#or maybe my own silence is too awkward and dampens the call? I was kinda just spacing out and not doing anything so I get its kinda weird

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

[beann-e]

mattsukawa cheating is my religion , now follow me blindly

You’ve had a crush on mattsukawa for a while now but, you could never bring yourself to say anything

Maybe it was the way he spoke and was so sure of everything he said , maybe it was the way he towered over you and his dopey smile would show whenever you finally got him to relax and laugh after a hard game

you weren’t sure all you knew is that at this very moment you’d rather die then not tell him how you felt after so long

It’s been clawing at you for months this feeling you could never describe.

He was interested , he had to be , it was obvious in the way he would wrap his arms around your waist, his eyes looking from your lips to your eyes in a rush and even when he would tell you how beautiful you looked regardless of your matted uniform after a hard day of school while walking you home

You took a deep breath gaining all the confidence you’d never had . footsteps quick as you made your way down to the benches

Your eyes wide as you stared down on the male sitting in front of you on the bench his face stuck on the match instead of looking at you when you walked over

“ oh hey y/—“

“ I like you “

his body froze as everyone else on the court stopped moving at your small outburst it came out louder than you wanted it to but you’d gotten it out so now you had no choice but to keep going

you simply had no choice there was no saving yourself now

“ I like how your always making jokes about anything I say , how you walk me home after a long day or even when it’s just raining“ you looked to the floor

“ y/-“

“ I love how you —you —I just I really like you mattsukawa “

you brung your head up to face him as he sat still almost frozen on the bench his body stalled like he’d never taken a breath before in his life

His head whipping to look around the gym fast as his breathing stuttered “ bab— I swear —- “ his eyes were pleading “ it’s not like that “ his face fell before his head dropped “ shit — that was my last strike too — baby please I”

you turned trying to pinpoint who he was talking to as you heard a loud cough sound throughout the gym “ y/n he um “

iwaizumis body was fast as he grabbed you directing you out of the gym trying to move you quickly as your eyebrows creased . Body falling when you heard small laughs erupt from the team

“ don’t worry about that ok —how about —maybe just go home today y/n yeah ? “

“ but I —why “

he sighed as he closed the gym doors behind him eyes darting away from your own to look anywhere but at you “ h-he’s got a girlfriend “

your heart dropped

“ he um —their laughing because we were just joking a few days ago if you knew or not “

“ what —what “

“ mattsukawa was the only one who was telling us we were wrong and that you didn’t have feelings for him and that you knew he had a girlfriend and he was just being— being nice to you “

your body shuddered

“ look y/n i’m sorry —he —he owes us yen “

“ you made a bet on if I liked him or not “

“ well I mean technically we made a bet on if he would strike out with his girlfriend — he’s cheated 2 other times that she knows of but yeah —i mean when you put it like that— we kinda sound like assholes“ he laughed

“ because you are “ you felt your voice breaking holding nothing but pure pain

“ look y/n it’s not our fault you didn’t know he had a girlfriend —i’m sorry really i am but —“ he felt uncomfortable shifting his weight from foot to foot

“ oh god he’s never gonna wanna hang out with me again “

“ uh yeah— it’ll be awkward yeah “

you turned on your heel head to the floor ignoring iwaizumis protest for you to calm down and come back

“ hey watch ou— “

pulling your head up quickly but not quick enough to see the broad chest you’d bumped into your butt hitting the ground in pain

“ ow “

“ shit “ his voice was rough “ you good ? “

you shook your head even more tears threatening to fall as you broke finally

“ uh look —person—dude—I don’t know who you are“ you heard as he clapped “ honestly don’t give a fuck but your sitting on m—“

his eyes widened in fear when he met your glazed ones tears spilling down onto your chest

The silence cooling the air and bringing even more pain to your body as you thought back to every small action you mistook as love

your fingers shaking as you wiped your cheeks your hands flying to shield your eyes shaking your head at the now wet collar of the shirt you wore

body freezing when you heard a loud sharp inhale

“ so—sorry I jus—“

he groaned as he pushed you off his leg that you’d fell on without even noticing much less seeing that he’d somehow fallen with you to the ground “ uh look —I just wanted to get to practice and —your crying and shit and “

“ like I said i’m sorry “ you stood wiping off your uniform and smiling up at the boy who stared at you anger and pure disinterest hidden in his eyes trying to hide it behind his new concern for you seeing your sad eyes matched your half made smile

“ huh guess you’d be kinda hot if you weren’t covered in dry tears with snot running down your nose “

your eyes widened before you used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose and face fixing your hair and clothes smiling softly

“ hot now ? “

he scoffed putting his hands in his pockets before nodding his head at you “ cute — what are you doing bumping into people in volleyball territory anyways crybaby ? “

you ignored his statement not in the right mindset to deal with it only laughing “ uh — funny story actually“

“ well you should do anything in your power to lift up my mood after you just assaulted me —a devoted ,caring, early , hardworking team member — so try me i’m not a very ‘ funny‘ person “

“ well — I thought I was walking out of here with a boyfriend “ you laughed face turning straight when you looked up to see him looking down at you with a confused and annoyed look on his own at your sudden pause

“ ok .. “

“ that — that was it “ you smiled “ that was the funny thing — that was the joke “

“ oh “ he shook his head in understanding “ that shit was trash please don’t waste your mothers obviously difficult birth delivery and become a comedian— you’ll bring shame to everyone that has the name y/n before you have a good show “

“ wow uh mood dampener huh “

“ no I just don’t like useless shit wasting my time “ he sighed “ look who are you here for anyways — you an oikawa stalker too “

“ no I was here for mattsu “ you scoffed “ he probably hates me —shouldn’t even call him nicknames “

“ if he hates you he’s an asshole “

he shifted on his foot trying to pay attention to you closely “ lemme guess no one told you he had a girlfriend — not even him“

he played with his backpack straps “ typically — likes to play the field anyways likes to— keep his options open I guess “

“ asshole “

“ yeah — I guess “

“ god and I really thought I loved him I thought I was gonna go in there tell him I liked him and just — walk out with a boyfrie— “

“ sorry princesa life doesn’t work like that “

“ yeah “

“ sucks though but trust me you’ll get your sweet revenge in a few seconds “

“ h-huh “

“ yeah give it a minute I know what i’m talking about“ he nodded at the volleyball doors which made you turn around to see it from his angle hoping to see something different other than just doors

“ as much as I hate everyone — they still seem to try to talk to me and incorporate me in things i don’t like and —would rather not know“

your eyebrows furrowed “ and “

“ and I’m a flat out asshole and people still talk to me — like your doing now — his girlfriend did it too “

“ why would his girlfrien— “

“ mai please — please I — it doesnt have to be like this “

the echo of the gym doors slamming open took you by surprise as you watched mattsukawa race out after a female who wore the same uniform as you

“ mai please don’t — don’t leave like this “ he laughed lightly “ baby — babe we can fix this please“

“ tell that to the other 7 girls who swear their in love with you mattsukawa—8 making the love confession I just saw “

you folded into yourself at the words the boy next to you rolling his eyes and yanking you gently into him his hand coming out to play drums on your head while you two watched the scene unfold

“ what — but I — I don’t love them I love you — I just got a bit “ he shrugged his shoulders “ a bit bored —come on it’s normal “

“ well I guess you could say the same goes for me “

“ no your — your lying you we’re hap— “

“ I was lying this is just helping me break up with you honestly — I was bored of you too—it was a matter of time before I broke it off really — I almost broke up with you at your match the other day but even I was like that’s too much pain after you’d just lost 2 sets to karasuno “

“ bab— “

“ have fun mattsu—chan it was not nice at all no kind words all bad reviews “ she waved before exiting and leaving him in visible pain

his body shaking as he turned to look down the hallway eyes heavy on yours a soft smile developing on his face “ y/n “

you jumped as you spoke “ mat-“

“ what um —what are you y’know doing out here “ he blinked between you and the other male voice growing accusing and territorial “ I thought you went home “

“ no I “

“ another love confession huh ? “ he laughed” that quick? I thought I would’ve at least had a restart —or gotten some time to say yes “

“ huh “

“ I mean you like me right “

you shook your head in a yes the male next to you scoffing speaking lowly to himself “ still“

“ so now that i’m free do—do you maybe want to uh want to hang out “

you smiled moving towards mattsukawa as the boy above you slapped your head harshly sending you flying back into his chest again

“ holy fuck mad dog chill out why are you slapping ‘em —being so rough with my admirer —fucking lunatic “

he growled at the boy across from you before speaking “ you have class don’t you — think it’s uh english right ?“

“ I mean yeah but I would like to tal— “ you shook your head “ wait how’d you know what class I have “ you shook your head even faster when you thought back to earlier “ AND HOW DID YOU KNOW MY NAME EARLIER I DIDNT TEL— “

his body going warm at his earlier slip up he was hoping you’d forgotten “ how about you get to it “

“ no I “ your eyebrows furrowed at the male you were about to get your long time crush to ask you out why would you leave “ no I— I don’t want to walk out of here empty hande— “

“ well how about you do walk out of here with one “ your eyes shot up to his in confusion ok now you had no clue what was going on and honestly just upset with the male in front of you “ huh—huh “

“ a boyfriend that was your joke right ? you wanted to walk out of here with a boyfriend and you thought you would fall in love with him and shit “

you shook your head in confusion “ I —I guess “

“ ok then your free to leave happily — baby your walking out of here with one —go on “

your heart went crazy “ excuse me “

“ your talking too fucking much — ‘ts annoying me I said “ he got rougher with his words he tried to be nice but it was obvious you weren’t one of those people who understood unless it was dumbed down for you

“ your walking out of here with a boyfriend — a good one and we both know this assholes not one so you can only guess the only other person in this hallway is your new boyfriend so shoo shoo — you little pest go to class i’ll take you home“

you felt as he grabbed your shoulders pushing you towards the doors and not turning back around until he watched you walk out

energy shifting as soon as your body was out of earshot and snapping to the taller male in front of him “I liked ‘em first dipshit“

his shoulder bumping into mattsukawas forcefully causing the boy to stumble back “ ill be damned if you fuck with em’ before I do — especially if you don’t plan on giving em’ the best “

[sweetiejunie]

Time to let the world know

Summary: You want to let everyone know who you belong to

Genre: fluff

Beomgyu x reader

Note: Originally started this as something i randomly thought of, then my playist started playing ‘they dont know about us’ by 1D while i was writing this and kinda used the lyrics as inspiration for one part. Enjoy~

=====================================

“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to turn back.”

His question made you hestitant but this has been in the planning for weeks, you couldn’t turn back now.

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest as you stepped out on the stage, hand-in-hand with the boy you loved and can finally call yours.

——————————————————————————

~A few weeks earlier~

You sat on the cold wooden floor at the back of the practice room, watching Beomgyu reflection practising their latest choreography, mesmerised.

Halfway through he noticed your staring and dedicated the rest of the dance to you. Every hip trust, every point directed at you through the mirror. You had to admit it was extrememly captivating and adorable but it also made you extrememly flustered, much to beomgyus enjoyment.

As the music came to an end you cheered for him. It was late into the evening but neither you nor beomgyu had plans of leaving any time soon. Beomgyu was an amazing dancer, but he always strived to be better and you admired him for that.

“Good job, you were great!,” you clapped, giving him a thumbs up as he made his way over to you.

You handed him his bottle and he sat down next to you. The way he was gulping down the remaining water, almost as if he had been stranded in the desert for days. The way the light reflected off his slightly dampened skin. The way-

He chuckled. “You’re staring again.” You hadn’t noticed you were till he pointed it out, quicky directing your gaze to the other end of the room.

“Did you enjoy your little personal dance?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, very much,” making sure to reply in the most sarcastic tone you could, hiding how flustered you actually were.

You both giggled and then there was silence. Not an awkward silence though, more of a comfortable, ‘simply enjoying each other’s company’ type of silence.

Suddenly your phone chimed, ruining the moment. “Sorry,” you apologised picking your phone up off of the floor to view the notification.

When you realised it was nothing important, you swiped to clear it. Similing emdearingly when your lock screen wallpaper came into view. It was a selfie you took with beomgyu hugging you from the back, in the same practice room you were currently sitting in.

“Do you remember this picture?” You asked throught your smile, not taking your eyes of the photo.

It was a bittersweet feeling. Being able to call such a wonderful boy yours but not being able to share any photos with anyone. Being able to have him to yourself but not being able to tell anyone he was yours and you were his.

“Of course i do, it was the first time you came to the practice rooms to surprise me,” beomgyu replied also smiling fondly at the memory.

“One day. One day I’ll let the whole world know you’re mine,” he let out an airy laugh, thinking about all the photos he would want to post next time. The pictures he took when you would fall asleep on his shoulder. The random mirror selfies you take together when you visited the practice room. The candid pictures he would take when you do little things that he found adorable, all of them.

“You know you cant do that,” frowning at your own statement. “Your fans would hate me.”

“Well, then they aren’t my real fans, fans would want me to be happy,” he rebutted without any hestitation, “They don���t know about how happy you make me. They don’t know about the ‘i love yous’. They don’t know I’ve waited all my life, just for a love that feels this right. If they did, i bet they’ll just be jealous.”

You could have cried at that moment, nothing has ever hit you the way beomgyus words just did. You gently cradled his face on your hands. He leaned into your touch as placed a light kiss on his lips.

“I love you, beomgyu.”

“I love you too, until forever.”

——————————————————————————

The next thing you knew is that beomgyu must have went to talk to his manager about it. You were sitting in their conference room having an official meeting with his companys publicity team, discussing a press release.

“You guys sure you want to do this? There will be a lot of backlash,” his manager stated, making sure you knew what you were getting yourself into.

You looked at beomgyu and he squeezed your hand when he noticed the worry in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole way,” he whispered, just audible enough for you to hear.

“We’re sure.”

“Alright then,” his manager continued, “we don’t want news outlets to be the first to expose you. So this is what our team has planned, at the boys upcoming concert...”

——————————————————————————

And that’s what brought you to where you were today. Ready to make it known that beomgyu was a taken man. Ready to let everyone know he was the one that stole your heart all those months ago.

Your hand were shaking, heart about to beat out of your chest as you stepped out on the stage, hand-in-hand with the boy you loved and can finally call yours.

Why were you so nervous? You didn’t have stage fright or anything like that. Maybe it was the pure possibility of being utterly rejected by beomgyus loving fans.

The audience went dead silent as soon as the camera zoomed in on the two of you, people probably as confused as you were nervous.

Beomgyu picked up the mic and held your hand tighter, “time to let the world know.”

.

.

.

=====================================

Hope you like it. Randomly thought of this before i fell asleep and thought it was cute 🥴

[a-simple-imagine]

When Worlds Collide - Chapter 1

Synopsis: Unsure of what to do, you head home for the night but while everything looks the same nothing is quite what it seems. Even the people you know are acting weird.

Based on the events of Into The spider verse only instead of ending up in Miles’ universe you end up in the MCU

Pairing: MCU!Natasha x fem!reader

Words: 2.4k+

Warning - Swearing

Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider and for a good few years now, I've been the one and only... Spider-Woman. I'm pretty sure everyone already knows the rest; saved a bunch of people, saved the city, and then I saved the city again, and again, and again, and again. Joined S.H.I.E.L.D. Nearly caused the end of the world. Ended up saving it instead with a little help. Became an official avenger. Look, I'm a comic book, a cereal, even an action figure. This job can be hard. There were moments I wanted to give up: I almost did but after everything, I still love being Spider-Man. I mean who wouldn't? So no matter how many hits I take, I always find a way to get back up. because there’s only one spider-woman. And that’s me. 

"Y/L/N. Looks like you've got some friends in very high places."

Eagerly rising to your feet, you awkwardly wave goodbye to your less than chatty cellmates. You couldn't get more than two words out of most of them. There was one guy who was more than happy to get close to you but as his hand moved on your thigh you knew his intentions were less than favourable. The officer shut the door behind you and led you into the centre of the bullpen where an all too familiar face stood. A smile breaks out onto your lips instantly.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Let's go." You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you stumble behind the billionaire. He was being surprisingly calm about the whole thing but somehow that was worse. You expected a lecture or at least a light scolding but he was silent as you walked to the car. You'd screwed up so many times but he had never had to bail you out of jail before. Maybe he was just disappointed which again is worse than him being angry. Happy stood by the black town car eagerly awaiting your arrival. He pulls open the passenger door and you're glad to see another familiar face. Tony slips in first.

"Hey Happy!" You smile as you slide onto the leather seats beside him, the door closing after you. You fumble with your seatbelt, securing it before relaxing. You fall into silence as the car drives away, worried about what Tony has to say. He seems much more interested in his phone though and happy was being about as chatty as normal. You shift awkwardly in your seat, looking at the passing world outside the window.

"So breaking and entering, huh?" Tony pipes up. You glance at him but his attention is still elsewhere

"It was a complete misunderstanding. That was my apartment-"

"Tell that to the woman whose place you broke into." He slyly interrupts. With a huff, you turn back to the window. "Do you want to tell me where you got these?"

He tosses you a clear plastic bag that held what few personal items you were carrying. You're not sure what he's talking about considering there are some keys, your phone and a pack of gum. Your brows furrow as you glance to him, he seems to be inspecting your web-shooters. He meets your curious eyes. "Got what?"

"These," He shakes them before you. He made them so you're confused why he's asking but try to think nothing of it. Your shoulders rise in a shrug.

"You wanted to implement them as part of the suit itself but I insisted on them being separate components so I could use them without."There's no clear change in his expression for you to figure out how he's feeling. Tony adjusts in his seat, leaving your web-shooters in his lap. "How did you find me? I didn't call you."

"I know everything," He shrugs. "Especially when a kid in a Spider-Man suit breaks into a random apartment."

"I didn't break in," you argue, brows furrowed.

"Then why were you arrested?"

"Because the cops are idiots," You grumble, folding your arms over your chest. This whole situation was stupid, is it really breaking and entering if it's your own apartment? If anything the woman who called the cops should have been arrested for breaking into your place. Your key wasn't working in the door and so you had resorted to picking the lock, that was pretty normal but you hadn't expected there to be someone inside. Or that she had already called the police. You tried to explain the situation but it barely made sense to you. You spent what felt like days in jail so you were grateful to Tony. It was a complete misunderstanding, I swear."

You watch him as everything goes quiet again. It's a little suspicious that Tony just showed up, you could have been any kid in a suit. Didn't mean you were actually the one and only Spider-Woman. You could have been cosplaying but you decide not to press him. He seemed deep in thought which for some strange reason reminds you of the dinner you hadn't attended. Maybe that's why he seemed so distant. "I-I'm really sorry," you mumble out quietly as the car comes to a halt at a red light. "I didn't mean to miss dinner- I was just swinging along and next thing I know I'm in Times Square and I've skipped half the day. I really did want to be there, you know I love helping Janet out with dinner. And I'm sure whatever you had was great-"

"I'm gonna stop you there," Tony interrupts, "Because I don't know what you're talking about."

Was Tony okay? It wasn't like him to forget things so easily first the web-shooters, now this. "You invited me to dinner yesterday? When you came to give me my new gadget, don't you remember?"

He shook his head. "Didn't happen." Your eyes narrow in on him as you try to figure out if he's messing with you or not. "These web-shooters of yours look just like the ones the kid has, do they work?"

"Uh... yeah they work normally but I kinda... sorta... broke them," you admit softly, dropping your gaze. Wasn't the first time you broke them and it probably wouldn't be the last. Tony got so tired of fixing them he taught you how to solve most issues you may have with them. This was probably the third time you had broken them since he taught you. "But I was hoping to fix them when I get to the tower later, I'm getting really good at it."

"...okay?" He replies. "Either they're props, I can't imagine they're all that hard to copy or you stole them."

"Stole them?" You're almost offended by such an accusation but you figure Tony has to be messing with you. "From who?"

"Spider-man?"

"Myself?" You question slowly. "Why would I steal from myself?"

"Not you, the real one."

Now things were getting a little too confusing. He thought you were a fake? If you were gonna be a fake a superhero, your first choice probably wouldn't be any version of a spider-themed superhero. "You're making zero sense- No offense but who are you even talking about?"

"For the sake of making this whole thing end faster, do you know Peter Parker?"

"I do... not."

He pulls out his phone and after a moment, showing you the screen. You observe a guy in a blue and red suit swinging between buildings similar to how you do. It abruptly cuts to him stopping a car in its tracks. You'd never seen them before, didn't recognise the suit either. "What am I looking at?"

"Spider-Man. That isn't you?"

You shake your head. "My suit looks nothing like that."

"So you're a liar then," He shrugs. "Figures."

"I am not," You fire back. He doesn't respond and you sink down in your seat. "Where are we even going?"

You get no answer. The rest of the car ride is silent which makes you antsy but you don't know how to talk to him. Everything was too weird including the fact you were currently pulling up to a big facility with the classic 'A' on the side. You had expected to go to the tower. You sit up in your seat, practically placing your face against the glass to get a look at the building.

"When did you build this?" You ask, glancing briefly to Tony. "What happened to the tower?"

You jump out the car the moment Happy comes to a stop. The place was huge and very impressive, to say the least. "This place is awesome. Is this the new avenger's facility? I've been thinking we could do with an upgrade."

"Just get inside." He brushed past you, dampening your mood a little.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y gather the circus."

'Right away boss'

You didn't recognise the voice but you can figure out it's an A.I, did he implement another one? Where did this guy find the time for all this? He takes you into what seems to be the living area joined to an open kitchen. People were dotted around the area. You recognised some, others? Not so much. The first person you notice is Natasha. She was sat on the couch and her hands were wrapped; she must have been training. You give her a smile which she doesn't return. Same old Nat. You look to the others. A wave of confusion taking over. Was this the B team?

You stand quietly beside, Tony, eying each person carefully. "This is... remind me of your name, kid?"

"Y/N."

"This is Y/N. She was arrested for a b&e and I need you to look after her for a little while, okay?" Tony was talking like you weren't in the room, weren't an avenger and weren't a grown woman who could look after herself.

"Why?" Some blonde dude pipes up and as your embarrassment takes over, you take a step behind Stark.

"I don't know what to do with her," He shrugs. "Can't let her run around unsupervised when she's claiming to be a superhero."

"I'm not claiming," you mumble more to yourself than the others. "I am a superhero."

"Spider-Man, meet the avengers." Tony takes a step to the side exposing you to a group of strangers and Natasha. You gave an awkward little wave. "Avengers, Y/N. I'll leave you to get aquatinted."

Tony leaves you alone abruptly with the avengers who clearly have no idea who you are. And they all look completely unbothered by your presence. You share pleasantries with them, quick introductions. There was Clint, he shoots arrows apparently. Sam, he didn't tell you much other than his name is Falcon. Some red and green guy very politely explains that his name is Vision; you don't question it. As you move on to a girl, it takes you a moment to figure out who she is but before you can say anything she tells you her name is Wanda, maybe she was deep in character? and last but not least you walk up to the man who called out before. He shakes your hand.

"I'm Steve Rogers." His name instantly brings back memories.

"The Steve Rogers?" You wonder quickly, "didn't you die? I'm pretty sure I went to your funeral."

He is visibly uncomfortable with your question but you were just curious. You were almost certain you'd attended this guys funeral with Peggy a couple of years ago. "I think you've got the wrong guy."

You decide not to press him further. After introductions, everyone just went back to doing their own thing leaving you with the only person who stayed; Natasha. She was still sat on the couch, only she had a bottle of water now. You were surprised she wasn't the first one to bail. You walk closer to her. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, I guess." Natasha shrugs

"Why the fuck do you work with Elizabeth Olsen? Isn't she an actress?"

Natasha watches you for a moment before frowning a little. You sit down next to her. "Who?"

"And where is the rest of the team? I don't know who these people are?" It's hard to explain to an avenger that the rest of the avengers aren't avengers. Something was definitely wrong here. Plus how can Natasha not know Elizabeth Olsen when she clearly works with her?

"What are you talking about?" Natasha asks brows knitted together as she looks over you. You decide to just drop the topic and move on to your next problem; broken web-shooters. With a heavy sigh, you get up off the couch.

"Does this place have a lab at least? Maybe I can fix my web-shooters since I'm stuck here."

"Oh yeah, I'll show you." Natasha was being uncharacteristically nice to you. However, this place was huge and you were more than likely to get lost trying to find it if Nat didn't help so you're not about to turn her down

"Lead the way, firecracker," You flash a smile. She didn't like that nickname. She hated the fact you and Maximoff used it whenever you talked about her. The redhead breezes past and you follow behind her to a state of the art workshop. It was spacious and expensive-looking, that's for sure. You couldn't even begin to fathom what half the machines were for. Tony really must have forked out for this place. You sit at a workbench, using a tool kit you found after ten minutes of rooting around. Natasha lingers in the lab with you but she's not really saying anything. It's a little awkward but she was tasked with looking after you.

"You don't have to watch me, you know? I can look after myself."

She doesn't respond but she also doesn't leave either so you let her be. It doesn't take long to fix your gadgets after you realise that it's just the button that's not working. Once finished you twirl on your stool with a satisfied smile. "Now, I just need to test 'em,"

"Do it outside. I don't want to have to clean up after you." She hummed. With a simple nod, you slap them on your wrists and charge outside. It's a nice day, the sun is shining, the compound seems busy. You walk around the grounds, trying to find the perfect spot. As few people as possible was the goal. Two fingers on the button a thread of white shoots out and connects to the side of the building, using it to pull yourself towards it. You land on all fours against the wall before crawling higher. The pain in your leg was evident but nothing compared to when you first fell from the sky. You lean off the side, freeing up one of your hands to test the other shooter. You fire a quick blast following it with your eyes only to see Tony had returned and was stood beside Natasha. Fuck.

"Get down, now!" He growls

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[fic-xation]

Spicing It Up

Sam proposes something a little unorthodox for his and Max’s night off. But is it too much for even Max to handle? Archive of our Own

"Uh-huh? ... Yeah. Oh, yeah. Absolutely... Ah, Mahzeltov! ... Well, give her my best. Goodbye, sir."

"Well?" Max asked, anxiously popping his head out from the crowded confines of their office trash can. Their usual scuffle over the phone always landed him in the strangest of places... "What'd the commissioner say?"

Sam, shaking his head, hung up the receiver.

"Sorry, lil' buddy. No aliens, demons, mutants, or some unholy amalgamation of the three."

"What about a ponzi scheme?!" Max rocketed himself from the trashcan, snagging at Sam's collar in a panicked frenzy. "Embezzlement?! ... Hell, I'll even settle for mild insurance fraud, jut gimme SOMETHING, man! Anything!"

With the air of one casually removing a tick, Sam snagged at Max's ears, and plucked him from his lapel.

"Nothin' doin', Max. There isn't even so much as a WHISPER of crime tonight."

Tossing his friend to one side, Sam crossed over towards the open window, his hands comfortably nestled in their respective pockets.

"Seems as if the city that never sleeps is taking a much needed power nap." he said thoughtfully.

His partner, however, was far from thoughtful.

"... AaaaaAAAHHHH, I CAN'T TAKE THE SILENCE, SAM!! I need chaos! I need mayhem! I need some sense of superiority as I beat the snot out of some slimy smuggler!"

With a faintly groan, Max collapsed, face-first, against the floor. Sam, meanwhile, merely observed him, scratching at his doggish ear with a contemplative sort of expression.

"... Well..." Sam slid the window shut. "If you're REALLY eager for something to do... We could, uh..." he cleared his throat, awkwardly straightening his tie. "Y'know... Spend some 'quality' time together..."

Max's despair seemed to vanish as quickly as it'd appeared. Scrambling to his feet, he race over towards Sam, leaping into his unsuspecting arms like a bride readying to cross the threshold.

"Why SAMMY, you dirty dog..." Max cooed, snuggling up to his partner's broad chest. "Why didn't you just SAY so?"

He gave a saccharine giggle of mock, girlish delight, coyly tracing little circles against the fabric of Sam's tie.

"What did you have in mind? ... Ooh! Why don't we break into the aquarium again and have a brief make-out sesh in the shark tank?"

"Ehh," Sam shrugged. "I don't think so... I always get the feeling those great whites are enjoying it far more than they should..."

"Fair enough... Oh! How's about a game of ~French Maid Shooting the Balls Off a Nazi Officer?~" Max's smile then faded slightly. "Wait, no, I tore up my fishnet stockings after that caper in Reno last week... Ooh, I got it! How about you leave me handcuffed to the bed, forcing me to relive my mysterious childhood trauma as I desperately struggle for survival?" Max seemed to salivate at the very idea. "Oh my god... HOT..."

"... Actually..." Sam gave a sheepish little smile. "I was thinking we could try something... Different."

"Oooh!" Max flashed a carnivorous grin. "Spicing it up, I see! Do tell!"

Sam opened his mouth to speak, before snapping it shut with a bashful whine. Whatever this idea was, it was evidently too embarrassing to speak aloud. Chewing his lower lip, Sam gestured for Max to come closer. Max, kicking his elongated feet excitedly, happily obliged, gleefully leaning in as Sam finally mustered the courage to whisper his proposal.

Max's smile melted like an ice cube on a frying pan. Mouth agape, he suddenly drew back from Sam's embrace.

"... Y-you're... You're not SERIOUS, right?"

"We don't have to try it if you don't want to!" Sam said hurriedly, waving his hands. "I-it was just a thought!"

"... Yeah, but... Why THAT?" Max seemed repulsed by the very notion. "It's just... It's so... Ugh! I can't even SAY it!"

"I know it's a little... out of the norm for us-" Sam said, settling himself onto a chair as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. "I just... y'know..."

"... Are you bored with our usual shtick?" Max looked almost hurt by the idea.

Sam's ears pricked up almost at once.

"No! No, buddy, far from it! ... I was only thinkin'... Maybe if we TRIED it, we might wind up likin' it... We wouldn't make a habit of it, of course, but..." he trailed off, lowering the brim of his hat down over his eyes. "... Nothing. Forget I even-"

"Do YOU wanna try it?"

... A surprisingly straightforward question, considering it was Max.

With a sputter of surprise, Sam felt the heat rise against his muzzle. Squaring his shoulders, he hurriedly glanced away.

"... Th-that... That's not really impor-"

"Up-up-up!" Max swatted a finger against Sam's lip. "Shut it, Sam, I've heard enough. Look, if you REALLY wanna give this... THING a shot, I'm in."

Sam finally returned his gaze to Max, eyes wide.

"But... But I thought-"

"Well, QUIT thinkin', or you'll work yourself into a freakin' tizzy! And mind you, I don't use the word 'tizzy' that often." Max reached up, readjusting Sam's hat to its proper angle. "... At the risk of sounding like some pouty-faced teen in a bad chick-flick, I..." he glanced down, fidgeting with his hands. "... Well, I trust you. You wanna do something, so I'll try it. If I like it, great. If I don't, I get to take a baseball bat to your kneecaps. Win-win!"

"... When did a baseball bat enter into the equation?" Sam smiled slightly.

"It's called 'incentive,' Sam." Max huffed, folding his arms. "So, we got a deal?" Sam's chuckled lightly, patting a gentle paw to the crown of Sam's head.

"Okay, lil' buddy... If you insist."

~~

Two hours later, Max found himself in the desolate hallway of their building, just outside their office door, feeling increasingly foolish with every passing second. Swallowing hard, he tugged at the faux pearls lining his throat. In spite of his bravado earlier, the whole ordeal made him uncharacteristically nervous... THIS was new territory for him and Sam... Sure, they'd been married almost eleven times, did the horizontal bop practically every hour, and fooled around with everything from jumper cables to piggy banks... but THIS...

This wasn't just spicing things up, this was dousing it in tabasco sauce before lighting it on fire... 

"Saaa-aaaam-" he whined aloud, hurriedly glancing over his shoulders. "C'mon, aren't you ready YET?"

God forbid any of their neighbors, (least of all Flint Paper) should see him like this... Not that he didn't look amazing. All these years later, and he could STILL rock his old prom dress like an absolute queen... It was just the context of the outfit that made it feel... weird...

And the cheap Taiwanese plastic of the jewelry rubbing up against his fur probably didn't help either.

"Just one more sec, pal!" Sam called back, and suddenly, there came the muffled noise of a clattering misstep, followed by a hefty THUMP.

Curious, Max raised a brow.

"... Ya still alive in there?"

"... J-just lost my footing!" Sam hollered, and Max, with a faint giggle, could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

'... Clumsy goof...' He thought fondly, straightening the candy-colored lace of his hem. Just then, the door swung open, and Max, glancing up, barely troubled to suppress his laughter.

A holdover from their 25th anniversary at the Inventory, Sam was all dolled up in his best, (and probably ONLY) tux; all in black, with a prominent bowtie and tophat replacing their casual counterparts.

"... Look, I didn't have the time OR the money for a new suit, okay?" Sam grumbled, scowling at Max's derisive mirth.

"H-hey! It's important to recycle!" chuckled Max, wiping away a tear as he strolled across the threshold. As soon as the door closed behind him, however, he suddenly took stock of Sam's... 'renovation.'

It quickly became clear why the whole elaborate set-up took close to two hours. The office was cleaner than Max'd ever seen it, (though, admittedly, most of the clutter had just been shoved up against the walls.) In the center stood their rarely used ping-pong table, made only somewhat classier by a red sheet posing as a tablecloth. The lights'd been dimmed, and the shudders drawn, leaving only the rust-stained candelabra as the main source of illumination. Max's nostrils twitched, and he caught a familiar blend of tomatoes, diced onions, and oregano.

Spaghetti sauce.

... Romantic spaghetti sauce... Romantic spaghetti sauce with romantic outfits and romantic mood lighting... How could it get any worse?

"Oh, I hope you don't mind-" Sam's voice cut through Max's train of thought. "I found one of my Sinatra CDs while I was cleaning. Would it be alright if I...?" he trailed off, smiling all too hopefully.

Sinatra. Of course. The perfect soundtrack for any romantic setting.

Max did his best to smile in spite of the anxiety twisting his stomach.

"Sinatra? Sure! Put him on! Ol' blue eyes! Swoonatra! Chairman of the board! After all, the guy's been married four times! Who better to serenade our... d... d-d.." the very word seem to swell Max's tongue. Dry-heaving, he promptly struck his own gut.

"D-DATE! OUR DATE!" he finally choked, gasping for air as he pressed his hands to his knees.

... The relief of finally verbalizing it was dampened slightly by the palpably awkward silence that followed.

"... You good, buddy?" asked Sam, worryingly. Max hurriedly straightened up, forcing a smile with such manic intensity that his left eye began to twitch.

"You betcha! I'm great! I'm better than great! I'm about to have a romantic candle-lit dinner with my... s... s-sweetheart..." Max felt the blood rush to his face, but he bared his teeth, determined to persist. People used cutesy terminology during these things, right? Sam was probably expecting it by this point.

"... I-isn't that right? ... My little... Er... Sh-shumbly... w-wubbles?"

... Max would've given six of his own ribs to crawl under that table and never be seen by anyone ever again.

"... Y'know-" Sam smiled, though not unkindly, as he placed a gentle hand to Max's rigid shoulder. "You don't have to talk like that if it makes you uncomfortable... Heck-" he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "It's kinda makin' ME uncomfortable..."

Max exhaled, his body going limp.

"Oh, thank GOD... No offense, Sam, but I just can't do the cutesy-wutesy crap... At least NOT unironically."

"I'd have to agree," nodded Sam, pulling out a chair for his partner. "Watching you trying to be purposefully adorable is like pulling teeth."

"Um, I beg to differ, Sam." Max hopped up onto the chair, the length of his legs barely making it past the edge of the seat. "Pulling teeth is both exhilarating and vaguely erotic. What I did a moment ago was just..." he gave a faint shudder. "Creepy..."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he carefully pushed Max in.

"Well, that aside, I DO appreciate your willingness to give this a shot, Max. Just remember, if it gets to be too much, you can tap out at any time." He fetched a comforting smile, playfully tussling the space between Max's ears. "Don't forget, our safeword is 'subvert.'"

"Aaah, subvert." mused Max, settling back against his chair. "My favorite variety of 'vert,' second only to 'per.'"

"Noodle-head." Sam chortled. Leaning over, he planted a soft kiss to Max's cheek, briefly savoring the familiarly fluffy texture against his lips. Max, with a sigh, contentedly leaned into it, a slow smile stretching across his face.

... Maybe this 'conventional' date night wouldn't be so bad...

"Oh, speaking of which-" Sam straightened up, breaking the kiss almost as soon as it'd begun. "I better check on the pasta before it burns."

"Ohhhh," groaned Max, reaching his arms out like a needy toddler. "Can't we just skip the food and play tonsil-hockey for an hour?"

"Your vividly grotesque idioms for making out are strangely winsome, Max." Sam commented, crossing through into the next room.

While his partner made himself busy, Max tried his best to occupy his sporadic attention, absent-mindedly studying the slender prongs of his laid-out fork.

'... I wonder how far I could get this up my nose...' he pondered, before hurriedly shaking his head. 'No, no... No zaniness... Sam wants a nice, romantic evening, and by God's left nipple, I WILL DELIVER!'

... But there was that word again... Romantic... There was just something to it, some sense of unease that dangled from the phrase like a booger. But then again, maybe it wasn't the word, but rather the aesthetic that came with it. Hearts, flowers, naked cherubs and giggling waifs and long walks on the beach... It was just all so...

'Disgusting? Stupid? Flagrantly artificial?'

... Embarrassing....

Maybe it was just because he and Sam never had to experience the awkwardness of a first date. They'd grown up together, and once they finally took their relationship to the next level, their lives just became one long, uninterrupted honeymoon phase. There was never any anxiety over impressing the other, no charade of exemplary manners.

Now, they were on a REAL date...

And Max had to suffer all the emotional torment that came with it.

"Hot stuff, comin' through!"

Max gave a slight start. Quickly setting down the fork, he watched as Sam reentered the office, a saucer of steaming spaghetti on each hand.

"I'll say you are." Max smirked, disguising his surprise behind a snide little wink.

"Aw, hush." scoffed Sam, smiling modestly as he placed their dinner towards their respective ends. Moving over towards the CD player atop his desk, Sam carefully slid the Sinatra disk into place, before hurriedly switching to his favorite track.

"~Every kiss, every hug

seems to act just like a drug.

You're getting to be a habit with me.

Let me stay in your arms,

I'm addicted to your charms.

You're getting to be a habit with me.~"

"How apropos," sneered Max, as the honey voice filled the space.

"Eh, what can I say?" Sam winked in return. "I'm a sucker for theming."

Briefly retreating under the table, Sam soon withdrew a small ice bucket housing a bottle of something pink and bubbly. Holding it at arm's length, Sam popped off the cork, taking care not to spill too much froth.

"... Champagne, eh?" Max smiled, a little uneasily, as Sam poured out their glasses. "... Gee, you, uh... Ya really went all out, huh?"

"Well, go big or go home, right?" Sam said, sounding somewhat unsure. Sliding the bottle back into the bucket, he took his seat opposite Max, suddenly looking around as if having noticed something.

"... Did I overdo it?"

"What? ... Oh, no! No!" Max shook his head. "No, I didn't mean that in a bad way! I'm just..." 'Intimidated?' "... Flattered that you went to so much trouble, that's all!"

Sam relaxed, taking a small sip from his drink, before chuckling. "... Heh... Well, I guess this is what you'd call a childhood fantasy."

"... Really?" Max raised an eyebrow.

"Sure," Sam bowed his head bashfully, his muzzle shifting from brown to red. "I'm only a little ashamed to say so, but ever since my blossoming adolescence, it's been a secret dream of mine to treat my special someone to a hand-crafted night of atmospheric intimacy."

Max pressed a hand to his chest. That was.. surprisingly kind of touching...

"... What are you, a girl? Who refers to themselves as blossoming?"

Much like any knee jerk reaction, the quip was out before he even had a chance to think. Ears standing on end, he clenched his fists so hard against the table that the cloth began to bunch under his fingers. This wasn't right, this wasn't romantic... If the circumstances had been different, it would've been fine. Hell, it would've been expected... But this was a DATE, people aren't supposed to make fun of their dates!

"But I DID blossom," continued Sam, completely unfazed. "I blossomed like a beanstalk. What's YOUR excuse, pint-size?"

Max heaved a sigh, releasing his snag on the wrinkled cloth.

'I've served as the racket for games of tennis that were less stressful than this...' he thought, snatching at his glass, and downing the drink in one quick-fire gulp.

"... You doin' okay, buddy?" Sam said, and all at once, Max felt as if his hand were encased in an oversized catcher's mitt. Max looked up, and saw Sam's platter-sized paw gently caressing his apple-sized fist.

All at once, inspiration took hold; a chance for redemption.

... Or further mortification, depending on how you looked at it. For Max, the odds were pretty split.

Nevertheless, Max screwed up his courage, clutching at Sam's hand with both of his own, he yanked at his partner's arm, drawing the knuckles to his mouth...

... And kissing them.

It was light, clumsy, and about as awkward as a grade school play, but he managed, hurriedly throwing Sam's hand aside like a used snot rag before slumping back against his seat.

Sam, meanwhile, just sat like an open-mouthed totem pole, slowly glancing between Max, and his hand. 

Was that a good reaction?

... Then, quite out of the blue, Sam was chuckling. That special husky, back-of-the-throat sort of chortle that Max typically adored, but was NOW making him feel about as hot as a steamed vegetable, and just as stupid.

"Don't laugh!" he snapped, though something in him was grateful for the sound breaking the tension.

"S... sorry, Max..." Sam snickered. "I-it's just... I haven't seen you blush like that since our ninth honeymoon."

Max's beady eyes narrowed. "... What're you talking about?"

"Oh, come on..." Sam smirked, leaning against his elbow. "You remember."

Max's eyes suddenly went wide.

"... Oh, good Lord Sam-" he whimpered, ears drooped. "Not that, please-"

"Now what WAS it?" Sam playfully pondered, scratching at his chin. "What WAS that little word...?"

"Sam, I beg you-" Max slid further into his seat, his aforementioned blush only deepening. "Please, no!"

"That magic little four syllable phrase-"

"Sam-"

"That rarely used pet name that makes you crumble like a Jenga tower-"

"SAM!"

"Hm?" Sam finally looked towards Max, still smiling his complacent little smile. "Something amiss, my little Lago-Muffin?"

... As soon as it was out in the open, Max wasted no time, slamming his face into the plate of spaghetti with a low, muffled groan. Sauce went flying in all directions, but he didn't care.

He hated Sam.

He hated that stupid nickname.

And he hated how much he loved both of them and how weak they ultimately made him...

"... So you DO remember." Sam piped up, evidently proud of himself. He slid a noodle from Max's scalp, before slurping it up with a satisfied gulp. "I know I remember. You and I had just nabbed the infamous Pinwheel Purloiner, and were celebrating over a chocolate malt. The whole set up was so beautifully Rockwellian that I called you that as a joke... But, low and behold, you purred like James Dean's motorcycle makin' sweet love to Martha Stewart's blender."

"... Done in by a lousy play on words." Max mumbled into the pasta. "... How humiliating..."

"Nah," beamed Sam, raising Max's head up by his ears. "On the contrary, I find it rather endearing." Taking a moment to observe his partner, he added, "Sheesh, Max... ya look like a tomato..."

"Don't remind me," Max grumbled, eyes downcast. Sam shook his head.

"No, I mean ya got sauce all over your face. Here-"

Lifting him up and across the table, Sam drew Max into his lap. Plucking at a napkin, he then began to smother it against Max's unwitting cheek.

"Agh-! S-Sam!" Max sputtered, writhing like a dug-up grub. "Quit it!"

Sam paused.

"Lago-Muffin."

‘... God dammit.’

Max's eyes turned to comical spirals as he slumped against Sam's stomach in a love-struck daze. Satisfied, Sam was able to finish his cleaning before Max came to.

"... That nickname NEVER leaves this room, understood?" Max growled, still red-faced despite the lack of pasta sauce. Sam gave a soft guffaw,

"Whatever you say, Max. Do ya want me to put you ba-"

"No." said Max stoutly, folding his arms. "I live on your lap now."

"... For all intents and purposes, that may as well be true." Sam considered, spooling a strand on pasta onto his fork, before passing it along to Max. Max happily obliged, snaring the fork between his razor-like teeth like a shark.

Just then, Sam's CD reached the final track of the album.

"~I won't dance.

Don't ask me.

I won't dance.

Don't ask me.

I won't dance,

Madame, with you.~"

And once again, Max was granted an idea.

This time, however, with more confidence.

Leaping to the floor, he bowed slightly, offering out his hand in an all-too romantic fashion.

"Sinatra may not dance, but I'd like to." He grinned. "... Care to join me?"

The outright coolness of the gesture was enough to surprise them both. But while Max kept his composure, it was Sam's turn to look flustered. Blushing, he nervously tugged at his bowtie.

"... W-what, uh... what brought this on?"

"Eh," Max shrugged. "I've already been humiliated beyond belief... Twice now, in fact! So, I figure... third time's the charm, right? ... Besides..." He gently threaded their fingers together, urging Sam onto his feet. "... I'm a sucker for theming."

... Maybe the awkwardness of a first date wasn't so bad. Heck, maybe Max was even better at this romance thing than he thought! He'd just have to keep at it if he wanted to get any better.

But that was alright. After all...

Max didn't mind spicing things up every once in a while.

~~

An entire fanfic inspired by a single throwaway line of @supermary64‘s marvelously charming prom comic!

Hope you lovelies enjoyed it!

[starshineskyandthepowerofrock]

First Impressions

Part 4 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

I had intentionally not told any of the students which band I would be a part of with the hope of making it a pleasant surprise when I walked in their dorm. I suppose they're still in for a surprise, but seeing a vampire walk in right behind me may dampen the "pleasant" part.

Skylar has caught up to me. Her smile gives me the fullest view of her fangs I've seen all night. I have to fight every muscle in my body not to instinctively step back, because at least she's being friendly.

"Seriously?" she says. "We're gonna be in the same band?"

I swallow hard. "It would appear so," I say, trying to restrain the shake in my voice.

"Well, in that case," Skylar says, holding out a hand. "It's a pleasure to work with you."

It takes me a second to realize what she's trying to do, largely because I can't recall the last time I shook hands with someone. I'm used to curtsies and bows. I adjust my tiara a bit, wondering if she's somehow unaware of my royal status. Her eyes flit to my tiara, then to her hand, then back to my eyes. Her brow furrows.

"Do people not shake hands around here?" she asks, beginning to pull away.

Oh no, I'm being rude! I grab her hand and shake it. It's rough and highly callused, especially around the fingertips. It's also room temperature. Like a corpse. "Sorry," I say. "Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Her Royal Highness, Princess Starshine of the Land of Light, but you may call me Star. I mostly sing, but I also play a little guitar."

We let go and Skylar puts her thumbs in her belt loops. "And I'm Skylar Acdalur... of... Acdalur Family Farm, but you can call me Sky," she says. "I mostly play guitar, but I sing a little."

Well, Sky is a far more Land of Light-esque name than Skylar, so I'm more than willing to call her as such. I nod. "Okay, then. Sky, it is. I'll go to your dorm with you."

And so we walk. Something Sky said is sitting with me weird. "You own a farm?" I ask.

Sky chuckles. "My family owns a farm," she says, then looks up at the high ceiling. "All this is kinda a big change for me."

I think back to the tiny orphanage. Its square footage was probably smaller than this hallway alone. "I know what you mean. But you'll get used to it. I certainly did... Did you say your family?"

"Yep," Sky says. "Mom, Dad, and seven big brothers." She turns to me, amused. "Mom really wanted a girl."

I nod, taking this in. "You... have a family," I say, as though saying it again will help me better understand.

"What, did you think we divide like cells?"

I scoff. "No! I just... I guess I never thought about monsters having, like, families and stuff. But I suppose it only makes sense."

We chat the rest of the walk, and all the while my mind can't move on from the concept of a monster having a family. I think about how much my parents love me. Do her parents feel the same way about her? Or did they have her for utilitarian reasons? But her face when she spoke about them reminds me so much of how anyone else would speak about their family. So, why would she leave them, then? But I suppose that's what all of the kids here are doing. It doesn't mean they don't care about the ones they're leaving behind. Huh.

When we get to the dorm, Sky blinks at the handle-less door in confusion. I guess they don't have this kind of lock on the Isle. I'll have to demonstrate, then. I lean towards the little mic in the wall next to the door, press the button that turns it on, and hum the little jingle for this specific door. The doorknob appears in a little whirl of sparkles.

Sky smiles, impressed. "Nice," she says.

I enter the front living area of the three-room apartment first, sure to block Sky because maybe I can do some damage control before the "What is a vampire doing in my room" storm hits.

Three girls turn upon the door's opening, and their eyes light up in delight. "Your Highness!" they all say in unison, and hurry to greet me.

I recognize Gossamer Glade from earlier. "Are you going to be in our band?" she asks, giving a submissive curtsy. Her big, round, green eyes and heart-shaped face make her look a whole lot like her older sisters, but I'm willing to judge her on her own merits. I smile at her.

"Yes," I say, to which the girls begin to squeal.

One of the girls, whose long, fuzzy ears sticking out from the top of her bubblegum pink pixie cut mark her as a moon rabbit, bows straight down and back up, failing to contain her excitement. "Ohmygoodness, Your Highness, I lovelovelove your voice SOOOO much! My name is Waxing Crescent! I play drums!" she says in a very high-pitched voice.

"And I'm a bassist," Gossamer says.

The third girl I know to be a mermaid, based on her pale blue skin and the fact that her deep blue hair smells heavily of salt water. She's looking down at her scaly feet, body parts she is likely unused to, judging by her awkward stance and the fact that she's swaying. "I'm Pearlessence," she mumbles. "I play keyboard."

"We were wondering why there were only three of us in here," Gossamer says. "You don't know how relieved I am to know that you're the fourth member."

"So, are you gonna live in our dorm with us?" Crescent asks. "'Cause there's space for one more!"

"Um, actually, I'm sleeping in my own room. But..." I step out of the way so that Sky can enter the room. Faces fall, and a horrible stillness descends over the three girls. Pearl looks like she's trying not to look terrified. Crescent looks purely bewildered. Gossamer looks like she wants me to guide yet another student to the principal's office tonight.

"Everyone," I say delicately. "This is Sky. She's a guitarist. She's the fifth member of our band."

"Nice to meet you," Sky says, and holds out a hand. The girls jump back as one. Sky gets the message and puts her arm down.

Gossamer looks to me. "May I please speak to the principal." It's phrased like a question, but the tone suggests a demand.

Ugh, my legs are jelly at this point! I don't want to make that walk twice in one night! Especially with someone in such a bad mood. "You may speak with her tomorrow," I say. I need to change the subject. "I trust everyone has been settling in nicely?"

"We were," Gossamer says.

"'Were'?"

"Yes," she says, turning to stare daggers at Sky. "We were."

Sky says nothing, but refuses to break eye contact with Gossamer. The unreadable mask has fallen back over her face, and it's only now I notice it had been starting to come off earlier. I place cautious hands on her shoulders and guide her to one of the bedrooms on either side of the living area. "Why don't we ensure your room is in order?"

"Wait!" Gossamer steps in front of us. "I'm sleeping in this room!"

"The bedrooms are designed to accommodate two people," I reply.

"Yes," she says. "Two people."

I blink. "Are you implying that Sky isn't a person?"

Gossamer looks Sky up and down. "If the shoe fits."

Sky tenses under my hands. I look at her face to find her pale eyes wide and her nostrils flared. The slightest twitch in her upper lip reminds me of the razor-sharp fangs gleaming just behind it. I remove my hands from her with haste.

If Gossamer realizes she's gone too far, she doesn't make it apparent. Nose up, she walks past us and towards the door to the hallway.

"We'll see what my father has to say about this," she says before slamming the door behind her.

Crescent's voice breaks the silence. "Her father?"

"Mr. Glade is the history teacher," I explain.

"We're gonna have to be taught by her dad?" Sky asks with disgust.

I pat her on the shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Sky. Come on, let's get you situated."

⭐⭐⭐

The discomfort of the previous encounter has encouraged Crescent and Pearl to retreat into their room, so now it's just Sky and me in a half-furnished bedroom. Gossamer has already claimed the side nearest to the door, as evinced by an ornately designed oak canopy bed with sheer, green and yellow floral hangings, and a matching vanity and wardrobe. In a corner farthest from the door are a couple beat-up leather trunks and a guitar case.

"I take it those are yours?" I ask.

"Yeah, your guys are good," Sky says, taking in the room as she makes her way inside. She starts digging through her envelope again. "So, I read the instructions for the Soul Key thing back home, but could you give me a refresher?" She pulls out the key in question. It's plain stainless steel. They're normally much shinier, and made of silver. An exception must have been made for her sake.

"Okay," I say. "Open that little compartment on the end there."

Sky undoes the tiny latch on a clear, circular compartment that makes up the handle of the key and opens it. She looks up at me. "And then you put, like, one of your fingernails or something in there, right?"

I swallow back a trace amount of vomit. "A part of your body, yes. Most opt for a couple strands of hair."

Sky looks down at her stubby fingernails, which look like they haven't had a day of care her whole life. Or death. Or... existence? "I guess that would make things easier," she says before plucking a couple strands from her swooping bangs. "Why am I doing this?" she asks as she balls up the white hair between her fingers.

"The Soul Key needs a bit of you so that it may extract a bit of your soul and use it to, among other things, automatically personalize your living space. You'll find it saves loads of decorating time."

Sky's fingers pause. "That's a pretty creepy way to decorate."

I refrain from pointing out the irony in a vampire calling something creepy and instead watch with interest as Sky puts her hair in the key and closes it up. My impression of vampires has always been that they don't have souls, which is why they don't have reflections. So, what happens when a Soul Key tries to extract a soul from a person who doesn't have one? As I ask myself this question, I look up at Gossamer's vanity to see both Sky and myself reflected back. Huh.

We watch her hair disappear with a magical spark, and soon the key starts glowing hot pink. The glow gets bright to the point where we can't make out the form of the key anymore, then subsides to reveal that the handle has transformed into the shape of a hot pink heart. The rest of the key is no longer gray, but sports an anodized rainbow pattern. Interesting. I would have expected the visual representation of a monster's soul - which I guess she has - to be much scarier than this. And nowhere near as cute.

Sky looks up at me, and I her. "Cool," she says. "What next?"

I snap out of my thoughts. I'm supposed to be helping her. "Put it in the appropriate keyhole," I tell her, indicating the wall across from the door. Sky locates the keyhole in the wall and does as instructed. She turns the key hard, and seems surprised to find it cranking like a music box wind-up. She cranks it a few more times, then lets go.

"Stand back!" I tell her, and she obeys.

A music box tune pumps its way through the walls, and a sparkly, rainbow-colored mist sets in, taking the form of the same basic furnishings as Gossamer, but it's all rather minimalist when compared with Gossamer's numerous flower carvings, and it's made of polished ebony instead of Gossamer's matte brown oak. Forgetting who I'm with for a second, I expect the largest furniture piece to take the form of a bed, but no, it's a coffin. Sky gravitates to this part of her new room immediately. She runs a hand along the shiny split lid, giving an impressed whistle.

"A real casket..." she says, lifting the lid's top half to reveal a cushy, pastel interior, including a comfortable-looking blanket with a rainbow-colored cobweb print. "I never thought I'd sleep in one of these."

"What else would a vampire sleep in?" I ask.

"Back home, all we could afford were coffins," Sky replies. Apparently, there's a difference.

"Well, I clearly don't know much about coffins, but this casket seems... cozy," I say, and I mean it. Curious, I push down on the plush bottom, and my hand gets a good couple inches down before springing back. It really seems like something one wouldn't mind sleeping in, if breathing wasn't an issue. It adds a fascinating new context to something I normally only see during funerals.

Sky has went to open her trunks. "I can't believe there's no tuition to get into here," she tells me. "This is so nice, I feel kinda bad."

"Oh, don't!" I say as I watch her move a small assortment of worn jeans and plain shirts from one of her trunks to the wardrobe that already holds several uniform sets. Is that all the clothes she brought to last through the school year? "Mama says that if you have what it takes to get in here, then money shouldn't hold you back. Plus, this school is state-run. Have you seen how big our kingdom is? We have no shortage of tax money!"

Sky chuckles as she closes the casket and climbs on top of it to hang up a couple posters for some monster bands I've never heard of. She teeters on the rounded, smooth surface.

"Um, maybe you shouldn't-" I start, but Sky has already slipped and fallen hard on her arm. I yelp and rush to help her up. "Are you okay?" I ask, pulling her up by her good arm. I'm afraid to see the damage on the other one.

Sky sucks in the air through her teeth, rolling her shoulder a couple times. "Yeah, it just hurts."

I sigh. "I thought you broke your arm for a second!"

Sky shakes her head. "I'm a vampire. Only a handful of things can actually hurt me."

I nod, reminded of what she is. "Oh, right! Like, um, silver is one, right? And garlic, and wooden stakes, and fire, and decapitation..." I trail off when I notice Sky's eyes widening, and the corners of her mouth coming down.

"... That's right," she says, her brow furrowed. "Guess you do know some things about vampires." She releases her arm from the grip I hadn't noticed I still had on her and turns to keep unpacking.

Hmm... Awkward... I consider telling her that the only reason I know all that is for defense purposes, but that may just freak her out more. Instead, I keep quiet and watch her take out a ragged plush spider with eight button eyes. She places it inside the casket, and its aging brown terrycloth looks a bit out of place amongst the soft, dreamy fabrics.

"That's cute," I say, trying to make things a bit less tense. "You didn't really strike me as a stuffed animal type."

Sky closes the casket again, shrugging sheepishly. "I've had him since I was real little. Can't sleep without him." She's staring at the floor.

I try to imagine what Sky as a child would look like. The image is actually kind of cute. "Daw," I say. "That's really sweet. What's his name?"

"Uh..." Sky drums her fingers on the casket. "Wilbur," she says, then turns away again. She goes to pull out a frame from one of the trunks, and places it on the vanity, whose mirror is shaped like a heart. "You were wondering about my family, right? Here we are."

It's one thing to hear someone has seven siblings, but Sky flanked, three on one side and four on the other, by vampire boys ranging in age from mid teens to early twenties is still quite a sight. Gender isn't the only way Sky differs from her brothers, though. Everyone in the photo wears clothes as old-looking as what Sky is wearing right now, but everyone else has at least made an effort to appear clean-cut. Sky, meanwhile, has half her shirt untucked and has attached a couple chains to her jeans, which once again have that spotted acid wash pattern on them. She's the only one with pants like that. So that's a choice. Interesting. Also notable is that all of her family members, including her parents, are holding dainty-looking flutes, all except Sky, who brandishes a black electric guitar with numerous fading stickers on it.

What strikes me the most, though, is how... colorful everyone else is. None of them are nearly as melanin blessed as me, mind, but despite their ashy, pale complexions they look positively glowing next to the bone white Sky. They also all have rather dark hair, and here's Sky with hair the color of snow. And their eyes are red, the standard vampire eye color that Sky seems to lack.

"Wow," I say. "They're... not what I was expecting."

"Yeah," Sky says, amused.

"So, how did..." I have to traverse this carefully. "The... all-white thing happen? Because you super don't look like your parents." Nailed it, Star.

Sky shrinks a little, averting her eyes. "I have albinism, if you couldn't tell."

I step back. "Is that contagious?"

"No!" Sky exclaims, indignant. She sighs and softens a bit. "It's genetic. It just means I'm missing a lot of melanin. You know, coloring?"

"Oh, so you're albino! Yeah, I've heard of that, come to think of it. I really should have realized, but it hardly registered what with everything else going on with you. You know... being a... um... a monster and all."

Sky blinks. "Right."

I clasp my hands together. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Sky, but I should really get to bed. See you in class!" I say.

Sky nods. "You too."

As I make my way back to my bedroom, my mind swims in the oddest mixture of bewilderment and bliss. I'm starting school tomorrow. I'm really going to be in a band. But craziest of all, I met a monster today, and she's going to be in my band. And even crazier, I think I'm starting to be okay with that.

[flatsuke]

are requests still open? :D I would like to request for a Keisuke Shijo fluff/nsfw (*´꒳`*) he's from Liar! Office deception(: he's such a babe but there's currently no fanfic for him yet coz.. he's pretty new? If you haven't played the game yet, then I would like to request for a eisuke/ota fluff(*´꒳`*). Thank you! You're an amazing writer(: all the best💜

Hi anon! Unfortunately, I haven’t played Liar yet, so I chose to write some Eisuke fluff instead (I hope you don’t mind). Thank you for the compliment and I hope you like this ^^!

Title: tête-à-tête

Summary: Eisuke can’t keep his eyes to himself, while she makes a mistake that’d seemingly jeopardize her. It doesn’t.

Genre:  Fluff, Romance

Pairing:  MC/Eisuke

a/n: this fic is based on this post i made a while back lmao. i’m kinda proud of turning a shitpost into an actual fic :’) also, eisuke and mc are dorks.

@maidofstars @2bedroom-baddestbidderlove @bolt8826

@ada254 (THANK YOU FOR YOUR IDEAS IN THE TAGS!!)

“This is a pain,” Luke said, moping. “I came all the wayhere only to find out MC isn’t here yet.”

“You do know that you’re required to be here for auctionmeetings, right?” Eisuke sipped his coffee, not even bothering to hide hisdispleasure at his own tasteless brew.

“There’s no point in being here if I don’t get to see hermagnificent collarbones today…”

“Aaand there he goes again,” Ota commented.

True enough, the penthouse wasn’t as lively as it ought tobe with MC absent. Eisuke could feel his mood quickly dampening at the taste ofcoffee that wasn’t hers. He had half a mind to page her just to salvage histaste buds, but he had to restrain himself. She worked herself to the boneyesterday, and was feeling a bit guilty.

“Well, collarbones aside, MC really is cute, huh?” Babaadded.

Eisuke felt a stinging pain in his mouth, only to realize hebit his tongue at Baba’s statement.

“Aw, come on, guys. Don’t look at me like that. Are yousaying you all seriously haven’tthought that at least once?”

The room grew a bit silent at the thief’s retort, and Eisukefound himself musing on it. Baba wasn’t wrong in the least. She was very easy on the eyes, what with the wayshe smiled at him and carried herself around him. She wore the maid’s uniformalmost every single day, but he wasn’t a fool not to see that she was hidingsomething special underneath all that. He’d be a blind idiot to thinkotherwise—not that he’d ever admit it out loud, though.

“I guess she has nice legs,” Mamoru said, taking anotherdrag.

The thought of MC diligently cleaning the room, clad in herfitted, work-prescribed stockings conjured not-so-innocent images in Eisuke’smind.

“Oh, so you’ve got a thing for legs now, Mamo?” Ota teasedback.

“Shut up. You see ‘em just as much as I do.”

Her bending down,looking for something underneath a couch, her rear facing me—

“Boss?”

Baba’s voice shook Eisuke from hisdefinitely-not-work-related trance, and Eisuke had to hide his irritation, lestthe others have an inkling of his definitely-not-work-related thoughts.

“You’re oddly quiet today,” Baba noted, the smile neverleaving his face.

“Unlike some people, I have better things to think about.” Says the man thinking about her bent over.

“Really, Eisuke? We all know you think she’s cute, so don’tbother hiding it,” Ota added smugly.

“Whatever.” Like hellI’m telling you that.

Not long after, they heard a soft knock from the door, andsure enough, she had arrived for the day’s cleaning. The others stared at heras if they had seen a ghost, but she could only look back at them curiously.

Talk about bad timing—

“Uh, is there something going on?” she asked tentatively.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, MC!” Babachirped. “Don’t worry your pretty little mind about us.”

“Okay…” She didn’t look convinced, but she started cleaninganyway.

Try as he might, Eisuke couldn’t keep his eyes off her evenif he wanted to. Either Baba’s comment got to him, or he was starting to losehis wits.

Either way, he had to admit, there was one thing thatbothered him about Baba’s comment.

She’s definitely morethan just cute.

That night, Eisuke plopped down on his bed. It had been along day full of meetings that seemed to drone on and on, and he wanted nothingmore than to just sleep his troubles away. He unbuttoned the topmost buttons ofhis shirt before letting out a sigh.

This bed’s way too bigfor just one person.

Not that he wanted a smaller bed, but lately, he wasstarting to feel something every timehe saw the cold, empty side of his bed.

Without warning, the image of MC, immaculately sprawled on his bed, dressed in nothing but his shirt, appeared in his mind. Ashiver went down his spine before he begrudgingly realized that he should not be thinking those sorts of thingsabout his employee, of all people. Ugh, Baba’s rubbing off on me.

His phone buzzed next to him, and he scowled at the sound.Whoever the hell wanted to disturb him at this ungodly hour was about to get apiece of his mind. He was about to send the interloper a scathing reply when hesaw MC’s name on the screen.

Strange. He couldn’t remember the last time she texted himfor anything. Most of the time, their form of communication consisted of himpaging her, or the occasional call from him. She never initiated contact, asfar as he could recall. If he was being completely honest, it disheartened him.

Curious, he opened her message only to be met with asurprise.

“Holy shit. Holy fuckingshit.”

The “message” she had sent him wasn’t a work-related text oran innocent greeting. No, her message was the farthest thing from innocent—it was a picture of her in front ofher bathroom mirror, wearing nothing but lacy lingerie that left nothing to theimagination.

He had to refresh the message twice just to make sure itreally was her, and not some fantasy conjured by his overworked mind. No matterhow much he re-opened it, all he could see was her, clad in a lacy black bikiniset he never would’ve thought she’d dare to wear. Who knew that under her maid’suniform and her quiet countenance was a stunning body and an even bolderspirit? Mamoru may have called her a kid all the time, but the cop was a blindfool as far as Eisuke was concerned.

The real stinger was the caption that came with the photo:

[Do I look good inthis :) ?]

Good god, she’s goingto be the death of me.

Why the hell would she send him this? It feltout-of-character for someone as shy as she was, but he couldn’t find himself disappointedat the situation. In fact, if he had to say, he was almost…ecstatic, even. If this was her way coming on to him, then Eisuke wasn’tcomplaining anytime soon.

Nevertheless, he was still her boss. The rational side ofhim urged him to delete the photo and erase everything from his memory.

But, goddamn it, you’vewaited so long for an opportunity, and it looks like she made the first move.

That was also true. God knows how many lonely nights he’dspend with only his right hand as company and images of her lost in the throesof pleasure. He’d die before saying it out loud, but nothing save for her her seemed to excite him anymore. Thecompany of other women did nothing to rouse his blood, but even her mostmundane gesture sent him into a spiral of dwindling self-control.

He stared at the photo one last time. Maybe this was hisreward for months of sleeping alone. If there was a god out there, then damn,maybe he’d start praying if this was what faith got him.

Tomorrow, he’d confront her about it. For now, he desperatelyneeded a cold—no—freezing shower torelieve him of the uncomfortable tightness in his pants.

I’m seriously going tolose my mind.

Impatient as he was, Eisuke couldn’t wait for the next dayto come. He paged MC up to his office as soon as soon as he arrived thatmorning. If he was anxious or excited, he couldn’t tell at this point; all hewanted was to see MC as soon as possible. He even prepared some wine for themto hopefully get the message across.

He heard her knock on the door and beckoned her to come in. Eisukeschooled his most neutral expression while she looked adorably flustered,fiddling with the hem of her uniform.

“MC, you know why I called you in here, right?” he askedher, pouring some wine to appear casual.

She gulped before answering him.

“Is it because I accidentally sent you my nudes…?”

…What?

He froze and stopped pouring the moment he processed herwords.

“…Accidentally?” Thewords were ringing in his head as she nodded back at him. Suddenly, he wantednothing more than the ground to swallow him up and erase this memory from existence.

For a while, they both remained in painful silence. Theawkwardness was so palpable that Eisuke wondered if she wanted to hide in ahole as much as he did. Her unabashed blush seemed to indicate it.

But wait a minute, he thought. If she sent him the pictureby mistake, then that meant someone elsewas meant to receive it. As far as he could remember, she wasn’t dating anyoneat the moment.

Or was she? Shecould very well be dating one of the other auction managers right now and hewould be none the wiser.

He felt a pang of white-hot fury at the thought of one ofthem raking their eyes all over her, pressing their lips on her smooth skin,savoring the cries from her lips and—

“Mr. Ichinomiya,” she said, looking away from him. “Just…pleaseforget this ever happened. It was a complete accident, and I swear this’llnever happen again—“

“Who did you mean to send it to?”

“E—excuse me?”

“Just answer the question.” For my peace of mind.

She was still blushing, but she forced herself to speakanyway.

“…Look, I don’t know why youhave to know, but my friend gave me some lingerie as a birthday present, andshe wanted me to send her a picture to show that it fit me. Your name justhappened to be next to hers on my contact list, so…”

Eisuke inwardly let out a sigh of relief. If it had beensome cretin, god knows what he would’ve done.

“Sir, I really think you should just delete the photo andpretend this never happened.”

True, he probably should. If he were a good boss and apolite gentleman, he’d delete the photo to save them both the potential trouble(not to mention awkwardness) in the future. Then they could both resume theirlives as if nothing happened.

The only problem was he was neither of those things.

“How about this instead?” Eisuke suggested. “It’d be unfairto you if you were the only one in a compromising position. I’ll be sure toreturn the favor, then we’ll be even. Deal?”

“I really don’t understand…”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Eisuke took a long sip of his wine,easing his earlier tension.

“By the way, you didn’t look half-bad.”

If she was blushing a while ago, then she was positivelybeet red now.

“Oh, um, thank you…”

She left his office after giving a hurried bow, and Eisukecould only smirk at how his plan would come to fruition very soon.

That night, MC plopped on her own bed, dead tired from theday’s events. Today was absolutely mortifying,to say the least. She really hadn’t meant to send him the godforsaken photo,and she thought she had sealed her doom the moment she realized she sent it to Mr. Ichinomiya, of all people.

God, I really thoughtI was gonna die back there.

But the look on his face when she told him it was an accident—itwas the same look he’d always have whenever he drank someone else’s coffee. Itwas the look he had whenever he’d try to pet an animal, only to have it claw athim in retaliation.

It was, dare she say it, disappointment.

Come on. Like he’d bedisappointed by something like that.

And yet, the look on his face when she told him the picturewas meant for a friend—it was undeniably relief.

She didn’t know what to believe anymore, and there was afluttering in her stomach she couldn’t shake off. It only grew worse when sheremembered his earlier compliment.

Get it together, MC!He’s your boss, for crying out loud.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up only to see that Mr.Ichinomiya sent her a text.

After what happened, she could only feel apprehension atwhat was to come. Surely, he was going to fire her after today. God, now she neededto look for a new job, too. Great.

Shakily, her finger swiped the phone screen to open themessage.

“…What is this?”

The room suddenly became very warm, and all the blood rushedto her cheeks the moment the screen changed.

It wasn’t a brief text, but rather, a picture of himself. Hewas standing in front of his own bathroom mirror wearing only his blackboxer-briefs, giving her a delicious, unadulterated view of his lean, chiseledbuild. She had to gulp at the distinct V-line that ran down his hips and into…that place.

There was a caption that came along with the photo, and MChad to blink twice to make sure she wasn’t seeing things:

[Now we’re even. Belatedhappy birthday ;)]

Facing him tomorrow was going to be one hell of a task.

[theworstjedi]

What Happens in Hutt Domain...

Have you ever seen those holovids that where the hero wakes up to see the ceiling and there’s this loud ringing sound? Neither have I. Mostly ‘cause I can’t see. Though not for a lack of trying!

I’m the hero in this one. (Naturally), and when I woke up all I knew was that I lost time, someone had punched my jaw back into place (Thanks fer that), and I was incredibly aroused.

Hey, hey, heyyy. George. George lookit me. It’s not that kinda story. I mean if ya really wanted—okay okay come back! I’m done. Prahmise.

I’m not unused to wakin’ up sticky and sore, but I’m not usually covered in Hutt slime, blood, and like prahbably a few bad decisions.

----

“I think he’s coming to.”

Friyr licked a line of drool from his mouth that had long since dampened his shirt beneath. Funny. Considering his mouth was dry. The thick mucus strings tasted like he’d he’d sucked on a perfumed hutt.

Wait. Friyr blinked. His jaw muscle memory recalled thick blubber slicing beneath his incisors as he kicked at the floor. He’d been beat until tender and was suffocating underneath the weight of an overgrown slug and and the idocy of not knowing when to quit. Friyr wretched and coughed up another wave of mucus that slid down his chin. He smelled blood, though the distinct taste wasn’t in his mouth.

He liked to call this tenacity.

He exhaled and propped his hand against padding of the seat he was sprawled on, like some sort of inelegant ragdoll in pleather a size too tight. He had intended to push himself into a sitting position, but he groaned through his teeth instead as pain lanced through battered bones. Friyr exhaled. His chest was tight and a dull ache in his ribs promised to keel him over if he tried to find his footing.

“Aya aliyana su, Friyr. Rua khoe Su uchu ik wich'a kho p'u?”

Green. Way too much green. If she was wearing a shirt at all, it was a flimsy one. He could feel that from the soft echoes of their voices, though right now? That could’ve been the sound floating in and out of his head.

Friyr scoffed and spat foul fluid out. “Did-- did I win, Master Tabris?”

“Well, you’re not dead, so I—” The alien words still had her tongue twisted around.

“Are you proud of me?” he asked. His jaw moved awkwardly. Either the numbness in his cheek was swelling or someone had finally chipped it back into place.  

“I—Padawan, of course I’m—” as Master Tabris flustered, the sound ebbed out of Friyr’s ears in favor of a deeper ringing. He couldn’t feel his body. Taking advantage of the numbness, he moved his hand to the part of his face that was suspiciously and pleasantly hot. They came back wet from the stream of blood pouring from his left eye.

He grinned and laughed in blissful forgetfulness. He didn’t manage a wheeze before the burgeoning pain in his ribs kicked him, like a mule, and Friyr’s pretty blue eyes rolled back.

___

When he woke up next his master wasn’t there, nor was he in pleather. Someone (Tabris, likely) had stripped him out of it and replaced his normal green robes and sandals. His ears were still ringing, but the volume was much lower. He was no longer covered in hutt slime. He blinked and touched his face. Nor blood. The ceiling was a blurry gunmetal gray instead of the neon red of artificial lights. Friyr swallowed and winced around the aftertaste of Hutt butt.

“If I ever get my schutta together,” Friyr began to promise, “I’ll never ever get into a ring fight in a sketchy Wild Space bar again.”

He tested the dry words, seeing how they felt in the moment after regret, like the morning after a bad one night stand. Friyr hummed. “Probably not,” he said.

The remnants of an Imperial accent laced the last two words then fell silent. His throat felt like wind tunnel. He hurt like he’d been runover by a Harrower class Dreadnaught (ironically the model of ship that had been appropriated by the elements that had moved in when the Imperials had moved out.)

“Faaarkle,” he groaned and rubbed out a messy blotch of eyeliner and wheezed out a laugh. His ribs kicked his again, but the pain wasn’t so bad now. It’d probably been a day gauged by the fading bite of his bruises and the recalcitrant brittleness of his bones.

He pushed himself up, and the world spun. He caught himself on the arm of a couch and held in a late wave of vomit. Run over by a Harrower? Kriffed by a Gundark? …Sat on by a Hutt? Two lies one truth.

Ever since Friyr was little, he had had vivid daydreams that he remembered with a clarity he barely remembered his younger life in Kaas City’s slave barracks with. He’d entertained private fantasies of blaster slinging in the Outer Rim. The place where he thought outlaw heroes were born. The part of the Outer Rim that didn’t belong to Imperial space anyway. He was wild and free hunting bounties, taking mercenary contracts. Maybe he wasn’t the hero. Not in a classical sense anyway, but he could spin stories to the tune of those imagined adventures.

He caught the shuffling and clink of glass outside of his own sustained misery and listened to the rustle of another human being….alien? Didn’t matter. It was grounding, and Friyr couldn’t really dwell on living out some of his rough and tumble fantasies. He needed to find a Jedi’s headspace, a servant’s discipline and pick himself up. He straightened. SOmething popped; he really wasn’t in his twenties anymore, huh?            “Hulloooo~?” Friyr called out.

“That’s a bold choice of robes,” a decidedly male voice answered with a familiar undercurrent of calm that Friyr was used to finding in a certain order of monks.

“What’d ya mean?” Friyr said as he limped his way over to the bar. Oh, a three person barfight wasn’t glamourous.

Things had changed as he’d grown and reality had imposed its bleak choices on him instead. Force sensitive, low caste, and between a rock and the ire of a Sith Lord Master – Friyr had absolved debts at Korriban. No one had told him it’d cost his soul, but— he nicked a bottle from behind the counter, both eyebrows raised – Everyone made decisions. He wasn’t particularly remorseful for trading in morality to save his life. He’d…ended up in the right place? Right?

“In robing of a color that isn’t black?”

“Oh!” Friyr grinned, and it winged. “The guy who gave this t’me had a terrible thing fer green. It was all he wore. Green Jedi? Y’know?”

Friyr pressed a hand to his jaw to see if he could jank it back into the position it’d occupied before. Gratned, it had been in the wrong position before from the first person who’d forced it out of place; Friyr had just...kind of gotten used to it. The tender edges of a suspiciously deep bruise deterred him. Well. There was the answer as to why it was off its misalignment, but what specifically-- The memory of a large red woman snapping his chin upward with enough force to rocket him back to the Empire careened into his waking thoughts. Ah. Riiight.

“I’ve never met any Green Jedi. I’m of the Tython Temple. If that still stands.”

Focus, said the voice of every Jedi Master Friyr had ever had in varying degrees of patience…exasperation.

“Dunno why it wouldn’ be.” He pulled the cork out with his teeth and spat it. (Ow, jaw) Drink. The bitter cut of alcohol woke his bleary sense for a moment. Friyr wiped the spirit from his face and listened to the voice he’d made the aquiantence of. A sharp restlessness took the former Sith’s bones for better or worse. Friyr considered his options, that which was most constructive. “Are you—y’know--?” He tilted his head suggestively.

“Jedi Pathfinder Lincen Namara, of what remains of the Jedi Exploration Corps…”

“Oh, I was gonna ask if y’were gay.” Friyr took another pull and set the bottle down. “’Cause yer inna gay bar.” Friyr held out a hand. “Fryer. ‘M a padawan.”

___

“Do I want to ask where you were?”

Master Tabris’ voice had a disapproving bent from down the corridor. Friyr was…limping again, but the reason he can’t quite walk straight? That’s entirely different.

“Calm yourself!” He called out. His own voice was dangerously sober and straightened from it’s usual teasing wobble. Friyr’s head buzzed pleasantly with healing injury and… distraction, but he felt oddly in control of his own destiny at the moment.

As he met his master down the hallway his eyebrows popped up silent question. He forewent words. Her body heat was close to his and her silence was still considering his sudden reappearance and calm condition.

His head cocked. “You sound like you have more clothes on?” Indeed the reverberations of sound are crisper, not like when they echoed off of bare skin. He grimaced to bite back a reflexive smirk. He wasn’t feeling it at the moment.

“I just—you’re very quiet.” She felt his forehead, and Friyr leaned his head into the cupped hand obligingly. “And you were gone from the bar when I checked back tonight.”

“Haaa, riiight. I uh—went on a ride?”

“On an enclosed ship?” she asked skeptically. 

“Yup.” Friyr popped the ‘p.’

His makeup, the little that remained was smeared, like a teeage girl after her first broken heart. But only at the edges. Most had been cleaned off or wiped clear at this point. Friyr rocked on his heels as he parted his lips and decided on the persona he wanted to wear on the way back. He decided he didn’t particularly want to talk about it.

His mood wasn’t dark. Not at the moment. He’d safely sealed himself back inside his body and shuttered his connection from the Force. By all means he was cozy. Friyr just didn’t want to. Not before he had time to process the last seventy-two hours of his life.

“Dooon’t” he started to drawl with as much curling satisfaction he could muster. His eyes narrowed mischievously as he put on an entirely ‘you know what I did last night’ expression on the set of his brows and the quirk of his mouth. “Don’ ask questions ya don’ wan the answer to~” The hastily skewed robes, the somewhat awkward waddle, and the word ‘ride’ pieced together into perfect awful sense for his poor master in the silence that followed. His wide mouth stretched in anticipation, and Master Tabris disappoint. She groaned. Loudly.

“I don’t know why I ask.” Her boots click across the floor as she marched off, leaving Friyr to trail behind her.

Friyr chuckled. “’Cause ya caaaare about meeee,” he teased, as though her motherly attachment to him were as juvenile as a crush.

He wasn’t going to pretend they had a normal mentorship. The Sunriders... their littany of attachments made messes for them, and Master Tabris’ had hit her hard. He’d met her late husband, had heard about the littany of cheating, profession of love, held their child’s hand through the desert and caried her on his shoulders. Master Rajjaet Or’blanc was top shelf scum. Sure, Friyr had liked him for the Jedi he had been, but Friyr was also woefully aware this didn’t negate the way he’d used and abused his family. Friyr, afterall, was very much the same as a partner, better in some ways - worse in others.

Jedi weren’t made for relationships, but it was perhaps the crisis that As’traa Tabris’ old one wrecked through her middle age that suited her to Friyr. They were a mess and perhaps Friyr’s ability to own his predilections that stripped As’traa of this painful veneer of togetherness she tried to maintain when she was boiling inside.

In a way? He and Tabris were both trying to learn how to be Jedi; he just needed help more than she did.

“I don’t know why I do!” There’s the hint of a laugh in her voice.

“’m glad y’came with me…” he tried for instead. Sobriety returned now that she’d been deflected from his personal affairs.

“I—I am too Padawan.” Tabris’ voice cracked, and Friyr understood in the deepest recesses of his soul why. He felt sorry for her, a man removed from his own heartache looking in on anothers.

They walked in silence for long moments of durasteel and litter crunching on retreating boots.

“’M goin’ to remake my lightsaber. The one I have now.”

“I’m proud of you, padawan,” she said again, and Friyr gave her a difficult smile but an appreciative one nonetheless.

[meapistrash]

Blackout - Teen Titans Fanfic

Original post date (on FFN): 21/1/2017 Prompts are the ines in bold!

A/N: Based on the CN’s Teen Titans (2003) with elements of the pre/post-crisis Teen Titans comics. Totally unrelated to Teen Titans N52 and Rebirth comics.

“Titans, where are you? This is ’s a city wide blackout caused by a gang of prison escapees. Rendezvous at the power station, ASAP!

”Titans, respond!“ Robin screamed into the comm, desperately awaiting an answer that never came. He was willing to try once more, but thought against it as he pocketed the device and shoved his head into his biker helmet. Without wasting another second for his team, he pulled on the gas and made his way from downtown Jump City to the outskirts.

14 minutes earlier.

Beast Boy - or rather Garfield - was having a rather wonderful time beating his online friends on his PlayStation as he listened to them screaming at each other. And it also made him forget that he had been playing since noon and it was well pass seven pm and has not seen the light of day since he had gone down for breakfast. One would imagine that Raven would probably not mind, because the lack of his presence made her meditation so much easier. She didn’t, until she found that it was impossible to move him from his spot if he had been there video gaming for over two hours straight.

Blame her for not being able to cook and hide in the kitchen instead of being tasked with calling him for dinner.

“Garfield.”

He continued to stare at the screen, completely oblivious to the humming of the metal doors that slid close behind Raven.

“It’s dinner time,” she stated simply, yet still getting no response slightly annoyed her. She opted to try again, “Garfield, are you even listening?”

He tilted his head slightly to the empath, eyes still glued to the game, “What? Oh yeah, okay Rae. I’ll get to it.”

Raven huffed, she could believe that Garfield can live off video games alone, “Don’t complain if you’ll be eating cold leftovers.”

“Uh huh! Okay Raven!”

She turned around, ready to leave room when suddenly the lights around the room flickered and all went dark. The lights, the doors, and including the television and Playstation also shutted down, causing a boy who was previously very engrossed in the game scream out, “What!? What is this? I was in the middle of a game! Are you serious? Ra-”

“I didn’t cause this.”

“-ven did you… Oh, oops, natural assumption, you know, because you have creepy black magic,” Garfield scratched his neck guiltily. “Sorry.”

He suddenly felt like a big douche, despite the assumption being something that Raven rather deemed water under the bridge almost immediately. But someone as loud and boisterous as Beast Boy would know well words could hurt, especially for Raven who had tried so hard to fit into the team. He also knew well because he hid behind the happy words he speaks sometimes - it was facade that he can see a lot of people don.

The empath moved to the door, pressing the buttons to no avail, “Doesn’t the tower have an emergency power supply?”

“Uh, I guess? But I think Vic kinda needed to fix something so maybe now it’s not connected?” he finally got up from his chair, and with his arms raised in front of him, he tried to navigate his way to the door. People would assume that Beast Boy could see in the dark because of course there are numerous nocturnal animals he can turn into, but he can’t. For the same reason why Raven can’t go through the door. And so Garfield tripped with a loud yelp.

“What are you trying to do?” Raven asked, unimpressed and perhaps even a bit of amusement in her voice, but of course no one would be able to detect it.

“Rae, how are you able to see in the dark?”

“I’m half-demon, Garfield. I lived in my father’s realm - where it could be pitch black for an entire week at a time - for almost half my life.”

After the fiascos in which Garfield managed to jump through the floor transformed as an elephant, Victor accidentally blasting a hole in the wall whilst tinkering with his blasters and Koriand'r almost burning her room, it was safe to say that the entire team decided to just put power dampeners or protections in the walls - or others’ sake. Even the windows won’t break - not that Garfield’s room had any to break.

“Oh, right. More things I don’t know about you,” he laughed, but she can’t help but feel like it was a jab at her closed off nature - so different to his that she sometimes wonders if the reason why it still feels like they’re acquaintances is because he possibly resents her.

The boy smirked and raised an eyebrow suggestively - almost seductively for the fun of it - knowing that she can see him, “But that can be fixed easily, right Rae?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late!” he laughed and plopped back on the couch. He was entirely talking to the dark, and it was kind of eerily creepy, he supposed, because he can’t imagine seeing Raven and her hood out of nowhere - it would scare him to death. But a sense of reassurance was also there, because at least he knows she would save him, were the circumstances calling for it.

He sighed, “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

An awkward silence fell between them, well, at least, awkward for Garfield. Raven was very used to silence and hence thought to sit and meditate away the time. But the poor girl surely would not be able to with the loudest person on the team fidgeting in the same room. He could practically fill the room with his head scratching noise alone.

“Garfield,” she said, but her warning tone was lost to his ears.

“Yeah?”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop making so much noise.”

“Oh, sorry,” he laughed a bit.

A few more moments of silence, and he spoke up a again, “It could be worse.”

“Really? Humour me,” he heard a monotonic response.

“The tower could be under attack and we’re totally being useless.”

It was then that Raven realised he could not detect any of her sarcasm. She opened her eyes to glare, which was oblivious to the changeling because he was completely blind.

“Dinner could be burning and it’s not me that did it, could be another horrible thing.”

“No dinner. How terrible.”

“Yeah! Or we could be arch enemies trying to kill each other,” he chuckled. “I mean it’s not like you don’t already hate me with your gut.”

Raven’s eyes widened to observe the changeling’s posture. He was relaxed, head resting on the couch’s pillow, arms draped lazily over his stomach and over the edge of the couch. He was closing his eyes, as if contemplating, and he held a smile, but it was sad - like the ones she would make when faking her own emotions. She asked, “You think I hate you?”

“Well, it’s kinda obvious, Rae. I mean, I know I can’t please everyone, but you kinda made it to the top of the list of people that hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

Garfield thought he was delusional for once, “What?”

“I don’t hate you,” she simply repeated.

“Look if you’re trying to lie to make me feel better-”

“Garfield. I really don’t hate you. Why would I? You’ve never really given me a good reason to.”

“Really, Rae. I would hope for you to be at least honest to me about-”

“You annoy me, yes. You’re too loud a lot of the tim-”

“And you hate me.”

“ - but hate is too strong of a word to use, Gar.”

Garfield was speechless, and he was hardly ever speechless if one knew him well enough to know. And those that knew him well enough also knew he had tried very hard to befriend the empath. Everyday was difficult because he would wake up everyday thinking about how he could just make Raven stop hating him - despite telling himself so many times that he really shouldn’t care about what others think of him. And so it was a mix between his attempts annoying her and humouring her, though the former seemed to be more doable.

It seemed too fake to hear her say what he had believed for so long. Yet, his mind screamed at the same time that she was telling the truth. Even the nickname - “Gar” - sounded strange yet right from her mouth.

“Gar,” she almost whispered. “I’m sorry if I ever made you think I hate you.”

He sat up, head facing towards the direction of her voice, and he smiled - the first genuine one for her, “Clearly we didn’t communicate our feelings at all.”

“I’m an empath. I try not to express things.”

“Point being, Rae… We’re both to blame.”

“You? Garfield, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just a stubborn ass and-”

“Let’s just not argue about who’s worse than the other. Cool?” he held out a fistbump in the dark, and to his surprise, felt a nudge against his knuckles.

“Okay,” Raven replied with the edge of her lips lifting into a slight smile.

It was almost as if their resolve had magically turned the lights back on, but it was actually just the rest of the other three titans member finally managing to apprehend the villain and allowing the workers from the power station to finally fix things.

“Argh!” Garfield screamed as the light bursted on, and he blinked to adjust his eyes slowly. When he can finally see, he realised he was alone in the room, his door closed and it was as if Raven was never there. He left the room, then, and went into the kitchen to eat the long forgotten dinner.

He washed his hands, then sat down by the stool. He picked up his tofu hamburger and gave a cheeky grin, “So, does that mean we’re friends?”

The cloaked black haired girl give him a side glance and rolled her eyes, “Don’t push your luck.”

And for once, silence was comforting to them both.

“What happened to Beast Boy and Raven?” Robin asked as he walked towards his bike.

“I asked her to call him down for dinner, and then the power shut off,” Kori replied.

Cyborg seemed to go slightly cold and the response, “Oh man, you guys realise what this means?”

“What?” the other two Titans looked curiously at him.

“They were probably stuck together… in. One. Room, for the entire time we were fighting.”

Robin raised his eyebrow confusingly, then only to realise the implications and raised his crossed fingers, “Let’s hope the tower is still intact when we get back.”

They did not expect for the last members of their team to be having a quiet conversation. What’s even more confusing was that Raven was smiling every once in awhile and Garfield was truly laughing. And Robin’s face was suddenly plastered with its own smile at the sight.

(until Cyborg barged in and ruined it of course.)