#if you browse through my old posts just uh

[seizeourdestiny]

Looking back through some of my old text posts on here, and man, I was mad depresso back then.

Glad to say my mental health has improved significantly.

[forabeatofadrum]

The first El WooWoo of the year! And as the banner says, I’m still reading instead of writing. So here we go. Buckle up, Klainers and ... Snovians (???? is there a name for Snowbaz shippers? This is just Simon. Snowbazzians?) (What would you call Baz fans? Bazzies?).

I am really enjoying these fic rec posts, more than I thought. It also motivates me to read more, which is a win-win. I do have some ideas for Ljubim te again, so I think I’ll start writing them soon. But maybe I will make a separate post for fics, aside from Wip Wednesday and Six Sentence Sunday? Fic Rec Friday?

ANYWAY, buckle up, it’s a long post, so the entire rec + tags will be under cut today!

Some non-fic recs first. Some? One, actually. I am rereading my Kickstarter books for Check, Please! in preparation for the delivery of the Year 4 Kickstarter. I... uh... asked the shipping costs for that campaign as a Christmas gift. But God yeah, I love this webcomic so much. Time to get back to the SMH (Samwell Meme’s Hockey Team).

Up to the fics!

@martsonmars wrote a fic about “consensual biting” between 6 years old: Love Bite. It’s adorable. I love how silly kids can be. And I am a bitch for fics where Lucy lives 😭!

I am catching up on The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow by @confused-bi-queer. I last read chapter 5, and [Jason Mendoza voice] oh Simon and Baz, we’re really in it now. I am upsetti spaghetti.

I am still riding the angst train right into Is It Over Yet? by @jayne89. God I really wish Carmen was actually this good, instead of a plot device for Rachel’s.... uhm... questionable storylines. Really excited for more of this verse.

God, I am really going through it, huh? @thnxforknowingme wrote a 2022 fic in review where she mentioned True Colors, a character study of Quinn between season 2 and 3, and I like the premise. I really enjoyed it. Damn, skank!Quinn had so much potential, but RIB just had to do the wack baby storyline.

This isn’t Jenna’s only fic that I have read. I finally, finally read Miles To Go, and I know a fic this wonderful should have a long and coherent comment, but I am just speechless. So utterly speechless. I started it when it was originally posted, but I had just lost my grandmother and yeah it was the wrong time. Now, we got the message that it’s time for my uncle to collect her ashes. Weird way to go back to a fic, but that’s what happened, and this fic tugged at my heartstrings. I definitely recommend it to everyone.

Also, more Jenna stuff, but insert the Chris Fleming meme here. Was no one ever going to tell me that Jenna has written Hades fic, or was I just supposed to find out by browsing through her AO3 by myself? Aíma.... YOOOO. The relation between Zaggie and blood? Jenna, your mind!

More sad shit? More sad shit! @wellbelesbian really made me say FUCK THE MAGE with the latest chapter of blow on the tinder. Guys, this is such a good fic. Alex, I am so glad you’re continuing it!

Okay, okay, whooo, time out with the angst. @redheadgleek‘s Pierce My Soul is a fluffy gem and I am a bitch for costume crew!Kurt. Although he got promoted here and he designed the costumes, including Blaine’s. There are so many great gems in this fic, but I lost it at Brad Ellis being the piano man. And when the fic mirrored dialogue from the show.... my heart!

I definitely boarded the fluff train now. I saw @letraspal‘s art for @skeedelvee‘s Drunken Kisses. I am all 🥺🥺🥺🥺 about this fic. Simon “He Is Plotting” Snow is amazing. Mix it with Baz “Gay Yearning” Pitch and voila!

@facewithoutheart delves into Simon’s sad childhood, but in a fluffy way, in What I Wouldn’t Give. Simon gets his first plushie and we all cry. I am such a bitch for this concept and Christina helpfully linked to another one, namely to @lifewithoutmotivation​‘s Flamey. I am just overwhelmed on Simon’s behalf! This guy deserves all the gifts and birthday parties! (Also, congrats on the new URL!)

And we’re going to end this rec post with more holiday cheers from the holiday queers (really, did anyone watch The New Normal?) with @1908jmd​‘s Klaine Advent 2022 - With their favourite people. Jen did a true drabble challenge and all the snippets are about the people in Kurt and Blaine’s lives and look I just got very emo over it.

If you’ve already been tagged in a rec, consider that a tag for WIP Wednesday (or Six Sentence Sunday). Also tagging @quizasvivamos @crissmastrees-and-candyklaines @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen​ @cutestkilla​ @artsyunderstudy​  

[pesterloglog]

Karkat Vantas, Terezi Pyrope, Sollux Captor, Equius Zahhak

Act 5, page 2543

PAST carcinoGeneticist [PCG] 6:12 HOURS AGO opened public transtimeline bulletin board TEAM ADORABLOODTHIRSTY.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PCG 6:12 HOURS AGO opened memo on board TEAM ADORABLOODTHIRSTY.

PCG: OK I THINK I SET THIS UP RIGHT.

PCG: FUCK I SHOULD HAVE COME UP WITH A BETTER BOARD NAME.

PCG: BUT I GUESS THAT'S THE NAME IT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE SINCE THAT'S THE NAME THAT

PCG: UH

PCG: I ALREADY READ.

PCG: WOW THAT PROBABLY WON'T MAKE ANY SENSE TO ANYBODY.

PCG: WHATEVER, IT'S JUST A STUPID NAME, LET'S JUST DO THIS.

PCG: THIS IS A PUBLIC BULLETIN USING TROLLIAN'S WEIRD TRANSTIMELINE FEATURES WHICH I DON'T EVEN REALLY UNDERSTAND YET.

PCG: BUT I'M GUESSING MIGHT BE USEFUL.

PCG: I'VE INCLUDED ALL TWELVE PLAYERS IN THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST SO YOU SHOULD ALL BE ABLE TO READ THESE MEMOS AT ANY TIME.

PCG: THAT IS, ALL THE MEMOS POSTED, PAST AND FUTURE. I THINK.

PCG: IT COULD GET PRETTY TEMPORALLY CONFUSING OBVIOUSLY. I'M GOING TO TRY TO KEEP THE MEMOS AS SIMPLE AND LINEAR AS POSSIBLE.

PCG: ALSO LET'S KEEP THIS A ONE-WAY-ONLY BULLETIN TO MAKE THIS AS SIMPLE AS POSSIBLE.

PCG: DO NOT REPLY TO MY MEMOS!!! THIS IS NOT A FUCKING CHATROOM, ASSHOLES.

PCG: IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME IN RESPONSE TO A MEMO, MESSAGE ME IN PRIVATE AT THE APPROPRIATE POINT ON THE TIMELINE.

PCG: FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS IS ABOUT THE TEAMS.

PCG: AS OF NOW, YOU SHOULD ALL BE AWARE THAT THERE IS REALLY ONLY ONE TEAM, AND WE ARE ALL WORKING TOGETHER.

PCG: AND BY "NOW" I MEAN TIME LOCAL TO ME AS OF WRITING THIS.

PCG: SO IF YOU'RE READING THIS IN THE PAST...

PCG: UH OK FIRST OF ALL, HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW ABOUT THIS FEATURE ALREADY? SECOND WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING TELL ME.

PCG: WHATEVER I DIGRESS.

PCG: IF YOU'RE READING THIS IN THE FUTURE THEN WHO CARES, IT'S PROBABLY OLD NEWS TO YOU.

PCG: ACTUALLY NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, WHAT'S SO SPECIAL ABOUT READING THIS IN THE FUTURE?

PCG: IT'S LIKE ANY BULLETIN BOARD, YOU POST STUFF AND IT SITS THERE FOR A WHILE AND PEOPLE IN "THE FUTURE" READ IT.

PCG: HUH. BIG FUCKING DEAL I GUESS.

PAST gallowsCalibrator [PGC] 5:51 HOURS AGO responded to memo.

PGC: OH MY GOD K4RK4T!

PGC: WHO C4R3S!!!!! >:O

PCG banned PGC from responding to memo.

PCG: ANYWAY LIKE I WAS SAYING.

PCG: ONE BIG TEAM, OVER WHICH I HAVE ASSUMED TOTAL LEADERSHIP.

PCG: I WILL ASSUME THAT IT WILL CONTINUE TO STAY THIS WAY FOR THE DURATION OF OUR QUEST, AND THAT I WILL REMAIN AN IMPECCABLE LEADER FOR A SPAN OF HUNDREDS OF HOURS WHILE I GUIDE US ALL TO A STUNNING VICTORY.

PCG: IN FACT, I DON'T EVEN NEED TO ASSUME.

PCG: I BROWSED THROUGH THIS WHOLE BULLETIN IN ADVANCE, AND IT DOES APPEAR TO BE THE CASE. GO ME.

PCG: IN FACT, SINCE I'VE SEEN WHAT I WILL WRITE IN THE FUTURE, I WONDER WHAT IMPETUS I WILL HAVE FOR WRITING IT LATER WHEN I'M SUPPOSED TO?

PCG: I WONDER IF I COULD JUST COPY/PASTE IT... HOLD ON.

PCG: DAMN.

PCG: I GUESS THEY THOUGHT OF THAT? I DUNNO. I TRIED TO LOOK AT THE WHOLE BULLETIN AGAIN, BUT NOW THAT I'VE OPENED THIS ONE FROM THE BEGINNING, I CAN'T SEE THE WHOLE THING ANYMORE.

PCG: UNLESS I LOOK AT IT ON ONE OF YOUR COMPUTERS...

PCG: OR MAYBE IF YOU SEND ME LIKE A TEXT FILE OF IT? WOULD THAT CAUSE A PARADOX OR SOMETHING?

PCG: YOU KNOW WHAT, THIS IS SO STUPID.

PCG: I ACTUALLY REMEMBER READING ALL THIS SHIT LIKE A HALF HOUR AGO, AND NOW HERE I AM TYPING IT ANYWAY.

PCG: I PROBABLY CAN'T AVOID TYPING ANY OF THIS, HOW WEIRD IS THAT.

PCG: I HATE TIME TRAVEL.

PAST twinArmageddons [PTA] 0:34 HOURS AGO responded to memo.

PTA: eheheheheh KK iim ba2iically ju2t lmao here at thii2, WOW.

PCG: HOLY FUCKING SHIT, ARE YOU PEOPLE RETARDED.

PTA: dude don't worry ii wont fuck up your memo for long, ii ju2t cant beliieve thii2 wa2 the biig rea2on you wanted "future me" two help you open tho2e port2.

PTA: two ba2iically ju2t babble about paradoxe2 and argue wiith your2elf for hundred2 of page2 heheheh.

PCG: OK SO YOU'RE SAYING THIS FROM LIKE 5 HOURS IN THE FUTURE JUST TO GIVE ME A HARD TIME, NICE.

PCG: WELL THANKS FOR THE HELP, SO WHEN DO I BAN YOU, FUTURE BOY?

PTA: a few liine2 down, after ii pretend liike iim goiing two diie.

PTA: iim 2ure for a laugh on account of my iimmiinent banniing, FUCK how could you even do that two me.

PTA: 2o cold man.

PCG: ARE YOU REALLY STILL SORE AT ME FIVE HOURS LATER FOR RUNNING THAT VIRUS, GOD DAMN GET OVER IT.

PCG: IT WAS YOUR FUCKING VIRUS ANYWAY, YOU'RE TO BLAME.

PTA: eheh no bro we're cool about that, now future you ii2 connectiing wiith me 2o ii can enter the game.

PCG: OH YEAH?

PTA: yeah 2o thank2 for that fiive hour2 iin advance.

PCG: THIS IS BS ISN'T IT.

PCG: TROLLING ME FROM THE FUTURE, HOW JUVENILE CAN YOU GET.

PTA: no man iit2 true, we are bulge bumpiing pupa pal2 agaiin.

PCG: OH FUCK THIS CONDESCENDING FUTURE KNOWITALL ACT, WE AREN'T BUMPING SHIT, YOU ARE SO BANNED.

PTA: nooooooo, not the ban, it buuuuuuurn2, oh god hahahaha.

PTA: waiit.

PTA: oh god.

PTA: iit doe2 burn.

PTA: 2omethiing'2 wrong, iim 2eriiou2!

PTA: that horriible p2ychiic noii2e

PTA: the voiice2

PTA: they're all goiing two diie

PTA: oh 2HiiT iim bleediing

PTA: 2hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

PTA: thii2 ii2 bad

PTA: ii have two get her iin quiick

PTA: got two go

PCG banned PTA from responding to memo.

PCG: AND SO THE PORCINE HOOF BELONGING TO THE SWOLLEN HAG KNOWN AS LADY DESTINY HAS STOMPED ANOTHER THROAT.

PCG: WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS IS NEXT?

PCG: NOBODY???

PCG: OK, GOOD.

PCG: ALTHOUGH I'M FAIRLY SURE I REMEMBER SOMEONE ELSE CHIMING IN BEFORE I CLOSED THIS MEMO.

PCG: YOU ADD DISORDERED SHIT RINSERS CAN'T KEEP YOUR LASCIVIOUS PRONGS OUT OF THE ROE HOLE, CAN YOU.

PCG: SOLLUX, FOR FUTURE REFERENCE, OR PAST REFERENCE OR WHATEVER

PCG: IF YOU WANT TO DO THAT KIND OF ROLEPLAYING, YOU CAN START YOUR OWN BULLETIN.

PCG: YOU CAN ALL ACT LIKE BRAINDEAD ASSWIPES IN YOUR OWN FESTERING FLAP OF PARADOX SPACE, FINE WITH ME.

PCG: EVERYONE WILL BE SO CONFUSED BY THE TIME PARADOXES, IT WILL DISTRACT THEM FROM HOW AWFUL THEIR TERRIBLE HOBBIES ARE.

PCG: CHOOSE YOUR CLASSES NOW! LEVEL 69 NOOKSNIFFER IS UP FOR GRABS, WHO WANTS IT.

PCG: NO THAT'S NOT AN INVITATION FOR YOU FUCKING NERDS TO COME IN HERE AND CORRECT ME ON YOUR GODDAMN FAIRY ELVES.

PCG: JUST DO ME A FAVOR AND KEEP ME BANNED FROM THAT ONE OK.

PCG: I'LL RETURN THE FAVOR IF YOU NERD UP MY MEMOS, I SERIOUSLY CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MANY FUCKING NERDS ARE ON THIS TEAM.

PCG: JUST REMEMBER THIS IS MY PERSONAL PODIUM, A STUMP IF YOU WILL, FOR SOLE USE BY ME AS LEADER FOR IMPORTANT LEADERSHIP BUSINESS.

PCG: GOT IT?????????

FUTURE carcinoGeneticist [FCG] 612 HOURS FROM NOW responded to memo.

FCG: GROAN.

FCG: THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING.

FCG: WHAT WAS I EVEN THINKING.

PCG: STFU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PCG banned FCG from responding to memo.

PCG: OK, I'M FED UP WITH THIS MEMO, GONNA CLOSE IT OUT.

PCG: YOU'LL HEAR FROM ME AGAIN LATER WHEN I GOT SOMETHING ELSE TO SAY, I.E. JUST SCROLL DOWN YOU DOUCHE.

PCG: IT'S ALL RIGHT THERE ALREADY.

PCG: BECAUSE OF

PCG: TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME TRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVEL!

PCG: I KNOW, RIGHT?

PCG: ANYWAY, JUST TO REITERATE:

PCG: FULL STEAM AHEAD

PCG: LEADER = ME FOREVER, OBVIOUSLY

PCG: PEACE THE FUCK OUT DBAGS

CURRENT centaursTesticle [CCT] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.

CCT: D --> I'd like to add to this useless memorandum

CCT: D --> That I still don't recognize the validity of your leadership

PCG: SWEET MOTHER GRUB'S OOZING VESTIGIAL THIRD ORAL SPHINCTER.

PCG: HOW CAN YOU PEOPLE BE SO STUPID.

CCT: D --> It may be true that we are all playing in the same session, but I see no reason to disband the former power structure

CCT: D --> Especially if it means instituting a tactical midget with a short fuse, a foul mouth, and paralyzing insecurity over the color of his b100d

CCT: D --> That's all I have to say

PCG: OH I HAVE A SHORT FUSE! THAT'S VERY FUNNY, YOU CAN ALMOST HEAR ME LAUGH OVER THE SOUND OF THE ROBOT YOU ARE PROBABLY BEATING TO DEATH.

PCG: OR DOING WORSE TO.

PCG: HEY, YOU DO KISS YOUR ROBOTS, RIGHT?

CCT: D --> Uh

PCG: MIGHT AS WELL CLEAR THE AIR AS LONG AS WE'RE BROADCASTING THIS ACROSS THE ENTIRE SPACETIME CONTINUUM.

CCT: D --> Not usually

PCG: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

PCG: THE FUNNY THING IS IN THE FUTURE EVERYONE WILL RECOGNIZE ME AS THE UNDISPUTED LEADER, EVEN YOU.

PCG: YOU WILL BE STANDING ON THE TIPPYTOES OF YOUR IDIOTIC METAL SHOES, TAKING DELICATE PURCHASE OF MY NUBBY HORNS AND HOISTING YOURSELF OVER MY HEAD TO PUT YOUR SWEATIEST TOUGH GUY SMOOCH UPON MY TWITCHING SPINE LUMP.

PCG: IT WILL BE TENDER AND DEFERENTIAL, LIKE A PAUPER KISSING A NOBLE'S RING.

PCG: JUST SCROLL DOWN, READ THE LOGS.

CCT: D --> Nowhere have I seen evidence of this

CCT: D --> Most of this is you from various points in time raving about nonsense and arguing with yourself

CCT: D --> Do you realize that here in the future, this bulletin has come to be regarded as something of a joke

CCT: D --> A lengthy piece of comedy, often quoted amongst ourselves in private moments of levity

CCT: D --> It seems I'm the one to inform you of this up front

CCT: D --> Which is likely why you persist with the ingratiating charade against better judgement

PCG: YOU'RE GETTING OFF ON THIS AREN'T YOU

CCT: D --> What do you mean

PCG: THIS EXCITES YOU, BEING THE TOUGH GUY AND PRETENDING LIKE YOU'RE PUTTING THE AWESOME LEADER IN HIS PLACE.

PCG: YOU'RE PROBABLY WORKING UP A GOOD SWEAT.

PCG: HOPE YOU ALCHEMIZED A BUNCH OF SPARE TOWELS.

PCG: HEY WHY DON'T YOU && THEM WITH YOUR SPONGEY BRAIN FOR EXTRA ABSORBENCY.

CCT: D --> How do you know about my perspiration problem

CCT: D --> I mean, aside from reading about it in this memo

CCT: D --> Wait

CCT: D --> Fudgesicles

PCG banned CCT from responding to memo.

PCG closed memo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[writefightandflightclub]

I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long. 

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.” 

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles. 

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

[ackerlert]

Sneaky Link

Pairings: Porco x fem reader x sugar daddy!zeke

Summary: University reader becomes Zeke’s sugar baby after meeting each other at her work, which is a stripper, ofc. Eventually develops a relationship with Porco Galliard, of whom Zeke employs ;)

TW: alcohol usage, oral (m / f receiving), food (icing) play, mirror sex, phone sex

You needed some money during college, and tutoring stupid high schoolers wasn’t making the bills. Plus, you couldn’t put up with their slowness one second longer.

When Sasha took you out for a night at the strip club to relieve some stress, her joke that you could always make bank shaking your ass for old men actually sounded quite appealing. It was a lot more fun than tutoring, anyways. 

Out of curiosity, you found yourself browsing the internet for openings at nearby nightclubs. Soon you were watching YouTube videos of strippers going through their daily routine, counting their tips, and describing their success in the industry. You were hooked.

You ask Hitch to take pole dancing lessons with you, and she doesn't suspect any of your true intentions, since this was on your bucket list of things to do together.

Soon you secured yourself a job at a local strip club. The first person you confided in was, unsurprisingly, Hitch. She was surprised you actually pursued being a stripper, but the shock didn't really last for long considering her knowledge of your freaky tendencies.

Hitch advised you to be careful, and she was particularly worried about how you would manage to fit this new job into your tight school schedule.

It was simple: you would take your classes, do your assignments, and report to your job at night. You’d work through the closing shift and get back to your shared apartment with Mikasa, Sasha, and Hitch sometime past 2am.

Zeke is a regular.

He gives you larger tips than any of the other girls.

He even pays for private sessions, which consist of you dancing for him mostly an hour at a time.

Eventually you two fuck it out in a booth of the club.

He asks if you'd like to “do this again sometime”. Naturally, you agreed. He exchanges phone numbers with you and asks for your cashapp. 

Blushing because you didn't realize he intended on compensating you for your arrangement, you agree to give him your account number.

You and Zeke continue this for a couple months, growing more addicted to the orgasms he gives you every time.

You had two generous sources of income now.

You found out a lot about zeke: he owned a decently large company, fucked a lot of women before he met you, and he was even more freaky than yourself. 

One day after a session with Zeke, you're sprawled out on the side of his bed, toying with the golden hair that trailed down his torso, and staring up at the ceiling, mind completely fucked out.

“I have a business event coming up soon,” Zeke states.

You hum in approval, not expecting zeke to continue on.

“It’s plus one.” He pauses, “I was wondering if you would like to join me.”

You turn your head to look at Zeke, almost asking him to repeat himself. Was this like a date thing?

Zeke turned to look at you too. His eyes glossed over at the sight of your surprised face and post-sex hair floating around the crown of your head. He smirked, visualizing the way he had made that sex hair. Gripping your h/c locks and pulling your head back, pounding into you from behind.

Your lips were swollen from being stretched around his thick cock, making him cum round after round. Now they were parted, unsure as what to make of his question.

Zeke repeated himself, “Are you free next Saturday?”

“Y-yes. I’m free.” You said, “I would love to go to your work thing with you.” A smile graced your lips. He fucking loved that smile. Loved seeing it bloom on your face when your eyes rolled to the back of your head, begging to take more of his cock.

“Alright,” he grabbed for his phone, pulling up the information from his calendar. Your phone dinged, no doubt zeke sending you over the event details. “It’s formal attire. Do you need to buy something to wear?” He glanced up lovingly from the screen at you for a mere second. “Fuck it, never mind that.” His eyes reconcentrated back onto the phone. Your phone dinged again, the familiar melody of the cashapp notification filling your ears.

“Let’s take you shopping, princess.” His legs swung over the side of the bed. A back completely full of endless scratches faced you while he stretched those long arms of his. His back muscles rippled as he did so, the sight making your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

“Wait!” You say desperately and propping yourself up on the bed. You didn't intend on opening your mouth, but now you had to commit to it.

Zeke side glanced at you, acknowledging your pathetic request.

“Let me suck you off one more time,” you said. You added, “before we go.” A husky chuckle escaped from zeke’s throat. “Such a slut for me.” “What a good girl, knowing just the way to make me hard.”

Porco and you meet each other at the business event, it’s an instant click. He’s employed by Zeke. Soon you're exchanging numbers with him.

These business parties became more frequent with Zeke. And every time, Porco was there. You two would sneak off to help yourself to drinks while Zeke was bombarded with potential buyers inquiring about his product.

Porco makes you laugh so much. Honestly, it’s probably the alcohol, but every joke he cracked earned a cute giggle from you. It only made him harder for you than he already was.

“I could go a lot longer than him, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

Sooner than later you’re texting Zeke that the alcohol was killing your stomach, and you just had to get out of there right away. 

Porco didn’t wait to stick his strong hands in your pants when you tumbled into the taxi.

“Gonna take you away from that old man’s dick, yeah baby? Give you this big cock like you deserve?”

You make it back to his large apartment, practically humping his clothed leg on the elevator ride.

By the time you’re inside his place, your panties are soaked and the black lace Zeke bought you is falling from your shoulders.

Porco throws you on the bed, not leaving you any time to remove your heels. 

He climbs over you and just starts completely obliterating you with open mouthed kisses across your collarbone.

You don't fail to notice the mirror above Porco’s large bed, seeing the way he straddles over your small body.

Porco sits up from his position on the end of the bed and grabs for your ankles, yanking you closer to him. Just as he hums into your folds, a buzzing emerges from your purse in the middle of the living room.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing the pattern as Zeke’s contact. “It’s Zeke,” you groan.

“Answer the phone, pretty girl.” Porco says with a devilish smirk.

“Wha-?!” Your face fills with terror.

“I said answer the phone.” Porco grows stricter in tone.

“O-ok” your hands shake as you make your way across the floor to where your purse was.” As you accept the call, Porco motions you back to the bed.

You nod, doing as he says.

“Hey princess,” Zeke says with a smile on the end of the phone.

“Hi,” you say shakily. Porco gives you a menacing look.

“Not feeling good?” Zeke refers to your text. 

You let out a shy “Nuh-uh” in response.

“I’m sorry baby,” Zeke says, “I can pick you up so you can spend the night with me in case you feel any worse.”

“No!-“ You say startled, “I mean, no, my girlfriends have me all bundled up back at my apartment.”

Silence from Zeke.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad.” He adds, “I wanted to make you feel a little better than they could tonight.”

You look at Porco, a little intimidated by his intense stare on you. He can hear Zeke’s toying with you from the other end of the phone. He nods, urging you to play along.

You giggle softly, a bad attempt at sounding sicker than usual.

“Really? How so?” Porco slides down the edge of the bed, focused on your legs.

Zeke clears his throat, obviously getting off at the anticipation of phone sex.

Some shuffling is heard on the other end of the phone before Zeke says, “You know, maybe cook you some food. That layered strawberry cake you like yeah?”

You hum in satisfaction, but quickly noticed how your approval angered Porco.

He aggressively pushes your legs apart, eyeing your wetness.

“Use that icing on you.” Zeke says, “Make you filthy when I run it over that pretty body of yours. I’d fucking lick it off you because you taste so good.”

Porco starts to kitten lick between your folds, earning a whimper from you.

You imagine Zeke piping the vanilla icing onto your torso as he pushes himself into you, smearing it across your breasts and stomach with his rough hands.

The pressure between your legs rises as the licks grow longer and rougher across your clit. Porco suckles on that bundle of nerves, and you can’t help but cry out a moan.

The sounds from Zeke’s side of the phone indicate he’s jerking off vigorously at this point. “Say my name, kitten.”

You look wildly down at Porco, who stops his motions to shake his head at you. No way he’d let you moan another man’s name on his own bed.

“Daddy,,” you drawl out. You earn approval from Porco, who resumes lapping at your pussy.

Porco taps your thigh, indicating to you that it was time to hang up on Zeke, who hadn’t cum yet. 

“Oh gosh, Zeke baby” you start, “One of the girls is coming in i have to go-“

“Wait, y/n-“ but you didn't let him finish. You sigh with relief knowing you can fully indulge in Porco now. He grips your thighs roughly, leaving bruises to be discovered tomorrow.

“What’s Zeke doing now, huh?” “Pumping his weak cock thinking about this tight little pussy of yours?” “I wonder what he’d think if he knew your pussy was taking my tongue so well right now. Acting like such a whore for somebody else.”

Porco pulls himself off of your sweaty body, panting and licking up your wetness. 

His eyes are dead set on you, and you felt small under his glare. His hands grab under your arms, quickly flipping your positions. “Bounce on me for it,” he growls.

You nod eagerly, situating yourself above him. Your face reddens as you align your entrance up to him, nervous about his judgement. 

Porco softens, noticing your hesitance, “It’s okay baby girl,” His warm hands caress the side of your cheek, thumb grazing your plump lips, “You’re doing really good,” Porco looks earnestly up at you, flashing you a soft grin. You press into his hold on you, strands of hair covering your forehead that tangled around Porco’s fingers.

You finally push yourself down on Porco’s length, his large girth stretching you full. Porco moans at the new feeling, and you can’t help but whimper at the burning pleasure. Your hands roam around Porco’s strong torso, feeling down his thick abs and rubbing circles into his sides. A low groan emits from his chest, and you admire his expressions from above.

You begin moving along his hard length, his tip hitting just the right spot each time. Keeping a slow pace, you tease Porco a little longer, but he’s quick to bark at you to go faster. You let out a playful giggle, “Okay, you’re the boss.” “Doing so good putting Zeke in his place, hm?”

Porco groans at your words, and you swore he was growing larger inside of you at the thought of demoting his Zeke.

Your movements quicken and Porco continues to let out strings of curses.

“Yeah ride my cock baby, just like that. Just like you do for Zeke.”

The thought of another man puts butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself falter. 

Porco doesn’t miss a beat, however. He quickly thrusts up into you, earning a gasp from your mouth. His hands fly to your sides, balancing you while he does all the work. You whimper at his rapid pace, nearing your climax.

“Porco,” you moan, “I-ah, g’nna cum.”

“Ok, baby,” he says in between thrusts, “Cum then.” 

That was all you needed to hear before spilling your release over Porco.

He continued to milk you out, eventually finishing not too long after. He lets you fall on top of his frame, palms rubbing circles into your and easing you from your high.

“Good job, y/n.” You lift your head up to look at Porco’s face. He smiles back at you tenderly. “Alright let’s clean you up.” 

He settles you on the bed next to his side and slides off the bed to grab a clean towel from the linen closet and discard the condom in the trash. You watch his muscle-y body move across the apartment floors, his clear focus on grabbing the right things for you. 

He comes back with an iced water and starts cleaning up your thighs. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you smile, “I can do it myself.”

He looks up at you, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, “What? No, I’m doing it.” He continues his work at cleaning you off. 

“..oh, ok.” You say shyly, butterflies in your stomach from his actions. 

“Does he not do this for you?” Porco asks, not looking up from fixing up the sheets below you.

You replied slowly, “No, not really.”

Porco sighed, “He’s such a selfish dick.”

You laugh at Porco’s attitude. But now that you think about it, Zeke was always thinking about himself. The thought passed as soon as it came, and you did consider the fact that he was paying you.

Porco nestled himself on the side of you after he was done, grunting a little from his tired state. His big arms hugged around your smaller body as he pulled you in close.

“Porco?” You called.

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” you muffled into his chest.

Porco blushed at your comment, but simply toughed it over and patted your ruffled hair, “Mhm”.

A few pings were heard from your cell phone as you drifted into sleep, no doubt from Zeke, and each time Porco pulled you in tighter. A smile curled crept onto your lips, “It’s not like I’m gonna leave, Pokko,” you giggled.

“Good,” he said, “I wasn’t planning on letting you anyways.”

[malleux]

☆ Day 1 - Prince Zhongli ☆

-> zhongli x fem!reader | royalty!au

-> fluff, conflict

-> warnings: mild cursing, fighting and blood, talk of human selling

-> “pick a prince” masterlist

a/n: day one! how’s everyone feeling about mr. zhongli? personally, i’m rather intrigued 👀 i hope you enjoy! sorry this is posted a little late at night, i didn’t realize how busy this week would be when i scheduled my event!

The library was somewhat of a safe space for you. It was where you ran when the burden of an entire country rested heavily upon your shoulders, giving you an outlet to simply live.

After the slightly traumatizing dinner your father had hosted with your seven suitors, you ran to the library. You knew your mother, who was also rather uneasy about the entire arrangement, was there and that provided yet another layer of comfort that you so desperately needed.

Your mother read stories to you that night- uplifting tales that did at least a little bit to lighten the mood you were in. She read book after book, not once stumbling over her words despite your tears staining the paper and making the words smear across. It was as if your mother had read these books to herself numerous times before, trying to comfort her own mind when she was put through a situation similar to your own.

She didn’t put down her books until you had cried yourself to sleep. Then, your mother gently laid you against the plush velvet of the couch, draped a light blanket over your form, and kissed your forehead, bidding you goodnight and wishing for a better tomorrow.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Um, excuse me?”

You scrunched up your nose and huffed, pulling your blanket closer.

“Princess? It’s well past morning. You may need to get up.”

Who the hell was talking to you?

Albeit reluctantly, you yawned and opened your eyes, sitting up to stretch. Suddenly, you were looking into a pair of amber eyes. They seemed to glow in the dim light of the library, looking at you with slight concern.

“Wh- who’s there?” You mumbled, scooting back on your seat to shy away from the man’s gaze.

“It’s- it’s Zhongli. Just Zhongli. We didn’t see you at breakfast, your father is a little upset.”

“Shit- I missed breakfast?” You were wide awake in an instant.

“Such language is rather unbecoming of a princess, don’t you think?” Zhongli’s smirk gave away his playful comment, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little as well. “Anyways, as far as your father is concerned, I saw you earlier this morning. You weren’t looking too well so I sent you to take a long bath to relax. After breakfast, you showed me the library, which leads us here.”

You sighed in relief, thankful that Zhongli had practically saved your ass from a long lecture. He outstretched his hand and you took it, allowing him to help you stand up fully.

“Why don’t we take a walk through the market? You can tell me more about yourself and spend some time away from the stressful castle life.” Zhongli offers.

“Gods, yes, please.” You agreed, and allowed the polite prince to whisk you out of the castle.

The market was bustling at this time of day. It was early enough for the sun to warm the faces of your citizens, but cool enough to not scorch those who may venture away from the shaded roofs of the market stalls. You held tightly onto Zhongli’s arm as he browsed the goods your kingdom had to offer.

“This is a beautiful necklace, Princess.” He held up a dainty neck piece, the emblem of your kingdom hanging delicately off of a small golden chain.

“Buy it then.” You mused. Zhongli had been window shopping for a while now, and yet you hadn’t seen him buy a single thing he claimed to like.

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible.”

“Uh, why?” You quirked an eyebrow. With how Zhongli acted and dressed, you were sure he’d be able to afford everything in the market twice.

“I, um, seem to lack the funds.”

Maybe not.

“Aren’t you a prince? Shouldn’t you have money?”

“I suppose- anyhow, look at the gems over in this stall. Do you believe they’re real, or are your citizens being scammed by a merchant?”

He was avoiding the question.

You didn’t understand. If he was a prince, then his financial situation should be rather promising, right? What was there to hide? Unless, he wasn’t actually a prince?

No, you shook your head. Your father wouldn’t have invited him to the castle if his background was even slightly sketchy.

Where did he go?

Zhongli had disappeared from the gem stall he was at previously. You looked around the area, trying to scout him out. He should have been easy to find, standing out amongst the rather bland clothes of your citizens, but you saw nothing.

You began getting a little worried. You were dressed down, wearing a cloak and a hood that shadowed your face from most people’s views, but you were still a beautiful young woman. Even your lovely kingdom wasn’t a stranger to crimes.

Pushing forward, you started to make your way through the crowd. You considered just going back to the castle, but Zhongli didn’t know his way back. You had to find him. The only way he could’ve gone without you noticing was forward. Your forcefulness while moving through the market streets didn’t go unnoticed as people began giving you glares, whispering harsh comments as you shoved past. You couldn’t care less, you were on a mission to find Zhongli and go home-

“Shit!”

You cursed as arm shot out and grabbed your bicep, yanking you between two stalls and into a narrow alleyway. Even more hands grabbed at your clothes and mouth, trying to keep you from yelling out.

“You look like you’ve got it real good.” A harsh voice spoke against your ear. You shuddered. A cold object rubbed against your cheek and you felt a contrasting warmth trickle down to your chin. Whether it was blood or the tears you were trying to hold back, you couldn’t tell.

“What’s in that nice little sachel you’ve got there?” Another hand grabbed at the bag around your torso. “I bet you’d be just fine without it.”

He pulled it off of you and threw it to the ground, letting a third man rummage through it. You stayed quiet, afraid to let out even a whimper as the first man pulled the hood of your cloak back. You heard his breath hitch a little bit.

“Now this is a sight.” You could hear the smirk in his words. “The little princess, all alone, with no knight in shining armor to help her. Forget the bag, she’ll go for a pretty penny worth way more than anything in that shitty old thing. C’mon, Princess, let’s get movin’.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Tears of relief fell from your eyes now at the sight of the very man who had inadvertently gotten you into this situation in the first place. He stood in the entrance of the alleyway, the sun shining behind him as if he were some god, appearing for the first time to come save you. Some broke, secretive, oddly polite god.

The first man sneered. “Yeah? What are you gonna do? Can’t get that dandy little suit of yours dirty.”

Zhongli practically scoffed. “I could deal with you lot without even wrinkling it.”

He rolled his sleeves up. “Let’s see about that.”

He charged at Zhongli, swinging his fist wildly at the prince’s face. Zhongli dodged the punch, stretching his leg out and sweeping the man’s legs out from under him. He fell to the cobblestone beneath him and Zhongli stepped on his chest, pressing his weight onto his body until he was gripping his ankle, begging for a break.

The second man came next, leaving the third, scrawniest man to try and hold you back. While Zhongli was dealing with him, you snapped your head back and smashed into his nose. The guy let go and grabbed onto the definitely-broken cartilage, practically helpless as you swung at his face again.

You backed up from him and ran into someone’s chest, jumping when their arms wrapped around your shoulders once more.

“Easy, Princess.” Zhongli’s deep voice immediately soothed your guard. “I apologize for losing you.”

You turned around. “I lost you.”

“No, no,” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small bag, handing it to you. “I thought you were occupied looking at the gems, so I snuck away to get this. I didn’t realize you’d go all over looking for me.”

Zhongli placed the bag in your hands and you opened it up. In it, the necklace he had shown you earlier. You smiled at him and held it out to him, turning around so that he could put it on. The feeling of Zhongli’s fingers against your bare neck sent a small shiver up your spine- one you wouldn’t mind feeling again.

“Thank you, Zhongli.” You smiled at him, “But, if you didn’t have any money, how did you get this?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” The prince replied. “Come, you’ve had an eventful day. I think tea and a nap is in order.”

He held his arm out for you once more and you took it, leading the way back to the castle. You couldn’t help but gaze at the man through the side of your eye, grateful for the sweet gift.

You quit wondering how he bought it when you noticed that he was only wearing one expensive earring, as opposed to the two he had started out his day with.

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[firefly-in-darkness]

Smooth

Pairing → Sam Wilson x Reader

Characters → Marvel 

Summary → Y/N has to fight off the smile and laughter at Sam Wilson’s chat up lines throught their relationship but here are a few of their milestones.

Word Count → 3.7k

Prompt → Trope: 5 Things Plus 1 for @bonkywobble​ challenge - congrats on your follower milestone lovely!

SSB2021 Square Fill → Posted at the end of the story as it’s a spoiler // @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → Fluff, sweet, tooth-rotting fluff. Cheesy chat up lines.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo​ // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my first proper Sam Wilson fic - I have done one in the past but there was more platonic - so I hope you enjoy this story!

Firefly’s Masterlist 

Sam Wilson couldn’t believe his luck, he’d signed up to the right gym, that’s for sure. There was the most beautiful woman standing at the opposite wall with a group of women. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she instructed the class. It was like he was hypnotised, but at least he was happy about it. Her figure was strong, and she commanded the attention of the women with ease and a stunning smile that made her eyes sparkle.

He dropped his bag onto the floor and folded his arms, as he watched on in wonder while she instructed them to loosen up with various stretches. The way her body bent and twisted into the poses was enough to make him stir under the belt.

Lost in his daydream, Sam didn’t realise the instructor had turned away from the class and walked in his direction. Lost in the sight of her plump lips and then he realised that she was looking at him. No, not just looking, her lips were moving. She was talking to him. He snapped out of his haze and apologised for not hearing.

“Are you here to assist with the self-defence class?” Her eyebrow raised at him, slight confusion on her face.

Now that she was in his personal space, Sam felt nervous. He was usually so quick and an absolute charmer with women. Well, with most people, young and old. He’d get himself out of any situation and this is when he needed his wits about him.

“Uhm- No, I think there’s something wrong with my eyes.” Sam wrinkled his nose and cringed at his train of thought.

The woman looked at him with widening fear and reached out to take his arm, “Right, okay, what do you need? What’s wrong?”

The feel of her soft skin warmed his arm in an instant, a tingle bloomed across his cheeks. Then he refocused back on his plan, even if it could potentially end badly, he wanted to charm her.

“I just can’t take them off you.” Sam grinned, but it dropped when he saw the scowl, she was giving him. 

Suddenly the most beautiful sound came from the woman, the laugh that fell from her lips made him feel like a cloud, completely soft and weightless. And the sight of her head thrown back brought the grin back to his face. It worked.

“But I am more than happy to help out with the class.” Sam’s smile didn’t drop but his heart raced at the thought of his offer being rejected.

“Oh, you are definitely helping out now.” grabbed his bicep and brought him to the front of the group. “Now ladies, this is-”

“Sam” He waved and gave them a lopsided smile. “Sam Wilson.”

“Sam is going to be our test dummy for today’s session.” Y/N grabbed a [added vest and handed it to him, “now put this on and be a good boy so these Ladies can practice kneeing someone in the stomach.”

“What? I thought you were going to wrestle me or something.”

“Nuh-uh, good luck sugar.” She grinned.

“Wait, do I get to know your name?” Sam asked as he pulled on the vest.

“You can call me Boss Lady.” She replied and returned to the group of women.

Sam didn’t miss the teasing smirk she sent his way as she walked away and discussed the techniques with the women that were lining up to practise their recently learned moves on him. He was glad he had this padded vest and years of training in the army to deal with the blows about to come his way.

At least he got to meet her, see that stunning smile, and hear that beautiful laugh. It was all worth it.

Y/N stroked her fingers through her hair, a failed attempt to tame the flyaway while giving herself a once over in the pocket mirror. Nerves swirled in her stomach as the Uber approached the Italian restaurant. She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, she hadn’t been on a date in over a year and she had only known this guy for a few weeks through an online dating app.

The maître-d took her coat then led her to an empty table, leaving her to browse the drinks menu. Y/N wasn’t fazed by being here before him, she was a little earlier than planned and decided to order a glass of wine.

Yet, the minutes ticked by. Y/N sipped on her drink, eyes focused on the entrance for any sign of her date but after twenty minutes and an ignored message, she decided to ask the waitress to clear the reservation and bring over the cheque for her wine. She wasn’t going to sit there any longer, waiting for someone that wasn’t going to arrive.

Feeling scorned by being stood up, she left the restaurant in a flurry but tried to remain composed and swiftly began to walk down the block to the busier part of town to hail a taxi. But before she reached the end of the sidewalk an illuminated sign across the street caught her attention. Compound. It was the place that Sam had mentioned to her earlier in the week when they were at the gym. 

They’d formed a good friendship over the last few months and with a few of the other regulars at the gym. Sam had invited Y/N alongside Bucky and Nat who were personal trainers at the gym. Y/N knew them well but had declined the invite to the bar that was now opposite her. She made up an excuse, unsure as to why she lied about needing to go to her parents.

But now that she was here, she might as well put the time she had in getting ready to good use. She could just think of some other excuse and pretend like the evening hadn’t started as badly as it did. With a renewed surge of confidence, she skipped across the street and entered the bar.

It was busy but considering it was a Friday night, most people ventured further into town for a night out. She spotted Bucky and one of his best clients, Steve, at one of the pool tables in the corner. Bucky had just broken the set and Steve moved to take his shot. That’s when Y/N saw that Natasha was here too, almost hidden from view by the muscular giant that was Steve. Y/N was sure that Natasha never looked less than radiant, she never looked out of place anywhere. She was perfect.

Y/N removed her coat and hooked it up, uncertainty starting to worry her about turning up unannounced. She shook it off and walked over to the bar to grab a round of beers to take over to the table, she couldn’t go over there empty-handed.

At the sound of her name being called, she turned around to see Bucky, his signature smile on his lips and arms opened wide to welcome her in a light hug.

“Hi Buck, parents didn’t need me so thought I’d gate crash.” Y/N grinned and held up the bottles, “And I have beers.”

“Always welcome. But we need one more.” Bucky gestured over to the table, the new addition at the table was Sam.

An unexpected rush of butterflies assaulted Y/N’s stomach as she ordered the remaining beer and walked over to the bar with Bucky in tow. She greeted everyone, pausing as she approached Sam. This was the first time she’d seen him in something other than gym clothes and she appreciated the form-fitting shirt that hugged at his muscular arms.

“Somebody call the cops because it’s got to be illegal to look that good!” Sam bellowed out and held out his arms, gesturing up and down her body.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that erupted and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was glad that her date had stood her up because now she was able to enjoy the night with friends that wanted her to be around. Plus, who doesn’t love a confidence boost from a handsome guy?

Even though Sam used the most ridiculous lines to get Y/N’s attention, something was charming about him. It was a confidence boost for sure and when later that night, he asked her on a date, she secretly hoped that it was going to lead to something more. Even if the rational voice in her head told her not to get attached too soon.

Sam couldn’t believe his luck; they were on their fifth date and Y/N had invited him up to her apartment for coffee. Of course, he hoped it was code for sex. But honestly, he didn’t mind if that didn’t happen, he just wanted to spend more time with Y/N. She was great company, had a wicked sense of humour and was genuinely fun to be around.

Nerves bubbled in Sam’s stomach while he waited for Y/N to return with their drinks. He had sat on the cosy couch that was adorned with plush cushions and the softest blanket he’d ever felt but he needed to distract himself from the butterflies somersaulting in his stomach. A display of photographs and memorabilia adorning one of the walls caught his eye and he wandered over.

Several photographs of Y/N with different groups of people; at festivals, out for dinner, on vacation. Some of the frames had ticket stubs tucked into them, the other frames had ornaments hanging from them or polaroids stuck to the corners. It was a collage of happiness and colour. He couldn’t help the smile that formed as he thought of all the possibilities of their dating heading towards making memories like this, together.

Sam returned to the couch and Y/N placed the cups onto the coffee table. He noticed the change in her body language; she smoothed down her skirt several times, a coy smile played on her lips as she sipped on the drink. He grinned, she was on the same page as him and maybe just as nervous.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Sam’s voice gained her attention, “I’m happy to wait and see where things go if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled, she looked as if the weight of the world had been taken off her shoulders and then she plunged towards him. Their lips met in a heated kiss; Sam was shocked at the sudden change of pace, but he couldn’t resist the need to feel her body pressed up against him.

They both pulled back for air, and Sam brushed his knuckles against her cheek, “I guess that means you do want to do something.”

Y/N bit her lip and shuffled backwards, straightened up and gestured for him to follow her to the bedroom. Sam kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie in the doorway, completely enamoured by Y/N while she removed her heels. 

“Sam, can you help?” Y/N looked behind and pulled her hair over her shoulder, exposing the zip that she couldn’t quite reach the top of the dress.

Slowly, the zip glided down, showing a hint of the black lace underwear. Sam looked up to the ceiling, thanking God for the beauty before him. She turned around and began unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers delicate and features focused on the clothing. But there seemed to be an air of nervousness coming from her.

Sam tipped up her chin before she could finish undressing him. He kissed her lightly, in hope to ease her, comfort her. 

Their lips parted and he rested his forehead against Y/N’s, “as I said, we don’t have to do anything.”

Y/N nodded and guided him to the foot of the bed to take a seat, “I’m okay. It’s just been a while.”

Sam was in a similar situation and didn’t want his nerves to add to the concern that was already laced on her features as she stood in front of him, “We’ll do this at your pace.”

She nodded, a smile now taking over her features as she removed her arms from the sleeves of her dress and letting it pool at her feet. Sam’s mouth dropped agape as he took in her all beauty; the soft skin that curved and dipped in exquisite ways. 

His hands rubbed at his thighs and looked back up to the woman who approached cautiously, a smirk on his face, “I hope you know CPR because you are taking my breath away.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip and straddled his lap, “I think I’m pretty good at mouth to mouth.”

Sam held her waist with one hand, the other exploring and massaging the exposed skin of her thighs, her hips and stomach before he reached for her neck. Their lips crashed together, and they shuffled up the mattress, exposing more of their bodies and letting passion guide them through the remainder of the night.

The episode of The Big Bang Theory played in the background, Y/N was too occupied with painting her toenails, her feet rested on the coffee table as she tugged up her sweatpants for the fifth time in the hopes to not smudge the polish.

Sam had been in the bedroom for ten minutes, putting on an outfit that he needed Y/N’s approval on. At least they’d ordered food before he went in there because otherwise, Y/N would have consumed everything in his fridge which didn’t consist of much other than a block of cheese and a bottle of vodka.

The buzz at the intercom made her jump but luckily there were no smudges to her newly pampered feet.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N shouted from the lounge of Sam’s apartment and headed to the front door to wait for the delivery person. She handed the guy some bills and a little tip before hitting the door shut with her hip.

Y/N held onto the pizza boxes and bottle of soda tightly and cautiously made her way down the hall. She waited for Sam to appear, but he still hadn’t come out of his bedroom. It was getting a bit ridiculous now.

“Sam, hurry up or your food is going to go cold.” She called and poured out the drinks.

“What do you think?” Sam asked as he entered the room, arms wide as he twirled slowly.

Sam was in a crisp white shirt, smart black trousers, and a suit jacket. The bowtie was a little crooked, but it made his sheepish grin all that more endearing to her.

“A little formal for movie night don’t you think?” She smirked and dipped an onion ring into the garlic sauce.

“Thought it might impress you.” Sam grinned at her, “Thought it would bring a bit more class to the charity gala. We need to raise money for the community centre.”

“Well, I think you look rather handsome and I’m sure someone will bid a lot of money on you.” Y/N’s eyes squinted at him, for being reminded that Sam was being auctioned off alongside Steve and Bucky for dates to the rich women of New York.

Y/N knew they weren’t exclusive, but she knew they weren’t dating other people, they just hadn’t talked about that. It had only been a couple of months since their first date and as much as Y/N was enjoying Sam’s company, she didn’t want to rush into anything or mistake how she felt and that it was unreciprocated.

“Do you know what my shirt is made of?” Sam walked towards her and knelt to be at her eye level, “Boyfriend material. Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek then stood back up to return to the bedroom while Y/N remained glued to the spot, eyes wide at the way he’d casually pulled off another cheesy line and quietened her insecurities in one swift movement. She was falling, hard.

Sam pulled the van into the driveway, feeling giddy at the sight of Y/N standing on the porch with their realtor. The sun beamed down onto Y/N’s skin, an ethereal glow as she spoke animatedly with Phil, probably talking his ear off about the cost of hiring a van themselves in comparison to hiring a removals company.

It had taken them a while to get here but Sam was over the moon to be where they were now. Everything came into alignment, apart from the odd bump in the road. But after many sleepless nights, a last-minute scramble for cash and only a few days to pack up their separate lives; they were finally moving into their dream home. 

They had talked about this for months, both unsure to take the leap when viewing different houses until this one came along. The minute they walked into the place, it felt like home. It was vacant and they were able to imagine what it would look like with their belongings; where the sofa would look best in the lounge or which room should be the guest bedroom or office space.

Of course, the kitchen was Sam’s favourite place, it was open planned and the best for socialising and he couldn’t wait for everyone to come round for a barbecue as the French doors opening onto a patio that stretched into a neat lawn. Perfect for hosting their friends this summer.

“Did you get lost pumpkin?” Y/N smiled at him.

“Never, I’m like a homing pigeon when it comes to you.” Sam chuckled, “are we ready now Phil?”

The middle-aged man that had a childlike spark, gave him a curt nod, and headed into the property, “Right this way.”

The papers were signed, and all that was left was to be handed over the keys so that they could begin unloading their belongings. The atmosphere was charged with excitement as Phil placed a set of keys into Y/N’s hands.

“Be careful with those.” Sam gave her a lopsided smirk and a raised brow.

“I’m not going to lose them!” She retaliated.

“Yeah, but this one,” Sam pointed to one of the keys, “is a special one.”

Y/N turned to him, brows knitted together in confusion, “what are you going on about Sam?”

Sam placed his hands on her shoulders, focusing her attention on him. His face lined with seriousness, “It’s the key to my heart.” 

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him.

“Nailed it!” Phil said as he high fived Sam, “Now, I will leave you lovely pair to get acquainted with your new home.”

Y/N placed the keys onto the kitchen island and looked out onto the garden. Sam’s arms wrapped around her waist; his chest pressed tightly to her back.

“We did it, baby girl,” Sam whispered into her ear and lightly pecked her cheek.

“That we did.” She turned her head to capture his lips with her own.

Y/N grabbed the plates, shoving them into the dishwasher while Sam waved Steve and Peggy off from the front door. It was a good date night, regardless of the lack of wine. Peggy was almost ready to burst with the twins that had wriggled constantly in her belly. They’d finally decided on a name but refused to tell Y/N or Sam.

“Anything else I need to do, baby girl?” Sam asked as he returned to the kitchen.

“All done in here.” Y/N yawned, “Think it’s time for bed.”

Sam’s face dropped for a split second, but Y/N spotted it. She wandered round to his side of the room and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers massaging the back of his head.

“What’s up?” She asked, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

A grin formed on his lips, the warmth spreading to her in an instant, shared happiness was a beautiful feeling.

“I was just thinking that I don’t think there’s anything I’d like to change about you.” He swayed your body to the music that filtered through from the music dock in the living room.

“So why the grumpy face?” Y/N pouted and squeezed his cheeks together; lips mushed into a dramatic grimace. 

“Because I realised there was something I’d like to change,” Sam mumbled through your hold on his face.

Y/N pulled away instantly, her hands dropping to her side as anger began to bubble under her skin, “excuse me?”

Sam tugged her by the waist, keeping her close, “Let me finish.”

She relaxed the tension in her body and placed her hands back on his chest, the annoyance still simmering but less noticeable. Sam’s fingers traced soft lines up and down her back until she gave in and placed her head on his shoulder.

“Now, where was I? Ah yes, the one thing I’d change about you.” He spluttered as Y/N hit him on the arm, lightly but still effective. “The only thing would be your last name.”

Y/N cringed at the chat-up line and pulled away, breaking their hold in favour of turning out the lights in the kitchen before re-joining him but he was nowhere to be seen when she turned around. The sudden silence had her on edge as she headed to the lounge to find Sam kneeling in front of her, his hand raised with a velvet box.

She gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth, he was being serious. He wasn’t using some cheesy chat-up line, well he was, but he was doing this! Y/N squealed internally, the sudden realisation that Sam was talking had her snapping up to his eyes.

The gorgeous brown brimming with tears as he told her how much he loved her, “I want you in my life always baby girl, will you be my wife?”

“Yes!” she responded, throwing her arms around his neck as he spun her around the room. 

Y/N pressed kiss after kiss to every place she could, their salty tears mixing in with their passion. Sam pulled back with a chuckle, he took her left hand and placed the sparkling ring onto her finger.

He might have used his cheesy pick-up lines to get to this point, but Y/N loved every single one. Especially this one.

The End.

SSB2021 Square Fill → Proposal // @star-spangled-bingo

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7​ / @fandomfic-galore​ / @writerwrites​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @wedonttalkaboutitenough​ / @courtneychicken​

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ / @little-baby-vixen​ / @stuckonjbbarnes​ / @starlightcrystalline​ / @nekoannie-chan​ / @hailhydra920​ / @vollzeitliebe​ / @fitzsimmons-is-forever​ / @ladyacrasia​ / @emmabarnes​

[blu-archer]

Sharing is Caring?

Just some more AU sickness because why not?

snz based

Sickie: Tae - mild Jimin

Caretaker: Jimin [kind of?]

m/m [squinting at Yoonmin] and mentions of what I’m poorly portraying as ace. I’ve never tried to write about it before so forgive any misrepresentation please..

anyway...

Apart of this little universe; Flower shop and Bakery au 

This piece mostly felt like me rambling, but it was kind of fun so I’m posting it.. sorry for any errors

-

-

Taehyung sniffled as discretely as possible as he wondered through the isles of the large supermarket, doing his best to avoid people even though he had made sure to grab a face mask before leaving the apartment to avoid spreading his germs. Technically they could be considered Jimin’s germs… but he wasn’t one to blame his platonic soulmate.

After all, they lived together. This outcome was inevitable.

 So he hovered awkwardly through the store trying to move as quickly as possible by grabbing immediate necessities rather than the usual browsing of the shelves. And after the desperate sneezes that had surprised him by the canned foods and had kicked his headache into 5th gear, he wanted nothing more than to already be at home and back in bed.  

The photographer paused a bit away from the freezer holding the ready-made meals – something that had become a must-have for the pair if they wanted to survive living together – waiting for the few people there to finish before he made his own snatch. He blinked lazily at the rows of boxes that he could just barely make out. He would have to grab a few, they hadn’t done ‘grocery’ shopping for the month and it had come back to bite them. The few supplies he’d gotten days before had dwindled to nothing in a blink of an eye. He’d woken up that morning looking for food so he could take his next dose of medication and had been met with a small portion of days old take out from the noodle place down the street and what was left of the soup Jimin’s boss had dropped off for him after he’d called in sick.

And Tae was getting really tired of soup, despite only being on his second day of feeling like warm death.

So he had taken the courageous, probably mildly stupid, step to go shopping. They needed more tissues anyway, and he didn’t really know anyone in the area that well yet despite having moved a few months ago so it’s not like he could make a plea for help.

Jimin had been thoroughly knocked out in his bed with a mound of extra blankets that hadn’t moved from their place since Yoongi had put them there after bringing the smaller man home from work the day before. So Taehyung had just scribbled a brief note and pinned it onto his door so that Jimin would know where he was if the slim chance of the elder waking up did actually happen.

A gap formed as a couple broke away from the freezer and Tae swiftly slipped in front of it, muffling a cough into his arm before he made a move to slide open the glass top. Taehyung was jolted from his actions as something – a body, definitely a small body – crashed into his legs, immediately reaching out with one hand to steady the child that wobbled upon impact even though his own balance wavered drastically. Thank god for fast reflexes, if he hadn’t dropped his basket and rested his hand on the freezer then he probably would’ve fallen straight on his ass. That would have been almost as embarrassing as the canned food isle incident just minutes before. This day just wasn’t getting better.

He had just barely looked down at the small boy who had almost caused his next disaster when his foggy attention was dragged away to the next rapidly approaching figure.

 “Sehjoon!” An exasperated voice snapped before the small boy was pulled from Tae’s weak grasp. “I’m so sorry, he’s wild. Did he-“The man’s eye widened a bit and then he smiled, losing some of the tension in his body. “Its Taehyung, right? Jimin’s new roommate?”

 Tae blinked, nodding slowly although he couldn’t really be considered ‘new’ since a few months had already passed, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d shared a space with Jimin. The man looked familiar, and he clearly knew who he was, which meant he was probably one of Jimin’s friends from work. Taehyung tried not to feel too bad about not remembering whose name went with which face, he was often busy with his own work when Jimin would tell him about what happened during his working hours, so he couldn’t be expected to remember too many details. It was a similar situation when he tried to explain to Jimin the different editing terms while trying to perfect whatever photos he had done. He couldn’t count the numbers of times he’d just watched his best friends eyes glaze over with some familiar vague nodding.

 “I’m Hoseok, we met a while back when you first moved here.”

The man seemed to ooze happiness as he picked the boy up to rest him on his hip. Taehyung shuffled on his feet. He was a little unsure of what to say next. Usually he didn’t struggle with making conversation, but his head felt like it was filled with cotton, he couldn’t be faulted for this flaw of character right now.

 “Sorry,” Hoseok chuckled, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “Jimin speaks about you all the time and even Jungkook and Jin mention you every once it in a while, it kind of feels like I know you.”

 “Uh…oh. Yeah. Jimin speaks about you a lot too.” Tae replied, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His voice coming out deeper and with the beginnings of the congestion he’d hoped wouldn’t come so soon in the day. He cleared his throat in hopes that it would help. “The florist, right? With Yoongi?”

 It clearly didn’t help.

Hoseok’s smile faltered, turning more sympathetic. As if he had quickly pieced the obvious together.

 “Yeah, that’s me.” He shifted the boy on his hip when small hands grappled to be let down. Hoseok dropped his smile for a moment to give a stern look of disapproval that seemed to work like a spell over the boy as he went silent and placid in the mans hold. “I’m sorry about Sehjoon here. My sister asked me to look after him for the day and I think she both underestimates my babysitting capabilities and overestimates her sons behaviour. I was actually sent out of work for a bit because Yoongi needed a break from this level of chaos… Hey, he didn’t hurt you or anything right?”

 “Oh, no. No.” Tae gave a croaky laugh that irritated his throat. It already felt rough from the amount of coughing he’d done during the night and it appeared that he was nowhere close to being done with that. Turning away, he coughed deeply into his arm, twisting away despite wearing a mask, and winced at the spark of pain that had shot into him. God, he was so over this cold. “Sorry. He barrelled into me, but he would probably be at more risk of hurting himself than me. Has a hard head though. Definitely able to knock some people out with that.”

 That brought a bubble of sudden laughter from the other man that left Tae slightly bemused and yet, it was an odd feeling watching Hoseok laugh. A warmth of sorts spread over Taehyung when the man tossed his head back and seemed to glow as his shoulders shook. It was more contagious than Jimin’s illness and Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the man as he began to tease his nephew shamelessly about being a new weapon of destruction. The boy simply whined and curled his head into Hoseok’s neck, apparently not seeing the same humour as his uncle.

  “I should get him a leash to be honest.” Hoseok joked, but Tae had a feeling the glint in the mans eyes meant he was deeply considering it.

 Taehyung didn’t really know how to reply so he just nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the freezer, recollecting his basket before just grabbing a few different meals at random and tossing them in with the juice and tissues he’d already gotten. Whatever it was he and Jimin would eat it whether they liked it or not. He had been out longer than he wanted to be by now and he wasn’t wasting more time on things that they probably wouldn’t taste much of anyway considering how this cold was progressing.

 “Not much of a cook?”

 Tae glanced to Hoseok who seemed to be shifting his weight as he looked towards the meals casually.

Sniffing lightly, Taehyung tried to suppress the desire to rub at his nose through the mask. He shrugged, his hand moving up to brush some hair from his eyes. “Never really learned. Jimin can’t either, but this is better than living off of take out.”

 “I can see Jin rolling in his figurative grave.” Hoseok chuckled. “If you want I can mention to Jungkook how I ran into you,  despite you clearly not feeling well. I can guarantee that you and Jimin will get visited by Yoongi and Jin with at least a months-worth of premade meals to be frozen because they heard from Jungkook that you were both malnourished and possibly dying.”

 He blushed at the call out on being sick, but to be fair, he hadn’t thought he’d run into anyone that would actually talk to him or that this store would be so busy during work hours. He also didn’t doubt Jungkook’s ability to exaggerate, Jimin had told him about some previous examples that had at the time probably caused Jin a lot of stress. It mostly seemed innocent but very few could look into Jungkook’s eyes and not believe everything he tells them. Tae had only just started speaking to him more and he already knew that.

“Please don’t. I can’t even bear to look at soup after these past few days and I have a feeling that would be a strong contender of what one would give a sick person.” Against his original will, he rubbed a finger to his nose as it twitched with an itchy irritation. “I need to get home actually; we had no food left so I should try to get back before Jimin wakes up. And I am about ready to sleep for the next week.”

 “Oh wow. So you really are in need of pre-made meals filled with some love and care.” Hoseok’s voice dipped into one similar to how he had teased his nephew. “Well, I won’t keep you then. You should get home and rest, but if you want to take me up on sending the s.o.s. message for food delivery, Jimin has my number.”

 Taehyung thanked the elder man shakily, and even managed to get a small wave bye from the boy, barely having time to hear the small apology for bumping into him before he abruptly turned away and buried his face into his elbow.

 H’EESH..hH’HEGXSHhh..

 There was a startled ‘oh’ and then deep chuckles. Taehyung winced as he gave a liquid sniff with a low groan, feeling even more congested than before.

 “ ‘cuse ‘be.”

 “Bless you,” Hoseok laughed with a hand instinctively holding his nephew closer. He dipped his head in a small bow. “Sorry, it’s not funny. That sounded awful, but I got a fright and now I feel dumb for jumping.”

 If he had blushed before, then this was him setting himself alight. That had never happened before, he’d never scared someone with his sneeze. Jimin was never going to let him live that down.

 “I’ll leave you be now,” the man grinned. “Go home and get some rest. But when you feel better we should hang out some time. Jimin speaks about you all the time and I just think it would be great to see more of you… like with everyone. Welcome you to the city properly.”

 “I…yeah. Okay.” Taehyung brushed his hands through his hair and took a starting step back, trying to hold back any more sniffling. “I’ll see you around then.”

 “Feel better soon, Taehyung, and get home safely.”

 ******************* 

HEESHHU..H’HIESHH…snfff.. … Heh..h..hhh..HHeGXTCHh…hnnxgGTSCHew!... nghHEHHSHH!!!

 Taehyung panted out hot hitchy breaths as the tissue box was set in front of him as an offering. He laid a hand on the box to take it, his other hand hovered desperately over his face as he geared up for the next sneeze. His teary eyes had barely blinked open before they were forced shut once more, his throat and head pulsed with each sneeze that ripped out of him.

 “Ble-e’hh-hh-ss yo-uishhhiew.. H’ingxtshh… hih’itishhew!”

 Taehyung grabbed a few tissues and let Jimin keep the box as the elder coughed and crumpled into the seat beside him, before following Tae’s example of blowing his nose tiredly.  

 After shopping, Taehyung had managed a slow drive back to the apartment with multiple stops to tear open one of the tissue boxes he’d bought. It hadn’t helped much, and he had felt progressively worse as the minutes ticked by until he’d made it into the house, where he had promptly collapsed onto the couch with his tissues – only having to get up again to dump the food he’d bought in the fridge and freezer before sluggishly dragging himself to the couch once more..

When he’d been coaxed awake by Jimin gently shaking his shoulder, he had been met with a dim early afternoon sun and a plate a steamy food that had definitely been nuked in the microwave for longer than necessary. And from there they hadn’t really moved much, other than Jimin having forced some medicine into them and making tea before joining Tae on the couch.

There was some drama playing softly on their tv, but neither of them really had the energy to focus on it properly and Tae could barely hear the dialogue anyway once the congestion in his sinuses began to interfere with his ears. Jimin had dragged in a blanket from his room and draped it over both of them as Tae added to the pile of used tissues that had begun to form on the floor in front of them. Nothing seemed to stop the constant tickle that plagued him, nor his noses inability to do what he wanted. Tae was considering just stuffing his nose with tissues at this point. Since the trip to the supermarket his nose had turned into a mess that was seemingly draining the life out of him. Jimin had assured him that despite what he thought, it would get better, but he was sure that his friend was just trying to be his usual hopeful self. Always ready to reassure and look out for him.

At least they were suffering together. That was an upside. Jimin claimed to be feeling a lot better than the day before and it seemed to be mostly true, he was definitely being more active than Tae wanted to be. Although that could also have just a factor of the smaller man sleeping like the dead for almost 20 hours and Taehyung thinking it was wise to leave the apartment earlier. He was just deeply glad that he wasn’t alone again.

 Tae hated being alone. Even when he was well, he’d tried living by himself before and it had eaten at him mentally. It’s a big reason why he had convinced Jimin to find a new apartment that they could share when he switched towns, instead of just finding a cheap single flat somewhere. Thankfully his Soulmate had been searching for something already, so he didn’t feel like too much of an inconvenience. Jimin had always teased him relentlessly for needing people but never wanting relationships, always just content with a friend to cuddle up to or hang out with. Yet watching Jimin and others grow into bonds and commitments always made him doubt. Jimin meant well with his chirps and edgy teasing, but it always made Taehyung worry about his future.

What would he do when Jimin finally moved on in life? It’s not like anyone would want to invest in a person that would never give themselves entirely to a partner... He would never fall into the trap of letting someone take what he didn’t want to give again, yet that was all everyone seemed to want from him. … Maybe he’d start up a cuddle site, or a hug program, he’ll think of a way to get the skin ship he needed without being a bother or a hazard to himself.

 “You’re thinking too loud again…” Jimin whined hoarsely and sunk into Tae’s side, rubbing his cheek into the other shoulder as he curled into him. “Your brainwaves are hurting mine.”

 “You’d need a brain to have brainwaves, you’ll be fine.” Tae mumbled as he ran a tissue under his nose with a sniff and yelped out a weary laugh when Jimin pinched at his ribs.  

 “Asshole.” The elder snipped, but the smile in his voice was evident.

  It took no prompt for Jimin to snuggle even deeper into Taehyung’s embrace, relishing in the warmth despite the dampness that had begun to seep through Tae’s shirt. It would probably be wise for them both to get in the shower – at the very least to rinse off their sweat and germs – but they were far too comfortable to move. Tae felt as if his body had become moulded into the seat and the heat that was created between himself, Jimin and their blanket; paired with the medication he’d taken, only made him dozier. Even as his mind raced through various what-ifs of the future, his eyes gradually drifted shut up before jerking open with any sound or movement. Soft hands brushed soothingly up his side, edging him closer to sleep with low humming, and just as his eyes closed again there was a sharp knock at the door that caused both of them to groan.

 “If we ignore it, they might think we’re not here.” Jimin whispered.

 Ah…H’ERSHH! ..

 “Never-“

 HE’ETCHSHH!!

 “… Never mind. Thank you Taetae.”

.

.

“Sorry..”

Another softer, more hesitant knock sounded through the apartment as Jimin pushed himself to his feet and handed control of the tissue box to Tae solemnly. He accepted it more desperately than he would have liked, but Jimin wasn’t going to judge him considering he’d been in the same situation just the day before.

 With a reluctant sigh, Jimin tried not to shiver against the loss of heat. “I’ll go see who it is then.”

  The photographer pushed himself up to sit cross legged instead off slouched down in the seat while Jimin left the room, so he could blow his nose as productively as he possible. Although his nose ached after so much blowing and he had immediately tumbled into a bout of coughing that had left him gasping and spitting into a tissue with a grimace, so he couldn’t really call it all that productive when it ultimately made him feel worse. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn before considering just going to sleep anyway. From the front door he could vaguely make out Jimin’s voice – deeper and scratchier than usual – as he spoke with familiarity.

 Hopefully it wasn’t their neighbour. She had been hounding them about tidying up their balcony that, quite frankly, wasn’t that bad. Sure, it had way too many dead and dying plants and the chair out there had definitely seen better days, but if she didn’t like seeing it, she didn’t have to go out of her way to look. It wasn’t like they shared it.  

He leaned his head back to rest on the back of the couch and shut his eyes once more, trying to force himself to sink into sleep, yet it was now low grumbling and airy giggles kept him from rest. Irritated, he shifted so that he lay curled up on his side, tossing his heavy limbs around until he’d managed to get the soft, fluffy blanket over his body completely and tucked under his chin. Now if Jimin could get back so that he could at least have someone to cling onto, then he’d be ecstatic.

 Muffled coughing grew closer until Taehyung heard Jimin call out to him just loud enough to not disturb his penetrating, consistent headache.

 “Look,” Jimin practically collapsed on top of the photographer holding a small bouquet. He slid off quickly when the force of the landing set off Taehyung’s own thicker and hoarser coughs. “Sorry but look what Yoongi brought.”

 Ah… so there was a definite hold on the ‘cuddle’ part planned in their day. Once he didn’t think his throat was going to rip to pieces, Taehyung blinked heavily at the various bright flowers that had probably been put together with more thought and precision than he could possibly imagine in that moment. Clearly Yoongi had decided to call in a delivery, he wasn’t really surprised. Jimin’s eyes shone as if he truly hadn’t expected the florist to stop by, and Taehyung didn’t think the elder really cared what he thought about it, he had merely fallen into an instinctive habit. Although, Tae would have preferred not to be assaulted with things that would possibly trigger his sinuses.

He scrunched his nose and pushed away the hand that held the glorified weapons. There were quiet steps and a gentle murmur from behind them that he would have brushed off as him hearing things, if only Jimin didn’t glance up with such a warm, wide smile.

“Beau’iful Chim.” Tae sniffed and rolled so that the blankets rolled higher to hide his face.

 His cheeks were heated and Jimin turned his smile to him knowingly – albeit apologetic for letting Yoongi inside when Tae clearly just wanted Soulmate time. Jimin pressed a quick kiss to the small visible section of Tae’s damp forehead before getting to his feet with a stifled cough.

 “I’ll put these in water... You really didn’t have to come and check on me, you know.” Jimin said softly as he walked towards their kitchen. “Probably safer to just call.”

 “I’m not scared of getting sick, Jimin.” A low voice that could only be Yoongi, reassured as he followed the other. – So more than a delivery then.-  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday. Hobi said he ran into Taehyung earlier… Although from the looks of things he should have probably stayed home, poor guy sounds worse than you did – than you do.”    

 Jimin hummed, and Taehyung shifted to cover his head entirely beneath the blanket, trying not to listen to the couples conversation. Maybe he should just move somewhere else and let them have some space without having to hide in the kitchen. Of course Yoongi would have to accept the fact that he was entering an area of disease, but he seemed more than willing considering he was already in their home.

Tae gave a sigh and then a deep sniffle. He plucked a fresh tissue to wipe at the tender skin under his nose. It took a moment to work up the energy but eventually he was able to twist so that he practically rolled off of the couch. His knees and hand connecting a lot harder than he’d predicted to the floor, while trying to keep the blanket as steady as possible on his hunched frame. With sluggish motions, he tried to sweep most of the used tissues up with his hands and dumped them into the wastepaper bin kicked under the table, then after achingly persistent hitch started up that had left him feeling frustrated at the lack of relief – he considered the area clean enough before standing unsteadily. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly over his shoulders, he grabbed the tissue box to take with him – Jimin could find something else, he felt he needed them more. Then he had almost tripped on the way to his room and had muttered half-hearted curses at the blanket for betraying him and getting caught up in his steps, until finally he was able to collapse onto his bed.

Sure it was cold and probably smelt of sweat but it was at least more comfortable than where he had been lying and it had pillows that he could hug in replacement of Jimin. He buried his face into his arm almost immediately, sneezing harshly twice before he was able to bring a tissue to his nose and smother three more, breaking off into an exhausted, thick cough that left him feeling miserable and wanting nothing more to recollect the bottle of medicine he’d taken earlier and take the rest of it.

God, he really was so over this stupid cold.

[kagedaddy]

you hangout - haikyuu!

Warnings: none

boyfriend scenarios [3] [masterlist]

woo! i hit 200 followers, どうもありがとうございます (thank you so much)! shoot me an ask for any one shot requests for the 200 followers special!

oikawa tooru

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you pull out your phone to read the notification.

It was Oikawa.

‘(last name)-chan where are you?’

Your cousin and you were running a little late to his volleyball lessons it had been because you stayed up late messaging a certain Seijoh boy.

‘we’re running late, nearly there’

You quickly replied as you both ran for the community centre,”(first name), I don’t wanna be late,”came the sad voice of your cousin, you mentally smack yourself for not waking up to your alarm.

That chocolate haired male is gonna get a scolding for keeping you up late.

You push the doors to the community centre and sigh in relief as the volleyball class of your cousin has not started. Your cousin runs to his class before quickly giving you a hug, you smile before heading to the benches where a certain someone was waiting for you.

“(last name)-chan finally!”he jumps up from his seat, chocolate locks bouncing with him, you feign anger towards the setter,”Oi Oikawa you made us late!”you cross your arms over yourself.

But you couldn’t maintain it, he was too cute. He looks at you with a pout on his lips and you failed to contain your smile. You take the seat beside him,”You kept me up late last night, I missed my alarm this morning.”It was your turn to pout, he pinches your cheek and they heat up from his contact, you lighty smack his hand away before covering your own cheeks.

“Aww I’m sorry (last name)-chan, I just like talking to you.”your cheeks flush even more and you had to look away so he wouldn’t notice.

”Its okay, I like talking to you too.”you muttered.

“Let me buy you ice-cream as an apology.”he clears his throat, at the mention of ice-cream your face lights up and you jump up from the seat,”really?”your eyes glimmering in excitement, he nods chuckling at your childish behaviour, before grabbing your arm and dragging you out the community centre.

You hum in satisfaction as you licked on the cold treat, the male setter before you stares with a huge smile plastered on his lips,”what?”you ask, now feeling a little bit self-conscious from his staring.

“Nothing, you’re just so cute.”

iwaizumi hajime

“(first name)-chan, Iwaizumi-san is at the door,”your younger sibling yells out from the front door,”okay, can you let him in. I’ll be down in a bit,”I finish up the last of my makeup before heading downstairs to meet Iwaizumi, you were nervous this was the first time you’ll be hanging out with him alone alone, he needed to pick up some groceries and you had been nice enough to help him out.

“Hi!”you say shyly, the male looks up to you and a smile plays on his lips,”you look nice.”he rubs the back of his neck and both of you flush, while your younger sibling snickers at the both of you.

“Oi (sibling name),”you smack your sibling lightly before fully turning your attention to the handsome man,”uh, let’s go?”you say and he nods his head as he leads you out of your house. “Don’t forget to do your homework (sibling name), dinner is in the fridge.”you remind your younger sibling before you and Iwaizumi exit your house gate.

“You’re such a nice older sister,”the tan male praises and you feel your cheeks heat up,”thanks! Do you have any siblings?”the male shakes his head,”but I feel like I have one cause of Shittykawa,”you raise an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is he that bad?”you giggle and Iwaizumi smiles, oh God was he attractive.

You both arrive at the supermarket and it was pretty packed, it was a Friday night. He pulls out his grocery list both of you scanning the list before on deciding to head to the personal care aisle. 

“Can you hand me the tsubaki shampoo?”you pick the red shampoo bottle and handle it over to Iwaizumi who drops it in his basket, you both go through the grocery list, passing each other items and getting lost in all the aisles.

You couldn’t help but blush at the moment, it seemed as though both of you were dating or married. Doing groceries together, you had to walk away for a moment to cooldown and get yourself together. 

“Are you okay?”Iwaizumi asks, concern written all over his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he puts the back of his hand on your forehead, “you seem fine,”he tilts his head in confusion. 

You assure him everything is alright and continue on your supermarket adventure.

Finally the last item on the list, the meat. The butcher section was empty except for the old man waiting for his cuts,”hi, what can I get you both?”the butcher asks. You both browse the meat selection, pointing out which meat would be the best to purchase but you both couldn’t agree on anything. 

“Are you two newly weds?”you both paused, cheeks burning red from the question,”No, we’re not!”you answered the butcher who just chuckled at you and Iwaizumi red faces. “Sorry, you both act like it,”the butcher apologises and bows.

//

heyya guys, my mental state right now isn’t the best. i’m still having a hard time coping with my break up. anyways i’m sorry, leave a like and comment if you enjoyed today’s post, i’ll try my best to update more frequently and send me asks. have a great day!

all the love xx

[hockeywhy]

rock on; t. jost

WARNINGS: none WORD COUNT: 2.2k A/N: I wrote this back when Josty blessed all the goths with his black lipstick and choker and space buns last Halloween, so I thought well, why not re-post it and here it is. 

“Babe?”

“Mhm…”

You watch in amusement as Tyson hovers around your makeup table, occasionally picking at an item now and then to inspect it before setting it back in its place. Although he tries to make himself appear as nonchalant as he can, you know there is something on his mind that made him circle around the area for the past half hour or so. You didn’t think much of it initially until he started uncapping some lipsticks, twirling them up for inspection, eyebrows furrowing in concentration before setting them down again. If you didn’t know him for as long as you did, you’d pass off his behaviour as an act of boredom, but you can swear you know him even better than you know yourself at times. There is purpose to his movement, and you’re set on finding out what’s been nagging at him. 

“See anything you like?” you ask cautiously, though there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. 

“What? No, I was just…” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, placing a pencil back in its place and for a brief moment, he catches your eyes in the mirror. It isn’t until you arch a brow in silent question that Tyson turns to face you properly. “So, you know how we have that little get together for Halloween tonight?” he questions, and you prompt him to carry on with a quick nod of your head. “Well, since you and Olivia are going to wear matching costumes, Dante and I thought of doing the same thing.”

“Let me guess. You two are finally agreeing with our Flintstones costumes, and will dress as Fred and Barney?”

Tyson chuckles and he shakes his head, almost regretfully. “Not quite. But, uh, do you happen to have a really dark shade of lipstick? Like a dark purple or…black, even?” 

You sit up slowly then crawl over to sit closer to the foot of the bed. “I think I do. I’m pretty sure I do. Why do you ask?” 

“Well, remember when we watched that Scooby Doo movie and you said you really liked those Hex Girls?” 

You’re just a split second away from confirming you remember that because it only happened the previous night. You and Tyson knew you’d be hanging out with a few friends on Halloween night, so you booked off the Eve of it solely for yourselves. The movies were rolling one after the other throughout most of the day and the two of you went from watching genuinely scary films to children’s stuff like Hocus Pocus or Paranorman, though you found that both of you were especially keen on Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost. Whether it had to do with it being such a childhood classic or the familiarity of the characters, you and Tyson made sure you had enough snacks to last you the full run of the movie without either of you having to get up for refills. By the end of it, you were both trying to one-up each other for the best impersonation of the Hex Girls though you barely managed to make it halfway through before giving in to fits of laughter. 

The coin dropped then.

“No way…” you exclaimed quietly while Tyson confirmed your guess with a quick nod and a big grin, clearly proud of the decision he and Dante came to at some point and could now finally put it to practice. 

“Uh-huh. Well, we’re not dressing up as the Hex Girls but they’re definitely the inspiration, so… Think you can help?” 

The sheer excitement of the thought made you squeal and jump up off the bed properly, clapping your hands together, mind already racing through the endless possibilities. Sure, you should probably make a start on putting together your own look for the approaching evening, but this was so much more exciting. Betty Rubble could wait. Tyson in a goth-rock look, however? You had to help him make a start on it – right now. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this sooner! I could’ve—oh gosh, we could’ve put together so many things!” you exclaimed while circling around him to browse quickly through a few items across the vanity, setting aside some tools in a pile you mentally labelled as the for-consideration pile. 

“I trust you with this,” he assured, turning to sit properly in the seat while watching you go through what to him, seemed like endless options. “So, we’re thinking the full works, you know? All black outfits, maybe even makeup to go with it… What do you think?” 

“I think this will be the best Halloween,” you confirm to him and press a quick kiss to his mouth for extra measure. Once you straighten up though, something keeps you hovering just behind Tyson to consider him with a slight tilt of your head and a narrowing of your eyes. Almost subconsciously, you bring a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through the curls and the gesture makes him tilt his head back in silent encouragement to keep doing that. “How about space buns?” you ask quietly, almost to yourself and briefly test out the idea by gathering some of his hair to part it. It’s long enough now, and so easy to work with that it’d be too much of a shame to pass on the opportunity. “Please say yes.” 

Tyson laughs quietly, reaching back for one of your hands and giving it a light tug so that you can let him guide it to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the heel of your palm and then the inside of your wrist. 

“Go for it.” 

The fun begins then and though the idea is very much Tyson and Dante’s, the entire process becomes your own. 

You dig out an old black denim jacket you almost forgot about and when you both come to the conclusion that it’s probably a little too tight for Tyson around the arms and therefore not quite as rock-and-roll, you take a pair of scissors to it despite his endless string of assurance that surely there’s something else he could use. 

“Babe, it has little gems around it. You can’t say no to the early 2000s type gems on clothing,” you tell him in a deadpan voice and that seems to do it just right. 

The dressing up part is the easiest and perhaps the most straightforward, but when you finally sit him down at the vanity again so that you can make a start, Tyson makes you line up everything you’ll use so he can take a picture and send it to Dante. Just to make sure that they’ll be as closely matched as possible. 

Tyson follows your guidance to a T: he looks up when you line his bottom lash line and looks down when you make a start on his eyelids; he parts his lips a little just before you make a start on lining them (not before exclaiming how good this entire look is coming along and pressing another kiss on his mouth which he returns just before you take a pencil to it) and bites down on a small folded tissue when you tell him. 

All the while, you prevent him from trying to glimpse himself in the mirror but after he gets past the first two complaints (“babe, come on I just want to look really quick” and “is it because I don’t fit this at all and you’re trying to soften the blow?”), Tyson simply settles quietly, legs spread just enough to let you stand closer while parting his hair. Occasionally, he’d loosely wrap his arms around your waist or casually caress your sides with his palms but other than that, the entire situation is reminiscent of days from childhood when you and your girlfriends would take turns helping each other with dress-up and sitting as still as possible out of sheer fear the slightest inclination of your body would ruin everything. 

It isn’t until you finish doing one of the space buns that you lean back a little to look at him properly, and you can’t help the small giggle that escapes your mouth. 

“I think this is it, baby,” you tell him. “This is the costume for you.” 

A slight furrow forms on his face and his smile is almost cautious. “I can’t tell if you mean it’s horrifically good or horrifically horrific. Not that I don’t trust your skills!” he corrects quickly, before you even have the chance to consider that in the first place. “I don’t think I’d trust anyone with a pencil anywhere near my eye except you, but I’m pretty sure between the two of us, you’d rock the eyeliner, dark lipstick and space buns better than anyone can.” 

You arch an eyebrow but waste no more time getting started on the second bun. “What, you’re telling me you never let Kacey lure you into playing dress up as kids?” There’s a moment of hesitation, so you know you got him. Besides, you’ve seen the photos. Those were some of the first Kacey showed you as soon as Tyson introduced you to his family. “Thought so. Now let me just get this one done and you’ll see you might just give Dusk a run for her money.” 

Try as you might though, and you couldn’t tame one of his curls from falling over his forehead and though you had an apparent endless supply of pins, you decided to give them a pass. There is something so incredibly endearing about that one loose strand that refused to be tamed and besides, you figured Instagram would thank you for it if any photos were to go up on the internet. For extra safety, you twirl it around your finger then set it loose before bringing your palms up to hover in front of his eyes. 

“Alright, now turn around slowly and I dare you to tell me this isn’t an entire look.” 

He does as told and once he’s facing the mirror, you make an entire show out of removing your hands, complete with a ta-dah! 

At once, his mouth falls open and slowly, he turns his head one way then the other before tilting it down just enough to catch a full glimpse of the buns sitting atop his head.

“Oh my god…” he mutters, and you can tell his voice is caught somewhere between regret and amusement, so you wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing your head down to rest on his shoulder after pecking his cheek quickly. 

“If Dante came up with this idea, I’m buying him the most lavish box of chocolates. If you came up with this idea, it’ll take a lot to beat it, I promise that,” you assure him and Tyson bursts into embarrassed laughter. 

“I look like I’m about to record the remix to an Alice Cooper song.” 

“I wanna kiss you but I want it too much. I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison,” you quote in a soft sing-song voice and just as you’re about to pull away from him just to add that extra dramatic flair, Tyson catches your wrist and reels you back in towards him gently, meeting you halfway as he stands up. 

“Keep going,” he murmurs against your mouth.

You chuckle softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Don’t spoil your lipstick so soon, baby. You didn’t even get to show it off to everyone else, so let’s save it for later, okay?”

It isn’t until you emerge from your bedroom almost an hour later after completing your own dress up that you notice Tyson had one extra surprise up his sleeve. He turns towards the sound of your footsteps and gleaming around his neck is a spiked leather choker that makes your jaw fall open. He stretches his arms out and does a slow spin, and when he faces you again, he tips his head back just a little as if to give you a better view.

“Yes? No?” he questions, and you detect a trace of hesitance in his voice. 

“Yes,” you confirm, almost breathlessly as you close the gap between the two of you and despite your earlier warning, kiss him even if some of the black lipstick might transfer onto your own hot pink one. It’s no bother, anyway. You have your tube and Tyson’s packed in your clutch. 

Just as you’re about to make a move towards the door, however, Tyson stops you and encourages you to do a full spin. 

“Wow,” he exclaims, following that up with a low whistle. “It’s really not too late at all for me to get into that Barney costume.” 

“Absolutely not,” you state firmly and to make your point even clearer, you quickly push him out of the door. “Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintstone are going to just have a girls’ Halloween get-together and we’ll see our husbands when we get back home. Meanwhile, you and Dante can put on a show worthy of a 2000s middle school goth-rock party. Hey, do you know the lyrics to My Chemical Romance’s I’m Not Okay?”

“I’m not singing My Chemical Romance,” Tyson says quickly, almost stumbling his words in doing so as if saying it any slower would mean he’d have to do it right there and then.

“Oh, you are so singing My Chemical Romance,” you say softly, voice taking on that sing-song tone again and burst into laughter as Tyson groans, gently bumping his head against the steering wheel.

[sleepyfics]

❝  got no shame,  calum hood.

summary:   there’s a viral trend on tiktok where you get naked in front of your significant other and film their reaction. well, you thought it’d be fun to do it while your boyfriend calum is streaming with the band ---- promoting their new album.

authors note:   this is pretty much just PURE SMUT, so be warned!  i’ve been on tiktok way too much lately... also, stream calm and enjoy a cute lil’ quickie scenario!  

You’re bored out of your mind.

After taking a much needed shower, you find yourself in your favorite plush bathrobe, body sprawled across the king-sized bed you and your boyfriend share. Time inside these confined walls (to you) felt like it was dragging by, especially when Calum’s been busy doing promotions for the new album. Most of the time it was just you and Duke, and even he liked his naps throughout the day.

Blindly reaching out to grab your phone from the nightstand, you began to browse through your socials. Twitter, same old. Instagram, getting kind of boring. Facebook, always the same people posting the same thing.

Quickly growing tired of your feeds, you decide to check into the livestream that the band’s been holding for Amazon Music. Once you’re in, you immediately roll your eyes upon hearing Ashton’s attempt to write his own fanfiction about Calum and his ukulele ---- even getting a small laugh out of you.

As they continue on with their live shenanigans, you can’t stop staring at your boyfriend’s face on the top right of your screen. He’s always been more kept to himself than the rest of the guys, but when he makes those soft (and adorably funny) comments here and there, it made your heart flutter.

Something deep in your core begins to bubble after practically admiring your boyfriend through the screen, and before your mind goes further south, you decide to close out of the stream and browse through something else. TikTok immediately comes to mind. While you never really showed interest in the hype of it all ---- being in this quarantine for weeks has convinced you to give it a shot. And you’ve been hooked since. So here you are, scrolling through your feed as if it was your newfound addiction.

There’s this new trend circulating around the app where people would get naked in front of their partners (who were usually busy doing something) and film their reactions. The video idea has piqued your interest. You wonder how Calum would react if you do something of the like, mostly because he was always an avid fan of taking your clothes off for you. He found it sexier that way.

If you weren’t bored out of your mind right now, you would’ve waited. If you thought that your own fingers could give you the same satisfaction, you would’ve waited. But you’re craving for it now ---- your boyfriend’s attention, his eyes, his hands. You want him.

The guys wouldn’t mind, right?

Getting up from your previous position, you toss the towel wrapped around your damp hair to the side. As you’re standing, phone already in hand, your fingers work their way around the knot of your robe before untangling it.

Your thumb presses record once your robe unwound, the cool air trickling your skin as it entered through the opening. You then reach for the door to open it, making your way out and down the hall, towards the room Calum was streaming in. You can hear a string of laughter coming through, followed by your boyfriend murmuring a story about his favorite tattoo.

It doesn’t take long before you’re by the door of his office, body leaning against the frame. Calum’s sitting only a few feet away with his back turned against you, clearly focused on the livestream. He probably couldn’t hear you with the chunky headphones hovered securely over his ears, so saying something wouldn’t be the best idea. You didn’t want to disrupt the stream either.

So, you push the robe that was draped over your shoulders off. It glides down your bare body, before falling flat onto the dark mahogany floors. The mixture of the sight of your boyfriend and the thought of your body, revealed is enough to make you feel incredibly needy. You need to be touched, and it’s too late to go back.

As you reach down to grab the plush fabric from the ground, you mentally hope that you’ll be blessed with good aim at this very moment. You then take your chances and toss your bundled robe over Calum’s direction, and it perfectly lands on his head while he’s listening to one of his band members speak.

Instantaneously, his office chair swivels towards your direction. Your gaze meets his, and as his eyes trail further down your body, the gap between his lips grow wider.

His lips mouth a soft ‘fuck me’ while keeping his eyes on yours.

You can’t help but laugh softy, stopping the recording. You begin to really tease him by trailing your fingers down your skin. They start on your shoulder blades and move down to the tip of your nipples; a sight that’s left your boyfriend speechless.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back guys… I uh, need to use the bathroom,” Calum’s voice wasn’t steady at all.

And before he can even get a response from his friends, he’s already up from his chair, tossing the robe onto the couch that’s placed across from the desk. The beating of your heart turns rampant; you don’t know what to expect ---- is he angry? Annoyed?

Your question is soon answered when your body presses against his, his lips harshly colliding with yours full-force. His hands roam around your naked body, giving your ass a good squeeze before moving to the front to have his fingers brush against your throbbing clit, and back up to massage your breasts. These actions alone are enough for your core to pulsate. He’s hard too. You can feel it stiffen against your folds as you wrap your legs around his waist, letting your phone fall to the floor.

“God, Y/N,” he breathes, wasting no time to bring you back into the bedroom. “You can’t keep doing this to me, you know you’re my fuckin’ weakness.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips, bringing a finger up to delicately trace a line down his jaw. “I know,” you reply. “But I need you.”

That alone has your boyfriend letting out an involuntary moan, because fuck, that sounded so hot to him ---- he needs to be inside you.

Your back hits the soft mattress of the bed, and Calum settles between your legs, grinding his hard erection onto your wet pussy. You take it upon yourself to remove the hat that hovers over his eyes, throwing it as far as possible, before pulling him in for another kiss.

“We gotta be quick babe, the guys think I’m taking a shit,” he whispers with a small chuckle, which earned him a laugh on your end. It doesn’t ruin the momentum though, because after you nod, his hand snakes between your thighs, prying them apart.

His touch feels like electricity beginning to course through your veins. You can’t help but moan at his gentle fingers massaging circles around your clit. He dips them lower to spread the wetness across your folds, then bringing it back up to lubricate the sensitive bundle of nerves. You can’t contain yourself because god, his fingers feel so good on you. Your lips pepper kisses across his collarbones, softly moaning against his skin.

“I need you inside me, Cal,” you say softly into his ear, planting small kisses at the lobe.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Another moment isn’t wasted, and you help him push his athletic shorts and boxers down just enough to have his hard length spring free.

He lines his erection up against your slick folds before gradually pushing it in. Your eyes roll back at the pleasurable sensation, and you both moan in unison. His pace starts off as gentle and slow, leaning in again to satisfy his craving for your lips.

When he pulls away, he trails kisses down your neck and down to your breasts. Once he stops at your nipples, you’re greeted by his tongue flicking them, causing you to arch your back.  

His pace begins to quicken and the two of you are slapping skin. His grip on the thick duvet tightens until his knuckles lose color, and you rake your nails across his back muscles --- leaving red marks that won’t disappear until the next morning.

Calum pulls out without finishing, having you confused. He uses the time to properly get on his knees, using your legs to pull you closer to him. He takes your right leg and brings it up to rest on his shoulder and pushes himself back in. “Fuck, baby,” you almost say inaudibly at the feeling of him hitting your g-spot in the perfect way. You can feel yourself coming close to finishing as your fingers curl against the sheets.

“You ready cum for me?” there’s a smirk that’s laced across his features, fully aware of how he’s making you feel. He uses his thumb to rub your throbbing clit, matching the intensity of his thrusts. “Ready to cum all over my cock?”

Nodding feverishly with a moan, it doesn’t take longer for you to come undone. You begin to breathe heavily from the intense sensation, before flashing a smile over at your boyfriend. “That’s my girl,” he muses at the sight of you recovering from your orgasm, turning to kiss the leg that’s over his shoulder.

Calum’s thrusts begin to become sloppier and erratic. Quickly, he pulls out and begins to pump his length over you, before letting out a satisfying moan as he his strings of milky ribbons land on your glistening body.

You both take the moment to catch a breath. As your eyes meet, still breathing heavily, the two of you share an ‘I can’t believe that happened’ laugh. He pulls his shorts and boxers back up and grabs the nearest towel (the one you had on your hair after your shower), cleaning up the mess he’s made across your frame.

Once you’re all cleaned up, you hurriedly push your boyfriend out the door and back to his office to continue the livestream that totally flew past both of your heads. Calum rushes over to his chair and plops back down so hard that it almost causes him to fall off the chair. You snort at the sight ---- so loud that it definitely was caught in the stream.

“What the fuck happened to you, mate?” Michael’s voice echoes through the room. Calum must’ve removed his headphones from his computer. “You were gone for like, fifteen minutes. We thought you died, or something!”

“I had to take a shit, bro!” Calum laughs, running his fingers across his obvious sex hair before taking another deep exhale. “At least I take my time, unlike Ashton here. Fucker doesn’t even wash his hands.”

“Hey!” Ashton exclaims through the screen. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Calum. I hope…”

You need to do TikTok trends with him more often.

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 1/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall Summary: The year is 1886, William Mulder owns a horse ranch in northern Texas.  The widow of a neighboring landowner has something he wants. Notes: Please be aware that this fic will contain ‘off-camera’ references to violence and abuse of various kinds. I will not be tagging individual TWs on the chapters.

Prologue

Many years from now, when he tells the tales of his younger days, he will claim that this is the day that changed his life forever.  If that horse hadn’t thrown a shoe, well then.  His wife will roll her eyes at this, tell him that any number of events prior to that day had already changed his life forever.  The decision to leave Massachusetts for the open prairie, for example, had changed his life forever.  The fact that his father had sent him to live with his aunt in the countryside instead of keeping him in the city had changed his life forever.  The pony he received for his birthday when he was a child had clearly changed his life forever.

All of that will hindsight one day.  Right now, it’s just an ordinary Thursday, the 9th of September, 1886.  The weather is mild, almost cool compared to the heat wave that had hit in the latter half of August.  And William Mulder’s horse has thrown a shoe.

Chapter 1

Normally, Mulder (only his family ever called him William) sends his ranch hand, Melvin, to take care of small errands and menial tasks, but he hasn’t been to town in almost a month and he could use a change of pace.  He hitches one of his more reliable horses to his wagon and takes one of the ones in training as well, one he’s just broken in, to see how he handles on the hour-long ride.  Their first stop is Gray’s Blacksmith.

After tying the horses to the post, Mulder gives them both a good scratching about the neck for a job well done and receives a snort and whinny of appreciation.  “Well done, boys,” he says.  “Carrots and apples at home for both of you if you keep up the good work.”

The familiar sound of clanking and hammering and the crackle of fire greets Mulder as he steps into the open door of the blacksmith’s.  He tips his hat to the striker, who nods a greeting.  The blacksmith turns and nods as well.

“Mr. Gray,” Mulder says.

“Mr. Mulder,” the blacksmith answers, passing his tongs to his assistant and then removing his gloves to shake hands.  “What can I do for ya?”

“Faithful Jenny’s thrown a shoe.  Melvin’s fixing her up, but I figured it was a good time to pick up a crate of nails and shoes.”

“Come on back and take a look then.  How’s business?”

“Doing well.  We’re training up a half dozen draft horses for the postal service right now.”

“Is the rumor you pulled in a mustang a few weeks ago true?”

“Afraid so.”

“You ain’t got a broken neck far as I can tell, so you must be faring alright with him then.”

“You can see him for yourself when I take this cart out to the wagon.”

“You brung him with ya?”

“I did.”

“I’ll be.”

Mulder feels a surge of pride when the blacksmith comes out to admire the horse.  He slides the crate of shoes and nails into the back of the wagon and then shows off his friendship with the four-legged beast by rubbing his belly.  The horse scratches the ground with his front hoof and shakes his head.

“You sure got a way, Mr. Mulder,” Mr. Gray says.  “If you got any stock you’re looking to sell I heard there’s a new homesteader a ways south that was interested.”

“I’m on my way to the mercantile.  I’ll be sure to ask John.”

The two men shake hands once again before Mulder gets back in his wagon.  He smiles to himself when the blacksmith watches him leave.  He’s made a name for himself in the short while he’s been here breaking and training up horses.  Folks in the area have said time and again that there isn’t a horse he can’t tame, that it’s almost downright spooky the way he seems to be able to talk to them.

There’s a man being waited on in the mercantile that Mulder doesn’t recognize, probably someone just passing through.  He waits for John Byers to finish with the customer, browsing the Montgomery Ward & Co. catalog at the end of the counter.

“Mulder,” John says after ringing the man up at the till.  “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, John.”  He pulls a shopping list from his pocket and unfolds it.  “I’m sure you’re better at translating Melvin’s chicken scratches than me at this point.”

“I believe I can manage.”  John chuckles and takes the shopping list.  He pulls a crate down and begins to collect items off the shelves and William goes back to the catalogue, thumbing past the illustrations of ladies’ garments to find menswear.

“If I put in an order for denim trousers for me and the boys you think they’ll be in by winter?”

“I’d say it’s likely.”

“Mr. Gray mentioned there were some new homesteaders interested in horses.”

“He must mean Mr. Campbell.  It’s oxen he’s after, I believe.”

“If you hear otherwise, send him my way.”

“I’ll do that.  I suppose you heard about your neighbor?”

“What neighbor is that?”

“Jack Willis.”

“Haven’t heard a thing.  What about him?”

“He spent all of Saturday night at the saloon in a poker game and was found dead in a ditch just outside of town on Sunday morning.”

“Robbed?”

“I should actually say he spent all Saturday night losing in a poker game and downing whiskey like water.  I heard he stumbled his way into that ditch of his own accord and met an untimely demise.”

“I only met him the once, but that doesn’t surprise me much.  Far be it for me to speak ill of the dead, but the man had a disagreeable disposition.  He seemed like the type to get himself into trouble.”

“Well, the bank is soon to be after his widow.  I’ve heard he’s in arrears.  I’m actually surprised the Sheriff didn’t stop on at your place on his way out there to tell her about her husband’s death.”

“Didn’t know he had a widow.  And you know Sheriff Doggett, he’s all business.”

“My Susannah saw them together, he and his wife, the day they passed through looking for land, and you know Susannah, she was beside herself at the notion of another woman come to town, but then no one’s seen hide nor hair of her since.”

“I still regret having been back east when Old Man Goodwin passed.  I’ve had my eye on that land for quite some time.”

“Maybe she’ll sell it to you.”

Mulder rubs at his chin in thought.  “You say the bank is about to repossess?”

“That’s the rumor.  I don’t think Mr. Skinner would relish evicting a new widow, but there probably isn’t much he can do if the mortgage is late.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a ride out to pay my respects and assess the situation.  Thank you, John.”

Byers nods and gestures to the items laid out on the counter.  “I’ll have John Jr. load the cart for you.  Would you like this on your account?”

“I’ll square up everything now, but go ahead and order those trousers.”

The hour ride back home gives Mulder time to think.  He’s in a position to offer the Willis widow a handsome sum for his neighboring acres.  The one and only time he’d met Jack Willis he was immediately soured on trying to form any kind of friendship with him.  The man had been downright surly and abrasive and he sure hopes the widow is more neighborly.

Melvin takes over the wagon when Mulder arrives home and shows him the new shoe on Faithful Jenny.  The older man is at least a foot closer to the ground than Mulder and proudly displays a life-long love of hearty biscuits around his middle, but there’s no better right-hand man that Mulder could ask for.  He’s foreman and farrier, counselor and cook.  There isn’t anything Mulder doesn’t trust him with.  As they unload the wagon together, he tells him about what he heard from John Byers.

“Well, there’s no harm in asking,” Melvin offers as advice.  “If’n the bank really is after her, she might be grateful for the offer.  You should probably get out there as soon as possible in case anyone else might be sniffin’ around for them acres.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“You know if’n I’d heard about Bob Goodwin any sooner I’d have snatched up them acres for you before I could even send a wire.”

“I know, it’s not your fault.  Do me a favor, old man, tack up Blondie while I try to make myself presentable.”

“That could take hours.  Days even.”

“Decades, in your case.  If it’s even possible.”

The two men laugh over their gentle ribbing of each other and Mulder claps Melvin on the shoulder.  He parts from his friend to go wash his face, comb his hair, and put on a fresh shirt.  His horse is saddled and ready to go when he comes back out.

“Good luck,” Melvin tells him.

A narrow, slow-moving creek divides Mulder’s property from the Willis widow’s land.  It’s one he’s crossed many times when Old Man Goodwin was his neighbor.  He knows where the shallowest spot is to lead the horse and where the shrubs are too thick and have to be avoided.  He tries not to daydream about what he’ll do with an expansion, but he passes the spot he’d like to clear out for a better corral and where he’d like to add another stable and it’s hard not to hope.

The old sod house that Old Man Goodwin had slapped together is still standing, though it looks to have seen better days.  The roof needs patching and the walls are crumbling in spots.  He dismounts Blondie when he’s still a few yards away and leads the horse over to the post he knows is at the side of the house.  The nearby trough which is usually full of water is empty.  The chickens that were usually clucking and underfoot are nowhere to be seen.

Mulder knocks lightly on the clapboard door and moments later a woman with the reddest hair and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen answers.

↭

Katherine is expecting the knock when it comes, though it’s sooner than she thought it would be.  In the days since her husband’s death, she’s racked her brain for a solution to her current predicament, but has come up empty handed.  She doesn’t delay in answering the door.  She may be on the verge of being destitute and homeless, but she’ll face it with dignity.

“Uh, Mrs. Willis, I presume?” the man asks.  He stammers a bit but he has an easy, congenial smile that catches her a little off guard.  She’d been expecting the Sheriff she’d met on Sunday, but perhaps the bank manager in this town takes care of evictions.  

“Mr. Skinner, I presume?” she finally replies.

The man chuckles and removes his hat.  “Ah, no Ma’am,” he says, running his hand through his hair.  “I’m afraid I have a bit more hair than our dear Mr. bank manager.”

“Oh.”  She should have known.  The bank managers she’s had dealings with in the past were stuffy and pinched.  This man is far too rugged and handsome to be a bank manager.

“William Mulder.”  He holds out his hand to her and when she gives him hers, he bows slightly and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips lightly across her knuckles.  Embarrassed, she pulls her hand back and closes it into a fist to hide her dirty and calloused palms from him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asks.

“I know we haven’t met before, but I happen to be your neighbor just to the south.  I heard about your husband and I’ve come to pay my respects.”

“I see.  Would you...care to come in, then?”

“Thank you.”

He has to bend to step through the low-frame of the door.  She has no candles, but there’s enough light from the open door and the unpatched holes in the walls that it’s unnecessary.  She watches him look the place over and she can tell he’s not impressed by the shabbiness of it all.  

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you,” she says.

He smiles politely.  “That’s alright, Ma’am.  I came to be neighborly, but there is also a matter I wanted to discuss regarding this land.”

“Oh?”  Fear grips her suddenly.  He may not be the bank man, and he may not be the sheriff, but he could be another kind of lawman.  Even if he was telling the truth that he was her neighbor, he could still be there to turn her out, or worse yet, remove her to debtor’s prison.  Unconsciously, she begins to tremble.

“Mrs. Willis?” he asks.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, pulling the tattered shawl draped over her shoulders a little tighter across her chest.  “A chill is all.”

He looks around again.  “You’ve no chair to sit on?”

“No.”

“Would you like to come back outside?  Perhaps it will be warmer.  You could sit on my horse.”

The absurdity of the offer makes her laugh and eases her anxiety somewhat.  He bites his lower lip almost shyly and tips his chin down as he turns the hat over in his hands again.  She stares at his mouth, thinking about how the slight overbite he has seems to suit him well.  She notes other things too, in the silence.  Like how his beard is well-trimmed and his nails are clean.  He presents himself as a cowboy, but she knows a city man when she sees one.

“Um, Mrs. Willis, I…”

She flinches at the name.  “Katherine,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’d prefer you call me Katherine.”

He cocks his head a little to the side and smiles.  “Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,” he murmurs.

She can’t help but lift her right eyebrow.  It used to irritate her husband immensely when she pulled faces, as he called it.  “Rather Kate the Curst,” she replies.

His eyes widen and seem to brighten.  “You know Shakespeare?”  

“You look surprised.”

“No, no, it’s just...I haven’t had much opportunity to discuss the Bard out here.  Apologies for the Taming of the Shrew reference, but whenever I come across a Katherine, I can’t help but make the association.  Especially when it’s not altogether untrue.”

She feels the heat rise to her cheeks with the compliment that she knows is entirely unwarranted.  She was never very pretty.  Her mother used to complain about how wild and curly her hair was when she was a child, not to mention the dreadful freckles across her nose and cheeks.  It may have been quite some time since she’s been in the presence of a looking glass, but she doesn’t need one to know that her appearance is lacking.    

“I suppose I could have just as easily been a Viola or an Ophelia,” she says, avoiding his flattery.

“Hopefully not a Lady MacBeth.”

“No.”  The conversation stalls momentarily, but then she wets her lips and tightens her shawl again.  “You said there was something you came to speak with me about?”

“I was away on some business when Old Man...ah, that is, when Mr. Goodwin, the previous owner of your land, passed on.  I’d been eyeing this parcel for some time and had been planning to offer Mr. Goodwin a sum to sell it to me.  I’d like to make you that same offer.”

“Ah.”  She closes her eyes and chuckles mirthlessly for a brief moment.  “I’m afraid I can’t take that offer.”

“Have you sold to someone else?”

“No, but I’m not in a position to sell.  My husband leased this land and I have every reason to doubt he ever made good on the rent.  He drank most of the money and gambled what was left of that.”

“I see.”  

“I’m just biding my time now until the bank comes to collect and turn me out.”

“Do you have people back...wherever it is that you're from?”

“Virginia.”

“It’s not but a few days ride to Fort Worth, I could send a wire to someone for you.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“No.”  She shakes her head slowly and sighs.  “There’s no one back home, but thank you.”

He shifts his feet and tries to speak, but he says nothing.  He looks dumbfounded in a way that almost makes her feel sorry for him.

“Was that all?” she asks.

“Ma’am,” he stammers.  “Mrs. Willis...Katherine...I can’t...I can’t…”

She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but she reaches out and puts her hand over his where it grips the brim of his hat.  He falls silent and stops his fidgeting.  She squeezes his hand lightly and lets her fingers rest against his wrist for a few moments before she takes it away.

“Since you seem familiar with the bank man,” she says.  “I’m sure you’ll get your wish soon enough.”

“But…”

“Good day to you, Mr. Mulder.  Thank you for coming.”

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

3. Reel

A movie night with Norman goes hilariously wrong. But on the bright side, he won’t get as many headaches as he did before. (Set in roughly the middle of the FIFE, my escape AU timeline, post Sam’s departure, pre Tom’s bargain.)

Having a projector for a head wasn’t too bad as long as you could think while it was there. Sure, it was uncomfortably warm in comparison to the rest of his body, he had no peripheral vision, he couldn’t eat normally, and needed weekly maintenance or else he’d lose his sentience. But it did its job well enough, and it was better than the alternatives of either being headless altogether or volunteering himself up for Inky’s bizarre scheme of “redesigning his character model”.

Even if he was dumb enough to trust the demon who beheaded him a hundred thousand times over with his body, what would be the point of going from a projector headed ink monster to a projector headed toon? What would that even accomplish for him? Give him the joy of being shorter, noodlier, and having less fingers? It wasn’t like he was stuck in a random object every loop like Wally was.

Besides, while his current form wasn’t ideal, he was still fine with it. Plus, sometimes his head even comes in handy. When he needed to fix something at night or when the power went off, he still had both his hands free to handle it, no need for a flashlight when he had one built into his body. And as it turned out, his head was compatible with a lot of reels, so as long as he had some lying around, he could pop them in and play them whenever he wanted.

That was partly why weekly movie nights became part of his routine. He got to be semi-social in a way that made him feel better about himself and his situation and it made the others feel more comfortable with him. It was started by Susie and at first it was just the two of them, but lately more people had wanted to join the movie nights.

Norman was browsing through a box of discarded reels looking for an interesting enough film while Henry and Linda were making snacks in the kitchen. He had heard that Wally’s granddaughter might be joining them tonight, so naturally, he was looking through one of the more family friendly boxes before he suddenly got hit with what felt like the force of a freight train at full speed.

“GRUNKLE NORMAN!”

“ACK!”

Speak of the devil, he had been ambushed by his only weakness! (Aside from getting killed).

“What movie are we gonna watch tonight? Is there gonna be aliens? I hope there’s aliens. Marvin and I have been looking forward to this all week!”

“CELESTE!” Wally called out from somewhere near the front door. “BE GENTLE WITH YOUR GRUNKLE, AN’ DON’T SPOOK HIM TOO BADLY! HE’S BEEN THROUGH A LOT.”

“SORRY GRANDPA!” She called back.

“It’s all fine ya two, I can still take a good hit here an’ there.” The projectionist’s speaker crackled as he ruffled her hair. “Although, I would like a heads up next time kiddo.”

Celeste scrambled off of him and helped him get back up. And in turn, Norman picked up Marvin the Martian and gave him back to her.

“Ya know, I haven’t picked out the movie yet, maybe there is an alien movie or two somewhere in dis ol’ box, wanna help me find one?”

The future space explorer gasped.

“YES!”

She shouted before excitedly plunging herself into the depths of the reel box. Norman laughed and scooped her out of it.

“Now that ain’t how we find a movie, kiddo. Ya gotta be gentle with these things so they don’t break.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah, like me.”

It had taken a while but they had fished the perfect movie up and out of that old box. After a bit of re-arranging the living room to be more like a theater, the group took their seats, Norman popped the reels into his head, and the movie began to play.

There were some issues during the show, but nothing more drastic then the type of issues you’d get in a normal theater experience like some jerk heckling the show (Thanks Ink Demon) or someone stealing others snacks (Thanks Boris) but it wasn’t until halfway through the movie before there was a serious problem:

Norman had to sneeze.

The man who did not have a nose at all, and often wondered if he even had a respiratory system in the first place anymore, had to sneeze.

A feeling in his gut told him to hold it off as long as he could, but he couldn’t listen to his gut even if he wanted to. His gut couldn’t understand it; he had to sneeze.

*Ah... Ah...*

The picture was moving weird because of him, and everybody looked to him to figure out what the problem was.

*ACHOO!*

Norman suddenly felt a weight get thrown of his shoulders and heard a loud popping sound then was left in pitch blackness that he was not used to. Instinctively, he put his hands where his ‘head’ used to be and instead of feeling the warm piece of machinery, his fingers grazed over something else, something that felt like human skin, his neck? With the sense of touch, he was able to make out that his head felt a lot more like the one he used to have before it got replaced with a projector.

And then the screaming and crying began, he heard confused and concerned murmurs in the dark as well as the sound of small footsteps rush out of the living room.

“Mr. Polk...?”

“Did we just watch him die?”

“Jeez, If I knew he was gonna keel over so soon, I would’ve just left him in the studio and let him keep a more dignified death.”

“Uh oh...”

“GRANDPA WALLY! AUNT SUSIE! MR. HENRY! NORMAN’S HEAD FLEW OFF AND BROKE!”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

thoughts on Bela///Donna?

What a lovely can of worms you've placed in my inbox, dear nonnie. I cannot wait to open it and lose followers (regardless of what I actually say).

Since this is, uh, a subject of some debate among RE8 fans, I will be inputting my thoughts on the idea of the ship (and the possible controversy), as opposed to doing HCs or something for it (which I recognize might be what you were asking for, despite the excessive /s).

This is all based on my playthroughs of the game, as well as what I've managed to double check on the fandom/wiki for it. I know that a lot of people who read fanfic for the game haven't actually played it, likely having been lured in by Tall Vampire Milf, and so I hope that some people will be open to a reminder of, like, canon vs fanon? I've mentioned in a previous post that there's a lot of details for RE8 that are not made clear, and I feel the need to reiterate that in this post. Capcom left a lot of stuff up to people's imaginations, or kind of just hinted at in game or in concept art.

But more importantly, regardless of what game we're talking about, regardless of the conclusion I come to (and the one you come to) at the end of this post, I want to say that I absolutely understand the need/desire to have your own perspective/take on the characters from the game, as well as their dynamics. If a ship makes you uncomfortable because you see the characters as being family members, it's totally okay. Block the ship tag, or filter it out when you look through fandom stuff, don't follow people who post for it, etc, etc.

If you think of characters as being family-family (like, not just "we got married and are now a family" but, like, "we're siblings/parent and child") and still ship them? uh. sorry, bruv, maybe think of hitting that unfollow button. No, seriously, hit that unfollow button. This blog is anti-incest, thank you very much.

The last thing I'll say before putting it under a read-more (for both length and major RE8 spoilers) is that I recognize that I might have missed something, either in game or developers talking about things on social media, and so if you read through this and go "god, J, you're such a dumbass for forgetting *critical piece of media*" or even just "okay but have you seen *small but meaningful piece of media*?" please. Just. Please. Tell me. Link me to that shit. I WANT to know if I'm wrong. I've literally avoided talking about this for as long as I could in order to TRY and make sure I have all the context I need.

With that said, let's examine what context we are given for Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, and their relations to each other. I will be leaving my personal thoughts on Bela///Donna at the very end of this, as somewhat of a conclusion, somewhat of just a "hey, this is what you technically asked me about".

Firstly, let me begin by explaining what I consider to be the 3 tiers of "canon"

In-Game/Direct: The highest, truest tier, the definitive canon. This is everything that takes place in game, excluding certain hallucination scenes (ex: Mia was not really in House Beneviento, but we can infer some things from what Donna made Ethan hallucinate about). Things either happen, or are directly stated by characters. There's some wiggle room for dialogue, as characters can lie, but overall we, as the audience, assume we are being told the truth. At the very least, games usually eventually make it clear when a character has been dishonest. Examples of Direct Canon include the following: Ethan is infected with the mold, Lady Dimitrescu drinks blood, Heisenberg wears sunglasses, Mother Miranda can shapeshift.

Concept Art/Developer's Notes/Indirect: Mid-tier and debatable, the "we think, but we're not sure" of canon. Resident Evil: Village contains lots of concept art that the players can browse through, all of which include notes from the developers about the game, characters, environments, and story. Sometimes the notes make something "direct", but oftentimes they do not specify whether the listed idea is still canon or if it was removed during development. This tier also includes information that is implied/can be inferred from tier 1 information, but is not directly stated. Examples of Indirect Canon include the following: Donna's mother died by suicide, Moreau was going to have his lover fused to his back, Duke was originally a fifth lord, Heisenberg was going to have a twin. As you can see, not all of the concept art ideas made it into the final version of the game, so it can be hard when some information seems like it might still be true (such as the matter of Donna's parents).

Fanon/"False": Sometimes collective ideas in a fandom become so widespread that people start interpreting them as actual canon. Sometimes it gets hard to remember what's just obscure lore and what's fanon. When we get a piece of fiction as overall vague as a lot of Resident Evil: Village is, there's bound to be some confusion over time. That's one of the main reasons I waited to talk about Bela////Donna until after I had recently replayed relevant sections of the game, as I wanted to remind myself of what we're actually told. Examples of False Canon are difficult to pinpoint, but might include things like: Hufflepuffs are good at finding things? The Avengers got along for awhile and all had their own rooms in the tower? There's a number scale for the danger level of ghosts in Danny Phantom?

For this post, I will be limiting the majority of my notes to the first two levels of canon, and will do my best to mark them as such. Now... let us... begin.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Born no later than 1914, Alcina Dimitrescu was 44 years old when she was granted the Cadou by Mother Miranda. (1st Tier: Canon. Source: A note in the castle basement from a servant is dated 1958, and mentions both Alcina and her children. Secondly, Miranda's experiment notes state that Alcina was the 181st subject, and was given the Cadou at age 44. By doing math, we can then determine the earliest Alcina could have been born.)

Alcina refers to the other Lords as her family once without any disdain (when Ethan first arrives at the castle and is caught, Alcina says "you've escaped my little brother"). In a private journal (located near where she threw the infamous vanity) she insults the other Lords, and expresses anger that she is "treated like a sister to them". She argues with Heisenberg without any hesitation, and seems honest in her hatred of him (per Maggie Robertson's wunderbar performance). (1st Tier/2nd Tier: Canon with a sprinkle of interpretation for the last line)

Alcina openly refers to Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela as her daughters, and wrote in her experiment journal that she felt instantly connected to them (as mother and daughters). (1st Tier: Canon).

Bela Dimitrescu:

Likely born in the 1930's or 1940's, in order to be an adult by 1958 (the first dated appearance of the Dimitrescu daughters). (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Dialogue shows that all three of the daughters do love their mother, and reinforces the bond Alcina's journal mentions. (1st Tier: Canon)

We are not given any information about how Bela feels about the other Lords, or even what she knows about them. Once can assume that she shares the ideas of her mother, either because Alcina tells her things directly, or because Bela (who is eager to please her mother) picks up on them over time. (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Donna Beneviento:

No idea when she was born. If you've read one of my recent posts, then you know that it's almost entirely a matter of 2nd and 3rd tier canon.

Of the four lords, Donna seems to have the most story within the 2nd tier, and has very, very little in the 1st tier. Duke says she's somewhat isolated, and that her "playmates" never leave the house. Miranda's notes state that Donna is mentally ill, and the gardener's diary states/implies (bit of both) that Donna has severe social anxiety. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

Supposedly, her parents committed suicide while she was still a child. This is indicated in concept art/the attached developer's notes. However, the only part that's also directly stated in game is that her parents (specifically her father) died while she was young. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

While Donna only has one voice line in the game (and it's sad), Angie talks a fair bit. Angie seems to disapprove of the other Lords, or at the very least enjoys mocking them, as well as enjoys watching them fight with each other. As Angie is connected to Donna, and Donna has some level of control over her, one can assume that the two have similar (if not the same) opinions. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

Donna was adopted by Mother Miranda as an adult. It's unclear exactly how old Donna was, or what exactly Miranda did as her "mother", just that Donna was excited about it. (1st Tier: Canon)

Other Relevant Information:

Heisenberg refers to the other Lords as his siblings a minimum of 1 time. Similarly to Alcina, however, he openly insults them and seems to hate them. He just, you know, hates Mother Miranda the most. (1st Tier: Canon)

Mother Miranda does not actually give a shit about the four Lords, intended for them to die before the ceremony, and has been manipulating them for her own gain this entire time. Her notes and dialogue make it clear that she only cares about getting Eva back. Somehow mother of the year and worst mother ever. At the same time. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

It's unclear who treats Alcina "like a sister" to the other Lords. Were there cut lines of dialogue that cemented the idea of them being a "family"? Did Miranda call them a "family" as part of pretending she cared about them? I've done my best to dig around, but there's very little in game that treats them as a family of any sort.

As each Lord ruled their own section of the region, they don't have any mentions of interacting with each other outside of meetings with Mother Miranda. None of the notes for any Lord (and their relevant experiments) mention what the others are doing. In game, their environments are very separate, very well divided, though this is likely as much for gameplay as it is for story.

Conclusion:

I do not not believe there is enough in game evidence to suggest that Alcina and Donna consider themselves to be siblings. There's the possibility for a large age gap, Alcina was a fair bit older than Donna when she met Miranda, Donna is a social recluse whose closest bonds were with dead blood relatives and dolls, Alcina openly dislikes (if not hates) the other Lords, they seemingly lived very separate and distanced lives, and Mother Miranda does not enforce the idea of "family". Furthermore, the sheer contrast between how Alcina interacts with/speaks of the other Lords compared to how she interacts with/speaks of her daughters says a lot about her feelings. Even if Heisenberg takes the brunt of her anger, Alcina never once says anything remotely positive about anyone other than Miranda and her daughters.

As Alcina/Bela and Donna are not blood-relatives, the definition of what would count as "incest" does vary depending on who you ask. Personally, I do count non-blood relations as potentially incestuous. For example: Alcina "dating" one of her daughters would be incest, regardless of the fact that she's a mutated human and her daughters are weird swarms of flies.

Now, I do understand how popular the idea of the four Lords being a real, chaotic but still close family is. And as I mentioned above, it's totally valid to not like the Bela///Donna ship, whether it's because you think they're family or some other reason. I don't personally see them that way, even in my definitely-not-canon stories.

Do I personally ship Bela///Donna? Nope. Have I liked art for the ship? Admittedly yes, even if I thought some of it was, like, maiden x Bela because Donna didn't have her veil and I'm a DUMBASS who doesn't always remember to read tags. Would I ever write for it? Yeah, probably, assuming I didn't miss anything in game/that I don't eventually change my mind.

[themonotonysyndrome]

The Queen’s Lynchpin

We’re getting to part 3 of the ‘Successors of the Future”! This week has gone back to being hectic so I could only write this part here and there for only a few hours. Still, I’m happy that I could finally finish it. 

And we have the names of MC’s and Yandere!Malleus children as well as his second wife and the other prince! Any piece of info from @tri3tri Second Wife AU is always fun to read! With that said, I’ll be adding their names into the 2 previous oneshots after this is posted so it’s all align. If you want to know more about this AU, please drop by at @tri3tri blog. Their content and drabbles are amazing!

Lastly, I think it’s alright if I don’t add the link and summary of the previous oneshots of this series in every new piece. The intro is just gonna be super long otherwise. But if you guys think that a link and summary it’s a good, please let me know I’ll be sure to add them in. 

-

“Uh Mama? Have you been hearing... noises in the middle of the night?”

“You mean your sister talking to her mirror in her room in the dead of the night? Then yes, sweetie.”

MC smile, deeply amused, when her son let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s just her talking to Ren.” 

“I’ll tell her to keep it down if she’s talking to Renata at night, don’t worry.” MC assured him with a pat on his head. 

“Thanks, Mama. Say, do you have any plans for today?” Lucien’s sudden question was a little odd to MC. The three of them have been staying in the house - only going out for a grocery run - lately, and she didn’t have any plans to change it. 

“Not really. I was thinking to catch up with some leftover work from the office before Monday comes. Why? Do you want to go anywhere?” MC inquire curiously.

Lucien is quick to shake his head. “Oh, no, no. Umm... Mama, you often look so sad lately. We know that having Ren away at Twisted Wonderland has been hard on you, so I just thought maybe we could all do something to help make you feel better.” He explains with a bit of hesitance, wringing his hands. It’s clear to MC that this is one sensitive topic that he didn’t want to unintentionally hurt her with. 

MC couldn’t help but smile at how thoughtful her little one is. Really, all of her children can be rowdy in their own way but at the end of the day, she always noticed that they tried so hard not to make her worry. But as the parent, it’s her honour to protect her children - not the other way around. Which is why seeing the hesitant expression on Lucien’s face tugs her heart. 

“Oh, Luci. I didn’t mean to worry you and your sisters. It’s just that...” MC paused for a moment to think on how to properly express her feelings. “None of you has ever been separated from me. The issue with your father is one thing, but I can’t help but fret about your oldest sister. Is she eating well over there? Sleeping early on a school day? Oh, but then again, she does have a habit of waking up around 2 in the morning looking for a snack if she sleeps too early.” MC bit her lower lip, she should have told Renata during their last talk to keep some snacks in her room in case she gets hungry. 

Ever since Renata had first contacted Sherrie and taught her the communication runes and she in return, taught her and Lucien on how to draw them on any mirror in the house, they all have been talking to Renata through the large, hanging mirror in the living room every day. 

“We can ask her if she’s been waking up in the middle of night after our dinner, Mama.” Lucien assured their mother. He took her empty tea cup and pour some tea from the still hot pot and push the porcelain cup back to her. They were having tea and a light meal in the kitchen after he had woken up from his nap. 

Sherrie passed on their invitation since she’s too busy livestreaming her latest game in her room. From below, they could hear her muffled voice. 

MC took a sip and hums thoughtfully. “You’re right, Honey. I’ll be sure to do that. Anyway, you mentioned a family activity - what do you have in mind?” Perhaps a distraction is just what she needed to get her mind off Malleus and the inevitable danger he’ll bring. 

Lucien’s eyes brighten in delight. Happy that he could do something to cheer her up. 

“I found this recipe recently and I was hoping that we can all cook together? It’ll be fun I promise!” He pleaded. Among all her children, Lucien is the only one with the knack for cooking. Sherrie can make simple meals whenever she wants. 

Renata, however, needs to be supervised even if she wants to boil a pot of water. 

“Sure! I’d love to. So what’s this recipe you want to cook?” 

Much later when it’s almost dinner time and Sherrie wrapped up her livestream, MC and Lucien are already in the kitchen preparing to cook. Curiously, she glances at the list of ingredients and steps for dinner that was left on the kitchen counter and her eyes bugged out at what they were going to make. 

“I feel like there are things that mankind should never attempt lest the price be their sanity. And this? This is it!” Sherrie shrieked, flapping the flimsy paper incredulously at them. MC is preparing the dough while Lucien makes sure they got all the ingredients out and ready. 

“What? Boba pizza sounds delicious!” Lucien rebuke with a small frown. “And beside, you won’t know if you like them if you haven’t try.” 

Sherrie just slap her forehead at his words, as if she couldn’t believe this. “I know you’re pretty crazy for boba teas but this is ridiculous! Pizza dessert for dinner? Can’t we have something normal, Mama?” She pleaded their mother. 

MC toss her a playful smile as she rolls the dough. “Well honey, it does sound pretty exciting when you said it. Pizza dessert!” When Sherrie’s face scrunched up in disgust, she tries to coax her daughter, “Aww, c’mon, honey. Look, you can order a delivery for yourself but come have fun with us! I’ll even let you toss the dough if you want.” 

Sherrie folded after that. Honestly, making pizza - of any kind - is always messy process, but her children are having fun with smudges of powder on their faces and MC felt her heart lighten just hearing them laugh. Dinner might be unconventional tonight, but it was worth it to see Lucien enjoy eating his pizza and Sherrie reluctant admittance that it tasted alright, if a bit weird. 

Once the kitchen is all cleaned up and their stomachs full, they settled in the living room. MC and Lucien watched as Sherrie used her old, red lipstick to draw the runes on the mirror. The surface rippled once, sinking the runes and reveal Renata in her pyjamas beaming at them. 

“Good evening everyone! How are ya’ll doing?” 

“Hi sweetie. We just had dinner.” MC said, glad that her eldest daughter still looks healthy and happy. 

“You wouldn’t believe what we had for dinner.” Sherrie interjects dryly. The 3 of them are sitting on the couch with MC in the middle. “It’s so weird!”

“But you liked it!” Lucien countered with a smug grin before turning to his oldest sister. “We had boba pizza! It was amazing!”

“Boba pizza!? Nooo! I can’t believe you all ate them without me! I’ve been wanting to try them!” Renata whines. “I wish we can pass stuffs through the mirror. Wait - I might be able to do something about that actually.” She goes on to mutter about needing to bully the headmaster again.  

The family traded what they did during the day, Renata assuring them that yes, she had a storage full of snacks in her room and that her favourite lesson so far is Flying class. Once that’s out of the way, MC asked her daughter, “How are your assignments? Is Leona-senpai’s son helping you out?”

When Renata told them that her History’s assignment partner is none other than Leona’s son, MC was a bit worried if he carries his father prejudice against Malleus towards her daughter, but Renata assured her that other than his funny attempts at posturing and warning growls, Bakari Kingscholar has been nothing but civil and helping out with researching and editing their papers. 

“Yup! We’re nearly done with our homework and I think we’re friends now? He’s a bit of tsundere which makes teasing him so much fun!” Renata giggled. “You know, just today we decided to have lunch together after our assignment and when I went back to my room and check my bag, there was a candy bar inside. He must’ve slip it in when I told him that I snacked often.” 

Sherrie immediately drop her phone. She was mindlessly browsing through her Twitter account while they talked, but her attention perk like a hound dog. “Whoa, whoa wait - he bought you food when you told him that you eat often? Me thinks he might like you, dude.” 

MC’s eyes widen and Lucien gape. Could that be true!? 

But Renata just rolled her eyes. “Oh please, I think he was thanking me for not making him do all the work. You know those tough guy acts? Yeah, it’s nothing special.” 

Sherrie tilt her head, clearly not believing it, but keep it to herself for now. 

“Being the only girl in a school for boys must be tough.” Lucien mused sympathetically. “I’m glad that you have a friend with you, Ren.” 

“Well, Diasomnia students has mostly been friendly yet distant with me so far. Probably because of this,” Renata twirl her fingers beside her horns to emphasise her point. “But it’s cool. So far, no one tries to bully me or anything. And by the way, I’ve been staying out of trouble, Cherry. I haven’t even landed myself in detention so far.” She proudly announced. 

“Yet.” Sherrie snickers. 

Lucien frowns at her. “Ren has been working hard, Cherry. She’s been sticking to your plans, right? I seriously don’t think she will mess it up.” 

“Nah, it’s all cool Luci. I’ve mostly been blowing off steam during Magishift. It’s super fun! I wish you guys could play too.” Renata said and then proceed to explain to her siblings what Magishift is all about. 

That’s another thing that MC had picked up as Lucien grew up. Despite how close her daughters are, they do bickers as sisters tend to and Lucien usually act as the mediator and peacemaker between them when things get too heated. 

MC couldn’t help wonder if her sweet boy would ever be like this if he was raised in Malleus’ castle.

The family talked a little more until it was getting late. After bidding each other goodnight and MC telling her daughter to keep herself safe, she ushered Lucien and Sherrie to their bed and tucked herself in. 

That night, she dreamt of a past memory. However in her dream, all 3 of her children are laughing and free as they grow in her world. 

-

Now that Lucien thinks about it - he doesn’t really know what Sherrie plan is exactly. He’s aware that they’re doing their best to help Renata avoid being discover by their father as long as they can and Mama told her to make friends with the children of her old friends since they helped her out a lot during her school life in Night Raven College but other than that? He doesn’t know what they would do once father found out about their oldest sister. 

That particular though came back in his mind when he woke up from his sleep because he heard Sherrie giggling in her room. With blearily eyes, he checked the time on his phone and groan. 

It’s 3.15 in the morning. 

He push himself out of his warm bed with great difficulties and slowly padded towards Sherrie’s bedroom. 

He knocked twice and groan, “Sherrie? It’s seriously late. Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” 

“Shit, Luci-chan? Sorry, did I woke you up? You can come in if you want. The door is not locked.” 

With a tired grumbled, he swings open the door and zombie-walk to her sister who is sitting in front of her vanity table, talking to Renata. 

“Hey Luci! Sorry that we woke you up!” Renata apologised quickly, guilty that they’ve disturbed their little brother. “I was just reporting to Cherry that I found several hidden and unmarked paths that connects to father’s castle and to the outside world of the Valley of Thorns. I thought it might come in handy so I wanted to share it with her.” 

That sounds interesting to Lucien. He’s a little more awake now. “Did you use your spells to scout the area?”

“I sure did! Haven’t been caught by anyone or any bat so far.” 

“What... what does father’s castle look like?” Lucien couldn’t help but asked. It’s hard to believe that he and his family are actually royalty. That his Mama and sisters used to live in a castle. 

It’s still hard to accept that he’s actually a prince. 

“Gloomy.” Was Renata immediate reply. All her previous good humour vanishes and her hard glare surprises him. “We hardly get any sunshine because father controls the weather with his temper tantrums.”

“Not to mention that we had to live with basically strangers.” Sherrie added. “I never really feel comfortable around the castle’s staffs. Sure we got the family wing all to ourselves but we still had to deal with them.” Both Lucien and Renata understand her unspoken words: having to deal with judgemental strangers is difficult. 

“What are you going to do once father founds out you’re in Twisted Wonderland, Ren? Are you going to go hiding?” Lucien asked. 

It’s Sherrie who answered him, “No. We’re going to make sure that he can’t forcefully take Mama or any of us back to the castle. I just need a little more info and we can act once the 3 of us are in Twisted Wonderland.” She explains. 

“We suspect that once Cherry hits sixteen, the Ebony Carriage will also pick her up and by that time I’ll be in my second year as a student here. If that’s the case, we just need you here and then it’s the second phase.” Renata took over explaining here. “Rumours spread fast in Night Raven College, but it’s not going to reach to father. He’s in an isolated country. Well, not until he’s here.”

Lucien blink, now lost. “He? Who’s he?” 

“We have a halfbrother - Victor. He’s the same age as you, Luci-chan. Looks like father didn’t waste any time getting his second wife pregnant.” Sherrie said with a smile that honestly send cold shivers up his spine. It’s sweet with a poison laced underneath. Lucien seen this smile only once. A girl from school tried to blackmailed and bullied her into doing her biddings. 

He heard that the girl was transferred to another school in a different state soon after when news broke out that she was selling drugs with her boyfriend to the students. 

Lucien would like to believe that the incident had nothing to with his sister, but he’s seen what she does for Renata whenever she lost her homework or to the English Literature teacher that had an issue with her. 

So Lucien needed to asks this. “Are you... are you going to hurt him?” His voice is soft and careful. 

Through the mirror, Renata eyed Sherrie in which his second sister leans into her chair and relaxes. “I won’t, don’t worry. After all, he’s not at fault.” 

Words are Sherrie’s favourite playthings and at that moment, Lucien hopes she means it. 

-

Funny enough, I’ve been calling S/N (Lucien) as Luciel because it means light and I HC that MC sees him as the unexpected light that Malleus gave her. Her daughters are a treasure but Lucien serve as MC’s light. It’s fate! 

So far for Lucien, my main reference for him are two people actually. Dead Master from Black Rock Shooter and Nisha Labyrinth from Elsword! 

Will expand more on them as I continue to write. Also, I’m shit when it comes to timeline and ages so here’s my rough idea so far:

Renata = 16 years old (first-year student)

Sherrie = 15 years old

Lucien = 13 yeard old

I’ll change the kids’ age if Tri reveal them on their blog.  

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Hello, Fishies!-- Viago (WWDITS) x Reader

Prompt: got the idea for this from @alphabetaus​‘s Aquarium AU prompt batch!

Warnings; swearing

Word Count; 1.4k

Notes; this isn’t the best fic I’ve written but it’s alright lol

    You and Nick had been friends since you were in diapers. Sure, he could occasionally be an asshole, but you went through thick and thin together. You were actually roommates when he was bitten, so you were the one stuck taking care of him as he made his transformation. You, understandably, freaked the fuck out. It took some time to wrap your mind around it, but his new behaviors soon grew bearable enough for you. It didn't take Nick long to introduce you to his vampire buddies. He brought you and Stu along to one of their usual clubbing nights, an idea you found hilarious. The evening ended up being more fun than you could've possibly imagined. The vampires quickly adopted you and Stu into their group, assuring the both of you that you were welcome at their flat at any time.

    It had become a sort of personal mission for you and Stu to introduce the vampires to technology. The poor things were clueless to anything modernized. So, the two of you spent a lot of time at their place. Probably more than you did in your own home. During this time, you got the closest to Viago. He tended to follow you around like a lost puppy. He seemed utterly fascinated by everything you did.

    One day, you were lazing on their couch, mindlessly browsing the internet on your laptop while Stu set up a TV. Deacon and Vlad were asking Stu a million questions about televisions and cable, and Viago kept his attention trained on you. He was so focused on watching you type, he nearly jumped out of his seat when you gasped. You excitedly tapped your laptop's screen. "Look! The aquarium is having a glow in the dark event tonight!" Viago's brows knit together.

    "What's that?"

    "Glow in the dark events are the best! Basically, they turn most of the main lights off and just have black lights on to make everything more glowey. They usually hand out a ton of glowsticks, too!" Viago shook his head, and you realized that he probably still had no idea what you were talking about.

    "No, the other thing."

    "Oh, an aquarium?" Viago nodded, and you sat up straight. "You've never been to the aquarium before? Then you've never really lived life! We've gotta go. Come on, go put your normal human clothes on." Viago started to protest, wanting more of an explanation, but you wanted it to be a surprise. You pulled him up from the couch and pushed him toward his room. "You'll find out when we get there. Go change so we're not late!"

    After finally finding a somewhat normal looking outfit for Viago, the two of you raced to the aquarium. You could hardly contain your excitement, feeling like you were back in grade-school on your way to a field trip. You pulled open the door and dramatically bowed. "Good evening, sir. Please, come inside for a night of amazement!" Viago laughed at your antics.

    "Why, thank you! I gladly accept your invitation." You paid the entry fees and gave Viago a handful of glowsticks. The two of you geared up with the neon-colored bracelets and necklaces before linking arms and following the glowing path through the aquarium. Viago lit up like a child at Christmas. He dragged you in every direction, asking what everything was. "Look! This sign says 'juvenile stingrays.'" You leaned forward, looking into the pool. You smiled as one swam close enough for you to touch. Viago looked mortified. "Are you sure you should be doing that? What if it bites you?" You snorted.

    "They're harmless little babies, Vi! Plus, they're used to this. Look, they like it!" The small stingray stayed in place as you pet it. Viago didn't look convinced. Worry was still etched into his features. You carefully took his hand in yours. Before he had a chance to ask what you were doing, you pulled his hand into the water. "Watch, the lil guy will swim right up to you for you to pet him." True to your word, the stingray swam up to yours and Viago's hands. You kept your hand on top of Viago's, gently guiding him on how to pet the creature without spooking it. Viago opened and closed his mouth for a moment, and you raised a brow at him. He finally blurted,

    "I like this." You laughed, bumping your shoulder into him.

    "See! I told you this wasn't so bad. They're actually pretty sweet."

    "No, I like... this." He kept his gaze trained on your joined hands. "With you." You could feel the heat creeping up your neck and into your face. You were flustered, to say the least, and didn't know how to respond. I mean, how do you respond to a several-hundred-year-old vampire saying he likes holding your hand? Viago pursed his lips for a moment before asking, "Do you like it?" You couldn't help the nervous laughter that bubbled in your chest. You finally met his gaze.

    "Yeah, I do." Viago beamed.

    "Wonderful! We shall hold hands more often, then." He froze. Something over your shoulder caught his eye. Before you had a chance to ask what was wrong, his grip tightened on your hand. "Look at the big sharks!" Viago immediately started dragging you towards the large shark tank.

    The two of you explored nearly every inch of the aquarium. On your way home, Viago kept your hand in his. He babbled about how much he enjoyed the evening and wished to return. "We should get an aquarium installed in the flat!" You couldn't help but laugh at his sudden outburst.

    "Or, maybe, you could start with just one fish and work your way up." Viago hummed in agreement. An idea popped into your mind, and you started pulling him down a different street. You arrived at your destination just as one of the workers was walking out of the shop. "Hey! I'm really sorry, but is there any way you could wait a few minutes to close? We need to get a fish. It's important." The guy raised a brow at you. "You see, uh, we just got one for our son the other day, and it died. The little guy's heart will be broken if he finds out. That's why we need a new fish to replace it with." The worker sighed.

    "Alright, come on in, but you've got ten minutes." You quickly said your thanks and pulled Viago into the store. The vampire was overjoyed at the idea of getting a fish to take home. He ventured around the store, looking at all the different types of fish, while you gathered the needed supplies.

    "(Y/N), look at these-- they're so fancy! Hello, fishies!" Viago ended up choosing a red and white betta. On the rest of the walk home, he carefully cradled the bag containing the fish in his arms. You could tell something was bothering him. He was being unnaturally quiet. You stopped him before he walked in the front door of the flat.

    "Viago, what's wrong? You're being way too quiet."

    "Oh, I was just... uh, thinking about the story you told the shopkeeper." Your brows knit together. He lowered his voice. "About us having a son." Your face flushed. You didn't think about your words before they came out of your mouth. It seemed like a valid excuse to keep the shop open for a few extra minutes. The two of you awkwardly stood on the flat's doorstep for a while, neither of you knowing what to say next. You cleared your throat.

    "Well, we do have a son now." This time, Viago was confused until you pointed at the fish. A smile crept its way across his features. "And our son needs a place to sleep, so why don't we get his tank set up?"

    It didn't take long for the both of you to set up the fish tank. You were quite proud of it, actually. The fish seemed to enjoy it too. You sat on the floor next to Viago, both watching the fish swim around its tank. "Our son needs a name," Viago announced. He inched closer to the tank to better inspect the fish. "What do you suppose suits him?"

    "Gilburt the Fancy." Viago chuckled before nodding.

    "Yes, I think that works well. Hello, Gilburt the Fancy!"

~*~*~

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Also gonna tag @donutwheel and @honorarytenenbaum​ since they commented on my last post :)