#might make another one but Cursed with all my unhinged guys

[ruvviks]

good evening mutuals how are we all doing

[whoishotteranimepolls]

My observations after running this blog for a month

I have observed trends relating to multiple fandoms and how they behave/interact with my polls here's some examples. I hope someone finds this entertaining as I did. Because I do read most of the comments and tags

Black Butler, Jujutsu Kaisen and Dorohedoro. You guys are the most insane, feral, unhinged and I have debated marking my post as mature content simply because I knew what you will put in your tags and comment. I worry about you people sometimes Because I do read what you put in those comments and tags and now I know what you will allow these characters to do to you and what you want to do to them. (This also applies certain specific characters from other fandoms) But you three. My little unhinged trio. It's just fandom wide. Doesn't matter the character. You will go crazy. It's entertaining to watch. Don't get me wrong but I hope everyone is doing okay

One piece You guys request a lot and show up. You guys also like meme and cursed polls. Yes they are funny most of the time and you guys have plenty of characters to choose from for the meme and cursed variety. But your fandom also has a list of characters that fall under the should I mark this as mature content because of what is inevitably going to end up in the tags and comments. Because I have seen your characters referred to as "daddy" or "mommy" Way more than JJK or the other two members of the unhinged trio and those fandoms are way more crazy collectively.

Trigun is the most loyal ride or die fandom that will show up for any poll with one of their characters no matter what. With a level of enthusiasm that is impressive but lacks the pure crazy of the unhinged trio

Mob Psycho 100 I've only had one character submitted from your show but you guys show up almost as much as Trigun but I don't know if that loyalty translates to other characters

Jojo you guys either show up and vote and reblog quietly or are just as bad as the unhinged trio 50/50 chance also depends on the character so I never know what to expect.

Now Attack on Titan. Is that fandom alive? Because I have gotten a few requests to do their characters but they have never shown up to defend their character. Which is funny because they're still in the top 20 anime and Manga fandom charts. But as far as I can tell the fandom does not exist or they're invisible so are you guys doing okay? I know the final season was supposed to be traumatic or something but I mean so was JJK season 2 and it just turned that fandom into an unhinged mess so you all should be fine or at least have a pulse. Do you guys need to speak to the Hannibal fandom for support? I mean they're still alive all these years later even after their tragic ending.

Hunter x Hunter You're a fandom that shows up consistently. Vote and reblog but you don't make a scene. That's all I can really say. It's very similar to how the Trigun fandom behaves but not quite the same enthusiasm as Trigun that is ride or die no matter the character

Fate is another fandom where you either show up or you don't. There is no in between. I wonder if it depends on the character. But I don't know. There just hasn't been enough polls

Soul Eater. You guys are unhinged only when it comes to Stein any other character I don't know but Stein 100% ride or die.

Dungeon Meshi very similar to JoJo except if it's Senshi or Falin guaranteed you guys will be just as bad if not worse than the unhinged trio any other character there's a chance you might not show up at all

Now to all the people who find the Senshi polls annoying. I would like to apologize for the monster I mean meme I accidentally created. It was never my intention for this to get out of hand I hope you can forgive me one day. But apparently they're going to kill King Charles. I still don't get it I might be getting old

If I haven't mentioned your fandom, it's probably because your characters don't get submitted enough for me to notice a trend but I will be watching. This is just what I've observed so far I hope you enjoyed my observations. I found these trends interesting

[crediblebombthreat]

I forgot how good of a bossfight Mohg is

Fought him last night on an under-leveled and under-geared dex character. So I actually had to pay close attention. I remember liking him, but I forgot why he's up there with Ludwig in my personal favorite Fromsoft bossfights.

He just has so much going for him as a secret boss. Every angle of the game, despite giving you an unhinged amount of freedom to go and do as you please, has some sort of Mohg residue on it. All paths lead to Mohg.

The first NPC you talk to -- Varre, the one that people who haven't even played Elden Ring know about -- is a devotee to Mohg. After you kill a Demigod, Varre moves to Liurnia, and sets up shop at this sick Blood Church. He tells you to invade people and ruin their evenings. He hypes up Mohg. After you do three invasions (even if you get your shit slapped) he gives you an item to teleport to Mohg's mausoleum...and it's this massive underground structure you saw like 15 hours ago in your playthru because you forgot about Varre until halfway through Leyndell. Mohg is there. He is everything you wanted.

Or you never talked to Varre or you killed him because he talked shit and called you a virgin. And instead you read about this secret child of Marika. And then you fight him and he's Morgott. THEN you read that he had a twin. And that twin is evil and rebelled against the Golden Order. But Gideon thinks he's a delusional freak. 10 hours later you get the Lord of Blood Exaltation talisman and upon reading the description you're like "who the fuck is this guy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and start ripping out your hair. And then you unlock a secret area: the special unrevealed part of the map in the Snowfield that leads to the Haligtree of Miquella -- another character that's dripping from the lore, and who is closely related to this mysterious Mohg "The Lord of Blood" fellow. And while exploring the area you stumble upon this blood-soaked teleporter and you're like "no." And it teleports you to this bloody swamp area in the undergound and you're like "no." And then he's there, and you fight him and he does a little countdown halfway through the fight and you can't avoid it and it kills you. What?? And then a couple of hours later when you're trying to make sure you got everything for the final boss, you see a square on your map that you now know signifies a church. And you see one in the Altus Platau! And a blood-themed NPC invades you and you're like "no." And you get this crystal tear. And its description is as follows: Can be mixed in the Flask of Wonderous Physick. The resulting concoction purifies the curse from Mohg, Lord of Blood's terrifying rite of blood. Tell me, would you lose your mind? Would you flip the fuck out?

Or maybe neither of these apply, and you've just read about him here and there. And you go through the Leyndell sewer in search of forbidden knowledge. And then who else is there but fucking Mohg! You've heard your friends talk about him, you've heard him hyped up, and he's here and it seems fake. Your friends said he was in an underground area, this is a sewer. That feels different. You whip his ass and you get towards the Frenzied Flame and you're like "ok. but this isn't blood...it's crazy. who was that blood guy? why was he here?" And then you go back and look for info on him and soon enough you've also caught the brainrot and you have to hunt this guy down and kill him or else you might go insane.

If these sound off-puttingly specific, it's because they're all different ways that my friends who played Elden Ring experienced the buildup to Mohg. It's inescapable. And his bossfight -- I haven't even mentioned his bossfight -- it's insane. The way he gently talks to Miquella and then his voice changes to a gravelly malice when speaking to the tarnished. The way he fucking counts down in latin to zero before doing his phase 2 animation. He grows wings. He's gay. His moveset is dramatic and theatrical -- he looks like he's enjoying putting on a show for a stranger. He puts a curse on you. He's so lonely. His boss weapon is fucking sick even after being nerfed a billion times. His theme is excellent. He's weak to bleed, but either him or you bleeding in his presence gives him 20% extra damage! That fight mechanic is so fucking sick, and it plays into his characterization so fucking well! He has absolutely everything!

I dunno. I've never played Kingdom Hearts, but Mohg gives me the same sort of shock and awe a 10-year-old in 2002 might've felt fighting Sephiroth. Like, if you're never gonna play Elden Ring take like 30 minutes to watch Jerma's video on Mohg. His childlike wonder wonderfully communicates the slow buildup of Mohg Madness you get over like 80-90 hours of gameplay.

[koreis]

Made another sticker a while ago :3 might print it later.

The joke behind it is that Sabo is the kind of guy who would favor psychological torture and he’s plain unhinged and what better torture than threat by chicken? An acquaintance actually put a terrible image in my head after I drew this. Here’s a block of text about it:

The man’s back is to you. He’s dressed in blues, midnight vest and icy shirt, but his warm golden curls seems to bounce with sunlight as the breeze sends them dancing. He cuts a regal figure in the nothingness, with his back soldier straight, like the kind of gentleman one’s parents would want them to bring home. However, you’d have to get to know him first. He turns his head. He’s looking at something. His eyes are the purest black, or are they the darkest blue? You wouldn’t know. What is he looking at?

You blink. And you’re in a chair. Looking through the eyes of someone from another life, or maybe another future. The colors are all wrong, too dark, and something is swimming. You think it’s your head. The man is there again. His face is youthful, boyish.

He’s far away, but he’s noticed you’ve awoken. He smiles. It’s a nice grin, but too much teeth to be a friendly one. Barely anything is visible, but a light shines above his him. A halo. You think. He sets his gaze on you, heavy eyes adding pounds to your shoulders. You squirm and find your movements stopped. You’re bound, trapped between those eyes.

“You’ve never made this easy,” he says, words echoing down the hall. He’s shifts his foot, taking a step toward you.

“Perhaps because they’re a far greater threat to you than anyone who would look for them. Unlucky for you, I’m not anyone.”

Another foot.

He’s captivating. Maybe it’s the bad lighting that makes you focus on his face, the delicate features behind blonde curls, the slight upturn to his nose, or maybe it’s just his face. There’s a scar running through it, over one eye. Objectively, it’s ugly, but to you, it’s like a flame.

Another step.

And he may be getting too close. He’s a stranger, and you’re a captive. Perhaps this situation scares you. It should. It’s bizarre. But you feel like you’ve met him in a dream once.

He’s holding something. Bright yellow, with red lips. A crude imitation of a bird, a monstrosity.

You want to ask about it. Ask about him. Anything. But you have no words.

He squeezes it and it groans something dying. He squeezes it again, and it wails.

You decide that you don’t like it. But you don’t have to words to make him stop.

Another step, and he squeezes it again. Twice now. Four times. The halls echo with its tortured screams.

And finally, his eyes are level with yours. Dark swirling storms. Your noses are almost touching, and his grin is feral. Fearless. All teeth, with a hook to his lips. And he holds his cursed bird next to your ear. It caresses you, smooth and gentle. Your breath catches. He squeezes it, and your head feels like drowning.

It sounds like death, like hell. The repeated wail of the ill at ease, the buried but not at peace, the restless. And then it stops. And he giggles with glee. Sweet and charming. Your eyes refocus. His face is dazzling.

“So. Will you tell me where they are?”

You can only answer in silence.

He frowns. “I can subject you to this forever you know.”

Your heart jumps at the threat. And you finally find your words. Some of them.

“What are you even looking for?”

He scoffs. “My memories. I know you have them.”

Memories? What memories? You blink again, and he’s holding the chicken in your face. Right. That’s what it is. A chicken. Out of the corner of your vision, you can see him watching, cataloging your reactions. He bares his teeth.

“So,” he starts, “What’ll it be?”

~~~

This is a whole excerpt of nonsense that I just wrote btw. TLDR: someone told me that they imagined Sabo walking toward them squeezing the rubber chicken in a menacing manner—I couldn’t unsee it.

I just moved into college, which is very exciting and scary. Working hard on the next chapter of my fic; hopefully it’ll meet my and readers’ expectations. Idk how writers manage to keep a balance between canon and divergence as well as in-character and expansion of character, kind of like finding the middle ground between salt and pepper in a dish. I guess it’ll come with experience. I’m so happy and weird about so many things right now. It’s a growing up thing me thinks. Love you guyss :333333

[malevolantkitcheen]

Hello dear, are you still open for a jjk matchup? If not, you can ignore this. I'm ok with whatever guy from jjk.

Female, 20s, gemini, enfj.

Personality wise, I got two sides (stereotypical for a gemini, ik). Most of the times, I'm affectionate, teasing, playful and loving but I also get dead serious, cold and slightly intimidating in a blink of an eye if it's needed. I'm basically that meme: I can be your angel or your devil. Extremely ambitious when I want something or when I want to excel at something. Really protective and caring to my dear ones (I'd do anything for them). I might sound and look stiff but I can get fun and unhinged too sometimes, it depends on who I'm with.

Unfortunately, I tend to overwork myself in silence. I bottle up everything and walk it off, continue working and caring for others more. I'm pretty confident most of the time and can stand up for myself no matter what.

My love language is physical touch and gift giving. I have a calm presence as a lover. I like to help my partner relax from all daily restraints (and also experience whatever fantasies they have).

My hobbies are: reading, martial arts, dancing, playing guitar.

Appearance: short and curvy, copper brown hair, hazel eyes, a lot of beauty spots and subtle freckles on my face. I also have a hidden tattoo of a crescent moon.

Thank you so much for your time, please take care of yourself and have a wonderful day/night!

For Jujutsu-Kaisen i match you with..

Suguru Geto

- When you and Geto first met, you assumed that he was a generally serious individual. However, over time you both realised that your personalities meshed almost perfectly. After a tiresome day, Geto has a habit of going quiet and keeping to himself, but without a doubt you always find a way to cheer him up.

- Similarly, you can often get lost in your work and spend hours perfecting what you’re working on, especially if it interests you once in a while. Geto recognises that you are passionate about your career but gets frustrated when you work yourself too hard. He ends up going out of his way to make sure you come home on time and relax. He always cooks for you when he knows you’ve had a hard day.

- As your relationship with Geto got more serious, you began moving in with one another. You knew this would be difficult, especially considering that sorcerer and non-sorcerer relationships weren’t necessarily approved of. However, you were both dead set on making things work. You managed to move into a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, it wasn’t anything spectacular but you were both unbelievably excited to move in.

- Geto would start getting home later as he became more and more focused on refining his skills and cursed technique. He was exhausted. Each time he would return home he would say little to no words but would always end up falling asleep with his head in your lap, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist; he loved the way your touch just makes him melt.

- He loves listening to you talk about every new book that you read and always asks if he can borrow them once you have finished reading. After all, you two had met in a book store. He loves reading them just so he can feel more connected to you. When he’s finished reading them for himself, he is always excited to tell you about it, explaining the plot line and characters even though he knows you already know what it’s about. You love this about him.

- He always makes sure that he’s gentle with you and he is always unbelievably apologetic when accidentally hurts you, even if it was just a scratch or pinch. You mean everything to him and he would do anything if it was for you.

[autisticempathydaemon]

Redacted-tober 2023 Day Twenty-Five

Prompt: Hudson & Trick

Pairing: Hudson/Original Listener

cw: Mild language, tense situations, Hudson calls his listener Maestro

Summary: DJ Anxiety gets an anxiety-inducing call on air.

Read on AO3 here!

<- Previous Day

“-and that, dear listeners, is why I won’t sleep with another air elemental and electro-energetic at the same time… probably. Never say never,” Hudson croons into the microphone with a low chuckle and an audible grin. “After all, who wouldn’t want to live like Scorpion? Maestro, play me out with Rock You Like a Hurricane!” A moment passes, but there’s no familiar click and hum of his sound tech playing a track over the station broadcast but the beep of an incoming call being patched through.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” a jeering, gravelly voice says, making Hudson laugh with a surprised snort and a roll of the eyes.

“I’m more of a movie musical guy myself, caller, though I’ll try anything once,” Hudson says, putting back on that flirty, DJ Anxiety persona he adopts for the late night shows. “Any song requests or other questions for me?”

“Yeah… trick or treat?” Hudson laughs again, spinning the fidget ring on his finger and checking the sound levels.

“What kind of trick did you have in mind? Are you going to scream and peak my waveform?”

“No,” the caller says with an unhinged giggle. “But your pretty assistant might.” Hudson spins around in his chair, damn the fucking audio, and feels his pulse jump at sight of the abandoned soundbooth.

“Who is this? Who connected you?” he asks, rifling through his desk trying to find his cellphone. “ We track all these calls, you know; whatever this bullshit is, I’m not fucking having it. Where is my Maestro?”

“Somewhere else,” the caller says in a taunting sing-song while Hudson starts pulling out drawers, cursing his absentmindedness. “Somewhere else with a cool, polite boss who says please and thank you when he asks for things.” There’s a bang behind him, and Hudson whirls around again to find his sound technician and dear friend banging against the glass with one hand and a small gadget- a voice changer- in the other.

“You SHITHEAD!” Hudson cries in relief and anger, throwing a stress ball at the window and their laughing, smug face.

“And the cursing, always the cursing! Ghostface isn’t going to kill me; it’s going to be the FCC fees!”

[mentally-unavailable]

How To Court A Cryptid: 101 Chapter 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER or NEXT CHAPTER

Content warning: Cursing, threats of violence, minor violence, transphobia and homophobia, leftist/anarchist views (Not really a warning, but for those who don’t agree with those views), smoking

“Hello chat! How are we doing today!?” Tommy yelled into his mic, talking to chat as he started his stream. 

I sat on the side watching him talk to the chat, I couldn’t see chat but I could tell they were questioning why the lights were off, since Tommy kept smiling and trying not to giggle. 

“Why are the lights off?” Tommy asked squinting at chat, I then rolled into the camera’s view.

“Well, typically cryptids like dark places where they can’t be seen” I said rolling in and leaning so I could see chat.

Chat then went 1 million miles per second they were all spamming cryptid and being amazed that I was real. I started to laugh really hard because some of the chats messages.

“Well, chat this is the Dream SMP discord cryptid; also known as- Can I say your name?” Tommy asked looking over at me. I smiled,

“Uh, I prefer Bas or bastard here on the innerwebs, but if you want sure you can say my name. Just don’t give like my home address or whatever” I said looking at chat smiling. 

“what? Why would I- never mind. Okay chat this is Bastard.” Tommy said smiling looking over chats messages “Hey, can we turn on the lights?”

“UGGGHHHH, I guess” I said getting up and walking over to the light switch. I turned it on and saw Tommy walk over to see and stand next to me. I gave him a confused facial expression.

“Chat wants to see the height difference, you goblin” He said smiling looking down at me. I quickly stood my tippy toes, easy with the boots

“Okay, fit check, as you can see I have the superiors fashion sense chat. Tommy here has none, write that down” I said walking back to my chair.

“I do not! I have a great fashion sense!” Tommy said looking at me offended I started to cackle like a hyena

“Yeah, to be fair though, you are a teenager who live that streamer life style so I understand” I said after catching my breathe from laughing, Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah” He said crossing his arms, I looked over at chat

‘Gamer Bf and Alt s/o goals’

‘Are you a boy or a girl? I really can’t tell’

“Ew, I will punt you straight into the sun you heathens” I said with a face

“HEY! Don’t threaten my chat!” Tommy yelled at me

“They were shipping us. Ew, he is like my little brother. This isn’t sweet home Alabama people” I replied

“Okay fair enough, also chat they use they/them pronouns, respect that please” Tommy said looking at the monitor

“Thank you, so what are we gonna do?” I asked leaning back on my chair and grabbing the container of brownies.

“We could go on the SMP and mess with people” Tommy said grabbing a brownie and popping it into his mouth.

“Cool, give me the grand tour” I said popping a brownie into my mouth

Tommy then booted up Minecraft and got onto the SMP server, he made sure to show on stream

“Okay, lets show the cryptid how to be cool” Tommy said moving his character around

I looked over at the camera unamused, I looked at the stream and saw my face. I started to get uncomfortable and looked down.

“I am being perceived and I don’t think I like it...” I said picking at my nails

“You okay?” Tommy said looking over at me, I smiled and shook my head yes

“It’s okay, I’m just use to being blurry not in 4k resolution” I said chuckling

“Oh hey Dream is on” Tommy said looking on the list,

“He’s the sever owner right?” I asked looking on scream

“yes” Tommy said

“So, he’s like a goverment?” I asked smirking

“what are you thinkin?” Tommy asked looking over at me

I smiled before shrugging and setting down the container

“Well, as an anarchist, I don’t really like the government. So, maybe I could attack him while screaming ‘ACAB’ or ‘Down with the government bitches’ idk. Wait- will that get you in trouble. My bad” I said cutting myself off worried I said something that will get Tommy in trouble. He started laughing, more wheezing

“Omg, yes! Let’s do it!!” He yelled moving towards Dream and others of the server. I smiled,

‘Cryptid says ACAB?’

‘Anarchist? Technoblade might like this!’

Some of the chat said amazed I said something like that,

“Yes, chat ACAB all the way, demolish the government! Consume the rich people!!” I yelled excitedly

“Okay, how do you wanna do this?” Tommy asked

“Okay, I’ll attack while you get us into VC and you scream then I yell ‘ACAB bitches’“ I said scooting him over so I can take control of his character

“Okay good” Tommy said getting into the VC “Here we go!”

“By the way, I’m bad at Minecraft” I yelled before we joined and attacked Dream.

“AHHHHH” Tommy yelled

“ACAB BITCHES” I yelled after him attacking Dream

“Huh? Tommy! What the Fuck?” Dream yelled before he pulled out his own sword and started swinging

“Oh fuck!!” I yelled trying to get away

“Move!!” Tommy yelled before he died

“Uhhh, my bad” I said smiling at him, Tommy rolled his eyes

“Tommy what the hell man? Why did you attack me?” Dream asked

We both looked at each other before I smirked and leaned into the mic

“Tommy is no longer with us” I said deepening my voice

“What!? Tommy did you get hacked? I’ll open your stream” Sapnap said with Dream and George agreeing.

Tommy muted himself, turned off the music, then got up and moved the camera zooming in my face and then ran and turned off the lights. My face was only illuminated my the screen light, Tommy then hid, I was confused before he looked at me and winked. I turned and stared into the camera with a dead look.

“AHHHHHH!? WHAT THE FUCK!???” Was all we heard from the others, as we both started laughing

“The cryptid is real!?” George yelled 

“Y’all have Discord Admin energy bitches” I said before we quit the VC and started wheezing. I started coughing and grabbed out my drink from my bag. I opened my Monster and chugged. Tommy kept wheezing so hard,

“Omg, did you guys hear them!? Omg that was so funny!” Tommy yelled, I chuckled

‘Dream: What the fuck!?’

‘Sapnap: GOT EM!’

“Dream is actually our Discord admin” Tommy said between laughing

“Ah, cool. He doesn’t have it actually, but now knowing. HMMMM” I said looking at the camera smirking

“Yeah, and Gogy is his discord kitten” Tommy said putting everything back to normal

“An I oop- Wait, that’s georgenotfound right?” I asked

Tommy leaned back into his chair giggling “yup, he’s the bestest man ever” he said smiling

“I thought that was Philza Minecraft?” I asked having a confused face

“Wait! Phil is on! Do you wanna meet the biggest man? Philza Minecraft” Tommy asked

“I thought you were the biggest man?” I asked smirking

“I am, well- we share the title anyways” Tommy said as he joined the VC

“Tommy, we just had your stream open!” we were met with,

Tommy started wheezing again, I smiled ‘Brothers’ I thought

“You’re going to get banned” A voice said; ‘Technoblade’ I thought remembering his voice from some of Tommy’s streams.

“Chaotic little shit” Philza said laughing

“The cryptid is real! Oh my god I have to tell Quackity, he thought you were using photoshop or whatever!” Wilbur yelled laughing

“God has let me live another day, so, I’m gonna make it everyone's problem” I said snickering, while I felt my face heat up. ‘God I feel like a zoo animal’ I thought smiling awkwardly

I don’t know any of Tommy’s friends really, and they don’t know much about me. Only that I’m Tommy’s scary friend and what they’ve seen from pictures and probably dumb stories he told them.

Tommy took control of the game, making sure the stream was entertained. He answered with giggles.

“Did you really bite a kid in school for picking on Tommy?” 

‘FUCK’ I thought, making a surprised face

“Well you see there! Uhh-” I tried to say

“They also threatened a dude with a Selenite knife once!” Tommy chimed in

“Yeah, that’s true, but both fuckers deserved it okay!” I said as I felt my face get hotter from embarrassment

“God your both equally feral” Phil said laughing, Wilbur giggled and Techno stayed mostly silent besides a small laugh. Tommy explained he was ‘awkward around new people’. ‘Social anxiety. MOOD’ I thought smiling.

“I personally prefer ‘unhinged’ but pop off I guess” I said shrugging

“Feral cryptid! Feral Cryptid” Wilbur chanted, soon the chat also spammed it

“So, this is THE Philza Minecraft” Tommy said as if he didn’t just say I bit a person and threatened another with a knife. “An honor right?”

“Hello, pleasure to meet you” I said smiling awkwardly

Phil laughed, Tommy looked offended “This is Philza Minecraft! Creator of Minecraft! Show some respect!” Tommy yelled

“Didn’t that other dude make the game?” I asked confused

“Yeah, but he was a wrongen. So, we joke that Philza made it instead” Wilbur explained

“Oh, yeah he was a fucking bigot right?” I asked, everyone went quiet “Should I have not said that? My ba-” 

“no, no” Wilbur said giggling “No, that was perfect. I wouldn’t have said it but you hit the nail on the head”

“Ah okay” I said with a small smile

“They are very radical” Tommy said smiling, I laughed awkwardly

“We heard” Techno said when amusement

I ended up taking off my jacket, revealing all my tattoos on my arms

‘WOAH!’

‘Are those real?’

“Yes, chat they are real, some are done professionally, others are stick and pokes. Don’t do it unless you know what your doing” I said raising my arms to show off my art

“Yeah, they piercing their own nose though!” Tommy yelled

“Oh, my god, that is dangerous.” Phil said worried

“Yeah, most I did myself or my sister did. She wanted to be a tattoo artist at one point so I just let her do whatever on me. Don’t worry they were done safely, mostly” I said laughing

“what does the skull say?” Techno piped up, I smiled, showing the camera my tattoo on my right fore arm. It was a leopard skull with grapes running out of the left eye socket dripping liquid. Under was a chalice, the piece was surrounded by a diamond. 

“It’s a piece dedicated to the god Dionysus. One of the first I ever got done professionally. And yes chat it hurt like a bitch” I said showing the tattoo

“Hello!” two voices popped into the call

“TUBBO!” Tommy yelled, I snapped my head towards the screen

“Tubbo? Isn’t that the guy you were calling when you broke your wrist?” I asked, Tommy wheezed

“Oh is that (y/n)?” Tubbo asked, I smiled

“Hey bubbs, how are you?” I asked

“Wait you both know each other?” Ranboo piped in

“Yes, you see some time ago, we were at the skate park. I was skate boarding and Tommy was on the phone with Tubbo. Tommy then wanted to do a trick. So, I take the phone and Tommy then fails miserly and breaks his fucking wrist! We were on call the whole time to and at the hospital” I said laughing

“Ah, sounds about right” Ranboo said

“What does that mean!?” Tommy yelled, Tubbo was laughing

“I’m good (y/n), thank you for reminding me of that” Tubbo said between laughs

“wait your name is (y/n)?” Wilbur pipes in, Tommy looked scared for a second

“Yeah, that is my name. I go by Bas or Bastard on social media though” I said shrugging. 

“Bastard?” Phil asked confused

“Can I promote myself?” I asked looking over at Tommy, he nodded smiling

“Yeah, I go by Cryptid_Bastard. I post art or whatever” I said relaxed

“That fits you” Tubbo said, I smiled

“Thanks bubbs” I said smiling

After a few hours we ended the stream and said goodbye to everyone. Me and Tommy leaned back in our chairs and sighed.

“Well, that was fun. I like your friends” I said smiling,

“Yeah, you can come on another stream another time if you want” Tommy said smiling, I nodded my head

“Yeah, well I need a break. I’m gonna go on a walk if you don’t mind. You wanna come?” I asked as I stood up and stretched

“Nah, I’m gonna chat with Tubbo for a bit” He said, I nodded before grabbing my bag and leaving the room. I walked out and said hi to his parents and informed them I was going on a walk. I walked out the door and towards the street. After getting to the sidewalk I grabbed out a cigarette and my lighter. I lit up, and took a deep draw. I ended walking towards the park while smoking,

*VRR VRR* I heard as my phone started vibrating in my bag. I dug around a pulled it out, it was notifications from twitter. I unlocked my phone and opened twitter, I had a whole wave of people following me and commenting on my art. I smiled before getting ready to tweet. I opened the camera and angled it to show me, I had my cigarette in my other hand making sure not to show it. I smiled taking the picture before typing and posting.

Cryptid_Bastard

*insert picture of you*

Welcome everyone, welcome to my corner of the internet! (:

I turned off my phone before walking towards the park.

‘Chaos isn’t so bad’

A/N: I hope y’all liked this. I’ve introduced SOME of the romantic interests! LET’S GO!! I’m gonna go hibernate for like a million years now. Stay hydrated! :P

TAGLIST: 

@teenage0jealousy

@smolbox-png

@yourimaginaryfriiendd

@venusliily-blog

@mega-trash-cringe​

@jaciahbabes

@ponyboytoddandthebatgreasers

@ahmya-4

If you would like to be added please comment here:  Taglist for HTCAC:101 (How to Court A Cryptid: 101)

[guardianofrivendell]

Guarding Your Heart - chapter 2

Modern!Fíli AU written by @laurfilijames and @guardianofrivendell

Summary: Bodyguard AU: Lucy gets dragged into her father’s past against her will and is possibly in danger. Fíli gets assigned to her as her bodyguard. He doesn’t want to be there, she doesn’t want him to be there either. But then things get serious and in turns out Lucy is indeed in danger.

Warnings: mention of drinking and abduction, practically naked Fíli (twice... we don’t know how that happened... Really!), one suggestive moment and the expected amount of sass and smirks. 

A/N: Are you ready for chapter 2? Buckle up, because it’s a long one (7k+ words... we’re so sorry - and no, we couldn’t split it up into two chapters because of... reasons). We had a lot of fun writing this chapter, a little too much because we had to cut a few scenes to make it shorter :) Have fun reading and let us know what you think, we love reading the comments and speculations!

GUARDING YOUR HEART MASTERLIST

Laurfilijames masterlist Guardianofrivendell masterlist

The morning sun came peeking through the blinds and slowly made its way over to Lucy’s bed, sliding closer and closer with every passing minute until it finally reached her face.

Now most people consider waking up with the sun shining and the birds singing their morning songs as a perfect start of the day. Who wouldn’t want to live their life like a Disney princess right? But not Lucy… 

No, Lucy wasn’t exactly what you would call a morning person. 

The only reason she would be awake around sunrise was because she didn’t go to bed at all and was still up partying. There was no way anyone would get her out of bed a minute earlier than she absolutely had to.

Lucy groaned when she felt the warmth on her face and hid underneath her duvet. It should be considered illegal to wake up before your alarm. 

Wait a minute… The sun was shining, her alarm was set at 7 am. This shouldn’t be possible. What time was it? 

Her arm appeared from underneath the duvet and patted the night table a few times in search of her phone. When she couldn’t find it, she threw back the duvet and looked around the room in a light panic. Now where could she… oh.

Everything from the day before finally caught up to her. 

How her new babysitter took away her phone, and then had the nerve to come and ask for her laptop and tablet too. He even scolded her for slamming her bedroom door, like she was still a child. In her own home!

She stared at her open door. Him and his stupid rules...

She thought back to their argument about it yesterday. How he threatened to unhinge all her doors if she wouldn’t listen, and she in turn might have accused him of being a pervert. Fíli had pulled his hair in frustration before he thundered down the stairs again, mumbling something about impossible rich brats.

Speaking of… It was awfully quiet. He was still here, wasn’t he? 

Lucy crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the open door of her bedroom, sticking her head out into the hallway. Nothing.

Without getting her hopes up too much, she made her way to the edge of the landing and peeked over the railing into the living room.

“I can hear you, you know,” a voice sounded from the couch. “You’re not exactly trying to be subtle.”

Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes. Nope, not gone yet.

Her bare feet dragged her down the stairs and to the living room before she realised she was still in her night clothes: a black tank top and her grey shorts. 

Lucy paused, should she go back upstairs and change? Wasn’t this weird? 

There was a stranger in her house and she was barely dressed. Chad would have a fit if he knew. It might even make Fíli uncomfortable.

But hey, she was in her own house! If she wanted to walk around like this, she could. If he couldn’t handle it, he knew where the door was.

Fíli was lying stretched out on his back on the couch, his head resting on his arms, feet on the arm rest. 

“Comfortable, are we?” Lucy asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

She noticed he had rolled up his sleeping bag already and stowed it away with his pillow. It didn’t come as a surprise that he had his bed made as soon as he was out of it. Even if technically his bed was her couch. He shifted so he was sitting upright, and looked at his watch.

“Do you always sleep this late?” he wondered. 

“Why, what time is it?”

“It’s well past 10.”

Lucy raised her arms and let them drop at her sides again. “Well I wouldn’t know now, would I? You took away my phone! And that’s my alarm clock.” She mumbled the last bit.

“You have heard of an actual alarm clock before, haven’t you?” he said sarcastically. 

“Yes,” she hissed, her annoyance increasing by the second. “I just don’t have one because I happen to live in the 21st century and I use my phone like every other person!”

She walked into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, desperate for coffee, and took a clean bowl out of the dishwasher for her breakfast. When she turned around Fíli was standing on the other side of the island, looking very smug as he plopped a travel-sized alarm clock down onto the counter. 

“There. Now you’ll be able to tell the time and wake up before the day is half over.” 

“It’s not like I have anything to get up for…” she mumbled as she worked on brewing her coffee. 

Of course he had something like that on hand. What else did he have stashed away in his bags? Likely everything one would need to survive out in the wilderness for days on end. 

She opened the fridge to get the milk for her cereal and almost dropped her bowl in surprise. Yesterday her fridge was practically empty. Not even enough food in it to keep that bloody mouse alive. Which is why she panicked when she heard she wasn’t allowed to leave the house again. 

But now she was looking at a fully stocked fridge. Everything she could ever need was there: fruits, vegetables, yoghurt, milk, drinks, stuff to make sandwiches, …

“Told you I’d take care of it.”

Lucy turned around to face him. “How did you...?”

Fíli was now leaning against the counter, arms and legs crossed. He shrugged in response to her question. She didn’t need to know everything. 

“Did you leave the house?” she asked him, taking the milk out and closing the fridge with her hip.  

“No.”

“You got it delivered?” Lucy didn’t hear the bell, but then again, she was asleep or he could’ve got to the door before the delivery guy had the chance to press the button. 

“No.”

She looked up at him again and tilted her head. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Fíli just smiled at her and went back to the living room without saying another word.

Lucy took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Easy now, don’t let him get under your skin! 

She placed the milk back in the fridge and opened a cupboard to get her cereal, and almost gasped aloud. Not believing what she saw, she started opening the other cupboards and was met with the same view. Just like her fridge was now fully stocked, every cupboard was filled to the brim with canned and dry foods.

“You’re welcome by the way!” Fíli shouted from his place on the couch. 

She might have closed the cupboard door a little harsher than necessary after that remark.

After breakfast Lucy went upstairs and changed into her running clothes again. 

Yes, yes, Fíli had said she couldn’t leave the house, but she really needed to get some fresh air. It had only been a day, and she already felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her plan was simple: if she wasn’t allowed to go out by herself, he would have to join her. He could protect her just as well outside.

In the hopes he could keep up with her pace, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Not that she had let her eyes linger on his physique, no really, she didn’t, she was just assuming every bodyguard was in perfect shape. Nothing wrong with that. 

When she entered the living room, said bodyguard was working on his laptop. His eyes met hers and he smirked when he saw her outfit. 

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Fíli. I do not kid,” she repeated his words from the day before. “I really want to go for a run.”

He turned his upper body towards her and rested his arm on top of the chair. 

“Tell me. What part of not leaving the house don’t you understand?”

“That’s why you’re coming with me.”

Fíli raised his eyebrows at her and then pretended to consider it. “Let me think… No.”

He turned back towards his laptop. 

“Come on, Fíli, please? I really need to get some fresh air.” He had to understand she was practically going crazy here, she needed to clear her head to wrap her mind around all this. 

“No.” He didn’t even look up at her.

“I need the workout,” she tried again. 

“You can do that inside.”

“But if you would just-”

“Lucy, I said no!” he interrupted, raising his voice. 

She was so caught off guard that she took a step back at his outburst. 

“You’re awfully rude for someone who’s meant to be keeping me safe,” Lucy said, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m here to keep you alive, not to be your friend.”

He watched as she bit her trembling lip and he almost regretted lashing out at her. 

Every muscle in his body was ready to jump into action if necessary and sure enough, he saw her eyes flicker to the hallway. She was going to make a run for it.

“Luce,” he warned her, letting her know he was onto her. 

But she was fast. Faster than he had anticipated, and she was already in the hallway before he got to his feet.

Fíli cursed heavily. “Lucy, no!”

It had only been two days since he arrived and he found himself using these two words more than he liked.

When he ran into the hallway, he could see her running up the stairs towards her room, and not out the door as he thought she would. 

Fíli ran his hand through his hair, and exhaled loudly. 

“She’s going to be the death of me someday, I swear...”

Lucy slammed the door and pressed her back against it, fighting the upcoming tears. How was she ever going to live through this?

She ignored Fíli’s demand of keeping the door open, needing a moment to collect herself before she lost it in front of him.

Lucy gripped her hands together tightly to stop them from shaking and took a series of deep breaths to try and prevent more tears from falling. 

She didn’t want to admit that he scared her. It was just a question, there was no need for him to shout at her. 

Could she really be in that much danger? 

And even if she was, he could still try and be nice to her. Or at least try to understand her side of things and see it from her point of view. 

Once she was changed into a legging and oversized sweater and felt strong enough to be in the same room as him again, she threw the door open and walked to the kitchen, ignoring Fíli’s stare. 

She needed a drink.

Jars clinked together in the refrigerator door as she whipped it open, reaching for a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne.

Lucy stood on her tiptoes to reach a flute, and slammed the glass down on the counter a little harder than she intended, but it thankfully didn’t break.

With a ‘pop’ the cork was freed from the bottle, leaving whispers of fizzy smoke trailing in the air. Her hands trembled again as she poured it carefully into the glass, not wanting to give away her nerves to Fíli who was now leaning on the doorframe and watching her like a hawk. 

“I don’t know if this is an appropriate time for bubbles,” he said, his voice full of judgement. “It’s not even noon yet.”

Lucy spun to face him and placed the rim of the glass to her lips, staring him down fiercely as she emptied its contents in one go, not stopping despite the burning sensation it created down her throat.  All she could think about was how much she wanted him gone.

“Maybe I’m mourning the death of what used to be my life!” 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Fíli smirked, biting the side of his bottom lip. “People are simply trying to keep you alive and the only thing you can worry about is your running schedule.”

Lucy slammed her glass on the counter again and braced both arms against the edge to fake some courage. 

“It’s not just my running schedule! It’s everything! My studies, my future career, my boyfriend! All turned upside down and tossed to the side because of my father, who I haven’t seen or heard of for the past seven years by the way. So forgive me for being a little bitter.” 

She refilled her glass, the first one was not enough to take the edge off the terrible way she was feeling. Lucy could see Fíli shaking his head from side to side in her periphery and she nearly lost it when she heard him chuckle. 

“You’re getting a kick out of this aren’t you? You’re watching my life crumble apart before me and I bet you find it incredibly entertaining!” 

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I’m equally as offended and inconvenienced by this whole thing as you are.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, not liking where this conversation was headed. 

“You can leave at any time!” she snapped, pointing her finger at him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself!”

“Would you like to try?” he challenged her, raising his eyebrow in question. 

“Try what?”

“Looking after yourself. Should we see what happens?” 

“This entire thing is being blown out of proportion! Nothing is going to happen! Nothing ever happens!” 

He took a few steps towards Lucy until his face was only inches away from hers. If he wanted her to cooperate, he needed to be brutally honest with her. She’d probably hate him after this, but she could use the wake up call.

He took the champagne glass out of her hand and placed it back on the counter, not breaking eye contact.

“Really? So the chances of someone breaking into your house in the middle of the night is, what? One in a million?” he started. “Someone gagging you and tying you up, then tossing you in the back of a vehicle and driving you somewhere, anywhere, where no one is able to find you, not even me? Them doing  unspeakable things to your mind, your body, ... You really think that could never happen in your privileged little life? Think again, sweetheart. Your dad messed around with some nasty people and they will not hesitate to use you to get what they want.”

He watched as fear spread across her features, and he knew he’d done his job in scaring her. The furrow of her brows relaxed slightly with every description he made of what would most likely happen to her if he wasn’t there to protect her. 

“God, you’re a prick!” her voice shook slightly and she bumped his shoulder harshly when she stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.

He heard the door slam and he exhaled deeply, his patience stretched incredibly thin. She seriously had the brazenness to shut the door, again?

Lucy spent the rest of the day ignoring Fíli, which he honestly didn’t mind at all. 

She was watching some kind of reality show on the tv that night, with Fíli keeping an eye on her from his seat at the table. She was still ignoring him, sitting with her arms crossed and legs pressed together, and he could tell she wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening on the screen. 

His phone buzzed, breaking the torturous silence and he was happy for the distraction. He picked it up to read a text from Kíli saying he had sent over the background check on Chad that he requested the day before. 

Fili placed the book he was reading down on the table and opened the document on his laptop to check what had been found out about the guy.

Chad Van der Beek, 32 years old, works for his father’s insurance company, living in downtown Auckland… Fíli skimmed through everything and didn’t seem to find anything particularly interesting about him.

Fíli: Thanks for the report. 

Kíli: No problem. Nothing out of the ordinary. Seems like your regular trust-fund douche. 

Fíli couldn’t help but chuckle as he read through the gathered info on Chad and quickly agreed with his brother. 

Fíli: You're not wrong there. Where did you get all of this from anyway? I didn’t really need to know where he ate the other night.

Kíli: His Facebook account. 

Fíli: Are you serious Kíli? 

Kíli: Hey! You’d be surprised what you can find out on social media. He has no previous infractions other than the odd parking ticket, so I dug a little deeper. 

Kíli: You’re welcome. 

Kíli: I still think she’s hot, btw. I looked at her profile too. 

Fíli put his phone down beside him and continued going through everything that was discovered about her boyfriend, choosing not to glorify his brother’s comments on Lucy with a response.

Kíli had even managed to send over some older posts of Chad and his buddies partying on a yacht in Ibiza, completely surrounded by half-naked women, none of which were Lucy. This guy was the definition of a loser. She could do better.

His phone buzzed with another message from Kíli and he sighed as he picked it up again, bracing himself for another one of Kíli’s pervy comments about Lucy.

Kíli: How are things going anyway?

Okay, something normal. 

Fíli looked over at Lucy who was sitting in exactly the same position as before with a full pout on, obviously still upset.

Fíli: Fantastic. 

Kíli: I can sense your sarcasm through the phone. I’ve tried convincing Thorin to let me take over, but he keeps denying me.

Fíli shook his head, thankful for Thorin saying no for Lucy’s sake.

Kíli: You should make a move on her… save the poor girl from that idiot. You can’t deny she’s a total babe, Fee. At least make your time there worthwhile… 

Fíli: Trust me, Lucy can handle a guy like Chad. And for the last time, I’m not going to sleep with her! This is exactly why Thorin didn’t put you on this assignment, you’re always thinking with your cock. 

Fíli: Thanks for the info, dickhead. 

*

Lucy woke up in the early hours of the morning, bathed in sweat and panting as if she had been running like crazy. Which she had, but only in her dream. 

Her eyes darted around her room needing to assure herself she was in her own house, in her own bed. Not in the back of a trunk or tied to a chair in some dusty old warehouse. 

She cursed Fíli for putting those images in her head.

Her bare feet touched the cold floor when she swung her legs out of bed, and she sat like that for a while trying to calm down. A glass of water would be nice, but she didn’t want to wake up Fíli. The travel clock he gave her told her it was a little past 4 am, and he would probably be a very light sleeper.

But her head perked up when she heard a grunt coming from downstairs. And then another one. And another. 

Lucy was curious, that was definitely Fíli she was hearing and it sounded like he was either in pain or he was having a really good time. 

She couldn’t go and check right? She shouldn’t… No, she definitely should not.

And yet her feet carried her to the open landing all on their own, her curiosity getting the better of her. What she saw wasn’t entirely what she expected, but somehow she wasn’t surprised.

This should be the moment where she should have turned around and gone back to sleep, leaving him to it, but she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the show Fíli was unknowingly giving her.

Fíli was lying on his back in her living room, half naked, sweaty and panting. 

She watched him work his way through his fitness routine. Crunches, sit ups, squats, lunges, planks… he just kept going. And Lucy kept staring. 

The drops of sweat tracing the outlines of his muscles, his dog tags softly chiming every time they touched the floor during his push ups, the sounds he was making, it was all so mesmerizing to her. She swallowed thickly and finally seemed to regain her common sense. She had to stop, this was wrong!

Lucy hurried back to her room and crawled underneath her sheets, ready to fall back asleep and hopefully have more pleasant dreams this time.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

After a few minutes she heard Fíli come up and turn on the shower. It only lasted about 3 minutes, and when he was done she caught herself listening to every sound, trying to follow his movements through her house. 

It kept her mind busy and away from her nightmare amongst other images, but it also prevented her from falling asleep again.

After another hour of tossing and turning, she finally had enough and got out of bed. It was around 6, and past Lucy would be horrified to know she was willingly getting up at this hour. 

A shower would wake her up, and if that didn’t work she could always try to take a nap during the day. It was not like she could do anything else around here.

Heck, why not make it into a well-deserved spa treatment while she was at it? Face mask, exfoliate, hair mask, … God knows she deserved some pampering after all the crap she had to deal with the past two days.

She collected fresh clothes to change into afterwards, and made her way to the bathroom.

When he heard movement upstairs, Fíli got up from his seat at the table. 

It was still very early, there was no way Lucy would be up already. He slowly climbed the stairs, his eyes fixed on the doorway of her bedroom, and he reached the landing at the same time Lucy stepped out of her room.

She froze as soon as she saw him standing there, wearing a black, fitted tee.   

Images of him working out in her living room earlier flashed in front of her eyes and she felt her cheeks flush. Her eyes kept lingering on his chest and upper arms, the way they were flexing earlier and the memory of the engorged veins all over his skin made her heartbeat quicken. She clutched her clothes a little tighter against her chest.

“Good morning,” she stammered, trying to hide her flustered state. 

She made a move to go towards the bathroom, but Fíli blocked her way. 

“You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she muttered. There was no way she was telling him about her nightmare.

Fíli watched her closely. She was keeping something from him, but he decided not to push it. At least not yet. She’s probably just missing her boyfriend and he didn’t think he could handle lovesick rambling this early in the morning.

“Oh, so does this mean we’re talking again?” Fíli smirked.  

“If you promise not to be a jerk today.”

He laughed at that. “Only today? I think I can manage that. No promises though.”

And there they went again, easily falling back into their bickering.

“Could you move? I’d like to shower.”

He stepped aside and Lucy disappeared in the bathroom. 

She placed her clothes on the chair next to the vanity and when she was about to take off her top, she noticed Fíli standing in the doorway.

“Can I help you?” she asked bluntly.

“I need to make sure the window is still secure.”

“I really don’t think anyone climbed in through that window and is hiding behind the shower curtain.”

“I’m just doing my job here, Luce,” he said, pulling back the curtain after checking the lock on the bathroom window, twice. 

That was the second time he used that nickname for her and she hated it. “It’s Lucy!” 

Fíli stepped out into the hallway again once he was satisfied there were no threats and positioned himself against the wall beside the door. 

Then Lucy had the nerve to try and close the damn thing, which Fíli prevented by placing his hand on the door to hold it open.

“You’re not serious!” Lucy said in disbelief.

“Doors open, you should know that by now.”

“But I’m having a shower!” She placed her hand on her hip and waved towards him with the other one. “What are you going to do, stand there and watch me change?”

No matter how good looking he might be, this was crossing a line. 

“Of course I’m not going to watch, but you need to keep the damn door open. I’ll be right here on the landing.”

Fíli heard her huff and swear under her breath as he leaned back against the wall. She didn’t know how lucky she was that it was him who was here and not Kíli, who probably would’ve insisted they needed to shower together for “safety reasons”.

Fíli checked his watch for the third time, Lucy had been showering for over 20 minutes already. What the hell was she doing in there?

He peeked his head around the corner, but kept his eyes directed on the ground just in case she would choose to step out at that exact moment. “Are you almost done?” 

“Nope!” she called back, popping the ‘p’ and with a sassy ring in her voice. She was taking her sweet time on purpose. Perhaps he needed to give her a hint to hurry it up.

Fíli stepped in the bathroom and turned on the taps of the sink, hoping it would have the intended result of turning her water ice cold. 

Lucy screamed and flung the curtain open enough for her to poke her head out, but he had already turned the tap back off and disappeared into the hallway, doing his best not to let her hear his laughter.

“Did you just turn on the tap?” she cried at him. 

“Nope!” he yelled back, popping the ‘p’ like she’d done moments before.

“Like hell you didn’t!” 

“If you knew, why bother asking?”

Lucy kept quiet after that and Fíli let his head rest against the wall. 

Kíli was right, this was a low-level assignment.  

He was used to long stake-outs and week-long missions, even in the worst of circumstances, but this was entirely different and she was really testing his patience.  

Maybe he could convince Thorin to let him switch with Kíli every other week after all. 

Fifteen minutes later, Lucy finally finished her shower and Fíli sighed in relief. He had actually been thinking about going to the kitchen and shutting off the water completely… Maybe next time.

*

After a full week of paying attention to Fili’s habits, Lucy had come up with a plan. 

The alarm clock read 3 am. Officially the earliest she had ever woken up. Except for that flight to Bali. Oh and that trip to Italy, how could she forget that one! 

Correction; this was the earliest Lucy had woken up to don her running gear and pretend she was still sleeping in order to go for a run.

She was more than desperate to leave the condo after being cooped up with the Winter Soldier for more than a week now. She wanted to feel fresh air on her face and to allow her legs to carry out her frustrations by finally going for that mind-clearing run, but she needed to wait until Fíli was in the shower to make her escape.

He was going to be furious with her and it would probably make the next couple of days a living hell. Maybe he would actually lock her in her room this time, but she was willing to risk that for an hour of freedom.

She knew his morning routine by now and Lucy intended to use it to her advantage.

She had set the alarm on the travel clock to go off at 3, and stuffed it under her pillow so as not to alert Fíli. If he would wake up too, her plan was useless.

Thank God Fíli was very regimented, because at 4 o’clock sharp he was up and starting his daily workout. Lucy listened to him grunt as he carried out the ridiculous series of push-ups and sit-ups, and tried not to imagine what he looked like doing them. She knew of course, she witnessed it with her own eyes last week. But that didn’t mean she didn't wonder why on earth anyone could be bothered with such effort.

After an hour of rolling her eyes to herself in her bed, she heard his footsteps on the stairs and him approaching her room. 

With the covers tucked up close to her chin so Fíli wouldn’t see her running clothes, she closed her eyes, ready for her best acting. She tried to breathe as slow and even as she could and even managed to make her fingers twitch a little like she was dreaming. An Oscar-worthy performance, truly.

A minute had passed and she listened to him step away from her doorway and head to the bathroom. 

At least that was something positive about these open doors, she thought, he could hear everything she was doing, but that applied to her as well.

As soon as the shower flicked on, Lucy used the noise to her benefit and bolted out of her room, bounding down the stairs at an impressive rate, knowing by now his showers only lasted about 3 minutes. The door was ahead of her, and the last two steps met her feet in no time at all, her freedom so close she could almost taste it. 

But then the ground suddenly fell out from under her and she landed hard at the bottom of the staircase. 

A dull pain started spreading through her left ankle and she cursed under her breath. Perfect timing Lucy. She groaned and sat up to check on it, but she didn’t have much time left, any second now Fíli would be done with his shower.

She reached a shaking hand to it, prodding it to check its condition. It was tender to touch and Lucy thought she could see a swelling come up, but she was still hellbent on getting out of here. If she could reach the nearby park, there were enough benches to let her ankle rest for a bit if needed.

She moved to stand, immediately crying out from the jolt of pain that shot through her ankle as soon as she put weight on her foot and she collapsed on her knees. She clasped her hand over her mouth, knowing Fíli would have heard her with his razor-sharp hearing. She slammed her fist on the floor out of frustration. She could forget her escape-plan now…

Just as she predicted, a very naked Fíli appeared at the top of the staircase mere seconds later. He did have a towel wrapped around his waist thank God, his hair still dripping wet and drops of water running over his chest. She was certain he jumped straight out of the shower as soon as he heard her scream. The worried but calculated expression on his face turned into a grin the second he saw her lying on the floor. 

It took Lucy a moment to notice the gun he was holding in his hand, the shock of having it pointed at her taking away from that of her fall. 

“Were you seriously pointing a gun at me just now?” 

“Were you seriously trying to leave the house?” he countered.

Fíli put the safety back on his gun and trotted down the stairs, easily stepping over the tripwire he had secured on the second to last step the previous night. 

Lucy’s mouth dropped open in disbelief at his trap, reaching for it and plucking it with her finger. 

“You set this up?” she gawked. 

“Mhm,” he replied, crouching down and reaching for her ankle. 

“Were you trying to kill me?” 

Fíli took her foot in his hands to remove her running shoe and Lucy was surprised with how gentle he was. 

“The exact opposite, actually,” he muttered. 

“You’re insane.”

“And you don’t listen,” he said, his voice strained. “That tripwire has been there from the first day I got here. Every night I put it up as an extra safety measure in general, not to try and trip you if you decide to make a run for it. But you just proved its effectiveness. Don’t go anywhere, I’m going to put some clothes on first.”

Lucy grabbed the shoe he had removed from her now busted ankle and hauled it at him as he ascended the stairs two at a time, unfortunately missing him. 

Despite the pain in her ankle and feeling like she was being kept prisoner in her own home, she kept her threatening tears at bay, refusing to cry in front of that bastard. 

Within a minute Fíli was making his way back down the stairs, this time wearing a pair of grey track pants, his upper body still bare aside from his dog tags.

He scooped Lucy up into his arms like she weighed nothing and turned to carry her up to her room. 

“Put me down! I can walk just fine,” she protested, completely flustered because she was pressed up so close against his bare chest.

He chuckled, “Okay then, suit yourself,” and he released her legs from the crook of his arm but kept his other arm around her waist just in case.

She stood tall, trying to fake her strength, and placed all of her weight on her right foot before very gingerly touching the toes of her left to the ground. That slight pressure alone made her face curl up in a wince. She instinctively grabbed Fíli's shoulder for support when her ankle gave out again, and Fíli in turn tightened his grip around her waist to keep her from falling.

He refrained from making any smart-ass remarks and instead he sighed, collecting her in his arms once again, making his way back up the steps.

“At least now I know you won’t try to run away again,” he commented.

Lucy made a gruff, displeased at the entire situation including being pressed up against his hairy chest again. She couldn’t help but notice how remarkably firm he was though. Guess those early morning workouts were useful after all.

It felt like it took an eternity to reach her bedroom, and when Fíli finally placed her on her bed she was surprised by the gentleness with which he treated her. Little did she know Fíli had genuinely considered tossing her onto it instead.

He instructed her to lay back and lift her leg up for him to check her ankle once more. 

She did as she was told, and he swiftly placed one of her spare pillows under it for support. It took all of her willpower not to kick him with her other foot when he pressed against the sore and swollen part.

“You’re in luck, it’s not broken. Just severely sprained, you’ll need to stay off of it for a couple of days,” he instructed her and Lucy nodded, too stumped to say anything. “I’ll get you some ice. The bruising won’t start for another few days. In the meantime you have to keep it elevated.” He carefully placed another pillow beneath her foot before he went downstairs.

Lucy stared at her ceiling, cursing the fact that she was now completely dependent on the guy who she refused to believe she needed here in the first place. To be fair, he had been incredibly gentle when it came to tending to her foot - which she hadn’t expected at all - but the whole thing still made her feel helpless.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she furiously wiped it away, wishing more than anything to be wrapped up in Chad’s arms right now.

*

Three days had gone by since her fall and Lucy finally managed to hobble over on one foot to the large window in her bedroom without Fíli’s help. The state of her ankle was preventing her from moving around at any sort of a decent pace, so it took her far longer than she would’ve liked. She was already dreading the way back, but for now she was more than content to admire the view.

She leaned against the window frame and watched the sun setting over the city. After days of staring at nothing but her bedroom walls while being confined to her bed, it was a more than welcomed change of scenery.

She was lost in her thoughts, wondering what she was missing in her classes, what Chad was doing and if that mouse was still in her house somewhere, when Fíli’s stern voice startled her.

“Get away from the window!”

She whipped her head over her shoulder to glare at him, thinking how he could possibly forbid her from looking out her own bloody window. Yet another addition to one of his many rules. At this rate it wouldn’t be long before the only thing she was permitted to do was breathe and go to the bathroom.

“I was just getting a little tired of staring at the wall, that’s all,” she sighed, while she turned back to watch the shadows of the night slowly but surely take over the city. 

“Someone could see you! You really need to stop being so careless,” he warned her as he quickly drew the curtains.  

He watched her begin to make her way over to the bed on one leg for a few seconds before he lifted her into his arms to get her to her destination faster. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. 

“It’s fine, just... keep away from the windows, alright?”

“Alright.” 

Fíli grabbed his laptop from his bag and settled himself at her makeup table. 

This was their new arrangement ever since she hurt her ankle. Lucy was dependent on Fíli now, and was very quickly getting bored to death, so Fíli worked in her room to keep her company.

He made her breakfast and cooked dinner, and she hated to admit that he was a very decent cook, which surprised her at first. She half expected to eat nothing but toast with beans for a few weeks if he was on cooking duty. 

He really tried to make it as comfortable as possible for her, but she suspected he was glad she was immobile now. It made his job a lot easier.

Lucy watched him type away on his laptop, his phone next to him. You know what…? This wasn’t fair at all!

“Why can you have a laptop and a phone and I can’t? I have work to do too,” she said, a little put off.

Fíli sighed heavily before answering, he needed to choose his words carefully if he didn’t want to sound too much like an asshole. 

“Because mine are on a secure connection with headquarters and I’m only using them to send in my reports and keep up to date with other cases.”

“Can I use your laptop?”

Fíli gave her a sideways glance, “Absolutely not.”

She grumbled and he had to bite his cheek to stop him from laughing. Saying ‘no’ to Lucy was just as bad as denying a child something they really wanted. 

“What are you writing in your reports? How you tried to kill me with your boobytraps?”

“The same thing I write everyday,” he answered before smirking at her, “how annoying you are.”

Lucy ignored his insult. She really wanted to know more about his job. Since he knew everything about her, it was only fair he would share some information as well. 

“So... how did you get into all of this?”

Fíli continued typing and gave her the most vague answer he possibly could. 

“I was in the military before this and it just seemed like the appropriate next step.” 

“I figured as much, those aren’t just an accessory.” 

She nodded at his chest when he gave her a questioning look, causing him to glance down at his dog tags that were resting between his pecs. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, tucking them inside his t-shirt and attempting to focus on his task. 

“No offense, but why did you end up here? I mean… This doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing that would be assigned to you,” she stated, hoping to throw him off slightly and get him to talk. 

“No, it isn’t,” he admitted, “my brother messed up and our uncle didn’t want anything else to go awry. So they sent me instead.” 

His fingers stopped moving across the keyboard, and Lucy knew he had revealed more than he wanted to. 

“Oh! You have a brother?” 

She sat up a little straighter, interested to hear more. “What’s he like?” 

Fíli exhaled deeply and continued typing, setting his jaw tightly, mad at himself for letting that information slip. 

“You wouldn’t like him.” But Fíli knew that was a lie, of course she would like Kíli, everyone adored the cheeky bastard. 

“I bet he’s a lot nicer than you.”

“I’m plenty nice.” 

“Ha! That’s rich,” she snorted. “Do you at least get along with him?”

“Yeah, I do. Luce, I’m trying to work here...”

“It’s Lucy. What’s the age difference?” Lucy continued, ignoring his plea to let him work. “Are you older or younger? I bet you’re older. You’ve got that way about you that older siblings seem to have—“

“Shh!” Fíli suddenly interrupted her and held up his hand. 

“I wasn’t finished talking, but don’t mind me!”

“Shhh!” Fíli said again with more concern this time, his brows furrowed, eyes fixed on something in the hallway outside of her room. He slowly stood up and walked towards Lucy, ready to take action if he needed to. 

Lucy however was completely oblivious to what was happening.

“Would you stop shushing me! You’re so ru—.” Fíli cut her off by placing his hand over her mouth to force her to stop. 

“Luce, be quiet for a moment, okay?” 

He gave her a warning look as he removed his hand, and Lucy's eyes widened when she saw him pulling his handgun out of the back of his waistband.

Fíli carefully made his way to the hallway and peeked over the railing on the landing, only to see his suspicions confirmed. He cursed under his breath, hating to admit that Thorin was right after all.  

He made his way back to Lucy, but kept his eyes fixed on the doorway and quietly gave her instructions. “Get on the floor and hide behind the bed.”

Lucy gave him a questioning look, “Why? What is it?” 

“Someone’s here.”

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[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy - Kikuta deserved better - 273-276

As I catch up on things, I’m gonna hit the highlights that really stuck with me.  Ogata is able to escape from Vasily using the tactics he observed from the showdown in Barato with Hijikata cutting through random row houses.  He’s seriously gotten into Vasily’s head as he hesitated to snipe aggressively after killing the wrong guy with Ogata’s cloak.

The only worthwhile thing from this continued and seriously a no longer interesting plot point, is getting to see Ogata wiggle under a fence like a cat.

So, I approve of this at least.  My own cat scores this as an 8/10 in cat wiggling.  Minus 2 points for not enough emotion from Ogata’s face.

Thankfully, Asirpa was able to escape with Sofia after Tsukishima gunned down Ariko.  It seemed to me that Koito froze/hesitated during that situation.  Tsukishima had no problem brutally shooting Ariko at point blank while Koito literally just hung back and watched. 

Asirpa is in a state of extreme shock. She just interrogated by Tsurumi to give up the code, watched Ariko be shot and now sees Boutarou’s corpse in the bottle-mobile.  Our girl needs years of therapy - she’s reaching the same level as our male cast members at this rate.

At least she breaks down in tears as Sugimoto tries to console her.  The artwork for this part of the page is excellent, it really does capture the melting of her mind and how she’s realizing how deadly the gold is.

It ties directly back to her argument with Kikuta before all this shit went down.  I’m always giving Sugimoto crap for being a moron, but it seems that he did make the right action by reaching out to allow her to hug his arm.  There is that soft look as he gazes down at her and just lets her be emotional.  It is clear that his presence is a comfort to her as she takes her time before returning to a more lucid mental state.  This is shown by how she opens her eyes and looks up before declaring that they need to meet up with Hijikata since she’s figured out how to crack the code.

Meanwhile, Kikuta rushed Ariko to a clinic to save his life.  Being the father figure/older brother he is, he tells him that it isn’t his time to die; he never made that makiri yet! And to my relief, Ariko wakes up!  Noda didn’t go for the lazy writing of killing of the minor Ainu character, something I was afraid of.

If his father saved him, it means his makiri was where he was shot in the chest under his uniform.  There is a lovely transition about a makiri in a fictional museum that was made by him, implying that he returned home and did make the makiri and likely resolved some of his identity issues, though it was still likely a tough life for him.  Ariko apologies for not being able to work as a spy for Central and really it isn’t like he’d be able to do so anyways.  But he did verbally point out he’s now politically on the side of someone like Asirpa to fight for their culture and right to exist in spite of colonial powers. The middle panel of Kikuta bidding him farewell just gives me the feels.  It is so clear that Kikuta knows he’s toast.  He saw Tsukishima shoot Ariko and Tsukishima likely watched him as he tried to save the man.

The fact that he said a casual line about going to an onsen.  Ugh, death flag for sure right there.  It seems Ariko knows that as he looks forlorn.  Kikuta is that sort of suave man who is going to look cool even though he’s doomed; he’s that awesome.

The action returns to Tsurumi at the church having solved the code.  With Tsukishima gone off to try to kill Ariko, Koito has remained behind.  All of a sudden Koito reverts to his extreme Satsuma accent when addressing Tsurumi in the absence of Tsukishima.  I think he didn’t even realize it at first, just like how after they escaped the fight with Boutarou, Koito spoke normally to Tsurumi without realizing it.

It is clear it took him a moment to realize he was speaking ‘Koito’ as Tsurumi is unable to respond to him and he then panics.  Koito is more than willing to chase after Tsukishima and support him, but Tsurumi instead recalls him.

At first he consoles himself that everything is okay. 

He is trying very hard to convince himself that everything that they witnessed through the keyhole was all an act to get the key!  Yes, it isn’t that Tsurumi doesn’t have some sort of awesome goal and this isn’t about how the death of his wife and daughter left him unhinged!

But the other random members of the 27th then comment on how strongly Nikaido reeks of beer . . . and Koito then thinks about how he and Tsukishima were hiding in the room at the church when Tsurumi ‘checked’ that he was alone.  And then it hits him - they were also played as a part of the ‘Tsurumi theatre’.  Unlike Tsukishima who has whole-heartily given himself over to Tsurumi, it is clear that Koito can’t.

That monologue sounded too good to be true.  He weakly says Tsukishima’s name into the rain as he then thinks ‘No . . .’  The rain is really fitting in this scene, I think it really is a stand in for Koito’s own disappointment and tears in this entire crazy quest for the gold.  Is he worried about his ‘older’ brother figure?  Himself?  Both of them?

He continues to try to rationalize the performance that Tsurumi gave them - even if Tsurumi lied to them, it wasn’t all a lie.  Oh Koito.  I want to give you a hug and pull you away as your little bon-bon-ness has won me over.  Most of that speech wasn’t for Koito, it was for Tsukishima.  Speaking about helping Japan is what Koito would like to hear but we can tell he doubts that as well.  Hence, his waffling.

But then he realizes that as Tsukishima has given so much - all of Tsurumi’s words, even if they were ‘sweet lies’ as he he referred to them on Karafuto, it was just perfect for Tsukishima.  However, Koito has broken the spell that Tsurumi held over him.  The final page of the chapter of Koito looking at the illuminated Tsurumi and shutting the door on him.  It is the exact opposite of when Tsurumi rescued Koito from the kidnappers when in his youth. I now find myself wondering how this relates to the tiger curse.  It is clear that the curse for Tsukishima will not end well.  After he shot Ariko, his eyes regained their sparkle!  Not good, not good at all!  However, have I misinterpreted it for Koito that by becoming disillusioned with Tsurumi he will be cursed to be miserable through him gaining independence from his hero worship of Tsurumi?  The idea that ignorance is bliss, and now Koito is well in the know.  The fact that when he and Tsukishima were sort of on the same page was when he could speak to Tsurumi but now that he’s on a different path from Tsukishima he’s tripped up again.

Chapter 274 finally allows Asirpa to determine the fake skins after what she witnessed with Boutarou in the brewery and thinking about Ainu garments that she figured out that Edogai likely went above and beyond with his fakes.  Thanks money counterfeiting guy from the fake Ainu village for the inspiration.  It is a lot of pages that tie together other plot points nicely but really doesn’t do anything for me as a reader personally.

The most important point is that as Sugimoto falls asleep while Asirpa and Hijikata work with the skins is that we get another flashback - one that links him to Kikuta!

and even more importantly - Hanazawa Yuusaku!  Chapter 275 starts out with an homage to the classic movie ‘Singing in the Rain’.  As soon as I saw Sugimoto spinning on a lamp post, it was obvious.  Yes, small town boy in the big city - causing trouble.  He gets in some sort of brawl with random guys from the army and is ‘rescued’ by Kikuta, who immediately realizes that he’s hungry and decides to treat him to some lunch.

It shows that Sugimoto has a short fuse and is an impulsive youngster.  Really, he is lucky that he didn’t do more stupid shit to get him in trouble.  We can also clearly see that Kikuta is a member of the 1st Division, the Tokyo based one that Sugimoto eventually enlists with.

Kikuta decides that he wants Sugimoto to impersonate Hanazawa Yuusaku and to go on a marriage interview for him.  This is because Hanazawa Hiro, the now identified wife of Hanazawa, is pulling the strings in the background to prevent Yuusaku from becoming a flag bearer.

This then makes us wonder why these two parents have such contrasting expectations for their only son.  It makes me think back to my theory that Yuusaku was a pretty poor solider and lacked any skill or potential.  Long ago, Tsurumi told Nikaido that Ogata is the ‘true heir’ of Hanazawa inheriting his military and [some] leadership skills as he stood on the watch tower in Barato ordering the random gangsters how to fight effectively.  Yuusaku is a disappointment for Hanazawa - he can only save face by having his son become such a symbolic part of the army.

I laughed at the next page where Kikuta confirms that Hiro is colluding with the young heiress to steal Yuusaku’s virginity and thus preventing him from becoming a flag bearer.  I love the posture of the terrified Yuusaku!

However, Hiro’s plan has been found out by Hanazawa and he consulted with the leader of the 1st Division to assist him with resolving this unpatriotic and embarrassing issue.  Recall that Ogata was born as a result of Hanazawa being posted to Tokyo - this implies that he likely became good friends with the leader of the 1st Division during this time.

To prevent anyone from identifying Sugimoto, he’s the perfect substitute for Yuusaku and changes into Kikuta’s uniform.  He’s one of those guys who just has that look.  Sugimoto immediately thinks that since he’s been treated well by Kikuta, joining the military might be a good way to find security - in food.  However, we get a link of the cap to Kikuta and what appears to be his dying younger brother.

Kikuta looks so sad, like there is something unfortunate with Sugimoto’s statement of food.  We don’t get to see his expression, indicating he’s likely hiding his emotions from Sugimoto and instead tells Sugimoto he’s going to have to train him in food etiquette.

He’s presented with some Western cuisine, something that may blow his cover and something that Kikuta didn’t expect as he watches from a tree outside.  But again, due to his extreme luck, he’s able to use nervousness as an excuse and it gives him time to state his family his super traditional so they wouldn’t have eaten food like this.  When he’s removed the cap, Kaneko Kaeko is smitten with his handsome face. He can use his excuse as a way to have an out for not knowing how to eat that tasty ebi fry (why to I hear ‘ebi fry’ in Nyanko-sensei’s voice?).

As she explains the fancy places she’s dined at, Sugimoto thinks about how he was living off of cat food.  Cue another reason why he just hates on Ogata, since he was stealing food from Ogata’s people! 

The rest of the dinner goes well, and Kikuta checks in with him.  Meanwhile, our wealthy heiress is completely smitten with him!

As Sugimoto mulls over the idea of a somewhat arranged marriage as a negative he spills the beans about Toraji and Umeko.  And Kikuta isn’t having any of his bullshit.  I love how Kikuta points out how selfish and downright stupid Sugimoto is being in all of this.  Kikuta gives Sugimoto good advice - which he’s clearly still never followed.

He makes it clear that he’s got to give up on that hometown and move on.  Which will be completely ignored as Toraji will end up in the 1st Division with Sugimoto in the trenches.  I’m now wondering how Toraji and Sugimoto reconnected.  Hrrrmmmmm?  Is this something that Sugimoto encouraged and that’s why he has all of these unresolved emotions about Toraji’s death in the war?

The chapter reveals to us that Tsukishima’s love ended up marrying the cousin of Kaeko, making Tsukishima’s acceptance of her ‘death’ even more heartbreaking as he thought that Tsurumi had lied to him about her fate.  [weeps bitterly]. 

As Kikuta and Sugimoto discuss what appears to be Yuusaku’s lack of a free will, he’s told not to meddle in others concerns.  What does Sugimoto do? The man just can’t keep to himself and he goes and finds Yuusaku to confront him.  He wants to know if Yuusaku wants to be a flag bearer even though it is a death sentence.  How does that conversation go? Just how we’d expect with all of the information we know about Yuusaku.

I love how he’s like it isn’t to meet my father’s expectations!  It is because understand my father’s convictions and fight for my country.  Okay, you keep telling yourself that Yuusaku, but it still sounds like you are doing this for your father, you know tomay-to, tomah-to.  Sugimoto mulls over what Yuusaku would choose if given the choice.  I just sigh as we know enough about Yuusaku’s backstory that the man only does what his father says - with great conviction. All of our Ogata flashbacks have made this so clear, Yuusaku is a doomed man from the moment he entered the army.  Maybe even a doomed man from his birth even.  Perhaps, he’s acutely aware of this, but based on how freakkin’ awkward he’s with Ogata and his older brother actions, I continue to think he’s not the brightest bulb in the pack and can only be used as a patriotic pawn.

Yuusaku then becomes suspicious of Sugimoto’s line of inquiry and realizes that he’s got Kikuta’s cap.

Not sure how to respond, he runs away and we learn that Kikuta’s younger brother died of illness during the first Sino-Japanese war.   That same war that killed Koito’s older brother and that Tsurumi and Tsukishima fought in as well. With the statement of illness, I know what most likely killed Kikuta’s younger brother - malnutrition - specifically beri beri.  As the Japanese military rapidly modernized using European models, they ran into an issue with many soldiers and sailors dying of some sort of mysterious illness and it wasn’t something that impacted the Westerners at all.  Most of this has to do with the ability to eat white rice which was much more processed.  It made it more expensive, but was nutritionally bad for men who came from lower incomes or poverty.  Remember how stoked Asirpa was when she ate white rice all the way back at the herring fishery?  If anyone has read “House of Five Leaves” by Natsume Ono, you’d know the protagonist is a poor ronin and he falls ill due to beri beri.  The solution was to return to the countryside/hometown to eat a more diverse diet.  For a more detailed explanation of how bad this was for the Japanese military check out the video by Linfamy on youtube here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzIBpFDRr5g

The video even highlights the fierce (and counterproductive) competition between the Army and Navy which has already been well defined through Koito’s backstory. The chapter ends with Sugimoto dropping the cap and the polite man who picks it up for him is Tsurumi with Ogata, Usami and Tsukishima in Tokyo. The plot thickens . . . somehow Sugimoto got mixed up in the business of the 27th and apparently Tokyo isn’t a vast city that you can get lost in and everyone knows everyone.  Like how I was on flight to Saskatoon and the man next to me started up a conversation how he was from Burlington and went to Guelph and my friend who I was going to visit was also from Burlington and went to Guelph it is a small world kinda moment and in agriculture.  I digress though.  Things are starting to pull back together but I’m still not 100% on with this plot direction/story arc.

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House - Part 12

“I got the high score on your game, and now, I’m going to get the high score on your girl.”

Hvitserk x f!Reader, Ubbe x f!Reader Words: 6336

It’s here, the frat bro pornfest! No new warnings for this installment, we’ve got the standard rough sex, D/s dynamics, and gratuitous use of “dude” and “bro.” Also the disaster above the text is what you get when I make my own covers.

Catch up:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

“Like,” you furrow your brow, trying to catch up, “with a stopwatch?”

“Yeah,” Ubbe answers. “You squeeze me when you’re starting to come, and I’ll hit the button. Then I turn it off when you can breathe again.”

You lick your lips. “And whoever can give me the longest orgasm is the winner?”

“Oh yeah.” Hvitserk squeezes your thighs, making you jump just a little as his fingers press into the bottom of your bruising ass.

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, but you don’t sound like you mean it.

His fingertips slide deeper under the edge of your shorts, playing with the flesh left tender by Ubbe’s spanking. “Hey, if you don’t want to play my nice game, I can try one of your mean ones . . .”

“I didn’t say that,” you rush to correct, although it certainly turns you on even more when Hvitserk digs his fingers right into your sore cheeks, until you writhe and hiss above him. “Who starts?”

Hvitserk switches back to nice touches, palming your ass in hearty handfuls. His brow cocks, and he turns to Ubbe. “Home field advantage, bro. You go first.”

Ubbe reaches around your shoulders and, with a playful growl, pulls you bodily off his brother. He tucks your back in against his front, so you’re still facing Hvitserk, now seated on the center cushion of the couch between them. Ubbe’s hands come up around your body, curling possessively over your breasts as he mouths at your neck just below your ear. Home field advantage, indeed. He already knows exactly what you like, and you feel like you’re already halfway there just from all the lust pervading the room.

Ubbe pops the clasp of your bra, freeing your tits for Hvitserk’s eyes. And his own hands. After he tosses your bra he’s scooping them up from underneath, presenting them toward his brother, squeezing and teasing your nipples rather than covering them up until Hvitserk looks like he might start drooling from the show.

“I thought we decided I’d get top half first,” he finally says, leaning in toward you.

“Just warming her up,” Ubbe purrs against your neck, then releases your breasts and pushes you softly forward. “Here you go.”

Hvitserk catches you in a kiss as you lean into him, deceptively sweet before he palms both your breasts. Ubbe’s fingers tickle at the backs of your thighs, and then he’s stripping you, pushing shorts and panties together down your hips. So much for showing off that matching set. You get up on your hands and knees to help it happen.

Naked between both of them now. You have to stop kissing Hvitserk to let Ubbe get you into the position he wants from you. Hvitserk keeps helping himself to your tits as you end up with your back propped up against him, the rest of your body laying along the couch so Ubbe can get his face in between your legs.

You’ve said it before; Ubbe loves eating pussy. You’ve never had it so good from anyone. Unless Hvitserk has acquired some sort of unfathomable, god-like secrets of the female body, you don’t know how he’s going to possibly outdo his older brother. Ubbe already knows exactly what you like. He kisses along your body before nestling between your thighs, then opens you up boldly with his tongue. He closes in on your favorite spot with the steady confidence of a master, his hot tongue starting broad but never failing to hit you squarely at just the right angle with every pass.

This may be a competition, but Hvitserk is not being stingy with his assistance. His hands continue to play with your nipples, almost idly, like he absolutely can’t help himself. And the raspy way he’s breathing in your ear while he toys with your body – he’s making Ubbe’s job too easy. Caught between the two of them like this, your breath starts hitching almost before you’ve really had a chance to settle in and enjoy this crazy scenario.

“You’re close,” Hvitserk says.

“Uh huh,” you reply. It comes out throaty little sexpot voice.

Ubbe growls with pride, the vibration of it against your clit ratcheting you up yet another notch closer to release.

Hvitserk’s hands leave your breasts. One digs in his pocket, producing his phone so, just as they had said, he can open a stopwatch app. That alone should be killing the mood, but then Ubbe presses his fingers inside you and you realize there really is no going back for you. Nothing is too juvenile, or ridiculous, when the Lothbrok boys are the ones asking you for it.

Long, cool fingers wrap around your own. Hvitserk is holding your hand. “Squeeze me when you start coming,” he rasps in your ear. You can hear the excitement behind his instructional tone. This is so fucked-up, and they both love it.

Ubbe goes in for his grand finale. He finds that perfect angle, from both inside and out now, and works you relentlessly.

“Ooooh…” your moaning starts, and just as that wave of pleasure crests you clench your fingers around Hvitserk’s hand.

You hold your breath. The orgasm rocks you hard, your naked body writhing against Hvitserk’s chest, your cheek rubbing into his t-shirt and you hope you’re not going to drool on him. You had been a little worried that knowing your orgasm would be timed might be too much pressure, might make it slip away as soon as it’s crested like you’ve experienced in less-than-ideal situations before, but Ubbe is too good for that, this situation is apparently too hot for that, and you’re sure that clock is running even longer than you ever expected as the pleasure spirals in wave after wave through your core underneath Ubbe’s relentless tongue.

You suck in one gasping breath and then hold it again, somewhere in the middle there. You keep it in even after the ecstasy begins to fade, and maintain your death grip on Hvitserk’s hand. Hvitty’s a cool guy, but Ubbe’s your guy, right? One of them, at least. It’s easy to follow the urge to cheat the clock a little on his behalf. Exaggerate the results by a few more heartbeats. He deserves it. And it feels good to pick him over someone else for once.

Finally you slump, going limp in Hvitserk’s arms except for a few twitches as Ubbe finishes up with one last swipe of his tongue. He embraces your thighs, nestling in against one leg and gasping a little himself.

“Twenty-two seconds,” Hvitserk reads, “very nice, bro.”

Ubbe nips at your thigh, with affection. “She’s amazing.”

Four hands move across your body, enhancing your afterglow. Ubbe makes his way down your legs as Hvitserk sets his phone to the side and runs his palms up your flanks.

Coming as hard as that might make a girl sleepy, but under the movement of those hands you feel electrified, like every one of your nerve endings has been turned on now, and the possibilities for pleasure are only just beginning.

Ubbe comes up to his knees between your legs, leaning forward and scooping you up with a hand in your hair to meet his insistent kiss. You sit up between them, enjoying the slight soreness of your spanked ass rubbing bare against the couch cushion, and savor Hvitserk’s hands as they caress down your back to your hips. “Time to switch,” you ask between Ubbe’s kisses, “or will there be an interlude?”

Ubbe makes an interested sound as your hands run down to his crotch. As you expected, he’s rock hard and swelling into your touch.

“When we’re alone,” you croon, “you’re usually making me return a favor like that almost immediately.”

Ubbe responds by pushing your head firmly downwards.

One of the best parts about being a sub is that you’re not responsible for managing anything about a scene. Nothing but your own hard limits, of course. But something simple like this, deciding whether this is okay, or if Hvitserk will find this too rude or feel left out . . . that’s not your job to consider. Ubbe’s forcing your face down to his crotch and that’s the only thing that has to be in your world right now.

He sighs as you open up his jeans, releasing the pressure that had to be quite restrictive for him all this time. Neither of the boys have taken off a stitch of clothing, you realize, and here you are fully naked on your hands and knees between them.

Ubbe reaches in and pulls his erection out through the fly of his boxer briefs. Does It count as him getting a little more naked, if he’s immediately pulling your mouth over to swallow it up?

You always kind of think about channeling your inner snake when sucking Ubbe off, as you just about unhinge your jaw to fit that slab of meat he’s packing into your mouth. It’s worth it for the sounds he makes, though. This time he’s holding himself back, probably trying to look tough with his brother present, but his guttural grunts and muttered curses when you swirl your tongue just right are close enough to the full show. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck, too, not exactly controlling your movements but certainly keeping you on-task down there.

As your head came down to meet Ubbe’s cock, your hindquarters rose. Hvitserk is certainly getting an eyeful of your ass and whatever he can glimpse of your pussy between your bare thighs, with your knees only slightly spread for balance up on the couch cushion. It takes him longer than you expect to reach out and start exploring what’s on offer with his fingertips.

He starts low on your thighs, tracing up toward your naughty bits lightly. You arch your back a little more, encouraging him. His fingernails graze over the widest part of your ass.

The longer it takes him to come close to your pussy, the more you’re silently begging him to. You’re working your mouth up and down over Ubbe’s cock, relishing your lover’s taste and scent, sure, but you’re also quite distracted by thoughts of what Hvitserk’s looking at and what he’s going to do next.

When his thumb finally slides down to the edge of your pussy lips you moan, loudly, the sound made even more pornographic by the way Ubbe’s choking cock distorts it. Perhaps Hvitserk understands it as encouragement, because his thumb keeps sliding, up and down, in a confident delineation of the edges of your sex. You moan some more. It’s actually quite fun to hear the ways the sounds come out in garbled and staccato bursts as Ubbe’s hand urges your mouth faster and deeper.

“Fuck, keep making those sounds,” Ubbe says.

Hvitserk does his part, continuing to tease your cunt, not doing anything very specific or intense, just exploring and tantalizing and waking everything up all over again. He finds your clit and bats at it just a little, then spirals away again to swirl his fingertip at your very entrance.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Hvitserk groans through his teeth. “I want to fuck it so bad.”

You arch your back even more, almost trying to force yourself over his fingers as you continue on fastidiously with the job in front of you.

Ubbe speaks for you. “Go ahead, dude. I think there’s still condoms in the drawer.”

Hvitserk’s pressure increases, just a little bit. “Not yet.” He traps your clit between his fingers and pinches. “Still gotta win that contest. I need to keep my head in the game. I get off now, I lose my edge.”

You can’t fucking take it. You slide up off Ubbe’s cock with a popping sound so you can plead with Hvitserk. “Just a little, then? Just fuck it a little.” He’s making you too fucking crazy to keep quiet. “I want you, Hvitserk.”

“Honey, you think I can get in this cute little pussy of yours and stop myself before I blow? No one’s that strong.”

“Speaking of blowing . . .” Ubbe’s coaxing your mouth back over his dick before you can answer, using your scalp to hold you steady as he starts to fuck up into your face. Your aroused little moans turn helpless around the rough thrusting of his cock, while Hvitserk gifts you with a fraction of what you want by pressing one blessed finger inside.

“Swallow it all,” Ubbe tells you, his voice gone breathy and thin. “Don’t spill a drop.”

You fuck yourself back over Hvitserk’s long finger as Ubbe’s pace increases, spurring himself on to blast his seed into the back of your throat. Swallowing is certainly the easiest way to make sure you don’t choke.

He shudders inside your mouth, holding you close while he pants and decides he’s really done. You savor the last moments of Ubbe’s cock in your mouth. Hvitserk slowed down when your body stopped rocking, but never really stopped: in, out. In, out. That finger keeps sliding, to remind you. Ubbe’s done, but you’re not. Not. Even. Close.

When Ubbe finally releases your face, you suck him clean as you pull back and then lift your head. You hold the rest of your body still, unwilling to interrupt Hvitserk’s steady rhythm inside you. Ubbe wraps his hand under your chin, guiding you to look up at him.

His eyes are sleepy around the edges, but still sparkling. You watch them track quickly over your face. “You’re up, Hvitserk,” he says, amused. “She looks ready.”

Unfortunately, this makes Hvitserk stop fingering you. You turn towards him with a whine.

He meets your eyes and smirks. “Definitely ready. Lay down.”

You spread yourself along the couch as Hvitserk slides down off it, guiding your legs to open where he can easily reach you from his knees on the floor. Your head doesn’t fit in Ubbe’s lap from this position; you’re lying flat on your back across the middle of the couch, with your face next to his hip. He reaches down and cups your cheek, dragging his thumb idly over your skin.

It feels a little more vulnerable, to be laid out like this. Which enhances the thrill of knowing that a man you barely know is between your spread legs, staring at your most intimate places. Hvitserk lets his hot breath steam over your wet and needy entrance, building the anticipation. Hands caress the insides of your thighs, then his thumb starts sliding in to open you up.

You can feel how wet you’ve become from the ease with which he parts your inner lips. You moan and arch as Hvitserk drags that moisture up to lubricate your clit, letting him draw easy circles around the sensitive button.

When he leans in to replace his thumb with his mouth, it’s gentle, almost a kiss. Then he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Ubbe mutters. He leans forward and scoops up both your breasts with his hands. “I’m going to get hard again already.”

A nervous giggle slips out as you ponder how you might get caught in an endless cycle of cocks after this. If watching you with one is only going to keep turning the other one on again. Perhaps you’re fortunate that Ubbe and Ivar never try to have you at the same time like this. A girl can only take so much.

Hvitserk, it turns out, is not an idle boaster. His competence at eating pussy is instantly apparent. His tongue glides hungrily to all the right places, and when you look down, the dark satisfaction in his hooded eyes makes you feel like you’re caught in a filthy monster’s jaws.

You can’t even track what exactly he’s doing down there. All you know is that the pleasure is surging, from every square millimeter that his lips and tongue touch. He slips two fingers inside you, and rocks them in such a way that you swear he’s found something inside there that no one else has ever noticed before. Your whole body is singing.

An obnoxious noise brings you just a little bit back down to earth. One of Ubbe’s hands leaves your chest, the other left gently cupping one tit.

“It’s Ivar,” Ubbe says, scooping Hvitserk’s vibrating phone off the table.

Hvitserk sucks you hard before lifting his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from you. You realize you’ve been making all kinds of crazy noises for the past few minutes. “Let him listen,” the arrogant boy responds.

Ivar’s voice is faint, but you can hear it, issuing forth from the phone hovering above you in Ubbe’s hand. His tone is impatient, as usual: “Hvitserk, you there?”

His brother has dropped his mouth back between your legs, sucking at you in time to the curl of his fingertips deep inside. There’s no way to keep yourself from moaning, and making ragged little sounds whenever you try to breathe.

“Interesting.” Ivar drags out the first syllable. You don’t hear anything from him for a while, and then, he says your name. “Can you hear me?”

You turn your next moan upward, into a whiny little “uh huh!”

Hvitserk is not letting you get any more lucid than that.

“Are you showing Hvitserk your best hospitality?” Ivar asks, his Dom voice apparent even from this distance. Ubbe’s thumb moves and his voice gets louder. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Ivar continues, chastising you on speaker. “It sounds like you’re being quite selfish.”

Is Hvitserk getting you in trouble right now? The movement of his tongue only intensifies, threatening to turn your steady moans into squeals. Your legs are starting to shake as heat floods your core.

“What are they doing to you over there?” Ivar continues. “I don’t hear Ubbe, but I’m sure he’s lurking about.”

If he’s expecting you to answer, he’s going to be disappointed. No way you’re capable of speech.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself,” Ivar says, continuing on as a monologue. “And I hope that you’re looking forward to being punished later, for being such a bad girl. Making our guest work so hard for your own selfish, wicked pleasure.” Every word goes straight to your cunt, helping Hvitserk build you toward an orgasm that promises to be a screamer. “You’re the one that should have your mouth full right now, greedy girl. I see that you can’t be trusted to be left alone. We will begin… some much stricter training when I get home.” Fuck. “I’m sure Hvitserk won’t mind helping me teach you better manners. Are you close, greedy girl? I hear your voice changing. Enjoy it, because it might be the last one that you get for a long, long time.”

Between Ivar’s words and Hvitserk’s skills, you don’t stand a fucking chance. You clutch behind you to find Ubbe’s hand, barely remembering the rules of the contest in time as this pleasure starts to climax.

“Wait,” Ubbe huffs, “gotta get the stopwatch.”

Ivar’s chuckle drips out of the phone while Ubbe fumbles with it. He may have had some choice words for what these two gorgeous, sexy idiots are up to, but you only hear him get as far as “Are you two—” before a rushing in your ears takes over and you lose consciousness of anything else but the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

Hvitserk is relentless. He doesn’t slow the intensity a bit, pushes you through your screaming, writhing orgasm with the dedication of a pit bull as he just hits that magic spot over and over and over. You’re shaking and gasping before it’s done, and when the peak turns to oversensitivity he’s still determined to wring a few more seconds out of you, doesn’t stop until your thighs try to clench shut around his head in a helpless attempt to push him away.

You’re left panting as Ubbe announces the time above your head. “Thirty-four seconds.”

“And you started late,” Hvitserk points out. He’s panting too.

“And I started late,” Ubbe admits.

So much for your attempt at cheating on Ubbe’s behalf. Hvitserk sure as hell won fair and square. If Ivar’s little participation doesn’t count.

Wait. Is Ivar still on the phone?

“I take it Hvitserk is the winner.”

Yep. He’s there.

Hvitserk wipes his mouth as he rises from the ground, lifting one of your legs to roll you out of his way so he can resume his seat on the end of the couch. He nestles himself against your naked hip and reaches out his upturned hand to Ubbe, silently asking for his phone back.

You expect him to speak, but all you hear is the descending tone indicating an ended call. Hvitserk tosses his phone back on the table with a dismissive sound. You think you might even see a trace of a snarl on his lip as you look up at him through your post-orgasmic haze.

Then all his attention is back on you. You watch his greedy eyes run all over your body, from your upturned hip to the curve of your tilted waist, your bare breasts and your parted, panting mouth. “What were you saying earlier?” he asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “Something about want me to ‘fuck it just a little?’”

You nod breathlessly as he climbs further over your body. His hooded eyes look predatory now, and if somehow Ivar made him mad then he definitely seems ready to take it out on you. He gives your hip a little smack, watching how the impact makes you jiggle, then inspects your face while he gives you another one.

“You like it rough, huh?”

You nod, and twist your body to present your ass to him even better. Honestly you feel like your pussy is about to start dripping on the couch, so it also doesn’t hurt to get it further away from the cushions.

He nods too, thoughtfully. “There’s this position I like. Not every girl can handle it.”

Ubbe makes an interested noise above you. “She can handle a lot.”

“So I keep hearing.” Hvitserk taps at your ass. “Up.”

He stands at the same time as you do, and you don’t miss the way he readjusts himself inside his pants. He pulls you in close for a kiss, pressing your naked body fully against his clothes.

He whips his shirt off. Finally. “There are condoms around here?”

“Yes,” you say, dropping to your knees to open one of the little drawers at the base of the coffee table. You and Ubbe had scattered them all over the house before he made his monogamy pledge and the tests had come back clean. You turn back to Hvitserk, presenting him the little package in your palms.

He makes a happy little noise in the back of his throat. “I like the way you look down there.” He loosens his belt. “Now I’m thinking you need to stay on your knees and show me what that sweet mouth can do.”

You nod, eagerly, as you watch him get his dick out and step closer to your face. You meet it with your tongue, wrapping a hand around his shaft to keep him pointed down where you can reach.

There’s something extra fun about a blowjob that you don’t intend to finish. You lick around the head of his cock like it’s a lollypop, pausing to give him playful eye contact and then watching him watch you swallow it up.

Ubbe’s the one that groans. When you flick your eyes over to him he’s got one hand thrust into his own pants like he’s gearing up for round two. “You look so good. Teasing it like that.”

You can’t help yourself. You keep your eyes locked onto Ubbe while pulling Hvitserk a little closer, giving his shaft little kitten licks.

“You are fucking hot as hell, darlin’,” Hvitserk says, looking straight down the line of his body at you. “But I’ve had enough teasing tonight. Come up over here.”

He leads you to the side of the couch and bends you over the armrest.

“Saw this in a porno once.” He kicks at your legs until you spread them a little further apart. “Stop me if it’s not working for you. But I think you’re flexible enough.”

He pushes down between your shoulders until your chest hits the couch. You relax the side of your face into the cushion and just go with it. Now your hips are higher than the rest of your body, and quite decently supported by the plush armrest. Not hard so far. There must be something more coming.

You hear the sound of the condom wrapper opening. Ubbe shifts above your head, but you resist the temptation to check and see what he’s doing on his end of the couch. Ivar’s right; you’ve been selfish. You must give your full submission to Hvitserk now, and show him that you are doing exactly as he instructs. No more, no less, and no looking at his brother.

You know you’re wet but he spits on his fingers and works a little added lubrication into you anyway.

“I liked the way you were begging,” he comments, voice husky as you feel him moving in closer. “Think I can make you beg a little more?”

“Oh, Hvitserk, please.” You angle your hips up even higher, offering yourself to him. You’re positively aching to be filled up, after all this.

“Please what?” You feel the brush of something thicker than fingers against your slick entrance.

You take a breath. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

“That is definitely the plan.” He pushes into you slow, the second Lothbrok you’ve let go balls-deep into you now. He’s not as thick as Ubbe but that hardly matters, not when you’re swollen with need and reveling in the fact that this one wants you too, bad enough to throw shame out the window and fuck you right in front of his brother. “Fuuuuck.” He presses in deep and just stays there a minute, hands gripping your ass tight.

You buck your hips up against him, although you don’t have much leverage with your belly in the couch and your legs spread so wide.

He grunts and answers your enthusiasm with his own, starting to bounce against you in measured thrusts. “Ungh, I knew you had a sweet little pussy. Are you happy to share it with me?”

“Yes,” you wail, as he pounds you harder, the friction electrifying every nerve ending they hadn’t already fried out with that pussy-eating competition.

“You gonna share it with me all week?”

“Uh huh!”

“And you can you really handle that? Three guys telling you what to do around here? Keeping this pussy full?”

“M-mhmm.”

“What was that?”

“Yes! I’ll find a way.”

“Good.” His thrusts have settled into a quick, steady rhythm. “Arch your back more.”

You really have to press your chest into the couch, and come up to your tiptoes when it feels like you can barely reach the floor as it is, but you manage it. It makes his thrusts feel deeper, threatening to bottom out against your cervix.

“Now give me your arms.”

This must be it. The thing that other girls won’t do. You give up supporting your body with your forearms, twisting them both behind your back instead. It puts a lot of your weight on your face and upper chest, the only things left to support the bouncing impacts of his thrusting, but it’s manageable. Fingers wrap around your wrists, straightening your arms back behind you. He’s using them like handles now, to pull your arched body over his cock. It’s rough, but you can take it. You’re just flexible enough.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Hvitserk croons.

“You’re telling me,” Ubbe says. His voice is coming from the side now. You open your eyes to see that he’s left the couch for the coffee table, sitting right across from your face where he can get the best view of your contorted figure. “Think you can lift your feet off the ground, wrap them behind him?”

You try. Lifting your legs like that clenches your pelvic floor, which makes Hvitserk yelp and then fuck you harder. Now you’ve got absolutely no control at all, laying on your face and getting fucked down into the cushions. You might be drooling. There’s nothing to be done for it if you are.

You wouldn’t be able to stay like this for long, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to have to. Hvitserk’s making this drawn-out humming sort of noise, he’s so into it, pistoning into you at an accelerating rate that suggests he’s barreling toward climax.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Ubbe says. You want him to shut up so he doesn’t make Hvitserk uncomfortable, but these two do seem to have some kind of established groove for this already. And hearing him tell you how sexy this outrageously acrobatic pose is does make it easier for you to hang on in it for a little longer. It’s not an angle that’s going to get you off, but ferocious pleasure rings through your body anyway.

“Ahh—” Hvitserk’s rising wail almost sounds desperate, and then he forces air between his teeth as he grinds himself even deeper into you.

You don’t complain as he crushes you just a little more. It’s obvious that he’s reveling in a prolonged, ecstatic climax, and you’re certainly not going to begrudge him anything less than the thirty-four seconds of bliss he so recently finished giving you.

But when he gasps the end of his release, and his body stops clenching, you’re tugging your arms out of his grip, grateful to untwist your shoulders and get the pressure off your neck.

“Fuck—thanks. Fuck,” he pants. “That was incredible.” He stays inside you. You feel his forehead drop to the middle of your back as you both start letting your muscles relax one by one. You like the way his hair feels on your skin.

An insistent, gorilla-like grunt emanates from somewhere above your head. “My turn,” Ubbe says, and his hands wrap around your forearms.

“Dude,” Hvitserk exhales. “Give me a fucking minute!” His hips writhe against you. “She feels so fucking good . . .”

You feel Ubbe take a seat on the couch next to your head, but he does not release your arms. His grip flexes impatiently, but at least he’s not pulling you bodily out from underneath his brother.

“She probably needs a rest too, dude,” Hvitserk continues, his breath warming your skin. “A little recovery time from all that.” As if realizing he was barely following his own advice, he withdraws himself carefully from your body and lets you move your legs more comfortably back together.

“Nah, she’s better than that,” Ubbe rumbles, voice thick and rich and proud. “She takes dick like a champ.” His fingers tickle under your chin until you look up at him. “You want two in a row, don’t you babe.” The gleam in his eye tells you he’s fully recovered from his last orgasm, and absolutely ready to go.

Hvitserk is being very nice. But is nice really what you want? You probably wouldn’t be in this position if that was the case. “Yeah,” you say, answering Ubbe’s growling with your own throaty sex kitten moan.

Ubbe’s blue eyes blaze and he tugs you towards him. Your legs wobble a little as you climb around the arm of the couch. Hvitserk’s promise kept. Ubbe sees your weakness and scoops you up, like any good predator would.

He whirls you around, getting you underneath his body as your back presses into the armrest of his side of the couch. He can only kiss you once, as sloppy as he is passionate, before he’s struggling with his pants.

That glorious erection is rock-hard as you help him free it from his clothing. He wastes no time pushing himself into you, as if he took Hvitserk’s dirty talk about “keeping this pussy full” quite seriously.

You might be just a little bit sore. That hardly matters when Ubbe gets his rhythm going, the aching only adding to the decadent pleasure of back-to-back fuckings.

He’s got one foot on the floor, giving him ridiculous leverage to split you open against the corner of the couch. You throw your arms around his neck and brace yourself, looking over his shoulder at Hvitserk’s sleepy-cat smile as the boy catches his breath while watching you get impaled.

“Touch yourself,” says Ubbe, shifting to pull your hand down between your bodies, flexing his fucking abs to curl his body and give you room as he continues to pound.

“Ivar said—”

“Don’t you want one more, before he makes that threat official?”

Fuck. Good point. See, Ubbe can be nice too. You let your fingers fly.

“I want to feel you cum all over my dick,” he grunts out, his pace increasing as he seems to turn himself on even more with just the thought. “And I want to hear it, too.”

It doesn’t take long. Your poor pussy shivers under Ubbe’s onslaught, the clenching of your muscles as you hold yourself up against it magnifying the oncoming orgasm into something that makes you want to scream like some kind of wild shieldmaiden between your teeth.

And Ubbe wanted to hear you. So you do. That sizzling pleasure radiates out of your core until your lower half locks up, clamping around him so hard that even his punishing pace has to slow.

When you suck in your next breath and the sound of your own voice fades, you hear Ubbe gasping. He’s coming too, locked down in your throbbing pussy. You stay like that, clenched tight and pressing up against him, for a few more breaths while your climax fades only slowly. You actually felt your inner walls milking him. Drawing that seed deep up inside you.

You release a throaty sigh and finally let your body unwind.

Ubbe presses his forehead against yours. “Fuck, princess,” he breathes. “How do you keep getting more amazing?”

You end up sprawled along the couch between them, your head in Hvitserk’s lap while Ubbe massages every kink out of the big muscles of your legs. You don’t feel self-conscious to still be naked. You feel like nothing less than a classical goddess. Something the masters would line up to paint, and even more; the utterly feminine deity that men have immortalized in clay and enshrined on cave walls since the dawn of the human capacity to think. Nothing more natural in the world than your naked, beloved body.

Which doesn’t mean that you’re not grateful when Ubbe spreads a warm blanket over you, when his massaging hands have mostly finished. Sure, you were going to spend the afternoon cleaning this room, but your eyes are drifting closed in the post-sex haze now. They’ll turn the game back on, won’t they, and let you take a little nap across their laps first.

But you don’t hear the TV turn back on. Not yet. Instead, a conversation begins above your dozing head.

“You do this with Ivar, dude?”

Ubbe shifts underneath your leg before he responds. “Not like this.”

Hvitserk makes a soft sound. “Didn’t think so.” There’s a pause, long enough to tempt you back into sleep, but you really want to hear if they’re going to say anything more about this. Hvitserk has known them his whole life. He probably has some insight that would be valuable for you to know. You shift a little in his lap though, making sure he knows you’re still awake. Wouldn’t be right to actually eavesdrop.

His hand comes to your head, stroking gently across your hair. “Can't believe Ivar's really sharing with you, dude.”

“Maybe I'm sharing with him.”

Hvitserk just laughs.

You open your eyes to see Ubbe shrugging. “It’s working out so far. I let him lead.”

“I didn’t think you could do that.”

Ubbe leans forward over your feet, grabbing his forgotten bottle off the coffee table. “He’s grown a lot, since we were all at home.” He takes a thoughtful swig. “I probably have, too.” He makes eye contact with you for a second, possibly acknowledging the awkwardness of talking about these things over your head, but doesn’t say anything that might draw you into the conversation.

Not that you have anything to say. You’re just soaking up every little piece of information you can get.

Your face is pointed away from Hvitserk; although you’re in his lap, you can’t really see anything of him but his knee.

“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve ever found that works with him. Ivar has to be the one in control, or it doesn’t go well.”

“You say that like I haven’t been living with him for years, too, dude.”

“I’m saying it because it’s hard to believe you can really pull that off. You’ve always had to kind of be the top dog yourself, dude.”

Ubbe’s fingers stroke you underneath the blanket. “Some things are worth a little compromise.”

Hvitserk bounces your head just a little. “What do you think? Is Ubbe ever really not the boss?” You rouse yourself, twisting your body until your face is pointed up at Hvitserk’s. “Pretty much ran the show today, didn’t he?”

You consider your answer, glancing between their waiting faces. At least they’re both smiling. This is not an answer you need to feel worried about crafting too carefully. “I think it was pretty natural for him to guide things today,” you say, looking up into Hvitserk’s eyes, “since you and I had never—” you trail off self-consciously as you stare up into that gorgeous face.

Hvitserk squeezes you up in his arms, and his smile turns mischievous. “But now we are very familiar with each other. Aren’t we.”

You nod, suddenly breathless again.

“You want to keep playing with me, while I’m in town?”

You smile and nod harder.

“Good,” Ubbe says, his hand running up your leg. “Cuz by my count, we’re not exactly done here. You got me off twice. Hvitserk only nutted once. That’s not right,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s our guest. You should spend tonight in bed with him, at the very least.”

And why do you get the feeling Ubbe’s going to find an excuse to be involved in that, too?

“No offense,” Hvitserk says, “but that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about, dude. Telling us what to do. You let anything not be Ivar’s idea, man, and you’re done.” Hvitserk’s gaze swivels back down to meet yours. “If he can’t hold some of that shit back,” he tells you, a smirk twisting up his cheek, “you’re never going to be able to have the both of them at the same time.”

Taglist is open:  @hanhanxx @xxdearlybeloved���@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg​ @rekdreams247​ @inforapound​​ @creepshowzombae @tomarisela​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @walkxthexmoon​​@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog​​ @earl-aive​​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​​ @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​​ @ceridwenofwales​​ @grungyblonde​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @hvittysmutanon​​ @honestsycrets​​ @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor​​ @writingfromasgard​​ @tootie-fruity​​ @lordsexmachine​​ @uncomfortable-writers​​ @sadbutatleastsassy​​ @sweatstreatz01 @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @likealostkiss​​ @thehangedmanandthehoneybee @xxlilqueeniexx @thefightingdragon​​ @xbergiex​​ @artemiseamoon​​ @ivarinleatherpants​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @michael-guerin​​ @chibisgotovalhalla​​  @heavenly1927​​ @writingsnmusings​​

[starlocked01]

Toddlers Scare the Living Shit Out of Me

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 4- Parents

WC: 3k

Summary: Virgil is very surprised when he's brought home by a fascinating stranger at the bar. A kid wasn't exactly what he agreed to in a one-night stand. Nor did he expect a relationship.

Content Warnings: Alcohol Use, Talk of divorce, Swearing, Mild gory language

@dukexietyweek

(also thank you @suchaswearemads for their OC Teddy 🧡)

Virgil was mildly aware that he might regret this if he lived until morning. His roommate would probably have a statistic at the ready about criminals luring victims away from clubs with whispered promises of sex or drugs, and how often they target gay men. Virgil snorted a laugh to himself. Poor Lo would kill him himself if he knew what Virgil was up to. This guy even looked the part of an unhinged surprise organ donation scheduler, all covered in spikes and tattoos of anatomical cross-sections all over his visible skin. If Virgil were any drunker, he'd probably mistake him for a skeleton or half dissected cadaver.

He really didn't care. He was drunk and Remus said pretty words that made him feel wanted. He'd follow the cadaver man halfway around the world like this. Exactly proving Logan right that he shouldn't go out drinking alone. He giggled and stumbled and giggled because he stumbled and the ground was spinning under his feet.

"What’s so funny, Dr. Gloom 'n' Giggles?" Remus caught Virgil and pulled him back upright, even as his brain fought to stay closer to the ground and made the whole damn world lurch in protest.

"Hey! 'M fine. Yourrr gonna kill me, bad man mad man. Fuuuuuuuck I had way too- didya spike 'e?" Virgil struggled to form a single, coherent sentence, feeling the alcohol's effects acutely and in increasing measure with each step towards doom and destruction.

Remus laughed, "ya caught me. Why don't I call you a taxi home?"

"Nooo! I sssaaid I'd come home withya- ssooo I am," Virgil shook his head and tried to stand and remain upright. His attempt lasted all of a second before Remus had to catch him again.

"Look, I don’t need you trying to puke all over my dick or something. I'm calling you a fucking cab," Remus tried to reason but Virgil heard none of it as he yanked himself away to hurl in the bushes.

"'M fine. Commmmming down," Virgil panted, trying desperately to steady himself. After several deep breaths and false starts, he managed to stay upright and reach for a steadying hand. Whatever had knocked him on his ass so quickly was also fading just as fast, "shiitt, did you spike my drink?"

"Nah, man. Come on, we're almost there."

---

Remus stared at this drunk little catch from the bar and was glad he was the one who'd picked him up. Someone must have tried something funny with his drink. Bad enough news for everyone else still at the club but at least this one was safe.

Remus shook his head and checked his phone to call a cab only to find the phone dead already. Shit. No way to warn Roman now. Remus waited for Virgil to finish puking his guts out on the neighbor's lawn, pretty dead set on getting this guy help as soon as they got home and he convinced Ro he needed a favor.

Slowly, he helped Virgil towards his front door, surprised at how fast the intoxication seemed to be turning around as Virgil got steadier on his own feet. Remus winced when he couldn’t find his keys and cursed when Virgil reached out and rang the doorbell.

"Stop! It's way too late for that!" Remus hissed as the door quickly opened to a very pissed-off looking Roman.

"Are you crazy! Pat's asleep- oh… oh who the fuck is this?" Roman asked, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him, "Remus, you promised tonight!"

"Ro, calm down. This is Virgil. Yes, I promised, but do you think you could take-"

"No!" Roman exclaimed furiously, "I have work tomorrow! I can't take Pat. Send Virgil home and be a grown-up for once!" Roman grumbled and turned abruptly back inside.

"Roman! Someone tried to spike him-" Remus hissed, pulling Virgil inside with him "-and before it hit, he was the best guy I've met in my life."

"Oh you mean just like Mr. Wonderful?" Roman snarked back in a low voice as he gathered his belongings. Remus winced at the reminder.

"Don't be a dick, brother dearest. That's my job. Please, I promise this time will be the last-"

"I can't! Teddy is already worried that I'm out this late. We love Patton but we're not raising him for you. You're not a kid anymore, Rem. Learn to date like an adult because we're not babysitting while you go out clubbing like this again," Roman huffed and stormed toward the door, "sorry to meet you like this, Virgil. I hope you feel better soon."

Virgil barely lifted his hand to wave as Roman left and shut the door with a dreadful finality. Remus slumped and sat at the foot of the couch Virgil had sprawled on.

"Sorry about him. How ya doing, Virgie?" Remus asked quietly.

Virgil groaned, "head hurts. Still tipsy. What the fuck did you do to my drink?"

"I didn't do anything but save you from whoever did," Remus shook his head and stood, "I'll get you some water. Or gatorade. Or milk. Fuck what do I even-"

Remus was suddenly cut off by clattering dishes and a small whimpering coming from the kitchen. In a few swift steps, he entered the kitchen and flicked on the lights to find a plate toppled from the counter to the floor, the fridge cracked open, and a toddler trying very hard to hide behind the trash can.

"Pattycake! What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?" Remus slapped on a grin and swooped the child into his arms with a grunt, "oh big boy. Getting too old to pick up like this."

Patton squeaked in his father's arms as he was lifted up, "got loud, Papa. Unkie Ro promised me a second cookie before bed."

"He did now?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised in mock shock.

"Mhmm. Said Unkie Teddy'd bring it. Where's Unkie Teddy?"

"Oh no! Ro was gonna call the cookie monster himself to get ya?" Remus gasped as he shifted his hold on the child and nudged the plate under the sink to take care of in the morning, "Uncle Ro promised you a cookie monster and didn't show up? That fiend!" Remus giggled with Patton as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge, shutting the door with his hip.

"Unkie Monsta!" Patton giggled, clinging to Remus’s neck.

"Mhmm. It's really late buddy. You should get back to bed," Remus cooed as he dropped one of the water bottles on Virgil’s chest.

"What the hell-?" Virgil tried to sit up, utterly confused who Remus was talking to now.

"Hey! You don't get to cuss in front of my kid until date five!" Remus snapped, holding Patton close. Virgil blinked at the baby blue eyes, curly blonde hair and the overwhelming amount of freckles as the child stared back at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Papa, who's that? He looks spiky," Patton whimpered, quickly hiding his face from Virgil.

"Baby, I'm spiky. I like spiky people," Remus carefully soothed, running a hand through soft curls, "he's one of Papa's new friends."

Virgil watched, unamused, "you didn't say that you have a kid. What, were you planning on bringing me back here with a toddler who could walk in and see anything?"

"Look, I was trying to ask my brother to babysit him overnight. You're hella cute but I didn't expect to make this introduction so quickly," Remus huffed, "Pattybear, be nice and say hi and then you best be headed back to bed, mister."

Patton peeked one eye out to appraise the stranger in his spot on the couch. After a long moment, he waved and barely audibly whispered a small, "hi."

Virgil smiled at the typical child response to his neon purple hair and uncountable piercings, but Remus laughed loudly, startling both the drunk man and the child, "oh Come on! That was weak shit, Pat-Pat. Say it like you mean it!"

"That's not necess-"

"HI!" the tiny voice bellowed over his protests. Father and son laughed together as Virgil sputtered.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, my little monster! Alright, enough fun. Back to bed, you rascal. Papa has to take care of the baby who drank too much apple juice," Remus beamed and set Patton down on the ground, waving as the child sped off back to his room.

"Cute kid. You didn’t mention a kid earlier," Virgil groaned and laid back down on the couch, head swimming.

"Yeah well, kids are chick magnets," Remus replied, not meeting Virgil’s eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'm into dudes…"

"And? It's not like a kid is gonna send good guys running," Virgil shrugged, very much regretting his choice of drinks that night.

"Yeah, you haven't run yet. But that was a very tired out and pacified little scamp you just met. You'll see in the morning- unless you wanted me to call you a cab now?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't wanna move," Virgil murmured, "but I would like kissesss."

"Direct. I like it," Remus smirked and slid down to kneel next to the couch, "but that would be taking advantage of your weakened defenses. Sleep it off and ask me in the morning."

Virgil whined and pouted at the denial, "please? I came all this way."

"Well, if you insist," Remus grinned and leaned in close. Virgil smirked and pulled Remus forward that last inch. Virgil tried hard to enjoy the kiss but the fact of the not yet sleeping child in another room tempered his desires greatly. After a minute, Remus pulled back and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch.

"To be continued, Dr. Love."

"Fine. Good night," Virgil sighed and watched Remus stand and leave the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

---

Virgil awoke the next morning to a warm palm pressed against his cheek. He slowly blinked his eyes open to find bright blue eyes framed with thin black wire-rimmed glasses. Squinting out the light to protect himself from the impending headache, Virgil finally recognized the child from the night before.

"Hey, Patton-"

"Angels sing and demons cry, but we can't tell the difference," Patton stated sweetly, head tilted to one side.

"Hey Kiddo, breakfast time!" Remus called from the kitchen, "is Virgil up yet?"

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine as the child giggled, patted his face, and called back, "yes Papa! We're coming!"

Virgil groaned and sat up slowly, sore from sleeping on the couch with his piercings still in. How he'd managed to fall asleep in skinny jeans absolutely baffled him, almost as much as the peculiar little kid staring at him expectantly.

"What d'ya want, kid?"

"A kitty!"

"I don't have a kitty."

Patton’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears and his lip quivered before the child ran screaming back to the kitchen.

Virgil was sorely tempted to roll back over and hope he woke up somewhere quieter, but the smell of bacon and the temptation of seeing Remus in the daylight pushed him to his feet.

The guy he'd met in the bar had practically disappeared once Patton showed up. Remus had been flirty and suggestive and very interested in Virgil all night but nothing in his behavior would have ever led Virgil to suspect he had a kid and was capable of acting so.. fatherly. The man’s duality was almost unsettling.

Virgil walked over and stood in the door of the kitchen, silently watching Remus encouraging the weeping little boy to sit down and eat toast. He still wasn't sure why Patton had thought he would have a cat with him, but the disappointment had surely gotten to the little fella.

Remus looked up and gave Virgil a tired grin, "heya, sleeping beauty. How's your head?"

"Threatening to disown me. I didn’t touch him. He asked if I had a cat," Virgil nodded to Patton, hoping that Remus didn't think he'd purposefully hurt the kid.

"Oh don't worry. He asks everyone. His dad promised him one and well, do you see a litter box?" Remus rolled his eyes, standing and guiding Patton to the table, "you'd think after so many empty promises, the kid would know better, right?"

"Wait… you're his dad, right?" Virgil frowned.

"Nope!" Patton giggled, twirling his spoon between his fingers, "Dada lives in the big house!"

"Patton, eat your breakfast!" Remus barked, not unkindly before turning back to Virgil with a sigh, "no offense, but Patton’s dad is not exactly first date story material. Neither is Patton but well, that can't be helped now."

Virgil bit his lip, "right. None of my business… Except I shouldn't be here if you're married."

"I'm not married, sweetheart," Remus held up his hand to show off the lack of a ring.

"And this mystery father isn't… ya know," Virgil drew a finger across his throat in a wordless question.

"I fucking wish! Look, it's none of your damn business, Virgil. You want breakfast or the door?" Remus snapped, turning back to the food on the stove.

Virgil sighed and sat down next to Patton at the table, idly arranging shaped blocks in a haphazard pattern, "I'm sorry. I just don’t want to get in the middle of something complicated without knowing that's what's up. Yo, got another triangle for me, Pat?"

Patton grinned and grabbed a triangle from the table before shoving it somewhat painfully into Virgil’s palm. Remus watched the interaction and sighed overly dramatically.

"Hey, baby, why don't you go get dressed and pick out a movie?" Remus ruffled Patton’s hair, "no horror movies today though."

"Awwwww but I love the scary ones," Patton moped but obediently left the table.

Remus waited until Patton was out of sight before replying, "look, I don't have any secrets. I got nothing to hide. The only complicated thing right now is custody. My ex and I are separated and don't talk. Hell, I try to get him to pick Pattom up from Roman and Teddy's every chance I get. I love the little tyke but his dad pisses me off."

Virgil bit his lip, "that does not sound ideal."

Remus shook his head, "it's not. Like one day you're planning a wedding and processing an adoption, then before you know it you're divorced and fighting with the man you love for custody of the child he said made him sick to look at." Remus gritted his teeth, "Pat deserves so much better…"

Virgil nodded along with Remus’s story, "so why go out clubbing during your time with Patton? He doesn't need two absent fathers."

Remus chuckled, "don't freak out, but the first one of us who remarries has a huge advantage in getting full custody. Because neither of us is biologically related to Pat-Pat, it's become way too much of a battle.

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, studying the grain of the wood in the table.

"It's alright," Remus shrugged, "you're alright, Virge. Can I get that number now?"

Virgil laughed and took the offered phone, "yeah, call me when you've got some free time and Patton is with his dad."

Remus grinned and pocketed the phone, "oh you'll see how this works, sweetheart."

---

Patton was nearly a constant whenever Virgil met with Remus, but at least Roman had been mollified by Remus having a steady date so he and Teddy resumed babysitting during more adult dates. The Remus he'd met at the bar never quite resurfaced in the same way, sometimes the actual image of the tatted-up punk caring for a sweet little angelic-looking demon spawn of a kid took Virgil by surprise, and sometimes he was shocked with the things this man would say to his kid. Teddy constantly questioned Virgil why he had stayed even after learning more about the whole situation.

Virgil wasn't certain why. Patton had definitely tried to scare him off a few times. The kid was terrifying when he wanted to be.

But this little family was so very compelling, and Virgil was more and more certain with each date that he wanted a place in it.

"So, sugar…"

"Yeah, Rem?"

"I have a modest proposal for you-"

"Nope. Not gonna eat babies."

"Wha-?"

"Oh, shoot I thought for sure you were talking about the satirical essay. What's up, babe?" Virgil winced and turned to face Remus.

"How would you… like to start the process to become one of Patton’s legal guardians?"

"You're asking your boyfriend to adopt your kid who already has two dads?"

"Well yeah, because-"

"Because then the paperwork is ready to sign right after the wedding," Virgil interrupted with a grin, "you sneaky son of a biscuit!"

Remus laughed, "please, baby?"

"Not my call, sweetheart," Virgil smirked, "hey, Pattycake!"

Little feet pounded down the hallway, Patton skidding to a halt in the kitchen, "yeah? Prince Sparkles is in danger so this better be important!"

"You can save the Prince soon enough, kid. How would you feel-" Virgil suddenly felt very nervous as the gravity of the question finally hit him, "-how would you like… another dad?"

"Umm.. do I have to meet him?" Patton looked disappointed and confused.

"No, Pat-attack, Virgil is asking if he can be your dad too," Remus explained gently.

"You aren't already? I demand you be my dad this instant!" Patton bellowed at Virgil, pouting with the most betrayed expression he could muster.

Virgil laughed, "don't worry kid, this is just gonna be the paperwork that makes it official. You know I got you."

"Yay! New Dad! New Dad!" Patton beamed and ran around the table to dive into Virgil’s arms. Virgil caught him with a grunt and leaned into Remus.

"I think that's a yes from me," Virgil murmured

"Most excellent. Now I've got both my boys!" Remus grinned and wrapped both in a bear hug to seal the deal.

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 1

The Case of the The Pernicious Party  

Hello, hello, hello! It’s been a hot second but your resident D20 recapper is back to tackle the newest season: Mice and Murder! Y’all had to know I wasn’t gonna sit out the murder mystery, are you kidding me???

I might be playing around with the format a bit in the coming weeks to make sure I have the best possible system for keeping track of possible clues, suspects, and theories as we untangle whatever web Brennan weaves for us this season so don’t be surprised if things change a little. 

Anyway, without further ado, onto our mystery!

Summary

In case you missed it, this season takes place in an alternate, Zootopia/Wind in the Willows-esque universe where all the characters are animals but history seems to have happened in more or less the same way--for example there was still a King Charles but he was a King Charles Spaniel (cute Brennan). Our story specifically takes place in the English village of Tufting Meadows.  

We start with Katie’s character--Gangie Green (Weasel/Thief Rogue) in the graveyard of the Anglican Chapel (Our Lady of Prayerful Paws). Gangie, we learn, is an orphan who was kicked out of the orphanage at some point for thievery. Obviously, he’s not reformed of the habit because he is here to do some graverobbing. On a nat 20 (that Katie hilariously doesn’t notice even though her total is like a 29) Gangie can see through the window of the rectory that there is a weeping window inside--Catherine McCabbage who is being (dubiously) tended to by Raph’s character, Vicar Ian Prescott (Owl/Bard, College of Eloquence). 

Ian comes from a line of men of the cloth but he’s not exactly the best speaker despite his subclass. He’s doing his best though! The widow’s husband (Conor McCabbage) died at the local mill in what has been declared an accident but she suspects foul play. She’s been hearing his voice on the wind and wants Ian’s professional opinion on whether this could be a sign from God or if her husband might be speaking to her from beyond the grave or something like that. Ian gives a very muddled and not very comforting answer but seems pretty sure that something sketchy did in fact happen. Then, he sees a crack of lightning outside which illuminates the graveyard where he gets a glimpse of Gangie. 

He goes to check it out (and Gangie fully has an elderly goat he’s dug up slung over his shoulder) but “gravedigger” is his legit job so Ian decides to assume whatever’s going on is legit and not ask too many questions. He goes back to the widow (who, before she leaves, says that maybe sometimes people need to work on God’s behalf) while Gangie takes the body Loam Hall (a massive manor, built into a hill).

We cut to the next day and our next two characters! 

At 22B Hamsted Street in a pretty well appointed home are Ally and Grant’s characters. First up, we have Lars Vandenchomp (Huge ass Doberman/Battlemaster Fighter) who is so tough looking but also so Swedish sounding--it’s A Lot (so, incredibly on brand for Ally). Lars is security for Grant’s character Sylvester Cross (Fox/Inquisitive Rogue) who is a kinda (to use Grant’s word) “foppish” Sherlock Holmes type. He was hired by Squire William Thornwall Brockhollow to figure out what happened with Conor McCabbage (and clear him of negligence in running the mill) but he couldn’t find any evidence of any funny business, making this the only case he’s never cracked. He’s not as young or popular as he once was so this is, understandably, bumming him out. He’s even more bummed out when he realizes that William has invited him to his 60th birthday party that’s happening that night (as kind of a prop to show that he did his part in trying to solve the mystery) and Lars has already RSVP’d yes. He grudgingly agrees to go as it’s one of those asks that’s really more of a veiled demand but decides to pull the money he was paid from the bank first so he can return it and really stick it to the guy.

Finally, we cut to our last set of PCs who are on their way to Tufting Meadows via a very luxurious train. Inside are Sam and Rekha’s characters! Sam is Buckster $ Boyd (Peccary which is like a small boar/Mastermind Rouge) a Texan Oil Tycoon who acts exactly how you’d expect a Texan Oil Pig to act. Yes, you pronounce the dollar sign as “dollar sign” (even though as we find out later his middle name is Cassius so it’s like Cash which I think is super cool). With him is Rekha’s character, Daisy D'umpstaire (Raccoon/Assassin (???) Rogue another American (from South Carolina) though it seems she’s My Fair Lady’d herself into an upper class socialite (her last name was previously Dumpster). They’re traveling with their accountant, an Armadillo named Armond who seems kinda skittish and concerned about their travel expenses but Buck tells him that to make money you gotta spend money and they’re gonna make a *ton* of money on this trip. They’re also so so mean to him for absolutely no reason. 

When the train stops, they’re greeted by Templeton Padhop (a frog, natch) who is the chauffeur of Loan Hall, sent to fetch them. A wheel on his car is broken so he joins in on the Armond abuse immediately and has Armond roll into an Armadillo ball and replace it. Poor guy. When they show up they're greeted by a footman--a pug in a bowler hat named Milo Snout.

Meanwhile, Lars and Sly (Oh, Sly fox, I see what you did there Grant) are similarly greeted by another footman--a lizard named Basil Baskins. On a 23 perception check, Lars sees that Jeremy “Jez” Brockhollow is inside (the son of William who is a badger btw) and also clocks Gangie (who they know as a career criminal who disappeared like a year ago). Gangie doesn’t notice Lars though. 

Ian, who is also invited, shows up at about the same time as Sly but very quickly, the conversation is taken over by Lucretia “Lucy” Brockhollow, William’s older, eccentric sister who immediately gets into it with Lars about astrology and the occult (she thinks bad stuff is happening because of a curse let loose when Sly’s old rival--a rabbit named Fletcher Cottonbottom who is the son of his former employer--opened an Egyptian tomb). They’re thick as thieves right away because Ally is a nonsense magnet. And not like a regular magnet, one of those big electromagnets. 

Daisy and Buck spot William’s kids--the aforementioned Jez and his older sister Constance--along with their husbands Dr. Corbin Magpie (Constance’s and obv a magpie and a doctor) and Osmond Sheffield (Jez’s who is a Ram and a lawyer). Daisy is too stuck in her conversation with a truly unhinged squirrel (Lady Eugenia Bristlebrush who clearly does not know she’s in a murder mystery because she just keeps talking about how much she hates and wants to kill everyone) to hear what’s going on but she indicates the conversation to Buck who is able to eavesdrop and hear that they’re lamenting that Catherine--the widow--RSVP’d no which is gonna look really bad, like they didn’t invite her (bad PR). 

Buck, introducing himself as a business partner of William, eases into a conversation with the husbands which their respective spouses also join into and we learn that Buck's dad was British and a friend of Willian’s. Buck bonds with Jez (who is a bit of a dilettante) really quickly since Buck is ready to go drinks-wise immediately (and there’s a stellar pun about the “American [Drinking] Constitution''). Through the window, Buck notices Gangie outside getting his attention. 

At the same time, Ian is going from party guest to party guest, giving out the penances he forgot to earlier at church (as one does). We see him talking to the Lord and Lady Bramble (a cow and hedgehog, respectively) and while she wants to pray her way out of situations without doing any legwork, he wants to buy his way out and gives Ian 250 pounds. A frustrating but financially lucrative conversation.  

Buck goes outside to talk to Gangie who has a list of names of the bodies he’s been collecting. We’re not told what Buck is doing but it seems that this list is extremely valuable to him in some way. Gangie (who Buck keeps calling Gangly, to his annoyance) pays him handsomely (like, with a 50% tip) for the list (and Gangie gives him the real list, despite Brennan saying he didn’t have to). We also learn that Gangie has allegedly been getting the orders from someone in Loa Hall and they flow from William himself.

Matilda Molesly (a mole and the head maid) invites Gangie to come in from the rain--she’s the only person who’s been consistently nice to him and he agrees to come in for tea and scones. 

Everyone is ushered together by the butler (because of course there’s a butler--he’s quite literally a fancy rat named Thomas Gilfoyle) and William gives a speech where he wishes Conor well and kinda highlights that he did hire Sly to solve the case in a “Hey, I did my bit don’t blame me” kind of way. He also makes a 150k pound donation to the church (and Ian thought 250 was good) and tells his daughter not to read the praise he got for it from the cardinal when she mentions it (I wonder if that was choreographed). Sly interrupts the speech to “magnanimously” give his money back, to William’s annoyance. Buck notices that Lawrence Longfoot (a nouveau rich, rabbit photographer) takes a pic of the scene but with Sly in the foreground and William in the background. 

Then, a few things happen at once (in a very cinematic way):

As the camera flashes, Mrs. Molesly drops her tray, eyes hurt by the light. Lady Calliope Fawnbrooke (Deer, Matron of the Arts) helps her up.

In the moment of dark, after the flash goes away, the butler disappears. 

Buck thinks he sees a shape through the window, out in the rain. 

A cheer goes up for Sly for returning the money but all Sly can focus on is one figure he recognizes in the back of the room. Daisy, who is downing her drink and not cheering for him. He downs his as well, and looks at her until she breaks the stare and leaves the room. 

And this episode doesn’t end with a dead body like I thought, but with a flashback to a younger Sylvester, 12 years ago when he first met Daisy.

PC INTERPERSONAL DRAMA Y’ALL!!! Get HYPED! 

Case Notes

Here is a compilation of all the characters (PCs and NPCs introduced in this episode). 

Sly mentions that Ignatius Cottonbottom faked his own death as a part of some scheme which seems like a backstory point that might come back later--we now know that there exists a way to convincingly fake your own death in this world. 

Sly walks with a walking stick because of some “mysterious accident” but we’re jumping into a flashback next week so it looks like we might find out about it pretty soon. 

Sly also mentions he used to be the personal physician to the elder Cottonbottom so those are skills he has. I wonder if that’ll be useful to this healer-less party. I wonder if cleric was even an option in this world which seems to be low to no magic. It would explain by Ian is a bad and not a cleric. 

Lars has a military background which I wanted to mention in case it becomes relevant later. 

And Dr. Magpie grew up poor and still acts it a bit even though he married a very rich woman. Brennan uses the very good line, “He forces his body into the shape of an apology”

This might be a really deep cut reference but did anyone else here was the old Britcom “Keeping Up Appearances”? Cause I was getting serious Bouquet/Bucket energy from Daisy. 

This is an all College Humor season and it shows. The energy of 6 (7 if you count Brennan) top notch comedians sparking off of each other, trying to one up each other is off the charts. Some of the best bits this episode:

“When God closes every door but one, you go through the door that is open.” followed by “I’m an owl by the way.”

“Time is money, here’s both” from Buck re his inscribed gold pocket watch--everyone at the table loved that so much and they’re right. 

Armond going from being a third to a fourth wheel. 

And the names--I already shouted out a ton on the main recap but also a rat butler (like Rhett Butler) and naming the mouse Cat(therine). Can’t forget Gangie Green/gangrene from Katie. Also points to Ally for the data stealing Eel Musk which broke Brennan a little. 

I know we just went through this with Crown of Candy but what are these animals eating? Like, in Zootopia there were only mammals so we can assume the carnivores are eating like birds and fish but there are sentient birds here. I know this isn’t important. I’m not trying to do a CinemaSins gotcha. I just wonder, you know?

Y’all were waiting for all the lights to go out during that speech and then come back on and there’d be a body too, right?

If Brennan makes the bad guy a chicken or a duck or something so he can make a “fowl play” joke, he is cordially invited to catch these hands. 

I have been waiting for Raph and Katie to do D20 forever. Their specific brand of nonsense on Rank Room was always amazing. 

I love love love that Grant and Rekha are the PCs that have ~a past~ because they are so funny together. If you haven’t seen their episode of Game Changers, you absolutely must (it’s also a murder mystery actually!). 

[theteapotofdoom]

What is kekkai sensan about? It looks interesting! I might add it to my watchlist :)

I’M GLAD YOU ASKED :D

Okay so, Kekkai Sensen (also known as Blood Blockade Battlefront) (what a title) is a manga and an anime with two seasons to this day! I’m making the distinction because I’ve only watched the anime, and from what I heard the manga has a very different plot. So I’ll be talking about the anime in this post.

The premise is honestly masterful because of how simple yet intriguing it is. Three years ago, a mysterious breach opened in New York city between earth and another world/dimension. The incident destroyed most of the city and unleashed the other-worldly craziness. But since then, New York has been rebuilt and the strange phenomenon and creatures unleashed into the world are now part of everyday life! New York City is now a true melting pot of humans and supernatural insanities living together, but all the supernatural is “trapped” in a bubble that stops it from escaping New York and spreading all around the world.

The cohabitation between the two worlds is mostly peaceful, but as you can imagine, a lot of dangerous wild shit can still happen. It can be as simple as petty human gangsters trying to sell some dangerous supernatural thing that they found, or it can be as serious as overly powerful demons trying to destroy the bubble to spread their power all over the world.

To prevent things like this from happening, the mysterious Libra Agency was created. It’s a benevolent organisation full of super-agents whose job is to protect the civilians of New York from supernatural dangers and to stop the supernatural from spreading too much outside the city. This agency regroups some of the most powerful and competent people in the city, but they also happen to be VERY unhinged and chaotic, in the best way!

MY BELOVEDS! :D

I won’t talk about all the characters here because otherwise, this post would be way too long, and also because I think that part of the fun is to discover them and learn more about them throughout the story! I will still say this: our main character is Leo, the small guy with a white and blue shirt and a little monkey on his shoulder. For reasons that you’ll discover, he has recently been blessed/cursed with a superpower called “the all-seeing eye of God” that allows him to see almost, well everything! He can see microscopic things, through walls, through supernatural trickery. He kind of accidentally runs into Libra, and realises that they might be able to help him to understand his new power and that if he works with them, he might be able to help a lot of people! And that’s how the story starts!

A large part of the show follows a “monster of the week” format. It means a lot of the episodes are self-contained stories where a threat/problem is introduced at the beginning of the episode and dealt with by the end. I think that it’s part of why the series is so fun! The world that they live in so wild and crazy, anything can happen, and these types of episodes really make the world feel big and full of interesting things! In many ways, the city is the true main character of this show. It’s also fun to see our beloved cast react to very different situation, and it’s especially fun to see Leo react to the madness around him while the other agents are mostly used to it. But there is also a main storyline and a main plot! Even during the early self-contained episodes, they drop little clues that something big is happening in the background, and they introduce some mysterious recurring characters who hide a lot of secrets. Without giving away too much, once the plot picks up it REALLY picks up. The final few episodes of season 1 are amazing and really emotional! So even if you feel like the early episodes are a little random and disjointed, fear not, it’s all leading up to something big!

Season 2 has a similar structure, a lot of chaotic one-shot stories all leading up to a big finally! Personally, I think that season 2 doesn’t hit as hard as season 2, but I love the character so much, I still really enjoyed it!

So here you go! I don’t want to say too much because otherwise, I might accidentally spoil some things. Just to finish, a little list of why I love this sow so much:

The New York of this story, also known as “Hellsalem's Lot” is honestly the most believable and best-depicted city I’ve ever seen in an anime. Like, I said, the city feels like the main character. It’s full of details, and the show gives a lot of focus to the many different people who live in it. I read a post once that said that the city in Kekkai Sensen feels real because (unlike other shows) if you take the main characters AWAY from the city almost nothing chances. Because the city has a life of its own outside of the main plot and has its own continuity without the main cast! Also, although I don’t live in New York, I live in another busy capital and I just really like how many little details they included in the story, things as simple as the main characters often being stuck in traffic and so on.

Everyone in Libra is just ... very very very hot. I’m sorry I know that it’s not a very deep argument, but I’m but a mere bisexual who really appreciate a main cast full of diverse attractive adult characters with different designs and funky personalities.

While we’re on that topic, I will say that Leo (and two other characters that I can’t talk about because of SPOILERS) get a very good development through the story. We see Leao and the other two getting more and more confident as the plot progresses and more comfortable in their lives. The rest of the Libra Agents don’t really get much character development per se, but it’s more of a thing where you learn more and more about them as the story goes along. They don’t change much, but you progressively see different sides of their lives and personalities!

The art style is really beautiful. That’s it.

Kekkai Sensen season 1 actually has my favourite Anime Opening of ALL TIME. I’m not being hyperbolic here, this is genuinely my favourite OP ever. It’s nothing incredibly special or unique, but it does a great job at setting the tone for the series, the song slaps, and the art is beautiful. I wrote a whole ass essay to convince you to watch Kekkai Sensen, but honestly, you could just watch the OP and I think you’d be intrigued. So here you go! The ED is equally good and is also my favorite anime Ed of all time. The OP of season 2 is also AMAZING it’s just hard to follow up the first one.

I actually can’t talk about the main villain without giving away some HUGE spoilers but they’re great and I love them a lot! We also have two secondary villains who are equally good and very chaotic and I love them dearly.

look at them go

[ateezmakemeweep]

four in the morning.

yunho x reader; strangers to lovers

word count: 11k

angst, fluff, smut

10:05 p.m.

you never wanted a public proposal. you had told your boyfriend every time you saw someone get down on one knee in times square on new year's eve or in front of cinderella's castle at disney world that you would absolutely die if he did that to you.

and maybe it speaks to your naivety, to your complete disregard of just how shitty he's treated you over these past five years, that you thought that would ever be a problem in your relationship. because he's the guy who ditches you for his friends and religiously forgets date night, who falls asleep right after extremely unsatisfying sex that has you faking orgasms, who doesn't answer your texts all day but freely like posts on instagram.

and evidently, he's also the guy who breaks up with his girlfriend in the middle of dinner.

because one second the waitress is putting down the dessert, a tiramisu cheesecake you were drooling just thinking about all night, and then the next, before she's even out of ears reach, he blurts out, "we should break up."

you don't even say anything at first, just stare blankly and shake your head because he didn't just that. he wouldn't say that. not today on this day and not right now in this setting.

"wh-what?"

but he doesn't miss a beat.

"i've been thinking about it for a while, y/n," he says to you, leaning on his hand like this whole conversation is about to be a bore. "i just...we've been together for so long and i'm really kind of...sick of it."

"you're... you're sick of it?" you squeak.

"well yeah, i mean it's been four years and i don't wanna lie and say i feel like i'm still in love with y-"

"five."

"what?" he asks, looking at you in pure and utter confusion and you don't know if you feel more heartbroken or angry at this very moment.

"five. we've been together for five years," you tell him, voice too calm and composed for how you're feeling inside. "in fact, today marks our fifth year together. but you didn't remember that, did you?"

you think you would've felt better if he showed some sort of regretful or guilty reaction, his mouth dropping open or face lighting up like the date sent off alarm bells in that stupid little head of his. but nothing. just a thoughtful nod, like you told him the food was good or you needed another drink.

"oh," he says with a small shrug, "well five years then, even longer than i thought. see, y/n, i'm just over it. i'm over this relationship and i'm over being someone's boyfriend."

"hm....hm," is all you hum because you refuse to make a warner and elle woods type of scene in this restaurant right now. but your burning throat and shaking hands want so badly to do something. to scream and curse at him or throw that cake right in his face or maybe even slap him for being so cold and harsh and detached.

"are you mad?"

a laugh bubbles out of your mouth now and anyone around can probably hear how unhinged it sounds, like you're a second away from having some sort of breakdown or bursting into tears and screaming.

"am i mad?" you ask, a cold edge finally seeping into your tone. "am i mad my boyfriend just broke up with me, in public, at our anniversary dinner? are you seriously fucking asking me that?" you grunt out the words through clenched teeth, lowering your voice when you let the profanity slip out.

"well...yeah," he says dopily, "i still care about you as a person. i just- don't wanna be in a relationship anymore. i kind of figured i was making it obvious these past few weeks."

"then why wouldn't you have just told me the second you had these thoughts!" you spit and now the volume of your voice is considerably louder. "why make me wait and then do it at this very moment!"

"i-i don't know, i didn't really know how or when was a good time to tell you."

"oh, well thank god you waited, this was truly ideal," you growl sarcastically.

and then, like he has any right to be offended or upset, he lets out a scoff. "look, i'm sorry but this is what i want....i'll still pay for dinner if that's what you're-"

"you think i give a single fuck if you pay for dinner!"

you finally break whatever composure you were channeling, voice breaking and raising and causing the several groups of people to look in your direction. some of them are subtle with their side-eyes and whispers while others are full on staring, mouths agape with looks of pity and you wouldn't be surprised if you find a video of this on the internet later.

"what is your problem," he says, "i said i'm sorry but you really can't be that-"

"leave," you tell him, quietly now, with your head down and eyes on the table. "i'll take care of it. just please...get away from me."

there's a few beats of silence before he mumbles something along the lines of "whatever," deeply sighing like this is actually causing him any distress, like he's the one who has to stay here with lingering gazes and pitiful stares. you think he might take a breath to say something else but then ultimately decides against it, the squeaking of a chair and heavy foot steps walking away indicating you're finally alone.

and it's during that time your tears start falling, your head hung and hand cupping your forehead so the people around you don't get more of a show.

maybe a part of you knew deep down that the relationship was gonna be over, that it really should've been for your sake and you were just too scared to accept it. but it was just the manner in which he did it, so coldly and out of nowhere, like the past five years didn't mean anything to him. and you can't deny the sickening parallel to years of you telling him you didn't want him to fucking propose to you in public and then going and dumping you at one of your favorite resturants.

"i'm so stupid, oh my, god, i'm so fucking stupid," you mumble out, voice wobbly and wet before you feel the presence of the waitress at your side. you peak up at her as she bends down holding out a packet of tissues, a sympathetic look on her face that has you realizing she probably watched the whole thing go down.

"you're not stupid, baby, don't say that," she says, placing her hand on your arm comfortingly.

you thank her quietly for the tissues, taking one out and dapping at your wet face. "i'm sorry, this is so embarrassing," you squeak out, "i'm gonna pay the bill don't worry, i just...i needed him to leave."

"no, i'm so sorry that just happened. i can't believe he thought that was okay."

you sniffle as you scrunch up the tissue. "i-i know," you say, "i mean i knew he was an asshole but he really just...our anniversary dinner! and during dessert! i was so excited for this cake."

she laughs softly at your sad whine, placing down the tissue packet and moving the plate closer to you. "well, you can still be excited. don't you dare let him ruin this tiramisu." you're pleastantly surprised when a small chuckle leaves your mouth, wiping at your face with your wrist.

"you're right, he can't taint it," you say before catching the side glances of people surrounding you, "but i think i have to get out of here before i cause any more of a disturbance."

she nods her head sympathetically, urging you to take a few bites and that she'll bring the check right over.

you keep your head down as embarrassed tears threaten to fall again, the feeling like a milllion eyes are on you making you feel even more awkward and unsettled; you're sure it's just paranoia but you swear you can feel eyes boring into the side of your face, someone probably laughing and mocking and feeling so incredibly sorry for your pitiful situation.

sorry enough that when the waitress comes back, she tells you someone has already paid for your bill. your eyes widen upon hearing the news, looking around curiously and stuttering out incoherent bits of sentences.

"who?" is the only clear thing you're able to ask.

"i don't know, he just left," she tells you, "brown-haired guy. very tall. cute, too." you feel her hand on the back of your chair when you stand up. "and i'm sorry again, honey. i didn't charge you for the cake but i hope to see you in here again enjoying it," she adds on quietly.

you give her a grateful smile and nod, assuring her you'll definitely be back before rushing out to catch up with the mysterious man who just dropped well over $100 on two complete strangers. and luckily, you don't have to look very far. because there he is, all dark hair and broad shoulders, leant against the side of the building with a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

he sees your teary-gaze meet his and his lips quirk up ever so slightly before he flicks the ashes and begins to turn around. but your low "hey!" stops him in his tracks. he cranes his neck back to look at you, the sky dark around you both but the light from the streetpoles clearly showing both of your expressions.

his is unnervingly blank, only a flicker of soft sympathy in his eye while your own, still heartbroken, also holds a curious, maybe even a wary look. because why would this stranger do that? could he have felt that bad?

you make your way up to him, feeling slightly intimidated when he fully turns around and you see just how much he towers over you. but it's funny because his face is shockingly...sweet looking, like a fresh-faced boy you'd see in church or volunteering at a nursing home.

but then his large stature, the shoulders you can't stop eyeing, his all black attire mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke and cologne makes for a very strange contrast. even his voice, when he finally mumbles back a "hi," is sweet sounding.

"why did you...the waitress said you paid my bill." your tone is quiet and small but still manages to sound accusatory.

"i did, i'm sorry," he says and you're wondering if the pink flush on his cheeks is from the cold. "i hope you didn't mind." you find yourself staring at him blankly, eyebrows pinched together because...did he really just apologize for that?

"i...well no but..i..it was probably expensive," you eventually get out, "you didn't have to do that."

"well, neither did he," yunho mumbles and you can tell by the airiness in his tone he didn't mean anything bad by it. but it doesn't stop your face from dropping slightly, lips pressing into a firm line to distract yourself from your stinging eyes.

"i'm sorry, that was insensitive," he winces, the sincerity in his tone only confirming your thoughts. "but i just... i wanted to pay for it. why should you have?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, shrugging your shoulders lightly because you don't really know what to say back to that.

"because i'm the one who got dumped," you squeak out before a humorless laugh bubbles out of you. "dumped on our anniversary. how pathetic is that?"

"it's pathetic of him," the boy grunts out and you cock your head to the side at how mad he sounds.

"i-i guess..." you say after a few quiet seconds before words start pouring out of you. "i just.. can't believe it. i don't know what i'm gonna do now. i've been with him for so long and got so used to him and then he really went and-" your voice breaking cuts off your sentence, like it's finally hitting you that the relationship is over.

because no matter how bad it was, it was still something you put years of yourself into. years of effort and years of memories and you feel so stupid for feeling this upset when there's far more bad than good.

"i'm sorry, you definitely don't wanna hear this," you laugh out humorlessly as tears sting your eyes. "but...i just wanted to thank you for paying the bill. i wish i could make it up to you somehow, it was probably expensive."

you meet his gaze to see him smiling slightly at you, even though you're on the verge of a breakdown and talking far too much.

"you're welcome," he says before hesitantly continuing. "i was gonna go walk around for a bit. do you wanna join?"

when you look up at him with a wary expression, he puts his hands up in defense, eyes soft and wide as he shakes his head. "it might clear your head a little, that's all."

your fragile heart warms at the gesture but you find yourself declining, insisting you're not the best company right now and that'd he probably regret inviting you.

"i don't think so," he says and his voice is just so kind that you're questioning if he's even real, questioning why on earth this stranger seems to care about your wellbeing. and when he sees you're still teetering, teeth sunk into your lip as you look at him with conflict in your eyes, a sweet smile spreads across his face.

"c'mon, you said you wanted to make it up to me."

your lips purse to the side, eyebrow raised ever so slightly before letting out a quiet sigh. "okay... but don't say i didn't warn you."

his smile widens as his long arms come out to showcase the sidewalk in front of him and you find yourself giggling slightly at his dramatics. you take one last look back at the restaurant before exhaling sharply and feeling his looming presence next to you as you both begin to walk.

"so....were you there with friends tonight?" you chirp, hoping to distract your impending nervousness with conversation.

he tells you he had met his mom there for dinner, who brought along his new step-father he can't help but detest. but he sat politely all throughout the appetizer and main course until one too many ignorant and snappy comments had him putting the man in his place.

"he was also mean to the waitress which is why i eventually snapped," he tells you. and by snapped, he means lowly speaking for him to either find some manners or piss off. "my mom asked for the check so fast and they left within five minutes. so i stayed for a drink."

"i could so use a drink right now," you laugh out, "but it sounds like you were in the right. you're just all types of chivarlous, huh?"

you peak up at him to see a smirk cross his face, his eyes falling to you at the same time and pink covers both your cheeks at being caught. but you and him will pretend it's because of the harsh winds whipping through the city; yes, the whipping wind, definitely not the soft curious gazes and arms bumping into each other clumsily.

"what made that obvious?"

you shake your head as another giggle falls from your lips, tightening the sweater around your body when a particularly harsh breeze pelts into you again. and of course, the boy next to you immediately notices, hears the clattering of your teeth and sharp intake of breath.

"you cold?"

"no, i'm okay," you squeak out. but you already see his movements from the corner of your eye taking off the black bomber jacket.

"please don't give me your coat, i can not-"

but it's already placed around your shoulders before you can finish your sentence, a knowing smirk on his lips when you huff at him, exasperated.

"....i was gonna say your name but it appears i don't even know it."

his deep chuckle rings through the air, stopping his feet so he can properly put his hand out.

"i'm yunho."

"y/n," you say back, taking his large hand in yours and what an innapropriate time for you to admire its sheer size and the length of his fingers. "you're... nice, too nice."

his smile widens looking down at you, hands still intertwined as he cocks his head to the side. "because i gave a cold girl my jacket?"

"and paid for her bill. and welcomed her on a walk," you say, "i'm wondering how much more i can get out of your very obvious pity."

his smile falters, eyebrows knitting as he shakes his head. "i'm not doing this out of pity."

the firm way in which he says it has you lowering your head shyly, eyes on the concrete as you take the hand in his back. all of your emotions are out of wack tonight, your chest not knowing how to feel, broken and aching over that awful dinner but also...slightly warmed by the actions of this random boy.

"then why are you doing it?" your voice sounds so small and it makes a frown cover his face now.

"can't i just be nice to you?" he asks, "why do i need a reason?"

"because we're...strangers," you say, looking up at him hesitantly and pressing your lips together nervously, "and you don't know me."

"everyone's strangers until they're not," he retorts, stepping just a smidge closer to you and it makes you swallow down the dry patch in your throat. "and maybe i want to know you."

when you can't find the words to respond, heart racing and throat clogged, he speaks up again.

"let me distract you tonight."

your eyebrow raises, head turning to the side because you don't know what to make of that comment. because you know you're vulnerable right now, know you should probably go home and cope normally in the form of crying and ice cream.

but you trust him for some reason. trust his soft voice and kind eyes and the way he seems so genuine and pure despite his dark appearance.

"what do you have in mind?" you find yourself asking, stomach fluttering and whether it's from nervousness or his bright smile, you don't know.

"could you still use a drink?"

12:22 a.m

"okay, i think....this is a weeeee bit unsafe!" you say as you stumble up the stairs behind him, his hand pulling you carefully by one of your fingers.

"probably," he says, "but we'll be okay."

the sound of a door squeaking open is the first thing you hear, the harsh whipping of wind the next as your hair blows back and coldness envelops your body. yunho bends to stick a brick in the door before guiding you to the middle of the rooftop.

the dark sky is lit by faint lights shining from apartment buildings and bulletin boards, the only sound an occasional honk of a horn making it's way up the 20 stories. you disconnect your hands to stumble over to the edge, placing them on the cold concrete to peer your head over. you take in the sight of tall buildings and taxis and little figures of people walking the streets.

"heeelllooo!" you scream down at them, your hands cupping your mouth in hopes someone will hear you. yunho's laugh echoes through the sky, quickly walking over to place a hand on your lower back.

"be careful."

you turn around, back now resting on the ledge as you poke his chest lightly. "you're the one that said we'll be okay," you mutter, lowering your voice to imitate his words. "because i'm big and strong and a suspiciously nice boy."

"okay, nice you told me," he says, voice teasing as he stares down at you with bright eyes. "but big and strong, you say?"

"very big and very strong," you say, letting your finger travel from his chest to his shoulder. he watches your eyes follow your hand, roaming from one side of him to the other before meeting his eyes. and it's like his gaze acts as an electric shock, your hand immediately falling from the black material.

"and i had very too much drink."

he smiles down at you, making sure to stay close because he'd be lying if he said you being so close to the edge didn't make him nervous. and perhaps this wasn't his best idea, bringing you up to the roof of his apartment complex after you had one too many beers.

but it's a nice place to clear your head, to take in the sights of the city in a less noisy and crowded way. and he thinks you could use that after the night you had, after the night he couldn't help but hear take place as he sat alone at the bar.

he had ohad a perfect view of you all night. you caught his eye the second he sat down, your shy smile and the way you fidgeted nervously with your hair making him not being able to tear his gaze away.

but then he'd heard the bored tone of the guy across from you, the way he was barely entertaining the conversation and just avoided all your softly spoken questions. he had tightened his grip around the beer bottle one too many times, sick and tired of asshole men who never learned how to respect other people.

"i just wanted my cheesecake."

your sudden whine rips him from his thoughts and he can't help the smirk creeping up on his face.

"which one? the tiramisu?"

it's your surprised gasp and bright eyes that has a smile stretching across his face and your own heart warms upon seeing it. because he is super cute.

"yes! oh, my gosh, yes!" you giggle, "have you had it?"

"every time i go," he chuckles out, "except tonight."

"me too," you say and the sudden thought that he wants to kiss the pout off your face comes into his head. but that would absolutely absurd because he's only known you two hours and you just got broken up with and you're a bit tipsy; there's just far too many reasons for him not to do it.

so he lifts his hand to your mouth, his thumb and pointer finger lifting your face into a smile. you giggle against his hand, opening your mouth playfully and pretending to bite it but he quickly rips it away.

"hey!" his voice is deep but teasing and it makes you squeal as you drunkely trot away from him. in fear that you'll somehow stumble over the edge, he chases after you but the sound of his feet causes you to speed up. your laugh echoes on the rooftop, his own deep chuckles and pleas of "stop!" ringing through the air.

and he wishes you would've listened because no less than ten seconds later do you trip over your shoe lace, stumbling and crashing down right on your side. he yelps your name, rushing over and is grateful to see your head didn't ricochet off the concrete.

"oops," you giggle out, rolling onto your back as you rub at your side. he kneels over you, assessing your face for any injuries and sighing in relief when you're unscathed. but then you sit up, looking around in a daze before your eyes land on the untied white lace.

"okay so not my fault....my shoe was untied."

"i see that," yunho laughs out, tapping his large hand on his knee. you look at him with a small unsure smile.

"let me tie you up."

your eyes widen for a split second, mouth dropping open and you see how bright red his face his face gets even in the dark.

"your shoe! let me tie your shoe up! so you don't fall again." you plop your foot down with a nervous laugh and watch his long fingers double knot your laces before gently placing it down. "next one," he says with a smile, "just in case."

you purse your lips to the side to hide your own, sticking your foot on him before laying back on the cold ground. he plops on his butt after he finishes tying the second shoe, watching you lay there and he hopes you don't fall asleep.

a few moments pass before he hears your quiet voice.

"what'd you say?" he asks, leaning his head towards you. but now it's his eyes that are widening, your hand pulling him by his sweater and if he didn't put his arms out, he probably would've fallen right on top of you. his large figure rolls off, laying right beside you just as you speak again.

"stars," you slur, "i wish we could see them here." because you're just staring at the black abyss, the crescent shaped moon the only thing beaming down at you. but what you'd give to see a sky full of twinkling stars, because there's a sense of wonder in them that always makes you feel better.

"i know, that'd be nice," he sighs. and it's a thought he's also had when he'd sneak up here. whether it was after rough days or okay days or great days, he always found solace up here. but he always thought, especially on those particular nights he felt gloomy, that the stars would've been good company.

"what made you take me up here, anyway?" you hum curiously.

he moves his gaze, watching you look at the sky and he feels his chest tighten. because it's like the moon is reflecting in your eyes, the only source of light shining down on you as you look up and take it all in. and even though your cheeks are red from the wind and tears and your hair is windblown and knotty, "you're beautiful."

he says it so lowly that you wouldn't have heard it if a harsh blow of wind whipped through the air. but because it didn't, because everything up here is now still and unmoving, you crane your neck to look at him.

"what?"

his cheeks flush ever so slightly because he did not mean to blurt that out. but he got lost in his admiration, in the way you looked so angelic and at peace and content and now he really has to work on answering you.

"i'm sorry," he says, voice sounding breathy and flustered. "i meant....i mean, i don't know, really. i just think it's a nice place to get away for a bit."

he thinks he might've scared you off by his compliment, watching you turn your head back to the sky and remain silent for a few beats of time. his brain is screaming at him now that you're gonna jump up and run away and think his intentions were anything but pure. but then his brain and body relax when your soft voice begins to speak up.

"it is," you squeak quietly, "i...think this was a good first choice."

"first choice?"

your head snaps to look at him again, a smile on your face at just his presence next to you. because he's the type of person who has a light around them, who makes you feel at ease and whose soul you just know is good.

"well yeah," you squeak out, "i have you as a distraction all night, right?"

a big smile of his own brightens his face and you feel your heart flutter, jumping and shifting at the way he just looks so happy.

"you do."

"well, i have our second place in mind. but we might have to take a taxi," you explain to him, "on me, of course."

"no need," he says, "this is actually my apartment building. my car is downstairs."

you huff out as your eyes roll and he chuckles when you stare at him with a pained expression.

"what?"

"you're too chivalrous!" you whine, smacking his chest lightly as you cross your legs. he only smiles as he shakes his head at you. but his heart hurts because the bare minimum for you would probably seem like an act of chivarly.

"fine. i'll drive myself there and you can walk," he teases, poking your kneecap lightly when he says the word 'you'.

"deal," you giggle and he bites his lip at the sound, placing his large arm behind his head before you continue. "but first..."

he watches you unzip his jacket, fishing inside of it before whipping out two beer bottles with a smile. "i'd like to finish these, if that's okay."

"did you smuggle those out?!" he asks, humor in his tone as he leans up on his elbows.

"well, i paid for them of course!" you squeak, cheeks heating up at the way he's looking at you with his soft eyes and red cheeks. but then it occurs to you why his poor face is probably bright red. "and since we're at your house now....can i please ask something of you?"

he raises his eyebrow at you.

"please get yourself a jacket."

2:38 a.m.

he'd been driving for a little over an hour when you quietly alert him that you've almost arrived. he'd been led to a suburban area, brick houses lined with garden gnomes and mini vans in a quiet town. he smiles when he drives around the corner and sees a fenced in playground, two jungle gyms equipped with monkey bars and slides as well as a swingset in the farthest corner.

"ah, so this is destination 2?"

"yeah..." he hears you mumble quietly, "do you think it's stupid?"

he looks over at you when he hears the almost whispered tone in your voice, eyes staring down at your lap with your hands tucked into one another tightly. it seems like you think he's gonna berate you, like you're reliving some sort of bad memory and expecting history to repeat itself.

so without thinking, he reaches out with his hand and places it over yours. the unexpected warmth causes you to jump, looking up at him with glossy, hazed eyes.

"of course not," he says softly and you swallow the lump in your throat. "i'm pleasantly surprised. i haven't been on a playground in forever."

the smallest of smiles makes its way on your face, whipping your head back to the park and wiggling your feet. "me either," you mumble.

"then let's go, shall we?" he hums, removing his hand from yours as he turns off the car and opens his door to get out. you just manage to place your hand on the handle when five seconds later, he's opening and holding the passenger side door for you.

"i'm not even gonna say it," you mumble before thanking him quietly. he chuckles as he follows you to one side of the park, a gaping hole in the fence that easily allows the average sized body to slip through. but it proves a bit more challengingly for him, a giggle leaving your mouth as you take him by the hand and pull him the rest of the way in.

"i forgot you're a giant."

he scoffs playfully at you, running past you to get to the swings first. but you're sluggish in your movements, teetering and eyes heavy because you really shouldn't have had those two drinks. you were hoping it'd liven your spirits, make you more fun and playful.

but it appears when you're as sad as you are, the fun parts of drinking get skipped over and the sorrow you're feeling only heightens. and the boy smiling at you on the swing is making it easier, the way he talked and laughed with you in the car, the way he's parading you around and keeping you company so you're not lonely and sad. but you still feel it, feel like you're being crushed by the pain in your chest and torn in two different directions.

"i shouldn't have drank," you whine, taking a seat on the swing and leaning your head against the cool chain. your statement immediately has his eyes widening, his feet stopping on the gravel and looking at you.

"why?" he asks, slight panic in his voice, "are you gonna puke?"

"no," you giggle out slightly as you shake your head. "i just...i know my company's about to get pretty depressing." you swallow the lump forming in your throat, feeling tight and like you're about to choke on it. "your distractions have been....great but i'm still feeling so- i don't know why i'm-"

you feel his hands on your knee, the warmth radiating through your pants as he's bent down and looking at you with those kind brown eyes.

"hey, it's okay," he says softly and it has tears stinging behind your own because he looks at you nicer than he ever did and here you are crying over that waste when you could be getting to know him. "it'd be unusual if you didn't, y/n, it just happened."

your teeth dig into your lip to stop it from trembling, sniffling against the cold air. "i guess...i brought him here once you know."

"yeah?"

his heart wrenches seeing you stare down at your lap dejectedly, moving your foot in small circles that his thumbs micmic on your knee. and that's the way you stay for a while, in the cold silence together as he stays bent down rubbing your knee, your eyes trailing from your lip to his long fingers that have such a gentle touch.

"when we first started dating," you finally say quietly because it was probably one the first red flags that he wasn't gonna be the best boyfriend. you'd been dating for two months, driving back into the city after his first time meeting your parents when you asked him if you could show him one of your favorite places.

and you don't know why you were so surprised when he laughed at you, raised an eyebrow and scoffed  because 'why would a grown adult wanna go to a playground?'

"did he like it?" he asks, seeing that you're in your head again.

"of course not," you laugh out humorlessly, "he thought it was so stupid. asked why either of us would even wanna go here when we're full grown adults. but i...i don't know, i came here all the time when i was younger and wanted to show him. i though it'd be fun."

he forgets he's holding onto your knee so you look down when he squeezes it between his large hand, eyes tight and jaw slightly clenched as he shakes his head.

"he's the stupid one," yunho bites into the cold air, "you wanted to show him something meaningful and he couldn't see that."

you shrug as a quiet sigh leaves your mouth. you don't even know why you keep talking but words just keep falling out of you, making you even more mopey and sad and you know he's absolutely regretting this. regretting spending his night with a whiney loser who can't stay out of her own sad head, who doesn't ever know what to say back so you lapse into silence while uncomfortable thoughts plague your mind.

"would you break up with someone like that?" he hears your voice ask lowly and his stomach twists at your question. because it was so random and out of nowhere, he knows you've probably been mulling over everything for these past few silent minutes.

"would you just spring it on a person like that? at a restaurant in front of people?"

he doesn't even have to think about his response.

"no," he mumbles truthfully, "i...don't think i could ever."

you sniffle because you had known that would be his answer. he's nice and kind and everything you wanted your boy....ex-boyfriend to be.

"but i've also never broken up with anyone before," he shares quietly.

you wipe at the lone tear that finally escaped your eye, cringing when you see your makeup on his jacket.

"oh? but you've had a girlfriend before, right?"

when he doesn't answer, your eyes widen and you quickly correct yourself when you meet his gaze. "or boyfriend..."

a small smile crosses his face as he shakes his head. "it'd be girlfriend..." he says teasingly, "but no... i've never really dated anyone, officially. just flings and stuff."

"why?" you squeak out and his eyes flicker to you, roaming your face to see an avid curiosity in your wide, glossy eyes.

"i don't know," he says honestly and he wishes he had a better answer for you. "it's not like i haven't wanted one...i just never found the right person, i guess."

you can only hum thoughtfully, nodding as you take in this new bit of information. because how is it possible that he can't manage to find the right person?

"well who would that be then?"

when he looks up from your knees, he sees you looking down at him with your head back against the chain. and if was anyone else, he'd think they were asking coyly. like they were trying flirt or be tempting.

but he knows that's not the case, even if he wants it to be.

"someone good," he says after thinking about it for a second, "someone i can have fun with but also be serious with. just someone...genuine and sweet, who i know deserves the best."

"you just described yourself," you mumble and he can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him.

"yeah? i thought that kind of sounded like someone else here," he responds lowly, his deep voice causing your gaze to meet his. you bite your lip nervously at the eye contact and any other time it'd make you nervous and fidgety. but now, because you're in the state you're in, you can't look away.

and it's a state he knows you're in as well which is what causes him to look away and stand up, moving himself behind you until his hands meet the middle of your back. you jump in surprise, craning your neck back to look at him.

but before you can ask him what's happening, you start flying into the air. you let out a small squeal as you tighten your hold on the chains, his large hands pushing on your back as you swing.  

"don't fall again!"

"well, a warning would've been nice!" you squeak before another uncontrollable laugh cuts you off.

"that's not as fun."

he continues to push you until you whine for him to sit down next to you, pumping your legs as you two fight to get higher. but when he leans his head back a few minutes later and catches a glimpse of the dark sky, he's halting and grabbing you to stop the swing.

"what're you doing, cheater! i was winning!"

"come with me."

he grabs your hand and leads you over to the jungle gym, guiding you up to the highest platform before craning his neck up.

"what're you doing?" you ask as you mimic him before a gasp cuts you off. because the exposed ceiling of the playground shows off the sky full of bright twinkling stars, the lack of light pollution from the bustling city allowing you to see just what you're robbed of every night.

"the stars!" you squeal, looking at him excitedly and he feels his chest constrict like it has every time that bright smile comes out. "they're so pretty."

"they are," he mumbles, watching you plop down on the cold floor and lay out to stargaze. he smiles softly before joining you, bending his legs so he fits on the platform. and just like on the rooftop, your arms press together but neither of you make any attempts to move them.

and then if your head somehow ends up grazing his shoulder, he only peaks down with a smile that matches your own.

4:10 a.m.

once the cold got too much, lips chapped and hands red, you both ran to the car and waited anxiously for the heat to crank up. there was a sense in the air that your time wasn't over yet, neither one of you mentioning going home or ending the night despite the early morning hours creeping around.

so it's why you ended up picking up food at a 24-hour conveience store, crumps of snacks and water bottles littering the floor of his car. why you're both just pulled over on the side of the empty highway, the occurence of another flashing pair of headlights rare.

"so what do you usually do on a friday night?" you chirp as your feet rest on the dashboard, "you know, when you're not accompanying a weepy dumpee?"

"don't call yourself that," he laughs out, "but usually just at one of my friends. we're a boring bunch so you've actually spiced up my night."

"now i know that's a lie," you quip, poking his arm lightly and the sound of his deep chuckle has your cheeks heating. he is cute.

"it's not," he assures turning his head to the side to throw you a wink. "and thank you."

your body freezes as a gasp leaves your mouth, snapping your head to look at him. he doesn't laugh because of how wide your eyes are, how shocked and horrified you look that you just said that aloud, but he really wants to.

"i...i didn't say- oh, my god."

"what's so bad about that? i blurted out that you were beautiful two hours into meeting," he says, embarassment laced in his tone.

your cheeks heat at the memory, a shy smile on your face as you look down to hide the bright blush. it's daring on his part, daring to reach out and lift your face, rub his thumb along the warm skin and smile softly as he does so.

"why are you hiding?"

"because you're crazy," you say lowly, quietly, and you're cursing the dinner and the way this sweet boy affects you for your low self-esteem ruining the car's atmosphere.

"fine, i'm crazy," he says, "but you're still bea-"

"i'm not," you interupt quietly, before he can say those words and warm your heart and make you wanna kiss him. because that would be a terrible idea. even though you want to, even though you've developed the fastest crush in history and it would be so easy to just scoot over a few inches, move your head in just a little and-

"why? because he broke up with you?"

you bite your lip at the reminder, roaming over his face that's unwavering and serious. dark eyes looking into yours, focused on nothing but you with his hand still on your cheek. you swallow the ball forming in your throat as he waits for you to answer.

"yes," you mumble, feeling your eyes gloss over before you move your face to look back out the window. he sighs next to you and you can feel his gaze on you, boring into you and the tightness in your throat is almost suffocating you.

"i'm sorry, y/n, but you have to know-"

"stop it," you mumble brokenly, "please stop."

"why," he says softly and he's surprised by himself for pushing you. but he can't help it, not as he watches your fleeting moments of happiness fade in and out the way they have all night, sees your eyes water and hands start to fidget.

there's only a tense silence in the car for the next few moments, your eyes out the window and his on you as he watches your fingers fold into each other.

"he didn't deserve you," he suddenly says and you look up with your eyebrows furrowed, a humorless laugh leaving your mouth.

"how could you say that, you don't even know him," you mumble, hating that you're sitting here and defending him. and for what? you already knew he was the worst.  

"from the things you've told me. from what i saw and heard with my own ears," he tells you quietly. "i...he acted as if he wanted to be anywhere else but with you. and i just couldn't imagine why. because you seemed so... sweet and happy to be there with him."

you swallow nervously at his intense gaze and words, reaching out to fumble with the heat because it just got uncomfortably warm in here.

"why are you saying these things?" you ask suddenly, snapping your head up to look at him. "why are you still being so nice to me?"

he lets out a strangled sigh, his hard eyes looking you over and it makes something in you burn.

"i get it, you feel bad and wanted to play the knight in shining armor for a pathetic girl. but i can't take it, tonight. i can't take you...saying these things to me and not meaning it. just saying it out of pity."

"that wasn't why i did it," he's quick to say and there's something building in the air, a light buzzing as you become more snappy and he becomes more adament to prove himself to you. "and how do you know i don't mean it? i never felt pity for you."

"because it doesn't make any sense," you squeak out brokenly, "you're...you and i'm just some sad girl who can't keep her boyfriend interested enough to remember their fucking anniversary. can't keep her boyfriend happy enough to wanna stay with her and instead be dumped at-"

it's his large hand grabbing your jaw that starts it. halts your words and connects your gazes and has shaky, strangled breaths leaving your mouth. has him mumbling "stop it," through gritted teeth and you snarling a firm, "no."

and it could've been him bringing you forward or you pulling him closer but somehow, after a few beats of lingering gazes and breathy sighs, your lips connect.

at first neither of you even realized what happened, lips instinctually moving against one another and eyes shutting. his hand moves to your cheek and yours move to his shoulder, squeezing it lightly to ground yourself, make sure this is really happening because apparently the warm tingly feeling in your body isn't proof enough.

but it's what makes him rips himself away from you, chest heaving up and down from the adrenline of acting upon the feelings and actions he wanted to the moment he saw your smile on the rooftop.

"i'm sorry," he breaths out, eyes trained on the steering wheel, "i shouldn't have done that."

and if he thinks he shouldn't have done that, then you certainly don't think crawling over the console to straddle his lap would be the next appropriate move. but you do because it's like the second your lips met, you realized just how much you wanted and needed that.

his body freezes, back pressed right up against the black leather seat when watches you climb over. he looks down at you, dark eyes with a mix of agony and surprise and he's trying so hard to remain the nice, gentle boy he's been all night.

but then you bunch his shirt up between your hands, pull him down a few inches from your lips and mumble a plea to kiss you again against his mouth that has your lips crashing into one another again. his arms wrap around your waist hesitantly, your back arching when you feel how big his hands feel on your back, the warmth from his skin penetrating through your shirt. and it's all the encouragement he needs to tighten his hold around you, part his mouth and allow his tongue to sweep across your lips.

you stiffle a moan at the intrusion, meet his with yours as you slightly roll your hips on him. "y/n..." he groans against your lips but you only hum against them, body buzzing and the sound of heavy breathing fanning throughout the car only is only making you more willing to kiss him, to press yourself against his body and give yourself over to him.

but he quickly stops again, disconnecting your lips and squeezing your hips lightly. "wait..we shouldn't ...i don't wanna make you-"

"please," you say breathlessly, almost like a whine because your desire had been harboured by sadness but you now you don't even care. not with the feeling of him under you and the taste of him lingering on your lips and the way he's looking at you. "i want you."

"this isn't how how or why i wanted to distract you," he grunts out, "i swear i didn't-"

"yunho," you say, eyes boring into his and when he looks at you with wide, questioning eyes, you place a peck on his lips. "shut up."

and shut up he does when you bring his face down to yours, grinding his hips up into you at your eagerness and a tiny moan leaves your mouth at the feeling. because you feel the hint of a bulge and now arousal is just pounding through you.

your hands move to his hair, pulling and tugging and grinding against him and you hadn't realized how pent up sexually you were. and like the man under you has transformed into a new person, you just about faint when he disconnects your lips and mumbles against them, "he wasn't fucking you right, was he?"

your hazy, half-lidded gaze moves to him and you swallow at how different he looks. messy hair, red lips, dark eyes looking at you with such an intense, lustful gaze. and his voice, his deep and almost condescending tone causing wetness to pool between your legs.

"no," you whine out frustratedly.

"i can tell," he mutters teasingly and the way he says it makes your stomach flutter. his lips trail against your neck, kissing down and down as you lean your head back and bite your lips to suppress a moan.

"i'm gonna make you feel good, make you moan my name and come on my tongue and then fuck you right," he says pulling away from your neck to make you look at him, "is that good, baby? is that what you want?"

his dick twitches when he sees your roused hair and flushed face, eyes glossy and lips abused from his kiss and your teeth.

"hm?" he mutters again when you can only stare at him as your chest heaves.

"yes," you moan out and you can't believe how quickly you've fallen so needy and wet, "please."

"yes what?" he growls, "say my name."

"yunho. yes, yunho, please."

he lays you down on the seat, sliding it all the way back until he has just enough leg room to crouch down by the floor. he snakes his hands up your legs and thighs slowly, rubbing along your core and smiling when you thrash and twitch on the seat.

"are you gonna be wet for me, baby? i hope that's what i'm gonna see."

"yes, yunho," you repeat and he sharply inhales at how quickly you've learned to listen, how eager you are to respond and how you're already widening your legs.

"you're such a good girl, you know that?" he hums, undoing your pants with his fingers and you make sure to crane your neck to watch him. and it doesn't get lost on him either, smirking as his tugs your pants down to mid-thigh and you moan in response. your eyes roll back when you see his long finger trail against your wet lace thong and he has to surpress the growl in his throat.

"look at these," he hums moving them to the side just a little to graze your wetness and licks his lips when he feels his fingers get slick with your arousal.

"you," you gasp out, desperate for his touch or his tongue or just to feel him do anything but teasingly have his finger on you. "for you."

"yeah?" he mumbles, slowly moving around your dripping slit and you swallow down a loud moan. "you know. i wanted to kiss you all night," he hums, sliding your soaked thong down slowly and kissing in your inner thigh, "but i didn't think i'd get this lucky."

and with that, his hair grazes your stomach as he dips his head and places his tongue on your clit, lapping over it before trailing down to lick and taste more of you.

"holy shit," you gasp out and it only causes his tongue's assault to build frantically, sucking and licking and moaning against your wetness as he mumbles how good you taste. your hand moves to his hair, pulling and twisting the strands of hair and then gripping it harshly when you feel his finger slide into you.

"yunho," you screech out and you catch his eyes looking up at you, the image of him right between your legs, his mouth grazes over your burning core causing your own to roll back.

"look at me."

his deep voice commands it with such deep authority, so different than his sweet soft-spoken words, that you roll your head back to look at him with hazy eyes.

"i want you to watch me. watch me eat and finger this tight little pussy until you're screaming my name," he growls, bringing his other hand up to squeeze your bare thigh. "understand? i want you to watch me."

you nod your head frantically and you think you would've agreed to anything just for his tongue to go back on you and his finger to start pounding into you. and when it does, when he finally starts again between your legs, you bite your lips so your eyes don't roll back again.

because his tongue lapping over your clit, his long finger pounding up into you as looks right at you is quickly becoming too much. you can't ever remember a time oral felt like this, felt so consuming and had you making the sorts of moans and whines vibrating throughout the car.

"oh my god," you whine lowly, rolling your hips over his face but it only causes the hand not in your pussy to pin you down by your hips.

"hey," he warns lowly, his wet lips retracting from between your legs, "you've been so good for me, baby. what happened?"

"i'm sorry," you whine, "it just feels so-" his tongue laps at your clit teasingly and you screech "good, feels so good," when he sucks it into his hot mouth.

"i think i need to sit you on my cock," he says and the pride that floods through him when you clench around his finger is all consuming. "what do you think?"

"yes, yunho," you say, trying to remember how he likes you good, "please, i wanna sit on your cock." and it pays off because one second your laid out on your back, the next your pants are at your ankles and he's flipped you guys so you're straddling him again.

you feel his hardness under you, peaking down and your eyes widening when you see his sheer size. "whoa..."

your cheeks flush when you hear his deep chuckle, his hand running through your sweaty hair as he lifts your head.

"i'll be gentle."

but in a bold move, you spit on your hand and jerk his cock causing him to sputter in the seat below you. "i hope not," you mutter, eyes teasing and voice low and he squints his eyes at you.

"oh no?" he hums, "then sit."

thighs wet from the arousal dripping out of you, you swirl the tip around your slit teasingly and throw your heard back with a moan. and it's the only reason he humors it, because the way you look with your head thrown back, chest heaving and mouth hung open, is enough to make his already throbbing cock ache for you even more.

you move it to your clit, pressing him into it and grinding as a whiney cry leaves your lips. "oh my god," you squeak, your eyes shooting to his and you connect your lips again. he meets your kiss with the same fervor, taking his cock from your hold and lining it up with your entrance.

"i need to fuck you now," he growls, "please, baby."

"yes," you mumble against his lips, groaning out against him when you feel him enter you and stretch your walls. you both let out breathy moans when he fully enters, him because "you're so fucking tight" and you because "you're so big, yunho," and it's all the motivation you need to start grinding your hips onto him.

his hands dig into your hips, urging you on with coos of pet names and expletives that have you grinding and bouncing and moaning out. and if anyone were hitch hiking on the side of the road right now, it wouldn't take an expert to know just what was going on inside.

because both your deep moans and grunts are echoing throughout the car. your heavy breathing and sighs have fogged up the windows of the shaking car from your rolling and grinding and his thrusting to find that spot within you.

the spot he finds only a few minutes later that has you falling forward into the crook of his neck, bouncing your wet heat on him because you hear his strangled breathing and loud grunts until the familiar hot feeling of him releasing inside you has moans ripping out of your chests in unison.

it takes a while for your breathing to turn even, for your shaking legs to simmer and the ringing in his ears to stop. but when it does, he kisses the top of your head still buried in the crook of his neck and gently places you in the seat next to him.

he fumbles with the glove compartment and takes out a wipe, gently dabbing between your legs as you lay your head back on the leather seat.

"you okay?" he quietly laughs out seeing you still in a post-orgasm daze.

"i'm....good, great," you say, a laugh bubbling out of you before shyly thanking him for cleaning you. because even in the car, directly after an intense sex-crazed adrenaline rush, he still remembers aftercare. and you think if it was possible to fall in love with someone in a night, with a heart as fragile as yours, he'd be the person to make it happen.

"me too," he says quietly, throwing the wipe in the empty plastic bag before he looks over your face. "i...that was uh great, really great."

his face burns when you turn away to laugh into your shoulder, his deep of groan of "stop!" only making you giggle more. and like it wasn't the cause of what just happened in the first place, you mumble again that he's cute.

"also," you say, when your laugh and his red cheeks subside, "it'd probably be a good time to mention i'm on the pill."

6:49 a.m.

you're half asleep in the front seat of yunho's car, the familiar sounds of horns honking and the bustling city keeping you from falling into a full slumber. he had asked on the way back if he could bring you to one more place before you called it a night (even though the birds were chirping and sun was rising). and who were you to say no when he had smiled and asked so softly.

you pop your eyes open, hands under your cheek as you watch him silently bob his head to the soft music. he's at a red light, one hand atop the steering wheel as he looks over to see you staring.

"hey sleepy," he says, reaching out to fix your slightly messy hair. "i'm sorry, i know you're tired but we're almost there."

"s'okay," you mumble, meeting his soft eyes with a smile, "i don't wanna leave you yet anyway."

"oh no?" he hums softly and his heart tightens when you sees a shy blush cross your face.

"i didn't mean to say that," you sigh out sleepily and his small chuckle rings through the car.

"i was hoping you did," he says, hand moving from your head to pink cheek, "because i don't wanna leave you yet either."

the sound of a honk promptly ruins the moment, yunho's eyes moving to squint into the mirror before he drives off. you giggle as you shut your eyes again, burrowing yourself further into the leather.

he shakes you awake a few moments later, his hand on your shoulder as he looks down at with you soft brown eyes.

"we're here."

"where?" you mumble, sitting up and peaking out the window to see a small bakery.

"let me show you."

he gets out and meets you around the passenger side door, opening it for you and extending his hand out to you; you take it without a second thought and he smiles as he intertwines your fingers.

you walk up to the bakery door, the fresh smell of baked bread wafting through the empty store. the faint welcome from the worker is drowned out as your eyes peer over the shelves, bread and cookies and cakes lined up behind the streak-free glass.

you look up at him curiously when he leads you over to the cakes, tightening his hold on your hand when you guys stop in front of the display.

"pick anything you want."

you cock your head to the side before your eyes roam over the selection, squinting your eyes to read the script in front of every pastry when a tiny gasp escapes your lips.

"is that a-"

"tiramisu cheesecake," he confirms, "i heard it's really good here."

you stare at the glass as your heart tightens in your chest and you can't believe you have any tears left to sting behind your eyes today. but you don't wanna cry, even if they're happy tears, so it's why you lean your head against his arm and press your lips into a firm line.

"and i don't know if it's as good as that one," he says lowly, "but i figured it could hold you over until we....until you go back."

you lift your head to stare at him and he pouts upon seeing the one on your face. but before he can ask what's wrong or if he overstepped, your arm is wrapped around his body as you press your head into his chest.

"thank you," you choke out, "i....thank you." because if you try to say anymore, your hope that not even happy tears escape your eyes will be gone to shit.

and it's like he knows that. so he presses his lips to the top of your head and asks for a slice, your body still attached to his when he pays and ushers you out to the car.

and that's where you tell him you're so thankful for this cake but you also wanna enjoy the other one too. and at first he doesn't understand, his eyebrows furrowed together as he nods his head hesitantly.

"so i was thinking....maybe not this week, so i don't show up with a new boy right away...but next week, maybe we can go to-"

"yes," he blurts out and a big smile makes its way on your face when you see he can barely hold back his excitement. and he doesn't even care too.

because as he takes you home, you excitedly talk it over and exchange numbers. and he's quick to tell you you can start out as friends first, that he doesn't expect anything from you and will take this new found relationship at whatever pace you decide to set.

but you hope the smirk you throw his way shows him that you know within a few weeks time, you'll completely forget about the boy who made you so upset and dropped you into his lap, now filling you with such an excited, hopeful feeling even in your sleep deprived state.

you direct him to your apartment building and you thank him again for the night, sweet smiles and lingering gazes as you both delay separating.

but because that time has come, you gather your cake and open the door after teasing him that he better not get out and do it for you.

"so, i'll see you next week?" you ask quietly, a small shy smile on your face.

"next week," he says, watching you with a smile and light heart as you barrel up your apartment stairs and he gives himself two hours before his fingers start itching to text you.

[whump-town]

In His Eyes

Warning: abuse, mental health, lots of talk about food and starvation, hospital, suicide attempt, suicidal ideations, cutting, and self-harm, cursing, and it’s just very dark

Listen, this might be a little much. The themes are dark and it’s far from a happy story

Main Characters Are Aaron Hotchner, Jessica Brooks, and Haley Hotchner

Probably OOC but I don’t care

His pulse is slow against her fingers but there. She calls 911, sobbing. Choking around the weight of his name on her tongue. Will they let her back this time? To hold his hand? He gets nightmares. He won’t like being alone. “He’s--He’s twenty-two,” she rasps, brushing his hair from his eyes. “This is his first year of law school.” And he’s so fucking smart. She needs them to know that. He’s kind. Always remembers her favorite foods and makes her laugh. He’s just a kid. They’re just kids and he’s the only person she’s ever loved. So, they have to help. Please, God, just help.

Final warning for themes of abuse, mental health, food, starvation, hospitals, suicide attempts, suicidal ideations, cutting, and self-harm

Word count: 9,137

For as long as Jessica Brookes has known her brother, he’s had the thin scars marring the pale, milky flesh of his arms. The first time she’d seen them, she was sixteen too old to play stupid but too afraid to call them what they were. At the time, he hadn’t been her brother. In fact, to the world, he had been no one at all. A ghost that walked the halls of their high school with his pained, sluggish movements and seemingly unseeing eyes. Sweaters dripping down his skinny frame and jeans that were made to fit someone nearly double his size. But, for what little credit it’s worth, no one had ever said a thing about him. He was no one. Nothing.

Haley had seen past all of that. Of course, she had. Haley had never loved anything whole. She drank from cracked plastic straws for fear of what would happen should she leave them behind. Thrown out, that’s what. The world has no use for a straw that can not do it’s one feasible job. Not to Haley, though. Their father used to call her Saint Haley, the patron saint of the discarded. And naturally, Haley clung to the idea of Saint Jude. Another lost soul, seemingly just like her, out there to collect others. A reminder that even the lost aren’t alone and that they may not be as lost as they think. And so how could any of them be surprised when Haley, who hung the moon and stairs, brought home her own lost being? Stumbling in clothes too large for his lithe frame and stinking of booze and cigarettes.

Aaron Hotchner has no place in their home. Jessica had been unwavering in this. Look at him. A semester ago, he’d been kicked off the track team for pot. He can’t even go out and get drunk with everyone else. He smokes cheap cigarettes out behind the Miller’s barn and, thought no one could prove it, they all blamed him for the dead birds and cat half-buried in the woods by the school. How could it not be him? With those large, trembling hands and his inability to stay away from trouble. How many fights had he been in this year? How many times had Jessica come from one of her classes to find the student body surrounding his bowed back as he sat over the hips of another boy, mercilessly beating him? So, how could that dirty boy be worth her sister? If she’d asked him, he’d answer her with the same thought Jessica knew better than to speak around Haley. He doesn’t.

So, how could any of this add up? Aaron Hotchner like a straw bent with damage has good in him too. Jessica had never seen the other boys. The way they pick and preen at him. Smacking his head and kicking at his ankles. Calling names at his back. The teachers never do a damn thing and why should they? He’s not the smartest kid in their classes. He sits in the back. Turns in mediocre work. He doesn’t get encouragement. “I know you’re capable of more than this, Aaron.” No, he gets sighs and shaking heads. So, when he takes action. Thrown to the end of his line, he is the bad guy. Because Aaron Hotchner is just the kid no one likes. His father’s name is the only thing keeping him from getting expelled. No one ever cares to see how he flinches from his father’s touch or the pain in his eyes when new bruises form across his body. Because they don’t care. But Haley. Haley cared and her love had been her one and only rebellion.

Jessica had been the sort to fall for the beauty of rebellion, not Haley. Her first boyfriend had been a biker, a senior who would break her heart. Rolling with anger at her father’s words, that she might be too young to know anything about love, had fallen head over heels for a girl in her biology class. And while she hadn’t given a thing to her senior ex-boyfriend of three months, she gave everything to that girl. Sarah Halls with her bright brown eyes and soft blonde hair. Which had effectively taken much of the heat off of Haley and Aaron. While that had not been the intended outcome, Jessica hadn’t minded taking it for his little sister. She’d found it entirely worth it when Sarah broke up with her a year and a half later. Which, to a heartbroken sixteen-year-old, had been everything. Years and years to which she could never get back. So she did what broken people do and spiraled into every self-destructive tendency she could think, that she could buy.

And Aaron had found her. Sweet Aaron with those thoughtless brown eyes and haggard discoloration over his exhausted face. She had slapped him when he first attempted to collect her. Sloppy drunk, high, and convinced that the world should just end right here. This misery she felt unmoving and forever. Despite what could be assumed about his body beneath those oversized sweaters, old and worn year-round, he is strong. While she kicked, crying, and distraught, he had lifted her into his arms and taken her. One arm under her legs and the other braced against her back. Not so much as a blink, not a frown, or scowl of pain. He had simply looked to Haley, waiting for her to direct him. Slowly, shocked by both of them, Haley had opened the car door and allowed Aaron to place Jessica in.

She’d never forget that night. The way he’d crouched on the floor in front of her bed and wiped her make-up away while Haley held her. His eyes, she discovered, were not unseeing. Darkened with his focus, she could see every thought cross through his mind. The kind, gentle strokes of the rag in his hand over her nose and across her lips. Loving.

“Aaron?”

He had startled as if expecting her to be past the point of cohesiveness. She knew, later, he hadn’t even known that she knew his name. What had she called him in the months since Haley brought him home? Had she ever really looked at him? Allowed herself to even think about learning to love him with even a fraction of the devotion Haley has? Now, those eyes darting between hers, he hums. As he often does.

Gently, slowly (with the same apprehension she’d watched Haley show each time she reached for him) Jessica places her clammy palm to his cheek. He stiffens beneath her fingertips but doesn’t avert his gaze or move to pull away. “Thank you,” she whispers, dragging her fingers against his cheeks. Here, she can see more than she needs to. The deep scar on his cheek and another that runs with his jaw. How each movement of the rag moves the sleeves on his shirt just enough to allow her a hint of what lies beneath. The skin of his wrist raised. Scarred.

She looks back at his face. Haley and Aaron may only be slightly younger than her but they seem like babies here. Now. “I’ll still kill you if you hurt my baby sister,” she whispers, closing her eyes with a smile. She hears his soft puffing laughter as if a hand in his chest squeezes his lungs tightly to stop any real noise. And she realizes she’s never heard him laugh. Real, deep, unhinged. Haley squeezes her stomach and she’s pulled back to them.

When Haley is sixteen and Aaron seventeen (Jessica nineteen and struggling through the second and last year of college), his father dies. Mopping up her tears with a coffee-stained napkin, Jessica’s attention had quickly been turned upside down. How could she waste her worries on Sociology when all she can see is Aaron's skinny little wrists and the scars on his face. The bruises up and down his back. Skeletal, sweet Aaron. She returns home as quickly as she can. Though she out-right refuses it the first time, her best friend gives her money for the bus fare. Her father could not spare her the money. She’s only in college because of a scholarship, they just have the money to spare. No matter how many times Haley called, voice thick with tears, and promising things were okay there at home could Jessica stand to believe her. So she took the money.

She arrived back to their silent quaint town on Tuesday to find Aaron had been in the hospital since Saturday. Refusing to eat or move. Restrained like an animal. She might have thrown a fit. Maybe she should have. The nurses stand at the doors of the intensive care unit and inform her that the floor has strict rules. That Haley can not come back. They don’t allow minors onto the floor but had they not broken that very rule allowing Aaron in? So, why not let the rules slip one more time? For Haley, for Aaron, unless they really want to watch that boy die. Is that what they want? And still, they declined her. Sensing the end of the nurse’s patience Jessica had pulled herself together and succumbed. Fine, yes, she’ll go back. Just her.

And there he is. Sweet Aaron. With those eyes and the bruises. The hospital gown leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s nineteen and he’s seventeen. Children. Too young for the pain of life and the coil of death. It isn’t until this moment that she realizes she loves him. There had been a time when she thought it was even crazy that she might love Haley. So, she’d been startled and hesitant with the idea of being inclined to love Haley’s future spouse. And it would not matter if Haley and Aaron broke-up today, she would still love him. As she suspects Haley would too. Because Aaron is a fighter and there’s something about him that just draws you in. Perhaps it’s the surprise he exhibits when you’re kind to him. Taken aback by gentleness and love. Never understanding how you might have come to love his thoughtfulness. Him.

“What are you doing?” The room is silent. There is no need for a heart monitor, just the IV fluids snaking into the back of his hand. Her father had told her about the doctor’s threatening an NG tube which, at seventeen, he doesn’t have the legal authority to deny. So, if this tirade of his goes on he’ll have to suffer through the procedure. But she knows not to waste her time on a speech about his actions and their consequences. Aaron isn’t stupid.

The moons of distress under his dark eyes look daunting on his handsome face. He’d grown into his body while she was away and it had made her proud to see. Her mother’s apple pies had done wonders for him. Having a steady place to come home to, even if it’s the couch in their living room, had transformed him. Now, he takes a moment to understand her. All the weight he’d put on melted right back off. “I’m tired,” he answers. It requires a breath that pulls his shoulders to his ears. His thin, pale lips parting.

She wants to scream at him. Of course, you’re tired! When was the last time you ate? The last night you slept through? But she looks back at those eyes, little mirrors filled with tears, and she leans down and kisses his forehead. It requires no thought, no hesitation to pull him to her. To wrap her arms around him. He pushes his head against her chest, face pressed into her sweater. “I’m sorry,” he whispers thickly. And with her eyes closed, she apologies too. For not coming back sooner. For not being here when they needed her.

“I know,” she answers, running her fingers through the back of his hair. He sleeps and she stays right there. He wakes a few times. Mouth too dry to speak but those dark eyes are always seeing. Always taking in every bit of information he can. She doesn’t leave. Sometimes she’s reading from textbooks. Stalking around the end of his bed with a phone in her hand, angrily speaking to whoever it is on the other end of the line. He looks up and finds her sleeping a lot. Her long legs pulled onto the chair with her and he wished he could move. Find the strength to wake her and move her to the bed.

His mother never comes. Sean calls but it’s bitter and Jessica can see how upset Aaron is getting so she hastens it’s end. Those calls stop coming when Jessica can properly defend that they only make him worse. Proof that getting better isn’t linear even though she wishes for it to be. She just wants Monday when he eats a snack and laughs at her silly joke for Wednesday to come and him still to be light. Not wrapped like a tight coil, arms around his stomach and crying in pain. But health isn’t linear and Aaron has never done anything the easy way.

Three months. For three months after his father’s death, Aaron sits in that hospital. He spends a month in the ICU and two more in general. Seeing Haley both helps and impedes. Jessica finds herself parenting the both of them. Leading Haley to show her when Aaron needs them to step in versus when it’s just best to leave him to his own devices. Because it looks cruel but he needs the silence. Slowly, he finds his feet once again but he’s fallen behind in school and if he wants to graduate on time he’ll have to spend all summer making it up.

But that wasn’t the problem with Virginia summer’s.

“Aren’t you hot?”

Wearing his signature long sleeve, Aaron goes without comment to help Roy dig the ponds up. He hasn’t spoken since being released but he didn’t speak too much before. It’s hardly noticeable to anyone but Jessica and Haley but they both have their own problems to attend to. Jessica is once again taking their heat with her larger news: she’s dropping out of college. So, Aaron’s silence has taken the back burner.

Looking down at his clothed arms, Aaron shakes his head. Continues digging.

Jessica looks up from the porch, waiting for the moment she needs to step in. Legs outstretched on the wooden swing, Jessica looks at the words on her book but takes nothing in. She’s pretending to read. Her father pushes Aaron some more. Offering a tank top or even just a white t-shirt.

“It’s too hot for all that nonsense,” Roy comments, motioning to Aaron’s worn sweater.

Before Aaron can even start doing his rapid, panicked blinking Jessica clears her throat from the porch. “Stop patronizing him, dad.”

Roy huffs but lays off.

For that exact moment, she’s the hero but she’s just a coward. Too afraid to allow the conversation on. Perhaps she should have let her father push him a little more. Make Aaron realize what he’s doing to himself. What he’s doing to all of them. Things aren’t what they used to be. He’s not alone. Can’t he see that?

No. He can’t see that. What he sees is a family he’s not a part of. Painfully reminded around every twist and turn just how alone he is. On Christmas the traditions of theirs that he stumbles over. He’s never decorated a Christmas tree or baked an apple pie. Haley does it without blinking, smiling to encourage him along but he just doesn’t know.

They change. He graduates on time and a year later she does too. With Jessica right there, always encouraging, and positive they both go to college. Haley falls for the science of psychology and Aaron falls head over heels for political science.  

For four years its as if that boy never existed. He gets a second wind. A new chance.

But the damage is there and habits are so hard to beat.

Haley comes home early from class. Tuesdays usually mean her days don’t end until nearly seven at night. She’s got study hall and a sophomore that she tutors in Chemistry. Today, the kid had canceled their appointment, and the snow forced her home. Coming in, she’d been excited to find his coat already on the rack. Eagerly she’d torn through their tiny apartment to find him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, despite that being his favorite room in the house. He seems to always be making something, perpetually hungry. The living room had his things, briefcase open, and papers a mess. He can’t seem to think in clean rooms, always has to dirty them up. Their room was barren, not even his half of the bed disturbed. Leaving the bathroom.

Knocking against the solid door, she eases the doorknob open when he doesn’t call out. “Aaron?” Something deep had ached in her chest when she saw the living room. The papers wrong or maybe his shoes discarded almost looking tripped over? Desperate. The apartment felt desolate, cold. Stepping in her breath catches in a gasp, “Aaron!” Sinking to her knees beside the tub, she pulls him up. Moving his face from where he’s so dangerously allowed it to sink into the warmth of the water. Clutched in his hand, submerged beneath the water, a single bottle of Advil.

He’d bought it only two weeks ago. She’d been there, right beside him. Budgeting has been hard and she could see the apprehension in his face when they’d stopped near the aisle. She had mistaken it for fear that they didn’t have the money to waste on something like Advil and now she can’t help but wonder if he’d wondered something else. Would Advil be painless? How fast would it be? But she’d taken his hand and squeezed it, reassuring him a bottle of Advil would be okay. He was getting headaches, bad ones. She assumed he was just too worried to admit he needed them. She hadn’t thought he was suicidal but when has she ever been able to hear the thoughts racing through his mind?

“Aaron,” she runs her knuckles across his sternum. No. No, she hadn’t thought he was suicidal but had she ever really thought he was okay? Don’t be stupid, she’d think, as she sat in the library late at night. Reading books, consuming every bit of knowledge she could obtain without ever admitting to herself that maybe, just maybe the man she’s loved since she was fifteen might be suicidal. Not Aaron who lights up rooms and loves picnics and, on more than one occasion, has woken up to climb onto the roof and watch the sunrise. But maybe he’s not in love with life enough to want to stay here. “Aaron,” she calls, her clothes as soaked as his. “Wake up, baby.”

His pulse is slow against her fingers but there. She calls 911, sobbing. Choking around the weight of his name on her tongue. Will they let her back this time? To hold his hand? He gets nightmares. He won’t like being alone. “He’s--He’s twenty-two,” she rasps, brushing his hair from his eyes. “This is his first year of law school.” And he’s so fucking smart. She needs them to know that. He’s kind. Always remembers her favorite foods and makes her laugh. He’s just a kid. They’re just kids and he’s the only person she’s ever loved. So, they have to help. Please, God, just help.

At the hospital, they give him so much medicine that she can’t even think straight. The whites of his eyes all she can see as a nurse guides Haley through what they’re doing. “It’s a seizure,” the nurse says, unwavering as she watches Aaron’s body jerk and shake. Everyone works around him but no one touches him. Simply moves things away from where he might hit them. “Tell me about him.” She puts herself between Haley and Aaron, averting Haley’s gaze so she doesn’t have to watch the staff move him. Hurt him.

Haley struggles to come up with a thing. “When we were seventeen he--he stopped eating,” Haley manages. Maybe, that will help? “He was hospitalized. He almost died.” Suddenly, all Haley wants is Jessica. Her sister to pull them out of this mess like she always does. Protecting them.

The nurse shakes her head. “No,” she clarifies. “No, tell me about him.”

About Aaron. “He loves blueberry pancakes,” she chokes, an inappropriate laugh forcing its way up. “Really loves them.” She smiles and the nurse nods, smiling too. It’s easier to think of him like this. The boy who used to climb up a tree outside her dorm to wave at her from her window. “He will make himself sick eating them.” His childhood had been so bleak, so bland. He’d known only oatmeal as a breakfast food. The first time her mother made them, he’d eaten so many he had been sick and she’d sat right by his side rubbing his back. “Still,” she adds with a shake of her head. “To this day, twenty years old and he still makes himself sick eating blueberry pancakes. Like--” she starts to cry. “Like he’s afraid you’ll take them away.”

Standing in that emergency room, Haley wonders how much of what she knows about Aaron is true.

“Has he tried to do this before?”

He wants to be a lawyer. A better man than his father putting away the bad guys and fixing the system. He’ll never graduate. No one wants a suicidal lawyer. She’s torn between morals. He’s spent the last few years fighting for this and this one silly mistake could unravel it all. Just a silly mistake. “No,” she chokes. “No, he’s not-- he’s not suicidal. He gets migraines.” She looks up from the tiled floor. “He had a migraine. That’s all. He forgot how many he took and I wasn’t there. I should have been there. He was just confused. I told him to take a bath. Really, he was just confused. That’s all.” Haley had never been good at lying.

They leave her, after that, perhaps having realized they won’t get anything from her. The truth will not come from her, not today. She ignores the tired look they give her when she asks for a note to give Aaron’s professors. So that she can get his work or maybe just make sure he’s not being too penalized. And again, as the doctor signs, he asks if Aaron’s ever done anything like this. “This--this accident.” And she knows exactly what he’s doing. Trying to guide her to the right answer. Her answer is solid. No. Never. And she leaves him to go sit with Aaron.

The nurses come in and out. Looking but never saying. They move over his body and he lets them so long as she is there. Within reach and she always is. She finds magazines and books and spends too much of her time convincing herself that if he’d meant it, she would have noticed. That everyone else is wrong. If the signs are there then it’s not that hard to notice! Fuck this cognitivie dissonance. She’s smart. She would see.

Right?

He’s just smoking more because he’s stressed out.

Normal college students struggle to balance a sleep schedule.

Aaron is always withdrawn.

He’s moody because he’s not sleeping.

These signs aren’t meant for him. They mean nothing. And she repeats it again and again until she starts to believe it. The signs don’t mean anything.

Now, she stands with her back to Aaron. Her arms crossed on her chest, finding the courage to dare them to question her. What lie will she conjure for the fresh cuts on his arm? Not even healed. Probably done last night in the bathroom with the kit he taped to the bottom of the sink. With the razors she pretends not to see wrapped in toilet paper. But she’s afraid to say something. They’ve been together for half a decade and he’s only just now started sleeping without a shirt. Only just allowed her to see his body. The cuts and the scars both from his own hand and his father’s.

But they don’t say anything. Perhaps it’s too taboo but no one says anything.

The signs mean nothing. He smokes because he always has. He’s withdrawn because he always has been. Aaron is and always has been these signs. So, he’s fine.

He’s fine.

They get married at the end of the next semester. He’s had months to recover but the body isn’t so quick to forgive. His voice is rough from where they had to intubate him for so long but the therapist all assure them that with time his voice will lose its rasp and he’ll sound like himself again. His classmates poke at him for his “time-off” and he’d prefer they think him a spoiled brat off partying than what he really is. A disaster. One misstep away from trying again.

He never voices this. He doesn’t tell the therapists or Haley.

“I want to apply to the academy.”

Marriage is not even marginally the hardest thing he’s been forced to understand. He knows what he’s doing when he makes Haley his sole beneficiary-- asides from his textbooks which he wants to go to Jessica because she’s still bitter he “wasted” himself with the bitterness of law. But marriage is easy. Giving himself is second nature. He never thinks about the little things she clings to. How he always remembers to put the seat down and cooks dinner or washes the dishes. He’s not normal.

But this sudden change of pace takes her by surprise. “The-- The academy?” At first, she thinks of films and actors and actresses. That sort of academy but bitterly, sickly she remembers how close they are to Quantico. About David Rossi & Jason Gideon, who he met two weeks ago and hasn’t stopped talking about since. There’s a flush to his face, excitement she hasn’t seen in the longest time. And she wants to say yes but she can’t be certain this isn’t some new method he’s found to hurt himself.

He nods, shoveling corn and green beans into his mouth. Happy, she realizes. He’s happy.

“It’ll be in the fall so I’d have a few more months left with the District Attorney.”

No. She wants to say no so badly. The last thing they need is a gun. As if she doesn’t already check the knives over, counting and recounting the razors he uses to shave. Convinced he’ll try again. But she can’t say no because she doesn’t have a good reason. They’re financially stable. She’s working at a school only down the street and joining the academy won’t be taxing. It’ll be a bit of a money cut but he’s not making bank with the DA anyhow. He’s too smart to fail the courses but, as twisted as she knows it is, she thinks he’ll get hung up. He’ll need a physical and have to pass psych evaluations. There’s no way they let him through. 

“Okay,” she decides, returning back to dinner. It kills her to see him smirk and celebrate while she sits certain that they won’t allow him in. There she plans what she will do to protect him of the recoil. Of what will, undoubtedly, occur. A safety net that he can fall into.

But the call comes and the cake she’d been making-- vanilla with rainbow sprinkles and blueberry pancakes cooling by it’s side-- to console him turns into a celebratory one. He’s done it. Training and evals, passed. Made records won awards. She’s got herself one hell of a federal agent.

Jessica comes down, smiling and with a bag in hand. She hates this development nearly as much as Haley but is much better at hiding it. “Look at you,” Jessica mumbles in amazement. She turns him over, fingers finding his hardened muscles through the sleeves of his sweater. Looking for something, anything to clue her in one what’s happening behind his dark eyes but all she sees is happiness and she can’t help but wonder how long that will last. “You were nothing but a scrawny kid and they’ve turned you into a man and a half.”

There it is, that half-strangled puff of laughter. He smiles, dimples, and chin, and whole face. A man, she is reminded, not that fifteen-year-old prone to drinking in the woods and getting knocked down in the halls. He quit smoking that month and Haley did too. For once, he started taking care of himself. Not as if he never had before but suddenly there were just things he did that he had never before.

He stopped cutting. Which had been harder than losing the cigarettes. She only noticed in passing and could never really pride him on the achievement. Never draw attention to it. But she’d see the scabs healing when he wrapped an arm around her bare hips. Eventually, there were no scabs. Only scars.

“I love you,” she reminds him because she’s not sure if this will last.

And his eyes always twinkle just a little when she says it. Pleasantly surprised each time. “I love you too.”

He gets posted in Seattle and as they’re preparing for the move she watches him closely. As it turns out, she’s the one afraid not him. The world seems to open up, right then, for him and selfishly she thinks about everything she’s just left behind. No, she realizes. It’s not selfish. She worries about him, he worries about her. She’s worried about herself and he worries about himself. It’s a balance and no good things come without a little give.

Seattles is okay.

She tutors a young boy with epilepsy that has fallen behind do to a spout of recent hospitalization. He reminds her so feverishly of Aaron that she naturally takes to him. His name is Sam and his hair is blonde and his eyes the same soft brown as Aaron’s. He’s smart and funny one day and sad and silent the next. The last decade she’s spent living at Aaron’s side has made her ambidextrous to this behaviour and she doesn’t blink.

Aaron spends his days folded into case files, not all that different from when they were in Virginia but he’s lighter. They both are. He doesn’t seem even bothered by the rain. Smiling each time he comes in soaked to the bone to chase her around, shaking the rain from his hair onto her.

One night, she rolls over and attaches herself to his back. She’s antsy and he’s an insomniac so she’s not too surprised when he tangles his fingers with hers over his stomach and hums to answer the question she hasn’t asked yet.  Breath ghosting over the back of his neck, she asks, “Do you still want to have kids?”

He chuckles, turning slightly so she can see the silhouette of his nose and lips as he answers her. “Mmm, ten.” Slowly, moving her legs and twisting, he faces her. So that his forehead is against hers and kisses her. “Wanna make one?” he asks teasingly, fingers skimming the skin peaking out from under her shirt. “I hear it’s pretty easy.”

She hits him but deepens the kiss, allowing her hand to slide over his hips and squeeze his butt. It makes her laugh and he just shakes his head. “I want to talk about kids,” she reminds him, breathlessly as his hand snakes up underneath her shirt to cup her bare breast. “Not ten,” she whispers, pulling his head closer as he kisses her neck. “One or two. At least one boy.” He hums and she doesn’t even need to consider if he’s listening or not because he always is. “We could adopt.”

He smiles, placing a hand on both sides of her head, completely overtop her now. She whines a little as he sits up, extracting his body from the tangle of hers. “We could foster even more,” he offers, because he’s thought about it. “Have a few, adopt a few, and be one of those sweet old couples that fosters every kid they can find.”

She squints her eyes at him reaching up and bopping his nose. “You have a savior complex,” she whispers. Which they both know isn’t true. He’s a helper, a watcher. What else would you have him do? He’s never been one to sit by. But she thinks about it. Long after that night and later that night. When she rolled over and he’d fallen asleep in a massive tangle like he always does. This man doesn’t know how to exist without creating a mess. His desk is never neat and he can’t sleep without one half of his body stuck in the sheets.

She considers having a child exactly like him. With his exact brown eyes and those dimples. Adopting one that slowly becomes a part of them. Learning there little habits. A child with hair to dark to be Aarons but too light to be hers that like dancing around the kitchen with her and has that soft, strong way of speaking that Aaron does. Kids. With him.

They aren’t compatible.

She knows she shouldn’t have pushed when the scabs come back. It’s not bad, well… The cuts are small and low in number but she knows they’re there long before she sees them. He starts to sleep in long sleeves again. She sees them when he’s in the shower. Three or four on each arm and he’s been wearing the shirts for a month so it’s not that bad. He’s certain done worse. He’s just got a lot of pressure on him at the moment.

She lets it go.

“I haven’t had my period in a while,” she says over dinner. She told herself to wait for those cuts to heal but they never do.

He chokes on his food. He hasn’t been eating a lot and she thinks he might be smoking again. Which she would point out but she might just be paranoid. Sam got sick last week, had a seizure that she had seen, and she’s a little ashamed to admit she picked it back up to soothe herself. Unsure and unable to tell Aaron about it. How could she? It had nearly scared her from the topic of children, what would it do to him.

“How--” his voice cuts off. He doesn’t mean “how”. He knows exactly how. They talked about children and have been careless. Two scared people hoping that if they pretend to not want this with every burning fiber of their beings they might get it. He can’t remember the last time he used a condom and her birthcontrol has suddenly disappeared from the bathroom sink.

“How long?”

She puts her fork down. “Three months.” They’ve been trying twice that long. “I have a test,” she tells him, trying to hide her excitement. His eyes meet hers and she reads him like her favorite book. “I could take it.” Their lonely kitchen is filled with the sound of scraping chair the two of them fumbling to move.

“Oh.”

It’s negative.

Aaron’s mouth is dry, he doesn’t know why he’s so disappointed.

“We can keep trying,” she soothes, trying not to shake or cry. Even though she wants to throw that stupid test against the wall. Tears fall down her cheek and she looks up to see his own gather.

He shakes his head.

Jessica comes down the next week and pretends not to notice the return of the long sleeves. Aaron greets her with a smile and kisses her cheek. Telling her about everything but that test. The hope so swiftly taken from them. She takes Haley to a clinic. They count her eggs and smile, assuring her that she’s young, healthy, and her eggs are in fantastic shape. She should consider herself lucky, it should be easy for her to have children.

Easy.

Clearly, they have never met her husband.

His sperm count is low. Enough that the doctor’s face falls a little as he explains their options. It’s still possible to do this on their own but they shouldn’t be ashamed if things need a little help.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

But he is ashamed and he counts out each offense on his skin.

Sam, the boy she tutored, dies shortly after they learn all of this. His little body just couldn’t take all the stress.

Haley feels selfish but she’s glad she was no where near him when it happened.

A week later, Aaron comes home, hangs his coat on the rack and sits down on the edge of the couch. “I saw David Rossi today.” His eyes are haunted by the dark circles under them. She notices them but the people in his office never seem to. They comment his quick work and sharp mind which is why Dave had been so quick to accept him. Aaron’s curiosity has always been the brightest burning part of him. “He wants me to move back to Virginia. Take some profiling courses. Join his team.”

Aaron has read everything about the Behavioral Science Unit he can get his hands on. So, by extension, she also knows a lot about them. Every time he finds something worth excitement he finds her to recount each detail. He wants this, she knows.

She’s making muffins, trying to keep her mind off of Sam. When he tells her this, what David Rossi wants from her husband she’s furious. Fuck that man. What do they care about him? They have a life here. But… they really don’t. The lease on their apartment is ending and she keeps trying to decide if she really wants to renew it. Sam is dead. Aaron has a job opportunity.

“Do you want to move back to Virginia?” she turns, to him. Pressing her hips across the oven and watching him.

He looks down at the floor. Does he? He hadn’t really considered that. Does he want to work with David Rossi? Yes, very much so. So, he nods. “I want this,” he says.

She brushes the wet dough on her hands off on the apron on her chest and moves across the kitchen to him. Placing a hand on both sides of his face, she kisses him. “Okay,” she whispers. “Then lets go.”

David immediately loves him.

I work too slowly. 

I get too attached. 

I’m only good with victims. 

I am not a good profiler.

But David sees that spark. The yearning for more, fire hissing and popping and Dave is eager to throw gasoline on him. To see him rise and consume them all. “You’re a bright kid,” Dave commends, one afternoon. They’re having dinner on the way home. Dave has no girlfriend or wife to call so he’s very content to get a little tipsy and let Aaron drive him home. Aaron is wondering what Haley’s doing, Dave thinks this is adorable. 

“Um,” Aaron can feel a deflection on his tongue but Dave covers his hand with his own.

With far too much seriousness for a tipsy man he says, “alright. You’re next lesson is acceptance, alright? I give you a compliment and you say--” Aaron just stares back at him. “You say thank you, Dave.”

He nods his head. 

Dave blinks. This goddamn kid, he swears. But he’s so enchanting, charming in his youth. Bashful but always looking, watching. Dave wants nothing more than to see him smile even more. To see him grow steady and assured in his abilities. And that it almost taken from him. A sniper in some case that feels more like a movie, something that happens to someone you’re only lightly attached to. That you gasp at but forget about in a day or two. The blood that just sprays, thick and heavy and hot. Dave’s never lost an agent. 

He’s lost men but that was war. This isn’t war. It’s just profiling. His people aren’t supposed to die and the kid-- fucking Aaron, his Aaron, almost died. 

“You must be David.”

Dave is sleeping in the room when she comes. A thin little thing with straw blonde hair and a very scorned looking face. Aaron has gone on and on about her. She’s beautiful and he can see, immediately, why Aaron’s so drawn to her. As stupid as it is, he smiles when he sees her. So tiny and yet drawn up like she’s ready for a fight. 

“That must make you Haley.”

She hums, a habit he finds cute. Humming fits Aaron well. He’s a silent man but not Haley. Aaron had told him they had been together since they were kids, high school sweet hearts. It must be a bit of Aaron’s spite she has drawn up as she walks through the room to stand at her husband’s side. Stoic. 

The worst is yet to come. 

The shot had been surprisingly clean. Aaron would need a sling and to keep his arm delicately strapped to his chest to allow his shattered clavicle to repair. He wakes two hours later, to the soft hum of Haley and Dave whispering over him. He’s not coherent and he’s in pain and falls right back to sleep the moment Haley takes his hand. A softly sighed “oh” on his lips as his eyes shut and he’s gone again. 

Dave doesn’t say anything about the scars. He knows about them. (Do you really think they’d let anybody into the FBI without making notes in files, annotations for men like David Rossi to read and re-read a dozen times as they consider allowing men like Aaron Hotchner onto their teams?) 

“Haley?” The second time he’s distraught. Panicking. He remembers the warmth of his bath, the Advil bottle in his palm. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, just as he had when he woke the first time, all those years ago. “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” He remembers thinking how uncomfortable he was in the tub. How he wished he had a pillow or was shorter so at least his knees could sink in. That he could see his clothes plastered to his skin. 

He mistakes her momentary confusion as disbelief and he grows agitated. Gasping in pain but twisting and pleading. “I-- I--,” his sentence is cut off by his strangled cry. He moves his hips the wrong way and his shoulder is pressed down into the mattress.

It breaks her heart just as much this time as it had last time. To see his face pinched in pain and confusion. But she is shocked in place. 

Dave stands, grabbing Aaron’s unrestrained hand. His hand wrapping completely around until his finger rest against the inside of Aaron’s wrist. His hand engulfing Aaron’s. The scars moving under his touch. “You’re okay,” Dave assures him softly. He smiles, priding Aaron when he manages to whisper Dave’s name in soft shock. He pats Aaron’s cheek, “there he is. My bright boy. How are you? You okay?”

His sense come back to him. The memories slipping into place. “Hurts,” he rasps. Gradually, his body calms and he stops kicking out against nothing. “My arm hurts,” he whispers, his eyes full of tears as he looks between them. Trusting one of them will stop it. One of them will help. 

Haley leans down and presses a kiss to his temple, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You’re okay sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. He hums, turning into her touch. She never calls him sweetheart. 

She wipes his tears away and Dave says nothing. At that moment, she doesn’t know him to well but eventually, she’ll learn that his silence in that moment was new. Dave never shuts up. She’ll crave that silence in his company. But he’d been thinking, watching and she’d been preoccupied. He was taking in what he was seeing to stored for a later date. Though he had thought for theory not practice. How wrong he, in fact, was. 

He retires a year later. Aaron and Haley are just getting the courage to try again for a kid. 

When he returns he’s thoroughly surprised to find things haven’t entirely changed. The bits that have changed are encouraging. 

“How much do you know?” Morgan asks him one night, a little too tipsy to be having this conversation. But he’s been sitting on it for months and he’s got to know. It’s his job to protect the team and while he and Aaron always seem to butt heads, he won’t leave him out of that equation. “About… About Hotch.”

Not Aaron, anymore. He’s a whole new person. The Unit Chief, strong stoic and up until that moment Dave had even thought hidden. His little secret tucked beneath those multi-layered suits. Evidently not if Morgan knows. “Should we be discussing this?” he asks. It’s an answer within itself. If he knows they shouldn’t be discussing it then he knows about it. 

Morgan understand this. He pops a handful of nuts in his mouth, chewing them thoughtfully. “He’s important to us,” Morgan says after a long while. 

Dave nods. “He’s important to me too.”

Neither fully explains where they stand. How much any given member of the team knows. 

Spencer Reid isn’t stupid and even if he were, he’s not oblivious. He’s never seen the scars on the inside of his superior’s wrist. Never seen any of the scars for that matter. There’s still something about Hotch, nameless and without a good proper name, that Spencer cues in on. Self-destructive with control issues. They never talk about it. It’s safer that way. 

It hurts Penelope to think about for too long. She’s seen the scars but she’d known what to look for and she’d looked. Even though she knew what she would find and knew it would hurt. Though she was never made to be the silent observing type, she doesn’t mention them. But sometimes she places little goodies in his go bag so that when he finds them he’s forced to be reminded that he’s loved. 

JJ knows the signs now. She was too slow the first time. Now she wears that burden around her neck each day. There’s something so raw about Aaron Hotchner but she doesn’t think he’s suicidal, not anymore at least. Maybe in another life, at a different time. Today, tomorrow, yesterday… he’s okay. But she’ll keep vigil. She watches. 

Though Emily hates his guts when she first arrived, she’s found herself close to his side over the course of the last few months. Enough to know more about him than the others. Maybe not because he tells her but because she’s simply there and it’s hard to hide things once you allow someone else that close. 

The divorce doesn’t come by too big of a surprise. 

Neither does Haley’s reaction.

“I need to ask you to do something for me,” Haley whispers. 

JJ is rocking Henry when Will comes in with the phone and she’s honestly surprised it’s taken Haley this long to get around to her. “Haley,” she responds, wondering if Haley is out there someplace rocking Jack. “You know you don’t have to ask.” JJ and Haley had gotten along great when JJ first joined. JJ was the only girl on the team and Haley knows how Hotch can be. 

“He doesn’t mean it, honest.” Haley had defended. Referencing Hotch’s more elusive if not silent nature. 

JJ had brushed it off, “oh no. He’s a sweetheart.” And was and still is. He very well was probably the only person who didn’t give her a hard time. 

“I know Aaron isn’t taking… all of this well.” That is an understatement. He’s not doing anything drastic but starving away in his office running on caffeine and random sandwiches one of them forces him to eat isn’t thriving. “Can you just look after him? I would-- you know I would but we can’t do this--this balance if I am always there to catch him. That doesn’t change anything.”

JJ closes her eyes, leaning her face down to Henry. Allowing the soft scent of baby and lotion to soothe the anger and pain she feels swelling up. “You know I will,” she promises. “He’ll be okay, Haley. We’ll get him through this.” The call ends shortly after that. Haley asks about Henry and JJ about Jack. And the two part. It’s better that way. 

The divorce is the easy part. 

Foyet attacks and nine new scars find their way on his body and suddenly they all know that those aren’t the ones they need to worry about. 

“Emily, Em--Emily.” She’s sleeping in his guest room, curled under the warm sheets. A cat, he thinks dizzily, as she stretches and hums sleepy at him. Arching her back and stretching her back and arms out like he’s seen plenty of street cats do. The kind that aren’t bothered when you come marching through their alley. 

She winces at the light but finds him. The apprehension on his pained face and the dark, wet rag he’s holding with his left hand over his right. 

“I-- There was-- It was an accident,” he stumbles.

The wet rag she realizes is soaked in his blood. Crimson. She wakes quickly, suddenly cold. Throwing the blankets off her legs. He just stands in the doorway, leaning heavily to the side. “What did you do?” she demands, afraid to look and see. Afraid to see. She covers his hand with hers, pressing against the wound. Her mind turns this over slowly. His blood dropping in fat drops by their feet. “You have to go to the hospital.”

His eyes flash with something but she knows it’s not remorse for what he’s done. “It was on accident,” he rasps. “I’m sorry.”

She knows. “To the hospital,” she instructs, guiding him through the dark hall. He’s dazed, clearly confused. It takes her a moment to wrap his coat around his shoulder. “Hold it,” she mumbles, wrapping his fingers back around his wrist. Then she’s shoving her own feet into shoes not thinking twice about the fact that they’re both in pajamas and she in shorts. “Aaron,” she stands back up and he’s loosened his hold. The way she says his name shocks him. “Put fucking pressure on it.” 

She steers him to the car, guiding him by his hips. By the time she moves to the driver’s seat he’s pressed his head to the door’s cold window, turned a nasty grey color. “Aaron,” she shakes him roughly. Paying no mind to the wounds on his chest that haven’t healed. “Stay awake.” She’s not going to loose him like this. She hits him several more times, it’s one jarring him back to life. She knows she’s hit a few bruises and not healed places on his body but he’s slipping and he’s not going to die in her passenger seat. 

“You’re a goddamn idiot.” she seethes. They’re outside the emergency room. She’s pulling his thin grasshopper like legs out of the car, grunting when the rest of him comes with them. His head finds her shoulder and she stops, holding him there for just a second as they both collect themselves. “Are you okay?” she asks softly. The first truly kind thing she’s had to say all night. He nods. “Okay,” she pats his back. “Come on, jackass, we’ve got plenty more fighting to do.” 

They won’t let her back with him which she almost hopes causes a scene. But Hotch goes listlessly into the wheelchair and silently allows them to take him away. He doesn’t fight. Which is worse than if he’d begged them to let her come. But he goes, his bloody rag in his lap. Head tilted resting against his chest. 

She calls Morgan first. He tells her not to call anyone else. It’s two in the morning and they need the sleep. He’ll be there in twenty minutes. He’s there in ten and when he sees her sitting there he doesn’t say a word, just wraps his coat around her bare arms. They sit, shoulder-to-shoulder, neither saying anything for a long time. 

Eventually, he can’t stand the silence. “Did he do it on purpose?” Morgan asks. 

She shrugs. She doesn’t know. “He said he was sorry.” The raspy quality of her own voice surprises her. Looking down at her hands, she scratches at her nails. Frowning at the blood she pulls up. They all do things they shouldn’t. He just… It wasn’t on purpose. It wouldn’t… He wouldn’t…

“Emily Prentiss?”

She looks up, surprised to find a nurse standing there. How long have they been sitting here? Not saying a thing. Just thinking. Assuming the worst. “Yes?” She stands, suddenly too aware of how silly she must look. Her night shirt covered in blood and in shorts that show all of her legs and-- only after looking down-- does she realize she’s wearing a pair of Hotch’s shoes. 

“Mr. Hotchner is very dehydrated. We’re going to keep him here for the night. You can come back, if you’d like. He asked for you.” 

She glances back at Morgan and then at the nurse. “I want to but,” she motions to Morgan, “can we both go?” She can see the hesitation wash over the nurse. “You can ask Hotch-- Agent Hotchner. His name is Derek, Hotch won’t mind.” 

The nurse caves with a nod and motions for them to follow her. 

He’s in a section marked off by curtain. Asleep with his heavily bandaged hand curled on his chest and the other by his side. They’ve bandaged both, the left with a few bandages versus the heavy gauze of the right. He sleeps but it’s not deep no more than the shallow naps he’s been getting lately.

Emily moves to his left side and waits for the nightmare she know will grip him. 

“He didn’t… He wasn’t trying to, was he?”

Emily rubs her thumb his knuckles. “Morgan?” If he was, would he have come to get her? Would he have covered the wound himself, first? Trying to stop the blood on his own? Morgan looks up. “You can’t talk about it. Promise me, you won’t ask him about it.” That would kill him. 

Morgan stands in the corner, arms crossed on his chest. “Will you talk to him about it?”

She doesn’t want to. “Yes.” But someone has to. 

“If he does it again--”

Emily cuts him off with a scowl. “He won’t.”

Morgan breaks a little, sadden by how vehemently she believes this. “Okay,” he caves. “Okay.” 

He does. 

[queenofthefullmoon]

An exhaustive list of Dark Souls 3 bosses I would or would not date

Iudex/Champion Gundyr

We’re starting off this list with a strong yes. Our boy Gundyr has had a hard, difficult life, and he deserves some good company. He’s tall, strong, and I trust him to protect us as we set a lovely camp site outside of the fire link shrine.

Vordt of the Boreal Valley

Vordt is big and he is feral which are truly the only two qualities I look for in a man. Together we’d be unstoppable. I mean, think about how easy it would be to go around with him: just climb on his back and let the rodeo begin, baby. This argument alone should be enough to convince you that Vordt is a suitable boyfriend, but here’s another one: if you get too hot in the summer, worry fucking not for your gigantic man can hold his equally gigantic hammer over you and cover you with snow like an italian man covering his pasta with parmesan.

Cursed Rotted Greatwood

Now while I’m certain it would be a perfect partner for some people, the Cursed Rotted Greatwood isn’t for me. For one, I am not fan of curses, or rot, or weird sticky balls, or strange orange acid, or pale white and slightly viscous hands bursting through a living tree. Secondly, I feel like the crowd of Hollows who group up around the tree would be a big impediment to our intimacy, and I’m not ready to be the mother of 20 Hollows.

Crystal Sage

No offense but you’d be an idiot for not wanting to date the Crystal Sage. All wrapped up in one package, you get a super competent sorcerer bf, who wears the coolest hat in the galaxy and an equally cool cape, and who overall looks like the upgraded version of a plague doctor. In addition to that he also has a pretty rapier so you can both engage in some sparring (which we all know is the most romantic couple activity).

Deacons of the Deep

Probably one of the worst options on the list, they’re all crusty, rotting men moaning around a biggass coffin. There are many technical questions. If I dated a deacon, would I have to date all of them? Can we go out on dates or are they obligated to stay next to the coffin at all times? Can I even date them at all?? Not that I would, because I have standards. The only pro to entering this relationship(s?) would be that I’d probably get one of their robes for free, but the cons are so numerous that I’d rather buy it myself.

Abyss Watchers

Let’s be real and honest even if it hurts. Would I date an Abyss Watcher? Yes. Maybe I’d even date two. However, would an Abyss Watcher date me? No, because they’re all in love with Artorias, and I can’t blame them for that.

Old Demon King

At first I considered dating the Old Demon King like a Russian Instagram model dates an old, rich American man: with a great deal of fake love but above all great patience in order to be the only person on the will. But then I thought about it more, and what does the Old Demon King have to offer, really? A big firework show that will leave him exhausted like the old creature he is, and maybe some pyromancies. Truly, it is not worth it, especially since I’d have to take residence where he lives, in a big old room filled with the corpses of his kin.

High Lord Wolnir

I’ve got nothing against Wolnir personally, but I have no interest in skeletons, nor in his army of skeleton children. As stated above I’m not ready to be a mother. I feel like if we got in an argument and he sighed, he would poison me with his awful breath and I would die a horrible death. Also, living on the brink of the Abyss doesn’t appeal to me that much. However I would like Wolnir to be a good friend I can talk jewelry with because let’s be honest, the man (skeleton?) is blinged the fuck out even in death and I respect that.

Yhorm the Giant

Yes, I would date Yhorm. He was nothing but a sweet, misunderstood giant who always tried to get people to trust him and he convinced me. I would put my life in his big hands. Think of the possibilities. Just like with Vordt he could carry you everywhere but in a less reckless way if you prefer proper manners. You’d never have to worry about not seeing anything at a concert. Also, may I add that waiting for you to show up while sitting on his biggass throne is an absolute power move? Yhorm is a Lord of Cinder, but above all, a Lord of this heart.

Pontiff Sulyvahn

Would I date him because of his appealing aesthetic? Yes. Would I date him for anything else? No. Sulyvahn is absolutely terrifying, completely unhinged in the most frightening way, which is that he doesn’t look bat shit crazy. I could be thinking that everything is going well in our relationship then suddenly he’d lock me in a dungeon then would feed me to his weird friend because I put a fork in the knife drawer. He could pretend to propose and give me a weird fucked up ring with his eye in it and the next thing I know I’d be running in a field on all fours. I don’t trust like that.

Aldritch, Devourer of Gods

I’m so sad about Aldritch because literally everything about him is completely unappealing, unacceptable, unnatural, unholy, abhorrent, but he has the delicate and beautiful face of Gwyndolin. While our lovely Gwyndolin looks gorgeous as ever it doesn’t make up for the fact that Aldritch devoured people and probably wouldn’t find love to be a good reason to not eat his partner. The only reason I can find to have a friendship (not even a romantic relationship) with him is if you really like experimenting with cooking and you really, really need someone to taste your inventions.

Dancer of the Boreal Valley

I feel attraction, which means that just like any other being who feels attraction, I would date the Dancer. She is beautiful, graceful, a bit feral, and would not hesitate to put a flaming knife to my throat, which is the description of my dream woman. Imagine walking the streets with her, trying to hold her hand while it dangles 3 feet above you and she insists on holding her sword, actually, so she might slay anyone who tries to approach you, which she communicates through icy breaths and murmurs. The date of a lifetime.

Oceiros, the Consumed King

Another awful choice on this list, Oceiros is RABID and also, as far as we know, still a married man. You really want to date a man that hasn’t even gone through his divorce but already looks like this? Me neither. I’m already not big on dragon fucking but the fact that he’s all viscous and has weird growths all over him is not helping. Also, he has children, and we know how I feel about that — although, given how he treats them, he probably won’t have kids very soon (too far?).

Ancient Wyvern

So I’ve stated that I’m not very big on dragon fucking. With that said, do I think the wyvern is sexy and beautiful? Absolutely so. You’re probably like « Blue you’re sending mixed signals, are you gonna date the lizard or not? » and to that I say, date? Perhaps not. I would however like to form a lifelong bond with this wonderful force of nature and fight by its side, live a long and fulfilling life travelling along with it, only to die at the same time atop the tallest mountain in the world, where our skeletons will be discovers hundreds of years in the future by brave explorers, who will confirm that the legendary songs that were written about us were in fact not just a myth.

Nameless King

You’ve just read what I said about the wyvern. I feel like the Nameless King really understands me and would respect me for that. We could bond over our love of dragons and other flying scaly beasts and perhaps share some chaste kisses while soaring the sky on our companions. It’s nice to date someone who loves pets as much as you. I feel like he would be a fun guy to hang around in general, maybe he’d let you braid his hair or try on his crown. He can arrange personalized fireworks shows for you with his lightning powers. I don’t think you’d ever be bored around him.  

Dragonslayer Armor

Dating an empty suit of armor has never bothered me (see: ds2 Ruin Sentinels), however I have beef with the dragonslayer armor. Is it a beautiful armor? Perhaps a bit worn off, but the reply remains affirmative. However, it is controlled by Pilgrim Butterflies, which basically means I’m dating one to multiple of these things in the shape of an armor, and I’ve gotta confess that I’m not down for that.

Lorian Older Prince and Lothric Younger Prince

Here comes the delicate moment where we have to make a choice without offending anyone. I personally, speaking for myself, in my own opinion, would rather date Lorian. Reason: he is big, strong, and a bit rabid, which I’ve made very clear is my type. I don’t dislike Lothric, but I feel like we’d be better off as best friends who have a really snarky group chat where we shit talk the entire kingdom. That’s pretty good because if I even just slightly disliked Lothric I’m pretty sure Lorian would sense it and would not hesitate to murder me on sight.

Champion’s Gravetender and Champion Greatwolf

Well the full name is just a formality here, I’m not completely insane so I don’t want to date this rabid wolf. I feel like the Champion’s Gravetender is just a normal dude who’s a bit in over his head and it’s not his fault but he just seems a bit boring compared to all my other options. Instead of a date I think he’d be more of an awkward flirt I had when I was bored and then I came to my senses but didn’t know how to disengage, but in the end it worked out because he was more interested in his work anyway.

Sister Friede and Father Ariandel

Again a choice has to be made and I will have to be predictable and say I’d date Elfriede. Just like Dancer she’s what the woman of my dreams is made of. She’s graceful and could easily take my life and I think it’s awfully sexy of her to be like that. I think I’d be accepted into the family pretty easily, which is important since Father Ariandel cares about Friede so much. I’d go visit him sometimes, play chess with him, bring him his flail, normal interactions with your girlfriend’s dad.

Soul of Cinder

I’m gonna be a tiny bit freaky here and say I’d date the Soul of Cinder. Dating it is just like opening a Kinder Surprise egg, you never know what you’re gonna get (sorry Americans for excluding you here). That makes life exciting and doesn’t let routine stall your relationship. Every day you can wake up with the question « What weapon will my darling walk around with today? The flaming sword, or the sorcery staff? » and be surprised by the answer. Truly ideal, but I understand it’s not for the faint of heart.

Demon Prince

I’m gonna go with a maaaaaaybeeeee? leaning towards no. I mean yes, the Demon Prince is a weird fleshy flaming demon, and that may be a bit gross, but I’ve gotta admit I admire his style, the drama of it all. The care he puts into his entrance, the attitude in his moves. If we don’t date I’d at least want to be friends so he can teach me his ways.

Darkeater Midir

I have very intense and contradictory feelings towards Midir. In one hand, holy shit, absolutely epic dragon, the spirit of companionship is growing in me. On the other hand, this beast is RABID and pretending I could tame him is foolish, and pretentious. I guess in the end the answer remains that I don’t date dragons, I just want to adopt them as my extremely exotic pets.

Halflight, Spear of the Church

Yeah I’d date Halflight, I know it’s the easy answer but look at him. I mean shit he’s walking around like a little thotty with his shirt open and you mean to tell me I’m not supposed to wanna date him because he looks pretty much like a regular dude? My boy Halflight WANTS me to date him or else he would not show up with his tiddies out to a sword fight, which as an activity already has enough erotic implications on its own.

Slave Knight Gael

I’m gonna say it unashamedly and I’ll say it again: I would date Gael. He’s been nothing but helpful and when he tries to attack you it’s to help his little lady that he’s adopted as his niece. We love a chaotic parental figure. Maybe he’s a tad bit old and dirty but there’s nothing a good bath can’t fix and I’m sure he’d appreciate having someone taking care of him for once. Again, he’s got that slightly unhinged quality to him that makes him delightful. When I walk around with my partner I want us to instill both fear and fascination in people which we would be able to accomplish perfectly well.

Dark Souls 1: Remastered date list // Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin date list