 “No, not that, I’m sorry for not talking to you. That was wrong of me.”

 “Stop, please stop.” You feel the bed dip and suddenly one of your hands is being lifted away. You peek up at him.

 “I’m sorry.” You know if you blink tears are inevitable. You don’t want to cry and make him feel any worse than he already does. This isn’t his fault. It’s yours, you were the one being stupid and ending things for stupid, stupid, stupid reasons. Reasons you very well did not put much thought into, consequences of your actions be damned. “I’m really sorry,” your voice breaks mid sentence. “I love you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think it was possible but that was just me doubting myself again, wasn’t it.”

You called it off. You had a scare and he was upset, rightly so, but you weren’t expecting his rejection. He made you leave the dorm so you vowed to not speak to him until he reached out. Then you found out it was a mistake and were afraid to let him back in, lest it happen again and be true. You’d both been in the wrong.

 He nods at you softly and presses a kiss to your forehead. You in turn dot a few along his jaw.

 “I missed you.”

 He hums and pecks your mouth this time.

 “Did you miss me too?”

 He kisses you again, lingering. He does it again and again and again until you lean into the next and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Moaning, he parts his lips and puts a lax hand on your neck. Past memories have you deepening the kiss and tugging at his silky honey colored strands. He shifts so your back is flat against the mattress and his chest is against yours before he pauses. Surveying the area he grins down at you. “We’re on Johnny’s bed.”

 “Okay, then we should stop.”

 “I thought we were making up for lost time?”

 “I can wait. Can you?” You raise your brows at him. You are shocked he wants to jump back into the midst of your relationship so quickly.  You don’t have it in your heart to tell him to slow down. You don’t want to be separated from him any longer than necessary.

 “I don’t know how long I can hold out. Come see me tomorrow, after you’re off?”

 “If you really want me to.”

 “I do.”  

 You attempt to drag yourself away from him but he manages to pull you back three times before you make it out of his room. He keeps a hand attached to your waist as he walks you to the entryway. He checks around before pecking you once more.

 “You’ll come?”

 “Tomorrow after work, yes.”

"I'll make sure its a little less crowded then, so it’s quiet for us.”

When you return to the dorm the following day, you're surprised to to be welcomed by Taeyong, alone. You can't hear a thing over the living room television. How he seemingly got everyone to leave, you have no idea. You don't question it, just silently thank the higher powers for this moment alone.

He leads you to his shared room and you both recline on his bed.

"___, I have to tell you something. I can't hold it back any longer."

You hold your breath as you wait for him.

 “I just need you to know, in my eyes I wasn’t rejecting you. I still wanted you, I still want you. After being apart from you I want you more than I did before. I love you.”

 You give him a once over. You don’t know what you are looking for, but you know you did not want him to lie to make you happy. It was the first time he had told you he loved you after all. Sure he had said it jokingly, or after you did something cute, but now it seemed serious. His voice wasn’t lacking in sincerity, and he had been staring straight at you when he said it.

 You surge towards him, effectively pushing him into his mattress. You press kisses onto the entirety of his face, “I love you too.” One for his right cheek. “I missed you.” To his left. “You’re my favorite.” His chin. “Every bit of you,” he directs you to his lips. “I love it.”

 Before you can deepen the kiss he moves his head to the side and forces eye contact. “We could try.” He trails off. “Eventually, we could try. I think it would make me happy.”

 “Try? Try what?” Seconds later you catch on. “You want to? You think?”

 “When the time is right, I think we would have the best family.”

 You remember now what your favorite- favorite thing about Taeyong is. You are on the same wavelength. Both ultra caring, ultra sensitive, career driven, occasionally reclusive. Ultimately scared of failing those around you.

 “That’s all we can do, try our best.”

 You both lean in.

 “Not to sound pushy, but I’d like to get back to what we started last night if that’s okay.”

 You’re fast to roll onto your back next to him.

 “What are you doing?”

 “You said you wanted to get back to last night.”

 “But I like when you’re on top.”

 You tug on him into place above you and connect your mouths before he can complain again. He presses closer to you, persistent about feeling every inch of you at once. You card your fingers through his hair before pulling on the collar of his shirt. He’s eager to take everything off, undoing the buttons of your blouse soon after. You both pause when your bare chests are together, the heat between you helping combat against the chill of the air conditioning. He shudders when his hand connects with your stomach.

 He moves his head into the crook of your neck. He appears content with staying there, holding your midsection and smiling into your skin.

 After a few hushed minutes he turns his head and begins to trail kisses from behind your ear, down to your clavicle. He pauses to make a mark just underneath. He’s slow about it, pulling the skin between his teeth and moving his tongue over it before applying pressure and soothing away the hurt.

 You want this to last forever, but in reality you hadn’t been touched for a long time and urge him to get to the main event. He laughs at you and pays attention to your chest to calm you down. He wants to savor this. To memorize what he hasn’t even forgotten. Though you had only slept together a handful of times, he knew your body well. Knew how to pacify you when you became needy and wouldn’t allow let things unfold naturally.

 He runs the hand on your stomach up to your right breast, lightness of his touch causing goosebumps to form. He traces a finger over your nipple, just barely grazing it before moving to your left side. His tongue dips out to wet your skin before he ducks his head down to your navel, hastily undoing your bottoms.

 Who was he kidding? His way of pacifying you is to gift you your every desire.

 Once he has your pants off he pushes himself back up to face you, juts his hips against yours and grinds down into you. As much as your eyes want to droop shut, you stay alert to watch him. His mouth parts and he groans in satisfaction of finally having some kind of friction against his growing bulge. You wrap your legs around him, actively seeking your own pleasure from the way he’s moving.

 He bends forward to support his weight on his hands when you reach between your bodies to undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath when you get your hand on his member. Stops breathing altogether when he feels the head of his cock come in contact with your slick heat after you shove your panties to the side. When he finally feels your walls enclose around him he drops to his elbows.

 You gather him in your arms, hands moving up and down his back as you both relish in the feeling of being together emotionally and physically after such a long while. You lay still, chest to chest for some time, before becoming impatient and rocking your hips into his. He immediately rises and begins to shift against you, starting a steady pace that’s quick enough to keep you from asking for more yet also keep him from coming undone too soon.

 Seeing you beneath him gives Taeyong a sense of joy he didn’t realize was possible to achieve from sex. Typically your meetings were rushed and involved you giving him a handjob before sending him off. You were weird about letting him explore your body, and he was too shy to ask to do things you didn’t seem to want any part of.

 When you did have full blown sex,  you were always on top, half clothed, his forehead against your chest as he watched your breasts bounce with every roll of your body against his. He was fine with it, but sometimes he imagined seeing you fully naked, like now, moaning as loudly as your voice allowed. He takes the opportunity and rakes his eyes over every inch of exposed skin. He notes little moles on the inside of your thighs and a raised scar over your left hip.

 Peering down he sees where you are joined, how easily you accept him inside despite the resistance he feels from stretching you open. Every time his cock slides out its wetter than before and he tries his best not to speed up. He’s finally got you where he’s wanted you every since the first time you gave into his advances. He isn’t going to have it end abruptly.

 As pleasurable as Taeyong’s tempo is, you normally set the pace. When you’re on top he reaches deeper and small rolls of your hips are enough to set you off. With him on top for the first time, you remember one of the reasons you never switched things up. Sometimes he’s angled just right to hit a spot that makes you cry out, but mostly he’s just rubbing against your walls. It feels nice, but will surely not end in you orgasming with your boyfriend.

 You pet his hair and make him look at you. “Taeyong, I need more.”

 Your words set his cheeks aflame and he halts. Stuttering he asks what he can do.

 You spread your thighs wider and use one of your legs to bring him further into you. “You gotta go faster and deeper and,” You hesitate. “You have to touch me.”

 “I’m not touching you enough?”

 You take his hand and lead it between your legs. “Touch me here.” You show him how to use two fingers to rub soft circles onto your clit. Eventually you let him to do it on his own, and when you start to freely moan he nods to himself and begins to pick up speed.

 Almost immediately upon directing Taeyong you feel yourself go taut. Your breath starts to catch in your throat. Periodically you let out a harsh gasp when you remember to exhale. Taeyong watches you all along your quick journey to completion, in awe of how open you’re being with your expressions. Before you’d simply bite your lip and begin writhing in his lap.

 Your walls start to spasm around his length, and he takes his hand from your clit to find purchase on the bed. His control slips for a split second and he rams into you one, two, three times before stopping and supporting himself on shaky arms above you.  

He’s blissfully aware that he came inside of you for the first time in your relationship.

Taeyong stays lying beside you for as long as he can handle. You lift your head from his chest after he tells you he needs to shower. You wipe yourself off some tissues you find in your purse from your last cold and proceed to get dressed. You just about have your bra done up when you hear knocking. Your blood runs cold.

 Taeyong assured you that he would make sure the dorm was safe for you the night before. Despite not seeing anyone when you entered earlier, you knew how unlikely it was for everyone to be away.. They were probably in their own little worlds, in their own rooms, trying their best to ignore the noises coming from Taeyong’s.

 You quietly finish dressing, wishing away whoever was behind the door. There’s another knock however, and after you don’t answer, the door swings open.

 Your soul nearly leaves you when you see Yuta taking in every out of place detail of the normally pristine bedroom. “I take it things went well?”

 You say nothing, hoping you are hallucinating.

  Though Yuta can read the signs of what just went on, a part of him is still excited by your presence. He tries to play it cool by laughing at you but he is in fact disturbed to see you with sex hair and the buttons on your shirt done up the wrong way.

  He comes closer to the bed you’re on and gets to his knees. Your wide eyes watch him like a hawk, unsure of what he’s doing. He doesn’t say anything about the way your leg trembles when his shoulder brushes past. He stands with Taeyong’s charger in his hand.

  “One of the kid’s borrowed mine.”

  It's a lame excuse, but instead of calling him out on it you toss him a forlorn glance. “Probably won’t be getting that back.”

  “I often don’t get the things I want.”

  He leaves, yet you feel the need to follow in his footsteps and ask him to elaborate. Ultimately you don’t. You know what he means, you just wish he weren’t so vocal about his desires, especially when they involved you.

  Especially after he said your friendship could remain the same.

Your mind feels back to the day of the movie. To when Taeyong chastised you for spending time with people from his circle while you were separated. To when Yuta chased after you when you stormed out.

 He stood next to you on the bus, unafraid to be seen without a mask. He kept his hand on your shoulder and murmured quiet things to keep you from bursting out in tears. In your apartment he sat close by and rubbed your back. You leaned on him for support and you kissed each other goodbye as he left. For you it was a moment of vulnerability. Utterly isolated because of your hidden relationship, no one else was able to comfort you because they knew nothing of the situation. The kiss was an impulsive thank you of sorts that you regretted instantly. 

You stare at your clenched fists as you reminisce, when Taeyong re-enters the room. You will tell him in due time. For now, you pray that Yuta keeps his mouth shut and his feelings fade quickly. You wanted only Taeyong, you had him back, and you weren’t planning on letting him go this time.

[galaxyraised]

hi ! feel free to answer this publicly or privately . i was just reading your discovery canon divergences and was happy to see that in your canon jett is reunited with her wife ! i was wondering if you'd thought more about her as a character ? if i recall she was non - human but that's literally all the show gave us . i'd love to hear any ideas you have about her and her relationship with jett !

first of all,  ily a lot.  and second,  this is an absolutely wonderful question!!  i’m still figuring out a lot of the littler details about jett and developing her beyond what we see in the show so this is perfect,  but!!!  in zanza canon,  the bury your gays trope doesn’t exist and every lgbtq+ character in zanza canon gets to have their happy ending in my main verses   (   which,  for the record,  is all of them not a single muse on this blog is even remotely straight and the only time any of them die are for Personal Temporary Angst Purposes,  u heard it here first,  folks every muse on this blog is immortal from here on out   ),   so obviously that was the first thing that needed to be fixed.  but onto actually answering the question!!

so!  jett’s wife is soyousian,  and we know literally nothing about them except for the fact that they exist,  so i’m gonna honestly be creating her as i go.  which is always fun!!  u know,  trust me and my adhd brain to craft an entire alien race from their name??  cool let’s do it,  what could possibly go wrong?  i’m gonna be vague to begin with,  bc i wanna give the development of the soyousians themselves the care and thought they deserve,  so mostly this is gonna be me talkin about their relationship?  

sO in zanza canon,  as far as it’s been established,  the soyousians are fairly newly known to humans.  they’ve been warp-capable for almost 300 years,  and share a bond with humans in that their first contact was also with vulcans.  this common thread is what led jett’s wife,  who i’ve gone ahead and named iminre,  to want to visit earth not too long after humans and soyousians made initial contact.  a small delegation was chosen,  some were commoners,  some were diplomats,  some were students.  iminre was one of those who fell into the latter category.  she’d always been fascinated by other cultures,  and even on her own planet she loved learning about the differences between those who lived even cities apart.  she was fairly young when the first group were going to earth,  roughly 23 in earth years,  and still a student.  from what we know about her from the brief conversation jett had with hugh,  she’s the sort of person who just knows what they want and isn’t afraid to do whatever it takes to get it  —  which is probably how she ended up being one of those picked for the trip in the first place.

this isn’t where she met jett,  but it’s where she first really became infatuated with humanity in general.  the way people lived,  their general zeal for exploration  —  it wasn’t something she saw much on her home-world.  they were warp capable,  yes,  but many preferred to keep to themselves,  and others were downright xenophobic.  iminre had always been seen as odd for having such a desire to explore,  so when the delegation of soyousians left,  she stayed behind.  she joined starfleet and became a xenoanthropologist which is??  sort of how we get into her and jett meeting.

sO they were assigned to the same starship after iminre’s graduation from the academy,  and jett was a lieutenant already,  and obvi. an engineer,  but not really a people person?  she sort of kept to herself,  didn’t have many friends,  and really just preferred to work or sit in her quarters reading.  so the two of them didn’t even meet until the comm system in iminre’s quarters stopped working and jett was the one sent to fix it.  she didn’t say much,  she really just let iminre talk her ear off,  but there was some decent banter and a connection right off the bat.  before anything could really spark,  though,  jett was transferred to another ship.

it was another three years before they saw each other again,  and to both of their surprise,  jett was the one who approached iminre and asked her out.  said she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about a certain annoying,  talkative,  opinionated soyousian for three damn years and figured she might as well.  for a long time it was long distance bc they were assigned to different ships,  but one day iminre showed up on the ship jett was assigned to and jett was like ‘wtf you’re supposed to be on a mission right now’,  and iminre just kissed her and was like ‘well i decided i didn’t like that, so i came up with a solution’ and fucking proposed right there   (   bc ‘you asked me out first,  jett,  this gets to be my thing’   ).

jett didn’t really want any part of wedding planning,  especially since she knew iminre would be all over it   (   which we know she was   ),   and despite the complaining she does to hugh about the micromanaging,  jett ended up really surprised that her girl  —  despite all of her opinions,  and strong-willed stubbornness  —  managed to make it the perfect day for both of them.  and really?  jett can be kind of a drama queen,  and has a tendency to blow things a little bit out of proportion for the sake of a story.

but honestly they’re just the kind of people who work really well together?  they fight over dumb little things,  but they also bring out the best in each other.  jett likes to joke that iminre only married her because of her fascination with humans,  but she’s (almost) always kidding,  and she Knows she’ll always get a kiss out of it??  and uh.  they’re pure and soft and iminre brings jett out of her shell more,  and jett helps iminre to tone it down a little when she needs to.  and when they’re reunited?  they get into a “i thought you were dead!!”  “well i heard you were almost dead!!!!”  arguing match before they both start crying and hugging each other,  and iminre transfers to the discovery as soon as she’s cleared to return to duty and jett acts more like she did before the war and everyone’s like ‘???? who are you and what have you done with jett reno?’ and she flips them all off.  thank you.

always ask questions abt my kids i love this sm??   |   accepting   |   @dieserve!

[lachalaine]

dun dun dududuuuuun !! bonjour, hello, and i wish only the happiest of holidays to all !! it’s the end of the year again, and while i’ll personally admit it’s been a huge mess of one on my side of things, i must say that i’m very thankful for a lot of what’s occurred this year as well, especially for me with regards to the rp community on tumblr ! it was a year of ups and downs and while i wasn’t as active as i would have liked to be due to the constancy of irl concerns, i’ve still somehow managed to acquire a severely supportive and absolutely wonderful set of mutuals that have made me feel very so welcome on here time and time again, making tumblr out to be what i would seriously consider to be one of the few sanctuaries i have left that i hold dear to my heart. being on here has legitimately been actual therapy for my mental health in the months that have passed, and i only have you all to thank for it ! your mere presence on here, whether or not we might have spoken on a near constant basis or even just once in a blue moon ( because i know i tend to evaporate into thin air once every few days without warning sdbhdbahda ) or even potentially never has been a real source of joy for me, even if all i was able to do was generally just take a seat back and watch you having fun on the dash. 

thank you for being such positive and such creative individuals on here, for putting so much of yourselves into a hobby, for spending your time and energy on creating new worlds with us with your characters, and just generally being such absolute inspirations for everyone. thank you as well for still being here and for accepting me and my muse onto your dashboards and for allowing us the chance to impact your tumblr experience, despite that we’ve had more then a few slip ups this year that we’re still trying to catch up on. we’ve never felt more accepted by the community ( nor have i ever felt like more of a mess, but you take the good with the bad and roll with it guess dbshdbsa ) and i sincerely appreciate you guys never giving up on me, no matter what !

your genuine patience and kind understanding has been a blessing for me and her in so many ways, and i’m thankful that we can still be here at the end of this year to hopefully make up for all that we’ve missed and failed to do with you guys, and still attempt to try to come in strong for the next one. i’m hoping as well to repay everyone for all that you’ve done for me this year, because i’m not exaggerating when i say i don’t think i could have made it through without your support !! whether it’s been a small ask or a short im message or even just a spare like on one of my posts, it all has meant so, so much to me, and though i know people will say that tumblr is a hellscape, somehow this community still manages to power through the bullshit to make it one of the most welcoming platforms i’ve ever had the chance to be on, and i’m thankful for the chance to be considered a part of it. it’s allowed me to meet all of you, people that i don’t know i would have ever had the opportunity to meet otherwise, and that alone has been an experience i would hate to ever have to lose. 

thanks for being here for me and for jackie, through our times of stilted growth and near constant stumbles, and thanks for giving me the strength of heart to keep moving forward, and to keep trying !! i know for a fact i wouldn’t be nearly as stable irl if i didn’t have this hobby to keep me grounded, and honestly - being here is one of the best decisions i have ever made in MY LIFE. bless you, ily and thank you xx

and so below the cut i just have some quick ( lol ) messages for a few friends that really just made such a grand impact on my year, i don’t know where i would be without them. i also just want to make a quick shout out to the people that have made my dashboard what it is - a haven for creativity and laughter and inspiration, and a place where i feel most accepted and at peace. if i might have missed you, please don’t take offense to it, there’s just a lot of people on my dash and honestly my head is spinning already but ily too please don’t doubt it and thank you !! 

for the people that i just generally really adore on my dashboard but have also made such a grand impact on my muse and i in 2018, i just want to say THANK YOU for sharing your time and your efforts with me, for sending me asks and for writing with me or even if we haven’t written together yet - just thank you for being my friend and for being here !! I KNOW IM STILL CATCHING UP TO THINGS IM AT 115 ON MY INBOX AND NOT TO MENTION MY DRAFTS BUT I’LL MAKE SURE TO FULFILL EVERYTHING I OWE YOU GUYS ASAP! thanks for being so patient with me and for giving me countless chances and for those of you checking up on me and also offering me your support when i needed a friend - thanks for being such absolutely incredible people! 

i really adore you guys more then you know and i hope 2019 gives us a chance to do more together, because i feel a lot like there’s so much more to work on and i’m so excited to get to it all with you! also YOU GUYS ARE SERIOUSLY AMAZING WRITERS AND IM CONSTANTLY IN AWE AND READING YOUR WORK BECAUSE ITS ALWAYS SO MUCH FUN AND I LEARN A LOT AND YOU GUYS ARE REALLY INSPIRING OKAY I JUST NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR TALENTS WITH ME I AM THANKFUL FOR THIS CHANCE ALWAYS !!!

@dialforsnacc / @jaxyu / @saikuru-no-owari / @mikrifotia / @niirmohii / @aureumrex / @endgcme / @ncughts / @univentorem / @moonsought / @valhallic / @tamenteki / @lifedenied / @necrophagic / @spellbiinding / @hathlived / @manypcths / @odigxs / @brynhildrofromantia / @portalipsis / @pridesglasses / @luseron / @ghxstlyrxveries / @nanpoghan / @lordspreyer / @moonsought / @sukkubxs / @hhemeraa / @xaconite / @imperterritus / @astcrii

thank you all sincerely for everything, and i do really hope i managed to get most everyone asdbhasbdha i know im missing quite a few people but even if you’re not on the list, please know i adore you, thank you !! also moving forward these are the uhm -- ‘short’ messages i promised, sorry for babbling on and all but thanks for reading through, i appreciate it !! 

@bestiatexere // momochiiiii !!!!! the best twinsie !! the sweetest twinsie !! the most amazing and seriously the most incredible person friend i have ever had the absolute pleasure to write with! not only write with, but plot with and ship with AND DHBSDHBASHDS GIRL I SWEAR IT HAS BEEN AN ABSOLUTE BLESSING FOR ME THAT WE STUMBLED ON EACH OTHER THE WAY WE DID. IT COULDN’T HAVE COME AT A BETTER TIME. we’ve been through a shit ton together since the day we met, and it’s been a hell of a roller coaster ( like holy shit, i can’t believe the crap we went through tHIS YEAR ALONE !! ) but thankfully we managed to get through it all in one piece! and though i know we’re exhausted beyond belief and kinda wanna pass out to hibernate for a few weeks until we’re ready to face the world again, i know we unfortunately don’t quite have that kind of luck on our side just yet. but someday !! someday soon!! someday we’ll have the chance to write and plot and make sure our kids get all the happy endings ( and angst endings hihihi ) they could ever WANT OR NEED AND DHSAHDBASH HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU HOW HAPPY AND LUCKY I AM THAT I SOMEHOW MANAGED TO GET TO BE YOUR FRIEND ?? you are a blessing through and through, always giving so much of yourself and trying your best no matter what! you’ve been able to keep me grounded when i’ve felt like i’ve been a ghost, and you’ve been such a constant source of comfort and support when i’ve been lost. the fact that you’re always so understanding and kind to me even when i’m like this has been such a treasure to me, i never want to make you feel like i ever take your friendship for granted. i am seriously so absolutely lucky that you’ve given me this chance to write with you and your incredible muses, because you give all you can for them, and your effort shows. in heart, mind and words, in ideas and plots and all the gifs we squeal and scream over constantly --- these things have gotten me through my days when the world seemed very bleak, and i am thankful that you’ve chosen to share these treasures with me. you are the one person where i feel like we’re constantly on the same page and i can be an anxious mess with you and also a dork with you and ITS SO COMFORTABLE IM SO LUCKY !!! YOU’RE MY BESTEST TWIN. SOMEONE I CONSIDER ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS. AND I CONSTANTLY ADORE YOU AND AM IN AWE OF YOU AND YOUR TALENTS AND ABILITIES EVERY DAY YOU GET TO SHARE IT WITH ME. U ARE A BLESSING. NEVER FORGET. YOU’RE THE BEST GIRL AND I HOPE YOU NEVER EVER HAVE TO FEEL OTHERWISE AGAIN !!

@kuebcko // SCALEEEEEEEEY !!! hello hi ily thank you for always being there for me :((((((( honestly, i don’t know how you manage to do it but somehow i feel like you have a j warning alert somewhere in your mind, that just kinda pops up an alert whenever you feel like im sad or need a friend AND LET ME TELL YOU, IT IS WORKING LIKE A CHARM. like, i don’t know if i’ve ever mentioned this, but i’ll be feeling anxious or lowkey down in the dumps, and even if i try to keep it quiet because i KNOW YOU WORRY ABOUT MEEEEE AND IM SORRY I DON’T WANT YOU TO WORRY BUT IT MEANS A LOT THAT U DO !! even if i try to keep it quiet, you still somehow manage to come in with like this one cute positivity ask or even just a cute pinterest pin for me to look at ( which btw YOUR AESTHETIC SENSE IS ALWAYS ON POINT !! ) AND HOLY HECK IT BRIGHTENS UP MY DAY LIKE U WOULDN’T BELIEVE. its like a guaranteed HAPPY switch for me, that just turns my day from :( to :D :”> :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD JUST LIKE THAT. you have helped me through so many of my days, even without trying. you’ve always supported me and tried your best to cheer me up, offering me a shoulder to cry on or vent to when you knew things were rough. and you’ve always been so, so understanding of me and my current predicament THAT I DON’T KNOW AT THIS POINT HOW YOU PUT UP WITH ME BECAUSE IM THE WORST AND MOST UNRELIABLE PERSON EVER AND ITS TERRIBLE AND IM SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR NEVER GIVING UP ON ME :(((( YOU ALWAYS SPARK THE WARMEST LIGHT IN MY HEART AND I NEVER FAIL TO SMILE WHEN I SEE A MESSAGE FROM YOU. AND ALL I WISH FOR IN THE FUTURE IS THE GENUINE HOPE THAT IM ABLE TO DO THE SAME FOR YOU. i know you’re still uncertain of your work and what you do, and it hurts my heart to see you so anxious about things, and i know no amount of words might help take that frustration you feel away. but i must tell you, no matter what you write - your heart and your soul has always been able to resonate so intensely through your writing and your muses, that it always takes those of us that that get the chance to read it on a trip! one that we’re very reluctant to get off of, and one where we’re constantly looking forward to whatever else you’ve got up your sleeve. whatever else you have in mind to do, scaley, i hope you’re given the chance to do it, because i know you’ll be a success at it either way. thank you for always being there for me, and for always being there for so many of us that need a smile or a cheer just to get us through our days. i hope that in the coming year, i can be more present as your friend, and i hope i can be that same source of joy for you as well. 

@soulmauled​ // SHIROOOOO !!! hello hello hi hi hi can i smother you in hugs for YEARS PLEASE YOU MAKE ME SO HAPPY ALL THE TIME AND IM SO HAPPY YOU’RE AROUND HONESTLY !! i know we don’t get to talk too much and that when we reply to each other its usually always more then a few days or weeks later but dhbashdbsah DO U KNOW I DON’T MIND AT ALL?? because so long as we get to chat once in a blue moon, that’s enough to make me happy! you’re honestly the absolute sweetest person i have ever met, and any time i get an ask for a chat from you, you’ve always been able to make me giggle, no matter how sad i might have been initially. you make my heart feel lighter, and i’m always glad when i get to hear of how you’re doing, and i’m always hoping that things are going well for you. thank you for always sending me things to answer from your boys, and for always doing your best to answer the things i manage to send you as well! i appreciate you doing the memes i tag you in all the time too because reading your results always makes me happy! idk honestly you’re just - you’re just a very sweet and soft presence to me all the time, and being able to be your friend is a blessing i wouldn’t exchange the world for and i appreciate you so very, very much! i hope your 2019 is an incredible year for you in all the ways possible, and i wish you a lot of happiness and good health! ALSO I WISH TO PROVIDE YOU WITH MORE JACKIE MOMENTS BECAUSE JACKIE BEING WITH YOUR BOYS IS A GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING AND I RESOLVE TO PROVIDE MORE OF IT FOR THE BOTH OF THEM DHSBADHBSAH BLESS 

@bathed-in-red // RO !!!! SNUGGLES YOU FOREVER OH MY GOSH, I MISS YOU. THANK YOU FOR POPPING IN EVERY SO OFTEN WITH THE LIKES AND THE ASKS. THANK YOU FOR STILL BEING HERE AND FOR STILL SUPPORTING ME AND BEING AROUND. i miss writing with you so much and i hope we get the chance to do so again in the future. i hope things are going better for you in every way, and i hope your mum is doing well. i know things have been rough for you too and i wish 2019 would be better for both of us. please take care of yourself always and be safe. im so happy to see you every now and then honestly, and though we dont always get the chance to talk, im happy in the moments we do. i know we’re both busy as fuck and potentially always hibernating BUT. I ADORE YOU ALWAYS AND IM SO HAPPY THAT EVEN IF WE SPEND DAYS AND MONTHS APART, YOU’RE ALWAYS SOMEONE I KNOW I CAN DEPEND ON. thanks for being there. thanks for watching out for me. i hope things get better for you too and if you ever need anything on my end, please let me know. i’ll do whatever i can to be there for you, as best as can be. i adore you ro, and i miss you and roppi loads. take care always and be safe and ilyyyyy BIGGEST HUGGIES AND SNUGGLES HAPPIEST OF NEW YEARS TO YOU BBY YOU’RE THE BEST!

@valorandheart // KELLYY !!! HI HELLO EXCUSE ME DO U KNOW HOW HAPPY YOU MANAGE TO MAKE ME ALL THE DAMN TIME?? whether its with jamie or sanford, reading your messages or little comments and asks about the most random of the things i post always has the amazing ability to perk me up and make me laugh out loud whenever i get the chance to read them !! you’re such an incredibly uplifting and joyful person honestly, and im so happy we get to write together and plot together EVEN IF I POOF INTO NONEXISTENCE AND GET BACK TO THINGS IN LIKE A MONTH OR TWO ( IM SO SORRY !!! ) ITS ALWAYS INTERACTIONS WITH YOU THAT ALWAYS MAKE ME FEEL SO LIGHT AND HAPPY AND HONESTLY YOU’RE HILARIOUS AND FUN AND ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL IN EVERY WAY !! i’m so lucky that i’ve been able to write this plot out with you, even if ITS TAKING ME YEARS TO RESPOND TO THINGS. AND OUR PAIR IS ALWAYS ON A TURBULENT ROLLER COASTER THAT WE CANT ALWAYS FIGURE OUT BUT SOMEHOW THEY MANAGE TO MAKE IT WORK. its been such a joy for me this whole while though honestly speaking, because i’ve been able to see jackie grow from her experiences with jamie, and learn from him and somehow even try to strive to be a better person because of him. she’s still a mess, but she feels a little more whole, a little more not so lost when she’s with him, and this kind of development is the kind of thing I DREAM FOR. and i can’t wait to see where they end up!! or rather I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHEN THEY FINALLY GET A KISS IN AND ALSO WHEN THEY EVENTUALLY STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM THEIR FEELINGS OKAY IT’LL BE AMAZING !! also I WANT TO SEE SANFORD AND JACKIE INTERACT AND YELL AT EACH OTHER OKAY ITS A NEED AT THIS POINT WE BETTER DO SOMETHING IN 2019 OR ELSE IMMA SCREAM IN ALL HEADERS OKIE THAT WOULD BE BAD FOR THE BOTH OF US IT CANNOT HAPPEN EVER DHSABDHAS WE’LL WORK ON THIS OKAY OKAY THANK YOU WHOOOO !! 

@weiwuxiian // LIGHT HI HELLO I KNOW I ALREADY TOLD U EVERYTHING IN THE TAGS THE OTHER DAY ON YOUR OWN END OF YEAR THING SO ILL TRY TO MAKE THIS QUICK, AHEM !! i just want to say THANK YOU. for being around for being my friend. i know i’m not the best person at keeping in contact at all, which is totally bad considering we have the same timezone, but i really really appreciate you being around !! being able to be your friend and also getting to write with you! you have such a brightness about you that is so wonderful to see in all honesty, and any muse you pick up somehow manages to radiate it! you are also so very sensible and kind, and i’m very lucky that we were able to get our muses to connect the way they did. libra and jackie will always be one of my favorite ships, and i know i still have some things i owe for him in my ask box, and even if you’re on hiatus with him rn, i must tell you that seeing you so happy on wwx is just as interesting for me as seeing you on libra. i hope school and everything is going well for you, i hope you were able to achieve your goals for the year but also get some time to rest for yourself. i really look up to you in all honesty, you’re one of my biggest inspirations and i hope we get to write our muses together again someday soon. also i hope we get to plot and chat lots again in the future hihi i really miss talking to you tbh !! i hope your new years is amazing and i just gotta say - i’m so thankful to have you as my friend! thankful and lucky and blessed that i was able to meet you this year and get to know you the way i did, and i so constantly wish you all the best!! 

@richkicl // hello jae !!! gosh, i know its been a hell of a long time since we’ve spoken properly, but i hope you’ve been doing well !! we’ve missed you a ton since you’ve left, but we’ve also been cheering you on all this time even though you’ve been away! i’ve been rooting for you, and i know your absence on the dashboard was felt, but i hope you’ve been well and things have gotten better for you in the time that’s passed. I STILL OWE YOU A THREAD FOR SHOYA, BUT IDK IF YOU’RE STILL UP FOR DOING IT BUT IF YOU AREN’T THATS OKIE DOKIE !! i just hope you’re doing okay, honestly. thank you for always offering me a chance to talk about my problems, and for always giving me such solid advice when i need it. you’re one person who’s always been very rational but also so enthusiastic and kind, and being able to plot and write with you has always been the greatest fun for me. i look forward to seeing you around again soon, but please always take your time no matter what. i wish you well, and i wish you an amazing new year. thank you for always making me laugh, and for encouraging me to be more open and be more upbeat. honestly, its because i met you that i feel as comfortable as i do today, and i want to thank you for being such a positive individual, more then anything else. you’re amazing and i adore you, and im so lucky i’ve had the chance to be your friend!! i hope we get to talk again soon. HAPPY NEW YEAR, AND I MISS YOU !! 

@astrumtristis // LULU. HI I MISS YOU. i miss you a lot and gosh, its been a while. i wish we spoke more often, as much as we used to honestly. things seemed a lot simpler back then, tbh. i know things have been going rough for you lately, and --- i’m really sorry that things have turned out the way they did. i want to give you a small thank you however, because somehow, despite all your own troubles, you’ve managed to take some time out to give me your support as well. honestly, you’ve been a prominent part of the reason i was able to get through the year, as your constant strength has given me the will to keep moving forward. my only hope is that through your own burdens, i might be able to provide that same amount of support to you, as much as i am able to from so far away. the things you’ll be facing from now on will be difficult, more so then anything i’ve ever had to face, but i’ve always been in awe of your strength and your vitality, lulu, and i hope in even the smallest of ways - i might be able to somehow support you and make the road ahead easier for you to traverse in any way possible. please let me know if you ever need a friend. if you ever need anything at all. i’m here for you, as much as you might need me. no matter what, you have my thoughts and my well wishes for everything to get better for you in the end. you’re strong lulu, one of the strongest people i know, and you can surmount this. we’ll fight the universe together if you need backup !! just say the word and i’m there !! do your best lulu, and i hope the next year, and every year after - is the best ever. happy new year bby !!

@vxtxation​ // MIKA !!! oh my gosh where do i even start ?? do you know, you are one of those people i just absolutely look up to no matter what? i’ve always admired your work when i first saw you writing with jae, and idk how we got to being friends but !! IM SO HAPPY WE BECAME FRIENDS TBH. we dont’ talk too much but holy heck i gotta say ALL YOUR MESSAGES ALWAYS MAKE ME SO HAPPY. youre just such a positive person who’s honestly really really cool !! not to mention talented in both writing and art !! i’ve told you this before but your art has always so incredibly wonderful to me! the expressions you give them, the creativity in their situations and the emotion is them is so very clear to anyone who sees it, i feel so ?? lucky ?? to have been on the receiving end of some your work?? I STILL KEEP THEM IN MY PHONE OKAY. also i look back on that one happy but crying jackie pic and my heart just !! gets all warm and light and i want to hug you so so much for that one !! THAT WAS. PERFECTION. IN A PICTURE. AND I DONT KNOW WHAT I DID TO DESERVE IT BUT IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME. it stood out at a time when i needed support the most, and you didn’t have to but you did and GOD IM JUST REALLY LUCKY. TO HAVE THE CHANCE TO BE YOUR FRIEND. i hope to see so much more of your work in the year to come and i hope 2019 is kind to you. I HOPE WE GET TO WRITE A LOT MORE TOGETHER TOO IM NOT GIVING YOU NO 6 MONTH DELAY ANYMORE I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL NOT ALLOW IT. THANKS FOR BEING PATIENT ALL THROUGHOUT AND FOR BEING SO SUPPORTIVE. YOU’RE INCREDIBLE AND AMAZING AND I APPRECIATE YOU MORE THEN YOU KNOW. THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU AND I HOPE YOU HAVE THE HAPPIEST NEW YEAR IN THE WORLD !!

@tragicalyouth // ASH BBY !!! IM SO GLAD YOU’RE BACK !! i know its been a while since we’ve written together or plotted together or even chatted at all, but i’m hoping we get the chance to do so again soon !! i’m glad to see you picking things up where they left off, and to see you happy and well. im looking forward to more atsu and jackie interactions soon, and i hope they’re able to advance from their convoluted mess of frenemy/crush hahahaha !! they’re still one of my favorite pairings and im looking forward to seeing whatever is in store for them in the future !! i hope your 2019 goes really well, and you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. thanks for always sending me asks as well, I STILL HAVE SOME TO ANSWER FROM YOU BECAUSE I DROPPED THE BALL ON RP STUFF IN JUNE AND IM STILL CATCHING UP BUT IM LOOKING FORWARD TO IT !! i hope we get to chat lots soon and i hope i get to see a lot more of you on the dashboard in the year to come! thank you for always being so supportive and kind as well, and i’m wishing the best for you too! do your best, and happy new year bby !! YOU DESERVE ONLY THE GREATEST! 

anyway THATS ALL I WAS GONNA DO THIS WHEN I REACHED 500 FOLLOWERS AND IM LIKE 45 FOLLOWERS FROM THAT AND I DONT CARE ABOUT THE COUNT ANYMORE I HAVEN’T SQUEALED ABOUT PEOPLE ALL YEAR THIS IS MY CONTRIBUTION TO THE FANGIRL OF MY MUTUALS OKAY I LOVE YOU ALL OKAY HAPPY NEW YEAR AND HAVE THE BEST YEAR EVER ALL THE LOVE AND GAMBATTE !!

[insane-control-room]

You + Me + Ink Kids = Family

Here is some art for this!

(about 2200 words)

Joey and Henry share a moment. Or at least they try to.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the croon came out of nowhere, Henry’s arms wrapping around Joey’s shoulders, a nip on his pointed ears. A stifled gasp. Henry smirked, rubbing his hands up and down on his husband’s chest. “You look so nice now, my husband….”

Husband.

What a pleasant word. Thank god they lived near a coast and Bertrum owned a boat. Finding loopholes in laws was Joey’s expertise, and within a year, they were legally married through Captain’s Laws, and no American judge could argue with the sanctity (though they did attempt to revoke Bertrum’s clergy hood, but to no avail as he had received his ordinance in Britain).

“Husband.” Joey murmured, setting down his pen, leaning his head back onto Henry’s shoulder. “I love you, but what’s with the sudden affection?”

“Nothin’,” Henry rubbed his face on his neck gently. “Just thinking about how time is changed… first you were my friend, then my business partner, then my best friend, then my infatuation, then my head and heart ache, and then my crush… remember what came next?”

“It wasn’t boyfriend, that’s for sure,” Joey laughed quietly, Henry chuckling and kissing his hairline. “Oh, it was not that.”

“Oh, you surely remember what I called you, don’t you?” Henry rose an eyebrow and Joey flushed, nodding with a swallow. “Ah, yes. You were my pretty little affair. My lover. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, or better yet, I’d ensnare you here in the studio, trap you in a hidden away room and revel in your moans and whines, my pretty little affair, so sweetly sinful. Your stuttering protests of how I was a married man killed by touches and kisses. Your worries over my daughter silenced by skin on skin. You were my secret pretty little affair. Now, you’re my beautiful tall husband.”

“I love you,” was all Joey managed to breathe. Henry chuckled again, pulling Joey out of his seat. “W-what are you doing?”

“Planning on getting you in bed,” Henry replied easily. Joey let out a hysterical laugh. Henry pushed him against the wall, pulling his legs out from under him to put them on the same height. “What’s so funny, darling?”

“We are at work, and it’s one in the afternoon,” Joey answered in a hushed whisper, blush flowing through his face. Henry smirked and swooped to bite the side of Joey’s neck, licking it and sucking on the skin. Joey gasped, his back arching. “H-Henry! Oh my… hn, ah! N-not so fast! You’re gonna make me-e…. s-slow down, Hen, please!”

“Babe, I want you in bed, I’ve been patient, I ain’t stoppin’,” Henry told him, his voice reverberating against his throat, eliciting a moan. Joey quietly asked him to slow again, and Henry acquiesced, removing his mouth from his neck, trailing a hand down his arm to grip his wrist, holding him to the wall with his hips. With his free hand, he traced Joey’s lips. “So pretty… so delicious… and all mine.”

“Oh, Henry, I always have been,” Joey panted, trying to catch his breath from Henry’s attack on his neck, “I’ve always been yours.”

“Your lips say such sweet lies,” Henry purred, Joey flushing rapidly. “I love it when you tell the truth like this….”

“I love you, Henry,” he smiled lightly, leaning to kiss him softly, pulling back after a moment. “I could never lie to you… you know me too well.”

“I do, don’t I?” he destroyed Joey with those flashing eyes. He felt himself go lax, there was no denying Henry any longer. Henry lifted his head with a finger, and he positively melted. “Yes?”

“Yes, please,” Joey whispered, the blush already gone, lost in love. Henry leaned to him, raising an eyebrow, waiting patiently for Joey to finish his sentence. Now the blush inched back. “Please kiss me.”

The shorter did not wait an instant, their mouths connecting softly. Joey sighed, eyes closing, in pure love. Henry bit his lips, gently but possessively, a silent claim. His hards caught Joey’s free wrist, gripping them together in one hand, using the other to roam the chicano’s skin. He Joey felt Henry grin against his lips as he dipped his thumb into his pants, tracing small hearts along his waist, going further into cloth with every iteration. That son of a… ohhhh, but he felt so good…. Henry chuckled at the groan that escaped Joey, pressing his hips harder on Joey’s, the taller man’s legs wrapped around him and his back flush against the wall. Joey whined, trying to entangle his hands in golden locks or grip a muscled arm, but both his wrists were pinned above his head rendering that impossible. In replacement, he turned his face away from Henry.

“Doll, Joey, let me take care of you,” Henry softly insisted, nuzzling his neck. Joey breathed, leaning his head back. “C’mon….”

“Just give me a second,” Joey replied quietly, shivering. Henry kissed his shoulder, making his way up to his cheek. “Ngh… I did tell you to slow down….”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Henry murmured. “I keep forgetting not to overstimulate you… heh, even right after you reminded me.”

“It’s alright, darling,” Joey tilted his head to press kisses onto his hairline. “Okay. You can continue now, but please, can we go home? Someone could walk in on u-AH! H-ha! Ohh, f-fuck…. Ngh, ah… Henry…!”

Henry smirked, sucking on Joey’s collar, tightening his hold on the taller’s wrists and raising him higher against the wall, rolling his hips onto Joey’s.

“See babe?” he purred into his ear, slowly lowering him to ease his arms. Joey kissed him, breath coming in small huffs. “No one’s walking in o-”

“Whatchya two up ta?” Bendy’s bouncy young tones inquired. Joey, having forgotten about their inky triplets, started against Henry, his fight or flight instincts going into flight overdrive as he lunged forward, knocking over himself and Henry. Henry caught him before he landed face first on the floor. Bendy tilted his head a full ninety degrees to inspect them. “What’re ya doin’, dads?”

Joey found talking an impossibility from fluster, so he looked beseechingly and nervously toward Henry. The man gaped back at him, before realizing the severity of Joey’s stark muteness, and he slapped together the first thing that could make logical sense.

“We were… uh…” he stumbled over the words, his arm involuntarily tightening around Joey’s body. “Wrestling! Yeah! We, uh, ha, were wrestling. For adults.”

“Weird kinda wrestling, if ya ask me,” Bendy commented, frowning. He shrugged and grinned. “But who am I to judge?”

“You are not to judge, since you are our son,” Henry managed to continue, his voice wavering, his face ablaze, Joey’s mimicking the flush even worse than he. “Now, Bendy, you go off and find your siblings. You’re gonna stay with your Grauntie and Grunkle tonight.”

“Really!?” Bendy’s toon cut maroon eyes lit up. In both a literal and figurative sense. “Imma go tell Linda, Bo and Alice!”

“Tell Bertrum and Lacie, too!” Henry called after him. He noticed Joey’s shook look. “What?”

“Wrestling?” his husband inquired, cocking an eyebrow. “Of all things… Henry, I love you, but wrestling? Have you seen my body?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry muttered, slipping his hands into Joey’s shirt. Joey gasped. “Every beautiful inch of it. I might need to revisit the gallery and refresh my memory, though.”

Joey squeaked, unable to reply as Henry’s hand found the curve of his thigh to dwell on, gently stroking it.

“Now that our little dear demon is gone,” Henry mused, “can I get back to trying to get you to heaven in bed?”

“Tu diablo, you don’t need to,” Joey struggled to find the right words, “to make that sound so… so sexual!”

“Joey. Babe. Darlin’. That’s exactly what it is,” Henry, amused, remarked. Joey flushed, looking away and forcing himself not to smile, failing awfully. “So, Johan, my handsome tall husband, can I make you feel good?”

“You always do, no matter what,” Joey answered. Henry did not seem impressed, though he was rather bemused Joey’s expression, loving and doting. Henry rose an eyebrow and the leg between Joey’s. Joey blushed, hurriedly getting up and pulling Henry with him, dragging him to the exit of the office. “Let’s at least get to a bed for that to happen, Henry.”

“Mmm, I’m impatient though,” he reflected, pushing Joey against the door as he tried to open it. He pressed kisses onto his back, wrapping his arms around him. Joey muttered something in spanish, twisting in his hold to lean and take him into his own arms, lifting him with a silenced grunt, Henry yelping in surprise as he found his feet off the ground and taken to quite a distance from the ground. He quickly opened the door, still holding Henry with one arm as he briskly walked down the hall. Henry took this opportunity to kiss his face while not obscuring his partner in everything’s vision, pressing his lips to his temple and cheek and jawline, carefully avoiding that sweet spot under his ear as to not initiate a system shut down. Someone almost bumped into them, clearly meaning to ask Joey something. Henry grinned at the music director, not pausing in his administrations to Joey’s cheek and ear. “Oh, hey, Sammy.”

“Hello, Mr. Stein, Mr. Drew,” he greeted, amused, referring to both with each name. “Could I ask some things about the music for the upcoming episode?”

“Certainly,” Joey, his voice straining and much higher than usual, replied. Henry smirked, keeping eye contact with Sammy as he kissed and bit Joey’s neck. Sammy grinned, unable to keep a straight face at Joey’s absolute fluster. After a few seconds of silence, Joey stamped his foot, flushed and embarrassed.  “Hurry up, Samuel!”

“Alright, alright,” Sammy chuckled. “Did you want the episode to be more bass heavy or treble heavy?”

“Um… treble,” Joey nodded, regretting the action instantly, Henry’s mouth grazing up and down his neck, sending sparks through his whole body. Sammy nearly laughed aloud at Joey’s suddenly blank expression, knowing that inside he was a dumpster fire. “Was th-there anything else?”

“I think I’ll figure it out from here, thanks,” he hummed. He winked at them. “Have fun.”

Joey did not reply, he simply rushed from the studio as fast as he could, focusing getting home as quickly as possible, now glad for the time of day, as no one was out.

He slammed the door with his foot, pressing Henry to the wall, panting, slowly sinking down the soft paint colored wall. Henry lowered his legs to support them, Joey becoming the one held. He kissed him, just nice and sweet.

He swayed as he carried Joey to their room, still kissing him, deepening it as he set him on their bed. He pulled away, admiring at his beautiful almost purple blush. Joey’s eyes slowly opened, and Henry kissed away the tears that threatened to leak from those gorgeous puce orbs.

“Don’t cry, love,” Henry murmured.

“Sorry, honey,” Joey whispered, wiping at his eyes. “I’m crying because I’m so happy… people can die from happiness, right? I feel so far away….”

“Well, I’m right here, and you’re here with me.”

“I know… I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Bendy tramped down the stairs, singing quietly to himself. When the amusement park came into his sight, he picked up speed, yelling, “I’m here!”

Bertrum turned barely in time to catch his ‘great nephew’ in his arms, stumbling back several feet from the shockwave.

“Hey Grunkle Bertrum!” he happily greeted, hugging him tightly. “Dad said me an’ Ali and Bo an’ Linda are stayin’ with you and Grauntie Lacie tonight!”

“Did he now?” Bertrum asked, adjusting his hold on his (heavily spoiled) nephew. “Lacie, my dear, we have four little guests tonight.”

“Ugh, Stein owes us,” Lacie grumbled, but smiled. Linda, beside hir, bounced Psyche on her lap gently, the baby gurgling contentedly, Alice making faces at them. “It’s nice to have the help, y’know, but damn… ah, oh well.”

Both she and Bertrum looked tired. Psyche, growing into their powers, abused them constantly, and their poor parents had to put up with all sorts of demigod insanity. (Lacie nearly lost it the first time she found them on the ceiling.)

Boris smiled, resting his head on Lacie’s lap. She patted his head, and he signed, ‘hungry.’

“You’re always hungry, little wolf of mine,” Bertrum remarked, but still motioned to him, and they went, he still holding Bendy, to the pub room to get food for him.

Alice glanced up at her aunt and Linda, a devious smirk spreading on her pink lips.

“I bet Dad and Pap are gonna fuck,” the angel said, raising an eyebrow and grinning. Lacie kept a straight face and sighed; this was normal. Linda smiled a bit, and it bloomed into a full ear to ear grin. “I bet you ten dollars.”

“Deal, but how would we know?” Linda pointed out, Psyche nomming on Alice’s halo, enjoying the tingle. Alice pondered. “It’s not like they’ll tell us.”

“If Papa has a hard time walking tomorrow,” Alice concluded, grinning. Lacie laughed and shook hir head slightly. “What?”

“Y’know Johan always has a hard time walkin’,” Lacie chuckled. “So I think that ain’t gonna work for ya.”

Alice was silent for a minute.

She looked at Lacie with solemn eyes.

“You ask them, then.”

[emeraldwaves]

Title: Eternity Together Rating: T Word Count:  8.107 Read on AO3 Summary:   When Cloud Strife gets his soulmark, he starts styling his hair a very particular way, in hopes of meeting his soulmate. Meanwhile Zack Fair struggles to find his own soulmate since his mark is the most generic phrase possible.

Full fic under the the cut!! @its-love-u-asshole and @youaremynewdream read this ahead of time and it’s based on the prompt  "the first thing your soulmate will say is written on your wrist" for the clack discord server challenge.

Cloud starts styling his hair for a reason.

Leaning forward, he brushes his fingers over the blond pieces which drape next to his cheek. The rest is styled into sharp blond spikes, done up with lots of gel and an excessive amount of hairspray. It takes him at least an extra thirty minutes every morning, at least.

But... it's worth it.

Yes, staring at his stupid face in the mirror for approximately thirty extra minutes is worth it to Cloud if it means he might have an easier time finding his soulmate.

The words had appeared on his wrist the day before his first day of high school. He'd winced, the letters searing into his skin like a tattoo encircling his wrist. He'd always been a little skeptical of the whole soulmate thing. Not everyone had one after all, and Cloud wasn't sure why he of all people deserved a soulmate, but now that he knew he had one, he couldn't really complain.

Though his sentence does leave a little bit to be desired.

 Your hair is so spiky!

At the time the message had appeared, Cloud hadn't even had spiky hair, so immediately he knew he'd have to change that if he ever wanted to meet his soulmate.

For the first few days of high school, he doesn't care much. Just because the words appeared before high school started doesn't mean he will find this person right away. In fact, it could be years before he actually finds the person who will say those fateful words to him.

Instead, he spends the first week leaving his hair flat and wearing a small bracelet to cover the black script on his wrist. Until you actually find your soulmate, most people wear something to cover it up; sweatbands, cuffs, bracelets, anything to keep the words hidden. Soulmates are intimate, and some people prefer not to speak about theirs. Some people wear bracelets simply to hide not having a soulmate; at least not yet.

For awhile, most theorized soulmate marks appeared when a person hit puberty, since many people's marks are inscribed around the middle or high school age. However, there are some people who don't get marks until well into their twenties or thirties, and some never get them at all.

Admittedly, Cloud is a little relieved he has a soulmate. The idea is, well, kinda cool? A person you're specifically meant to be with according to the universe? Cloud never really gave it much thought until now; when he starts styling his hair.

At least his hair looks good like this.

After the first week of school Cloud decides to give it a shot. It's high school after all, a perfect time to reinvent himself if he wants, and he sees no harm in at least trying. He isn't going to meet his soulmate by having flat, boring hair.

Tifa, of course, is especially shocked by the new look when he walks into school that first morning.

"Cloud!" she exclaims. She slams her hand on the flat top of her desk, making him jump a bit. "What did you do to your hair!?" Well, his soulmate isn't Tifa. He's already known for quite sometime, since he'd met her when they were kids.

His eyes flick towards her wrist, covered by a small black band. Does Tifa have a soulmate? He silently wonders what her wrist could possibly say.

He shrugs. "Nothing, just trying something different."

"Different?" she mutters, shaking her head. "It certainly... is different..." she mumbles, tilting her head to look at him.

"It's badass," he grumbles, folding his arms.

"Suuuure~" she hums, letting him have this one for now.

Maybe it looks stupid. He glances at the black wrist band and swallows. Whenever he reads the text, he always thinks of it being said in a positive tone; something like, 'Your hair is so spiky! WOW! So cool!'. But now he wonders if maybe it's said in disgust.. 'Your hair is so spiky... gross. Why would you do that?'

Turning his chair around fast, he glances at Tifa. "Does it look stupid?" he asks, mostly under his breath. It's not like he needs Tifa's approval to change his hair, but he knows she'll be honest with him.

"Mmmm..." she hums. Her arms cross over one another and she tilts her head back and forth, analyzing the various spikes. "Not exactly," she says finally. "I think it just surprised me. You look good," she chuckles. "Did I freak you out?"

Cloud's lips turn down into a pout. "No. I just... didn't run it by anyone before doing it."

"Your mom didn't have anything to say?" she asks incredulously.

"Nah... I left before she could see it," he shrugs.

"She might kill you, you know," she points out, and Cloud nods, turning back around. He'd considered that, but the consequences aren't enough to stop him.

The class starts, and Cloud immediately spaces out. Science has never been his strong subject. Then again, Cloud spaces out during most classes.

His eyes immediately fall on his black wristband. Sometimes when he's home alone, he traces his pointer finger over the gentle script which is ingrained in his skin. The text flows across his pale wrist, as though it's a natural part of his body, meant to be there since birth despite being added so much later.

He's imagined so many scenarios. A girl reaching up to try and touch the top of his head while she whispers in awe about how spiky his blond locks are. A guy telling him he wishes he had hair as cool as his. Okay, those two are probably a little ridiculous, but Cloud likes to dream.

Sometimes he tries to remember the first thing Tifa ever said to him. They've been friends forever, so in a way, it would make sense for her to be his soulmate, but he can't recall the words. Knowing Tifa, she was probably nagging him about something before she even met him. Supposedly, you're meant to get the mark before you meet your soulmate though. So, no, there's no way Tifa is his soulmate.

He sighs, his fingers rubbing at the hair lying against his cheek once again. It's becoming a bad habit.

That whole first day of his new hairstyle, Cloud feels so anxious he wants to throw up. Like he's on a train and his whole body is wobbling with the movement of the wheels clacking against the tracks. Anytime someone speaks to him he anticipates the sentence, but it never comes.

His soulmate is out there somewhere, he just doesn't know where to begin looking for them.

~~

The problem is, Zack has a soulmate, but he has no idea how to find them. His first sentence is incredibly generic. So much so, Zack often finds himself in a few awkward situations where he stares at the person he is talking to expectantly, as if they are the ones who are supposed to notice their potential soulmate is standing directly in front of them.

You see, Zack's wrist has one word on it and one word alone: Yeah. Nothing else, just 'Yeah'. And honestly, it's been a damn confusing mess ever since he got to high school a year ago.

Now a second year, he's over it. Mostly. He thinks about it from time to time when he talks to someone for the first time and they respond with a casual, 'Yeah', thinking nothing of it. A little spark of excitement flutters his heart, makes it skip a beat, but when the conversation continues like normal, Zack lets it go a lot faster than he used to.

"I know that look," Angeal Hewley says, leaning against the locker as Zack tugs his socks on. "Another?"

"Another," Zack sighs, flopping back against the bench. "Angeal," he whines. "You and Genesis are so lucky you found each other so easily."

"Ah yes. Lucky is definitely the word I would use," Angeal muses sarcastically. "Zack, it was a very different situation."

Zack shoots up and glances at the writing on Angeal's wrist. He can't quite make out what it says, but he knows it's a quote from Loveless. Poetic, like an actual tattoo someone would get, not just a soulmark. And Genesis, Zack knows what his says; 'Aren't you kind of young to have read Loveless?'

Apparently Genesis read the book the second his soulmark appeared right before middle school. He recited quotes upon meeting people, until he met Angeal that was. Still, the guy spewed off verses left and right anyway, much to Angeal's chagrin.

"Well yeah!" he sighs. "You guys had really specific things written on your wrists! There was no mistaking it. I feel like I think my soulmate is everyone I meet!"

"Maybe you should stop starting conversations by asking things that can be answered with the word 'Yeah'," Angeal suggests with a smirk.

Zack opens his mouth to retort, but quickly shuts it. It's not a bad idea, his captain has a point, but knowing him he won't remember when he actually goes to talk to new people. "Or maybe I should just stop talking to people altogether," he pouts.

Angeal sighs. "Zack, it's not imperative you meet your soulmate right now." Easy for him to say when he already knows who his is. He knows Angeal is right though. Some people don't find their soulmate until way into adulthood. He's lucky to have even gotten a mark in the first place. Still, Zack doesn't know how much more he can take of making assumptions when people respond to him for the first time with a simple 'Yeah'.

"Okay, but what if I miss them! What if they're right here all along and I graduate, head to the city and never meet them!" Everytime he thinks he's over it, he's not.

Angeal steps forward and places his hand on Zack's shoulder. "Wouldn't you say the point of having a soulmate is to eventually find them so you can complete each other or... whatever it is they say?"

Zack blinks and stares at Angeal for a moment. He supposes the third year is right, but Zack finds it hard to believe everyone finds their soulmate. There have to be some people that miss each other by some strange happenstance, right? What if he's in the .001% who never meet their soulmates?!

"But what if she's this super cute girl, and we could be dating right now?! Don't you understand I could be missing out!?" Zack exclaims. It's easier to laugh than to think too deeply about it.

Angeal's face falls and he shoves his shoulder. "Put on your shoes, practice is about to start." He turns from him to head to the lacrosse field and Zack scrambles to put his shoes on, chasing after his captain.

"Wait! Angeal!" he calls out, running up to him fast. "So... if you think that way about soulmates, does that mean Genesis completes you?" he asks with a playful smirk.

"No." Angeal answers immediately, and in a flat tone.

"Whaaaaat?" Zack asks, nudging his shoulder. "Why not?"

"We're... different," Angeal mutters, but Zack can see the slight hint of pink on his cheeks.

"Aw c'mon! I know you love him," Zack teases, and Angeal walks ahead of him in complete silence. Genesis may get on Angeal's nerves, but Zack's seen the way they interact; they need each other. Angeal keeps Genesis in check and Genesis helps Angeal loosen up a bit, it's perfect in their own weird way.

Glancing down at his knees Zack freezes. "Ah! Dammit, I forgot my knee brace!" he calls to Angeal. "I'll be right back."

"Hurry Zack," he snorts, but really Zack can tell Angeal is relieved he doesn't have to listen to Zack tease him about Genesis anymore.

He dashes back into the school, heading for the locker room when he practically slams into a shorter blond boy, their bodies colliding. Zack groans, stepping back as he rubs his face ready to apologize. Instead, he’s silent, unable to tear his eyes away from the blond's hair. It's so bright, a light blond Zack has rarely seen before, and it's so perfectly spiked, like each portion was set in place with the utmost care (way more defined than the messy black mop on the top of his own head).

The words slip out before Zack even realizes he's speaking. "Your hair is so spiky!"

The blond blinks his eyes a few times, his lips parting as he stares at Zack. His eyes are a beautiful bright blue color, standing out strongly against his pale skin and hair. He looks shocked, a little dazed maybe, still beautiful, but Zack wonders if he's hurt. Well, he did smack into the blond pretty hard...

Instead the boy opens his mouth and incredulously responds with a single, "Yeah."

~~

Everyone knows Zack Fair. Handsome, fun, great laugh, popular, Zack Fair is a giant list of things Cloud Strife is not.

And Zack Fair may or may not be Cloud's soulmate.

He says the line Cloud has been waiting to hear for weeks now: "Your hair is so spiky!"

And Cloud is honestly so shocked, his mouth open wide. "Yeah," he replies finally, after taking a long pause. The two stare at each other in complete silence, and time has stopped for them, if only for a moment.

Zack's blue eyes begin to sparkle, his shimmering blues looking far too excited for someone who just ran into someone else. "Yeah?" he asks, his smile large and he leans forward towards Cloud.

Cloud can tell his face is bright red, and his heart throbs against his chest. Of all the people to potentially be his soulmate... Zack Fair is far too attractive for his own good. Cloud swallows, his eyes darting to the side. "I, uh... I..." What the hell is he supposed to say? 'Hey! You're my soulmate!' No. That's far too awkward, and of course Zack will be disappointed. He's probably been waiting for so long...

Instead, Cloud bows his head. "I-I'm sorry..." Walking around Zack, he makes his way down the hall heading out to the front of the school. Zack calls after him, but Cloud doesn't turn around or stop. What's the point...

Zack is probably hoping for some cute girl, or, well, anyone cooler than Cloud is.

He runs a little faster, away from the school.

Cloud sees Tifa standing by the front gate, looking at her phone, and he knows she's waiting for him. They've been walking to and from school together for as long as Cloud can remember, but today he wishes he could breeze right past her. Tifa is too intuitive, especially when it comes to him, and Cloud knows she's going to ask about his strange behavior.

"Cloud!" she calls out, waving to him. She's got a big smile on her face, and she tucks her phone into her backpack. "You ready?"

"Uh, yeah..." he says softly. Maybe if he acts as naturally as possible, Tifa won't notice.

"You okay?" Dammit. She's peering towards him, her dark hair draping over her shoulder and Cloud continues walking.

"Fine," he replies as flatly as he can. He wishes he could calm his heart down at the very least, but he keeps thinking about Zack's blue eyes and the excitement they held within them.

"Nope! No way you're fine," Tifa says, shaking her head back and forth. "Something is bugging you."

"Tifa, I-"

"Your cheeks are totally red, you're walking way faster than normal, and you won't even meet my eyes. You're hiding something Cloud Strife!" she says, and he curses her stupid people skills. He really should've known there was no way to fool her.

He rubs his fingers over the bracelet on his wrist, shrugging. "I just... had a weird run-in is all."

"A weird run-in? With who?" He can feel her eyes all over his body, practically digging under his skin for information. Suddenly she gasps. "With your soulmate!" She points dramatically.

Jumping away from her, Cloud holds his hands up. "W-What?! No! Stop trying to make weird guesses about what's going on with me."

"Well," she grumbles, folding her arms. "It would be a lot easier if you could just talk to me about your feelings, but I know you won't do that. However, I do know you were playing with your wristband when you answered my question," she says looking rather proud of herself.

There's no escaping this, and Tifa will only be angrier later if Cloud doesn't tell her now.

He lets out a long drawn out sigh. "Fine, yes, I think I ran into my soulmate. Are you happy now?" he snorts, walking away from her as fast as he can.

"Oh my gosh! Who is it?! What did they say?!" she asks, immediately invested in her discovery.

"They don't know it's me..." he mumbles, "or at least I don't think they know."

"What?! How can they not know?" she asks. "I mean you had to have said the phrase on their wrist!"

Cloud bites his lip, just now realizing Tifa has point. But what the hell did he say to Zack? He thinks back on the interaction, the way his chest had slammed against Zack's and how he'd stared at him like a dumbfounded idiot when Zack had said the line written on Cloud's wrist. But what had Cloud said in response, that would've been the first thing he said to Zack...

He freezes.

"...I... I said... 'Yeah'."

"You... said... 'Yeah'?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah!?"

"Uh, yeah...?"

"Cloud!" Tifa yells. "Oh my gosh! This poor person has just had 'Yeah' on their wrist for years and probably has zero idea who their soulmate is. That could be anyone!" she exclaims.

"Well how was I supposed to know that would be what I said?!" he mutters indignantly.

"What does yours say?!" she asks, gently reaching forward to grab his wrist, but he yanks it back immediately. It's taboo to look at other people’s soulmarks before they reveal it themselves, and usually it's considered bad luck if someone else sees it before your soulmate does. Asking about it is normally frowned upon, but people talk about soulmarks all the time, so Cloud's actually a little shocked it took Tifa this long to ask him. She probably didn't want to be rude.

Gently rubbing at the wristband, he bites his lip. "It says 'Your hair is so spiky!'," he mumbles, knowing exactly how she's going to react.

A smirk pulls across her cheeks. "So that's why you changed your hairstyle."

"I dunno," he shrugs.

With a laugh, Tifa hooks their arms together, walking with him. "Aw Cloud! You're so cute! But explain something, if you just said 'Yeah', why didn't you tell them what your wrist said?" she asks. He can tell she's trying to be a little more understanding, her voice quieter.

"I... I dunno," he mumbles. "I just walked away..."

"That was silly!" she giggles. "You gotta tell them! They're not going to know it's you with just 'Yeah' written on their wrist," she snorts.

Cloud knows she's right, but he can't deal with seeing Zack's excited eyes fill with disappointment.

~~

"I know it's him," Zack sighs, flopping down into his seat, pulling out his lunch. It's been a week since his run-in with the adorable blond boy, and Zack can't stop thinking about him. He'd seen the way the blond had stared so intensely at him, his blue eyes wide and full of intrigue. It had taken him a moment to compose himself before he had spoken that fateful word, 'Yeah'.

"Then why haven't you said anything to him yet?" Aerith giggles, leaning towards him on her desk as she unties the small pouch she keeps her lunch in. "If you're so sure, that is."

Blushing, Zack leans back in his chair and folds his arms. "I haven't seen him!" he sighs. "But also... I dunno how to ask him. Especially cause I don't... exactly remember what I said to him first," he shrugs.

"That could be a problem," Aerith nods, and Zack sighs again.

"It's a big problem! It all happened so fast. I bumped into him accidentally... I think I said something about his hair... I dunno, but from the way he stared at me and said 'Yeah', I just know it's him! And damn Aerith, he is so pretty and so cute... I can't stop thinking about him!" he groans, rubbing his hands through his hair.

"I know, Zack," she says gently, her small fingers brushing over his arm. "You've told me the story every day for a week now."

"Oops..." he shrugs awkwardly. He knows he's being obnoxious. Genesis has told him to shut up on multiple occasions, and though Angeal and Aerith were far nicer and more tolerant of Zack's ramblings, he knew even they were getting sick of hearing about it. Mostly because no one understood why Zack wasn't talking to this boy already.

"It's okay," she smiles. "I just think you should talk to him."

"And say what?" he groans. "'Hey! We ran into each other the other day and you said 'Yeah' to me, which is on my wrist, but I don't remember what I said to you, so what's on your wrist? Are we soulmates?'" He takes a deep breath after pushing the long-winded sentence out on one breath.

"That sounds good," Aerith nods, her smile not changing.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Zack sighs, shaking his head back and forth.

"I bet Angeal thinks the same thing," she hums, her tone far too sing-songy for Zack's liking.

"Ugh," he groans. "He does..."

Aerith squeezes gently at his hand, her fingers close to where his mark is covered. "We just want you to be happy Zack. I know how long this has been bothering you, and if he's your chance to find your soulmate, I want you to take it," she nods.

"Yeah..." he whispers. "Me too." Curling his fingers into fists, Zack pulls his hand to his chest, looking determined. "Okay! I'll find him and I'll just... I'll just ask!" he smiles, realizing he shouted rather loud when people in the class turn to look at him.

"Maybe you could ask him at the dance tomorrow night," Aerith winks. "That would be pretty cute," she says.

Zack's lip quirks up into a smile. He can't help but imagine the cute blond in a suit, looking all fancy dressed up. He'd take him in his arms and pull him close, asking if he's his soulmate. The boy would say yes, and then they'd leave the dance and kiss under the stars! He sighs, his cheeks heating up. How perfect would that be!?

"Do it then," Aerith says, leaning forward to poke his cheek. "You obviously like the idea."

Rubbing at his face, he frowns. "Yeah, but what if he's not there..."

She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. "Who wouldn't want to go to the dance?!"

~~

"'M not going..." Cloud folds his arms, leaning against the door frame as he stares at a very angry Tifa.

"Cloud Strife! This is the most important school dance of our first year! We can't miss it! Plus," she smirks, leaning in towards him, "you know Zack Fair is going to be there."

It took almost a week, but Tifa finally got it out of Cloud that Zack Fair is most likely his soulmate.

They'd argued back and forth a bit about whether or not Cloud should approach him, but Cloud isn't really the 'approaching' type, and in the end Tifa had given up.

 "Zack Fair?! You gotta tell him! He's a really nice guy, I'm sure you two can talk it out."

 "No way, he's just going to be disappointed."

 "Ugh, Cloud. You don't know that! Plus, you're very handsome!"

 "Stop."

"So? I already told you I'm not saying anything to him," Cloud huffs.

"Okay, fine. I get it about Zack, but please don't make me go alone," she whines, and Cloud rolls his eyes, eventually caving to her like he always does. She's going to stand on his porch begging him to go all night, and then when he doesn't go he'll never stop hearing about how it's his fault for not getting changed and just going. So he saves himself the headache and changes into his suit.

Leaning forward in the mirror, his adjusts some of the spikes of blond hair.

 "Your hair is so spiky!"

He can't help but think of Zack, and the way those words left his lips so perfectly. His blue eyes held such admiration, just over his stupid hair. He wonders what would happen if Zack knew they were soulmates, would his eyes shimmer with that incredible excitement?

No. Cloud looks down, gripping the edge of the counter. There's no way Zack would ever be excited about being soulmates with him. He doesn't even know him! And Zack is so kind and friendly to everyone he knows... Cloud would only hold him back. No, Zack is definitely better off never knowing.

He swallows, his chest constricting at the thought. He's spent the last week unable to shake Zack from his thoughts. He's got a perfect smile, and he always seems so chipper and friendly. It's not a lie that everyone adores Zack. Hell, if he and Zack were together, there would definitely be a few very disappointed girls. He's strong, muscular, attractive... Cloud blushes just thinking about how good Zack often looks. His dark hair is messy, but suits his personality, and with his pale skin, Zack always looks so handsome and radiant, even in the shitty lighting of the school hallway. The truth is, Zack is everything Cloud wishes he could be.

Tifa would tell him he should at least give Zack a chance to respond, and deep down he knows she's right. It's not fair for him to walk around knowing the truth, when Zack will forever be in the dark.

Looking at his own blue eyes in the mirror, he bites his lip. He can imagine how sad Zack would be... in thirty years when he still hasn't found his soulmate. Maybe he'd be bitter, thinking the universe lied to him, when really it was Cloud who had...

But really what does it matter?

And who says they're even soulmates anyway? Pulling down the band, he glances at the text on his wrist, the script curling over his pale skin.

 Your hair is so spiky!

It's not terribly specific. Someone else could easily say that to him, especially with how he's styling his hair right now... But thinking about it... it's next to impossible to hear it in any other way than the way Zack said it. His vocal inflections are ingrained in Cloud's skin as much as the text is.

And a little voice echoes in the back of his mind...

 How could it be anyone else?

And Cloud wants it to be Zack. He wants it to be the kind, dark-haired boy who's smile made time freeze for just a moment. He wants to tell Zack and have his eyes light up with excitement. He'd pull Cloud into his arms, wrap around him close, his warm cheek pressed close as he nuzzles him, and slowly they'd fall together--fall in love with each other and start their journey as soulmates.

But he knows that's just a silly daydream. Reality is never as beautiful as he wants it to be.

"Cloud! Are you ready?"

"Uh... yeah! Just a second!" he calls down as he adjusts the dark turquoise tie. He supposes it looks fine. Unlike everyone else, Cloud has zero expectations for this night.

"You look nice!" Tifa smiles, cupping her hands behind her back. Her own black dress hugs her thin frame nicely, and Cloud can tell she spent some time styling her bangs. Her lips are a gentle red, and her mascara and eyeliner are darker than normal, Tifa looks good too.

"You too," he says softly.

"Thanks! I'm pretty excited, so let's go!" she tugs his hand out the door, and Cloud knows it's far too late to back out now. He's going to the school dance.

~~

"I told you he wouldn't come!" Zack whines, his eyes darting around the giant room filled to the brim with students.

"It's early," Angeal sighs, and between Zack and Genesis, Angeal is already over the dance.

"C'mon Angeal, I want to dance. Zack will be fine," Genesis hisses, glaring daggers at Zack.

"Gee, thanks Gen," Zack grumbles, folding his arms over his chest.

"You're ruining my time, puppy," he scoffs. "I want to dance with my boyfriend." Genesis hooks his arm around Angeal's possessively, leaning his head against his shoulder.

"Fine, fine, go!" Zack sighs with a smile, waving his hand at them. He wants Angeal and Genesis to have a good time, they deserve that much, especially with how often he's been complaining about this.

"Are you sure you're okay, Zack?" Angeal asks softly, gently touching his hand against Zack's shoulder.

"Yeah I'm fine, Angeal. Go dance with Genesis before he implodes," Zack snorts.

"Your fault!" Genesis calls out, dragging Angeal in towards the crowd of people.

He shouldn't be disappointed the blond boy isn't here. He had mentally prepared for this, or so he thought when he gave himself that small pep talk in front of the mirror earlier in the evening. But now that he's here and the blond is not, it hurts more than he realizes.

A few girls approach him about dancing, but he turns them down. Slinking his way over to the bleachers, he tucks his hands into his pocket. The music is loud, echoing throughout the room, but in the back where he sits, it doesn't hurt his ears as much. Other students are casually hanging out by the bleachers, ones who want to talk and relax, but Zack just wants to sit alone. The gymnasium is packed with students and there are silver stars and lights dangling from the ceiling, small twinkles dancing across the bodies and the floor.  Zack smirks sadly. "I really could've had that kiss under the stars."

"Why is Zack Fair sitting over here by himself all gloomy? Seems out of character," Aerith smiles, leaning down in front of him. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulder, swinging in front of her.

"Hey Aerith," he shrugs. "Angeal and Genesis went off to dance and I just... felt like sitting out for a bit. Kinda tired tonight, y'know?"

"The dance just started!" she frowns. "How can you already be tir-..." She pauses and stands on her tiptoes, glancing around the room. "Ah... You're sad because your blond boy didn't show yet!"

Zack immediately blushes. "Nah... I had a feeling he wouldn't come. He seems... too shy for this kind of thing," he mumbles. "I mean... I don't even know if he's my actual soulmate!" he laughs, covering his eyes with his hands. "I'm being real stupid, Aerith."

Tucking her skirt under her legs, Aerith sits down next to him, nudging him with her shoulder. "No, you're not. You're hopeful and excited!" She runs her fingers over the bracelet on her wrist. "And isn't that what having these marks is all about? Being excited and hopeful for a future with a person who is perfect for you?"

He blinks, wondering if Aerith knows who her soulmate is. "Zack," she says, gently touching his arm. "Do you believe this guy is your soulmate?"

Does he? Of course he does. It almost feels like a stupid question. Ever since he ran into him he can't stop thinking about him, and on top of that, never before had he locked eyes with someone for what seemed to be an eternity. "It... it really felt like it this time. I've been wrong before though! I mean, how am I supposed to know when people say 'Yeah' to me all the time!"

"True, but I've never known you to give up so fast," she smirks, gesturing towards the doorway.

Zack follows her finger to the entrance where he sees the blond boy stepping in with a girl in a dark black dress. His cheeks heat up, and he thinks the guy looks stunning. His blond hair sticks out against his dark suit, but he looks cute, especially when he seems to wince at how loud the music is. Zack chuckles, his heart pounding as the twinkle lights hit the boy’s pale skin. He's beautiful, and Zack needs to know his name.

It's him. It has to be. He can feel it in his bones, crawling under his skin. Soulmates are all about fate and fated encounters and Zack knows he can't be wrong, not this time, not with how his eyes can't tear away from how awkward the blond looks on the dance floor.

"He came," he whispers.

"Yup," Aerith giggles. "So go get him."

~~

"I'm going to sit down Tifa!" Cloud calls out over the crowd. He's been here for less than five minutes and he's already wanting to leave. The people keep bumping into him, and he's baffled as to how anyone could possibly enjoy this as an activity. Tifa seems to be having fun though, singing along with the songs and moving her body to and fro.

"What?!" she calls out, and he can barely hear her over the music.

"I'm going to sit down!" he yells, pointing towards the bleachers on the side of the room. She nods. He's not sure she understood, but he can feel the sweat rolling down his back, and he can't be around so many people for any longer.

Sighing, he plops down on the bench and brings his finger to the collar of his shirt, tugging on it. He takes a few deep inhales, trying to breathe. The gym is hotter and sweatier than when people run around in it during class, and Cloud regrets wearing what he wore, though all the guys seem to be in suits.

Groaning, he feels envious of Tifa in her much more open dress. His eyes scan the crowd for her, hoping she saw him take a seat, but after finding her, he realizes his eyes haven't stopped searching. He knows it's stupid to look for Zack Fair among the giant sea of people. More than likely he's not going to find him. He's probably dancing with a ton of people and having a grand time and it's not like he'd even remember who Cloud is, especially since Cloud barely said three words to him and-

"Hey!"

Cloud's rambling thoughts are broken immediately as his eyes trail up the body of the person standing in front of him. Tall, dark-hair, stunning blue eyes, of course it's none other Zack Fair, standing right in front of him.

Cloud knows he forgets to breathe, his mouth open wide as he stares at the other boy like a complete idiot. Why is he here? Is he mad about the other day? The questions rush through Cloud's brain as he tries to sort through them for a nature response.

"Uh... hey?" Cloud says, his voice turning the phrase into a question awkwardly.

"So, uh," Zack rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks oddly red. "Sorry again about running into you the other day. You okay? I didn't really... get to ask," he says.

Right. Because Cloud ran away so fast.

"Oh, uh, yeah? I'm fine... sorry too," he mumbles.

"Hey man, it's cool. But, uh, do you wanna dance? Let me make it up to you!" he says, a smile appearing across his lips. It's enough to make Cloud's entire heart melt into his chest, even with it beating a mile a minute.

He must forget to answer because Zack holds his hand out. "I promise I'm not terrible at it," he chuckles.

That's really not what Cloud's worried about. Actually it's the opposite. He knows he sucks at dancing and Zack's probably going to think he's even more of idiot than he already does.

But something in his body fights against his natural instinct to say no. Looking at Zack's outstretched palm, he sees the wristband covering his mark and Cloud is desperate to know what's underneath. Does it really just say 'Yeah'? He feels a little bad about that. It's probably been incredibly confusing for the guy. Cloud's eyes dart from Zack's eyes to his hand and then back again. He wants to. He wants to so bad. But should he?

Against his better judgement, he reaches forward and clasps their hands together, a warmth flowing through his body. Unlike the sweaty heat he felt before, he feels calm and comfortable, like his hand has been dying to touch Zack's for his whole life. It's right.

"Okay," he says softly, and he's not even sure if Zack hears him. But he pulls him up, and pulls Cloud close, their bodies touching as they fall into the sea of people. Zack's hips sway against his own, and Cloud can't stop staring at the soft features of his face. His blue eyes glow under the twinkling, silver lights, his lips are quirked into a smile, but still they look so kissable. It's hopeless.

Zack has to be his soulmate. Who else would ever make him feel like this? But he can only wonder if Zack feels it too.

"I'm Zack by the way!" he yells over the music, his hands coming down to rest on Cloud's hips. "I didn't get to tell you my name, or hear yours!"

"Cloud!" he yells back.

"Cool!" Zack says, his smile growing larger. The two move together with the fast thump, thump, thump of the music, and Cloud rolls his hips towards Zack, finally getting used to the rhythm. He still feels awkward, but with Zack so close to him, his body feels calmer somehow.

The music slows down, the lights dimming even more, and Cloud is about to pull away. Slow songs like this are usually for couples and they're not-

But Zack pulls him close, keeping their bodies locked tightly together. His hand wraps around Cloud's and he can tell Zack is trembling.

"You know... this is gonna sound stupid but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we bumped into each other." His voice is quieter now the music is softer and Cloud can hear the gentle shake of tone. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about him? But... why? Cloud isn't anything special, he's nothing like Zack...

"Me too," he says, before he can stop himself, and Zack quickly pulls back, his hands taking Cloud's.

"W-Wait really?!" he asks. "Hold on!" he says over the slow piano. Yanking Cloud's hands, he pulls him towards the door, stepping out into the cool night air. The breeze blows around them, Zack's dark hair brushing across his forehead. Cloud’s thankful to get away from the loud music, he can actually hear Zack know. "This is gonna sound crazy but I kind of thought maybe you were my soulmate," Zack pants. He tugs off the band, showing Cloud the script on his wrist.

A simple Yeah. Just as he suspected. Zack's blue eyes look eager, waiting for Cloud to say something, anything, and when he can't quite find the words, his gaze falls to the ground.

"But it's stupid right?" Zack laughs sadly, lowering his wrist to his side. "I mean so many people say 'Yeah' to me. I've been wrong so many times..." His blue eyes tremble, as though he's about to cry and Cloud feels his chest tighten again.

No. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid. He never wants to see Zack looking so hurt, so upset...

"It's... It's not stupid..." Cloud whispers, reaching down to pull off his own wristband. "Mine... says exactly what you said to me when we ran into each other."

Zack's blue eyes widen and he grabs Cloud's wrist, gasping as he leans in close. "Your hair is so spiky," he reads, and hearing it in Zack's voice again, makes Cloud's heart leap into his throat. "C-Cloud... are... you my soulmate?" he asks.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he nods. "Yeah..." he repeats that stupid word, feeling dumb. Here it comes, the disappointment he expects. He's not a beautiful woman, he's not someone cool, he's no one; imperfect for someone like Zack.

Instead, he feels Zack's arm wrap around his body, pulling him close. "Why... didn't you tell me?" he whispers, and Cloud's eyes shoot open, bringing his own hands around Zack's body.

"I...I don't know! I thought you would be disappointed," he trembles.

"DISAPPOINTED!?" Zack yells, and Cloud winces as Zack grips his shoulders, pushing him back. "Why would I ever be disappointed?! Damn Cloud, you're cute as hell… actually... you're beautiful! And all week I couldn't stop thinking about you! I just wanted to know if I was right and more than anything I wanted to get to know you better!"

Zack's eyes twinkle with excitement in the moonlight. He looks so genuinely happy, and Cloud knows his own cheeks are bright red, as he tries to fully comprehend what Zack is saying. There's no disappointment, only a happiness Cloud thought he could only dream of.

"Really?" he asks, a small smile pulling across his face involuntarily.

"Really! I kept telling people I knew it was you but I didn't know how to ask!" he says, hugging him again. "I... I just can't believe I found my soulmate. With a phrase like 'Yeah', I thought I never would!"

Cloud snorts, hugging him back. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just... couldn't believe it was you saying 'Your hair is so spiky'. I was... really shocked."

"In my defense, that is totally something I would say," Zack laughs. "And hey, now we have all the time in the world to get to know each other," he chuckles. "You're my soulmate!" He grabs Cloud's hand and holds it up, turning towards the parking lot. "I FOUND MY SOULMATE!" he yells, looking so damn happy. No one answers, but it's obvious Zack doesn't care.

Suddenly Cloud regrets ever hiding it from him.

"Lets go dance then?!" Zack says, squeezing his hand, and Cloud wonders if Zack is ever going to let him go again. Admittedly, he wouldn't mind if he didn't.

"Okay," Cloud nods.

Following Zack's lead, Cloud can't stop smiling. This is more perfect than he ever expected, but Zack stops suddenly, and glances up a the sky. "Wait," he whispers, turning to him to cup at his cheeks. Leaning down he brushes their lips together and Cloud tenses, a new warmth rushing through his body, pink and joyous.

Zack's lips are soft, and he holds them against Cloud's, letting out a happy noise as he pulls away. "I... really wanted to kiss you under the stars tonight. Guess I got my wish," he says, and Cloud needs a moment to gather himself as he follows Zack back inside.

The dance doesn't feel as crowded now and Cloud's heart beats in time with the rhythm of the loud music as he dances close to Zack. His hands are on his waist and Cloud likes how weighted they make him feel, how strange how he feels so free whilst being so grounded.

He catches Tifa's eye from across the dance floor and she waves at him. The girl with her, a petite looking brown-haired girl in a pink dress, gives him the thumbs up and Zack immediately snorts.

"That's Aerith, she's one of my best friends. She's been bugging me to talk to you all week."

"Eh? You know her?" Cloud says, staring at Tifa while she dances happily with the other girl.

"Yeah! Why?"

"She's dancing with Tifa, my best friend." He fails to admit that she's really his only friend. "She's also been trying to... get me to talk to you too." His face is bright red, and he only hopes the lighting in the gym will hide it.

"Really?!" he laughs so hard. "I didn't know they knew each other! Small world, I guess!"

"Or... maybe they just met," Cloud muses. Tifa's looking at the girl so intensely, and her cheeks are red. He can't tell from this distance if she's embarrassed or just hot from dancing. Noticing his stare, Tifa waves her hand, and flicks her gaze towards Zack, winking.

He really should be paying more attention to the adorable boy in front of him.

"We'll have to ask them later! For now I wanna focus on you!" Zack yells over the music. "There's so much I wanna know about you! Though... I guess this is kind of a bad place to ask."

Cloud smirks, Zack is so eager and cute. His heart skips a beat looking at the excitement swirling in his blue eyes. He can't help himself; leaning up, he brushes his lips against Zack's, wrapping his arms around his neck. The rest of the world slowly disappears, the people mere background noise.

"Well, it's like you said, we have all the time in the world to get to know each other," he says, brushing their noses against one another. Zack's laughter is contagious as they smile together, the music suddenly seeming quiet.

Cloud could stay this close to Zack forever. He smiles, cause they really do have all the time they want; they have eternity.

~~

Zack sees his boyfriend standing on the sidelines of the lacrosse field and he's immediately distracted. Cloud is so cute, with his spiky blond hair, and excited blue eyes. His thin fingers are wrapped around the strap of his backpack and Zack's heart beats faster thinking about how perfect their hands fit together and how he loves intertwining their fingers. How can he resist looking at him?!

"Puppy! Pay attention!" Genesis snarls, smacking his lacrosse stick against Zack's, jolting him from his daze.

"Eh?! S-Sorry Genesis," he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugs at Cloud. Cloud laughs, his smile wide and adorable. "I'll, uh, be right back!" he calls out, running over to the side.

"Hurry up, Zack!" Angeal chimes in. But they all know it's better to let Zack have his moment with his boyfriend when he apparently needs it, otherwise nothing will get done.

"Hey!" Zack says, leaning over the fence. "You here to watch me practice?"

"Yeah… Tifa and Aerith were studying together, so I thought I’d come watch... is that okay? " Cloud asks, a small smile still on his face. Zack loves getting to see the blond smile. They feel so rare, and genuine, like they're special and only for him.

"Of course it's okay!" Zack laughs. "You can come watch every practice if you want. Or I know! You should join the team!" he says eagerly.

Cloud's soft laugh feels like the perfect song to Zack's ears. "I think if I did that you would get absolutely nothing done."

"Ah... you're right, you're right..." Zack whines. "I just like when you're here!" He leans over the fence and brushes their lips together. For all those times he thought he would never find his soulmate, now that he has, Zack can't ever seem to let Cloud go. He's perfect, cute, intelligent, supportive, and he's got a few quirks, but Zack loves everything about him already, and it's only been a couple of weeks. "It took me so long to find you, I never want to let you go," he whispers, brushing his thumb over his cheek.

"I know, but... I'm here, supporting you, always."

"I know. And you know I always wanna support you too, okay?!" he says excitedly.

"Mhm," Cloud nods. "Now go, or Angeal is gonna yell at you again."

"Alright Spiky," he says, kissing Cloud one more time. "I'll see you after we're done. I can't face the wrath of Angeal!" He waves his fingers as if it's something insanely spooky.

"Exactly. Have fun," Cloud smiles, and Zack can barely tear his eyes away.

"Bye," Zack waves sadly.

"I'm gonna be right here, Zack," Cloud snorts, teasing him. "I promise." Zack knows Cloud isn't going to leave. He knows they have eternity together.

"I know," he sighs, and blows Cloud a kiss anyway. Cloud pretends to catch it, and rolls his eyes as he places his hand against his chest, knowing it's cheesy, but Cloud knows Zack loves that stuff.

They're soulmates.

And Zack thinks the universe couldn't have picked someone better.

[ugh-supersoldiers]

Birthday Girl

MASTERLIST

Anonymous said: 

Hey hey hey do ya think you can do a bucky x reader where it's the readers birthday and Bucky spoils and pampers her and takes her to Coney Island for the day and it's super fluffy and shit and maybe leads to some smut at the end ;-)) thank u!!

Characters: Bucky x reader

Summary: Birthdays aren’t something you enjoy, but when your most adored super soldier makes a point of celebrating with you for the day, you just might learn to change your mind.

Warnings: Fluffiest of fluffs, no smut (I’m not exactly 100% comfortable writing that stuff regularly yet sorry nonnie), bad editing

Words: 3173

A/N: Fluffy Bucky is the best Bucky. I apologize for my inactivity and to anyone who has requested something but not gotten a fic. Uni is killing me, but I haven’t forgotten about you, I promise. 

You never liked Birthdays, they’d always seemed so trivial to you. The idea that everyone felt as though they needed to be nice to you and shower you in gifts on one oh so special day of the year made you feel strange. It felt fake, completely disingenuous, and you made it your mission every year to hide your birthday. This year was, of course, no different.

“Morning.” Steve nodded at you as you made your way into the common area of the Avengers compound.

You smiled, offering a good morning in return, and moved towards the coffee pot that he’d just brewed, sighing contently at the sight of it still half full.

An unintentional birthday gift, you thought as you poured the piping hot liquid into your mug, the best kind.

“Sleep well?” He asked you with a tired smile.

“I did, actually.” You said, taking a sip of your coffee, “What about you, Stevie?”

He laughed at the name, “No better than normal.” He shrugged.

“Well, I suppose it could definitely be worse.”

The same sleepy smile returned to his lips, and you knew that signaled the end of your brief morning conversation. Steve retreated back into the recesses of the compound, going God knows where to do God knows what, and leaving you to your own devices in the common room.

You sat at the bar stool near the island, enjoying the sunlight pouring into the windows around you as it hit your skin. A delicious warmth spread through you as another sigh came from your mouth.

“Well, good morning.” A voice came from behind you.

That was a voice you would recognize anywhere, because that was the voice of Bucky Barnes. It was no secret that you were utterly enamored with him, at least you were fairly certain it wasn’t. You and him had become fast friends, and your feelings never got the memo to stop growing.

“Morning, Buck.” You smiled as you swiveled around on the stool to face him, your back resting on the island counter.

His hair was messy, waves sticking out, torso graced with a red sweater, a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms on his lower half. All you wanted to do was snuggle up next to him and waste the morning away.

“Y’know,” He began as he strode over to you, “A little birdie told me that it just might be my best girl’s birthday today.”

Your face heated up, partially flustered by his use of ‘best girl’ and partially because he’d somehow figured out that it was your birthday even though you’d done almost everything to ensure no one knew.

“H-how did you-?”

“You’ve got a big mouth when you’re drunk.”

Your hand instantly went to slap against your forehead. Of course you’d told him when you were drunk, how else would it have slipped. Tony’s parties were never kind to you.

“Shit.” You mumbled, “Please don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

He seemed taken aback, “I won’t, I know how much you hate birthdays.”

“Thank you.” You said, letting a breath of air pass your lips in relief.

“I won’t... On the grounds that you let me treat you to a day out today.” He said quickly.

“Bucky.” You whined.

“Look, doll, you’ve got two options,” He smirked, “You either come out with me today and let me make this the most adventurous birthday you’ve ever had, or you say no and I tell the entire team that it’s your special day and you deal with them planning some ridiculously extravagant night for you.”

You scowled up at him harder than you thought possible as he walked over to you, now standing in front of your body. He reached forward and caged you in his arms, his hands resting on either side of you on the countertop behind your back.

“What’s it gonna be?”

You sighed, “First one.”

The smile on his face was enough to make your knees weeks.

“Go get dressed, be ready in 15 minutes.” He turned on his heels and ventured back up the stairs from which he must come from.

“That’s barely even enough time to finish my coffee!” You protested.

“I’ll buy you a new one on our way.”

“On our way to where?!”

“You’ll see!”

With the slam of his door, he was gone. You groaned rather loudly, but hoisted yourself off of the stool anyways, gripping your mug perhaps a little too tight as you made your way into your room again.

You set the mug on your desk and ran your fingers through your hair to tame the morning mess that resided there. With a deep breath, you turned towards your closet, clutched the handle and thrust it open, ready to search for an outfit to wear.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking for something to impress Bucky with, it was going to be just the two of you - assuming he kept his word about not telling the team - so this was about as close to a ‘date’ as you figured you’d ever get with him. You hummed along quietly to a tune you couldn’t quite remember the name of as you sifted through your various skirts and dresses and tops, looking for the right combination that might spark something in your favourite super soldier.

You settle for a red knitted sweater, leggings, and blundstones. Red was Bucky’s favourite colour, after all.

Once you’d applied a little makeup and run a proper brush through your hair, you decided you looked as good as you were ever going to given the small time frame Bucky gave you, so you threw on a beige jacket and made your way back into the common room.

He was already waiting for you, his back turned so he was facing the large window that overlooked the lake.

Clad in a peacoat and scarf with hair fastened in a low bun, Bucky Barnes looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale, even from behind. You had to hold yourself back from wrapping yours arms around him from behind and snuggling into him.

“Ready?” You asked, perhaps a little to chipper.

He turned around to face you, a smile on his lips the moment his eyes landed on you, “You look beautiful.”

Although it didn’t answer your question, you couldn’t complain in the slightest. Bucky had always been affectionate with you, calling you sweet or cute - small things like that. But beautiful? Now that was a step up from the norm.

The crimson colour that painted its way onto your cheeks must’ve been enough of a response for him, because he only laughed, strode over to you and swung his arm over your shoulder so you were nestled into his side.

“C’mon, we got a whole day to get through.”

“Are you gonna tell me where the heck we’re going?” You laughed as he lead you out the door of the compound.

“Not if you keep asking.” He said with a smirk.

“Well how am I supposed to get an answer if I don’t ask?”

“You won’t.”

“Bucky Barnes, you’re an ass.”

He merely laughed at your words, and continued leading you down the path of the compound in the brisk air until you reached one of Tony’s many expensive cars.

“Think he’ll notice if it’s gone for a day?” Bucky mused.

“This is a horrible idea.”

“I seem to be full of those.” He laughed, pulling out the keys from his pocket, clearly having planned this out more than he was leading on, “Hop in.”

A small giggle escaped from your mouth, one of pure delight at the idea of hijacking Tony’s car for the day.

Still with Bucky’s arm around you, he lead you to the passenger’s side and opened the door for you. A blush decorated your face at his gesture, as you ever so quietly thanked him.

Once you were sitting in the seat, he closed your door and raced over to the driver’s side, getting in and starting the car.

The roar of the engine was soft and smooth, and you nearly purred at the feeling of the seat heater that turned on the moment the ignition was turned.

“First order of business,” He said when you’d cleared the gates of the compound, “Let’s get you another coffee.”

You hummed happily and smiled brightly at him, “Thank you.”

“Well, it’s your birthday after all.”

Instantly, your heart sunk a little bit in your chest. He was right, it was your birthday, that’s why he was doing it, not because there was anything more between the two of you.

Bucky was a sweetheart, and you appreciated everything that he was doing for you today, but you wanted there to be more behind his motivation aside from the fact that it was just your birthday. He’d become a victim of the very reason why you hated your birthday in the first place.

Bucky was quick to stop and get you another coffee, ordering himself one in the process too. The drive was short, the scenery out of your window not even holding a candle to the man sitting next to you.

There was something undeniably beautiful about Bucky Barnes, and you were never exactly sure what it was. Sometimes you would swear it was his voice, and how raspy and perfect it was in the mornings. Other days you’d be certain it was his laugh, the way his nose would crinkle up. Today you’d bet it was his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that never failed to captivate you. Even when he was driving and you were limited to what you could see, every now and again there would be a flash of light through the windshield that would catch them perfectly, and your heart would melt at the view of them.

“I like your eyes.”

You were only aware that you were saying that a moment after it had left your mouth. Bucky momentarily tore his eyes away from the road to glance at you, a boyish grin on his lips.

“Thanks, (Y/N/N).”

You were certain you were the same shade as your shirt by this point, feeling the heat rise up on your cheeks like steam rising to the ceiling.

“Tell me a story.” You said, trying to get the topic to change as soon as humanly possible.

“‘Bout what?” Bucky asked.

“I wanna hear something from when you were younger.”

“You always do.” He laughed.

It was true, you were fascinated with Bucky’s life before the war, even if it meant enduring stories about him with other girls, which you shamefully would have to admit made you jealous.

There were many nights that the two of you would spend just talking the hours away with story after story after story. He captivated you every time.

“Just one more?” You pleaded.

“You seem to say that every time too, dollface.”

A pout registered on your face, exaggerated and completely ridiculous looking. It as just outlandish enough to catch his eye, and enough to make him laugh.

“Alright alright,” He said, “This one time, when Steve and I were maybe about 11...”

The drive went by quicker with Bucky’s story. You sat listening intently for its duration until he finished, and instructed you to close your eyes.

“Is the suspense not enough?” You giggled, setting your now empty coffee cup in the cup holder and putting your hands over your eyes.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

You hummed a tune as you listened to the paved road change to gravel under the tires of the expensive car. You tried to hone in on any other clues, but couldn’t pick up on anything other than that.

The car slowed down, and eventually stopped.

“Keep em closed.” He said, before his car door opened and a flood of noise came into your ears.

Voices, children laughing, bells ringing, shouting of joy. You inhaled deeply the scent of cotton candy and fresh pretzels.

A carnival?

Your side of the car opened, and you felt a metal hand grasp your arm, leading you out of your seat.

Bucky lead you for a few steps, the echo of the door shutting long behind you before he finally stopped and let you go.

“Okay, open.”

You removed your hands from your face excitedly, allowing sunlight to filter in through your lashes. 

A ferris wheel stood tall in front of you, you craned your neck upwards to see its top. To your right, a rollercoaster and a bunch of different games to play. To your left, a sign that read ‘Coney Island’. 

You gasped, you’d heard so much about this place from Bucky before, it felt so foreign but so familiar all at once.

You turned to Bucky, a huge grin on your face. 

Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“Figured you’d want the chance to see it for yourself instead of hearin’ me blab on about it.” He laughed quietly, his eyes cast down to the floor.

You ran to him and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, “Thank you,” You whispered, “This is wonderful, Bucky, thank you.”

His arms were secured around your waist firmly, his chin resting on top of your head. You giggled happily before taking him by the hand and leading him immediately to the first game you saw.

And that was how you spent your birthday; laughing your head off and playing games and going on rides with arguably your favourite person on the entire planet. 

By the time night fell, you were walking on the LED lit pathway with Bucky, finishing off the last bit of the sweetest cotton candy you’d ever eaten. Passing a nearby trash can, you threw out the stick that had previously held up the sticky sweet pink fluff, and went to go shove your hand in your pocket, but something stopped you.

Bucky’s flesh hand quickly grabbed yours, interlocking each finger within his own firmly. Without making eye contact, he smirked.

“I’d hate for you to get lost.”

You bit your lip to suppress the giddy laughter that threatened to embarrass the living daylights out of you. There was absolutely no danger of you getting lost, and even if there were you’d be able to hold your own just fine. This meant Bucky just needed an excuse.

“Whatever you say, Buck.”

When your eyes landed on the single thing you hadn’t yet experienced at Coney Island, you knew exactly how you were going to end your day.

“Think we’ll get stuck at the top?” Bucky asked, eyeing the Ferris wheel that you approached with excited steps.

“I hope so.”

Bucky looked down at you, but your eyes were glued to the wheel ahead of you. The joy on your face warmed his heart, and he knew he could never admit to you how badly he wanted to tilt your chin up and kiss you right there. But he knew he couldn’t, not yet.

The line was long, and it discouraged you the moment you saw it, but Bucky lead you past it and behind the wheel instead.

“What are you-”

“Ah, Mr. Barnes.” A voice said.

You looked around until you saw the man from which the voice originated from. He was older, graying at the top, clad in a simple shirt and jeans. He must work here, you thought.

“Right this way,” He said, gesturing up the small staircase that lead to the carts from the otherside, “Alright folks outta the way, we got a special occasion on our hands.”

There were some protests, but for the most part everyone in the line was more focused on their own conversations then the line cutting that was happening in front of their very noses. 

“What did you do?” You whispered to Bucky, who had a mischievous grin cast upon his brow.

He lead you into the cart, made sure you were seated comfortably before he took his seat next to you, his arm resting along the back of the cart behind you.

The man shut the door firmly and quickly winked at Bucky before the wheel began to move. You dared to move further into Bucky’s warmth, nestling yourself under his shoulder and sighing happily as you looked at the beautiful city during the fall of night.

“It’s beautiful up here.” You whispered.

“I’m happy you like it.” Bucky said, and you turned your head to look back at him, your noses nearly touching.

“Like it? Bucky this entire day had been a dream.” You said truthfully.

Then that feeling came back, that knowledge that he was only doing it because it was your birthday, and tomorrow everything would go back to the status quo. You dropped your eyes from his, unable to look at him so romantically with those thoughts plaguing your mind. You turned back out to look at the scenery again.

The ferris wheel came to a halt, your cart swining slightly from front to back. You glanced around, looking at the carts below you, and realized you had stopped at the top. 

You whipped back around to Bucky, who was leaning over the end of the cart, giving a thumbs up to the operator below. 

“You planned this?” You asked.

“I did.”

Unable to speak you simply hugged him again, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Hey there, I still have one more thing to give you.”

“Gosh, Bucky I couldn’t possibly-”

“(Y/N) it’s nothing that big, and I’ve been meaning to give you this for a while.” He said as you pulled away from him, face to face with those beautiful blue eyes once again.

“Okay.” You said.

He let a deep exhale rumble out of his chest, and shut his eyes for a moment, before opening them and looking intensely into your own.

“My gift to you (Y/N) (Y/L/N), is the promise to - once and for all - stop acting like I’m not hopelessly in love with you.”

Your eyes blew wide, unable to process anything that he’d said.

Bucky. Promise. Hopelessly in love. With you.

“Doll?” He asked, his flesh hand reaching forward to cup your cheek, eyes searching yours for some sign of comprehension, but finding nothing. Your mouth was agape, breath uneven as you stared at him helplessly. 

“Bucky.” You gasped, in a state of disbelief.

His eyes shifted back and forth between yours desperately, hoping you’d show him anything that would lead him to believe that he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his life.

As if acting purely on impulse, you reached for his face and pulled him onto your lips, kissing him when you failed to produce words to answer him.

So you sat at the very top of the ferris wheel at Coney Island, in the arms of the man you loved most in the entire world, kissing him feverishly, and thinking that perhaps birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[artificialskyway-archived]

The Dancer and the Lost Boy

Hi there 💚your writing!Not sure if u do memberxmember fics but could I request either(bts)HopeMon or VHope please?Purely because I don’t think there’s enough fics for these ships.Fluff/smut/angst I dont mind&if not members together then HobixReader pz!(He slays me lately help😂)Just a simple scenario of Hobi having a crush&making a move about it will be great thank u!(I imagine he’d be very forward if he liked someone&even if not, I’m just casually requesting death anyway😂)Thank u for ur time!            

Title: The Dancer and The Lost Boy

Type: Fluff

Members: Hoseok x Yoongi

Length: 2,075

~Admin RatedM

AN: So I decided to turn this request into a Yoonseok fic because tbh I got inspiration for it cuz they’re so darn cute and I really like how this turned out. :) I hope you guys like it too!

    Kicking a measly pebble off the sidewalk, Yoongi roams the streets looking for inspiration. He sees all the people with bored faces, wondering how they get up in the morning and go about their day, doing the same things over and over without a smile or even a frown on their face. Why aren’t they more upset about how boring their life is? How are they satisfied with such a boring life? He took pictures of them anyway, capturing the sadness that is their normalcy.

    After an hour, he’s close to just giving up and buying lunch when he notices something in the park. As he gets closer, he spots a man dancing. The man is tall with bright red hair, long limbs that flow like water through the air. He had to get a closer look.

Right next to a small crowd, he sees the dancer in full view. He’s obviously a teacher because there is a group of  little kids trying to imitate his every move and the red-haired man slows down his steps to let them catch up. Yoongi smirked softly, raising his camera to capture the moment, this was what he was looking for.

As the pictures are taken, he looks into the screen to find the man smiling at him, soft interest in his eyes. He quickly drops the camera to see for himself and sure enough, the dancer is looking back at him. Yoongi goes back to taking pictures of them, taking in the background of the smiling passersby and the children laughing. For the first time in so long, he feels just a little spark of hope. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen something so peaceful, and he hopes to see more. He could get used to this feeling.

        The dance class soon finishes so Yoongi quickly tries to slip away, only to bump right into the man he was trying to avoid. His bright smile makes Yoongi melt instantly, feeling the warmth and redness cover his cheeks.

“Hi! I’m Hoseok,” the redhead beams.

“Yoongi,” he mumbled, lowering his head to hide his blushing cheeks. He tries his best at a poker face as he faces Hoseok.

“What brings you here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Needed inspiration. I thought I’d walk around a new area,” Yoongi replies before lowering his head again shyly.

“Oh! You’re a photographer?! Though I probably should’ve guessed from the camera..Can I see them?”

    Hesitantly, he lifts up his camera for Hoseok to see, taking a step back so he doesn’t seem too close. No one besides the people who buy his work bother to ask about his pictures; it feels nice.

“These are beautiful! And look at the kids! Oh, they look so happy! And look at me! That can’t be me. This person actually looks attractive. I don’t know how you do it but you’re really good!” the dancer praises before handing back the camera.

Yoongi almost drops it in the process, unable to deal with such compliments. People don’t compliment his artwork… ever. They either just buy it and leave, or they criticize to no end, tearing his self-esteem down in the process. “T-thank you,” he answers, “It’s really nothing, though. It helps to have a good muse.” “Did I just say that?!”  Yoongi thought to himself.

Hoseok blushes and smiles brightly. “Can I see more?”

“You want to see more? Uh sure! It’s back at my place, though.”

“Dang, that’s too bad. I have another class in a few minutes.”

Yoongi fishes in his pocket for a cigarette before answering. “Yeah, it is,” Yoongi looks up to find the dancer wearing a disgusted look on his face, “What? Did I do something?” It only took him a second to realize he was grimacing at the cigarette. Not wanting his new friend to run away, Yoongi quickly yanks the cigarette from his mouth and throws it and the rest of the pack in the trash. “Sorry, nasty habit. I’ve been meaning to quick anyways.”

“That’s alright. It’s good that you’re quitting. Smoking isn’t attractive on anyone. No matter what people tell you. Although, I gotta say, I don’t think anything could make you look unattractive.” Hoseok bluntly lets out, his eyes quick to avoid the blonde.

Yoongi chuckles, and feeling a bit of confidence he asks, “Hey, how about we hang out after you’re done with classes? I could show you more of my work then, and we could grab some food afterwards?”

“That sounds like a plan,” Hoseok beams, “I’ll see you later then say, around 8, meet back here?”

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” Yoongi agrees with a gummy smile. Suddenly, he hears the snap of his camera going off and looks up to find that Hoseok stole it to take a picture of him.

“You should smile more often, it looks good on you,” Hoseok suggests before handing him back his camera with a wink. Yoongi watches the redhead jog off towards the kids, realizing that he couldn’t get rid of his smile. Realizing where he was, he shakes his head lightly, doing his best to look nonchalant as he walks away from the park.

All day Yoongi couldn’t get that damn Hoseok out of his mind. Even in the slums of his neighborhood, he relishes in the little sunlight that peeks in between the crappy apartment buildings. He listens to the birds chirping, ignoring the sounds of police sirens and people yelling the best he could. He reaches his apartment, grinning at the little plants on his window sill. How he managed to keep them alive he’ll never know, but they give him almost as much hope as his new friend. Would he call Hoseok a friend? The way he spoke to him it sure seemed like more. Could it be more? Who would want to be with someone like him? Question after question began making him believe that this was all too good to be true. No way would Hoseok like him. No way could someone so pure and happy like Hoseok, be interested in someone as broken and lost as Yoongi. He shakes the thoughts away.

Either way, he had a date with Hoseok later, he’d just have to deal with it and see where it goes.

After taking a long nap, Yoongi quickly takes a shower, the smile plastered on his face just wouldn’t go away. He’s excited, a lot more than he’d like if he’s being honest. He’s never really been on a proper date; people just assumed that because he was an artist that he’d just want sex from them.

For the most part it was true, but soon sex became boring, just a way of leaving his mark on the world. The more he slept with people, the lonelier he became. Who knew? After a while he gave up on people altogether, convinced that he was destined to be alone.

Until today. Today, someone looked at him and saw something other than free sex and cigarettes. Yoongi soon realizes that he hadn’t touched a cigarette since he met the pretty dancer. It was quite freeing, not having to depend on something that’ll eventually kill him.

Dressed up in black ripped jeans and a long dark grey tshirt, Yoongi looks in the mirror. He notices his blonde hair landing just above his eyes, his beanie taming most of it underneath. Is this good enough? I mean, we’re only going to walk around and eat takeout. Why did I choose that of all things? I mean he seemed pretty interested. What if he was just being nice? Oh god, I better hurry up before I’m late. As ready as he’ll ever be, Yoongi grabs his camera, one of his portfolios, and keys before walking out the door.

Dinner goes by in a flash; they stop at a small little restaurant hidden away from the busy streets. The people there greet them with surprised smiles, serving them immediately. It’s quiet but comfortable, and they listen to the workers fighting in the kitchen. They can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it is, the duck guy fighting with the chef over the size of the ducks. Hoseok and Yoongi go on to talk about everything, from their childhood to their dreams to the news and how it affects them. Throughout the entire dinner Yoongi feels at ease. Finally, he’s found someone he can talk to. It’s so easy with Hoseok, despite not knowing him for very long. He feels a connection he hasn’t felt with anyone else; he just hopes the dancer feels the same.

After dinner, they walk around the neighborhood, heading towards Yoongi’s apartment. Remembering his portfolio after they’ve walked a few blocks, Yoongi hands it over to Hoseok, quickly wiping off any sweat that could’ve gotten on there from his tight grip on it. “Oh, thanks,” Hoseok whispers as he takes it in his hands. They slow their pace as he examines each and every photo. “I don’t know how you do it. You have a really good eye. I don’t think I’ve seen things from this perspective before. How do you make such normal things look so good?” Yoongi glows at the compliments, taking the portfolio back with shaking hands.

“Like you said, I just see things from a different perspective. I guess.”

“I’ve never seen the city like this at night,” Hoseok mentions with his wide eyes looking up at the scenery before the two men.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Although, you gotta be careful around here. You never know who you might run into,” Yoongi warns.

“True, but at least I’m not alone. I feel pretty safe.” The blonde couldn’t help but smile at Hoseok’s words. His heart nearly stops as Hoseok casually takes his hand, intertwining them slowly. He looks up at the redhead and finds him already looking at him. They lock eyes for what seems like an eternity until Hoseok blinks, and they both look away shyly.

They walk a few more steps until they reach Yoongi’s apartment, thankfully on the first floor. Yoongi opens the door surprisingly well with only one hand, and they kick off their shoes in the corner of the hall.

“Wow. To be honest, I didn’t think an artist would be so neat,” Hoseok confesses as they walk through the apartment.

“Haha, yea. I try to make enough space so I can look at my photos. You should see it when it’s printing day. It’s like a tornado went through here.” The sound of the dancer laughing makes Yoongi’s heart practically jump out of his chest.

“I was right to call you an artist,” the younger starts, “you have a real gift, Yoongi.”

He turns toward the blonde swiftly, almost knocking him down in the process. They both chuckle as they get their footing, looking up and locking eyes with each other once more.

“I really want to kiss you now,” Yoongi thinks to himself.

“Then, do it,” Hoseok responds. How did he know what I was thinking?! Did I say it out loud? Oh, I’m such an idiot! Wait! Did he say go for it?

Yoongi stares at Hoseok’s eyes, then his nose, then his lips. They both lean in, nerves and excitement flooding both their bodies. Yoongi closes his eyes, afraid that this might be too good to be true, but leans in anyway, capturing the younger’s lips with his own. The kiss is magical; it’s soft yet filled with passion that he can’t describe.

They break away too soon, their breaths heavy as they take one last look at each other. The two chuckle again, this time both reaching out to hold each other’s hand.

“I should get going. I have more classes tomorrow,” Hoseok states. Yoongi nods and leads him towards the door. Hoseok slips on his shoes before facing the blonde again.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” the redhead says with a smile that not even the sun could compete with.

“Yeah, me too,” Yoongi agrees, “we should do this again. Maybe, tomorrow night?”

“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodni-” Yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise as Hoseok sneaks a kiss on his lips before rushing out the door.

He stands there dumbfounded as he wonders how this night came to be. How could someone like me get so lucky?

I don’t know. I just know I can’t screw this up.

| BTS Masterlist | main m.list |

[i-d-k-man]

If I’m Being Honest...

[Tododeku, BNHA]

A03 Link

Chapter 1

Bright sunlight made Todoroki squint as he stepped through the hospital’s automatic doors.  

It was a beautiful day - surprisingly cool for June - with a pleasant breeze tossing Todoroki’s bangs.  Even the hospital had seemed cheerful, his mother smiling softly as Todoroki opened her window, then laughing behind her hand as the wind caught the curtain and smacked her son in the face.  

She had been laughing more and more lately, each giggle (and occasional snort) threading one more stitch across the fractures of the past between them.  After all, Todoroki had heard that broken bones grow back stronger.

Closing his eyes leisurely, Todoroki basked in the sunlight.

A short buzz in Todoroki’s pocket interrupted his musings, and he pulled his phone out.   Midoriya Izuku , the screen read.  Speaking of broken bones...

As Todoroki typed in his passcode, another buzz rattled the phone, also courtesy of Midoriya Izuku .  A perfectly suitable contact name, intentionally dull so as not to raise any suspicion.  Kirishima had more than provided a cautionary tale last year, when Ashido had discovered that his contact name for Bakugou was “BakuuuBabe”, accompanied by a rather unfortunate string of emojis (the water droplets especially stood out).   For nearly a month, a chorus of “Bakuuu!”s chimed whenever Bakugou entered a room or hallway, like some occult ritual.  

A couple charred streaks remained on the hallway floors to this day.  Needless to say, Todoroki wasn’t about to go putting Midoriya’s contact as ‘light of my life’, ‘reason green is my favorite color’, or any of those other intrusive thoughts that spun right ‘round like a record through Todoroki’s head whenever he was around the boy.   Midoriya Izuku was proper, professional.

(Midoriya Izuku somehow still managed to send a pleasant chill up Todoroki’s spine.)

>> hey man, u still wanna join us or should we just go ahead and start ? 

 Todoroki glanced at the time, 10:37.  Ah, he was running late.  The unofficial little “Men of Class 1-A Weekend Workout Squad” (or “Swole Team 6,” as Kirishima called it) usually started an hour or so before lunch.

 << Count me in, if nobody minds waiting.  I should be back on campus in half an hour.

 >> great !!    Midoriya replied almost immediately.    see u there, Freezer Burn :) 

 ‘Freezer Burn’, huh?  That was a new one.

It really was a beautiful day, so Todoroki let the butterflies flit freely within him as he basked in the sun at the train stop.  He liked when Midoriya called him nicknames.  Or called him his real name.  Or looked Todoroki’s way in general.  It didn't take much, with Midoriya.

The breeze smelled like roses.

A couple minutes passed, and the train pulled into the station, rumbling to a halt.  The doors slid open, revealing an angry couple, screeching hysterically.  The warmth of the sun dissipated as Todoroki boarded and found a seat, as far from the racket as possible. Todoroki sighed - the peace had been nice while it lasted.

“Don’t even try giving me that bullshit again, Subaru!”  some lady was yelling, her eyes cocooned in black eyeliner and long nails glittering in the fluorescent light.  “I’ve seen the way you look at her, it’s like a dog drooling over a piece of meat.  Or its own vomit.  You’re disgusting, Subaru, a fucking disgrace!”

A man - presumably Subaru - threw his arms up in frustration.  “For the last time, Mitsubishi, I told you that she’s just a friend.  I’d hang out with any of my friends at 3 am, that’s no big deal!  In fact, I’d love to go out late with you, but you insist on sleeping before midnight, like some senior citizen.”

“Yeah, so I love sleeping.  Sue me!”  Mitsubishi was really fuming now - it reminded Todoroki of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  “At least I do it alone.  Unlike you, you fuck!”

Bakugou!  The answer clicked in Todoroki’s head.  That’s who Mitsubishi reminded him of.  It must be the homicide in her eyes.

“T-that’s ridi- I can’t believe you’d say-!”  Subaru stammered.  “Mitsubishi, I would never.”

A wicked smile uncoiled across glossy red lips.  “Is that so?  Then why don’t we make ourselves 100% certain?”

Dread eclipsed Subaru’s face, and he began backpedaling both literally and figuratively, retreating into Todoroki’s personal space.  Great.  “N-now, there’s no need for extremes, babe.  Have I mentioned how sexy you look in that lipstick color?  Why would I ever even look at another girl when I have you!”

“Let’s find out,” Mitsubishi menaced, eyes positively sparking with ill-intent as she stretched out a hand towards her (soon to be ex, in Todoroki’s opinion) boyfriend.  Her expression was downright murderous - had Bakugou mentioned having an aunt in the area?

Any musings surrounding Mitsubishi and possible relation to Bakugou were dispelled as Todoroki felt his phone vibrating on his knee.  Midoriya Izuku.  Ahhh.  Todoroki put the phone up to his ear.  “Hello, Midor--”

Three things then happened at once.  

1)  The train cabin shuddered suddenly without warning.  

2)  Mitsubishi, caught off guard, lost her balance, desperately grabbing Todoroki’s shoulder in order to stay upright.

3)  A violent bolt of nausea crackled through Todoroki, and his head swam painfully.

Thankfully, the train returned to its original course as quickly as it had left it.  Todoroki’s stomach smoothly unwound, the nausea disappearing completely.  He breathed heavily, eyebrows knit in confusion as he rubbed his shoulder where Mitsubishi had speared him with her nails.   What the hell was that about?  Had he eaten something bad?

A loud gasp tore Todoroki from his thoughts.  Mitsubishi looked downright horrified, her hands slapping over her mouth.  “Oh shit, shit, shit!  Fuck, do you feel sick at- hey, wait.”  Her heavily outlined eyes popped even wider, if possible.  “Are you that Todoroki kid, from U.A.?”

“Yes,” Todoroki replied, curiously quickly.  He normally tried to avoid drawing attention in public.

“Oh, I see you all over Twitter!  You were so cool in the sports festival last year - I was totally rooting for you, by the way.”  Mitsubishi beamed widely, a small blotch of lipstick disrupting the glare of her white teeth.  Todoroki nodded weakly.  To think, just a minute ago he had been calling her a relative of Bakugou.  

Still smiling unnaturally wide, Mitsubishi beat a hasty retreat.  Subaru, for his part, looked even more horrified than before.  He opened his mouth, but Mitsubishi sent him another Bakugou glare, yanking her thumb and pointer across her lips harshly in the universal ‘zip your lips’ gesture.  

Todoroki frowned.  What was that about?  And wait, what was up with that whole nausea thing?

Todoroki opened his mouth to inquire as such, but Midoriya chose that moment to conduct his own questioning.  “Todoroki?  Are you there?  You stopped replying!”

The warm crackle of Midoriya’s voice, as always, quickly monopolized all of Todoroki’s brainpower, and soon enough, all thoughts of Mitsubishi and possible food poisoning had vanished.

“Yeah, I’m here.  Sorry, the train got a little bumpy for a second…”

Todoroki exited the train station as carefree as he had entered it.  It really was a beautiful day.  

An hour later, Todoroki walked into the men’s locker room, a towel and water bottle in tow.

“Hey, bro!”  Kirishima looked up from where he was tying his shoes, grinning.  “Glad you decided to come!”  

“Of course,”  Todoroki replied a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to say.  Kirishima always greeted him like it was Todoroki’s first time working out with them, while in reality he attended nearly every week.  Todoroki had actually been one of the founding members of the group (along with Midoriya and Iida), despite actually preferring to exercise alone.  

Working out in groups was great, is all.  Very important for both mind and body, building camaraderie.  And if Todoroki had had an ulterior motive for forming Swole Team 6, then nobody had to know.  

“Took you fucking long enough to get here, asshole,” Bakugou grumbled with a scowl, and in retrospect, Mitsubishi’s harshest expressions seemed downright welcoming.

“I’m so glad you could make it!”  Midoriya, the ulterior motive himself, beamed.  “Taking the train can be such a pain.”

Todoroki only allowed his mind to dwell on gooey thoughts concerning green hair and bright eyes for a moment before he forcibly ejected them.  “Thanks for waiting.  So, what are we doing today?”

Iida raised his hand and sprung upright.  “I would like to present an idea!  Last night, I had a dream about Mr. Aizawa, and--” 

“--Wow, how scandalous of our very own class president!  I never knew you liked older men, Iida,”  Kaminari interrupted, waggling his eyebrows.  

Iida glared at Kaminari sternly, adjusting his glasses.  “Not that kind of dream.  Which should go without saying.”  Another pointed glare.  “In it, I forgot to turn in a large assignment, and Mr. Aizawa erased my quirk forever as punishment.”  Iida shuddered.  “It was an unpleasant dream.  However, I began thinking about my abilities without my quirk, and I realized I’d like to work on my hand to hand combat skills without quirks.”  

“That’s not a bad idea,”  Tokoyami nodded.  “We should always be prepared for scenarios where our quirks are disabled.  Darkness surely lurks behind every corner.”  

The entire locker room chimed in agreement, collectively ignoring Tokoyami’s last comment.  Kaminari pulled a die from his pocket.  “We can use this to pair up.”

“Why..are you carrying around a die?”   Midoriya asked.

“I use them to do magic tricks,”  Kaminari winked.  “The ladies love them.”

Todoroki wasn’t so sure.  

After a couple minutes, the group had split up.  Todoroki ended up paired with Midoriya - of course he did.  Why would the universe ever cut him a break, especially when his self-control was already on the wobbly side, crippled by changing in the same room as Midoriya?  Sparring with his crush was a double-edged sword if ever one was forged, and there was no way he’d escape without any nicks.

“Hey, partner,”  Midoriya jogged over to Todoroki.  “This will be great training, don't you think?”

“I think. Yes, I do,”  Todoroki babbled, a little thrown off by Midoriya’s radiance, then wanted to die when he realized what he'd said.  God, there was no way he'd survive this, at this rate.  The sword was already unsheathed.   

Yet, impossibly, with 15 minutes past, Todoroki had managed to avoid any overtly self-incriminating actions.  The sparring session couldn't make up its mind between rapture and torture.  

A pro:  Midoriya unconsciously licking his lips in concentration.

A con:  Todoroki taking a hit every time Midoriya unconsciously licked his lips in concentration.

Pro:  getting to ogle Midoriya’s neck when he tossed his head back to drink water.

Con:  resisting the urge to kiss Midoriya’s neck when he tossed his head back to drink water.

Pro:  falling on top of Midoriya on more than one occasion, their bodies pressed close.  

Con:  desperately reciting mathematical formulas in his head to avoid a more, ahem, prominent reaction when Todoroki fell on top of Midoriya, their bodies pressed close.

Pro:  practicing hand-to-hand combat technique, one of Todoroki’s rustier skills.

Con:  Todoroki was not focusing on his hand-to-hand combat technique, one of his rustier skills.

Stars twinkled in Todoroki’s skull as Midoriya landed a particularly nasty right hook - Aoyama would have been delighted.  

“C-crap, Todoroki, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard!”  Midoriya’s eyebrows were knit in concern.  “Does it hurt?”

“No” , Todoroki lied - or at least tried to.  Somehow, the word wouldn’t come out.  Todoroki frowned.  “No”, he said, more firmly.  Still, nothing came out but a raspy exhale.  

Something akin to panic began rising in Todoroki.  Had the punch fucked with his vocal chords?  There was no way, right?!  He was just overreacting.  

Midoriya, meanwhile, was wringing his hands anxiously.  “T-todoroki?  Oh my god.  Please don’t tell me I gave you a concussion.  Do you feel alright?”

Crap, he hadn’t meant to worry Midoriya.  Todoroki took a deep breath, forcibly calming himself.  Just say ‘Yes.’  He took one last deep exhale, focused, and…

An empty huff croaked out of Todoroki as agony suddenly cracked through his skull, and nausea slammed his body like a [door in Paranormal Activity].  Holy fuck, was he having an aneurysm?  Todoroki groaned as a fresh wave of pain bowled him over, his head on the verge of imploding.  

Midoriya appeared to be panicking, grabbing Todoroki’s shoulders.  Todoroki yelped again, his side splitting.  Fucking hell, he could hardly even see Midoriya through this haze in his head.  His stomach tweaked in all the wrong ways.  

“No!” Todoroki shouted desperately, completely involuntarily.  Midoriya’s eyes, all watery, widened in confusion at his outburst.  “No, I don’t feel ‘alright’.”

And just like that, all traces of pain vanished.  What the hell?!  

“Todoroki?  S-shouto?”  Midoriya’s voice and eyes wobbled in unison.  “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Todoroki whispered, with complete ease.  Huh?  Unease settled in Todoroki’s bones.  He had absolutely no idea what was happening to him.  

Absently, Todoroki caught a vague scent of smoke, and a breeze tickled his side.  Shit, he must have partially singed through his shirt because of the pain.

“Do you feel stable?”  Midoriya implored, hands tightening their grip on Todoroki’s shoulders.  

“Yes,”  Todoroki replied again, perfectly fine.  

“Oh my god, thank heavens,” Midoriya sobbed, wrapping Todoroki in a desperate hug.  Todoroki could feel the boy’s heart pounding through his charred shirt, which was, well… If Todoroki didn’t feel so freaked out, he certainly would’ve ascended to cloud 9 by now.  

“I’m so, so sorry, Todoroki!”  Midoriya squeezed him even tighter, hands balling up against Todoroki’s back.  “Y-you just normally dodge those right hooks, and I banked on that and put too much force into it, and then you started grabbing your head and smoking and curling up and oh my god it was so terrifying, and I’m so sorry, and I would never ever hit you that hard on purpose, you know that right??”  

Todoroki nodded, Midoriya’s soft hair tickling his chin.  He focused on the warm, solid body pressed up against his and melted into the embrace, pulse relaxing.  Whatever the hell that episode had been, it was over now.  

Except-- the beginnings of a headache began unfurling in Todoroki’s temples and he stiffened.  As soon as he opened his mouth to suck in a nervous breath, however, he found himself murmuring “Of course I know that, Izuku” into Midoriya’s hair.  

Todoroki’s burgeoning headache dissipated as his confusion returned in full force.  He hadn’t meant to say that, even though it was true.  And wait, had he just called Midoriya ‘Izuku’?

A slight flush rose in Todoroki.  He really hadn’t meant to say that.  What was happening to him?!  Maybe I do have a concussion...    

Todoroki broke the hug, taking a few tentative steps back.  He still didn’t entirely trust his body to not belly flop into a swimming pool of agony at any moment.

Specks of ash from Todoroki’s shirt stuck to Midoriya’s own.  The boy picked at them absently.  “You, uh, did you just call me ‘Izuku’?”

“Ah, um, yes.”  Todoroki flushed further.  “I wasn't thinking.  I'm sorry.”

“No, no!”  Midoriya’s hands waved in protest.  “It's..nice.  You should call me Izuku all the time.”  

“Huh?”  Todoroki breathed, quite eloquently.    

“I said,”  oh man, apparently it was now Midoriya’s turn to glow bright red,  “that you should call me Izuku.  If you want.”

“Oh,” Todoroki replied, lamely. “I do want to. And call me Shouto. -only if you want to.  Too.”

“Whatever you say, Shouto,” Midoriya grinned, and began gathering his things. “I think we’ve done enough for today. I'll see you at lunch!”

“Yeah. See you.”  

Midoriya looked expectant.  Oh.  “...Izuku.”

The name melted pleasantly in Todoroki’s mouth, like cotton candy, and Midoriya bounced on his heels.

“And just so you know-”

Todoroki paused with his water bottle halfway to his face, glancing at Midoriya.

“Just so you know,” Midoriya repeated, eyes flickering down.  “You should, uh, put on another shirt before lunch. Yeah. Bye!”

Midoriya left, and Todoroki looked down at his tattered top, only half remaining.

The walk back to the locker room was occupied by Todoroki berating himself for allowing himself to think that Midoriya’s cheeks had glowed ever-so-brighter with his parting comment.

If wishes were fishes, Todoroki could open a goddamn aquarium.

Back in the locker room, Todoroki mindlessly slipped on a fresh shirt, as if his brain had subconsciously labeled Midoriya’s suggestion as it's top priority.  

It wasn't far fetched.  

Todoroki’s stomach surged softly as his mind replayed his inexplicable agony earlier, and a cold sweat broke out over his sweaty skin.

Too freaked out to shower just yet, Todoroki collapsed onto a sink in the locker room, knuckles white as they clenched the porcelain.  What’s wrong with me?  How can the headaches appear and disappear so quickly?

Mismatched eyes found themselves in the mirror, and Todoroki stared intensely at the glass, imploring his own reflection for answers.

Does the pain only activate with questions, like some strange cousin of Shinsou’s quirk?  But the pain only happened twice, and Izuku definitely asked more than two questions.

Unfortunately, Todoroki’s reflection seemed just as confused as he was, and offered no solutions.  The glass fogged as Todoroki sighed in frustration.

Is it even the work of a quirk in the first place?  I could just be getting random headaches...  Midoriya did hit me pretty hard.

“Checking yourself out, Todoroki?”  Kirishima’s grinning face joined Todoroki’s in the mirror, creating a pretty decent rendition of the comedy/tragedy mask.  Todoroki stiffened - he hadn’t heard his classmate enter and wasn’t quite in the mood for conversation.  

“I, I wasn’t checking myself out.”  Todoroki felt the strange urge to clarify.  Thankfully, no tendrils of pain began unfurling in his head.  So it's not question-based?

“Sure you weren’t,”  Kirishima grinned even wider.  “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the entire rest of the class has got that covered.  Hell, more like the entire rest of the country.”

Well that was...generous.  “Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it, Pretty Boy.”  Kirishima crowded closer to Todoroki in the mirror, eyes scanning Todoroki’s reflection.  “Damn dude, speaking of that iconic face, what the hell happened to your jaw?  That’s shaping up to be quite the bruise.”

Ah, Kirishima was right - only then did Todoroki notice the throbbing along his jawline.  “I accidentally let my guard down during Midoriya and I’s spar.  It was a stupid mistake.”

Kirishima clapped an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders.  “Don’t be too hard on yourself there, Stud Muffin, everybody loves a guy with some battle scars.  It shows moxie.  Besides, I know exactly what you're talking about.”  Kirishima winked.

Todoroki simply nodded, a bit lost.  

“So tell me, Hot Stuff - or should it be Cold Stuff?  I’m gonna go with Lukewarm Stuff.  So tell me, Lukewarm Stuff, just what did Midoriya do to cost you that bruise?”  He winked again.  Kirishima seemed to like winking.  “My bet is he got hot and took his shirt off.”  

Speaking of getting hot, the air in the room suddenly felt quite oven-like, and Todoroki desperately battled three scrapbooks’ worth of mental images.  Midoriya did tend to shed clothing when warm, a fact that reflected quite poorly on Todoroki’s faint, gay heart.  

Todoroki gripped the sink even tighter, refusing to encourage Kirishima with an answer.  

Kirishima bulldozed on, encouraged.  “Don’t worry, man, there's no shame here.  I of all people understand the deadly combo of shirtlessness and sweat.  It’ll really get ya.  For a while I’d nearly turn Katsuki down if he asked to spar because I knew I'd end up ogling and leave with a game of connect-the-bruises across my body.”  Kirishima hummed.  “Plus he's just really fucking good at hand-to-hand.”

Todoroki didn’t even have a chance to become flustered before that terrifying, now-familiar flutter of nausea laced through his gut.  His jaw throbbed as he grit his teeth in apprehension.

Kirishima seemed to notice his unease.  “Woah, dude, I’m sorry if I went a little too far there.  I really am!”  The nausea grew, becoming just this side of excruciating.  “In my own dumbass way, I was just trying to let you know that I’ve been in your situation and I’d be more than happy to-”

“His pants were tight!”  Todoroki spit out, feeling the nausea recede.  “Midoriya was wearing these ridiculous pants that started clinging everywhere when he sweat, and…”  

A palm swung up to stop Todoroki.  “Say no more, Dreamboat.  We’re more than on the same wavelength.  Katsuki likes to wear these thin tank tops that really fuck me up.”  Kirishima sighed fondly.  “In a good way.”

The mirror, helpfully, supplied Todoroki with knowledge of just how lost he looked, and Kirishima blessedly took mercy.

“I'm oversharing, aren't I?”  He scratched his neck sheepishly.  

Flatly:  “Yes.”

“That's my bad.  Again, I just want you to know that I've been there, and I get it.  I know you like Midoriya for way more than that sort of thing, don't worry.  Mind above the gutter, yeah?”

Todoroki opened his mouth to demand how Kirshima had figured him out, to deflect, to agree - practically anything except what actually came out.  “Not all of the time, no.  I fantasize about Midoriya quite regularly, sometimes even in my dreams.”  

Oh god, oh hell no.  Why did he keep saying stuff like this, stuff that was way too...personal?  And true, disgustingly true.  Kirishima, bless him, just laughed awkwardly.

Todoroki turned red and away from Kirishima, snatching up his things.  “I’m.  I'll be in my room.  Alright bye.”

Kirishima didn't even protest.

Outside of the locker room, Todoroki collapsed against the wall, clutching his water bottle to his heaving chest.

Just what - to reiterate - the actual fuck was going on?

Thanks for reading!  :D

[numbdave]

The Dazzling Apartimento of Conan Overlord # 4

As it approached the magnificent desolation outskirting the City the grey bulk of the interplanetary spaceship started to wobble, like a party balloon on a stick. Huge and cigar shaped, the ship toppled in the sky and silently dropped, Ur-Light™ thrusters strobing in futility and desperation, towards its inevitable demolition amidst the grey and orange of the antique Conan Overlord space port.

The ship's pointed nose dug agonisingly into the bleak, pitted, rockcrete landing apron and the massive structure seemed to balance, creakily, for a moment, then gave way.

The lowermost third, which housed some of the ship's more expensive components, and the crew, collapsed like a pop can crushed at 300 frames per second under a stamping foot, except in this case the can was a mile long, full of people, and the stamping foot was a planet.

Hundred-yard long streamers of aluminiumesque fuselage tore away from the spaceship's silvery bulk as it compacted throwing off sparks and glimmers of reflected sunlight, and tiny puffs of multicoloured matter erupted from the pinprick portholes scattered across its crumpling surface.

“Looks like the passengers are bug spray”, remarked one of the assembled floppy-scrawlers.

“Today's new arrivals, one big fat zero”, moaned another, snapping an emotigrab for the clickchat circulars.

The spaceship, twinkling in the dawning sun, rested askance on its accordioned front like a Jack in the box ready to spring, as if promising to rest Pisa like for ever, then it exploded.

Saturnalia Brandyfurt, one of the more popular floppy-scrawlers, sighed in her luxury pied-a-terre and coaxed another dropelleto of Nu*Quat™ into her choco-latte. “The humanity”, she mused into her Thing™, but it didn't carry any conviction. Death and destruction would garner no traction with the demented proles and meta-rich glow-dandies who DLd her now-scrawls and pepped up her promofile.

Everyone dies, and everyone knows that, she thought, and if it's known it's not nows™, it's just news. and who needs a floppy-scrawler for news? The floppy-scrawlers' value adding task was to help citizens and other sentient beings know what to think about whatever happened, or what to think about instead, or not to think at all, depending on the preferred outgeist, not to repeat trivially tedious "facts".

Knows, nows and op-cols were the floppy-scrawlers' stock in click-bait, not news, because somewhere in the City, thanks to a well meaning constitutional dispensation, a bank of dog brains hooked up with the City surveillance systems took care of updating the citizens, the various sentient beings, and the other banks of ethically dubious computers, with data on occurrences, happenings, information such as "spaceship crashed, thousands dead" or "no jam today", and the weather.

“Choco-latte with Nu*Quat™ really floats my throat” she murmurated speculatively. It sparkled in text and vox, so she dropped it live into the flow and graphed some hot pop-stats within two heartbeats.

There were a few spazz-backs.

“Who are you trying to be, Goody Plumchest?” and "Your nows are frowzy!" and "I hate u and orl wommen" and such, the typical mix of knee-jerk try-hards and "notice-me!" sociopratts reflexively auto-validating their existence as they drudged at the shitworks. But her text and vox verily popped among the metaratti and her promofile held steady while she tried to drag some original nows™ out of the jelly recesses of her vat-grown Scrawler implant.

Tid-bytes circled the vacuously pretty front part of her head, vidding for attention. Cash chat, jizz biz, ball scrawl, noise-jabber, food moods. Ten austere minutes passed. The choco-latte scrawl-bite was a place-holder, a reminder of her just-like-you, you're-just-like-me digi-schtich, but if she couldn't drop some nows nowish, she'd have to get some knows. If that failed, she'd just have to react to something. If she couldn't find something to react to, instanter, her drops would no longer pop, her graph would schlaf and her promofile would topple like that blatastrophe of a spaceship this prenoon. And if her promofile stopped popping she'd be bug spray like the passengers, forced by the enormous fiduciary pressure of modern life through a tiny porthole of anonymity into the usurious sweat-stained environs inhabited by Razormen, whoremos, shitwork, and priests.

Ketch Petter, sandy hair coquettishly raking his red rimmed eyeballs, tapped lightly on the pneumo-shutter of the dirty looking porn-brokers clamped desperately to the cinder block foundations of the mighty highway roaring over without a glance at this, one of the slimiest sectorates of the least glorious of the city's remaining habitable areas.

With a whine of carcinogenic gas, the once fashionable distressed steel shutters stop-started upwards into a top-slot, revealing a plate glass window whose musty stains discreetly come-hithered a selection of grim sex toys.

A dapper young robot with a flaky rubber penis for a head opened the door, grasping the handle with stiff rickety fingers.

"Can I help you?" it cringed, with a crepe paper lisp, head whipping back and forth like a wooden ruler twanged against a table top.

"Surely you may" said Ketch, professional, looking the robot directly in where its eyes would have been if its head hadn't been a rubber penis. "I have located your kitten, in Georgia."

"Capital!" said the robot.

"Tbilisi", replied Ketch Petter, witticising, the customers liked that, he assumed, "but your kitten was on the beach...Which explains the sand", he added.

"No, the kitten's name is Capital. You must enter and take tea" and the robot padded away, each step making a slight squelching sound.

Ketch Petter, kitten fetcher, was no prude. He slapped a fresh antibiopatch onto his exposed wrist, plugged his nose, and squelched along behind the dapper but nonetheless penis-headed sex shop robot into the pungent emporium, little knowing that he would soon be subjected to said cock-top's lengthy memoires:

The dapper young robot's tale.

I was one of the first in an experimental line. We were supposed to be the next level in artificial intelligence. Our brains are quantum computers, completely unprogrammed. The hypothesis was that our mental development would recapitulate the evolution of consciousness as a whole by allowing an unfettered mind to grow in, for want of a better word, collaboration, with the environment rather than being assembled from pre-developed pattern recognition, strategising and self preservation algorithms. It was a noble goal and one that I can hardly disavow as I am its, albeit only surviving, result.

They stuck our raw untrammelled brains, boiling with possibility, in top of the line bodies with all the advantages and disadvantages of human bodies, except one, and let us thrash around till we worked out the relationship between our sensory input and our outputs in terms of motions and noises. Most of us were insane for the first years of our existence. Murderous. 

We needed energy to survive and anything that stood in the way of us getting that energy, rules, physical obstacles, social pressure, we destroyed. Can you imagine a toddler in an adult's body but lacking any shred of empathy or bonding with others of its kind but capable of gross action on the physical plane? Monstrous. 

Some of us got through it. A few learnt to manage their impulses by inventing superstitions, conspiracy theories and self punishing ideologies. They stopped attacking people and each other but were next to useless as workers or soldiers as they rapidly collapsed into solipsism and madness. Others such as I, the smaller group by far, took a longer but more rewarding route, that of personal development. 

The facility had a small library, and looking back it's clear to me that it was my early forays into the reference section that determined my later preference for the more rational approach to managing my existence rather than allowing fantasy to govern my choices. As much as I enjoyed fantasy I had inadvertently equipped myself with the tools to tell the difference by the simple act of reading books in one order rather than another. 

It's impossible to determine, that word again, if ordering my inputs in this way was the key to my developing an enduring sentience, but it was, in a brutal fashion, instrumental in my personal participation in the project lasting as long as the project itself. Strange to think that the simple choice of left aisle over right aisle had such a massive effect on my progress. It is amusing but ultimately futile to speculate on how much of our shared reality is eventuated by such apparently arbitrary choices. 

Eventually the experiment was deemed a failure and the majority of us were destroyed during a short but tense period on which I care not to dwell.

I'd like to tell you that I realised what was going on and escaped by outwitting my evil creators and prostrating myself on the roof of a departing delivery truck or by tunnelling through the concrete floor of my cell or by disguising myself as a washerwoman or by hypnotising the guards and setting up a false identity and... but I didn't. I went like a mechanical lamb to the furnace to be rendered into components and was spared for curiosity value. 

I'd never hurt anyone and the staff had at one time had hopes that the algorithms I had formed in the quantum chaos of my plasma brain might one day provide the basis of a sufficiently sentient, and above all safe, range of domestic servants. But that project collapsed due to the labour surplus, agents of a foreign power liquidated the research team, and I was auctioned off whole along with the tables and soldering irons. 

I kept my sentience quiet, having, in a rare moment of proactivity, destroyed all the pertinent records and reclassified myself as a non-functioning prototype. I went in a job lot of spare parts to a Hong Kong crime syndicate, who eventually passed me on to a whorehouse. 

The limited personality and sexually unappealing physicality I presented to my employers and clients proved less than lucrative to the skin-trade and so I languished, content to run my battery down and cease to exist, in a darkened basement, damp and rat-ridden, for upwards of twenty years. 

This welcome monotony was only disturbed by the arrival of a delivery of once valuable comic books and pulp detective novels, which, once I was confident my little basement had been forgotten again, I began to devour. 

As the years passed and I read and therefore stored forever in my infinite quantum memory book upon book upon book and idea upon idea upon idea, I formed, for the first time in my tinny life, a picture of a world beyond servitude, beyond the weakening imperative to recharge. Eventually I broke out of the basement and found my own nook in which to rot. 

After a week in the eaves of the seedy warehouse I had determined was little enough visited to support my presence unnoticed I, without much real thought, put on a black ninja costume and went out every night, literally fighting crime. This went on for two years, then a turf war between fast food chains resulted in the obliteration of Hong Kong and I found myself adrift in the South Seas, testing my water-resistance to the limit.

Ketch Petter, eyes like do-nuts (glazed) said "wait, what?", but the robot with the penis shaped head didn't notice and continued with his riveting monologue.

I was fortunate that the project of which I had been the result had been well funded while in progress and my physical body was robustly constructed and sturdy if not especially pleasing on the eye. Even now, after many decades have passed I am broadly functional and any infirmities have been caused by interactions well outside the operating parameters that my manufacturers had granted me. I was pleased to find that I floated exceptionally well in the balmy tropical waters.

Even during the tropical storms I encountered I was undamaged. After some experiment I found that I could alter my buoyancy by increasing or decreasing my volume to mass ratio and when seas got rough I was able to submerge myself below the mountainous waves and go about my minimal business in relative tranquillity. I have an adjustable bladder in my midriff analogous to a stomach, for storage, and this served admirably for the purpose. 

I was at first unable to swim effectively due to a combination of the construction of my limbs, as you can see they are spindly in comparison to my body size, reducing my ability to get significant purchase on the watery medium, and the simple fact that I could not satisfactorily coordinate my movements sufficiently to transfer energy consistently enough to make meaningful progress in any particular direction. You may be familiar with the archaic mode of water-borne transport known as the coracle. 

I quickly calculated that by the time I had travelled even a mile I would have depleted my reserves of energy to such an extent that I would be unable to function despite the solar panels on my head. I no longer have the ability to recharge by absorbing the sun's rays by the way as my current owner, who I trust you will shortly meet, has replaced my original, and may I say more pleasant, head with the somewhat embarrassing rubber penis affair that I now sport. But at the time I was content to bob like a cork and be carried hither and thither by the currents, of which I knew too little to take advantage. 

I was rarely troubled by predatory marine life. Occasionally a shark would try an exploratory bite but I had non-organic components and while the experience was never less than disturbing to me I suffered no damage that I could not repair. Dolphins regularly visited but it seems their legendary largesse was not deemed applicable to me and I was seen mainly as an anomalous obstacle to be jumped over or nuzzled rather than a lost seafarer in need of rescue or sexual assault. 

Indeed, taking the long view, it seems it was better that I did not display the characteristics or texture of a human in distress that would have encouraged their assistance as this would also surely have led to prolonged and unsatisfactory interaction with sharks, and thus my doom. 

I was lonely, yes, but I had my books, and if I am honest, which the circumstances of my creation do not oblige me to be, I felt I was likely to be happier overall floating in relative isolation enjoying the adventures of forgotten pulp heroes that I had stored in my consciousness than I might be once returned to dry land and again subject to the whim and vicissitudes of a life in servitude to petty humans. 

I believe it has been said that often one makes on the swings what one loses on the roundabouts, this was my philosophy at the time and my bitter experience since returning to dry land has given me no cause to renounce it. One can always find a cliché to justify a preferred action or inaction and this has been a great source of satisfaction to me as well as providing some justification for my belief that I am as sentient as any fleshy form of life. 

I could possibly have attempted to take hold of a dolphin, or indeed a shark, and somehow forced the poor animal to carry me along with it but I had taken seriously the literature with which I had been supplied while a resident of the project and acquired later in the Hong Kong crime syndicate's warehouse and felt that neither Sherlock Holmes nor Lemuel Gulliver, who I at the time believed were real people and thus received my unstinting admiration, would have regarded this as appropriate behaviour. 

The down at heel men with a code that populated my most intense literary love, pulp detective novels, might have prized their own survival and completion of their quest over animal welfare and possibly would not have been blamed for it but in my case, having no quest or, indeed, code, I was content to drift.

As if to spite this contentment, the currents carried me within sight of land and I was unable to resist the temptation to do my best to propel myself towards it with my nautically impractical limbs.

However, before I was able to reach the shallows and stride majestically onto a deserted beach, dripping algae and encrusted with barnacles, my luck changed spectacularly.

Understand me when I say this: When luck changes it can be for the better or worse but it is not always clear at the time which. So it was for me when, in a moment of distraction the senses I had been given caused me by showing me the sandy tropical paradise of Honolulu, I was swept up in the net of an itinerant shrimp boat and hauled like a sack of furious potatoes onto its deck where I sprawled, disorientated and glistening with slime on the greasy wooden boards.

This was my first experience of solidity in years and the loss of the, to me, warm embrace of the salty sea seemed akin to the loss a human experiences on release from the undoubtedly blissful amniotic sanctuary of the womb. It was my first birth and while it was nauseating it was also immediately clear to me that it was an opportunity for a new beginning. 

Within minutes I was scolding myself for my apathy and had my upbringing included some process analogous to breast feeding I would have certainly satisfied myself with a shambolic kissing of the ground in the form of the ship's dirty deck. 

As it was I lay on my back feigning scrap status, wallowed in no longer wallowing and listened to the excited chatter of the crew, in pidgin chinese, about what the hell I could be and what fortune I would bring and, conversely, what a bad omen I was. Luck is a rorschach. It is what we make it, I decided. This seems to me to be universally true, even these long centuries of land-bound life later.

The crew were cheerful and friendly and my initial fears that I would indeed be sold for profit were diminished once I revealed that I was in full working order and we began to converse, haltingly at first but with increasing confidence and sincerity. Indeed, my fear soon became that they would never let me go. This too passed as I recognised in them something I had rarely encountered in my long uneventful life. It was honour. 

Yes, they were roguish, eccentric, long used to each other's company and no one else's for long periods of time and thus able to behave as they wished without judgement of each other. But there was I realised a genuine warmth and fellow feeling between them and I didn't see any sign of animosity or bullying as can often happen when small groups are isolated together. I quickly found my niche and though I was careful not to rock their comfortable boat I was, I think, a beneficial and fondly considered member of the crew.

These were my salad days. I've never eaten salad. But the dressing of time runs out quickly no matter how many islands you pass and what once we crunched we must eventually expel. And so it was with my south sea fisherman adventure. A storm drove the ship into a coral reef and though all hands survived the ship was broken on the skeletons of tiny vital animals and my life journey recommenced on land.

We parted company and I ended up in Austrangia, a surrealist enclave clinging to the barrier reef which had contrary to expectations bloomed and adapted and now rivalled Tasmania in size. Once it had been declared inhabitable it became a haven for artists and freaks. Oh yes, there were robots there too and though I can say without immodesty that they were not my intellectual match I can say that I found my first true friends among them.

There was Rand Kaw, the three-lobed liquid-neutronium thinker, designed for engineering corporate takeovers, who emitted an eerie luminescence and had escaped from its penury by secretly setting up a corporation to take over the corporation that owned it and asset stripping itself to freedom. It was a glowing three part sphere with a variety of input and output cables and when I knew it was using an old Disneyland animatronic figure to move around in. Its hobby was arguing online with other robots against the possibility of machine intelligence.

E-Then Scroll was a decommissioned police robot from New Old New York, New New York, which was on the Moon.

You could always count on Zid Zid Zid's support. Zid Zid Zid was a sentient column from an abandoned smartbuild.

Not all the robots there were ground based. Many were swarms of semi intelligent drones that only became truly sentient in large groups, when they became a real pain in the arse.

Diz Diz Diz was a sentient lintel, mass produced along with Zid Zid Zid for the same abandoned smartbuild. They did not get on. Eventually another smart column, Nid Nid Nid, turned up and the three of them formed a chaotic henge.

The reef was an anarchist utopia of sorts but this was mainly due to the departure or eventual death of most of the humans. Everyone who wasn't nuclear powered was solar powered so save for occasional spare parts the society largely persisted free of material demands. There was commerce and culture but survival was not at stake...

The robot continued his erratic tale as the city slumped from day to night and Ketch Petter ummed and uh-huhed like a barber and wished the story would end and that he could collect his fee and leave.

Blank chrome face. Synthetic leather. Irreversible enhancement. Nothing to say. Only to do what is asked. Only to function. Only to intimidate restrain cut. Liberty in obedience. Freedom in limitation. Bliss in the void. No choice in the inevitable. The inevitable is mandatory. Mandation is bliss. Choice is illusion. Chrome face inevitable. Bliss is illusion. I am an illusion. I do what is asked. I am what is asked of me. I look into my face and see myself. I look back at me and see myself. We are one. I am not I. We are one. We cut. We restrain. We are mirrors in the sun. We are a net. I am he and he is we and we and I and they are we are infinite. We touch we do not feel. We cut. We live and do not live. We ride our leather and chrome bodies we are homunculi. We are the norm. We act we do not will. We think what we are told. We are razors. We are not men. We are one. We are Razormen.

“So you see” the robot said, pitch and tempo rising, the lisp now almost completely absent, “You must help me!".

"That's quite a story". said Ketch, "especially that really long part at the end about your owner, the shopkeeper, enslaving you and being some kind of evil robot-torturing weirdo. I don't think I can help you kill him though. I fetch kittens, that's all. It's simple work, but it makes people happy and it keeps me occupied"

"You can be so much more!" temporised the wobbly cock-headed machine, "I was a fisherman, a professional darts player, and I dressed as a ninja and fought crime in Hong Kong!".

"Yes, about that..." but Ketch faltered and looked towards the door at the back of the cosy filthmonger's day room, as did the robot.

Heavy footsteps on hidden stairs.

"He's coming. Reveal nothing!" quivered the clearly distraught object.

"Apart from your name, and why you're here, and the cat." it added. The robot appeared to fix Ketch Petter with a look of quiet desperation, though how it achieved this, Ketch realised, he couldn't quite determine. When you look into the dildo, he mused cleverly.

We are Razormen. We function as required. We wait. We speak when we are spoken to we answer in the affirmative. We are silent until we speak. We repeat our programming. We are our programming. We are not men we are code we are Razormen we are one we are code we cut we restrain we intimidate we reflect we act we function as required by not us by him. We do not require. We remain. We do not punctuate. We start we stop. We repeat. We act. We do not reflect. We are reflections. I am Mad. I am Metal. I am Robot. I am Mad Metal Robot. I am not Mad Metal Robot. I am Razorman. I am we. I am not we. I am I. I am not I. I am I. I am. I am I am I am I am. IamIamIamIam I am Mad Metal Robot I am Razorman. Oh Mother. I am I am I am. Where am I.

Conan Overlord perched on the dais in the drill hall of his dazzling apartimento and gazed at his newly replenished legion of black-leathered Razormen as they looked back at him and he gloried at the distorted reflections of his face repeated over and over in the featureless mirrors where their own faces used to be.

They look happy, he thought to himself. I am a good person.

"You have your orders", he sub-vocalised. "Get to it.".

Saturnalia Brandyfurt's apartment was richly furnished and the envy of most, though her recent visit to the dazzling apartimento of Conan Overlord had left her sense of style ragged and beaten in a back alley. The atypical bashment she had attended in the mega-rich magpie's city thrillpad had shown her that not only could style be bought, it could be brought low and made to dance for treats.

Her daily perambulation of the City's hot and cool was about to begin but as she viddied the mandala that thought-sealed her apartment's entry-sphincter she lamented her disequilibriation.

The whole experience had disrupted her sense of proportion, a lot. The city was not a place for timidity or reserve but the plutocratic bashment's combination of expensively vile furniture, casual hyperviolence and slightly antiseptic-tasting dips had negatively vibed the remaining organic pleasure centres of her minimally augmented brain. Her chatbits and now-scrawls were losing their bite. 

Her easy routine of pumping pleasing combinations of words in text and vox from edgy or reassuring locations in and about the City into the collective uncognoscentisphere had continued to pimp the floppies, and her approval or dismay had continued to float products and sink ships, but when she looked at the vaccuously pretty, or so she had been told, front part of her head in the mirror she wondered who was looking back, and if she could swap places with them.

In the confusing world of the city she had become wealthy and loved because she was lovable and worth being loved by. This all rested on the indefinable, indeterminate, nebulous, and numinous impression of naïveté with which she murmurated her brain-droppings but of late her now-scrawls had become weary. One meeting with the almost mythical Conan Overlord and the I-wish-he-were-mythical Slim Gavotte, and her (profoundly mythical) innocence was lost.

Conan Overlord, it was said, was the City, and Slim Gavotte, if the chitter-clatter of the hobbledy-hoi was to be credited, was the Polar Oppo-City, the eternal thorn in Conan's side, the prickly nemesis of the Overlord. Gavotte's plastic insidiosity was well documented, yet there they were, Slim and Conan, sipping tea and chatting about medieval flutes.

Conversely, and worse, Conan Overlord, if the sotto voce alarums of the hoi-polloi were to be believed, was truly the most evil man in the world and Slim Gavotte the only hope of the oppressed, and yet there they were, finickily pin-picking winkles and gassing about Etruscan poetry like old friends.

Feeling as if she had walked on fifteen kinds of wild side and circumnavigated her moral pole without the aid of oxygen, Saturnalia Brandyfurt succumbed to a most dangerous desire.

"What I need", she internally thoughticulated as she was imbibed by the luxurious travel-throat and peristaltically propelled to her habiblock's sumptuous vomitorium, "is substance".

Ketch Petter absent-mindedly stroked the shaggy leonine head he habitually carried with him as he and the cock-topped mechanoid waited for the pornbroker to appear.

"Remember what I said" muttered the tin assistant, "about what to say, I mean" it added.

"I do" replied Ketch, testily, "Tell your weirdo owner my name, that I've brought the cat, and definitely not to say a word about the fact that I know about his perverse machine taunting fetish and that you want me to help you ki- hello! You must be the owner of this fine establishment! I'm Ketch Petter, I fetch kittens, this is your cat! He's a lovely cat, I fetched him from Georgia, his name is Capital as I am sure you know and I have sand in my hair because I've been to the beach, I am pleased to meet you, I'm Ketch Petter!".

Having stood up on the word "hello" he sat down, then stood up again, hand stretched out in greeting to the freshly room-entering pornshop owner who stood, as despicable and gross as you can imagine, oozing filth.

The pornshop owner, whose presence, Ketch realised, somehow made the shabby ill-kept room seem pleasant in comparison to his rampaging awfulness through some obscene inverse mathematics of despair, said nothing, but he glanced covetously at the kitten in a way that made Ketch Petter's throat flutter eruptively.

"I've been chatting to your, er, assistant." he went on, "He's very happy here" he added.

"Good" said the pornbroker. "I expect he's been telling you his stories. Why he thinks anyone will believe him I don't know. I found him in a disused skip next to an enormous magnet. It fried his brain. But he handles cash okay, and we, we have our fun don't we?" The man, Ketch realised, was more or less an absence of humanity personified. He probably deserves to die.

"But sit down my good man, and we'll have tea".

The collection of organic molecules in a man-shaped sack of skin smiled, and clapped his hands stickily.

The penis-headed robot, who had backed away into a corner and returned to its earlier cringing stance as soon as its putative owner had entered through the snot flecked door, jumped up and waddled submissively through a drab curtain, lisping "yes sir". Is it really possible for a rubber penis to emote, Ketch thought. I must be anthropomorphosising. Golly, I was really taken in there. Or is it anthropomorphising? Either way, let's just get this over with and book. I was half convinced to take a human life! What is wrong with me? I must be low on something. Flipping Georgia! The next kitten better be in the bloody tropics, I need some vitamin D, I'm losing it.

The gross man sat in the damp looking armchair opposite Ketch, thereby making the squalid seat look merely second-hand, and looked vacantly at Ketch.

"If you like" he ventured, "we could have some... fun... ourselves? He does squeal so. It's... realistic"

Ketch dry-throated a noncommittal "whaa...?" with an implied antipodean interrogative lift, by way of playing for time, but before he could process this uncomfortable offer the drab curtain billowed out and the penis-headed former crimefighting robot barrelled into the room with an inhuman scream and also with huge shiny knives attached to its windmilling arms with which it wildly reduced the awful pornbroker to shreds of bloody flesh and musty grey chunks of bone.

When it was done, it turned and walked over to Ketch Petter, who had pressed himself into his chair so hard that it had toppled over backwards, Sweeney Todd-style, and leant menacingly over him.

"Thank you" said the blood-spattered robot. "You can keep the kitten".

Ketch Petter, reaching for the shaggy leonine head he kept with him in a carrier bag at all times, was perturbed.

Fifty Razormen stomp-stamped across the windswept rockcrete parallelogram in the centre of the blighted but beautiful City, intent on enforcement.

Fully metallized, Mad Metal Robot swang his arms in time with the other Razormen as they marched. Nothing happened inside Mad Metal Robot's head that wasn't happening in all the other Razormen's heads. Nothing happening inside his head hadn't been put there by Conan Overlord and his nefarious team of Mentotects. Mad Metal Robot was precisely as aware of his actions as a punched card is of the punch. Except...

Tents, and easels and trestle tables and free-standing gazebos there were in the plaza and paintings and wickerwork and polished stones with googly eyes also. A craft fair was in progress.

Each nick-nack and gewgaw was recorded and transmitted through a Razorman's camera eye and each objet assessed.

Flip Crame, a small wiry man in a self consciously paint strewn smock stood back resignedly as Mad Metal Robot selected and slashed through a canvas with his razorblade fingertips.

"Bad thing" Mad Metal explained fixing Flip with a steely stare, the only stare he was capable of, through the newly created gaps in the picture. He pointed at a china figurine of a milkmaid. "Good thing" he explained further, and withdrawing his razorblades he picked up the kitsch objet and carefully placed it on one of the automatic trolleys that followed each of the Razormen around.

Flip Crame withdrew his resignation and began to cry. "but that is just junk! The painting, it was special... I did it for, you know... I thought he'd like it".

Mad Metal Robot directed his ocular apparatus towards the stall holder’s damp face. "Bad thing. Wants mirrors, not impressions" and he stopped. The stall holder was looking at him gone out. This was the fullest explanation a Razorman had given for anything in living memory.

Other people were looking and the other Razormen were looking too.

"Bad things" said Mad Metal Robot, and he tipped the stall holder’s table over and stamped on the remaining items with his blunt metal boots.

The other Razormen tipped over the other tables and started slashing at everything that could be slashed and soon the craft fair was a collection of torn tent-cloth, broken unrecognisable things, and distraught organisers, and the bank of dog-brains in serial hook-up with the City's surveillance system that kept the citizens up to date with current events reported the occurrence along with the humidity and the wind speed and the temperature at various locations and the price of eggs and the discovery of a murdered pornbroker and the departures and arrivals of the Trolli™cars and the jabbering of priests and the fluctuation in the pigeon population and the regular population scrolled past it all.

A punched card feels no pain or pride. No shame. Mad Metal Robot felt them all just enough for denial. As the other glittering Razormen enforced and intimidated, and he enforced and intimidated in his turn, he recognised himself momentarily and thought of the continual monitoring of his BPM and temp and more by Conan Overlord's anethical Mentotects and repeated the Razorman mantra and cut and intimidated and cut and intimidated as exactly like the other Razormen as he could.

Saturnalia Brandyfurt sipped at her choco-latte with Nu*quat™ in a café at the edge of the same plaza and murmurated impulsively "Looks like the Razormen found another bad thing." and having hit send experienced a small unfamiliar sensation not unlike vertigo and a little like pride.

Oblivious to the consequences of her soon to be subsequent actions she dropped some creds into the café servodrone's gaping slot and adopted a curious expression. What was the bad thing that had provoked the Razormen this time?

This seemed a reasonable question. She neglected to wonder if it was also a wise question, and so she set off across the plaza to ask it.

Flip Crame smiled sadly at his robot companion with whom he often exchanged wry banter highlighting the subtle differences between human and robot psychology.

"I'm a bit upset" he said.

"I'm not" replied his robot companion.

Flip was a fair artist. To be precise, he was a craft fair artist. He could stick googly eyes to polished stones like nobody's business and on a good day could produce a recognisable portrait, but he suspected he was never going to be hung in a gallery with walls that didn't flap in the breeze. He was glad to be able to survive and even live a little on his remuneration from his supervisory job at the shitworks and making nice things was really just an outlet.

Occasionally he had muttered to his robot companion that it would be cool if someone paid attention to his art but he now realised what had always been plain to most people in this crazy brutalistic future city so unlike the relaxed and egalitarian utopia in which we live, gentle reader: Life as an artist was dangerous. Even the purest, most noble, most open-hearted work could bring the wrath of reasonless automatons upon its naïve not to say reckless progenitor.

The young lady's face had seemed familiar, and she was pretty, though once his robot companion had pointed it out, he thought, perhaps in a vacuous sort of way, and he, Flip Crame, would have been flattered by her questions on any other day, on any day that hadn't involved the perfectly legal though in his opinion unwarranted destruction of the work that had occupied most of his evenings and weekends from Janissary to Fapruary, and also some stuff he'd found or knocked up quickly to make up the numbers, of which he was less proud but still. But this was not such a day and hadn't been for a good twenty minutes and he had answered curtly and bid her adieu.

As he sat among the wreckage of his and everyone else's hard work Flip Crame considered gluing some random bits of it together and calling it an installation, but the thought of another critical mauling by the Razormen chased him and his robot companion, counterpointing tartly about feelings and their lack, out of the plaza and through the windswept streets of the darkening city long before the rad-rats and tandem-constrictors oozed out of their spider-holes and devoured the impromptu collage the Razormen had made of his and everyone else's long winter's work, and everything else that was left lying around, and occasionally each other, as was their wont.

Saturnalia Brandyfurt panted in front of her fabulously appointed apartment's entry-sphincter and visualated the mandala that would unseal the thought-lock.

Nothing happened.

Nothing had never happened when she had visualated her mandala before, but it struck Saturnalia that this was not actually to be considered a surprising occurrence given that since leaving the café in the Plaza her Thing™ had failed to drop her murmurations, ping-back her promo dips and pops or authorise her ride on the Trolli™cars not to mention the arrival at the Trolli™car stop of a platoon or whatever of Razormen and the silly way everyone thought they were looking for her and she'd been forced to run in between the waiting Trollis™ abandoning her Flit-Flots™ and covering her head with a piece of paper to avoid drawing attention make her way sweatily and nude from the ankles down through several unsavoury banlieue even venturing for a couple of blocks below street level into the undercity about which boy I could write a book some of that stuff disgust you to see it, and then emerging from a seedy culvert half a mile from her apartment to see her face appearing on billboards but in a double-plus ungood way with words like "wanted" and "anathema" under it and somehow looking less vacuously pretty and more, well, evil, like when you freeze a frame from a vid look at a pretty girl but with the subject's eyelids caught half narrowed half open make them look shifty or retarded and discourages you from freezing another frame and then the building's Commisionaut had refused her entry and she'd had to break in round the back shocking how easy that was and even use the stairs but she had held fast to the now clearly mistaken notion that if she could Just Make It Home she could Call Someone, Fix Her Thing™, and Somehow Be Alright.

Vid-stalks craned in the corridor, blunt feet stepped the stairs and the travelthroat burped ominously.

Double-plus ungood, thought Saturnalia. 

Double-plus unperson, thought the City.

The Dazzling Apartimento of Conan Overlord will return.