#i love the way he moves so much. his animations. like wow...movement...energy... that sure is a guy! and hes doing things!!

[casualavocados]

The only fucking person who will look at you is me.

Chiang Tien as AI DI KISEKI: DEAR TO ME (2023)

[beelsnack]

I Put A Spell On You - Obey Me Boys and A Witch MC

I may have mentioned it in an ask or something before, but I'm actually a practicing witch. (Sorry, Mammon.) So, in honor of spooky season, I bring you witch MC!

----

Lucifer: "Can I ask you something?"

Lucifer looked up from the report he had been working on. In the House of Lamentation, hearing that question was very rarely followed by anything but disaster. He bit back the urge to sigh and turned to look at the human. "You may."

"Have you ever been summoned by a witch?" the human set down their pen. They had taken refuge in Lucifer's room in an attempt to actually get their homework done, and had been working diligently up until this point. "Like, successfully."

He raised an eyebrow. "No, I haven't. I doubt any mortal witch would have the power to actually summon me."

"That's what I thought," they leaned back in their chair, stretching.

"What brought this on?"

"A witch I know up in the Human Realm swore up and down that he had, quote unquote, ‘summoned Lucifer himself.’ No one believed him anyway, but I figured I would ask just to confirm my suspicions.”

“No, it is highly unlikely that a mortal witch would have the magical power to summon me,” Lucifer chuckled darkly. “Although many have tried.”

“What happens to them when they do?” they asked, completely abandoning their work at this point. Part of Lucifer wanted to reprimand them for getting distracted, but he couldn’t deny that he liked having their attention on him. “Do you curse them or something?”

“I do nothing,” he smirked as they got up to lean against his desk. Perhaps he could stand to take a break as well. “The minor demons they actually summon, however, often have their fun with those foolish enough to try.”

“Oh, I’ll bet the Little Ds have a blast with them, huh?” the human grinned.

“Ask Number Two about the time he possessed a ouija board and convinced a human they would die if they ever wore the color blue again.”

Laughing, the human moved to return to their spot at his coffee table where they had spread out all of their study materials. Lucifer, however, had different plans.

“Oof!”

In one quick, fluid motion, he had grasped the human around the waist and tugged them into his lap. The movement had mussed up their hair, and he affectionately moved a few strands out of their face to see their adorable pout.

“You know, my dear, you are the only human witch able to summon me. You should wear that fact like a badge of honor.”

Mammon: “Now that’s just playin’ dirty!”

The human had to make a concentrated effort not to laugh at Mammon. “Yeah, they really didn’t have to go that far. They already have you by the balls.”

“They do not!” Mammon growled, crossing his arms. “Nobody has control over The Great Mammon!”

“Except for the multitude of humans who you made pacts with because they promised you a few bucks.”

“Wow, okay.”

Shaking their head, they gently plucked the doll out of Mammon’s palm. It was a standard poppet, made out of cloth. “Why don’t you just have Lucifer or Satan undo the curses?”

“Because,” Mammon huffed. “Human magic is different from demon magic. None of us know the first thing about it.”

“You just don’t want to admit to anyone that the witches pulled one over on you again.”

“Can you fix it or not?”

Smothering another laugh, they brought the poppet closer to examine it. Aside from the basic filling, it felt like there were some stones in there, and they thought they smelled some herbs.

“So, basically all you need to do is remove whatever link they used to bind the doll to you,” they muttered, more to themself than anything. “Usually it’s hair, nail, a drop of blood if they’re feeling particularly nasty…”

“That’s what they were doin’?”

The human looked up, tilting their head. “What?”

“One of the witches was bein’ real nice to me,” Mammon sighed. “Patting me on the head when I dropped off some money for them. Shoulda known she was trying something fishy!”

“Okay, that answers that.” they made their way over to their desk, plopping down in the chair. “So she probably pulled out some of your hair and put it inside the doll. So all we have to do it get it out, this thing becomes a regular old doll, and voila, curse broken.”

“How do we do that?” Mammon asked, peering over their shoulder as they reached into their drawer. His blue eyes widened when they pulled out a pair of scissors. “Whaddaya plan on doin’ with those?”

“Mammon, this is going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Wha - ack!”

Mammon doubled over in pain at the same time the human cut open a slice on the doll’s belly. There, right in the center of the stuffing and stones - and there were herbs in there, they had been right! - was a little bundle of white hair, tied with a piece of twine.

“Ah-ha!” they plucked the bunch out of the doll, and Mammon just barely managed to catch himself on the corner of the desk before he went crashing to the floor.

“Holy shit, human, I’m gonna fuckin’ hurl.”

“Do it somewhere that isn’t my room, please.”

Leviathan: “Levi, I don’t know how to tell you this, but ‘witch’ and ‘magical girl’ aren’t the same thing.”

Ever since they let it slip that they practiced witchcraft, Levi had obsessively forced them to watch every magical girl anime he could think of. It was his way of relating to them, they were sure, but it was starting to get a little out of hand. There were only so many variations of the magical girl trope in existence.

Levi frowned at them. “It’s not?”

“Well, for one, I don’t own a super cute lolita dress.”

“Do you want me to make you one?”

The human laughed. “Somehow I don’t think showing up to a coven meeting wearing a pink loli dress will make the others take me very seriously.”

“What about blue?”

“Leviathan.”

“Fine, fine,” he huffed. “So if it’s not like in the anime, what is human magic like?”

“A lot more boring than demon magic, honestly.” the human shrugged, turning back to the monitor. Since they had put their foot down against watching Madoka, the two of them were rewatching Sailor Moon. “A lot of using herbs and crystals and energy. Really symbolic.”

“That is boring,” Levi scowled. “You don’t even get a transformation sequence.”

“I’m just as mad about it as you are, dude.”

Satan: “Holy shit, Satan, that is a ton of books.”

THe demon had no reason to look as proud as he did as he sat the stack of books on the table in front of him. “This isn’t even all of them. Some of them are cursed, so I let them be for now.”

“That’s...both impressive and concerning.” the human picked up a book off the top of the pile. “Whoa, it’s even handwritten!”

“I’ve collected my fair share of grimoires over the millennia.” Satan took a seat across from them, watching as they turned each page with reverence. “I believe that one is from a Scottish witch from the 16th century.”

“Should I be wearing gloves or something?” they cradled the book like it was made of glass. “This is historic, Satan.”

“I’ve cast the appropriate spells on them to prevent them from decaying, don’t worry.” Satan laughed. “Although your concern is appreciated.”

“I could learn so much about the craft from these,” their voice was barely above a whisper, eyes wide as they scanned each page like it contained the secret to eternal life. “This is...wow…”

The look of utter rapture that the human had on their face was endearing, and Satan couldn’t help but smile softly at them. “Feel free to peruse them whenever you like. They deserve to be appreciated.”

“You mean it?” they looked up with hope sparkling in their eyes. “Thank you so much, Satan!”

“Of course,” he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. “That look on your face is worth any price.”

Asmodeus: “I have a gift for you!”

Asmo poked his head up from where he had buried it in his D.D.D. The human stood next to the couch, arms clasped behind their back and a giddy smile stretching across their face. Asmo could practically feel them vibrating from excitement.

“Ooh, for me? Darling, you shouldn’t have!” He pocketed his phone and gave them his full attention. “What is it?”

They held out their hands, revealing the treasure they had been hiding. “Ta-da!”

Asmo carefully picked up the chain from their palms. Dangling from the end of it was a small bottle, wrapped carefully in wire and turned into a pendant. Tiny, translucent pink stones sat inside, nestled in a layer of salt and herbs. The magic surrounding it was faint, as most human witchery was, but it was so uniquely them that Asmo could just about cry.

“Oh, darling, you made me a love charm!” he exclaimed, immediately slipping the necklace on. “It’s so cute! I love it, thank you so much!”

The human smiled. “I’m glad! I wasn’t sure what to do with the rose quartz, but I knew you would love them, so I figured I would make you something! Not that I really think a love charm would work on you, but I figured you would appreciate the aesthetic.”

Asmo laughed, reaching forward to cup the side of their face gently. “You don’t need to use a love charm on me, darling. I’m already captivated by you.” His other hand came up to touch the pendent resting against his collarbone. “This will just serve as a reminder of how spellbound you’ve made me.”

Beelzebub: When they had first described themself as a “kitchen witch,” Beel had thought that they meant they were a really good cook.

And while that was true, they also were literally a kitchen witch.

“Basil for protection...oregano to ward off negative magic...there, that should do it.”

To Beel, it just looked like they were making pasta. Which was never a bad thing. But they chose which herbs to season it with such intention and purpose, Beel knew it was more than that.

“Do herbs really have magic?” he asked, leaning on the counter next to the stove while the human worked on magic dinner. “I’ve never thought of them as particularly magical.”

“It’s more of a human thing,” they said, sprinkling the last of the oregano over the pot of sauce. “We don’t get the flashy sparks and all that, so we had to develop our own magic.”

“Hm…” Beel regarded the pot with curiosity. “Is that why your cooking is so good?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” they laughed, swatting at his hand as he slowly approached the pot. “You aren’t sneaky, Beel.”

“Can I just have a taste?”

“Your ‘taste’ is drinking the whole pot like it’s soup.” they rolled their eyes. “I haven’t even started cooking it yet! It’s cold!”

Beel pouted, looking every bit the kicked puppy. “But I want to taste your magic.”

“You can taste my magic when dinner’s ready.”

Belphegor: On nights when he couldn’t sleep, Belphie usually ended up with the human.

Sometimes it was just him wiggling his way into their bed and cuddling with them until he felt sleepy. But tonight, it looks like they were sharing a case of insomnia.

So that was how he ended up sitting on the human’s floor with his hand in their lap as they studied it like it was a textbook.

“So? What do the squiggly lines of destiny tell you about me?”

“That you’re a little bitch.” they shot back, running their thumb over the center of his palm. “You have a lot of crosses on your heart line.”

“Which means?”

“You’re emotionally fucked up.”

Belphie snorted. “I could have told you that one.”

“You’re the one who came in here and wanted to see some human magic, I don’t want to hear any complaining.” they let go of his hand. “The only reason I’m breaking out the salt and candles is to banish your demonic ass from my room.”

“You know that only works on lesser demons.”

“Anything will work as banishment if I throw it hard enough.”

Diavolo: This...felt kind of pointless, honestly.

They knew it was mainly because of Diavolo’s obsession with human culture. But doing a Tarot reading for the Crown Prince of Hell seemed like a waste of everyone’s time.

Well, regardless, a summons from Diavolo was not to be ignored, so they had dutifully gathered up their cards and made their way to the Demon Lord’s Castle.

“You know,” they began hesitantly. “If you want to know the future, you have a time-manipulating butler right there.”

Barbatos, ever watchfully, chuckled and inclined his head. “My Lord is fascinated by human methods of divination.”

“It’s true,” Diavolo nodded. “Tarot especially has always piqued my interest, but very rarely do I have time to indulge with the other witches who visit the Devildom.”

....Oh, they really couldn’t say no to the hopeful gleam in his eye. A man that large had no right to look that cute.

“Alright,” they handed him the deck of cards. It looked hilariously small in his hands. “Go ahead and shuffle them.”

“Oh, I get to do it?”

“If you want,” they shrugged. “I usually have whoever is being read for do the shuffling, so the deck can get a feel for their energy. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“No, this is exciting!” He really did look like he was having fun. “How many should I draw?”

“Just one, and we can go from there.”

With a focus that might have been a bit too intense, Diavolo began shuffling. He handled the deck carefully, which made them happy. So many people were rough with the cards, and they were always worried they were going to get ruined.

“Alright.” Diavolo laid a card face down on the table between them. “Would you like to do the honors?”

He was being dramatic, but they couldn’t help but play along. What was the harm in a little bit of fun? They flipped the card face up and let out a startled chuckle.

The Devil.

“Did you do that on purpose?” they asked, laughter dripping from their voice.

“No, honest!” Diavolo was laughing too. “What does the Devil card mean?”

“It means my deck has a sense of humor.”

[jincherie]

TEASER: sunshine riptide

genre: hybrid au, ot7, fluff, animal crossing insp wc: 2.6k

“So in exchange for three months paid stay on the island while you get back on your feet, you will work part-time at the Rabbits Den three days a week, and man the desk in the Resident Services Building on Sundays. Is that okay to you?”

You nod eagerly, the ordeal seeming too good to be true and something you’re afraid will be retracted if you don’t act with haste. Mr Bang returns your motion with a little less fervour, the same kind look never leaving his face.

“Perfect, it’s settled then! We’re glad to have you with us, y/n.”

Something lifts from your chest in that moment, as though you’d been walking beneath the cover of a lead blanket and it has finally slipped from your shoulders. You feel a little breathless, and you know the grin that slips onto your face is stupidly wide. Embarrassingly, you feel salty pricks at the corner of your eyes.

“Thank you so much,” you say, and you mean it. It hadn’t exactly been a well thought out plan, moving here with nothing to your name but your most basic possessions, but you’d just needed to escape and start anew and this… this had been the first opportunity you’d seen. The best opportunity you’d seen. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, young lady.” Mr Bang’s expression grows even softer, if possible. “This is a place people come to find refuge, and happiness. You’re welcome here.”

You clear your throat, turning your head to the side and pretending that you need to cough so he doesn’t see the tear that slips out. You have a feeling he knows, though, as you turn back and find him smiling at you, floppy rabbit ears framing his round face. He reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.

“Now, lets find you a room for the night. I’ll send word to the house I have in mind and make sure they have it nice and tidy before your arrival tomorrow. Sound good?”

It hits you only now how tired you are, more emotionally exhausted than anything, and nod while allowing him to lead you down the hall. That does sound good, actually. That sounds amazing.

O – O – O

You’d arrived on this island in the early hours of the morning yesterday, the late-night ferry the only one that runs to this island on the outskirts of the archipelago. It’s likely due to the fact that the captain is a nocturnal hybrid, and hence prefers to run his business under the cover of night. You hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip over, so when Mr Bang had shown you to the room he was happy to lend you for the night, despite it being barely ten o’clock in the morning you’d passed out the second your head hit the pillow. It was more of a nap than anything, but you suspect that the events of the past few months all caught up to you at once because you woke only for dinner and then fell asleep once more. Mr Bang offered no judgement, and simply left a note instructing you where the bathroom is and where you could find towels so that you could freshen up once you awoke. He also left you a coffee bun in a container, since you’d missed the afternoon tea he held the day before.

You hadn’t even been on this island a day and already the kindness of one of the residents was almost bringing you to tears.

Due to the fact that you’d slept far too early, you end up waking up at an ungodly hour the next day, the day you are meant to be moving in to the sharehouse that Mr Bang told you about. Laying in the bed, nestled in the warmth of the covers and watching as the suns rays slowly begin to stain the ceiling and the curtains in rich marigold, you do your best to get yourself together. You can breathe easy now, any anxiety you’d felt previous now nothing more than an echo in your chest. You feel refreshed, and not just from the ridiculous amount of sleep you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. There are of course some nerves pertaining to meeting your new housemates, but it’s manageable. You have faith that everything will turn out well. It’s a good feeling.

Mr Bang is kind enough to offer you breakfast, and likely would have pushed you to stay for lunch had you not shown up down the stairs with your baggage already in tow. So begrudgingly, he allows you to head on your way, informing you that your new housemates knew of your arrival and had endeavoured to tidy up as much as possible. You thought it was a little funny he was telling you that—just how messy is the house usually?—but he simply shook his head with a smile that told you the answer would come soon enough.

The island isn’t big, but it most definitely isn’t small. The sun is warm and the air cool with a tinge of salt and sea trailing along the breeze, and the path you walk along that skirts the beach is peppered with sand and the odd shell. It makes you happier than anticipated, because just being out here makes you feel so free. Mr Bang told you that the house where you will be staying is on the other side of the island, past the little cluster of shops and small businesses and perched at the edge of the sand, backing onto a river that flows into the ocean and skirted on one side by a small cliff.

“It’s their own little alcove,” Mr Bang had snorted, a mixture of fondness and amusement evident on his features. “They get up to more trouble than I can keep track of over there, but they’re good boys.”

Ah, that’s right. You’d almost forgotten; your new housemates are a bunch of boys. You hope that Mr Bang is right about their character and you won’t be living in discomfort for the next three months.

The path wound and curved a bit, following the edge of the island, and before long you were walking through a section of light forestry. You suspected the house would be on the other side, and were in the midst of thinking just what it would look like when a small squeak! catches your attention and you halt, almost dropping your bag.

It’s silent, save for the way the breeze caresses the leaves around you. You peer around, eyes unable to spot anything in the foliage. Did you imagine it? It’s a little early in your stay to be going crazy. Hesitantly, you adjust your grip on your bag and resume your trek.

Squeak! S-squeeeak!

No, you definitely heard that. You freeze, having gotten a better sense of where the sound is coming from now and turning towards a large tree smothered in vines of varying thickness and clinginess. For a moment, you don’t see anything, eyes squinting hard—it’s like one of those I spy books you used to rave about as a kid— and just when you think you might be looking in the wrong place, you catch movement.

There, in a cluster of the vines dangling from one of the tree’s thicker limbs, is a tiny creature, all tangled up and squeaking in distress.

“Oh my goodness,” you drop your bag, immediately moving closer.  “Poor thing—hold on just a second, bub. I’ll get you out. Promise not to bite me?”

The creature offers a squeak and logically you know it isn’t answering your request, but you pretend it is anyway. Carefully stepping over plants and twigs, thanking past you for wearing more practical boots, you reach where the creature is stuck, dangling just below eye level.

The vines it has managed to get all tangled up in aren’t particularly thick, but there are a lot of them, and it has managed to get a few of its limbs stuck in place. Carefully, you snap a few of the more central ones and ease the tiny thing out, getting a better view of it the more you pull from its body. It’s squeaking all the while, though with much less distress and more of an energy that simply feels chatty. It makes you smile.

“There you go,” you murmur, cradling the tiny baby in your palms and cooing, trying to calm the heartbeat and hurried breaths you can feel racing against your skin. You stroke along its back as lightly as you can manage. “Oh, you’re a little sugar glider! You’re so pretty, such a cutie. Look at your markings, wow… so pretty.”

Almost as though it can understand your praise and is basking in it, it flicks its bushy tail and rolls in your palm, like a cat rubbing against something with its cheek except this little glider is doing it with its whole body. It’s awfully friendly, you note. Perhaps much of the wildlife here is more peacefully accustomed to human and hybrid activity.

“Okay, you’re free now. I’ll stop ogling at you and let you go,” you say, holding your hands up to a part of the tree that isn’t covered in vines lest there be a repeat of the earlier situation. The sugar glider merely blinks, eyes still on you, and doesn’t move. Brows drawn in confusion, you move your hands closer to the tree, “Well, aren’t you going to—oh!”

Faster than you can react, the little thing darts from your hands, leaping to your bicep and scurrying up with tiny claws in your shirt to your shoulder. Once at its apparent destination, it rushes to the crook of your neck and makes itself at home, nestling against you and securing itself with its tail partway around the back of your neck and its little paws clutching your shirt edge. You giggle, still in shock and trying not to jostle it off as you fight the ticklish sensation.

“Okay. I guess you can come with me. I’m not sure if you can stay the whole while, but I’m sure it will be okay while I walk.”

So off you go, bending and retrieving your bag carefully so you don’t dislodge your tiny new companion. You’ve seen a bit of sugar gliders, but the way this one is acting is quite peculiar. If it sticks around until you arrive at the house, you’d love to snap a quick picture because it really is so pretty, so cute.

The trip is faster than anticipated, now there is something else to occupy your thoughts. Before you know it you’re out of the forestry and approaching a large, modern three storey building that is probably just a few yards short of a mansion, nestled between the ocean, the river, and a short cliff-face just barely higher than the roof. This is the place for sure.

The little glider seems to perk up, the closer you get, something that surprises you since it was so quiet you thought it was asleep. With a soft noise, it grabs onto your hair with tiny paws and scurries to the top of your head, likely making a mess of it in the process but it’s so cute you can’t bring yourself to mind. At least it will be an interesting first impression.

As you approach the front door, you think you see movement in one of the windows on the ground floor. You almost dismiss it as you reach the eve, until you catch the hurried patter of feet against hardwood from beyond the door.

You barely manage to blink before the door is flying open, a man with raven curls and two fluffy russet ears peeking between the locks presenting you with the biggest grin you have ever seen on anyone’s face. It’s boyish and cute, a direct contrast to the mature, sculpted features of his face.

“Hello!” he says, and you catch sight of a long, fluffy russet tail whipping behind him and betraying his excitement—not that he was doing much to hide it. “You must be the new roomie! It’s nice to meet you! We’ve been waiting all morning, and one of us actually went to pick you up but… I’m not sure where he is.”

You’re a little overwhelmed but easily recover when he simply keeps looking at you so happily, returning the man’s bright smile. There’s rustling in your hair at the back of your head but you ignore it, adjusting your grasp on your bag. “Ah, thank you. I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

The man pulls back, a sheepish look on his face that accompanies a light flush in his cheeks. “Oh, right. I’m Taehyung. Sorry. My hyungs tell me I tend to get a bit ahead of myself sometimes.”

You keep the smile on your face. “That’s okay, we got there in the end. It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung brightens, tail curling happily behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted from a voice to the side.

“Are you going to make our poor new housemate wait outside all day, Tae?”

The light blush colouring Taehyung’s cheeks deepens, a sheepish laugh escaping. “No. I was just about to invite her in!”

He steps back and reveals the person behind him who had spoken, a tall man with dimples and silvery hair that did little to conceal the large, rounded grey ears atop his head. He seems a little awkward in his stance, like he has more body than he knows what to do with, but still extends an arm in greeting with a kind smile. “y/n, is it? Welcome, please come in. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us, however brief. We’re happy to have you.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry! If you cry now you can never show your face here again. You clear your throat, returning his smile as you step inside and out of the sun, the difference in temperature against your skin immediate. “Thank you, I really appreciate your generosity in letting me stay here.”

“Nonsense,” Taehyung snorts, “Namjoon-hyung has been saying for months we should find someone to fill the spare room, and now you show up on our doorstep! It’s perfect.”

The taller, who Taehyung had referenced as Namjoon, seems a little bashful, his cheeks heating. Does everyone in this house blush so easily? You hope it’s not contagious.

There is movement in your hair again, the glider apparently needing to breathe, and you have your mouth open ready to explain when Namjoon beats you to it.

“Oh, I see you’ve met Jimin already!”

What?

The glider leaps from your head and onto Taehyung’s outstretched arm, climbing to his head before leaping from that too and gliding through the air, all the way around the corner. There is a small clutter, the sound of a light swearword entering the air, and then the ever-familiar patter of feet against hardwood. Another boy rounds the corner, ashy-blond hair tousled and parted by two small grey ears, bushy tail curling behind him.

He skids to a stop in front of you, dipping in a brief bow before rising and shooting you a bright smile. “Hello! Thank you for helping me! I’m Jimin, welcome home!”

It takes all of your willpower to keep the happy tears at bay as you tilt your head back and laugh, already feeling lighter than you ever remember feeling before.

[adorethedistance]

Something to Lose - Luke Patterson X Covington!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: luke imagine idea so Luke’s old gf is dead and she’s calebs daughter and is trying to get him to stay with her instead of cross over and then he doenst show up in stand tall . I just had this idea and near had a fit trying to get it down love ur writing also 💖

Warnings: angst, a lot of crying, I don’t even think there’s swearing in this one.

Words: 2293

A/n: I hope I did the request justice. This was kinda stressful the entire time writing it just bc of all the ideas that came. Like I’d be writing and then my brain would be like ‘hey what if this happened’ and then I’m like ‘oh that’s evil. put it in the fic.’ you know?

I begin nervously playing with the tulle skirt of my above-the-knee length party dress. I wanted a mini but dad refused to let me be visible to ghosts and lifers in anything ‘revealing’, so we compromised on above the knee. It’s a pretty dress, the black long sleeves are sheer and the back is completely open, and that’s as scandalous as dad would allow. Ironic considering his dancers’ costumes are cut out fringe leotards and nude tights.

And speaking of dancers,

“Who was that?” I ask Francesca as she comes to stand next to me by the black music stands, branded with the infamous Hollywood Ghost Club logo.

“Who was who?”She takes a tiny sip of water and readjusts her massive blue and purple feather headdress. Dad always chooses the most extravagant costumes. Sometimes I wonder how they’re able to dance without falling over from being so… top heavy I guess?

“That guy you were dancing in front of in the denim coat?”

“What are you talking about? I was dancing in front of Willie.”

“Nice try, I know that was Angie. Maybe next time.” On the first day the girls set foot in the place they were such amazing dancers, dad invited them to perform front and center if they wanted to join the club. The downside was he could never tell them apart. I don’t know how though, they’re not indiscernibly identical. I made it my goal to always be able to tell them apart, and they made it their goal to get me to mix them up just once.

“We’re gonna get you one of these days.”

“Yeah, sure. But, uh, do you know who he is?”

“I don’t but maybe you will?”

“What?” Glancing up to Fran’s face she gives me a look and directs me with her eyes before smiling smugly and walking away. I follow her gaze to see my dad standing on the far side of their table, talking with the attractive stranger. His excitement makes his every movement animated and he can’t even seem to string a coherent sentence. Inviting them to sit down, dad starts saying something about Willie and magic? The conversation doesn’t last long and once he leaves, I debate whether or not to approach the handsome stranger.

“Who are we looking at?” I’m startled when I hear Angie’s voice in my right ear.

“Oh. The one at the front table in the denim overcoat.”

“You mean the one Franny was dancing in front of?”

“She already tried that.”

“Dammit!” I laugh at yet another failed attempt.

“I don’t even know why you guys bother anymore.”

“Whatever. Why are we staring at him?”

“I’m debating whether or not I should talk to him.” Angie sends me a look that says ‘have more faith in yourself’ which I gleefully ignore.

“Shoot your shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My dad could interrupt and say something totally embarrassing. He wasn’t done talking to them, he just had to do rounds.”

“Girl, have you seen how many people are here tonight? He’s not gonna be done any time soon, so go while you still have some time!” Angie punctuates her sentence by gently pushing me forward, and I stumble in the direction of the cute stranger. The sudden jerky movement seems to catch his attention and his eyes soften once they meet mine. He smiles softly as a greeting and when I return the look, he takes that as an invitation to walk my way. I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen partially out of fear and partly out of curiosity.

“Hey, I’m Luke,” denim extends his hand politely and… extremely flusteredly? He sounds breathless and a touch fearful. I’m used to the energy as the club intimidates first-timers. I take his hand,

“Y/n.” Omitting my last name tends to do me a lot of good.

“Wow. That’s really pretty,”

“It’s nothing special.”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“So, uh-“ he trails off in search of a conversation starter, “What brings you to the Hollywood Ghost Club?”

“Oh, you know... just uhm- just a night out.”

“Do you come to the Club a lot?”

“You could say that. It’s pretty much a second home.”

“Y/n, darling. There you are!” Luke watches my face drop from its pleasant ‘chatting with guests’ expression, to a relaxed almost-frown.

“Here I am.”

“And I see you’ve met Luke.”

“Yes sir.”

“I trust my daughter is keeping you in good company?”

“Your daughter?” Luke nearly chokes on the mystical air of the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“I did not choke!”

“You choked.” Luke and I argue over the details of how we met, in the backstage/dressing room area of the Club. It feels like lifetimes ago, but it wasn’t. And yet in such a short time, we had become completely infatuated and comfortable with one another. So much so that me wearing a floor-length evening gown and jewels doesn’t make me feel out of place with his jeans and flannel shirt.

Despite my light laughter, Luke’s face is fairly flat. He’s beginning to stare off into space, inattentive from our lull in the conversation.

“Hey, you okay?” He snaps back into reality.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” After a long moment of hesitation, he begins to speak, not looking up from the scuff on the linoleum flooring.

“Y/n, I have something to tell you.”

“What’s up?”

“The boys and I… We… we have unfinished business…”

“Of course you do. That’s why you’re here- why all of us are here.”

“We’re gonna play the Orpheum tonight. At seven.”

“That’s so cool! Tha-” I feel my words trapped in my throat. “That’s your unfinished business... Play the show you never got to before you died.” I feel a well of tears flooding my bottom lash line. They’re not tears of sadness. “That’s your unfinished business. And you’re playing there tonight. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?!” I cry out in anguish. Luke’s face falls from a somber reluctance to break the news, to utter heartbreak.

“Y/n, I-”

“I thought we had something.”

“We do!”

“Then why would you wait to tell me until,” I check the analog clock on the wall behind him, “An hour before you go?!”

“I wanted to enjoy our last day together without having to think about it. I didn’t think it’d make you this angry.”

“Well, I am angry, Luke!” My sentence is punctuated by Luke getting zapped by a jolt of electricity. He groans as he tries to remain standing upright. The tears streaming down my face slow from a mix of anger to extreme worry.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Your dad gave us a ‘club stamp’ that first night we left.” My face falls slack as I register what he’s just said. Without another word, I furiously push out of my chair and out of the dressing room. Each stride is larger than the last as I let my legs carry me into the wings of the Club’s circular stage. When I have the familiar silver tinsel entrance in sight, I stop cold in my tracks. In front of me stands Alex, in a dazzling pink coat and diamond-covered oxfords, and Reggie, in a luxurious red vest and coat covered in black floral detailing. In front of them stands my father in his extravagant purple number that’s reminiscent of his outfits he wore when performing.

My frustrated steps carried me into his sight and the volume of my strides drew the two boys’ attention behind them. Luke. Luke stupidly followed me out here, and father merely looks at me and blinks authoritatively before redirecting his gaze onto my boyfriend.

“There you are. I knew I was missing a third musketeer.” With a snap of his fingers, dad has poofed Luke out from behind me and poofs him back in between his bandmates. When he reappears he’s wearing a deep blue suit with a black, tiered chiffon collar and bowtie.

“Isn’t it nice that you’re all here together?” Dad launches into his huge speech, seemingly convincing them to stay at the club. He mentions everything they want can be theirs here like Willie, the glory of performing, connection with an audience. As he speaks, he steps forward and reaches up. I go to yell and reach for Luke, but nothing comes out. There’s no sound coming from my mouth, and the undersurface of my black heels feel frozen solid to the ground. Dad notices my movement and shoots me a look to knock it off. Luke sees and as he moves to turn his head, dad reaches up to keep his focus forward before adjusting Luke’s collar for him. He continues with his big speech as another jolt graces all three boys at once.

“I suggest you accept my offer because the clock is ticking,” he downs one more sip of water, preparing to perform, “Ouch. You know where to find me.”

When he disappears onto the stage, I’m released from my spot and the momentum of my struggling launches me forward. Luke turns around just in time to catch me and once he does he doesn’t release me from his arms.

“Luke, I didn’t-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He holds me in his arms, one hand on my head to cradle me close to his chest and the other wrapped soothingly around my waist.

“He’s right,” I choke out my words through heavy sobs, “You don’t know that the Orpheum is really your unfinished business. What if it’s not? These jolts could kill you, Luke. For good. My dad may be powerful, but he doesn’t have the power to bring you back from this.”

When I look up, Luke has a heartbroken expression painted all over his face. Before I can speak again, Alex poofs out from beside us. Sharing a worried expression, Luke and I look out onto the stage where dad has him soloing front and center.

“I-I-I, I made a-a promise-”

“To Julie, I know. But if she’s really as wonderful, and as kind, and understanding, and loving as you describe her to be, won’t she understand?” Luke’s expression softens in realization.

“You’re actually considering staying with Caleb?” Reggie asks Luke incredulously. Before he can receive an answer, he, too, is poofed out onto the stage in Alex’s previous spot, to play a jazzy bass solo. Luke looks all around the backstage area, at the audience, between his band members, and at my dad. Finally, his eyes settle on mine. I can’t read his expression; I wish I knew what was going on inside his head.

“Stay.”

Luke and I run out of time when dad calls his name. He’s poofed us apart so I’m frozen against the downstage wall, out of sight from the audience, and Luke is struggling his way onto the stage.

Dad has him soloing for the audience, to create a musical dialogue between the two of them. Luke, conflicted, looks between me and my dad unsure of how to feel. The performer side of him must be loving the high that comes with performing in the club, but the loyal side of him, I can tell, is yearning for Julie.

When the song ends, the three boys share a single look of concern and remorse, no doubt for Julie. I can’t help but feel selfish asking him to stay. It’s not fair for me to ask him to choose between me and her... But that’s not what I’m asking. If all three of them stay here, they don’t risk dying for good. Surely Julie can understand choosing life, or the afterlife rather, over freedom is a rational trade.

Coming to his senses Luke runs off stage.

“Y/n-”

“It’s selfish of me to ask you to stay-”

“I’m staying.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to die, Y/n. If that means I have to play in your dad’s band, fine. But at least we can be together.” Luke runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tear shed out of joy. Our moment is ended when Alex and Reggie have also returned backstage.

“Boys, if we stay here, we’ll get to live and make music for as long as we want.”

“You said it yourself, we made a promise. To Julie.” Reggie almost looks like he wants to cry.

“If this is what you want- to spend eternity playing jazz solos behind Caleb -I can’t stop you. But I’m not gonna let Julie down. Not again.” Alex searches Luke’s face for any hesitation. When he doesn’t find the change of heart he’s looking for, Alex nods and fidgets with his drumsticks in one hand. The sudden swell of emotion leads the two of them to hug each other tightly; I can’t imagine their pain of knowing they might never see each other again. When they let go, Luke and Reggie share in a hug and the heartache pulls Alex into their hug.

“Can you do me a favor?” Luke asks, sniffling away a few tears. Reggie and Alex nod,

“Anything.”

“Will you tell Julie she’s a star for me, one last time?” A sharp jolt hits the three of them in unison once more; a signal that it’s really time to say goodbye. With sorrowful smiles, Alex and Reggie poof out of the Hollywood Ghost Club for the last time.

When he turns around, Luke’s face is red and puffy from crying and the sight breaks my heart clean in half. I pull him into a hug and press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I love you, Luke.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

***

A/n: YOWZA this really made my heart hurt for Julie sm. I love her and if this were canon I’d have actually kermit.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej

[ethanharli]

Pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): Fantasy AU, Fluff, Slight angst (but mostly fluff), Top reader, bottom character.

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

A/n- Just wanted to say thank you for one hundred followers! So I thought I'd make this, I hope y'all like it! Also requests are open for anyone who'd like to know :)

_________

"[Y/n]! I'm back!" My pointy ears twitched from the shout of greeting, turning my gaze towards a familiar red haired dragon shifter. The shorter male happily strode up to me with a bag in hand, filled with something that smelled of warm wheat. I couldn't help but tilt my head in confusion as I slowly moved towards him, gently taking the bag from his hand to sniff it out, nearly frowning from the sudden fits of laughter coming from the male. "Don't worry [Y/n], It's just bread" Eijirou chuckled softly, taking the bag from my hand to open it up and show me the small loafs hidden inside of it.

"B- brea, bread?" I spoke, confused by the sudden new word. Hoping I had pronounced it correctly since Eijiro has been trying his hardest to teach me how to speak their language, "Yes! I guess our lessons are finally paying off!" The small male's chest puffed up with pride, which caused my heart to swell with sudden happiness. Feeling a feeling I had yet to experience in my many decades of life, so going with my natural instincts I reached out towards the male, standing before him as I gently trailed my claws over his jawline, making sure not to hurt him. "E-Eije- Eijirou" I stuttered, trying my hardest to remember the pronunciation of his name, and from the happy feeling radiating from him I could tell I got it right. 

He let out a sudden cough when his cheeks began to flush a bright pink, taking a step back away from me while I nearly took a step closer to him, but refrained from doing so. "Why don't we go try some of this?" he smiled, waving the bag of bread around slightly as he pointed in the direction of my home, but that enthusiasm seemed to be a mask to cover up the fluttering of his heart that seemed to match mine. "We can even practice your speaking!" I merely nodded towards the male, deciding not to bring up the subject for now. And for the simple fact I couldn't speak that well just yet, so on the way to my house I listened to him rant on and on about these quests he'd go on with his friends, I always found them quiet enjoyable but it was when he talked about a blonde male that my smile would become strained.

I don't know what the feeling is, but its kind of.. Sour, and not knowing what to do about it I simply pushed the feeling down. "And then Bakugou nearly flew me into a tree!" I blinked back out of my thoughts, turning my head back towards the male with a confused look since I haven't been paying much attention. "We-Were yu hu-hurt?" I asked, worry now clouding my senses while my eye's scanned over his body, looking for anything that might be even close to a wound besides the scar above his eye. "Nah I'm alright! Just a small scratch" He chuckled, holding up his arm to show me the small cut that somewhat nagged at me, so I gently reached out and took his arm, slowly gliding two of my fingers over the cut while a bright blue light began to shine, healing the wound completely.

"Wow.. That's so manly! I wish I could do that! Anyways lets go eat yeah?"

------

I couldn't help but shift around in the chair I'm sitting in, knowing it had been about two months since that day passed, and I have been able to speak his language a lot more fluently now. It has also been a while since I've even seen Eijirou, he told me he had another quest to go on with his friends so I should've expected as such, but.. It's lonely without him around and it's funny how that didn't bother me before, I was so used to being alone in this forest without anyone but the animals to keep me company. But one fateful day Eijirou fell out of a tree and landed by my feet, my first instinct was to apprehend him since I thought he was there to kill me, like most bounty hunters. But he was so weak and wounded that I decided to at least heal him first, it also helped that he didn't radiate any hostile energy.

But soon after that we became good friends- well more like he kept coming back and I kept trying to ignore him. However I'm glad I decided to open up to him, he's a good man and.. He makes me feel something I haven't felt before, something new and exciting but scary at the same time. I can only hope all goes we-

My thoughts were cut off when my front door opened up, revealing a disheveled wounded red head that I'm quiet familiar with, and I couldn't help but scan him thoroughly, seeing that his arm was in a cast and that little cuts are littered all over his body, while he also adored a busted lip. "Hey" He chuckled nervously, yet I could sense the small prickle of pain behind his words, so letting out a strained sigh I pointed down at the chair in front of me, "Sit, I'll heal your wounds" A small grumble ripped past my throat as he hobbled over and sat in the chair, looking at me with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for just barging in like that, but I just couldn't wait to see you" The corner of his lips curled up slightly when I scooted up closer to him, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest when our knees brushed against each others.

"It's okay Eijirou, I missed you too" I chuckled softly, pressing the pads of my fingers on his legs to heal whatever bruises were there and slowly making my way up. No other words were exchanged while I continued to heal him, making sure to get whatever I could so he wouldn't be in to much pain, however every now and then I'd get distracted by the fast beat of his heart, and the way I'd catch him looking at me. So I quickly went to heal his broken arm, looking up at the last thing that needed to be healed, his busted lip. "Ah- It's fine you've already done enough-!" He was a bit to slow with his words, cause I was quick to hook my finger under his chin, tilting his head up a bit to meet my gaze as I slowly trailed my thumb over his busted lip, yet making sure I don't accidentally hurt him with my claws.

Even after I healed his lip I just couldn't look away from him, the softness of his lips under my thumb making me wonder just how nice they'd feel against my own. And the deep red blush that adored his face as he leaned into my touch, looking to meet my gaze with slightly foggy eyes when I rested my other hand on his thigh, pulling him closer towards me so I could feel him more. Which he didn't seem to mind since he slowly brought a hand up to my cheek, tracing the back of his fingers along my cheekbone as I let out a batted breath, "You truly are magnifecent." Eijirou seemed surprised by my words, his eye's widened slightly as his hand moved to the back of my neck, pulling me closer until our lips were merely an inch apart. "May I?" I asked not wanting to make any sudden move without his permission until he finally nodded his head and closed his eyes.

At first our lips simply brushed against the others, until I finally captured his lips with mine, loving how soft they felt against my own. Nothing else seemed to matter as Eijirou slowly moved from his seat and into my lap, letting my hands roam down his sides and stay at his hips, taking in the slow movements of the kiss until I drew my tongue over his bottom lip, instinctively taking it between my teeth to give it a nice slow tug before I pulled back. Letting ourselves catch our breath as Eijirou rested his face in the crook of my neck.

"Does this mean- we're together now?" The red head asked, surprising me slightly while a small smile tugged at my lips.

"Of course my love."

"Hell yeah!"

[bbrandy2002]

Fools Rush In

Part 1

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompts: “I don’t plan to stop”

A/N: In this, MC does not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley lives in Las Vegas.

A/N/N: This series is crazy lol

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine -- his pick during the social season -- the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with more than he bargained for.

Book: The Royal Romance

Word Count: 1152

Inspired by Carrie Underwoods song, ‘Last name’

Perma tags: @emceesynonymroll​ @romanticatheart-posts​ @burnsoslow​ @dcbbw​ @ao719​ @jessiembruno​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @texaskitten30​ @janezillow​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​ @mskaneko​ @loveellamae​ @queenjilian​ @sirbeepsalot​ @pedudley​ @caroldxnvxrs​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @desireepow-1986​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​ @lovablegranny​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @amandablink​ @blueaster-blog1​ @liamsx-world

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

High above the Las Vegas strip, on the rooftop lounge of the Rio Hotel and Casino, the Voodoo Nightclub was rife with energy and spirited chatter. Covered overhead by only a cluster of twinkling stars, the patio's dancefloor was packed with rhythmic freestyling movements to the DJ's techno beats. A large crowd gathered around the flair bartenders who wowed with their acrobatic-like tossing of bottles and shakers. Nightlifers admired the vast cityscape of flashing neon and rolling gold letters from fifty-one stories below. 

It was noisy and upbeat. 

It was full of gigantic cocktails and mixers. 

And on this warm spring night, surrounded by loud music and drunken tourists, Liam sat at a table alone, wondering how the hell he got abandoned at his own bachelor party.

Well, he wasn't completely alone, the ringleader of this little shindig was at the bar drinking shots out of the bellybuttons of some randos while dressed as Elvis.

He could almost kick his brother's ass for getting him into this position. He was the spare. This was supposed to be Leo's problem; he was born and bred for this position. Now Liam was stuck unhappily engaged to be married to his brother's former fiance in two weeks, who coincidentally was also his step-cousin. I'm the white trash King of Cordonia, he mused, that's what they'll call me.

The second in command: his best friend, Drake, took off 30 minutes ago to spend some of his big winnings on the boulevard while bitching about ending his dry spell.

And the last time he saw Maxwell, the youngest Beaumont was trying to show off a dance move on the balcony's railing. One of the cage dancers assured the mesmerized crowd he landed safely on cloth awning a few stories below.

At least the lovely couple having sex behind him briefly engaged in conversation, even if it was only to ask him to be their lookout. 

He had nothing better to do and liked the concoction Leo ordered him, so why not. Viva Las Vegas!

While he sipped the rum and fruit-flavored cocktail and tried not to choke on his straw from the couple behind him repeatedly banging into his chair, he looked up to see a young woman approaching him.

"Jax?" She flashed a hopeful smile at Liam.

Liam shook his head, trying not to get lost in her beautiful smile and scintillating brown eyes that reflected the clubs flashing neon like glass. "Uh, no. It's Liam." I wish I were Jax.

Her smile faded. "Oh! Well, shit. I'm sorry. He was supposed to meet me here 20 minutes ago, and you resemble his tinder profile pic."

Do I pretend to know what the hell that is? He nodded with an awkward chuckle. "Good old Tinder."

She unlocked her phone and held it out to him. Liam studied the picture of the man who did look a lot like him. He read the bio aloud: "Jax, 28. I always keep a loaded gun beside my bed in the event of intruders so I can shoot myself to avoid meeting new people." He grimaced with wry amusement before glancing back to her. "I think we know what happened to Jax."

"Damn." She slumped her shoulders in disappointment until she noticed the activity taking place at the table behind Liam. She stooped down with a slight smirk and leaned into his ear. "I hate to tell you this, but there are people having sex behind you."

Liam scratched the tip of his nose. "Yeah, I know. I'm their lookout. And I don't plan to stop until those two lovebirds are finished."

The woman winced and scrunched her brows. "Really?"

"Noooo," Liam whined. "Get me the hell out of here," he pleaded.

She laughed and grasped onto his wrist. "Come on, Liam. We can sit at the bar together if you'd like."

He looked down at her tiny hand wrapped around his wrist; it was so soft and warm. He smiled up at her. "I'd like that a lot, Miss ..."

"Brooks. Riley Brooks."

Liam rose from his chair, knowing he probably shouldn't go with her. Riley was pretty and sweet, and he was already two sheets to the wind. He couldn't help himself, though; there was something about her.

They took their seats at the bar and ordered a Witch Doctor to share. When the bartender set the massive cocktail in front of them, Riley took a sip from her straw and turned to Liam. "So, what's a good looking guy like yourself doing here alone?"

Liam twisted his straw between his forefinger and thumb, not wanting to discuss his complicated situation, but he was never one to lie. "It's... um ... my bachelor party." 

"Ohhh! I see." Riley scooted away and, with a half-hearted smile, said, "I guess congratulations are in order."

Liam scoffed. "If you knew the whole story, you might not congratulate me so quickly."

"Is she that bad? Surely there's something good about her."

He took a long sip of his drink, then looked at her with a deadpan stare. "Not one."

Riley chuckled. "Do I even wanna know why you're marrying her then?

"Probably not," he quipped.

Liam told her how his friends threw him the bachelor party as one last big hoorah to his freedom and then ditched him for their own pursuits. And how he really wanted to see the Statue of Liberty at the New York New York Hotel, but it wasn't in the guy's plans.

Feeling bad for her new friend, Riley offered to make his dream a reality. After finishing their drink and downing a few Jager bombs, the two of them staggered out.

Liam and Riley swayed down the bustling sidewalk, holding onto one another for balance and cackling the whole way.

"Liam!" Riley animately pointed. "Look! There it is."

Liam lifted his heavy head, and his droopy eyelids widened when he gazed up at the 150-foot replica of Lady Liberty. "Whoa … She... Is … Magnificent." He stood at attention and saluted. "Here's to freedom and … other cool shit," he slurred.

Riley lowered her head and placed a hand over her heart. "God bless America."

Liam shook his head in agreement. "Yes. Yes. Just ... bless the hell out of it. And you know what? The rollercoaster makes it even more ... bitchin."

Riley grabbed his upper arm and shook it hard with excitement. "We gotta ride it, Liam!"

He smirked. "Try to stop me!"

After riding the coaster, both laughed through nausea as they stepped off. 

"Ahhh, that was so much fun! We should go again!" Riley shrieked while hovered over a trash bin.

Liam thought about it until he caught sight of a couple coming out of a wedding chapel across the street.

Liam swung his arm over her shoulder with a grin. “You know what else would be fun?”

Riley giggled. “What?”

“Getting married.”

[jadekitty777]

Fall For You

*Runs in screaming and slams this down with forty minutes left to go* 

I will not lie that this one is not my best. Time crunch got to me and I kind of rushed this one. Um, but... I finished? 8D

Thank you everyone who has taken the time to read, reblog,or comment on my stories this week! Your support has been greatly appreciated and encouraging. Another thank you goes out to the many of you who inspired me to write some of these stories; they wouldn’t exist if not for you. Finally, a thank you to all the other participants who made such great fics and art this week;  you all are awesome!! 

Day 7: AU

Dedicated to: @tama-negis (I formally apologize though; you deserve something so much better than this)

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 2.7k

Ao3 Link: Fall For You

Summary: To Qrow, there was no greater feeling in the world than the sensation of flying through the air, nothing but the bar and Clover to rely on.

That's why the fall was so devastating. [Circus AU]

~

“Net check!”

Qrow rolled his eyes as Clover fell backwards off the trapeze platform, saluting as he went. He looked over the edge just to make sure his partner hadn’t died, before shouting down at him, “You know, after two years, that’s decidedly less impressive.”

“Don’t lie. You love it just as much as you love me.” He was too far to actually see if he was winking, but Qrow knew he definitely was.

Rather than respond, he just continued on with the safety check. He gripped at the bar, pulling on it. No give, no worrisome noises. Rigging seemed secure. He took another step back, before doing a running leap off, holding on tight as he traveled over the net until he came to a stop at the center of their stage.

He twisted his body upwards, landing on the top of the bar and swung back and forth lazily, listening carefully to everything above him. During a performance, over the roaring crowd and blasting music, it was impossible to hear any of the small, subtle sounds of the cabling above. So, any out of place screech or worrisome clonk that could imply something was about to give would go completely unheard. But in the near silence of the empty Big Top, he could hear even the tiniest creak of the frame as it bore his weight.

Nothing out of place.

He slipped his feet off the bar, freefalling for a fraction of a second before his arms caught it. Everything held. Just as it had the last two times they’d done the check throughout the day. He thought it was a little excessive, but James was a stickler for routine, and after taking partial ownership of the circus, had immediately enacted the three-check rule.

There were a lot of those kinds of changes the performers of the former “Marvelous Circus of Oz” had to put up with when they officially became partners with James’ “Fabled Ace Ops”. Higher demands on performance training, complete restructuring of acts and teammates, stricter guidelines on fashion. Qrow wasn’t even allowed to wear nail polish anymore.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” He remembered shouting at his new boss. “What do you think’ll happen Jimmy? Is my polish gonna eat through the bar?”

Ozpin had to pull him aside after that one, practically pleading for him to cooperate. It was hard to continue being pissed off when he had to face his old friend’s weary, desperate eyes. He knew this was a shitty situation, for all of them. But it was either this or all of them be out of a job. So, Qrow let it go and tried his best to play nice.

Though, he supposed as he turned around on the bar to face the platform Clover was once again standing on, not everything that had resulted in the merger was terrible. Sure, he’d been downright hostile when James had first reassigned Raven with Summer’s act and appointed his own star trapeze artist to him – but it didn’t take long for Qrow to warm up to the other man. Clover was like a magnet of good qualities: friendly, confidant, encouraging, honest.

He was also ridiculously attractive, so that was a plus.

Qrow rocked his body, gaining momentum until he could swing himself back over to the platform, securing the bar down. “Alright, we’re good.”

“No, you missed something.” Clover spoke up.

“What?” He looked around, doing a mental catalogue of his checklist. “No, I didn’t. Wha-ah!”

Strong arms wound around his waist, pulling him in and a big, wet sloppy kiss was planted right on his cheek. “You forgot the kiss for good luck.”

Qrow snorted. He didn’t believe in superstition, especially with names like theirs. He had to of gotten every good luck-bad luck comment probably known to the universe. Didn’t mean he wasn’t above teasing about it. “You’re disgusting and a heathen.”

Clover gasped loudly, before whirling them around, letting him go. “Oh Qrow, my love! How could you wound me this way?” He backed up the two steps it took to get back to the edge, hands crossing over the center of his chest. “The pain, it’s just too much to bear! Goodbye cruel world.”

And with another wink, he went back over.

Qrow tried, he really did, but even biting down on his lip didn’t stop the guffaws that escaped as he looked down again. “You’re an idiot!”

“Joke’s on you,” He hollered back triumphantly, “I’m yours!”

Even with the distance between them, he was sure Clover knew he was smiling.

~

The night was going spectacularly well. The audience was receptive and easily emotive. They’d gotten loud cheers for Summer and Raven’s silk dance and wows for Elm and Vine’s high-wire act. It had been a while since they’d had a crowd this good and the rest of the crew was feeling it too, all of them buzzing to get on stage and feed into the energy.

“Alright, Marrow and the kids are finishing up. Qrow and Clover you’re up. Robyn and Tai, get ready to follow.” Oz called as he snaked his way between the teams, popping his top hat back on his head as he went.

“Ah, what a shame that your act will be completely overshadowed by ours.” Robyn taunted. Though she lacked malice, her pride wasn’t unwarranted.

When people thought of circuses, they thought of all the typical acts: animal taming, clowns, trapeze work. No one really thought of fire arrows. It was the only act of its kind in the world, and one that had happened by complete mistake.

Robyn, from James’ crew, was an extremely precise archer – able to split her own arrows and even bounce them off other obstacles and still hit a target’s bull’s-eye. Tai, from their circus, was their fire performer, his talents ranging from being able to spin and juggle batons that were ablaze on either end to swallowing lit torches and breathing plumes of fire upwards like a dragon. Early on into the merger, the two just happened to be practicing by one another, showboating and trying to one up each other on their skills. One thing led to another, and Tai ended up challenging Robyn to shoot through his flames and still hit her target.

It was when she pulled it off, that the idea to combine their acts was born.

Qrow wouldn’t deny it made for a hell of a sight – but that didn’t mean he’d let her get away with her ribbing without giving back a bit of his own, “Please. Ours will be so good, they won’t be able to get it off their minds long enough to pay attention to yours.”

“Hah, you wish!”

Clover, smug as can be, threw an arm over his shoulders as he added, “Now Robyn, you know wishes are for stars, of which Qrow and I happen to be.”

“And they say I blow a lot of smoke.” Tai intervened with a wave of his hand, “Get on outta here you two before you end up holding up the whole show.”

Anything more that they might have said was interrupted by the sound of laughter floating in with Marrow, Ruby and Yang as they returned backstage. The three were propped up on each other’s shoulders like a human Leaning Tower of Pisa. Qrow and Clover were quick to assist the younger man bearing their combined weight, helping the younger girls down on their feet.

He didn’t have a lot of time, but Qrow still took a second to ruffle Ruby’s hair. “Good job kiddo.”

The eight-year old gave him a tooth-gaped smile, saying, “Break a leg Uncle Qrow!”

“In thirteen places.” He promised, before following his trapeze partner out into the darkness of the stage.

“And now, it’s the moment you all knew was coming. Introducing our Flying Aces, Qrow Branwen and Clover Ebi!” Ozpin’s voice boomed from where he stood in the center of the stage.

Qrow linked his arm with Clover’s just as the spotlight moved to capture them, both of them raising up their free hands up high as if catching the applause from the audience. So close, it was obvious how similar their clothing was – himself in a black leotard that blended into red and Clover in a complementary white to green one. Though turned from the crowd, on their backs was a design choice Qrow himself had insisted upon: Wings to follow the color gradient.

They were the Flying Aces after all.

Oz continued with his announcement, but having heard it so many times before, he mostly tuned it out as he and Clover split from one another, each of them climbing up the ladders to the platforms opposite each other. As the final words from their ringleader faded, the lights below went out, bringing all the attention skyward.

Qrow unhooked the bar that he’d secured only hours ago. The music started to roll, but the moment he went swinging off the platform, it was as if everything else faded. There was nothing except him, the bar and the sensation of wind and weightlessness as he turned his body around, hooking his knees around the edges and hanging down free. As his movement slowed, he eased his grip, gravity bringing him down into a short drop before his ankles caught onto the edge instead. After another few moments, he unhooked his left, all of his weight now on just the right leg as he let his free limbs spread out wide like a taxidermist’s greatest prize.

Mostly he was a distraction, performing small tricks while Clover got into place, throwing himself off his own platform to gain momentum so he could prepare to catch him. He knew his partner was ready when he signaled him with a salute. Qrow pulled himself up so his legs could dangle once again, pushing himself into motion once more. At the apex of their swings, he let go, Clover gripping his wrists easily. They flew together briefly, before he returned him to the bar, Qrow doing an easy spin midair to catch it.

It was his second leap that earned them applause, this time somersaulting twice in midair before being captured. Even over all the white noise in his ears, he could make out Clover’s exhilarated chuckles and a breathless laugh left him as well. This was something they shared: The excitement of the flight, the adrenalin born from hanging freely nearly thirty feet in the air, the thrill brought on with each completed trick as their routine built together.

The joy of doing it all with someone he loved.

Without question, it was that last one that made him do what he did next.

Qrow’s hands clasped onto the bar as he was thrown back to it, swinging his legs up and fitting them between his grip so he could hang upside down again, this time prepared to grab the other man so they could move into the second part of their act.  Clover took his turn to fly over, doing a flip of his own.

But Qrow didn’t move into position for the catch.

Hours later, when asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone precisely what it was that warned him – maybe he heard something snap. Maybe he noticed a change in his balance. Or maybe it was just a feeling in his gut. But somehow, he knew.

So, for the first time since they’d perfected the move, Qrow missed.

Clover went flying one way.

As the rigging broke above him, Qrow went the other way, further and out of control.

The freefall sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to him – he’d dropped thousands of times before. On those rare cases it was unintentional, he was usually even talented enough to make it look like part of the act.

The white-hot agony that laced through him as something impacted his side with the force of a bullet was new though, unexpected in its ferocity.

It was all his mind could grasp at until he was bouncing off the edge of the net and the ground rushed up to meet him.

~

Incessant beeping roused him.

His first thought was he immediately wanted to go back to bed. Whatever the hell he had been doing must have been brutal, because his body ached all over, particularly centralized in his shoulder and hip and his stomach was especially throbbing.

Qrow made a noise in the back of his throat, trying to raise his arm to shut off the alarm, only to find it oddly weighted. His head flopped to the left and he grumbled, “C’ver, ‘larm.”

Suddenly the weight lifted, still there but entirely focused on his wrist. Oh, it was a hand.

“Qrow? Hey babe, you awake?” Clover’s voice coming from above him rather than beside him was what finally got him to open his eyes.

Immediately he realized he wasn’t home in the trailer when instead of just more bed and a window, there was a machine next to him and a wall a few feet away. The machine was the thing making the noise. His gaze rolled around, taking in the IV stand next and gathered a pretty good guess on where he was.

A shift made him look towards the figure hovering over him. His partner looked like a wreck, expression pale and drawn. Dark circles were laden under sleepless eyes.

“Hey.” Soft as his voice, Clover’s hand brushed through his hair, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Qrow replied, swallowing around his tongue which felt oddly swollen. “Heavy.”

“Yeah that’s probably the anesthesia wearing off.”

“Anesthesia?” That didn’t sound promising.

His partner took a moment to pull the chair behind him closer, sitting down right at his bedside. The hand still holding his squeezed lightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

Shifting through his own head, vague memories of spotlights and soaring through the air came back to him – as well as a stomach-dropping sensation that wasn’t meant to be there. “I fell.”

Clover’s voice shook a little, “Yeah, you did.”

There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the most important one came out first, “How bad am I?”

“You’re gonna be okay. You, have a few fractures but, nothing major broke.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Your stomach’s a mess though. When the cabling gave out, part of it snapped back and hit you. It ripped right into your intestines. You were in surgery for six hours.”

Qrow took that in sluggishly, focusing mostly on the first part. It meant he could still perform. The rest of it could wait for more thought another day.

So, he moved on. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm?”

“Where were you when I fell?”

“I, uh,” Clover’s laughed, but it sounded a bit wrong. “Down on the net. I was uh, flying over to you and you just didn’t catch me. I think you knew something was wrong, ‘cause Summer said you never even reached for me.”

The significance of that hit him instantly. There were a few universal rules any trapeze worker knew – the topmost being just how vital it was for the flyer to swing after a catch. The human skeleton was a surprisingly delicate thing, and the arc of motion that followed alleviated all of the pressure the body underwent from the flight and drop. But, if the flow of motion was hindered or stopped all together, say by a snapping cable line, all that pressure suddenly didn’t have anywhere go and instead the force would compact onto the body.

At best, the sudden whiplash would have injured Clover’s spine, maybe bruised an organ or two.

At worst, it would have broken his neck.

His partner lifted his hand, lips pressing against the back of his skin as he whispered reverently, “You saved my life.”

Qrow let out a slow breath, mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Nah. I just took falling for you real literally.”

This time, when Clover laughed, it was much more genuine, even as tears finally flowed from his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

His reply was a victory: “Joke’s on you. I’m yours.”

With no distance between them, neither of them could miss the other’s smile.

[tarotdeckshuffle]

Could I request some headcanons of the chocobros's s/o feeling a little under the weather and wanting to be with their bro for some time? A comfort thing.

Ohh baby, yes you can. Because I’ve been running a fever all day today and was actually daydreaming about this. I hope you’re feeling better, too, Anon! ❤

I swear, I’ll get back to doing requests in order as soon as Four Suns is done. I am so excited (especially about one). You all entrust me with your amazing ideas and, many times, concepts that are immensely personal. I want to give each one the time and energy they deserve, but sometimes, I can’t muster that.

Taglist: @idiotflowerex, @laststory1013, @sayaoqueen, @jophinabean

If you like what you read, please consider supporting me on Patreon or buying me a Ko-fi!

Noctis

He’d want to make you feel better so bad.

But is also sort of grossed out if you’re really sick.

Also, doesn’t want to get sick himself.

But he really doesn’t know how to handle this.

So he’s constantly calling the nurse for you.

It’ll get annoying, but he’s worried.

He’ll bring you anything you want.

Always making sure you have a full glass of water at your bedside.

You want cuddles? Perfect!

He’ll fall asleep next to you.

You’ll watch whatever movies you want.

Or play anything you want (he’ll even let you win).

Just wants you to feel better.

But is a major baby if he catches what you have.

Prompto

The world is practically ending.

This is serious!!

He’s so worried about you!

Would bring you every sort of medicine the drug store has.

And a cute stuffed animal to make you feel better.

Anything you could remotely want is yours.

Movies? Boom, he’s got five to choose from.

Games? All of them are at your disposal.

You won’t have to lift a finger!

He thinks it’s adorable if you randomly fall asleep.

Is also less squeamish than Noct, but still not great.

All of the cuddles.

All of them.

Anything for you.

If he catches what you have, he’ll try to tough it out with a smile on his face.

But if you start babying him, it’s all over.

Ignis

Is this most calm over this matter.

Knows all the proper medicines.

Always keeps you hydrated.

Sets up a hot bath with essential oils to help clear your head.

He is truly the best nurse.

Has his arm around you as you cuddle.

Smiling as you fall asleep against him.

May fall asleep, as well.

Not squeamish because he knows how to keep himself well.

And the soup he makes! Wow.

Delicious and makes you feel better.

Would even feed you, likely making you blush.

“Oh, stop. It’s one of the few times I can actually care for you.”

If you do try to get up, he’ll be playful but determined to get you back to bed.

“You need your rest, dearest. Don’t make me carry you back.”

If he catches what you have, he’ll try to work through it, making himself sicker.

He’ll be so grateful when you take care of him, but he won’t know what to do with himself.

Gladio

You are being taken care of, if it’s the last thing he does.

Seriously, won’t let you lift a finger.

Will carry you back to bed if you try to get out.

You have water always at hand.

And tissues.

And a book.

Doesn’t really like medicine, but he’ll get it for you.

And even sets up a humidifier with mint oils to help clear your head.

If you have the strength, he’ll try to get you to take a walk with him,

Seeing if movement and sweat help get the cold out of you.

But will quickly learn his lesson if that doesn’t work.

All the cuddles.

Power cuddles.

You’re in his lap or at his side.

You’ll watch classic movies together.

Or he’ll read to you.

Loves watching you fall asleep against him.

This guy is not squeamish at all.

He’s always checking your temperature.

Keeping tabs on you.

He’ll have you better in no time.

If he catches what you have, though.

You’ll never hear the end of it.

Sure, he can take all the hits the Empire can dole out,

But a head cold will cripple him.

He’s such a loud complainer with that nasally voice.

He’ll pout when you remind him of such.

Bonus:

Ravus

Will be pissed if you don’t tell him and try to work through it.

He’s so worried about you and so mad that you didn’t just tell him.

He was sickly as a child, so the Manor nurses won’t let him around you when you’re sick.

And that upsets him even more.

But you’ll always have fresh flowers at your bedside.

As the best nurses in Tenebrae care for you.

Will occasionally sneak in to check on you,

Bringing you small gifts like your favorite book or sweets.

As he runs his hand down your face,

“Get well soon, my darling.”

Before he’s shooed away.

Luna

Will want to stop the whole world until you’re well,

But she may not be able to.

She’ll make sure you’re well tended to even when she’s away.

And every minute that she can, she’ll be beside you.

Sitting at your bedside or snuggling up next to you in bed.

Will read to you to relax you.

Will constantly have Pyrna and Umbra at your feet, snuggling in her place.

And leaves cute notes for you to find when you awake.

Ardyn

Will bring the world to its knees to make you feel better.

This will hit him hardest, as he used to be able to heal you.

And now…?

But he’ll make sure you are always cared for.

It may amaze you how well he knows how to care for you.

He’s not squeamish in the slightest.

Kissing your forehead to check your temperature.

Sweeping in with more water for you.

Knowing just what will settle your stomach.

Snuggles? Always.

You’ll curl up against him in bed and he wouldn’t move for the world.

He’ll read stories to you,

Or simply hum as he pets your hair.

The whole world will stop until you’re well.

Nyx

Is actually super caring about this whole ordeal.

Used to care for his sister when she got sick.

So he really wants to take care of you,now.

He’ll make sure you have all of the essentials: water, tissues, soup, etc.

And plenty of movies to watch and things to do.

If he has to go out, he’ll fret over your every need.

“I’ll be fine! I’m sick, not dying.”

“You better not be!”

But he’ll hurry back.

Cuddles? Oh yes.

All of that soft, warm goodness with your Glaive as he kisses your head.

Speaking of soft, warm goodness, he’ll actually make you cookies while you’re sick.

Sure, they’re from a package, but they’re the kind he knows you love.

He used to do this for his sister, so it brings joy to his heart.

If he catches what you have he’ll try to work through it.

But will loudly complain each morning and take way too much cold medicine.

Then be asleep on the couch all day long.

Cor

Also wants to stop the world for you,

But will settle on making his world about you.

He’s calm and fairly nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

He doesn’t act worried, but makes sure you have the essentials.

Gets the basic cold medicine.

But your butt will be at the doctor if you’re not better in exactly one day.

You won’t even have to ask for cuddles.

This man will be tender if you open your arms to him.

He’ll be cuddled up next to you in an instant.

Holding you close to his chest.

Just listening to his heartbeat is comforting,

But he’ll put on a movie or show if you want.

Understands you don’t want something you have to focus on.

He won’t leave your side until you’re well.

If he catches what you have, he won’t make a huge deal out of it,

But will be sick for much longer.

And use ALL of the cold medicine.

He’s only slightly overdramatic.

[cythians]

Koi is sick and Kakeru (un)lucky

This is a draft! It’s not finished yet but I really wanted to upload this for now... I wrote this, this morning on my way to work since I am a little sick-- but as you would have it, as I was bullying Kakeru my own bad luck caught up with me and I spilt my whole smoothie on the counter, the floor and my pants.... talk about karma haha.

Koi x Kakeru

I also feel like it’s harder to write younger Koi rather than older Koi? Anyways, this is more Kakeru centred. Enjoy! ---I will probably edit this later!

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

"I told you! If you overwork yourself like this..." Kakeru paused in his scolding "You'll get sick" he crossed his arms as the pink-haired one took the scolding like a puppy. Head downcast as his actual puppy-like eyes looked up at Kakeru, but he pouted as a frown formed on his forehead. He looked down at the now grinning pink-haired man he had put to bed.

He had overworked himself, and come down with a fever. Kakeru sighed before bending down to place a hand on the other's forehead, it was definitely warmer than it should be. But if he has the bags under Koi's eyes and the tinted cheeks as anything to go by, it was very clear he was sick.

Even though, Koi was grinning as he looked up at his blond friend

"I don't mind getting sick if you're the one taking care of me"

Koi answered him cheekily but started a coughing fit afterwards, Kakeru rubbed his back and moved him to sit up. Koi smiled half-heartedly and apologetically once he was done. "That's your delusions talking" Kakeru commented a little annoyed and flicked the other's nose. Smiling at the reddened face from his sickness.

Kakeru searched his pink eyes before making himself stand up.  "I'll get you some porridge and the thermometer" he finally conceded. It was Kakeru's day off and he didn't really expect to be taking care of Koi today. Aoi and Arata had left in the early morning and he couldn't ask the seniors, he felt that it was his duty as his pairing partner. So, off he went to the kitchen.

Although, knowing Kakeru's luck, he'd burn the porridge.... or even worse, stumble and throw it all over Koi. That would be a sight to behold.

But Koi was lucky enough for that second one to be less probable. For some reason Koi was always left out of trouble when bad luck hit Kakeru, the pools of rain a car ran through always seemed to drench Kakeru but when Koi was next to him it didn't seem to happen, or it did just not hit Koi.

Which didn't make sense! Since he was the taller of the two.

Kakeru went through the kitchen cabinets, looking for a box that said porridge. It felt like one of those days, a day in which Kakeru's bad luck would catch up to him. That low and deep gut feeling had him on edge. He knocked over a few boxes already, catching a few but one of them spilling its contents on the floor. He looked down at the flakes. Well, at least he had found the porridge. He grumbled loudly, frustrated by his own movements as he now carefully placed the boxes back into the cabinet, leaving the porridge box out. As soon as that was done he closed the cabinet door and let out a sigh of relief. Happy that the cabinet didn't fall or something. That would be more disastrous.

Kakeru then moved on to putting milk in a pan and heating it up, slowly mixing the porridge flakes, never taking his eye of the mixture because he knew something would happen if he did. When it was done he got a bowl and poured it full for Koi. Proud of his ability to make his friend a meal. Realising Kakeru had made a little too much he got a second bowl to fill.

Hey, if there is enough food, he'll eat too.

But as you would guess, for some reason his leg gave in and he slipped with pan and all, the second portion of porridge splattering everywhere. The floor, the cabinet and on Kakeru. He groaned as he sat on his butt, also covered in porridge and the kitchen a mess. But at least Koi's bowl was okay.

He stood up and grabbed a rag to get the most of the porridge of off himself, then turned to the mess that was the kitchen and decided he'd clean that up after he got Koi his porridge and thermometer. He grabbed the thermometer and put it in his back pocket, taking the bowl with both of his hands and holding it as tightly as he could, went over to Koi's room again.

Entering the room, he closed the door behind him, being careful about the bowl in his one hand. Koi sat up as soon as he heard the door. "What was going on out there?" He spoke groggily, his voice failing him as he started coughing again. Kakeru saw that Koi had put his phone down, he was watching anime again.

"You should be resting" he scolded him once again as he nudged towards Koi's phone. Koi glanced at it as well.

"I am resting"

"You're not"

"I am"

Kakeru grumbled at the stubborn Koi and instead decided to feed him his porridge to shut him up. Kakeru spoonfed him for a few bites before Koi decided to speak up, the thermometer was long forgotten.

"Why are you feeding me though?"

Koi asked as Kakeru looked at the bowl to scoop another bite for Koi. Koi looked at him with curious eyes. "Because you're acting like a baby" Koi's expression fell at that and he pouted, still opening his mouth though, Kakeru chuckled. "Says the one who is covered in porridge stains" Koi retorted, now it was Kakeru's turn to pout. "I can't do anything about my bad luck.." he excused himself as he brought another bite to Koi's mouth before turning it around and eating it himself. "Oi" Koi called out. "You'll get sick" he warned the other who looked him in the eyes. "Knowing my luck, I'll get sick anyways" Kakeru looked down at the bowl again before he glanced up to Koi through his lashes, tilting his head slightly, "Take care of me then, okay?" he asked as he gave Koi his sweetest smile. Koi smiled widely at that, the tinge on his cheeks making him look even cuter than he usually does. "Of course, Kakerun!" He cheered.

How he still had this energy when he was sick, was something only Koi could do, granted, he was more mellowed, but still. Kakeru continued to feed him until the bowl was finished and he set it aside. Koi was content as he sat happily against the head of his bed, Kakeru watching him as he now drank a gulp of water. Koi noticed his stare and finished drinking. "You got anything else to do today?" The pinkette then asked as he saw him fiddling with his fingers. "No....just taking care of you" he replied as he seemed to be thinking about something. Kakeru flashed him a quick smile. Koi grinned as he moved one of his hands to Kakeru's leg, getting his attention. "Kakeru is the best remedy for my sickness" were the words coming from his mouth. "So I'm sure I'll be all good by tomorrow" Koi smiled mischievously. Kakeru realised what he was saying and flushed. He knew exactly what Kakeru was thinking. "Koi!" "Where did you learn to say things like that?" Kakeru said exasperated. Koi only chuckled as his grin spread.

"Kakerun just makes me want to say things like that"

Koi mused as he leaned over to the blonde, tucking his hair behind his ear. Kakeru just blinked.

Koi's eyes seemed to fleetingly look down at Kakeru's lips, before moving back to his golden eyes which shimmered in the dimmed lighting. "If I wasn't sick I would kiss you" Koi grimaced as he let his hand linger on Kakeru's cheek before pulling it back to his lap. The latter then felt hot in his face, he was sure the blush was very visible now and his eyes grew soft. "You know what I said before right?" Kakeru tried to remind Koi but he only gave him a confused look. "You. can. kiss. me" Kakeru spelt out. When it clicked in Koi his mind is also when he leaned in further, he softly let their lips touch before they interlocked. Koi's lips were still warm from the porridge as Kakeru tried to let the feeling linger. It was a short kiss but with quite something heavy behind it. I mean, years of sexual frustration.

They broke their kiss, both backing away ever so slightly.

"Wow," Koi said dramatically, still looking into the eyes of Kakeru, watching for any reaction forming in them. He couldn't see anything else but sparkles though.

"Exactly" Kakeru copied him as he put his hand atop of Koi's "Wow" Kakeru matched his dramatic display and grinned afterwards.

Kakeru then moved to sit next to Koi on the bed, it denting as he sat. The air became thinner between the both of them and Kakeru softly traced his finger on the top of Koi's hand.

"Ko-i...." he trailed as he frowned a little before he looked up at Koi again, gaze low but his eyes looking up, that beautiful golden colour. Koi felt even sicker now, but a better kind of sick, he felt lovesick. He hummed as he turned his hand around to hold Kakeru's.

"I love you"

[ciestessde]

Phantasma Magica Ch. 8

STORY SUMMARY

Clockwork and the Observants send Danny to Hogwarts on a special mission. But, cryptic as ever, that Old Stopwatch never actually told him what would happen on it!!! “All you need to do right now, Daniel, is stay focused on your mission. And remember, the-” “‘The Lions with the time-turner, lightning-bolt scar, and hair like fire are friends; watch out for the rat; and the black dog is not a threat.’ Yeah, you’ve only repeated that a few dozen times today.”

Next → ← Previous (First)

When Danny arrived in Lupin’s office without the promised rat, well...

Sirius was furious. They now had essentially no way of finding Pettigrew -- except wandering around and hoping against hope that they spotted him.

Remus tried to calm him down. “He won’t have gone far. He has no reason to suspect Danny’s true motives. I’m sure he’ll turn up again-” “But for how long?! We had him! I KNEW I should’ve gotten him myself!” Danny floated down and let his feet touch the floor near the pacing Sirius. “I’m sorry. I can try to track him, but it’s hard to feel a living human soul under an animal’s mind.” Sirius stopped walking and spun to face him. His jaw tight, he growled, “I have a better idea.”

They spent several hours using Sirius’ dog nose and knowledge of the castle (helped by Danny’s invisibility) to search. But with no luck.

Still. The walk and passing of time helped calm Sirius a bit. After finishing by searching the castle grounds -- still with no luck -- they ended their search in the Shrieking Shack.

Defeated, Sirius changed back into a human and sat on the dilapidated excuse for a bed. “...” Danny floated there awkwardly. Remembering how he had almost attacked innocent Sirius in this room... “... I know there wasn’t much you could do.” Sirius head continued to hang -- he was looking at the news clipping he’d shown Danny. The one with the picture of “Scabbers.” “He knows this castle just as well as Moony and me. I just…” A shadow passed over his expression, but he looked up with a fire in his eyes. “I refuse to let that traitor go free. I don’t want go back to Azkaban -- you have no idea what being around that many of those things is like -- but I’d rather that than let Wormtail continue living like nothing happened.” His gaze softened, and his mouth thinned into a line. “That’s no excuse for taking it out on you, though, so… I’m sorry about that. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open for now.”

It had been a particularly long day for Danny, so, despite the sun being up, he decided to sleep in his makeshift bedroom in the Pipes. He had taken some pillows from the Divination classroom, a spare blanket from a closet -- and so on -- to form as cosey a resting area as he could manage in the damp space. Granted, the cold didn’t affect him (thankfully), but these things (the cushions especially) made it easier to relax.

“Scabbers” never showed up again, though, and the disappearance of his beloved pet had a rather unexpectedly drastic effect on Ron. As more and more time passed with no evidence as to what happened, he came to the most natural conclusion: “First the Firebolt, and now this! That bloody cat of yours ate him! He ATE SCABBERS!” If Danny didn’t know better, he probably would’ve agreed with Ron -- Crookshanks had shown a lot of interest in hunting the malnourished rodent, after all. But the extent to which Ron was blaming Hermione for his pet’s “death” was… actually mildly concerning. Danny excused most of Ron’s behaviour as raging hormones, but still… 

A part of him, a large part of him, wanted to tell them what actually happened -- that Scabbers was Pettigrew, that they had no reason to worry about Black anymore… -- But he just couldn’t risk it. If he told them, they’d act differently. And he had no way of knowing if or when Pettigrew might be watching. He couldn’t afford to tip him off. So instead... he let Ron mourn his rat.

Danny had been going with Harry to his anti-dementor lessons, regularly talking with Lupin about phantasms afterwards. The professor had decided to write a book about him. (No personal information, of course!) It was during one of these that Danny’s dislike -- bordering on hate -- of the wizards’ Ministry was solidified. “It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the dementors permission to suck out Sirius’ soul if they find him.” “-What?!” “It’s not that surprising, really. It’s one of the most extreme punishments for criminals -- but that’s the type of criminal they believe him to be.” “How are you so calm about this?!” “I assure you, I am not. But there’s not much more we can do about it than we already are doing. Sirius will just have to be extra careful not to get caught.”

Danny couldn’t argue with that. And besides, he had other things to distract him when he saw his friends the next morning. The teachers had finally satisfied themselves that Sirius’ anonymous present to Harry, the “Firebolt” broomstick, was safe. But while Harry was just excited to have his broom back (him and the entirety of the Gryffindor House, who seemed to think the Quidditch Cup was practically theirs because of it) -- Ron took this as yet more proof of Hermione being a terrible friend. “See, Hermione? There wasn’t anything wrong with it!” “Well -- there might have been!” Danny supposed Hermione’s arguing back didn’t help matters much… “I mean, at least you know now that it’s safe!” “Yeah, I suppose so,” was Harry’s response. ‘Oh wow. I hope I wasn’t this oblivious back when-’ He cut off that thought. There was no point in thinking about that now.

With Ron even more opposed to spending time with Hermione; and Harry thoroughly distracted by the Firebolt, his lessons with Lupin, and the upcoming Quidditch match against the Hufflepuff house… Danny decided to spend more time with Hermione. Hermione, who was secretly using a time-turner to time-travel and attend more classes than she should be able to, but was somehow now drowning in homework in the Gryffindor Common Room… … Danny was very confused.

He tapped her shoulder lightly before speaking so she’d know it was him. “Why don’t you just use the time-turner to get more rest?” he whispered. “What?!” She flinched. That was too loud. She checked to make sure no one noticed, then whispered, “How do you know about the time-turner?” “I was sent here by Clockwork, the Master of Time, remember? That thing is giving off faint time-aura from under your shirt. Although, I can probably only detect it because I’ve been around the stuff so much.” She was silent for a moment. “I’m supposed to avoid changing time as much as possible. Loads of wizards who’ve meddled with time have ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake! To use it for anything other than the absolutely essential is too risky! Professor McGonagall was very clear about the rules I was to follow in order to use it. It’s all part of her agreement with the Ministry.” Danny contained a snort of laughter. “Um… Actually… It’s more like the agreement they have with Clockwork.”

Hermione stopped writing in her notes. “I can personally guarantee that using the time-turner to, y’know… not go insane will be perfectly fine by my mentor.” “... Could we… Speak in private for a bit?” Danny thought he knew where this was going. “You want to know more about Clockwork and stuff?” “If that’s alright.” “I can share a little, anyway.”

Hermione packed up her schoolwork, and they moved to an abandoned classroom. “So the Ministry -- or someone at the Ministry -- knows Chron- I mean, Clockwork?!” “Well… Kind of. I’m not allowed to tell you much, but let’s just say that most of those deaths were actually Clockwork following the orders of HIS bosses. Time travel’s not all that dangerous, really.” “What about paradoxes?” “Things just split into a new timeline.” “Huh… So then, why all the rules?” “To keep humans from abusing the power. They -- Clockwork’s bosses -- don’t like not knowing what’s going to happen.”

There was silence for a few moments while Hermione thought. “Danny… You said Clockwork is your guardian.” “Yeah…” It wasn’t a question. “I’m, uh… Not a normal phantasm…” Hermione winced. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “No, it’s alright.”

Danny settled down at one of the desks. “... I used to be human. My parents were ghost hunters -- some of the best in the field, in fact! They built what was supposed to be a portal into the ghosts’ dimension -- the ‘Ghost Zone’ -- but it didn’t work. I, like an idiot, went inside to get a closer look. It turned on with me inside it.” Hermione’s eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. “In order for a phantasm to form, rather than be born, a soul has to come in contact with a large amount of ectoplasmic energy and have a strong enough will to live. Clockwork… He saved me. If not for him, I wouldn’t have become a phantasm -- I’d just be dead.” “Oh…” “...”

“Have you… ever gone back?” “...” Danny looked at the desk in front of him. “A few times. But, uh… Going back for too long or often would… not be good. I could become ‘tied’ there and never able to leave. And if that happened…” He paled, “I’d-rather-not-think-about-it.” “I’m sorry!” “--No, no… It’s alright.” He smiled at her. “You, uh, actually remind me a lot of one of my friends from back then.” His eyes lit up, and he smiled. “Sam, she was this big activist. She was a self-proclaimed ‘ultra-recyclo-vegetarian’ and goth, and she always had a cause -- usually multiple -- that she was fighting for! She would’ve loved your whole ‘free the house-elves’ movement! And my sister, Jazz -- you’re both ridiculously smart and like taking care of your friends.” Hermione was blushing a little bit, but seemed pleased. “You must miss them terribly.” Danny grimaced, his smile fading. “Yeah…”

She moved over so she could rest her hand on his arm. Cold, but not as freezing as she expected. “If there’s anything I can do to make this place feel more like home to you…” She smiled comfortingly at him. “Just tell me. You’re my friend.” He smiled back at her.

“So, uh… You going to start using the time-turner more?” “Oh!” Hermione moved back to where she had spread out her homework and grabbed a blank piece of parchment. She started muttering and working out some math problems. “... Yes, if I take a few hours out of my sleeping schedule, there should be enough room for two of me in my bed… And that room should be empty during this period…” She seemed satisfied after a few minutes. And indeed, Hermione looked much more rested after that. Danny even played lookout on occasion to make sure no one noticed multiple Hermiones wandering around.

‘Now that I’ve solved that problem…’ Ron had noticed Danny was spending more time with Hermione, and he took it as a sign of betrayal. Danny tried to think of some way he could bridge the gap between the two: ‘He’ll come around eventually. Even if it won’t be until he finds out about Pettigr-though... I guess that might just make him MORE upset…’ … But he was coming up empty.

Harry (or rather, Harry’s Firebolt) was more successful at cheering Ron up. There was a lot of excitement as the first match came up that Harry’d be riding it in. And when Danny got to see Harry fly on it, he understood why.

It wasn’t quite as fast as Danny was when he flew -- but it was pretty damn close! No one else on (above?) the field stood a chance! And to put icing on the cake, Harry completely humiliated some bullies who tried to sabotage him, too! Malfoy -- (‘Why is it always Malfoy?! That’s it. I need to ask them how this rivalry started!’) -- and some of his friends had thought it was a brilliant idea to try and scare Harry by dressing up and pretending to be dementors. But, as Lupin put it, Harry “gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright” when he used the “patronus charm” he’d been working on in his anti-dementor lessons against them. The group of Slytherin students got into a lot of trouble for their stunt, AND Harry won the game for the Gryffindor team!

And for a while, things were actually peaceful -- for both Danny AND his friends.

But still without any sign of Peter Pettigrew.

~~~~~

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[dwtspd]

SYTYCD s16: the Final Cut - part 2, Guys

Had a busy week, recorded the show and saw it on Tuesday but hadn’t had time to sit down and sort out my notes. Anyway, this episode was really exciting because they had a really good group of guys.

Before we go, some thoughts about prior rounds - Sad to see Jay go. I figured he would never make it to the live shows even competing as himself and not as Estranja, just because this show is stuck in its cis binary gender world. I’m glad he came out here for two years to make a statement

Same as last week, I’ll include the contestant’s home style in brackets and score each dance out of ten.

Bailey Munoz (b-boy) with Lauren Froderman, contemporary - I’m rooting HARD for Bailey. He is so cute and his talent is off the charts!!! I’m curious as to why he was given contemporary in this round, since it seems (at least for the ladies) they were given styles they struggled with but his contemporary round was good. If that was still his weakest style, he’s gonna take this show by storm. Now for his dance with Lauren - wow!! D-trix reps me with his response. Bailey is really powerful and he knows how to use his strengths. He had a great connection with Lauren. Nice to see him taking care of details like pointing his toes. 10/10

Ezra Sosa (ballroom) with Comfort Fedoke, hip-hop - Stephanie’s little brother. He says he isn’t saucy...but I think Latin ballroom has got to have some of the sauciest styles out there. Maybe he’s thinking more swagger? In any case, I liked his performance a lot! Only thing is he might have been in his head a little bit. The judges gave him good comments but didn’t look very enthused which confused me. 9/10

Vlad Kvartin (ballroom) with Melanie Moore, contemporary - So we barely glimpsed Vlad up till this point. I remember at the end of Academy, the judges mentioned his solo was offputting. But he is still here. This dance was a good effort and Vlad made each movement effortless, but he was stuck in his head and so the dance felt very unfeeling. Also didn’t really help that the choreo makes him scarcely more than a prop for Melanie. There was a moment where he smiled at Melanie and I thought he was finally getting into the dance, but it was an isolated event. 7/10

Aleksander Ostanin (tap) with Lindsay Arnold, cha cha cha - Choreo by Sharna. Aye DWTS ladies! from what I’m seeing, Aleksander has been on (won?) SYTYCD Ukraine. So, this was a hard routine and for the most part he looked very sharp. His downfall was the tricks because he’s not as strong upper body wise (not surprising since he’s a tap specialist). Some transitions also looked slow. He looked like he was enjoying himself, but I wanted him to project more energy. At this point I think he is stronger than Eddie if Nigel wants a tap dancer. He’s really charismatic too. 7/10

Benjamin Castro (contemporary) with Koine Iwasaki, salsa - Interesting partner assignment, but in the end Koine looked like she has been doing salsa all her life. This dance was fire. Benji’s footwork was so sharp. If only he wasn’t flat footed. He also needs to be careful not to let his butt stick out, being tall, but even that happened only 1.5 times. Unfortunately for Aleksander this was a better ballroom routine, and right after him too. 8/10

Bryan “Clocks” Volozanin (animation) with Jasmine Harper, jazz - This guy has a great positive attitude and approach, it’s a shame this dance wasn’t stronger. It was honestly kinda basic save for some jumps that Clocks didn’t pull off great (but at least we got a throwback to some of Dominic’s less than stellar ones too). 6/10

Brandon Talbott (contemporary ballet) with Lindsay, cha cha cha - choreo-ed by Emma and Sasha. Shoutout to my DWTS squad today!! I loved the choreography here, especially that cartwheel move at the end. He tried to channel his inner saucy persona, “Brando”, but sadly “Brando” didn’t come through. He still looked very ballet and pulled-up. Lacked hip action. There were some moves he was obviously pushing through. Shame, he looked good in that black jacket. 6/10

Nathan Cherry (hip-hop) with Melanie, contemporary - Haven’t seen him until now, so there ya go. Cheating storyline for an 18-year-old? I feel like that’s setting him up in a bad way. Uh anyway, this dance really really confused me. The performance itself blew hot and cold. Sometimes he was too gangly. Sometimes it almost seemed like he made a connection but the next moment it would be flat and unfeeling. Choreo didn’t give Nathan much to show either. I felt disconnected from this piece. But the judges seemed to really like it. Hence my confusion. 5/10

Gino Cosculluela (contemporary) with Lauren, jazz - first of all, it took me multiple tries to spell his last name. I think Gino’s biggest downfall will be the high expectations people have of him. Like, in this piece he wobbled once and flicked his hands weird once, which for most people would be passable, but I was thinking, this shouldn’t happen for someone of his caliber and background. Gino is very technical. I wanted more sass. The judges were stern in their comments, but Nigel made it sound like it was pretty much given he’d be in the live shows. Or I guess they are calling it studio shows. Don’t get me wrong, I think he deserves a spot. It’s just he still has room to grow and will have to fight greater expectations. 8/10

Eddie Hoyt (tap) with Comfort, hip-hop - Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. I wanted to root for him but the guy’s ballroom routine was really rough and he should have gone home there and then. But Nigel gave him a chance. Then, I actually kinda liked his last solo. It was different, and I liked the way he played with the music/sound. Was it the smartest choice given the stakes? No. In any case, I feel like he has a shot just because Nigel always needs a tap dancer. (And Aleksander hadn’t been shown until this week if that says anything about his chances of making the live shows.) I was sure Eddie would get ballroom in this round, but apparently he was assigned to it during the big Academy group number (which Mandy totally fudged, by the way. Cutting and pasting all your other dances? How original is that? /s) and did better then. Now, I had doubts for this round, but Eddie might have just done it. This was a great dance. He was in the groove. He still had that cute boy face at times but because the theme wasn’t too serious or swaggy I think he got away with this one. He probably had the roughest Academy of the ten remaining guys, but pulled this performance out at just the right time. 9/10

So, before I watched my recording I got spoiled on Twitter about Bailey and Benji getting in. Based on the judges’ reactions and previous rounds, my guesses for the other 3 were: Eddie Gino Nathan

Man, this was hard! I really waffled between Nathan and Ezra for that last spot, because I thought one was good today but the judges seemed unconvinced while the other was meh to me but the judges were positive about. In the end, it’s Ezra, Gino and Eddie joining Bailey and Benji in the live shows.

Lol Mary really pulled one on Ezra. He had convinced himself they were sending him off and was already saying his thanks and goodbyes before Mary even finished what she was saying.

The male talent pool was undoubtedly outrageous this season, though. I feel like a handful of those who didn’t get in could have displaced the top ladies in a mixed pool.

Who’s your favourite going into the top 10?

[petri808]

The Best Fight of Their Lives

Nalu Love Fest Day- Bonus Day Fight/Make up

Thank you for the story idea!  Partner in smut crime XD @random-rave   Lol, okay I’m like all smut-written out XD.  

“That mission was frustrating!  It took us so long to track those guys down and then they turned out to be a bunch of weaklings!”

“Isn’t that a good thing Natshu, less work for the same reward.”

“No way buddy,” punching the air and hoping from foot to foot, “I barely got a work out and now I’ve got all this pent-up energy!”

“I can see that,” the Exceed laughs at his best friend’s antics.  “Where’s Lushee?”

“Taking a bath…”

Lucy rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh from behind the closed door then sinks deeper into the furo until everything but her chin and up is exposed.  Her boyfriend was right that the mission was a serious disappointment, but while he still had energy to spare, the celestial mage was left fatigued.  First off, just to find the dark mages took several weeks of travel, often by foot through unpopulated areas.  Second, this was Natsu we were talking about, mister get-up-and-go, can’t stay still, and when he gets in those mindsets, Lucy had to do her best to keep him occupied or else he was likely to get into trouble.  She didn’t know what was worse, the physical exhaustion or the mental part.

She hears a loud dragging sound followed by a crash, coming from the living-room, “Natsu, what was that?!”

“It’s…. Don’t worry I’ll clean it up…”

Oh, hell no!  She’s was too tired, her body ached in places she didn’t know could hurt, and now he was probably destroying her apartment. Dragging herself out of the bath and wrapping herself in a towel, Lucy swings the door wide open to discover her boyfriend re-arranging the furniture.  All the blood in her body boils red hot, “No way!  Uh-uh!  Do you not realize what time it is!  Natsu all I wanted to do was relax in a nice hot bath and I don’t need you making a racket out here!”    

“I’m sorry Luce, I just wanted to…”

“I know what you wanted,” her response is curt because she knew he had planned to exercise.  “Weeks of walking and sleeping outdoors just to end up with crappy results…  Just please not tonight Natsu,” she rubs at her temples, “my body is tired, its sore, even my brain is fried.  Bath and then bed, that’s all I’m asking for.”  Lucy doesn’t even wait for him to respond before turning around and practically slamming the bathroom door closed behind her.

The spirit mage leans up against the door feeling a twinge of regret.  She hadn’t planned for it to come out so harshly, but she was simply too worn-out to even think coherently.  Maybe it’d be best to just get some sleep already. Lucy gives up on the bath and just readies herself for bed.  She’ll apologize, beg for cuddles, and then at least his unnaturally warm body will still soothe her aching muscles.

Meanwhile in the living room…

“Lushee is really mad at you Natshu.”

“Yeah… but I think I know a way to make it up to her.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“G’night Happy.”

Once the Exceed has left, Natsu slips into the bedroom without making a sound, quickly gathers a few items he’ll need, and prepares for Lucy to get out of the bathroom.  He can hear her movements through the walls, the sound of a brush being placed on the counter, her towel shifting and dropping to the floor, then the sounds of fabric rustling as she pulls on her sleepwear. Natsu had been so animated earlier that he’d failed to realize just how exhausted his girlfriend had been, but now, I can make it up to her,  he smirks.

When Lucy pushes open the bedroom door, “Natsu, I’m really sorry I…  what’s all this?” her eyes light up as her heart skips a beat.  The lights had been turned off, but he had placed a few of her favorite scented candles around the room giving it a warm and inviting feeling.      

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry Luce,” he takes her hands and guides her to the bed.  “I should have been more attentive to you.”

“No, I didn’t have to be a witch about it…”

Natsu chuckles, “for once just let me win an argument.  I was being the idiot, so let me make it up to you.”  He holds up a bottle of strawberry flavored massage oil flashing a grin, “please?”

Awww,  it was so rare for Natsu to actually initiate a more romantic gesture!  A light rosy hue crept onto Lucy’s cheeks, “okay.”  

He plants a kiss on her lips and nods his head towards the mattress, “get comfortable and I’ll give you a nice heated massage.”

She pulls the oversized shirt she wore off, pulls her hair into a messy bun, and slips out of her panties before lying face down on top of the comforter.  This was gonna be even better than warm cuddles!  Natsu strips down as well, no point in getting oils all over his clothes, right?  He climbs onto the bed, taking up a position to her side and pours a small coin-sized amount of the oil onto his palm, then heats up just his hands.

Starting with her legs, Natsu slowly works his way up from the soles of her feet, through her calves, to her thighs, caressing, and working out the knots.  He smooths and kneads at the muscles while the woman sighed or cringed if he hit a particularly tight area.  Lucy was in heaven for the oils provided a sweet aromatic and his warm hands melted away her pains.    

Natsu smiled at how much his girl was enjoying this.  It wasn’t often that he showed this level of tenderness, but of course with his nature, when he did, he went all out…. Especially for Lucy.  She deserved everything and more that he could give her because even if she didn’t know it, she’d become his rock.  They’ve been tied together for so long it seems, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost her.  Sure, he’s lost before, Igneel…. Lisanna…. he’s experienced the pain, but somehow this felt different.  So yes, it if took lavishing upon her little things like a massage, Natsu was all fired up for it.

He shifts positions and straddles those long lithe legs and moves along to her perky little derriere, squeezing them…. okay so maybe he was just plain fondling them.   They were so perfect to him, just like her breasts, but these two mounds fit in my hands, he chuckles.

Lucy’s voice is soft, almost sleepy, “what’s so funny?”  

“It’s nothing, I just love these.”  

“I think my ass is too big.”

“They are perfect,” Natsu leans down and bites one, making Lucy squeal, “I want them to stay just like this.”

“If you love them,” a long yawn escapes her, and she goes back to relaxing, “their yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he mumbles under his breath.  

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“No,” resuming his kneading, soon enough I’ll make it permanent…

Inching his way up her body, Natsu uses the heel of his palms to apply pressure on her lower back muscles, pressing and smoothing from bottom up to work out the tightened areas.  He applies generous amounts of oil to counter any chafing but so far, Lucy barely made a peep, mostly sighs, or the occasional cringe, it seemed she was enjoying the level of force he was applying.  In the areas around her spine where the surface is no longer flat, his thumbs lend more support.  

Once he’s gotten most of the lower knots rubbed out, he scoots up until he’s almost sitting on her ass. He reaches out, curling his hands around her shoulders and increases the heat in them just a tad.  Of all the areas he’s massaged on her so far, this area is by far the worst.  Natsu frowns slightly, maybe he should make this more of a routine, so it didn’t get so bad.  His fingers tense and knead at her flesh.  He uses the sides of his palms to press over and smooth out the areas he covers like he did with the heel on her back.  

But Lucy’s moans and groans don’t seem to be getting better, if anything they were increasing the longer he worked on her.

“Is this not helping?” Natsu finally sits back and asks her, “you keep moaning like it still hurts.”

“It’s fine…. It’s not, that’s not why.”

“You’re confusing me.” Lucy turns her head, and that’s when Natsu realizes her face is all flushed.  “Now, I’m really confused.”

“I can feel him pressing down there okay!”  her face growing even more crimson, “I tried to ignore it but… it’s not the easiest thing to do…” mumbling out that last part.

“Oh,” Natsu lets out a chocking laughter, before settling down, voice growing raspy and husky, “maybe she  wants attention too while I finish your massage.”

“Maybe…” but her tone suggested of a wanting.

Natsu chuckles and climbs off, settling instead on his side of the bed, with his back against the headboard and legs outstretched.  He pat’s his thighs, “come on Luce, climb aboard,” grinning at his witty remark, “but face away from me so I can finish your massage cause you need it.”

He holds his cock still while she centers herself and slides onto the appendage.  Lucy groans, even his cock was nice and warmed for her. Natsu chuckles again and begins to work at her neck muscles, rubbing and soothing away her aches and pains.  His fingers delve into the hairline, massaging around her ears, all over her scalp, kneading like a contented feline.  He plants tender kisses, chaste and moist along her nape and collar, sucking gently or pulsing his tongue against pressure points.    

Lucy can’t help it when her hips start to rock lightly, because while Natsu was behaving like a cat, she was starting to purr like one.  Those sultry vibrations were starting to break through his restraint like a domino set falling one by one.  “Luce,” he groans, “I won’t be able to finish your massage if you keep doing that.”

She reaches up and caresses his cheek, her voice full of amorous intent, “I feel a lot better now, so why don’t you finish me in another way?”  But she doesn’t give him a chance to respond.  Lucy turns around, spearing him a second time and claiming his lips to communicate, just how much  she wanted him to finish her.

Wow!  For someone who was dead tired just an hour ago she was just as hyped up as he had been!  Natsu grips onto her ass as he shifts them both until she’s on her back and he was missioned between her legs.  Her loose bun now unraveled fans out to create a golden halo around her face.  His eyes lower half-lidded, “my beautiful celestial queen.”

She giggles and wiggles her hips, “my handsome king of dragons.”

Natsu growls, the deep rumble permeating through Lucy’s very core.  “And this dragon is never gonna let you go.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smiles and leans down, supplanting words with passion-laden kisses that hold all the answers Lucy seeks. “I know I get on your nerves sometimes,” brushing his lips along her neck, “but if you’ll have me,” he lingers near her pulse point, “I’d love to make it more permanent.”

“Are you proposing…” she almost chokes on her words as his canines press into her delicate skin.

“Mmm,” he licks the area clean, “I guess you could call it a dragon’s proposal.”

Rolling her hips, “I’ll take you anyway I can Natsu.”

More light growls send heavenly quivers all over her body as Natsu continues caressing her nape with tantalizing kisses.  He grinds his pelvis against hers in undulating waves, short plunges to whet her entrance and build upon a delirious friction that was sure to wind her coil tight. She sway’s her hips, rocking them counter to his timing and their bodies flow into a rhythm just like a beautiful melody.  Her legs encircle and entwine themselves around his hips or thighs, back arching in time with the build of heat he was bringing to her junction box… and that heat was rising fast.

Slow and steady thrusts sunk deep into her channel with a skin to skin contact, rubbing her clit like kindling for her fires.  Lucy’s moans grow shaky, her pitch rising ever higher….  “Don’t stop….  Oh god….” Natsu continues his cadence, grinding over and over while Lucy rides out her orgasm.  

“Forever Luce…” he breathes out, “mine forever…” Natsu’s canines break through the skin to leave a permanent mark, his mark upon her neck just above the collar bone.  Lucy flinches, but strangely feels little discomfort.  He licks at the few droplets of blood, sealing the wounds.  

Maybe it was the heat or hormones, or maybe something more magical, she wondered, for a strange sensation flooded her being.  Purring out her yearning, “now, cum for me my dragon,” Lucy bucks hard against him.  

Natsu grins and shifts to a raised position on his haunches, with her legs over his arms, he holds onto her hip bones and drivers harder, faster into his new mate.  It was…  he couldn’t think of the right words as he watched his cock sliding into Lucy, just a feeling of contentment mixed with euphoria and absolute…  joy.  She was his, He was hers and nothing else mattered in that moment. Well except maybe the idea of one day filling her belly with his child, a wider smile surfaces, now that was a concept he’d never actually had before and yet now, as he gazes down at this celestial goddess.

He closes his eyes as the dam breaks, grunting and panting through the bursts of his seed flooding into Lucy…

After another quick shower for the both of them, Natsu cuddles Lucy into his arms, nestled amongst the downy blankets.  He kisses her temple gently, her eyes already shuttered and ready to sail off into dreamland. Tonight, may have started off with a fight, but it ended in the best make up anyone could have wished for.  

[codylabs]

Chapter 5

Mabel shone the beam from the laser pointer all around the floor. Juan chased it to and fro joyously, his saws scuffing up the floorboards whenever he thought he’d caught it. Always it eluded him, always it escaped him, always he gave chase. He was just like a cat. A heavy metal cat, but nonetheless just as smart, playful, energetic and eager. Mabel laughed at his antics.

When he finally got tired, Mabel turned the laser off, and sat down next to a wall outlet. Juan crawled up on her chest, and stuck his hooks into the socket beside her. A few sparks fizzled, and the robot relaxed.

Mabel petted him. He wasn’t quite as fun to pet as normal animals, since he wasn’t soft or furry in the least. But he was warm, and he was active and squirmy, and if she closed her eyes she could aaaaalmost imagine he was something nice to cuddle.

He finished recharging, and curled up in her lap. She petted his antennae, and they extended and retracted at her touch. His red eyes looked up and met hers, and for a moment, she felt they shared a deep, spiritual bond.

His claws plucked at her sweater as he stretched, and aperture-like eyelids twisted shut over his cameras. He wiggled around one more time to get comfortable, and then he was asleep.

Such a sweet thing.

Too bad she couldn’t talk to him. He spoke and heard in radio signals, and since she hadn’t figured out how to do that with her own body, she had to speak with the walkie talkie. She would listen in on his ‘distress signal’, and add words of her own onto the same frequency. She hoped he could hear her, and she hoped he understood that she was just trying to be friendly.

She pulled out her walkie talkie again now, and turned it over to his usual frequency.

But for some reason, the line was quiet. She cycled through all the other channels, but those were all quiet too. Mable frowned at the robot, and the realization slowly dawned on her.

Sometime in the last hour, Juan had stopped sending out his S.O.S.

He thinks I’m his mommy.

He’s happy here.

He loves me.

But it broke her heart. And she put her hands to her head, and her heart began to race, because another realization was close behind the first.

He doesn’t want his real mom anymore.

His real mom is looking for him, but now she’ll never find him.

I’m his mom now.

“Oh no…” She told the creature. “No… I can’t do that… I can’t keep you… This isn’t right for you… I’m not right for you… This…” She shook her head, and brushed aside a tear. “This was never what I wanted…”

Meanwhile, ten miles away, Dipper and Wendy ventured deeper into a hidden valley. And as they did so, they realized they’d stepped into a different world entirely.

“Okaaaay.” Wendy nodded. “We can tell them apart, at least. The trunks here aren’t bark-colored brown. They’re more like rust-colored brown. And the newer, smaller branches are totally grey.”

“Probably is rust. The newer shoots just haven’t had time to rust.”

“And, of course.” She added. “If we’re ever unsure, we can always just touch the leaves. If they feel like leaves, you’re good. But if they lay you open, chances are they belong to the robot trees.”

“Ha ha. Yeah.” Dipper laughed nervously. “Robot trees.” He echoed. He looked around him again, just to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. But he wasn’t. Before today, he never would have imagined using the words ‘robot’ and ‘tree’ in the same sentence, but there you have it. Those words had passed his lips. And as ridiculous at it sounded, it was nonetheless true. “Robot trees.” He repeated, and liked the sound of it. “I guess this is a thing now.”

“Man, you can smell it!” Wendy commented on the air. “Like oil, or the school’s metal shop after somebody’s been grinding… It’s not normal.”

“Yeah… Wow.”

“So how do we do this whole ‘science’ thing?” She asked, dragging them back to the mission. “I mean, we could just walk around, but shouldn’t we be doing… ‘Experiments’ or some junk?”

“Uh… I dunno…” Dipper bent over to examine a smallish sort of weed. “I guess we take pictures and stuff… And cram as many samples as we can into our backpacks.”

“Sounds good…” Wendy slipped on some gloves, grasped a tuft of grass, and pulled. And then she pulled some more. And then pulled some more. “Oh, okay, want to play it like that, do ya?” She grumbled at the plant. She pulled out an axe, and chopped it into the roots beneath her hand. The tuft finally came out with a snap. She shoved the plant into her backpack.

Dipper peered down at the hole where the grass had been. He poked his finger inside.

A tiny spark of electricity arced between his roots, directly through his finger. He yelped with pain, and brought back his hand.

“You okay? What got ya?”

“Oh, these… The roots zapped me. It must have its power cells down below ground. The panels charge up sun during the day, the batteries power it at night…”

“Wear gloves mate.”

“Yeah.”

This time he wasn’t zapped, and he brought out a handful of soil.

“Dirt?” Wendy frowned curiously.

“Soil.” He clarified, and he dumped the sample into a plastic bag. “Metal plants are growing out of this soil. That… Doesn’t happen. Ever. And that means this soil must be special.”

“Fair enough.”

He pulled out a disposable camera. Ford had suggested no electronics, but this model was so simple that it wouldn’t count. Nothing could detect this bad boy. Dipper took pictures of Wendy’s sample, his sample, and the hole they’d removed it from. Then they moved on.

Careful to dodge the leaves, they made their way up to the trunk of one of the larger trees. Wendy began tapping lightly on the surface with the back of her axe, looking for irregularities or hollow spots. The metallic clanking echoed through the silent forest.

Dipper was hit by a sudden sense of deja-vu, as he remembered his very first adventure in Gravity Falls. He’d found Ford’s hollow, fake metal tree, and a mechanism inside had opened the way to the journal. It was the thing that started it all. The one event that made the way for his entire life since. He took a minute to reflect. He… Or rather they… Had come so far since then. So very far. They knew so much, had done so much, conquered so much, become so much… It was amazing.

“Hey, this part sounds hollow.” Wendy remarked, and tapped again.

“Cool…” Dipper nodded. “Wonder what’s in there… Do we have a way to cut through?”

“Well… The trunk looks like it has a sort of grain to it, like regular wood. Maybe an axe will work?”

She took a swing at it, and made an impressively loud sound.

The axe didn’t work.

There was a dent in the tree, but there was also a dent in the axe.

“Awe…” She ran her finger along the defaced blade. Suddenly she laughed. “Look at me! I’m a scientist! Whacking a metal thing!”

Dipper laughed too. “Who’s the greater scientist? The scientist who whacks, or the scientist who watches whack?”

She groaned in mock-misery. “Waaaah… Why does science feel so much like the chain gang?” She struck the tree once more.

Then they heard movement inside the hollow spot, and took a step back. Something was alive in there. They could hear it scuttling around, clacking against the inside of the tree. Then the sound moved upwards through the trunk. Their eyes followed it up, and landed on a small hole, about 10 feet up. A tiny robot peeked its head out of this hole, and looked down at them with red eyes. It had a vaguely similar design to Juan, but with several different specializations. It was thinner than Juan, and longer, as if for fitting through tight spaces. And instead of buzzsaws, it had a system of small drill bits, which it spun at them in an angry, threatening sort of way.

“Guess we know what the hollow spot was.” Wendy observed.

“Robot squirrel.” Dipper smiled. He held up his camera and took another shot. “Cool.”

Irritated by the flash, the robot climbed out of its hole and up the tree away from them. It had long hooks on the ends of its legs, and a small sort of hollow cone where a tail would be.

As they watched, this cone began to emit a loud wining sound. Dust began to spray and billow around the animal. Then it let go of the tree, and hovered through the air off toward another tree. It grabbed onto a branch of the new tree, pulled itself up into a better position, and looked back at them.

“Robot rocket squirrel.” Wendy noted as Dipper snapped another picture.

“Just too cool.” He nodded.

They continued on.

“Hey, have you seen any other tracks recently? Any sign of the lion?”

“Naw, man. I can’t track anything here. Can’t make heads or tails of this grass, and all the tree roots just cover the mud and dirt.”

“All right.”

“Are you picking up any radio signals? Like Juan makes? Or from the decoy we put on her yesterday?”

“No, nothing from the decoy.” He said. “The tracker we put on her stopped transmitting sometime last night. I guess she found a way to get it off.”

“Dang it… Well, any signals at all?”

“Uh…” He turned on his walkie talkie briefly. It became to click and whistle with noise. There were hundreds of signals around here. All of them weak, quiet and brief. Like the chirping of crickets, or the singing of birds. Dipper realized this forest wasn’t silent. It was filled with life, but all of it was silent to human ears. He turned the device back off, and returned it to his vest. “Yeah. None as loud as Juan, but… Yeah. They’re there. And they’re everywhere. But they’re all so quiet that they’re undetectable from far away. Probably why we never detected this place before.”

“Huh. Say!” Wendy pointed ahead. “What’s that up there?”

She gestured toward a nearby stream. Bright, bulbous white flowers were growing all along its banks, some of them the height of trees.

“Woah. Giant flowers.”

“That’s science, right?”

“Yeah…” He approached the nearest one, and circled it slowly. Nothing much to see… But this plant didn’t have any leaves; no solar panels. All the other trees had solar panels. How was this one getting its energy?

He looked inside the bulb of the flower, and slowly put it together. Although they wide pedals were white on the outside, they were extremely shiny on the inside, like so many separate sections of a bowl-shaped mirror. And each one shared the exact same shape: that of a geometrically perfect paraboloid. And in the exact center of each ‘dish’, there was a tiny metal bud, attached to the wider stalk by what looked like tubes.

“Solar thermoelectric power.” Dipper nodded.

“A what now?” Wendy frowned.

“Instead of using plain old solar panels, like the trees do, these plants use the flowers.” Dipper explained. “The flowers are giant mirror dishes, and concentrate sunlight into those little buds. Those buds must have steam turbines or something inside them. The sunlight is all focused into the bud, that boils the steam, the steam spins the turbines, the turbines generate power, and that’s what powers the plant.”

“Woooooah…” Wendy scratched her head. “So ‘flower power’ is a real thing… I always thought those stupid hippies were insane…”

“Solar collection is actually much more efficient that normal photovoltaic systems.” Dipper continued. “It’s not used much in the human world because it’s so expensive to build, but these things just grow that way, so I guess expense isn’t an issue… And that’s probably why they only grow so near the creek. They pump up the water to refuel their turbines and dispose of waste heat.”

Wendy considered this.

“Is that why you were so tired this morning?”

“What?”

“You stayed up super late studying weird science.”

“Uh… Yeah. Why?”

“Okay… Hey wait a minute, why the heck were you studying thermoelectric solar power anyway? That’s such a randomly specific thing…”

“Well… I figured that these things would have to live without fuel, so I just started researching self-sustaining power, and clean energy… Parabolic solar collectors came up at some point so I read about them… And anyway, it came in handy, didn’t it?”

Wendy scratched her head. “Of all the millions of people in history who’ve ever gone out looking for trouble, only two of them have ever happened upon a thermoelectric solar flower. And one of those people just HAPPENED to thoroughly research that same thing the night before.”

“It… Seemed prudent.”

“Why are you wearing long pants instead of shorts today? As if you knew we would be walking through razor grass.”

“Well… You mentioned my… Habits… Yesterday… And it seemed… It seemed like a good idea?”

Wendy seemed suddenly suspicious for some reason.

“Dipper.” She asked. “Are you psychic?”

Why was she so suspicious? He went on the defensive. “No…”

“Do you have any psychic friends?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Is being psychic a thing?”

“Not that I know of…”

“Have you always been this randomly lucky?”

“Definitely not.”

“Do you consult oracles?”

“No.”

“Do you own a crystal ball?”

“No.”

“Does a future-Dipper travel back in time to give you advice?”

“What?? No…”

She gave him a hard stare. He frowned back at her, in a confused way. What was she thinking? What did it matter? What was going on? Did she seriously believe whatever that was? Why? Huh?

Then Wendy just smiled and shrugged. “Ah, never mind.” She turned back to the flowers. “Flower power. The hippies were right. Whatever we do, we can’t tell my dad about this. Got it?”

“Umm… Yeeeeeah… Got it.” Dipper yanked one of the smaller stems out of the streambed. It weighted about 3 pounds. Wow. He never thought he’d ever hold a 3-pound flower, but hey, there’s a first time for everything. He put it in his backpack. “This sample is Ford’s eyes only.”

Seeing as how there was less razor-grass in the water, they followed the creek up deeper into the woods. They kept a look out for lion-bot tracks, but nothing was visible.

Before long, a loud roar echoed through the trees. It was like the sound of a massive motor, grinding, tearing, ripping.

“Woah.” Wendy said. “Cliché giant monster sound. That might be our girl, huh?”

“She never made noise before… What was that?”

Now there was a new sound, the whizzing of small motors, and the scraping of metal-on-metal. The teens looked up to see several monkey-octopus-robots swing through the treetops above them, moving away from the cliché monster sound. Each one had a spherical torso about the size of a basketball. The torso had an eye on the top, another eye on bottom, and 5 long tentacles around the rim. They were using these tentacles in much the same way that normal monkeys use their arms. (Except, judging by the way they were swinging and flipping, they had very little concept of right-side-up and upside-down.) Dipper thought they looked strikingly like the evil robot from the movie ‘The Incredibles’ but he kept this to himself, as it would make him seem like a total dork.

One of the monkey-bots stopped to look down at them, and spun one of its claws in their direction. Dipper noticed it had smaller monkey-bots latched onto some recharge sockets between its arms. Nursing babies; Mabel would think that was adorable. The mother seemed to decide they weren’t a threat, and followed its companions off into the distance. Dipper took several pictures as they went.

“Good grief, they look just like the robot from ‘The Incredibles’.” Wendy frowned.

“You’re such a dork.” He replied.

“And among present company.” She retorted. “I need not feel ashamed.”

The monster noise sounded again, and they continued to follow it up the creek. They were moving even more carefully now, silent and alert. Eventually the noise was very near, just on the other side of the next thicket. They stopped and hid themselves to prepare. Dipper got his camera ready, Wendy took her axe out, and they both tightened the logging chaps on their arms.

“This could be it.” Dipper whispered.

“Don’t engage.” She reminded him. “Just take pictures. Be ready to run.”

“Yeah.”

They stepped quickly from behind the thicket. She leveled her weapon, he leveled his camera, and they both came into view of the sound’s source. And then they both frowned, disappointed.

An adorable little round robot had been cutting down a small tree. Now it paused in its work, and looked up at them. It had a flat paddle tail, little chubby legs, and a gigantic cutting blade built into the front of its head. The blade slowed down, and the noise died off. It tilted its head at them curiously.

“Aw man…” Wendy groaned. “All that noise! All that noise, and it turned out to just be a chainsaw beaver.”

“Come on!” Dipper sighed, taking a picture anyway. “Man, who knew?”

The chainsaw beaver cavorted back toward the creek, and disappeared beneath the water.

“Well.” Dipper shrugged, and noticed the tree the beaver had been chewing on. “Hey! At least we can get a picture of the inside of these trees. For science!”

“Yeh science!”

As it turned out, there wasn’t much for science to see. The trees had bark on the outside and growth rings in the middle, just like normal trees. The only really different part was all the pipes and wires, but even those weren’t all that surprising.

“This is boring.” Wendy decided, after Dipper took his 4th picture of the tree’s innards. “Let’s keep going. Gotta be more to see!”

They left the creek now, and steered into the trees. Toward what seemed like the center of the robot forest.

The trees were getting closer together now, and the grass was getting thicker. All the leaves were still razor sharp, so they proceeded ever more slowly and carefully. Dipper had taken the precaution of wearing long pants today, so his legs were mostly shielded. And the chainsaw chaps kept the worst of it off his arms. But he was still getting pricked and sliced, just a little bit, here and there. On his exposed hands, or through his socks, and even a couple times on his face. It was always just light brushes or pricks, but even that was enough to sting. Sometimes he would stumble or let his arms get clumsy, and a branch would contact his pants or chaps hard enough to pierce through. He would make a face, pull himself free, and soldier on.

Good grief, this was miserable! Dipper felt he was made of paper, walking through a world made of scissors and knives. Dying slowly and surely, just by walking. Once he wiped the sweat off his face, and there was traces of red among the moisture. He looked at Wendy. Her face had some slight damage as well, though he couldn’t tell about the rest of her body. Their eyes met, and they silently shared their misery.

This place wasn’t a good place.

This place wasn’t okay for people to live.

This place wasn’t suited for flesh.

Well, it explained one mystery at least: why they hadn’t seen any ordinary animals or birds around here. Everything soft that ventured in here carelessly (or without clothes) probably just DIED.

“When we come back tomorrow.” Dipper said. “We need football pads and helmets. And bigger boots.”

“We need something more like knight armor.” She agreed.

“And a diamond-tipped weed-eater.”

“Or a tank.”

“Or one of McGucket’s robots.”

Wendy thought about this. “Say.” She said. “Are we seriously coming back tomorrow?”

“Uh…”

“You have a hot date tomorrow, and I just need a day to rest and… You know, take a bath! Don’t want to go through this two days in a row…” She rolled back the chaps to show him the scratches and cuts on her arms. “Plus, dad wants me looking for a job and stuff…”

“Oh yeah… Yeah…” Dipper remembered his date. “I guess I probably shouldn’t show up to some fancy dinner looking like I got ambushed by a pencil sharpener…”

“Pacifica would NOT appreciate that.” Agreed Wendy.

“No, she would NOT.” Dipper glanced around. “Say, speaking of eating, you want to take a break somewhere?” Dipper asked. “Have some lunch?”

“Ugh.” Wendy nodded, and stopped walking. “Yeah actaully. I just need to sit down.”

They found a hollow trunk from some massive fallen tree, and Dipper ducked inside. Apparently, small animals or micro-organisms in this ecosystem found the inside easier to eat than the outside. Although the outer crust and bark was mostly intact, the inside had been cut completely away. A few small robot bugs scampered away as he crawled deeper.

The metal wasn’t particularly smooth, but it was sure better than the grass outside, so he got himself comfortable in the narrow space. Wendy ducked in after him, and took off her backpack. Dipper took off his hat and chainsaw chaps, and wiped his face with his shirt. All his tiny cuts stung as he did so, and he remembered not to wipe again. Now he removed a map and a sandwich from his pack, and leaned back against the metal to chew thoughtfully and inspect the map.

Wendy peaked over his shoulder at the map.

“We’re somewhere around here, right?” She pointed to some contours in the southeast.

“Yeah.” He made a small black mark at his best guess. “And the robot forest is… Well, we crossed in somewhere about here: the northwest border…” He drew a short line.

“Oh wow. We haven’t come very far have we? Maybe a half mile. How big is this forest anyway?”

“I’m not sure how far it extends south and east, but it can’t be much more than about 20 miles wide and 50 miles long, since there’s a highway over here, and the cliffs over here, and there’s hiking trails all along the cliffs…”

“Yeah…” Wendy nodded. “I’m thinking this place has to be pretty small, y’know, since nobody’s ever noticed it before. A couple miles at most.”

“Yeah, or very new…” Dipper began to chew his pencil. “Say, what if something we did caused the creation of this place? What if we… Released it from somewhere, somehow? What if it came in through Bill’s rift, or…”

“I doubt it. It doesn’t look new.” Wendy shrugged. “Some of these trees are dead, some of them have all fallen over, like this one, and… And most of these trees are gigantic! Just like the normal forest. How many growth rings did we see in that tree the beaver was sawing on?”

“Uh… 16, I think…”

“Yeah.” She said. “And that was a really small tree. So, assuming growth rings here mean the same thing they do in the normal forest, that means this place has to be a couple hundred years old at least… Right? Before the white man settled here, for sure…”

Dipper nodded, slowly, and chewed his pencil even harder.

“What if they’re not robot trees?” He asked. “What if they’re just normal trees… And normal mountain lions, squirrels, monkeys, and beavers, for that matter? What if there’s some virus that turns things into robots?!?”

Wendy’s eyes got wide. “Dude… We’d be infected then!”

“Oh dang!” Dipper looked at his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and blinked his eyes. Everything seemed normal… He stuck out his tongue. “Weny! Iz ma tug a saw yeh?”

She looked. “No. Not a saw yet. Show me your feet.” He took off his right shoe. “No.” She reassured him. “Not a tank track yet… Maybe it takes a while… Or starts on the inside and works its way out… Maybe you have a robot liver by now? How would we check?”

Dipper put his shoe back on. And then he put some serious thought into the virus theory. “No.” He finally answered, after a minute or two. “That can’t be it… A conversion virus doesn’t make sense…”

“Why not? There’s been weirder things.”

“Because… Because the creatures here are all made of straight-up metal.” He tapped the tree trunk next to his head, and the resounding clang proved his point. “But normal living bodies don’t have any metal in them, not more than a few grams at least… So we’d have to start eating metal, gorging on it, if we wanted to transform our bodies into that. And then, the only way we could actually chew or digest that metal is if we already had a body like that… So… So the conversion process can’t happen. It’s a chicken-and-egg sort of thing.”

Wendy thought about this. “So… I guess that begs another question: where’d all THIS metal come from anyway?” She asked. “This forest is made of metal, but where did it come from originally? There’s not that much metal in the ground, there’s just rock…”

“A lot of rock is actually aluminum by weight…”

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Well… You’ve held Juan, and those plants. They’re heavier than aluminum. Gotta be partially steel, at least.”

“Yeah…” Dipper scratched his head, and turned back to the map.

“Hey, what’s that big circle?” Wendy leaned over and pointed to a mile-wide disk he’d drawn on the map, centered around the hill above the town. “That’s the Weirdmageddon radius, isn’t it?”

“The Weirdmageddon radius was a little bigger. That’s actually…” He suddenly hesitated. That circle was the giant, buried alien spaceship. But should he tell her about that? Ford had definitely told him to keep it a close and guarded secret from anyone outside the inner circle… But then again, who would he ever trust more than Wendy? She would probably run across it on her own eventually… Right? It would be safest and best to tell her all about it up front…

That was when Dipper got a new idea: he wouldn’t tell Wendy about the UFO. He would show her. One of these days, he would show it.

But for now, he still had to tell her what the circle was. “That’s uh…” He decided on a half-truth. “That’s the epicenter.” He said. “The focal point of weirdness in Gravity Falls. Ford’s been studying the ‘weirdness magnetism effect’ of this place, and as it turns out, this place exerts a pull on anything unusual. Sometimes it manifests as a psychological pull, which is how six-fingered Ford and I guess Trembley found it. Sometimes it manifests as a literal magnetic force, as it was for ethereal beings like Bill and his goonies. And sometimes it’s just quantum probability. For instance, gnomes could theoretically live anywhere. But they’re very improbable, which makes them very probable to be here. And brain-switching carpets? Or eye bats? Those things probably don’t exist. So when they do exist, they probably exist here.”

“That probably makes sense.” Wendy joked. “And that circle is where it’s strongest?”

“Yeah.”

“Man. The town’s right on the edge of it.”

“Hence why we get mermaids, living video games, and ghosts popping up underfoot all the time.”

“Makes sense… Makes sense…” She turned back to her backpack, and began removing her lunch.

Dipper looked back at the map, and his eyes caught on the ship

Could the crashed UFO have anything to do with this robot forest?

It didn’t seem like it could. The forest didn’t start until about 12 miles south of the crash site’s furthest radius… If this was aliens, it would have to be a separate crash entirely…

Worth an investigation, anyway.

Wendy extended her hand with some food in it.

“Bacon?” She offered.

“Oh yeah! I could go for some bacon right now…” Dipper took a piece from her.

“Smoked sausage?”

“Oh… Sure.”

“How about some jerky?”

“Um… Did your dad pack you this lunch, by any chance?”

“What makes you say that?” She asked.

“Oh you know… It’s just your dad’s sort of… Style. I mean, meaty, high-protein everything… And this.” Dipper held up the package of jerky, with its ultra-manly mascot, and its ‘YOU’RE INADEQUATE’ slogan. “I haven’t seen anything less than a manotaur try to chew this brand.”

“It sure takes a mighty resolve, doesn’t it? Well, surprise! I packed this lunch! That’s just the Corduroy style, mate! Gotta keep your energy up, and keep your jaws strong.” She ripped open the bag of jerky, removed a stick, and tore off of a piece with her teeth. “And hey.” She continued with her mouth full. “Don’t be intimidated by a little bag of jerky, dude. I bet you can chew it. Take some.”

Her encouragement suddenly made Dipper feel very motivated to chew it. He took some from Wendy, bit off a huge piece, and he chewed it.

And he kept chewing it.

And he kept chewing it.

A minute later, he paused briefly, frowned, and kept chewing it.

And he kept chewing it.

About 5 minutes later, it was finally chewed, and he swallowed.

He rubbed his jaw, and stared down at the rest of the jerky. “I don’t… I don’t really want to do that again.” He decided out loud.

“Hmm.” She snickered. “5 minutes. Not bad.”

“’Not bad’…? What’s ‘good’, then?”

“I can chew it in 2 minutes. My brothers are between 3 and 6. My dad can do 45 seconds. I saw a manotaur do it in 5 seconds once, but I think he mostly swallowed it whole, and that’s totally cheating.”

“Oh totally. Those guys are bogus.” Dipper rubbed his jaw again. “So… I ate the jerky. Does that… Prove I’m manly, then?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “There’s better ways to measure manliness. Mayor Tyler, for instance, can giiiit, giiiit that jerky in about 4 minutes, and he ain’t no man. So…”

“What’s a better metric?” Dipper perked up. “Wrestling bears…? Jumping over cliffs…? Plunging your fist into holes filled with pain…?” (He had done all these things at some point, and thought he’d done all right.)

“Uh…” She frowned, and scratched her head. “That third one is super random, but yeah… That’s kind of the stuff my dad uses… But I’ve got another little method. A little more… Personal. You wanna try?”

“Okay!”

“Awesome. Do you have a spider phobia or anything?”

“Uh… Well, no not really… I mean kinda. Not as bad as some people, but I’m not a huge fan of spiders anyway…”

“Awesome!” She smiled. “Well then, if you wanna prove your manliness, would you go ahead and describe what you see?”

She turned around. When he saw what was on her back, Dipper gave a scream nothing short of girly. “AHH! UH. Yeah! Spiders!”

“Describe them.”

“Uh… There’s about, like, 7 maybe. They’re all about 4 inches across. They… Ooooh… Wow. They’re pretty spiky and… Wow. They’ve got drills and everything. You know what, until today, I wouldn’t have honestly believed that robots could look quite that scary.”

“Good to know.” She nodded, and began to hold perfectly still. “Now would you do me a solid and pick them off for me?”

“UHH?”

“Come on, I can’t see back there.” She hissed. “Grab them and pull them off. Be a man, man.”

“I’m not sure…”

“And they’re sharp little legs are starting to get on my nerves.”

“Uhh…”

“Literally on my nerves. As in past my skin, and down to my nerves. Come on man, you got this.”

Dipper summoned up every ounce of manly courage he had in his reserves, reached forward, and gripped one of the spiders by the thorax. It panicked, waved its drill around threateningly, and began to grip into Wendy’s skin with its legs.

“OW.” Wendy grimaced.

“Sorry!” Dipper stuttered. “Uh… I don’t want to hurt you…”

Wendy’s cool demeanor broke, just for a second. “Just yank it, wimp!”

He yanked it, hard.

It didn’t yank.

Instead, it dug in further. The skin on Wendy’s back stretched up in eight points as Dipper pulled, and each point began to bleed badly.

“OW!” She screeched, and doubled over in pain. Tears came to her eyes.

“UH!” As his heart thundered out of control, Dipper let go of the spider, and turned to his backpack. “SCREW MANLINESS! THIS IS GETTING DUMB!” He said, and pulled out the magnet gun. He flipped it to pulse. “Hold still!”

The gun hummed, and the spiders all convulsed violently. Their red eyes stopped glowing, their legs went limp, and then they were dead. Dipper picked them off one by one, and tossed them outside the log. The last one he removed was the one that had dug in. He had to manually unhook each of its legs, leaving a circle of 8 wounds on Wendy’s back. This one he didn’t toss. This one he smashed with the butt of the magnet gun, leaving its wreckage sparking on the bottom of the log.

They breathed a sigh of relief. Wendy’s breath sounded forced. Dipper had never seen her like this, in so much pain.

“Are you okay?” Dipper asked.

She turned back to him, and she had tears in her eyes. She stretched her back experimentally. “Uh…” Her voice was small and shaky. “I didn’t stay chill…” She muttered, ashamed.

“Oh man, oh man, I’m… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to yank it.”

She stretched some more, and grimaced. “Uh… No. You didn’t do ANYTHING wrong. I was the one who told you too… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay… I…”

“Dipper, no, I’m SORRY. I did WRONG. I made a fool of you, and made you hurt me on accident. And dude, that wasn’t a manliness test. Heck, far as I know, manliness CAN’T be measured! You know what that was?? That was me being dumb! I just wanted to tease you a little, and… And honestly, I kind of have a thing with spiders. So when you described them… I started to panic. Just wanted them gone. I did the worst possible thing I could have done, and I yelled at you, and made you panic… But you didn’t panic for long. You did all right. So here it is, honestly: I’m sorry.”

Dipper nodded, and held her eye. “I forgive you.”

“And finally: you’re not a wimp. You know that. I know that. We both know that. Don’t let anyone tell you different. But I forgot it for a second, and I made it sound like I meant it. I made it sound like I don’t respect you, even though I do. I’M SORRY.”

“And I said I forgive you.” He repeated plainly.

She held his eye for a minute, took a deep breath, and then smiled shyly. She picked up her backpack. “Let’s get back in the open.” She mumbled, and led the way out of the log.

Dipper cast another glance around the inside of the tree, looking for more sharp metal creepy-crawlies. Now that his eyes were adjusted for the darkness, he noticed a mean-looking centipede thing and a colony of shredder beetles (which he named himself based on what their mouths looked like.) Metal bugs seemed to be much larger than their normal counterparts.

He wasted very little time following Wendy out into the light. He picked up one of the dead spiders, and put it in his pack with the other samples. Then he shouldered the pack, tightened his chaps, and seated the hat more firmly on his head.

Wendy grimaced as she put her pack on over the spider cuts.

“Want me to carry your stuff…?” Dipper offered.

“Uh… I’ll be fine…”

They stood there for a moment, and Dipper began to have second thoughts about this mission. He looked left, toward the iron thicket ahead of them. He looked right, back the way they’d come. He looked at his camera, already full of amazing pictures. He looked at the cuts on his hands, still painful. And then he looked Wendy in the eye, and he could tell she was thinking all these same things.

“We need to go back.” She stated, matter-of-factly. “We’re getting cut, drilled, sliced, and stabbed. It ain’t getting easier to take, and it sure as heck ain’t stopping. We can’t survive here. We’re only human, and there’s only two of us. If we stay here any longer… If something bigger or sharper comes around… Something that’s actually trying to kill us… Nobody will know anything’s wrong until 6, when Thompson shows to pick us up and we’re not there… We’re not in a good spot. This wasn’t a good plan.”

It was then that Dipper understood: Wendy was afraid. He’d seen it before only rarely, but he recognized it now: she feared for their safety. She feared for their lives. And that made him afraid too.

“Yeah…” He agreed. “But we need to come back. Like we said earlier: armed to the teeth, and armored from head to toe. We’ll bring the equipment, and a plan, but we need to come back here.”

“Oh, of course! We will!” She promised. “Heck yes we will. But not now. Not until we have a plan. For now we need to get OUT.”

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

[artificialqueens]

Gold Dust Woman Ch. 3 (Shalaska) - Citrus

A/N: sorry for taking so long to update this, and i’m sorry it’s so short! i’m actually a lot further along than you’d think ;) special thanks to kacie (pureCAMP) for betaing!! <3

Once their stop came, Sharon led Alaska through the apartment building lobby and into the elevator, where they ascended to reach a long hallway. Stopping in front of an apartment numbered 441, the witch got out her keys and unlocked the door, pushing it open. “Take my hand,” she requested, holding it out to Alaska. The blonde took it tentatively, and Sharon pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them. “Sorry. Protection spells. Can’t remember if I made a barrier or not, but it’s touch activated ‘cause I’m lazy. As long as you’re touching me, you can get through.”

The interior was nowhere near as nondescript as the front door; from what Alaska could see, there were books and crystals strewn on almost every surface, and the smell of incense hung thickly in the air. None of those things surprised her; what surprised her was that Sharon’s apartment was big, much bigger than Alaska’s own. To be fair, Alaska worked at a minimum wage job and got bar gigs when she could, but still; Sharon’s apartment was nice, much nicer than Alaska could ever afford, but it was also homey and gave off a welcoming energy. She’d obviously gone to great lengths to make the space feel more natural and earthy, and by Alaska’s judgement she’d succeeded.

Sharon had put up tapestries over the walls– not the white-girl mandala ones you could get anywhere, but ones that depicted pentacles, the sun, the moon, crystal balls, and all sorts of symbols and pictures that Alaska didn’t recognize or understand. There were candles on almost every flat surface, all different shapes and sizes and colors, and jars the contents of which Alaska couldn’t even begin to identify. It was reminiscent of Dead Dandelion in terms of its dim, warmly-lit atmosphere and decor, but something about the apartment was much more authentically… Sharon.

“Your place is really cool,” Alaska mumbled, unsure of what else to say. Sharon grinned, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Aw, thanks, doll.” She dropped Alaska’s hand to scoop up the white-and-black cat rubbing at her legs, and Alaska recognized it as the same one that had been with her at the ren faire. “Hi, baby boy!” she cooed, scratching behind the cat’s ears and kissing the top of its head. “This is Cerrone,” she said to Alaska, cradling the animal in her arms. “He’s my familiar, he helps me with spellwork. Well, when he’s in the mood to.” She chuckled. “Most of the time he just sleeps or cuddles with me or yells for me to feed him.”

“He’s adorable,” Alaska smiled. Sharon kissed the top of Cerrone’s head again.

“Isn’t he just? Gods, I used to hate him, he was a scraggly stray before I took him in. I didn’t even want him to begin with, but he refused to leave and we ended up coming to an understanding, so I guess it was meant to happen.” Setting the cat down gently, Sharon took off her boots and looked in the direction of the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m good, thanks,” Alaska replied, taking off her own shoes and placing them neatly by the door. Sharon smiled at the conscientious gesture, but only when she was sure that Alaska couldn’t see.

“You’ll have to play your music for me sometime,” Sharon commented as she crossed the room to open a suitcase-shaped object. Alaska was unsurprised to see that it was a record player, but she found herself enjoying the aesthetic of it all as Sharon sat cross-legged on the floor, flicking through the albums.

“I’m really not that good,” Alaska protested, joining the witch on the floor.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Sharon waved her off.

Alaska laughed nervously. “No, really,” she insisted, “I don’t want you to have, like, high expectations of me.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s not a big deal. I bet you’re wonderful.” Choosing a record from the box, Sharon slid it out of its case and placed it on the table of the record player, guiding the needle into the grooves and flicking the on-switch. Music began playing quietly from the spinning record, getting increasingly louder as Sharon fiddled with the volume knob.

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn’t you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight, and who will be her lover? All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind, Would you stay if she promised to you heaven? Will you ever win?

“Fleetwood Mac?” Alaska laughed. “Really?”

Sharon raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong with Fleetwood Mac?”

Alaska shook her head, trying to stifle her giggles. “Nothing, nothing! It just doesn’t seem like you, y’know?”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I love Manson as much as the next girl, but I grew up on Stevie. I listen to it for the vibes.” Her emphasis on the word “vibes” was accompanied by spirit fingers and a teasing grin, and Alaska giggled.

“Sure, I get it,” she grinned. “Manson does seem more like you.”

“Yeah? You’re right, Lasky, I’ve been a fan since I was ten.”

“Wow, that’s… dedicated.”

“Was that a subtle dig at my age?” Sharon teased. Alaska tipped back her head and laughed freely.

“No!”

Sharon stood up, twirling as she did so and beckoning for Alaska to join her. “C’mon, dance with me. Music feeds the soul, you should know that more than anyone.” Alaska stumbled to her feet, taking the hand that Sharon offered and letting the witch spin her around.

“Do you do this often?” she asked as they danced, moving in time to the music.

“What, the dancing? Not as often as I’d like to,” Sharon said truthfully. “And I’m usually piss-drunk in a dark club when I get to have a pretty girl on my arm.” Her teasing smile made Alaska blush as the witch twirled her under her arm.

They danced to two or three songs on the record, twirling and laughing together as if they’d known one another for a lifetime. Sharon’s energy when she was in her own home was overwhelmingly content and joyful, so different from the mysterious and reserved personality she’d shown at the faire. She was remarkably sweet, teaching Alaska new dance moves and showing her how they could be used to cast spells. When Sharon placed her hands on her waist from behind to help her through the movements, Alaska completely forgot to concentrate on the dance, fixating on Sharon’s solid, guiding touch.

“Intention, Alaska,” the witch reminded her. “Think about what you’re trying to do, what you’re trying to accomplish.” Alaska nodded, letting Sharon guide her through the steps one more time before the blonde huffed in frustration.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she apologized. Sharon shrugged, slowing her movements to a gentle sway.

“That’s okay, honey, it’s not always easy. I just liked dancing with you.”

Alaska smiled. “Me too. It was really nice.” Sharon smiled as she continued to dance, replicating the complex pattern she’d been trying to teach Alaska, the steps coming naturally to her. Alaska watched as she finished her invisible circle and stood in the middle of it, a glowing ball of light appearing between her hands before seemingly being absorbed into her chest.

“Gods, I needed that,” Sharon grinned, shaking her hair out. Alaska gawked.

“What- how did you do that? Was that what magic looks like?”

“It’s not a regular effect of magic use,” Sharon said with a quiet chuckle. “Witches from magical bloodlines can do magic that most other witches can’t do. It’s exceptionally rare, but possible. Here, let me show you.” She offered her hands to Alaska, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Alaska sat down as well, taking Sharon’s hands cautiously. “Trust me, okay?”

Alaska nodded wordlessly, and Sharon closed her eyes. It only took a few moments for Alaska to feel the same warmth traveling through her body, but this time its source was the place where her hands connected with Sharon’s. She gasped softly, feeling inexplicably good. When she opened her eyes, there was a warm glow radiating from Alaska’s hands, and her whole body. Alaska’s eyes met Sharon’s, and the witch’s pupils were blown, her irises shining with the same golden light that radiated from Alaska’s body. The glow dulled in her eyes when they made eye contact, but the warmth in Alaska’s body remained even after Sharon pulled her hands away.

“That’s… amazing,” Alaska whispered, feeling inexplicably energized and calm at the same time.

“You like that?” Sharon chuckled, standing up. “Raja taught me how to do it.”

“If Raja taught you how to do that, I can’t wait to meet her,” Alaska grinned.

Sharon just laughed, getting up to snatch a large purple crystal off of a table. Collapsing back onto the floor, she held the crystal tightly against her chest for a few moments, silent except for her increasingly steady breathing. Alaska watched her, admiring the way her dark lashes fluttered and trying– and failing– not to pay too much attention to her lips. Looking up at Alaska suddenly, Sharon grinned. “You were staring at me,” she said simply, a reaction to Alaska’s look of surprise.

Alaska flushed deeply, her heart racing. “I- How did you-”

The witch chuckled. “I’m clairvoyant, Lasky. Surely you noticed by now?”

“Clairvoyant?”

“Well, only a little. Nothing like Max, she’s far better at seeing than I am. But I inherited my mother’s powers. I can see without seeing, darling, or rather I can sense. I don’t need to look at you to know where you’re looking, how your body is reacting… What you’re feeling…” Her voice was low, and Alaska flushed as Sharon’s blue eyes zeroed in on her and the witch gestured to her lap, putting the crystal aside. “Come here, baby,” she purred.

I’ve been searching for a pot of gold Like the kind you find at the end of the rainbow

Alaska climbed gently into her lap, trying her best not to hurt the witch. Sharon chuckled at her efforts, squeezing the soft flesh of Alaska’s thighs and making her squeal. She guided Alaska’s lips to her own with a steady hand on her cheek, kissing her softly. Alaska tangled her fingers in Sharon’s black curls, slipping her tongue between the witch’s parted lips and deepening the kiss.

I’ve been dreaming, thought it was in vain Ah, but now you’re here, can’t believe that you’re back again Now I know I can’t lose, as long as you follow

Alaska’s hips rocked against Sharon’s in time with the music echoing from the record player, and Sharon broke the kiss to lay Alaska on her back on the soft carpet. Sharon knelt between her thighs, kissing her lips again and sighing into the younger woman’s mouth as Alaska whimpered beneath her. Brown eyes fluttered open, making eye contact with Sharon’s and giving her a relaxed smile. Sharon smiled in return, pressing a kiss to Alaska’s temple before capturing her lips once more.

Now I know I can’t lose, as long as you follow I’m gonna win, I’m gonna beg, steal, or borrow As long as you follow

“Mm, Sharon,” Alaska whimpered as the witch kissed down her neck. “Please…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Sharon cooed in her ear. “We have all the time in the world.”

“What about your ritual?” Alaska remembered suddenly, breaking out of her haze. Sharon bolted up with a start, sitting on Alaska’s thighs and checking the time on her phone.

“Shit, you’re right. If I don’t leave right now I’m gonna be late.” She stood up, hurriedly smoothing down her hair and making sure her lipstick was intact. “I don’t suppose you wanna come?” she asked apologetically. Alaska laughed, letting Sharon pull her to her feet as well.

“Let’s go.”

[ladyhawk-s]

“Swing Baby Swing”

Relationships: Katsuki Bakugou/Ochako Uraraka, Bakugou Katsuki and Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou, (minor) Kirishima Eijirou/Mina Ashido

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou, Ochako Uraraka, Eijirou Kirishima, (minor) Mina Ashido

Rating: G

Word Count: 5823

Summary:  [1920s/Swing Dance AU] With others dancing around him, Katsuki falls into the trap of extras, questioning what makes it all special and worth it to them. That is until a girl comes up to him and shows him just a different side to world he was frowning on.

Author Notes: WOW OK THIS FIC TOOK ME FOREVER AND IT’S NOT EVEN GOOD BUT I PUT SO MUCH INTO IT SO I HAD TO SHARE IT. I was listening to a lot of electro swing and Kacchako was on my mind so....THATS WHERE THIS CAME FROM YAY! I tried to do as much research as I could and I know I didn’t really match up the lingo too much but PLEASE BEAR WITH ME ;.; I hope you guys like it! 

Read at AO3 ; Read at FF.net

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Diamonds dangled in a curved array of metal, creating diagonals and swirls as they twisted themselves to create an angelic chandelier that swayed under small breeze that whisped itself into the room. The glass reflected off each other, creating miniature rainbows that bounced off of the wooden dance floor that was already tainted with tracks and sweat as couples of all shapes and sizes intermingled in the fast past motions known as swing dance. Females’s back were dropped against men's’ arms as they felt the cold rush of gravity befall them before being torn back to the surface to begin pivoting on the balls of their heels. Jeers and cheers crushed themselves into the atmosphere and clicks of heels fell to the tempo of the saxophones that bellowed out their tune. It was rich and fulfilling and bodies of all kinds meshed together as they followed the beats the rhythms were resonating through the horns of the instruments. Smooth jazz and charisma came from the composers as their gruff vocal cords and strings flickered against each other to reach into people’s soul and cause their kicks to be amplified with each beat. Even those not having their movements be manipulated by the sound of music still bobbed their heads as they looked onwards the livelihood created in the ambience with straws of coke puckering their lips. From the bar, to the dancefloor, to the kitchen, to even the tables lined in a seperate area that wafted the smell of food in, this was the typical joint to be in with a starry sky that shined brightly under the crescent moon outside.

Seated at one of the rectangular tables in the separate room, Katsuki Bakugou and his trusted mate, Eijirou Kirishima, found themselves gorging on the food and alcohol that had been placed in front of them a mere few minutes ago. Well, more Eijirou than Katsuki himself. While the surrounding individuals silently chattered amongst themselves and shared soft giggles with each other, growls emerged from Eijirou’s throat as he ripped into the meat with his fangs, creating an animalistic look as his eyes deepened their red nature and swirled more in hunger as he continued to shove more down his throat. Even after a few bites, he would clutch onto the fragile glass cup a few inches away from him and leave tiny scratches as he brought the foaming liquid to his lips, allowing his irritated throat to sooth in its cool nature. This pattern repeated itself for a while, receiving looks from the people around them that signaled disgust for Eijirou and pity for Katsuki.

Which, Katsuki would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same way looking at his friend eating like a cannibal under the dim light. His upper lip curled upwards as hunger dissipated from his stomach and turned into a vapor that somehow Eijirou managed to absorb into himself. The sight was repulsive, unnecessary, and only garnered laughs from surrounding individuals, giving another reason on Katsuki’s long list on why coming tonight as a bad idea in his book.

After looking on for a small while, Katsuki’s irritation grew more under his skin and a click from tongue echoed in his mouth as he grabbed the abandoned menu next to him and smacked it on top of Eijirou’s head, knocking him back to reality. “Oi, stop eating like an animal. All the girls you claimed to be here for are giving you the look like you’re going to eat them instead.” Katsuki reprimanded Eijirou as he slanted his eyes towards him, lines creasing his face that came off to be more menacing than normal.

At the last bite, Eijirou harshly swallowed it down, slightly coughing afterwards as a smile began to line his face and a small hearty giggle erupted from his curved up lips. “Hey, c’mon Katsuki! Lighten up a bit, will ya? I’m sure it’s only your bitter attitude making you seeing that.” He laughed out, unbuttoning his collared shirt to let out the heat from his reddening chest to escape into the air and allowing cool air to seep in and absorb the small sweat he gained from his glazed food binge. Once he let go one more button that clearly showed the defining lines of his muscles, Eijirou began to truly feel the laughable breeze tickling the skin of his chest and the reddening cheeks that had begun to splotch over his face soon camouflaged itself back to his normal tone.

Scanning the area with his glossy eyes, he managed to find a few of the girls Katsuki managed to describe and sent a wink their way that kissed their cheeks and left them blushing messes that giggled within each other. One girl in particular had a style of spunk and seductiveness with how her short, pink hair curled into the sides of her face and she showed her leader status by placing her hand right on top of her lips and then pushing it outwards to him while puckering them to blow him a message. To mimic her story, Eijirou pretended to stare into space with an exaggerated thoughtful gaze until a small light glistened in his eyes and a large smile spread on his face as he slightly stood from his seat and over arched his arm to grab onto something stationed in the air so he smack it straight on his cheek. The girl saw this image and both of them shared a moment before she used her index finger to call him over and claim her fingers as his. “See, Katsuki, told you it was just your attitude. Now if you excuse me, I got a pretty lady to catch!” he said enthusiastically as he left his spot in a disastrous haze, rattling the chair with a caught foot as he hurried on over to the lady that stole his attention. Closing in on her, the same hand that beckoned him over received a tender kiss as Ejirou twisted their hands in unison and strung her along onto the dance floor, energy already prepping in their steps as they traveled to the arena.

At the sight of their love making eyes, Katsuki sneered with rolled eyes as he took another bite of the food in front of him, hunger slightly returning back to his stomach with Eijirou finally out of sight. With placing a piece of meat into his mouth, he found himself in a lonesome position and decided to look around, gauging the place he had to drag his feet to. His eyes focused in on the surrounding dresses and chandeliers and although the place was highly illuminated with little glass fixtures that reflected off of each other, Katsuki could only see a deepened grayscale that left a sense of hell within all the divided fixtures his eyes separated. After each bite, he could only find more reasons to detest giving the place the time of day, hell even the food wasn’t worth the money he could have saved with his own cooking. This place was meant for the conventionals and Katsuki was anything but conventional.

Gagging one last piece down his hoarse throat, he pushed the chair back, creating a screeching sound as he unleashed his entrapment. With his facial expression screaming to make a path for him, residents of the club steered clear of his way while clutching their parts close to each other to protect themselves from his acidic glare as he walked towards the back where the bar laid itself out. Seeing their attitudes made Katsuki smirk as he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out several coins, only commanding a small “Coca-cola.” as he twisted his body around to see if there were any last minute stares. Once the coast was clear of Katsuki’s version of vermin, he returned back to the bar to only be greeted with the specifics he had looked for. Muttering a small grace of gratitude, he snagged the glass from the shiny table and kept it close to him as he allowed his feet to travel to wherever they deemed fit.

Which so happened to be right in front of the dance floor where matches of females and males intermingled with each other as legs kicked upwards in twirls and smiles spread from cheek to cheek in a form of unison. In Katsuki’s eyes, everything was simplistic and easy, nothing of what they were doing was anything special or to brag about. Sure, it was physically demanding and caused pants with beaded sweat drops to trickle down their body once a resting period commenced but nothing about it was noteworthy or something to be remembered down in history. It was boring and useless and Katsuki couldn’t help but scowl at everyone in what they considered was enjoyment when he felt everything but.

“My, I guess you’re more of a people watcher than a dancer, huh?” A small voice giggled out as it appeared right behind Katsuki and slowly moved more into his hemisphere as it got closer and closer. The sudden shock left him losing some balance and the drink in his hand sloshed as he took a step forward and a twisted head back. Behind him was a petite girl with bobbed brown hair that had frontal tuffs curling into the round nature of her face. Her brown eyes glistened under the chandeliers and screamed innocence yet control. The dress she wore formed her figure in polka dots on a red background as it snugged onto her waist and then flourished outward in a ring of fabric. Her petite heels clicked on the hardened floor as she moved closer to him, reaching to touch his arm to only have been met by flinches and scowls. For a second or two, her hand was upright in the air with an unaccompanied shocked expression, but then a small smile appeared on her lips as she placed her hand on top of it and suppressed the small giggle that erupted from her ribs. “Well, it seems like you don’t like people either. Quite the strange place for you to be in, huh?” she asked in a curious tone, her cheeks illuminating the bright nature within her.

Katsuki side glanced her before clicking his tongue harshly, leaving a tch sound to escape his vocal cords as he stared off in the other direction with splotches of red appearing on his face. He wasn’t going to lie, this had been a first time a girl of her kind came up to him so casually and actually stayed in his presence. Most girls, even if they swallowed their fears and came up to him, would be turned off and swing away from his aggressive behavior but this girl, something about him made her stay and even smile at him and his brain couldn’t comprehend it. However, he determined it was too early to judge her behavior and he shoved his free hand into his pocket while continuing the guzzle the drink as it’s sweet flavors trickled down his throat. “You’re one to talk. You seem to like people, why aren’t you out there and dancing with the rest of them?” he bitterly spit out,his face crunching more into itself as his thin lips pouted more and his eyes slanted inwards.

“Well I definitely tried to but I haven’t found a right dance partner. Though…” she drifted off as she gave Katsuki a sly look before subtly grabbing his coy arm and linking with her own. “I think I may have just found one.”

It took a few seconds for Katsuki to realize what her words were implying and it took a few more for his mind to compute how to act towards this. A maddening blush escaped from underneath his skin and turned it weak in red. Everything began to stiffen up and his emotions were crawling up his back as phrases and sentences meshed together in a frenzy of embarrassment and (as Eijirou would use) unmanliness. “Whatwhatwhat!? Where the fuck are you getting that from!?” he cursed out, his tone pitched angry enough that it caused a few to turn their heads at the mention of uncleanliness.

However, instead of giving a look of disgust like the rest, his attitude only caused her laugh even more and have her voice create a melody against the notes of jazz playing. “Oh my gosh, you’re so funny! No you’re definitely the one, no doubt in my mind about that!” she chirped out as she rounded her arm against his linked one and swished to be in front of him, her smiling expression contrasting his retaliating one. “True you don’t really have a happy face, but you have a build for a swing dancer for sure! Your muscles are lean but strong and I’m sure you can get a few kicks with those runner like legs you have.” she beamed out as sparkles lined her face, convincing even more that Katsuki was the only one for her.

Katsuki could feel his heart skipping a few beats as he internalized her words, feeling flattered by the shower of compliments she had given him. Yet, the weak feeling that lowered his immune system made him feel disgusted by how gushy his insides turned and he could only retch out his feelings. “Eh? Those are qualities that even those other boneheads have too. Go flock to them and leave me be.”

The girl widened her eyes for a small bit before a wave of strength dictated her features. “True but….I feel like you have that extra spunk and fire that they don’t have. I bet you could make your movements more passionate if you really wanted to and really beat out all of the pros here.” At her competitive statement, Katsuki’s ears perked up, intriguing themselves to her statement. Though, before he could back himself up with a witty response, she interrupted him again, invading even more of his personal space by lightly placing the pads of her fingers on his chest. “My name is Ochako! What’s your name?” Ochako asked lightly, her round eyes widening in inquisitiveness towards the male in front of her.

Her touch contained a feel of acid and Katsuki knocked it away before she could melt more of his emotions and twist them around in the softening hands genetics gave her. “It’s Katsuki but I don’t see why that’s so fucking important to you Round Face when last time I checked, you were on your merry way to get fucked off.” Katsuki cursed at her, spitting obscenities that flung back the acid she had made him feel earlier.

Yet, she acted as if he was filled with sunshine and rainbows instead of bitterness as she embraced his words with a genuine smile that made her cheeks more rosy and colored under the luminescent light. His phrase didn’t bother her in the slightest and in fact, only pulled her in closer to the bubble that he surrounded himself in. “Well it’s nice to meet you Katsuki!” Tugging on their link of arms, she signaled to him the eagerness to join the other mingling bodies on the floor and to make their being known to the others. “You definitely should come dance with me! I promise it’ll be a lot more fun than just grumpily standing on the side while sipping your Coke and giving people mean stares!”

Before, at least she could get away with the cute and round features of her face but this determined and forward attitude of hers was beginning to get under his skin slightly and it seemed as if no didn’t fit in her vocabulary. “What part of no means fucking nothing to you? Whatever is going out there is shitty and boring and I’m not about to mingle myself with a bunch of losers that find acting like pansies to be a form of fucking enjoyment.” Katsuki stormed off, hoping it would loosen her grip on his forearm and sulk her way to a boy with maybe frizzy hair and unkempt hygiene that would grip onto her better.

For a couple seconds, it seemed as if the plan Katsuki had formed was the one that was going into effect until her demeanor switched once more, catching him off guard. Widening her grin, she left go of Katsuki as she snatched away his quasi finished drink and placed on a nearby waiter’s dish. Ignoring his comments of disapproval, she grabbed onto his liberated hand and pulled him along with her, interweaving into the crowd of people “I’m sure you’re only grumpy because you’ve never done it before! You’re going to love it once you give it a shot!” she called out to him, her pitch soaring above the sounds of others that made herself more clear under the sea of people.

Her ferocious attitude only made him string along a bunch of curse words that welded perfectly into a sentence but his thoughts were immediately cut off by her rapid swing to bring them into a position and from the minute he truly gazed into her eyes, he found himself lost in a sea of dance that had stars twirling around them as his feet were being strung along by her commands. Any twist or turn she made, his body would follow suit, matching up to the rapid tempo she exhibited. Even though this mysterious girl that he met 5 seconds ago had the audacity to pull him into this trance, he could feel himself getting into an euphoric high with her and they complimented each other’s voyages as their bodies flourished into a unified wind gust that soared throughout the floor. Their harshening steps clicked against the wooden floor as their tempo increased with the crescendos the saxophones shared.

“See! I knew you’d be amazing at this!” she praised out with her words being chopped off by heavy pants as she gravitated closer to Katsuki so their chests would mesh together as they weaved around the curves of their body.

Katsuki, admittedly embarrassed by her words, shifted his pupils off to the side for a few moments as his upper lip curled back to its customary position. “Shut up Round Face.” he muttered behind his gritted teeth, his asperity showing at full force as he tried to camouflage the blush that was spreading at full force.

Which, instead of flinching at his attitude and sneering away from it, his endearing nickname and flustered face only made the girl clutch onto him tighter, her hands sewing into his with her body threading against his. “My name is Ochako and you are really amazing! I could dance with you all night!” she corrected meddled in a sea of praise as she gave a satisfied giggle, her rosy cheeks illuminating under the sparks he exhaled.

The blush he had tried to suppress soared back in full force and his teeth gritted against each other as words formulated in his diaphragm, trying to find the voice to say them. Different phrases were teased with his vocal cords, some more on the pleasant end with gentlemanly convictions and sweet language while others were mean and disgusting, making him come off as a sailor that just docked on the shore recently. His mind fired the cells to get him to use the former phrases but with his erratic and nervous behavior, the latter is what ended up spewing out, spitting out a form of acid that lingered on her aura. “Well I hope a new guy comes along because this is shit.” he growled out, though his eyes revealed the hypocrisy within his words as he continued to lung into action with her, occasionally extending her outwards and then twisting her back into his arms where they would resume their quick footed steps.

While normal girls would have rolled their eyes in their sockets and leave a tattoo of red from their palms, Ochako was different and shaped her teeth into a giddy smile as the gloss on her lips sparkled against her face. Her hands curled around his own even more, feeling the stark difference between her soft and delicate hands against his calloused and roughened ones. “I think I’m good with you. I’m actually am working up a sweat with you which is something I can’t say about others. Plus…” she drolled out, her eyes turned sly as she shoved her face close to Katsuki’s face, reading all the stories his creases told. “I can definitely tell you’re liking it!”

“What!? The fuck!? No I’m not-”

“There’s no need to lie about it! I can totally tell!” she gleamed out as she let go one hand and poked at one of the dimple that left a small dent by the corner of his mouth. “You’re definitely having fun! I can see it from the smile you’re giving.” Ochako chirped out as she tangled her hand with his again and continued to string him along, enjoying the heated dance they were engaging in.

Though, her enjoyment made her completely oblivious to the widened eyes Katsuki sported on his face, his irises dilating inwards as shock of reality electrified him and shook him in his core. This had been a first time that someone looked past the outer shell that had carvings of his intense features and saw the softening insides that filled his hollowness. And it didn’t help that she had the power yank a smile out of him that fell under his radar and temporarily steal his consciousness for a bit.

Katsuki’s mouth was left a jar for a few seconds, completely iced in a gaping position and they were beginning to press into each other to swallow the saliva holding back from speaking when Ochako interjected and replaced his words with her own. “We’ve even gotten a lot of eyes towards us.” she whispered to him, prompting Katsuki to twist his neck slightly away from her and notice the eyes that latched onto their backs. Yet the stares weren’t like the ones he usually got, in fact, it was as if they twisted completely 180 degrees. They were filled with admiration and a sense of jealousy as they wished they could rip their shoes away and place themselves in it. Their smiles had a veil of control as the duo’s movements controlled where their irises would be placed and how fast the tempo of the hand claps would go.

It felt surreal and everything became a blurry mesh as Katsuki got lost in the crowd, his chest beginning to become warm and friction happening between his skin and fabric as his eyes shifted everywhere. With the more swipes he was making, the more a fire was beginning to ignite in his core and it fueled the flames of his confidence and arrogant competitiveness as a carnivorous grin twitched itself to the surface, creating a demonic aura around him. His head finally whipped back to her and the tips only creased more upwards into his dimples as he crushed her hands into his. “Well, what do you say about giving these shit stains a show, Round Face?” he muttered to her, his voice cracking under the bursting flames that ran dormant in his chest.

To Katsuki’s amusement, Ochako took herself back for a second before matching to his expression, though she contained a more vibe of determination and vitality than the crimson fire that crisped in her partner’s eyes. “Mmmhhhmm! Let’s do it!” She sharply nodded back, creating a tension of boldness that could be felt from vibrations that tingled out of the paws of her fingers.

And without a doubt, the minute their mutual understanding arose to the surface, their steps began to fasten and glide through the wooden floor as a quickening tempo could be heard from the bottom of their feet.

As more and more eyes landed on them, the duo could feel the pressure beating down their backs while their legs carried on with the tempo of the handclaps that began to form. Space liberated for them as they crosshatched their steps, their hips swinging to the velocity of the saxophone. Ferociously making sure their fingers stayed in their alliance, Ochako kicked her feet backwards, moving her body to follow their arms extended fully outwards, locking their elbows in place before bringing them back in. Repeats of this move happened a number of times until Katsuki switched it up and allowed only one arm to extend outwards with Ochako before spinning her into his arm. The minute he could feel her chest pressed against his, his liberated hand encased itself at the small of her back and lifted her from the ground, first cradling her in a princess position before whipping her to rotate on his back. It was the beginnings of acrobatic arts that only the toughest could pull and toes lightly touching the ground indicated the prosperous outcome that befell on them. With the night continuing on and on, Katsuki and Ochako only pushed themselves more in the feat of dance, causing inspiration to spark in others as they attempted the moves they did. Though, as much as the others tried to copy, their energy all got seeped into the chaotic good duo as they continued to lock and bend their elbows as they brought each other in and out. Moves of spinning around Katsuki’s muscular body frequented their style and it left both in smiles that had them gasping in laughter with their experiments on twists and turns.

As each song passed, the clock on the wall passed as well and the last song bellowed out it symphonies as they ended with a chime of a bell to indicate the closing. Boos and disappointment could be heard within the crowd, even daggers sent by Katsuki’s eyes were digging themselves into the band to make them continue on with the show. However, with a squeeze on his hand and a resting touch on his arm, the nod of command Ochako gave made him succumb to her wishes and Katsuki gave out one last gruff as he exited with her.

Hand in hand, the duo left the rustic building, sweat dripping down the sides of their faces as amassed themselves with the crowd that was slowly heading out into the street. Heavy pants escaped their chapped lips as they stared at the blurry backs of participants and everyone’s laughter felt like they were submerged underwater as it felt gargled in their ear drums.

Soon though, they could feel the cold breeze whipped against their skin and a dark night overlooked them with bulbed lights that latched onto them like comfortable blankets. The ignited fires from earlier began to die down, leaving only slight sparks electrifying their pores as the frigid air frictioned against the heat. Ochako’s drooped head suddenly brought itself back and she inhaled the crystallized air into her lungs, icicles forming on the insides of her tissues that had her temperature lowering in degrees. Veering her eyes towards Katsuki, she gave him a narrow smile that had breaths disrupting the curves her lips were formed in. “Tonight was definitely a lot of fun.” Ochako managed to pant out as she tightened her hold onto Katsuki.

With his breaths matching hers, it took him a couple seconds longer to be able to move his focus onto her and he could feel his lungs hitching as he saw her glimmering face against the deepened lights above them. Even though sweat was amassed by her face and her features lingered more downwards than normal with creases aging, her angelic features still outshined the rest and it dazzled the irises located deep within his sphere. No matter how she was twisted or turned, she was still a diamond that somehow revealed herself to Katsuki and small piece of his heart clenched in the gratitude that out of all the men she could have approached, it was his arm that she pulled out along with hers onto the floor. It was their heels that clicked together, their bodies that twirled around each other, their breaths that got mixed in a tornado of serendipity, their eyes that sparked between them as they created tread marks that left traces of their work for generations to see. Tonight they created history that would linger into the minds of everyone who set eyes on them. However, even though gratitude and enjoyment wanted to escape and mix with her euphoric semblance, it was as if Katsuki felt a fuse short circuit in jitters and explosions bubbled in his core, allowing his mouth to ramble on and on. “Yea, maybe for you and the other fucking extras here. But you’re going to have to drag my fucking corpse to get me to step another foot in this shit hole.” He grumbled towards her as his hand found a void in his pocket and dug itself deeper in, allowing his delinquent attitude to be seen in the redness of cheeks covered in sweat.

Silence of their voices overtook them a bit as surrounding traffic noises and hearty breaths covered them in a blanket of white noise. There was a small inch of astriction that hung between them and slowly, the velvet from Ochako’s hand slowly became a foreign concept as her fingers liberated from his. Recoiling from that sudden motion, Katsuki’s features creased together as his nose scrunched up in familiar apprehension, animosity resurfacing back from the past. Weakness began to fill behind his eyes, making him needing to divert them before he allowed her to see that. He had thought she maybe had been different, special even, maybe someone could read past him and understand his mannerisms but she was just like the rest of the extras in the world. She had merely used him as a pawn and that attention seeking aspect of him sought after it like a child and it only made him bitter that he allowed her to get under him like that and rip out his skin and toss it out like-

“You know, you don’t always have to act like a tough guy all the time. It’s ok to admit you had fun once in awhile!” Ochako spoke out, shattering Katsuki’s thought trail with her sunshine filled hammer. Intrusiveness crawled in his mentality and it only intensified when he felt the soft return of her fingers lingered on his, though this time, a piece of paper pressed against his palm, causing an immediate contraction to secure the contents. Moving his head to scope out the foreign object, his cheek was greeted with a kiss that caressed by her lips. His cells sensed the glowing and candied essence of her lips and the hinges of his jaw metaphorically broke as his jaw began to sling downwards in a jolt of electric love that radiated when she amplified it by surrounding his fist with the cushions of her fingers. Slowly, Ochako freed herself from his skin and allowed the red on her face to deepen as dimples accompanied the lustrous smile that formed against her teeth. “I really hope to see you again! Maybe if you free next week too, we can meet again.” Leaving one last trace of her mystifying stroke that laid idle on his arm, she swiveled away from him, her polka dress matching her circular motions as it traced along her as heels snapped her exit.

With Katsuki’s hand crawling up to delicately touch the relics of her kiss, he watched her gracefully walk away, her legs picking up as if she was skipping in excitement and exburencence. When he saw her introduce herself to the interiors of the bus that rolled in, sensibility popped back to him and his gaze lowered down as his fingers unraveled the crumpled note left in his fist. Exposing it contents revealed a small rectangular strip of paper that filled the blank spaces with her cursive writing that spelled “Ms. Ochako Uraraka aka Round Face :)” and right below that followed a series of numbers that could be interpreted to be a telephone line of communication to get access to her.

Katsuki, not aware of what any of this meant or even how to react to this sudden bold move done by a female (usually it was done the other way around), left him lost and confused for a temporary moment as he stared at her dissipating figure. Time slowed down as smears from his peripheral zoomed past him while his corpse stayed stagnant and frozen from the magic of Ochako’s presence. It took the hand of Eijirou slamming down on his shoulder and his rumblings of laughter to jolt Katsuki back to the present moment where he could feel the balance against the balls of his feet.

“Hey buddy! Sorry for ditching ya back there! Seemed as if you had a lot of fun.” Eijirou rolled into his ear, commenting on the dancing he saw Katsuki partake in earlier, before his gaze turned to the crumpled mess that formed itself against Katsuki’s palm. “And that maybe you go lucky?” he sneered as he jabbed Katsuki’s side with his pointy elbow, finally showing his wingman qualities at the last minute.

At the word “lucky”, Katsuki’s ears and nose released a comical and metaphorical steam that expressed the release of bashfulness from the lewd images that had crossed his mindi. All of it involved Ochako and pivots around him as the buttons in front slowly came undone with each arch her back subjected itself to. Needing to compose himself the suppress the thoughts of the girl that stole his dignity together, Eijirou was greeted with mumblings of how the place was terrible, the food seemed like it forgotten it’s expiration date, and even how the people seemed mindless and only knew one side of the dimension. Yet, all these complaints seemed to go against his true feelings as he kept twisting and turning the paper within his fingers in hope that the numbers who sprout out and give him the clear message that he needed to call her.

Muddling out Eijirou’s teasing and cheery attitude, Katsuki flickered his eyes once more towards the inked numbers before thrusting his buddy from his proximity and walking the opposite direction. With cramming his fists again in their natural position within his pockets, he picked up his feet in exaggerated trudges to give the image of bitterness that was tanged with saltiness as he muddled curse words and distasteful phrases. Yet, even though his exterior screamed fire and disdain, if one looked closer, under the fabric of his pocket, the veins on his hands protruded out as he clutched onto the note harder, creating moon shapes with his nails as a maddening love arrows began to stab into his back, indicating love at first dance.

[stydiasecretsanta]

Summer Last

He ran out the next morning, and Lydia thought her summer fling would be just that - a summer fling. Then the boy tried to contact her by going on the Ellen show to tell the world about their tryst.

For Jenn (@stilinskikissme​) - Happy holidays Jenn! You keep my feed full with stydia gifs so I never starve. Hope this fic satisfies you the same way.

“Not your cup of tea?”

Lydia turned her head and quickly found the owner of the voice. She raised her eyebrows, mildly surprised to find someone who looked her age at this event. He was tall, lanky, eating with his hand. His plate was piled with all the snacks the buffet table had to offer - cookies, fruit tarts, spring rolls, you name it. She figured he must have had some sushi too; fat grains of rice clung to his noticeably long fingers.

She gave him a noncommittal shrug. “I’m more into the molecular side of biology, but it’s fairly interesting, I guess. I just haven’t had the best day, and someone was supposed to be here with me, but well…”

She waved her arm at the space next to her. The boy nodded, his whole head rocking back on forth on his head.

“Yeah, I get it. I was dragged here by my best friend, who is now networking with one of the presenters.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I think he’s way too excited to start college. He’s in pre-vet. He loves animals.”

He picked up a mini tart after he spoke and shoved it into his mouth, sucking his fingers off as he did so. Lydia’s eyes were inexplicably drawn to the action, his moving pink lips, his long, slender fingers.

Was it just the tungsten lighting? She had never seen lips so naturally pink in her life.

She swallowed, half-mortified by her sudden train of thought, and chose to pick at her own plate of buffet food. Namely, softshell crab handrolls. (Kind of ironic that they were serving seafood at a symposium about marine wildlife conservation.)

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the boy watching her. She turned to face him, questioning brow raised, but he simply grinned casually and bit off half a spring roll. The movement brought Lydia’s attention to his mouth again.

“So, you two just finished high school, I assume?” she asked, forcing herself to think about something else. School was a safe topic. She loved school. She could go on and on about academics.

The boy nodded his head vigorously. “Yep. You too?”

Lydia puffed out her chest. “Yes. Well, I could have graduated early, but I stayed on to be with my best friend.”

The boy raised his eyebrows in appreciation. “I get that. I could never leave Scott - my friend - not that I was smart enough to graduate early, though. That’s amazing. So, you took college credits throughout last semester?”

“Last year,” Lydia corrected, revelling at the way the boy’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, the way his jaw dropped in awe. “Enough to matriculate as a junior.”

She preened as he gaped at her. No one had really reacted to her intelligence this way before. Lydia decided she quite enjoyed it.

“Wow,” he finally managed. “Which school?”

Lydia smirked. “MIT”

“Holy sh- how do you even do that?” he asked, waving his arms and surprisingly not sending any food flying all over the place. “Oh my god. I’m standing in front of an actual genius. So, are you gonna win the Nobel prize someday?”

“Fields medal,” she told him. “I’m studying mathematics. But I might pick up bioengineering too.”

“Wow,” the boy repeated, running a hand through his short hair to express his disbelief. “And here I am, a lowly criminology major.”

Now it was Lydia’s turn to raise her brows.

“That’s nothing to snuff about,” she told him. “It’s important to society. Personally, I find the forensics aspects very interesting.”

“Thanks. And yeah, ‘cause you’re a genius,” he replied through a mouthful. Lydia watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Forensics is cool,” he babbled, “but I think I’d lose my mind sitting in a lab everyday. I’ve had a string of terrible experiences in science labs. Spilled some hazmat once. Left the gas valves on. Eroded the edge of a bench because I was reacting random chemicals off it. My chemistry teacher hated me, although he later turned out to be complicit in arson so he could have always just been evil…am I talking too much? I’m talking too much. I’ll shut up now.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly watching for her reaction. Then his whole body twitched, as if a thought literally jolted him, and he offered his hand.

“I’m Stiles, by the way.”

“Stiles?”

Lydia hadn’t meant to sound rude. Fortunately, the boy merely chuckled, unfazed by her reaction.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. It’s a nickname, and trust me, it is a lot easier to say than my real name,” he explained.

Lydia shook his hand.

“Well, Stiles, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lydia.”

“Lydia,” he breathed. “That’s a nice name.”

“Thanks.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

No one knows how long they stood there, hands clasped between them, eyes locked on each other’s, but it was only when Stiles’ body twitched again, breaking the moment, did Lydia realise what they had just shared.

“Hey, um, do you wanna go for a walk?” Stiles jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards the waning light outside.

Lydia looked over her shoulder, eyes sweeping the longhouse one last time. None of the posters fascinated her more than the boy next to her, so she shrugged her shoulders and raised her plate to him.

“Sure, just let me finish this.”

Stiles looked down at his own plate, as if just remembering all the food he had piled on it. “Oh, right.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Stiles was good to talk to. That is, when he didn’t go off long, unrelated tangents. Like when Lydia explained that Allison wanted to go for a run and so didn’t accompany her to the symposium, he launched into an account of all his Most Tragic Accidents playing lacrosse.

“Scott was always the athletic one, even with his asthma,” he told her. “He because co-captain in sophomore year. Then the other captain moved to London - not that he was missed, he was a total dick - and Scott reigned under graduation. I remember summer the summer before he became co-captain, he trained super hard for it. He blew me off so many times to practice. I kept trying to make him watch Star Wars.”

“You know he hasn’t watched Star Wars? Like at all?” Stiles was saying now. “He doesn’t even know who Darth Vader is. So many jokes have been wasted on him. I had to watch The Force Awakens alone…”

He launched into a theory about Rey’s parentage.

He had already told her all about werewolf folklore as well as human sacrifices throughout history.

Lydia had to admit, he actually was smart. Before long, he had moved on from Rey and engaged Lydia in a discussion about how gravity worked on the Death Star. And there was actual physics involved.

“You’re so freaking smart, you know?” he told her, when they sat down on a rock outcrop. Lydia couldn’t believe she actually spent energy talking about Star Wars.

She cocked her head. “I thought that was established.”

Stiles gestured a hand at her. “Yeah, but you’re like, IQ 174 and beautiful.”

He remembered the exact number. He called her beautiful. Lydia felt her cheeks heat up. The sun was only just starting to set due to the season. She wondered she was as red as the sky. She wondered if Stiles could see her blush.

“Really?” She asked, keeping her eyes on his face.

In the golden light, Stiles’ eyes were like pools of honey with a mysterious light glowing within, and they were trained on her when he answered.

“Really.”

The hand that had gestured up and down her body reached out again, and for a moment Lydia anticipated the feel of his palm against her cheek. But then he dropped his arm, drummed his fingers on the rock next to his lap instead.

Before she knew it, Lydia was covering his hand with hers, stilling his fidgety movement.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she told him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe it was the way the long rays of sunlight cast on the sand. Maybe it was the connection they felt as two smart individuals drawn to each other’s intelligence. Maybe it was the way Stiles treated her. He’d held her hand and called her beautiful.

Whatever it was, Lydia suddenly felt the need to kiss him, so she leaned in. She saw Stiles mirroring her actions right before her eyes fluttered shut. His nose brushing against hers was her only warning before their lips collided.

Warm. Stiles’ mouth was so warm. His lips were soft, just like the rest of him. One of her hands had found purchase on his upper arm, his curling behind her neck carefully as his lips moved oh so slowly over hers, giving her time to adjust. In return, Lydia tilted her head and pursed her lips further, free hand moving into his hair to pull him closer to her, deepening the kiss.

They broke apart when they heard a dog barking. Not five seconds later, a man and his terrier ran past. Lydia cleared her throat. Stiles was looking at his lap, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lydia had dated before, but she had never taken to someone so fast. She always played hard to get, made the boys come after her for a week at least, teasing them, before she’d give in and let the fun begin. Yet here she was, with a boy she made out with within a day of meeting him, and she wanted more.

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?” she asked, heart pounding.

Stiles’s head snapped up to look at her. “I, uh, um, I don’t really know…”

Her heart faltered.

“I mean, I’d like to, if you want, but I don’t know any places since me and my friend are sharing a room, and a bed, because they ran out of rooms with two singles so…”

Lydia nearly laughed in relief.

“My friend and I are in my family’s beach house, where I have my own room,” she told him, grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

They managed to walk side by side, all the way back to the beach house that Lydia’s family owned. The moment she shut the front door, Stiles’ hands were all over her.

“A-Allison could be h-here,” Lydia stuttered as he smothered her face with kisses.

“She’s not,” Stiles replied. “You said you two haven’t unpacked, and I don’t see any extra pair of running shoes anywhere.”

His open mouth painted a hot line down her neck.

“What are you, a detective?” Lydia panted. She arched as one of Stiles’ large hands pressed into her small back, pressed her chest against his as he started sucking on her collarbone, his other hand supporting the back of her neck. He was clever, handsome, and pulling her into him. She loved it.

Stiles hummed into her skin. “Mmhmm, aspiring cop, actually.”

“Criminology,” Lydia recalled. “That is so hot.”

She felt rather than heard his chuckle, reverberating through his body.

“Not as hot as you, Miss MIT.”

She slammed her lips into his. The momentum sent both of them towards the staircase, just what she wanted.

“Take me upstairs,” she ordered.

Stiles moaned in acknowledgement.

Lydia wasn’t sure what she was expecting. She had not specifically thought about Stiles sweeping her off her feet and carrying her up the stairs, but she hadn’t really thought that they would stumble their way up together, Stiles a step ahead of her. When they approached the top, Stiles bounded to the top of the landing. He somehow managed to keep holding her hand, long arm outstretched, giving Lydia a good view of his sinewy forearms, lightly dusted with hair. He pulled her up the last few steps and laughed when she tumbled into him, sending them crashing into the wall. Lydia used her lips to shut him up.

His mouth was better at other things anyway.

By the time they made it into her room, Lydia’s hands were running up and down Stiles’ arms, while Stiles’ had crept under her shirt. He tried to take it off as they fell onto the bed, but it got caught as she tried to loop her arms around his neck. This time, they both laughed.

Lydia removed the piece of clothing and gave Stiles a coy smile. “Your turn.”

It took him a while to comply, his eyes slowly taking in her body, her bare skin. His mouth was gaping like it had right before he called her a genius. But then he was pulling his shirt over his head, and Lydia found herself reacting similarly.

She’d seen model-worthy bodies before, chiseled abs and bulging muscles. Stiles looked nothing like that, but Lydia had never been so in awe. He was lean but toned, with nice broad shoulders and the slightest definition of muscle. Moles, scattered all over, stood out against his pale skin, as did the dark trail leading into his pants. It was there Lydia placed her hand, spreading her fingers out against his skin, and smiled when she heard Stiles’ intake of breath.

She slowly slid her hand up, up, over his stomach and chest, until finally she found her way behind his neck to pull him to her. When their lips met this time it was slower, sweeter. They kissed as if they had all the time in the world to explore each other’s mouths. Lydia untucked her legs from underneath her and leaned back. Stiles caught on and braced one arm against the bed, the other wrapping around her slim waist.

Lydia sighed as her back softly settled onto the mattress. Stiles moved away from her lips and started kissing a trail down her body. Lydia’s back arched as he went. She felt his lips linger right above the waistband of her skirt, felt his hands start to caress her thighs just above the knee. She sighed in anticipation, eyelids fluttering shut. But then she didn’t sense any more movement from Stiles.

Pushing herself up, Lydia found his eyes on her, watching, waiting.

“Can I - ”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even said - ”

“Yes, Stiles, you can take my panties off. Preferably now.”

He smiled softly and muttered, “Just making sure.” Then his hands found the side of her hips and started pulling her skirt and panties down together.

She saw his head duck between her legs, and then his lips were on her core. Lydia’s head fell back, and she let out a long, breathy moan as Stiles’ tongue worked its wonders.

Her ragged breaths filled the room as she held Stiles’ head to her, her fingers tangling with the tips of his short but soft hair. It was both a way of anchoring herself and telling him don’t stop, keep going, don’t -

Her pleasure rolled over her like the tides on the beach outside. When it subsided, Lydia blinker her eyes open to find Stiles hovering over her, silently asking for her evaluation. She answered by sitting up and kissing him.

She kept Stiles busy with her lips while she undid his fly and shoved his pants down to his knees. He only caught on when she started pulling at his boxers as well, and adjusted his position so that she could push them down all the way, using her feet to finish the job.

When he was properly naked, Stiles snagged her around the waist and rolled over so that she was on top of him. Lydia stilled, her hand finding purchase on the sheets right above his shoulders. No one had conceded to her like that before. No one had so willingly given her control, ever.

“You okay?” Stiles asked. He must have taken her stillness for hesitation.

Lydia gave him her most convincing smile.

“Yeah. Yes, everything is fine, I was just trying to recall where I kept the condoms,” she told him.

She reached for the bedside drawer, but Stiles’ hand came up to stop her.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

His was looking at her so earnestly, Lydia couldn’t resist kissing him again.

“I want to,” she assured him. “If you want it too.”

He nodded and kissed her, releasing her arm. Lydia leaned over to reach the drawer again, and Stiles took the opportunity to unclip her bra. She shrugged it off as she straightened again, before waving the foil packet she’s retrieved.

Soon, she had rolled the condom onto Stiles and was lowering herself onto him. Stiles skated his hands up her thighs as she found a steady rhythm. They finally settled on her waist, just resting there, not gripping.

Even with her on top of him, Stiles was so active with his mouth. Appraisals of her beauty fell from his lips for every move she made.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbled. “Oh god - you’re so beautiful. Oh my god.”

It didn’t take long before Lydia started to feel herself lose control again. Her movements became jerky. She fell forward, fingers curling around Stiles’ shoulder, head burying under his chin as she cried his name.

Stiles carefully rolled them over, pausing only to adjust himself between her legs, before finding the rhythm she had set.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “It’s okay, I got you, I got you…”

“Stiles,” Lydia moaned as she lost control, and she felt Stiles release too, whispering her name into her skin.

For a while they lay together, bodies pressed together but for Stiles breaching himself on one forearm so he wouldn’t crush Lydia. Their deep breaths were in sync.

Finally, Lydia loosened her grip on Stiles’ torso, letting him slip out to get towels. When they’d cleaned themselves up, Lydia tossed both towels into a corner and pat the bed next to her. She tugged on the covers when he crawled in, silently asking him to stay. Stiles didn’t comment as she pulled the covers over their bare bodies, but obliged and grabbed a pillow. Lydia instinctively rolled onto her side as Stiles shifted closer to her. She leaned back against his chest. One of his arms found her waist again.

She twisted her neck to look at him. “I didn’t give you one back.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?”

He pecked the corner of her lips. “You can do it tomorrow, if you still want to.”

“I will,” she said firmly. Then she couldn’t help but yawn.

Stiles chuckled softly and nuzzled the back of her neck, causing her to relax and turn back.

“Goodnight, Lydia.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She woke up to the feeling of lips on her neck.

Stiles mumbled in his sleep, lips puckering and unknowingly leaving wet kisses on her skin. Lydia smiled when he hummed softly and tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing his face to her shoulder. One leg curled further up into his body, knee pressing into the back of hers, pushing her leg up with his, tangling their limbs further.

Lydia found herself leaning back into his embrace. Stiles’ body radiated heat. A good kind, warm and comforting, not the sweltering kind that bared down on the beach outside. His hold was firm but gentle. No one had cuddled with her like that before. It was nice.

She was just slipping into sleep again when a strange rock song started blaring throughout the room. Stiles jerked in the bed. He fumbled to retract his limbs from around her body as he sat up, and Lydia mourned the loss of skin contact.

Stiles’ arms flailed as he pushed himself up and over his haunches until he was crawling to the edge of the bed, leaning over to reach their clothes. The position gave Lydia a fine view of his ass. She couldn’t help sitting up to get a better look. However, Stiles soon pulled himself back up, pants in hand. He shook his ringing phone out of the pockets and swore when he saw the screen.

“Shit,” he mumbled, swiping his thumb across. “Hey Scotty, yes, I know, I’m - I just - I’ll be right there, okay?”

He’d retrieved his boxers and started pulling them on one-handedly, struggling to get his long legs in the right places without kicking her. He dropped his phone when the call ended and pulled on his pants with greater ease.

He turned to her while his deft fingers worked at the fly, eyes wide and wild for someone who had just woken up.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “This looks really bad, but my friends and I are doing a west coast trip, and our train - I forgot - and, uh - ”

He trailed off, head whipping around. He spotted something on her side of the bed and literally launched himself over her before tumbling to the floor.

Lydia held the covers up to her chest as she scooted to the side of the bed, peering at Stiles as he pulled his T-shirt out from where he had landed on it. He looked up, as if sensing her eyes on him, and reached up to squeeze her covered knee.

“I like you. A lot,” he told her, his voice suddenly soft. He quickly pulled his last piece of clothing over his head and stumbled to his feet, reaching over her legs for his phone. The object had been buzzing with incoming messages since he discarded it at the foot of the bed.

“I wish I could stay. But my best friend will murder me if I don’t - oh fuck,” Stiles rambled as he checked his phone again. He waved his arms exasperatedly, as if the action would somehow calm his frantic state. Then his head turned back to Lydia again, meeting her confused gaze.

He leaned over and cupped her face with one large hand.

“I’m really sorry about this,” he whispered, his lips hovering a bare two inches away from hers.

He gently connected his forehead with hers. Their noses brushed, and Lydia gasped in anticipation of one last kiss from his soft, soft lips.

But he pulled away, straightened, checked the small bedside clock, and then he was fumbling his way to the door again.

He paused in the doorway, turned around and shot her an apologetic look.

“Call me!” he yelled.

And then he was gone.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She never called. He didn’t leave his number.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The rest of summer came and went. Lydia spent her days flipping through her MIT course catalog, tagging all the interesting classes with colourful post-it flags. She completed two online courses, and by the time she flew to Massachusetts, was already a third of her way through junior year.

Stiles’ face would flash behind her closed eyes at night. His warm eyes, his messy hair, his soft smile. Sometimes she would wake up with the ghost of his touches brushing her skin. Whenever that happened, Lydia would clam down on her thoughts with logic. Realistically speaking, she would never meet Stiles again.

(Shame, he made her feel good. Really good.)

It happened a month into the semester. It was a Wednesday morning, the time Lydia paid the campus gym its weekly visit. She was warming up on the elliptical and her gaze was drifting across the room when she saw the television screen airing the Ellen show. Sitting on the couch opposite the host, was Stiles.

Curious, Lydia stopped the music on her phone and connected her earphones to the elliptical’s audio port instead. Stiles’ voice filled her ears the moment she’d adjusted for the correct channel, bright and jovial.

Stiles was dressed in a royal blue three-quarter sleeved crewneck that hugged his torso and arms in all the right places. His pants were tan, like the khakis he’d worn at the beach. His hair was neatly tucked under a blue and orange baseball cap that matched his shirt nicely.

He looked as good as she remembered, all twinkling eyes and animated hands.

And he was talking about their tryst on national television.

“She kept saying my name,” he said. “And I was saying hers. It just felt…amazing, like, I don’t know how to describe it without saying too much.”

Ellen Degeneres chuckled. “So the short version is that you had one hell of a night.”

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles answered, nodding vigorously. “Best night of my life. Except for the part where I had to catch a train in the morning and forgot to leave my number.”

“What’s her name?” the host prompted.

“I’m not sure I should say,” Stiles replied, and Lydia exhaled in relief. If he was going to make a fool of himself sharing their hookup on TV, at least he wasn’t dragging her down with him.

And yet, aghast as she was, Lydia could not help admiring him.

His shirt was just the right shade of blue that you could see the shadows defining his biceps when the light hit it right - such as when he went to rub his neck. Whenever they switched to a close-up camera angle, she could see the golden flecks in his irises, watch his long lashes flutter as he blinked incessantly, count the moles on his face.

His hair was curling at the back of his neck. Lydia remembered how it felt between her fingers during their first kiss. At one point he took his cap off, and if she noticed that it had grown longer, well, he was the one drawing attention to his hair by running a hand through it. She imagined his mane free from the confines of the offending headwear, a nest of unruly curls.

She was panting now, and it was not because she had been on the elliptical for fifteen minutes.

“But it’s not just the sex, you know?” Stiles was saying. “She was beautiful, great to talk to, and really smart…I just felt like we had this kind of connection, you know? Unspoken, of course.”

The audience ooohed. Stiles ducked his head, clearly not expecting such a reaction.

Ellen leaned over and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Alright, I want you to look at the camera there,” she told him, pointing with her other hand. “Imagine that girl is somewhere out there, watching. What do you want to say to her?”

Stiles looked straight into the camera, and Lydia felt as if he was addressing her directly through the screen.

“Hey, um, you know who you are. Assuming you remember me, that is,” Stiles started.

“I hope you remember me. I’d really like to meet you again. So, uh, if you don’t already think I’m pathetic for resorting to going to live TV, you can find me by uh…”

He trailed off and turned to the host.

“I gotcha,” Ellen told him, then she turned back to the camera. “If you are the one that Stiles is looking for, go to Ellen-dot-com-slash-You’re-the-One to tell us your name, school, and…”

“The last thing I said to you,” Stiles finished.

Lydia spent the rest of her day pondering whether or not to reach out to Stiles. Allison egged her on to. Lydia thought it was ridiculous. The link was probably already flooded with false submissions.

She kept putting her decision off to the next day, and eventually the link was closed altogether.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Saturday night when she got the call.

“I found your soulmate.”

Lydia did a double take. With midterms around the corner and a research project lined-up, she had not given much thought to Stiles and his little TV stunt. Allison’s words had caught her off guard.

“He’s not my soulmate.”

“Unspoken connection.”

“If I didn’t actually enjoy talking to him, that would sound totally creepy.”

“But you do like talking to him.”

Lydia could practically hear Allison grinning over the phone. She refrained from actually rolling her eyes. Allison would picture her doing it anyway.

“Come on, Lydia,” Allison whined. “Don’t you wanna know how I found your Summer Nights Danny Zuko?”

Lydia cringed at the thought of her and Stiles with those 70’s hairdos. Allison launched into her story anyway, recounting excitedly how she almost ran over a dog, and panicked until some guy named Scott directed her to the nearest animal clinic.

“…and when he smiled, oh my gosh, Lydia, he had the cutest dimples.”

“I thought this was about my ‘soulmate’.”

“It is,” Allison insisted, making a shh-ing noise. “Just listen. So, I went for lunch with him and asked each other the standard stuff, you know, what’s your planned major - he wants to go to medical school and become a vet, isn’t that cute?”

“Allison.”

“Right, so we were telling each other about ourselves, and when I told him I last lived in San Francisco, he told me about how he passed through in summer, and one of his friends hooked up with a girl and is now so determined to find her again that he went on Ellen for it.”

“So technically, you didn’t find Stiles himself,” Lydia deadpanned.

Allison hummed non-committedly. “Are you disappointed? I did find out a lot about him. He’s a California native - grew up in Beacon Hills, drives an old blue jeep, and right now, is studying in LA.”

“And that information is important because…?”

“You can track him down!” Allison basically yelled.

Lydia scoffed. “He’s the one who wants to be in law enforcement, he can track me down. Although I’m seriously questioning his common sense, since he decided that going on a talk show is a legitimate way to find someone.”

Despite Lydia’s repeated dismissals, Allison continued to bring Stiles in conversations. Especially after Allison and Scott started dating. Lydia was very happy for her best friend, but she wished she didn’t always have to hear about the total dumbass that was her summer fling.

As the semester drews to a close, Scott invited Allison to visit his home during winter break. Allison, naturally, wanted Lydia to come along. It was the perfect opportunity to meet Stiles again.

“Come on,” the girl begged one night when they were face-timing. “Stiles sounds really into you. Scott said he insists that your hair is strawberry blonde and gets offended when their friends call you a redhead.”

Lydia opened her mouth to retort. “But I am - ”

She stopped short. Stiles, as much as she loathed to admit, was right. Her hair was not a deep nor bright shade of red. Rather, it was a mix of gold and reddish hues, depending on how the light hit it.

Strawberry blonde.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

Allison smirked, and Lydia briefly considered slapping her laptop shut. Then her friend’s lips turned into a pout.

“Please, Lydia, for me? I don’t want to be there alone. What if it gets awkward?”

Lydia took one look at Allison’s expression and prayed for Scott’s resistivity.

“Fine,” she sighed. “When do our breaks overlap? We’ll need to know Scott’s too…”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The semester was over in the blink of an eye. Allison and Lydia spent Christmas back in San Francisco. Since Allison’s mother and aunt passed and Lydia’s father left for good, the two families had Christmas dinner together. It was a small, easy-going affair, and the girls would have a sleepover after. This year, the Argents hosted the event, so Lydia slept at Allison’s. The next day, Allison drove them to Beacon Hills.

It was almost dinnertime when they pulled up in front of Scott’s house. Scott himself was waiting on the porch, making his way down the steps before Allison killed the engine. He offered to help with their luggages, and Lydia could see the heart eyes Allison was making at him, so she announced that she would bring the food and gifts they’d brought in.

Scott ran back to open the door for her. “The kitchen’s just straight through the living room. You can see the entryway. My friends are in there, they can show you where to put everything.”

Lydia nodded, giving Scott her sweetest smile before making her way into the house.

My friends are in there, Scott had said. Stiles was in there, just one room away from her.

She heard him before she saw him, making an animated case for the Loch Ness monster’s existence. Stepping into the kitchen, her eyes immediately spotted him in the far corner, leaning against the counter. He had a Coke can in one hand, the other waving around as he rambled to the guy standing with him.

He started speaking more intensely, his voice lowered, his gestures more precise. He turned to put his rink on the counter and when he turned back, that was when it happened.

Lydia could pinpoint the exact moment he saw her. First his eyes met hers, and eve across the room, she could see how bright and gold they were. His mouth dropped open, and Lydia watched, almost in slow motion, as he blinked once, twice, three times in disbelief. Then the corners of his mouth pulled up into a wide smile.

“Lydia.”

God, she missed hearing his voice say her name as much as she missed watching his lips form it.

The back of her mind was screaming for her to say something as she took a step towards him, but Stiles, being Stiles, beat her to it.

“I - wow - what are you doing here? I mean, not in a bad way - I just didn’t expect it. You’re here,” he said, in a single breath.

“I’m here,” Lydia breathed. Then, because she felt the need to explain. “I came with Allison.”

There he was, blinking again, rapidly. Did he have to do that? His long eyelashes looked absolutely luscious.

“So you’re Lydia!” a new voice butted in. “Stiles mentions you a lot.”

She’d been so enraptured by Stiles that she hadn’t noticed his companion coming to stand next to him.

“You don’t talk,” Stiles muttered, half-heartedly shoving the other boy aside.

The boy had gave them and impish grin and walked out of the kitchen laughing.

“Don’t mind Liam,” Stiles said. “He is always annoying. So, uh, how are you doing?”

Lydia responded by smacking his chest.

“You!” she exclaimed, as Stiles flailed backwards, giving him no time to react. She jabbed a finger at him, revelling in his shocked expression. “You are the most ridiculous, insane, annoying person I have ever encountered!”

Stiles stuttered. “Lydia - what - Lydia?!” But Lydia pressed on.

“Why the hell did you tell everyone?” she continued. “So we slept together and it was great. But then you announced it on national television!”

“I was just desperate to find you!” Stiles explained. His hands were held at shoulder height, in surrender. “I admit, it wasn’t my best idea…”

“You told everyone! It was supposed to be private! We had something, now everyone knows and it’s just - just - ”

“We had something?” His voice was a low whisper.

Lydia backtracked mentally. Did I say that?

She opened her mouth, but no words came out, and she ended up simply staring at Stiles, folding her lips.

She was saved by Scott, who entered with an older couple. Allison was trailing behind them, and the brunette raised her brows when she saw Lydia standing there with Stiles.

“Hi Lydia!” Scott called brightly, oblivious to what he had walked into. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Lydia, Allison’s friend.”

“Please call me Melissa,” Scott’s mother said as Lydia shook her hand.

Scott brought the older man forward. “And this is Sheriff - well - ah…”

“Noah Stilinski,” the man introduced himself. Lydia choked on her greeting. Stilinski? As in -

“I see you’ve met my son,” Noah said, waving at Stiles. Lydia looked over her shoulder to see Stiles wave back and shoot his father a wink. “I hope he hasn’t said anything too weird to you.”

“Oh!” Scott exclaimed, a shit-eating grin forming on his face. “Did Allison tell you about the Ellen thing?”

She heard Stiles groan, and Lydia decided to make him explain himself.

“Hmm, yeah I think she mentioned it,” she said, turning to face Stiles with arms crossed and challenging eyebrow raised. “I wanna know what that was about.”

Stiles’ red face was worth it.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Hey, do you want to go for a walk?”

Lydia studied the boy before her. He was leaning against the kitchen island, fingers fiddling in his lap. The sight had greeted her when she stepped out of the bathroom.

She glanced at the entryway, where she could see Allison and Melissa laughing, presumably at Scott and the Sheriff, who were on the other side of the coffee table, out of view.

She turned back to Stiles.

“Did you wait here for me?”

“Yeah,” he answered immediately.

His eyes were big and sincere. He had really waited just for the chance to talk to her.

“Okay,” Lydia decided.

“Okay?”

“We can go for a walk,” she clarified.

“Oh, right,” Stiles said. “Or I mean, like, we could just stand outside, because it’s late, and dark, and - ”

He caught her raised eyebrows.

“Right,” he repeated. Then he held his hand out for her to take.

So here they were, standing just outside the McCall’s backdoor.

“I didn’t want to give that many details,” Stiles started as soon as the door shut. “The producers made me because it would gain more attention.”

“What made you think going on national TV was a good idea in the first place?”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, which, as usual, inadvertently showed off his arm, even in the red hoodie he was wearing. Lydia swallowed and tried not to be distracted.

“Yeah, not my best of plans,” he admitted sheepishly. “You don’t even look like you watch talk shows, now that I think about it.”

“I don’t, it was playing in the gym,” Lydia told him. “So, did anyone respond to the link?”

Stiles chuckled. “Yeah, there were a couple of people who asked me out. Most of it was just my classmates making fun the whole thing, though.”

He paused, then, “Just out of curiosity, do you remember the last thing I said to you?”

I like you. A lot. I wish I could stay. I’m really sorry about this.

She could hear his words in her head, clear as day.

“You said you were sorry,” she answered. “And you asked me to call you.”

“Would you have?” he asked. “If I had actually given you my number. Would you have called me?”

His was fiddling with his fingers again, eyes darting between his shoes and her face.

Would she have? Moving on after that night had been easy because calling had not been a legitimate option, but what if it had been?

Lydia thought about how she had put off the link until it had closed.

She settled on an answer.

“I don’t know,” she began. “But, if you give it to me now, I will call you tomorrow.”

Stiles blinked at her, mouth hanging open. Then he fixed his face in a smile and pulled his phone out. Lydia did the same.

“Actually,” he started, once their numbers had been entered into each other’s phones. “Do you want to go on a date tomorrow? With me?”

Lydia didn’t have to think. She knew Allison wanted to spend time with Scott anyway.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Stiles slept in (Lydia shouldn’t have been surprised), so they met up after lunch, with Stiles picking her up from Scott’s in his jeep, which was indeed blue and very old. He drove her around for a “pre-date”, as he called it, pointing out different places in town.

When they finally pulled into the carpark behind an ice-skating rink, Lydia decided Stiles must have consulted Allison.

“I talked to Allison,” Stiles said, confirming her thoughts. “And she told me you used to skate but had to stop when your local skating rink shut down, so I thought, we could come here and you can show me all the skills you remember.”

Prepare to have your mind blown, Lydia thought. I remember a lot.

A signboard outside the rink said it was closed for the day. When Lydia rapped her fingers against the posterboard, Stiles simply shot her a wicked grin.

“I might have pulled a few strings.”

They sat side-by-side on a bench, lacing up their skates. Stiles offered her a bright orange jacket when she commented on the cold temperature, but Lydia turned it down.

“I’m wearing blue,” she said, primly. “Orange and blue? Not a good combination.”

“But it’s the colors of the Mets!” Stiles insisted.

Lydia recalled the baseball cap he had worn on TV. Now that she thought about it, the underside of the bill had been the same bright orange as his jacket.

She guessed Star Wars was not the only thing Stiles was passionate about.

Lydia shook her head and stood. “Are we skating or what?”

They did a few warm-up laps around the rink together. Stiles flailed a lot at the beginning, but surprisingly stayed on his feet throughout. By the third lap, he was perfectly balanced.

Lydia pulled ahead of him as they began the fifth round and whizzed past Stiles twice before she decided it was time to try some of her old tricks. She skated into the middle of the rink and wide arcs. Then she made her circles smaller and smaller until finally she was doing spins.

She had to admit, she missed this. She missed the feeling of gliding across the ice, arms outstretched like a dancer. She missed the way the cold air would whip around her face. She missed the stretch in her muscles as she performed various tricks.

She giggled happily as she completed a fast set of pirouettes, exiting the spin perfectly. When she looked up, she spotted Stiles standing across the rink, jaw dropped.

She skated up to him and took his hand. Stiles continued gaping at her, awe written all over his face. Lydia’s smile grew wider.

“Well?” she said, when he continued gaping at her. “Come on.”

She moved to skate a few more laps, pulling Stiles after her.

It must have been hours before they headed back into the bleachers and removed their skates. Stiles offered her a two-pack of Reese cups when they clambered back into the jeep. Lydia was going back to Scott’s for dinner with him and Allison, while Stiles was bringing his father dinner at work.

He walked her to the porch when they arrived at Scott’s. Lydia noticed he had been looking at the ground as they made their way up, and figured he was nervous again.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

Stiles lifted his eyes to meet hers.

“This is my last night back before I leave,” he explained sadly. “I have an attachment at LAPD for winter intersession.”

“Oh,” Lydia said. But also - “That’s great though, isn’t it?”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m leaving again,” he confessed.

There was a fuzzy feeling in her chest. Perhaps it was her heart melting.

Lydia took his head in her hands.

“Stiles,” she assured him. “I like you. A lot. You’re funny, and sweet, and pretty smart.”

Stiles laughed through his nose. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you, Miss Future Fields Medal.”

Lydia shook her head, flustered by the casual compliment. “What I mean is, we’re both smart, so I think, between us, we can figure something out.”

Stiles’ face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

Lydia nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “As long as you don’t do anything ridiculous like going on TV.”

Stiles stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “I am never living that down, am I?”

Lydia was full on grinning now. Her grin grew wider and wider as Stiles playfully asked her to “stop, Stop it! Stop looking at me like that!” until it was almost splitting her face.

“Also,” Lydia added. “Allison’s spring term starts earlier than mine, so, if you wanted, I could go to LA for a while…”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

Lydia took his hands in hers. “I still owe you one, remember?”

Stiles adjusted his hands, tangling their fingers together. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Lydia began to answer, of course, but then the buzzing of a phone distracted them.

Stiles pulled one of his hands away to retrieve the offending device from his back pocket.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” he muttered, and shot Lydia an apologetic glance before bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey dad! Yes, I know. I’m on my way. No, the jeep did not break down once today. Yes, I’m still with - no! Dad, no, oh my god - well, that was…yeah, I don’t really have anything to say about that…”

He looked up at Lydia as his voice trailed off, and Lydia had a feeling the sheriff had figured out she was ‘the one’.

“…mhm, yes, yes, and yes, you know it’s for your own good. I’ll see you soon, dad. Love you.”

Stiles ended the call with his father and turned back to Lydia.

“I should go,” he sighed. Lydia only nodded in understanding.

“Scott’s coming to send me off tomorrow,” Stiles continued. “You could come along - if you and Allison don’t have any plans. I mean, I can’t guarantee you’ll get to spend a lot of time with me because Scott and I will be hugging each other a lot, so…”

Lydia chuckled. She had seen the previous night how Scott and Stiles could not keep their hands off each other when they talked. They were always patting each other on the shoulder or the back. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine the two locked in an endless bear hug.

“I’ll be there,” she told him, reaching for his hand again. Stiles obliged.

He squeezed her hand once. “Well, goodnight, Lydia.”

He had taken two steps towards his jeep when he suddenly spun around. Lydia just managed to catch the mischievous glint in his eye before Stiles had lunged forward and planted a quick kiss at the corner of her lips, a soft mwah! escaping from his.

He was grinning when he pulled back.

“Goodnight!” he repeated as he backed away from the porch.

Lydia was too stunned to answer. She let out a little gasp of breath. Her fingers came to rest lightly on her lips.

When she came to her senses, Stiles was climbing into his jeep.

He waved when he saw that she was still looking at him, then made a phone sign with his hand, bringing it to his ear.

He winked. Call me.

This time, she knew she would.