#that being said if anyone is bored and looking for a fanfic prompt feel free to use this

[cresneta]

Don't mind me, I'm just imagining a scenario where Loid does something amazing for Yor's birthday, and when she asks him when his birthday is he says it was a couple months ago or something. Think of it as a twist on the classic scenario where the man forgets, or doesn't know about, a date that is important to his partner, and they get mad at him about it.

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You

Genre: Romance , Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,1K

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Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?) 

*Not all chapters have these but I’m letting this like general because as a series I think it’s better if I warn all of them at once instead of warning out of nowhere since I’ve already written some chapters*

Notes: The “Angst/Hurt/Confort” is related to the plot and how the characters will build their relationship, therefore it’ll be mentioned more than once through the chapters. Although I don’t think I made it really distressing nor anything like that, please be aware of the Warnings if you don’t feel comfortable with the themes <3

This is an EXTREMELY slow burn, if you don’t like those, I don’t think you’ll enjoy the fanfic  :’(

Updates: I’ll update it once a week because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

                                                    ////

   Hate: a) To feel extreme enmity towards something or someone: Regard with active hostility; b) To have a strong aversion: Find very distasteful.

   Regarding all emotions someone could ever feel, you didn’t think something could be more powerful than hatred.

    What in the world could be more powerful than disliking someone to the point you couldn’t even stand their presence? It meant you would prefer to leave rather than stay. Nothing could ever beat that. Nothing. People could do insane things moved by it. Things no one should ever think about doing nor do at all for that matter. Things that could hurt and destroy everything around someone’s life.

   Even though common sense stated love was blind, you thought that maybe hate was blinder… Maybe hate was the one who blinded love. Who knew? You were sure hatred moved people to do the undoable. So what could be a better answer to your professor’s question? What was the most powerful feeling in the world?

   “Fear” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. You didn’t know if it was the black hair, the dark eyes, or that pretty face everyone felt the urge to ogle but somehow Hyunjin had that funny effect on people around him. It was like people needed to hear him, like he held some kind of mesmerizing voice that made people believe he was a wise man on a young body.

   He wasn’t.

   “How is fear greater than hate?” You scoffed, wondering why people looked at him like he knew what he was talking about “I never saw someone actively doing something because of fear but people actually make decisions based on hatred” You pointed out, smirking at him. Hyunjin couldn’t possibly retort you because you were right, and sooner or later he would have to admit it.

   “I believe you didn’t quite understand the professor’s question, my dear” He had this ridiculous accent like he was British when he clearly wasn’t, and you couldn’t help but grimace at him before he continued “He asked what is the most powerful emotion not what emotion prompt people to do something… I must say that if an emotion paralyzes you to the point you can’t make a decision ─ as you pointed out yourself─ it must be quite powerful, don’t you agree?” He had that smug look on his face, suggesting he thought he had won your argument, and you would gladly wipe that smug grin out of there if Paris didn’t interrupt you.

   “Excuse me but I think it’s love” Her voice sounded polite even though you knew she thought Hyunjin was being dumb “If fear is something that paralyzes someone and that is your argument for power, I think love can beat fear, so it’s obviously more powerful” She stated, not bothering to defend her arguments.

  Typical Paris.

   “In what world love beats fear?” He jeered, looking at her as if she was growing a third head “I’m sorry to disappoint you, darling, but life isn’t a fairy-tale” He pouted mockingly.

  What a despicable guy.

  “It’s well known that love can make someone so eager to protect another thing that you could simply ignore your fears and get stronger. Mothers can lift a car to free their child, soldiers can fight harder if they have someone to go back to! And if you consider the paralyzing feeling, knowing love can beat this would mean it’s stronger than fear… When you love you can do or give up on doing things just to be able to protect something you love” She stated proudly before you looked at your professor expecting his verdict.

   Like on cue, the bell rang, announcing your class was over.

   And so did he, waving dismissively to all of you to go.

   Great, so it was a kind of philosophical game for him.

   Your pointless argument ended up with nothing but a bunch of opinions you couldn’t say was right; and when it came to insisting on being right there was just one person in this world you could say you almost hated… Hyunjin. He came to you with his signature─ a smug grin that made you want to punch his face every day─, getting in your way to pack your things as he picked up one of your pencils, spinning it between his fingers. You didn’t even make the effort to ask it back, settling for extending your palm up, so he would give it back to you.

   “Paris may have a point but I beat you” Should you punch his face for real someday? Probably not. You should keep good grades and a perfect image so you could keep your scholarship. What a pity. You shook your hand once, a silent ask for your pencil again, and this time he put it on your palm, leaning closer as he braced himself on the desk, trying to be seductive or something “What? Are you so upset you lost to me you don’t even want to talk anymore?” He said in a mocking tone that made you glare at him.

   “Even when I’m right I don’t want to talk to you” You reminded him, throwing your bag’s strap on your shoulder “Let’s go, Paris, Chan said He was going to have lunch with us today” You took her hand and guided her to the door, walking fast so you could leave Hyunjin behind but he, unfortunately, was right on your tail.

   “It’s funny because I recall you bragging every time you’re right and I’m not hearing it now” He said, easily picking up your pass, since his legs were way longer than yours “I guess you don’t want to talk to me because you lost again” Oh god, how could he be so insufferable?! You trailed your eyes around the stairs, looking for Chan on the crowd.

   Thankfully, there he was.

   Chan was a fine guy, as anyone with two functioning eyes could see or at least guess since a lot of girls were staring at him. He was waiting in the corner, his arms crossed on his chest and his bored eyes looking at the floor while he waited for you, his dark hair falling on his eyes, obliging him to run his fingers into his locks, looking charming in the eyes of the girls ogling him. You chuckled as you saw him eyeing them disgusted, clearly bothered by people looking at him doing nothing like he was some kind of idol or something.

   “Hey, Sweety!” You shouted, making him roll his eyes at the nickname that symbolized your friendship. It was the first name you ever called him, a sarcastic remark for the typical rich guy he was, a pretty and spoiled bastard.

   The circumstances you met weren’t the best ones but somehow they worked in your favor.    

   You were working hard on pilling some boxes ─ all of them with a “fragile” sticker that made you very aware about the possibility of losing your job if you dropped one of them─, so it was only natural you were pissed as hell when someone dropped all of them at once. As if he didn’t have anything better to do, Chan stood with his right hand raised to blame, a smirk plastered on his face as he said “Ops! Sorry, Sweety” making his dumb friends laugh at you.

    You couldn’t say you were a typical rich girl especially because you were, in fact, quite poor, so your antics were totally justified by the need you had to keep your job on your hands and change your paradigm.

   It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone with a brain but he had to pay for the losses.

      So you shot him a tight smile when you saw him walking to the exit and said “Don’t forget to pay for those, Sweety”, making him shot a brow at you. You remembered clearly the way he got close to you, declaring with that cocky attitude you hated “Do you know who I am?” as if it would make any difference. You shoved him on the wall, losing your composure, and hissing at him that you didn’t care, and he should pay for it unless he was some kind of hallucination of your head.

   He came back every day after that.

   It has been four years since you two became friends against all the odds; and as a rich kid himself, Chan often paid for your meals, claiming your sorry ass should be thanking him instead of scoffing. You couldn’t help but nudge him with your elbow as soon as you got next to him, making him nudge you back as Paris clasped her hands together, her eyes beaming at your interaction.

   “It’s so beautiful how you guys love each other!” Paris couldn’t see you interacting with another human being without believing you were in love, and although it kinda annoyed you, you tried to overlook it since she didn’t have much more to hold a grudge against. She had been your roommate for the past three years at the dorms, and even though she was a hopeless romantic and annoyed the hell out of you to get together with someone, that was pretty much her only great flaw.

   You remembered perfectly how you thought your life was over once you met her.

   Your first impression of the dorm was awful as you got there and saw the overly pink and cute stuff hanging all around the place as she tried to organize everything in her room. She didn’t have much stuff but all her stuff was vibrant and girly to the point it hurt your eyes.

   You didn’t complain.                                                    

    You put your bag on the floor, looking at her with a grimace as she beamed to meet her new friend. You could say you hated to live with her in the beginning, her carefree self was annoying and her overly friendly antics pissed you off as she always asked you to do things together, watch movies, and eat, and talk and... Well, anything you didn’t want to do with someone you just met. On top of all, she was somewhat lazy and didn’t do much, which ended up with you doing all the chores.

   If you were to be fair, you were the one wearing out yourself, really.

   Everything changed on a particularly exhausting day.

   You had to be a damn good juggler on that week, working yourself until you couldn’t even think about anything clearly. You were like a zombie. A workaholic zombie. You had to go to classes, get your work done, do your assignments, clean up the dorm, study your ass off for the exams, pretend to be a normal human being by socializing with people… Well, basically you were pretty busy on being perfect as you expected you to be. It was obvious that after all your exams were finally done and you got out of work you needed to relax as soon as you got home.

    You fixed yourself something to eat, turned on the TV, crashed on the couch to watch something, and just blacked out right there.

   When you woke up on the next day’s afternoon, you got a cozy feeling above you, some fluffy blanket was thrown around your body, making you warm and peaceful. You shot your body up, sitting on the couch and looking around, alarmed, just to see the TV turned off, the dishes cleaned, the dorm tidy, and your bubbly roommate folding the clothes. You got up from the couch quickly and made a bow, apologizing profusely for being a mess and letting everything out of place on the night before. She scoffed, shrugging it off by waving her hand and said something around “I know you like to do the chores but you wore out yourself this week, you should take a break! You’re not being a burden! Isn’t helping each other out what friends do?” and it made you gasp before smiling.

    You didn’t think of her as a friend back then but it did change that day.

    “It would be even more beautiful if you didn’t try to make us swallow up your need to a nonexistent love between us every time I take you guys out” Chan pointed out, grimacing at her. You couldn’t say Chan and Paris got along even though you tried to make them friendly towards each other but you couldn’t blame Chan for being an ass since you weren’t any better to his friend.

   “So you’re taking us out to lunch? Wonderful!” Hyunjin beamed in sarcasm, knowing too well you would complain. You rolled your eyes and looked at Chan as you guys started to walk, getting on your way to his car so he could take you wherever he was planning to go.

  “It’s called a friendly gathering for a reason, Hyunjin… It means only friends can come” You feigned sympathy, pressing your lips together and looking at him with apologetic eyes. He scoffed at you and nudged Chan on the shoulder, resting his hand there as you walked.

   “I’m his friend too! He’s paying so I can go as a friend unless you want to pay for everyone, then I will have to retreat” He argued, an almost unnoticeable smirk on his lips. You pouted, turning to Chan to complain but he seemed to not pay attention to your childish argument, ignoring you as he looked straight ahead, unbothered.

   “He’s right” He stated before you could whine, showing that he was indeed hearing your conversation. Chan had this habit of pretending not to pay attention to you just to state something that showed he was tuned with everything even though he looked bored, and it always seemed to amaze you. He was a sneak little prick. You whined at him, complaining randomly so he would give up on his idea but he wasn’t buying it, pretty much ignoring you.

  “You’re rich! You don’t even need him to pay for you” You decided to complain to Hyunjin, who just shot you an amused look, scoffing.

   “You work! You don’t need it either” He pointed out, making you sigh. You looked at Paris for support but she was watching the world absent-mindedly, humming something she probably had come up with on the walk, testing over and over again some tune she seemed to like and picking up her phone quickly, recording it and sending it to you so she could save it. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and sighed.

  What great friends you had.

  “Oh! Are you going to come to Han’s game?” She asked suddenly, looking at you excited “He even said if he couldn’t score a point for us this time he would treat us afterward!” You laughed at her enthusiasm, shaking your head in disbelief.

  “Was he laughing when you took the deal?” You asked and she seemed to think hard about it, her fingers gripping her chin as she frowned, trying to recall her conversation with your mutual friend. As soon as she remembered it, she smiled and nodded, making you snort “That’s because he’s a Líbero, Paris, they can’t score any points… He was hitting on you” You explained, her eyes shining in realization.

   “He pranked me!” She uttered, laughing.

   “If you actually paid attention to his explanations you would have guessed it” You pointed out, making Chan snort “Are you coming?” You asked him but Chan shot you a pointed look.

   “Do I look like the kind of guy who would go to a volleyball match?” He asked mockingly, making you shrug.

  “You don’t look like the kind of guy who spends your time with dumbasses but here we are going to eat with one” You retorted, glancing over your shoulders so Hyunjin knew you were talking about him. You finally made it to the car. Chan clicked his key’s button, unlocking his car from afar before you got there, opening the door, and getting inside with a cool motion that made you laugh. He was so playboyish!

   “I wasn’t even doing anything right now” Hyunjin complained as he got himself on the front seat in the same way Chan did, trying to look cool. You snorted at him, getting in the car and sliding to the side so Paris could get in beside you “Is it just to get my attention?” He teased, looking over his shoulder, getting startled at your face so close to his, your arms were resting on Chan’s sit, your chin resting on your arm as you looked ahead, watching as your friend backed up.

   You didn’t hate Hyunjin or something like this, you both just teased each other every time you could. You weren’t really fond of his antics since he was just a playboy that didn’t care about anything apart from him ─ and you weren’t really the kind to feel comfortable around dickheads─, so your friendship just wasn’t meant to happen. You could tolerate him well enough when he wasn’t pissing you off at classes though. You could say you both were academic rivals, extremely smart students that liked to overcome the other by doing witty remarks and good work…

    It wasn’t about being the best student, you didn’t believe in such a thing, it was about being better than him, and he wanted to be better than you.

    You could remember clearly the first time you met.

    He was a cocky guy back then too.

    He sat right next to you even though there were tons of available seats, his smirk suggesting he wasn’t really the friendly type, so he could only be there flirting. You rolled your eyes. He tried to chat with you, talking about him and how he was taking that psychology elective because the other ones seemed too easy for him. You nodded, not really listening to his monologue, and opened your notebook as soon as the Professor came in, presenting himself and giving you a deep question that made you contemplate in silence before you answered it proudly. He scoffed. He scoffed right on your face as he retorted you, and you retorted him back, and then he retorted you again… Your endless arguing conquered a proud clap from your Professor.

    You, on the other hand, conquered a rival.

   Later that week Chan invited you to see his new place, an apartment he rented with a friend even though both of them could easily live by themselves… You could never understand them. You arrived ranting about your classes, bringing the “smartass” issue as soon as you remember, and complaining about that guy that would seat beside you twice a week.

    You regret till this very day the way you said he was a hot and annoying guy because at this very moment he showed up on his sweatpants, using a towel to dry his hair as some drops fell onto his shirtless chest. He smirked at you, teasing you by saying “Hot, hm? So you were just playing hard to get. I like it” as he leaned on the wall, hanging the towel on his shoulder and making fun of you about it till this very day.

   “Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Paris was waving her hand right in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention. You shot your eyes to her, startled, smiling apologetically “We’re here” She announced, making you realize Chan was parking, a huge and presumably expensive restaurant standing there in all its glory.

   You would need to work at least to your death to be able to pay for breathing the air inside it.

  “Holy shit, are you rich?” You asked in disbelief, shock getting the better of you as you completely forgot who you were talking about. Chan grimaced at you like you were his dumb but lovingly friend, and you shot him a glare as soon as you composed yourself.

   Let Chan spend his money mindlessly and he would bankrupt his family.

                                                              ////

   You weren’t exactly the sport type but being on the grandstand together with a bunch of people you never talked to, all of you gathering by the same will to defeat the enemy… It just made its way to your mind somehow. You cheered loudly, booing at the opponents' team and their fans while clapping hard at your own team, shouting your lungs out every time Han made a good play, which was pretty often if you were fair.

   If anyone asked you when you made it to college if you would be going to games and cheering for your team, you would laugh on their faces… In fact, that was exactly what you did the first time Han asked you if you were going to his game, amused by his innocence. You two met because Paris was majoring in Music and He decided to take some music classes, which got him an invitation to a party Paris decided to throw on a Friday night.

   It was kind of cute how he was so flustered there, taking your offer for a glass of whatever Paris had mixed to serve as a drink with trembling hands. He was one of the first guys you had the pleasure to analyze as an aspiring psychologist, the clear signals of an awkward guy around the girl he had a crush all over his face: Pink cheeks, stuttering, exaggerated gesticulation, high pitched voice, inability to stay still as he swift his weight side to side, nervous eyes looking around the room…

    The poor boy was on edge, his eyes resting on Paris from time to time as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words.

    Although he was a player in the court, he was far from that on real life and you found it cute.

   You remembered how he winced startled as you patted his shoulder, he looked like a little squirrel stocking his cheeks with alcohol just so he could gulp it down and choke, confused at your knowing look. He ended up being Paris’ partner for most of their projects, obviously trying to get some alone time with her, even though she always called you to listen to their compositions, blowing his plans. All that hanging out and his friendly behavior began a loose friendship, where you went to watch his games with Paris and you two went to watch Paris’s performances, your little alliance being settled so you wouldn’t feel excluded.

   That was how thoughtful he was.

   Paris screamed, hyped by your team score, and you followed her, standing up and cupping your mouth to scream his name, his eyes searching for both of you in the crowd, a bright smile when his eyes connected to yours. You waved at his way, getting a wave as an answer before he had to focus again on his match.

   As soon as the game ended, you both waited as the sea of people made their way out of the grandstand, mostly hyped for some afterward party that certainly would be happening somewhere. You and Paris made your way to the court, waiting for Han to come back from the locker room while chatting about the game. It took him some time to take his bath and get ready, and he came out of the locker room along with some friends that patted his back and complimented his plays, waving him goodbye as soon as they saw us waiting, knowing you wouldn’t go to the party.

   “Y/N told me you can’t score a point as a Libero” Was the first thing Paris said, chuckling, making Han cackle up.

   “You should know it by now! You came to literally every game I played for… Two years? It’s insane! What did you think? That I was a terrible player?” Paris grinned sheepishly and this time you cackled up.

   “It seems like your partner doesn’t believe in your abilities” You pointed out, making him snort “Anyway, I heard you would be paying if you didn’t score anything, so it’s on you today, loser” Han grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders, pulling both of you closer as he guided you.

   “I can offer you the best hot dog in town” He agreed “Maybe even a soda if we all share it” Paris laughed, holding his wrist as she walked along with him, you took the hint to take his arm off your shoulders and let them have their moment, missing the way he pouted when you broke away the contact.

   “I can pay for our drinks” You offered, making Han gasp in mock chock.

   “Rich, aren’t we?” He joked, getting a light push on the shoulder as an answer.

   “I work for a reason, moron” You rolled your eyes “Now let’s split that bill” You smiled as the three of you made your way to your favorite hot-dog stand on campus.    

[sweetiepie08]

RebelZ (Chapter 9)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

“Care to tell us what the fuck that was?” the Dib shouted as they ran down the hall.

“A coup, obviously,” Zim shot back. “Just not one where you seize power at the end. So, half a coup.”

“So then who seizes power now?”

“The Tallest Red and Purple still have it,”

Dib nearly tripped over his own feet in his shock. “You mean you didn’t kill them?”

“It’s nearly impossible to poison an Irken,” Tak explained. “The PAK filters out most toxins. You can incapacitate them, though, for a short period of time.”

“So you basically just quit your job in spectacular fashion,” Dib said indignantly.

Tak almost couldn’t believe it. Zim must be sincere in his betrayal. He poisoned the Tallest and declared to the entire upper crust of the Irken military that it was intentional. There was no coming back from that. Every other disaster he caused could reasonably be argued as a mistake. But there could be no doubt here. Zim truly had turned on the empire.

Yet, something still didn’t sit quite right with her. If he had gone rebel, if he had truly turned traitor, then his life clock would have gone off like hers did. One would reasonably assume the impotence for this betrayal was her discovery of the Control Brains parasite, but she was with him ever since she told him that news and she never saw his life clock go off. But that could only mean something else prompted him at an earlier date. So the question was, what made Zim finally snap?

They came to a split in the hallway. Tak started going right while Zim went left.

“Uh, the Voot is this way,” Tak called.

“I’m not going to the Voot,” Zim yelled back. “I’m going to the control room.”

Dib and Tak cast each other a glance, then followed him. They found him crouched behind a door at the end of the hall and joined him in his hiding spot. Dib took a peak inside. There, dozens of Irkens worked at their stations. They seemed unaware that, for now, their leaders were incapacitated.

Zim tapped his PAK and a metal ball flew into his hands. He pulled a pin, tossed it in, and smashed the control panel, shutting the door. They heard coughing from the other side and, after a few minutes, opened the door to find the Irkens unconscious on the floor.

“So, what are we doing in here again?” Dib asked, as they stepped into the room.

Zim grabbed one of the Irkens who still slouched in their chair and threw them to the floor. “Wiping Urth off the navigation map.” He sat down and the monitor and started messing with the buttons. “If I’m going to continue to use it as my home base, I can’t have them finding it.”

“Not so fast,” Tak slapped his fingers away from the buttons. “Before this goes any further, I need answers. If you’re truly on our side, there’s only one way your life clock didn’t go off.”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“You had a rebellious thought!” Tak declared. “When?”

“Three Urth years ago.”

“Three years?” Dib shouted, stepping up to them. “But I’ve been watching you. Why were you still trying to conquer Earth if you kinda-quit three years ago?”

“I wasn’t.”

“But I saw you building machines!” Dib argued.

“They weren’t for me!” Zim shot back.

Tak began to ask “But how-” before Zim cut her off.

“Silence!” he shouted. “Silence your questions! I need to concentrate.”

Zim continued typing on the buttons until a picture of the Earth appeared on the screen. The stats were scarce, save for the coordinates and the note, ‘that place where Zim is.’ The little blue ball of dirt and water had gone unnoticed by the empire, noteworthy only as a banishment site. To them, it was merely a place to keep Zim contained, far away from anything important. But after the stunt they pulled today, it would be a target.

Another few clicks of a button and the Urth was gone, leaving only a blank file in its wake. All Irken military ships automatically synced with the Massive. If it was gone from this data base, it was essentially invisible to all Irkens. If they wanted to find Urth again, they’d have to scour the universe for it. But why stop at Urth?

“Let’s dump it all,” Tak said.

“What?”

“Erase the database,” she said. “It’ll be a crippling blow to the empire.”

“Do we really have time to erase everything?” Dib asked. The human made a good point.

“Jut the maps then,” she suggested. “They would have to rebuild their navigation systems from scratch and it would send the fleet into disarray.”

“Zim is no radical!” Zim snapped. “I’m only doing this to cover my own ass.”

“Not a raical?” Dib scoffed. “You just poisoned your own leaders.”

“That was personal,” Zim argued. “This is political.”

“And what about those weapons you’re building?!” Dib shot back. “If they’re not for Irk, then who are they for?”

“Zim’s business deals are none of your… um… business!”

“Shut up!” Tak commanded, taking a seat at another monitor. “We don’t have time for this! Let’s get these maps erased and get out of here.”

“If you even make it that far,” a chorus of voices answered.

Dib looked around. “Who said that?”

“We did, human.”

Every Irken in the room rose to their feet. Tak prepared herself for a fight. Her eyes darted as she watched them all, poised to deploy the weapons in her PAK. But none made a move to attack. They all stood there, stalk still, with a dead look in their eyes.

Dib gaped at the sight. “H-how are you…”

“Silence Urth Creature!” the possessed Irkens shouted in unison, turning their cold eyes toward Dib. “Do not interrupt us again!” Dib shut his mouth and the Irkens calmed. “Congratulations defectives” they said, now addressing Zim and Tak. “It’s been centuries since we had to resort to total override, but mark our words, you will pay for this waste of food.”

“What do you care for waste?” Tak spat back at them. “You throw Irken lives away every day in your conquest.”

“A calculated cost to bring me more to feed from in the long term,” the Irkens explained with their eerily monotone voices. “You should know about calculated risks. Don’t forget, we see everything you do.”

“When have I ever sacrificed good soldiers?”

Every possessed Irken in the room wore the same mocking smirk. “All through your training days. Don’t you remember? We saw everything you did, every little cheat to get ahead.”

The Irkens tapped buttons on their control boards and soon, every monitor showed various scenes from Tak’s training years. “Electrodes hidden in your boots to cripple race opponents. Stealing test answers and planting them in a rival’s locker after copying them for yourself. You got top scores on your exams and excelled at your drills, but is it really victory if you have to sabotage your competitions? Oh sure, you studied and trained, but it never felt like enough, did it? Never thought you could win a fair fight. Had to tear someone else down first. Maybe, if it weren’t for all your cheating, we’d have let you make up your Elite ranking test. After all, we allowed everyone else who was inconvenienced by the blackout to take it.” Their smirks grew as they twisted the knife further. “Just not you.”

Tak ground her teeth together as she watched the images play out on the screen. There was no denying them. The monitors played footage from her own memory bank. They showed her and everyone else who she really was. She work so hard. She clawed her way to the top and did everything she could to stay there. But it was all a lie. And now they knew it. What was worse, Zim knew it. That little pain in the ass managed to make it to elite the first time, even while being a walking disaster, and he never had to deliberately cheat. The idea of him lording that over her was enough to make her blood boil.

“Perhaps you can prove everyone wrong, though,” the Irken voices went on. “Take the honest route for once in your life. Tell Zim what you learned on your little trip to Refirencee. Tell him what you suspect.”

“Fool!” Zim scoffed. “Zim already accessed Tak’s memories. I know everything she knows about the Control Brain parasite.”

“Yes, you saw the same books. But did you reach the same conclusions?”

“Guys! Don’t you see what it’s doing?” The Dib burst in. “It’s distracting you. It’s keeping you here until your leaders recover. Let’s erase those maps and get out of here!”

“Silence!” Zim snapped at Dib, then turned back to the dead-eyed Irkens. “Tell Zim what you know, creepy hive-mind…thing!”

“Have you ever wondered why you’re such a failure? Why you destroy everything you touch? Why, no matter what you do, everything always blows up in your face? It’s because you have no choice in the matter. It’s what you were made for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before we push for something big, we require extra sustenance. We take this sustenance in what some have called a blood toll. On our first planet, we made many mistakes, one was asking our hosts directly for sacrifices. We know better now.”

“Ans what does this have to do with me?” Zim growled impatiently.

“Since the beginning of our reign, one PAK has been passed down through generations, carrying a suppressed impulse for destruction. We need only to activate it and we have our blood toll. Clearly our PAK has become quite damaged over the years. It no longer works quite right. You’re so defective, you couldn’t even declare your name right.”

The screen flashed the name Zim across it. It then reversed the letters and spread them out to reveal an acronym. ZIM became MIZ. And MIZ became Massacre Initiator Z.

“You were supposed to live as a low-ranking drone until we activated your destructive impulse and die in the disaster. You, however, defied us at every turn. We kept you alive out of sheer curiosity. We wanted to see how your life would play out. It’s been entertaining, however, you’ve become too great a burden to bare.”

Zim stood motionless, staring straight ahead. They waited for the typical Zim outburst of “lies!” or declaring his greatness, but nothing came. His eyes looked as dead as the possessed Irkens around them. He said nothing, did nothing. As much as Tak couldn’t stand Zim’s obnoxious voice or erratic behavior, watching him be so still was chilling.

Tak’s antenna perks at the sound of footsteps trooping down the hall. The Dib’s head darted for the door. “Guy! Come on! We’re out of time!”

Tak smacked Zim’s lifeless body away from the control panel. “Do you think you can stop us by getting into our heads?”

“Oh simple Tak,” the Irkens sighed. “We've lived in your heads since you were fitted with your packs.”

Tak sneered at them. “I cut you off for me and I won't rest until every Irken is free of you.”

“Please, you worked your whole life to get our attention. You finally have it. Do you want to throw that away? Perhaps we can find a place with someone of your drive and ingenuity.”

“Liars!” Did they think she was stupid? She knew as well as it that treason of this scale would never go unpunished. Even if they tried to appease her with a higher rank or a cushy job, it’d only be a matter of time before they got rid of her. But even the fact that it was trying to negotiate meant something. She was a threat to it, and she would stay a threat until the day she died.

“We you know you, Tak. You’re a plotter. You won't do anything rash.”

They don’t know me half as well as they think. “Want a bet?” She started hitting buttons on the control board. An alert came up on the screen and the voice blared from the speakers. “All maps queued for deletion. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

She hit one more button and the screen went black. “Deletion successful.”

“Take that you parasite bitch.”

“Come on,” Dib begged, pulling on her arm. The footsteps were noticeably louder. “We have to go now!”

Tak took off running and Dib pulled on the frozen Zim until his legs moved. They burst into the hall and immediately came across a group of Irkan soldiers. “There they are!” one of the soldiers cried.

Tak led the way as they ran toward the ship’s hanger. The soldiers fired at them. A laser cannon popped out of Tak’s pack and returned fire, but it was difficult for her to aim while leading the dash to the Voot. She wished one of her companions had could back her up with a pistol but Zim was still barely conscious and Dib was preoccupied with keeping his legs moving. The sound of little metallic feet running beside them gave her an idea.

“Zim, tell me your SIR unit to go into defensive mode.

There was no response. Zim was as helpful as a sack of empty ginzor cans.

“Hey Zim’s robot,” Dib said to the little SIR unit.

Gir looked up at him curiously. “Hmm?”

“Don't you have any weapons or something?”

“Huh?”

“You know, something that makes pretty lights and goes ‘pew, pew’?”

“Oh that. I got that.” A giant laser cannon popped out of his head and he fired wildly into the soldiers behind them, forcing the Irkens to scatter for cover

Finally, they made it to the hangar and all jumped in the Voot. Zim slid zombie-like into the pilot seat.

“Come on,” Dib said, shaking Zim’s shoulder. “Get us out of here!”

“Zim!” Tak snapped. “If you don't fly this ship, I will!”

That seemed to work. Zim shook off whatever stupor he was in and his usual look of single-minded determination returned to his eyes. “No one pilots Zim’s ship but Zim!” He took hold of the controls and the ship roared to life. In a flash, they took off into the stars.

[thebeautyofdisorder]

Dracula/Zoe- 68!

68. You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.

Ooh, excellent choice for Drac. Loads of pun opportunities. Ha, okay. I tried to keep this short as possible, but my intentions were thwarted by them wanting to be snarky bitches to each other for too long, alas. Bonus for you, extra time and effort for me. Enjoy ;) Backstory equivalent to my fic, if that’s easiest

Words Count: 1145

Rating: I’m going to say right on the EDGE of an M rating

Prompt list can be found HERE

Turning the knob to end the steady stream of hot water pouring into her bathtub, Zoe was prepared to shed her dressing gown up until she heard a suspicious rustling, followed by the sound of footsteps from elsewhere in her flat. It was times like this she really wished she had a cat to blame these things on - confronting a burglar was not high on the list of things she felt like doing tonight. Though frankly, if all they were doing was shuffling through her pantry, she was tempted to let them.

Heaving a sigh, she tightened the knot around her waist and moved quietly down the hallway, only to quickly see the tall and distinctive form of a 500 year old war lord standing in the middle of her kitchen with a look of baffled confusion on his face.

“You know, just because you can enter a home without invitation doesn’t mean you should,” the doctor scoffed wryly, her stance losing some of its tension.

“What in screaming hell are ‘potato flakes’ and why do you own them?”

“Because I’m a shite cook,” she defended flatly, and approached him just to grab the box he was studying with growing concern out of his hand, and toss it back onto the counter. It was only then did Dracula give her a true once over, dark eyes lingering over the thin material of her robe, causing her to cross her arms over her chest.

“Now what are you doing here? It’s late, I was about to have a bath.”

“Lucky me,” he self-congratulated, and was quickly met with a glare. Finally he rose his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I was bored.”

“Aren’t there other people you can harass, I just finally got home.”

“The city has been remarkably dead, and not in the fun way, so no not really.”

Suddenly the Count stepped closer, and Zoe forced herself to stand steady and look up at him as opposed to scurrying back, as she was almost certain he wanted her to. If he was looking for someone to frighten, he had really come to the wrong place. There was a foreign intensity in his gaze, though, that wasn’t of the bloodthirsty sort she was used to, and it made her fight not to squirm in the face of it.

“You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in,” he remarked with a growing smirk.

Her eyes rolled. “We both know you’re not going to try to feed from me, it never exactly works out in your favor. If you’re hungry-”

“I’m not,” he corrected quickly, before she could even finish.

Her mouth shut as quickly as it had opened, subtle realization dawning on her features, followed by a stifled laugh.

“Is that really your line right now?”

He lifted an innocent brow. “Is that a refusal?”

“I...wasn’t aware the 15th century was so ‘nontraditional’,” she couldn’t help but comment, curiously.

“Oh it wasn’t.”

It was her turn to lift a brow. “So this is an experiment. I see. Well, in that case, don’t let me keep you from finding another willing participant.”

He glanced upright at the ceiling, as though in consideration tracing his lips with his fingers in a rudely distracting gesture of thoughtfulness.

“Hm. No, see I’m not sure anyone else would be as forthright as you are.”

“Hm, no I see your problem. I would take great joy in telling you that you’re terrible at anything,” she agreed, mostly just for the sake of mockery.

“Knowledge of the scientific method would of course be ideal,” he added, advancing on her further, and she finally felt the need to take half a step back, only to feel the kitchen counter pressing into her backside.

“Seems a bit much, I think,” she corrected flatly, though hadn’t exactly made a move to leave either. Whether it was morbid curiosity or a three year dry spell holding her in place, she couldn’t be sure. Bizarre amusement?

“Perhaps, but ‘a bit much’ is sort of my area.”

“I deeply regret introducing you to the internet,” she sighed, finally breaking eye contact with him just to roll her eyes skyward.

“You still haven’t said no,” Dracula observed keenly, gently cupping her chin and urging her gaze back to him, breaching physical contact with surprising subtlety.

“Must be the razor sharp fangs and the sedative saliva,” she made a point of sarcastically emphasizing, doing her best to ignore his fingers as they trailed down her throat slowly.

“Oh that only happens when I want it to, Zoe.” He paused as she rose her brows in disbelief. “Okay, and when there’s an excess of human blood. Irrelevant. You’re practically undead, you’ll survive. I can’t say the same for anyone else-”

“Fucking hell, at least it’d stop you from talking,” she snapped, though before she could move to regret her consent, the Count’s mouth had already crashed against hers, and she found herself sitting atop the counter that had previously been at her back, so quickly she almost felt dizzy.

Her nails dug into his shoulders for support on her new perch, though they worked beneath the strain with utter indifference, shifting under her grip as his hands ran up her thighs under the quickly separating fabric of her dressing gown, urging them apart so he could stand between them, pulling her forward against his still be-suited form. His tongue was, much to her annoyance, already doing some rather impressive things as it invaded her mouth and curled against her own. She pulled back, though, just as one of his hands cupped her centre, with a bite of his lip. The soft growl that erupted from him in response was almost hilarious.

“Foreplay is cheating, if you’re running a proper assessment,” she corrected with a breathy attempt at sounding stern, a tone borne of academia and apparently hitting its mark regardless of her debauched appearance.

He looked for a moment like he would protest, but it faded into a strange sort of obedience just as quickly, his only move of defiance coming as he stroked his hand down the length of her exposed sternum and sliced the tie of her dressing gown with his thumb nail, splitting it in two and getting it out of his way entirely.  

“As you were, Dr. Helsing,” he agreed roughly, and she watched him sink onto his knees before her in what was probably the most fascinating sight she’d ever beheld.

“I’m banking on this being a disappointment,” she challenged stubbornly, even as she felt him approach with baited breath, unable to resist a last jab even as she felt his lips brush against her mound with mocking lightness.

“Place your bets wisely,” were the finally words she had to hear from him for quite a long while.

--------

Tag List: @hoefordarkness @allis143 @festering-queen @lets-talk-about-claes-baby @river-soul @dracula-s-bride @vanhelssing @punk-courtesan @gabesprincess @skeletalremainswithinme @chelsfic @alma37 @break-free-killer-queen @mephdcosplay @camille-stark @leah-halliwell92 @bang-and-a-blintz @chrsitophwaltz @carydorse @lady-of-the-wolves @charlesdances @crazytxgradstudent @imagineandimagine @my-fanfic-library @angielandon @onyxthevampire @serindiyoza @kandomeresbitch @bellamortislife @fuukonomiko @hyacinth-meadow @guardianbelle @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @claesbangme @draculaclaes @girlonfireice @pullthedamnlever @lamourcommecesttoujour  @hopipollahorror @jangleprojet @hiphop-gir @ss9slb @littlemessyjessi @flyingleapdisco @le-fay-87 @crowley-needs-a-hug @bloodspatteredprincess @malkaviangirl @mitsukatsu @katwoman06 @tanja2306 @myst-l-vie @gatissed @mood-adlock @gettingcrazyforlife @drsherlockmoffat @alhoyin @xis23 @dreamer2381 @profiler-in-courage @garlicbreakfast @the-sign-of-tea @rheabalaur @ombradellaluna @feralstare

I’m sure there’s more of you, but spread it around, my dears, if you like. Requests still open, time constraints apply, for various fandoms. Ta.

[barnesbabyy]

Hi!!! If you're still taking fanfic requests/prompts, I had the idea of Janus teaching Logan how to slow dance?? That's all I've really got as far as ideas go, so feel free to go as buckwild as you want

I Won't Tell A Soul

A/N: Oohh I like this one! I borrowed the title from Charlie Puth's song I Won't Tell A Soul but this fanfic won't be based on that song. I personally don't really ship Janus and Logan but I think they look cute together. I hope you'll like what I wrote. Enjoy!

- Anisa

Usually, he was the one to teach.

They don't call him teacher for nothing. But this time, things were a little different...

They don't know how it happened, it just did. After that hard episode of Putting Others First, they started hanging out more often.

Janus was a part of the group now. It all felt like a dream. They finally see him as something more then just an evil snake. Especially a certain logical side.

It started out from nowhere. After SvS and Janus spilling all those facts, Logan started thinking differently about him. He of course didn't tell anyone, but it felt like he had a little crush on the deceitful side. In the beginning he denied those feelings, he's logic, he doesn't 'crush' on anyone.

But, after POF, he realised that it's not worth hiding the truth from himself anymore. He loved that deceitful side. And soon enough, with a little help from Roman, he confessed those feelings to Janus. This was all of course after Janus got accepted by everyone, meaning Virgil was also okay with him being there.

Logan was scared that Janus won't feel the same, but luckily for him, he did. Janus was happy when Logan decided to hang out with him and grew to like him more than just like a friend. He was over the roof when Logan confessed his feelings for him.

Now they were in Logan's room, sitting and watching some documentary about nature.

Janus slowly grew bored of it.

"Logan, honey, I'm bored let's do something else."

"What do you have in mind, Jan?" asked Logan tenderly.

Janus smiled, stood up and kneeled in front of Logan, extending his hand towards him

"Will you do me the honor and let me have this dance, my love?"

Blush was making it's way towards Logan's cheeks as he quietly replied

"I'd be more than happy, my dear, but unfortunately I do not know how to dance."

Janus smirked "That's fine, I can teach you."

Logan looked at Janus and hesitantly took his hand, slowly standing up.

They stood in the center of his room.

"Put your left hand on my shoulder and I'll put my right on your torso" Janus spoke to him slowly. Logan did as told and felt butterflies in his stomach when Janus interviewed his right hand in his left.

"Now just look at me and follow my lead. Don't think, just move."

Slowly, they started moving around Logan's room. He couldn't believe this was happening. If someone told him that one day he's going to be in his room, slow dancing with none other than Deceit himself, he'd tell them that they're delusional. Yet here he is.

For a brief moment, Janus broke the embrace and turned on some slow music on his phone. Logan was so in trance that he didn't even notice they were dancing without music.

"There you go. See, it's not hard." said Janus lovingly.

"Yeah, you are right, this is quite fun. Altough I read somewhere that there's a different kind of slow dances that..." "Logan, what did I tell you? Don't think. Just relax and enjoy. And while we're at it, why don't you just leave the teaching to me, right now?" interrupted Janus with a smirk on his face.

Logan just smiled knowingly, remembering when he said that to Janus.

"I'm trying to teach you a lesson but it's literally impossible!"

"Falsehood. Why don't you just leave the teaching to me?"

Oh, how far have they come.

After practicing some more, they stopped and sat down on a couch.

"Umm Janus. I have one request for you. Could you please not tell others that you were teaching me how to dance? I'm afraid they won't take me seriously anymore if you do."

Janus looked at him, smiled and said

"Don't worry, love. I won't tell a soul."

[seenashwrite]

There But For The Grace

Word Count: 3.3K Category: One-shot; Introspection; Mystery; Choices; Life journeys; Redemption Rating: Teen & Up Character(s): Dean, Michael, Reader/O.C. Female, and… just read the story. Pairing(s): Read. The. Story. Stop wanting the endings at the starts, impatient young'uns Warnings: None Faux-Warning: There’s no banging, so now that I’ve lost 80% of you… Author’s Note(s):  *This is a re-post minus tags & links in an effort to get it to show up in searches*; I’m told you’re not a true fanfic writer unless you’ve done a coffee shop meet-up fic - kindly let me know if I got it right; more post-story Overall Summary: An archangel takes a break from his reconnaissance.

The list grew by the minute, and he had to admit to himself that the mundane task of collecting all his reasons was turning delightful.

The other world hadn’t progressed to this level of corruption; likely it would’ve, had it not been for the brimstone, but that was neither here nor there. The worlds were identical, he’d learned, at least in the ways that mattered. Time nor space made a difference. Humans were, to be sure, utterly predictable.

Case in point: his most favorite time period from recent past had unfolded in precisely the same manner in both places, so much so he came as near to astonishment as he’d ever been. The roaring twenties were rife with sin, the pompous prohibitionists and the lust-filled liquor vendors, the mobsters with their massacres, and the bankers with their bloated greed. His distaste aside, it was beautiful. It was art, the way they crafted their depravity. Granted, it was nothing compared to his favorite time of all, but this was understandable; little could live up to Sodom and Gomorrah.

See there, hunter? I’m a salt-and-burn aficionado.

He’d successfully lulled the man whose body he’d snatched - no, that’s not right. He did not steal. Theft is sin. The hunter had agreed to act as a vessel, it was witnessed, and while there was deception involved, one in his position must think of the greater good. And it should be noted that he did exercise benevolence. Angelic vessels did not fare well, exponentially so for archangel vessels, and it was poor form to run through them quickly.  

He knew firsthand how his brothers handled their hosts. Raphael would woo the humans with promises of a glorious afterlife, then promptly expel their souls the moment he got a foothold. Gabriel would talk them into giving up the ghost voluntarily (as Gabriel could talk practically anyone into anything), in an effort to keep himself guilt-free. And as the fall crept closer, Lucifer took to keeping them wide awake, poking, prodding, picking, til slowly but surely the glow faded to embers, finally snuffing them out upon growing bored.

But not him. He was the best of them all, no sense in being humble. He was different, so he did things differently. He pushed the hunter to the farthest reaches of the mind they shared, threats to family quelling the belligerence surprisingly easily.

Are you plotting? he’d asked early on, receiving no answer; they both knew it was rhetorical.

As their time together grew, he’d talk to the hunter on occasion - not aloud, of course - when he marveled at the things he observed, breathing it all in. It had been ages since he’d walked the earth peacefully. It was wonder he felt, and he knew it, and it bothered him. He had been tasked with protecting them, once upon a time, and it was easier then, they were more readily awed, or maybe just malleable. He’d begun to consider if subtlety and manipulation might be ideal this go-round, effective as plagues and floods and annihilation had been, albeit temporarily.

He’d been raised by a vengeful God, the new redemptive version that came with the birth of the prophet never quite sitting right with him, but he was an obedient son, absence or no. He was his Father’s first son, he who was of God, the first angel there ever was, no matter what differing legends over the millennia might’ve said. The offenses the rest of the children, celestial-born and earth-bound alike, committed upon God’s creation wouldn’t have been tolerated back then.

Before. Before it all changed, right under his supposed watchful eye. Before he’d laid waste, in heaven and on earth. Before he’d gotten wrapped up in his plans, let his guard down. Before he lost all three of his beloved brothers in one way or another. Before he’d started paying attention again.

He wouldn’t miss anything else.

And so it was that on his fact-gathering strolls, more and more he found himself slowing his pace, pausing, coming to a halt, damn near freezing in place when something would catch his eye, or touch his ear, or invade his nose, the latter of which stopped him cold this evening, just as twilight eased across the buildings around him, and streetlights flickered on, up and down a nondescript street in a nondescript town on one nondescript walk amongst many.

He went further down the sidewalk, and up the block, and continued around a corner, and there it was, the answer to the question of what heavenly smell had wafted his way.

.

Hallowed Grounds French and Italian Coffees est. 1922

.

In his experience, the fates were indeed fickle. On the other hand, he’d done enough surveillance that week to allow for brief relaxation, be someone else for a spell. Seemed the rough-and-tumble hunter had smoothed edges made ragged from eons spent on another plane, made him fractionally more flexible. Teaching lessons could wait one more night, he told himself.

Meant to be, don’t you think?

There wasn’t need for food or drink, but the hunter was practically a junkie on both fronts, and the palate was wide. This body was stronger than most, better equipped for him, as tailor-made things are, of course, but he had not anticipated how demanding it could be, how it would crave indulgence. Undisciplined. Annoying. Distracting. It was for that last reason he’d give in, keep bites small and sips slow, and the moment there was a sense of satiation, off he - they - would go, back on mission.

African coffee was the best, this was not merely a belief but a fact; French he’d always found bland, somehow; Italian was tolerable. He ordered an espresso, tipped well, and the barista behind the former bar said they had servers milling about, one would be by to check in, see if he needed anything else. And despite knowing he’d swallow less than a quarter of the brew, he took a seat at a table, back to people-watching. Not a one was interesting in the least.

He’d noted the woman carrying the steaming metal carafe walking briskly in the direction where he sat, but had already let his eyes roam away by the time she’d gone behind him, and she only had cause to cross his mind when a loud CLANK hit the air, and the sensation of a third-degree burn called out from his lower right leg and ankle. Several gasps erupted from close-by patrons, someone moaned “Oooooh!” in sympathy, and then came the babbling.

It was the woman, the server, and she was alternating under-breath curses with self-deprecation - Such a stupid klutz! - Why’d I take this fucking job? There wasn’t an apology to be found, not a lick of repentance.

She had his attention.

As she made her way around, the carafe - retrieved, now dented and empty - was plunked on his table, causing the espresso to slosh, and she surveyed the mess on the floor, closed her eyes, rubbed them, took a deep breath, then exhaled it far too quickly for it to have been of any use. Her eyes popped open. They instantly lit on his soaked trouser cuff.

“Jesus,” she muttered, flat forehead going to a frown in a nanosecond.

And he frowned, too. Not that he’d been particularly impressed by or had much use for the prophet, nor had he bought into all the trinity talk - he’d found it offensive that any would be placed by the Father as an equal of sorts - but this was in the ballpark of blasphemy. Well, then. Another sinner joins the collection.

Now she’d dropped, and he arched an eyebrow as his head tilted down, feeling her rubbing - aggressively - on his shoe, sopping up the spilt coffee with a rag she’d had tucked in her apron’s waistband.

“That pot was still hot as hell, it didn’t get you, did it?” she asked, looking up at him from her kneeling position.

“No,” he lied.

“Oh, thank God. I’d have been… if you’d been burnt, I would’ve… I am so sorry, sir.”

Penitence looked lovely on her.

“You seem anxious, why don’t you sit, rest for a moment,” he suggested, and gestured to the empty chair across from him.

He kept his eyes locked onto hers; she gave him an odd look in return, but didn’t have time to answer. Another table called out to her, so she broke the stare, told him she’d check on him again later, see if he wanted a refill - anything he wanted, on the house, she added - before rising and leaving his side.

He took her up on it. He paid for the one that followed. And he waited until the patrons had nearly cleared and the lights were being dimmed and the brooms were coming out. Someone else was sent to collect the fee for the still-full third.

Take a hint.

He followed the advisement - whether it was the hunter’s or some sort of self-prompting, he couldn’t say - and exited, though he didn’t carry on with his reconnaissance, instead going down the tiny alley that led to the back of the building, leaning against a telephone pole that was partially in the shadows, settling in, keeping an eye on the side door of the coffee shop.

The hunter spoke up.

You suck at this.

Pray tell?

Trying to pick up a chick, get laid.

Orgasms are insufficient reasons for risking the creation of another abomination.

Go comb through my greatest hits, then we’ll talk about risks and rewards.

It took a half-hour of darkened silence before he began to grow irritable, and he stood from his lean, was straightening his overcoat when the door opened. She spotted him, pretended like she didn’t, so he took a few steps in her direction. He was just about to speak when she whipped around, jerking something from her pocket. She immediately squirted a caustic fluid onto him, which did nothing, save prompting a confused expression to come across his now damp face.

Oh, for crying out—-

Hush.

She coughed several times as a breeze carried the mist her way, though a subtle wave of his hand served to make it disappear, and soothed her stinging eyes and scratchy throat. He pulled out his handkerchief and blotted the moisture coating his cheeks. She watched, not moving an inch, her mouth hanging open ever-so-slightly.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “Please forgive me.”

“That’s the strongest mace on the market,” she muttered. She looked at the tiny tube, sneered, then tossed it down the alley, where it hop-skipped out of sight. Turning her head back to him, she spoke again, this time warily. “You need money or something? You’re not dressed like you need money.”

He returned the handkerchief to his pocket, met her eye. “You think I waited here to rob you?”

“I don’t… well why are you here?”

“I enjoyed your company and hoped to extend our time together.” A pause, then he added, “I have no desire to have sex with you.”

“Gee, thanks?”

He began to respond, hesitated, then opted to go with, “I’m told I’m not… not very good at… this.”

“Making friends?”

“Mmmm.”

“Well, it’s… it’s late.”

He glanced at his watch. “So it is.”

“And I don’t even know your name.”

“Michael.”

“Michael. Okay. I have a brother named Michael. Mikey, if I want to piss him off.”

“Were your parents religious?”

“What?!” she exclaimed, though she chased it with an amused grin. “You ask the strangest questions. Um, no. Not really.”

“And your name?”

“I, uh… don’t give out my name to strangers.”

“Wise. But I need to call you something.”

“Hmmm… I don’t really…”

He waited.

She snapped her fingers. "My family nicknamed me Grace. The way they talk, I’ve been clumsy since the womb.” She rolled her eyes.

“That sounds cruel.”

She laughed, but it was short, clipped. “Nah. Annoying, maybe. But they didn’t mean anything by it. Your family not have a nickname for you?”

He shook his head. “No. They called one of my brothers the star. He… shone a little too brightly.”

She nodded. “I have a friend like that. Drama queen. Sucks up all the air in a room, as my mother would say.”

“May I call you Grace?”

She laughed again, the full version this time, and said, “I ruined your pants, so I owe you. Yeah, sure. Go for it.”

He walked her to her car, but they kept chatting - the coffee shop began as a speakeasy, he informed her, and a two-way mirror once hung over the bar so as to keep an eye out for the police. And the conversation drifted with them as they meandered down the street, ended up in a park, sitting in swings sandwiched between a slide and a sandbox, lazily letting their feet trail through gravel, him allowing her to think he was a history buff, her telling him how she’d been born in another nondescript town in another nondescript state. How as the years passed, it had started to feel like another world.

And when it was her turn to ask about the past, it called up from within him the desire to lie to her - protect her - for the second time that night. So he chose his words carefully.

“I had assignments. One that was the most… I was supposed to guard people. Defend them, when needed. And… and I did a good job for quite awhile. My commander was pleased. But then things… happened. I let an enemy invade. I wasn’t strong enough. Not enough to stop him.”

“You don’t have to go into detail if you don’t want to,” Grace said quietly. She laid a hand over his.

“People died.”

“Oh.”

“They saw me as a protector. There was a time when some practically worshiped me, thought I was worthy of it.” He made a scoffing sound. “I started to believe I was.”

He’d never had a single regret, never let himself fall into the abyss of memories. But even he could be brought - broken, more accurately - out of his routine. And the most immediate period of his existence had done just that, making times of calm a desire, while in the same moment making times of silence an irritant.

He looked down at their hands, flipped his, threaded his fingers through hers, and she didn’t stop him.

They sat, unmoved, no words, for several minutes; three-point-two-one-six, in fact, because he counted them. His mind never rested, even when the hunter’s did, but he liked how she didn’t feel the need to fill the emptiness with idle talk. Made for a touch of calm. Even with the silence.

It held a bit of irony - he was the silent type, everyone said so. He’d found it often communicated intent better than any words could’ve. And more descriptions piled on: Imposing. Intimidating. Towering. Threatening. Some had called him “Beast” long before it had been applied to their once-adored morning star.

So there it was - there’d already been a second lie, and he hadn’t even noticed.

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he told her, staring at her intently, but this time she didn’t look away.

“You said that already,” she replied, a solemn smile on her lips, not too wide, not too thin, just the right sort, and he hoped he reciprocated in kind. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, saying, “Michael… I mean, my Michael —–”

The hunter’s belly stirred.

“—– you know, my brother, he’s in the service. He’s a Ranger. He doesn’t tell our family a lot of stories from when he fought, but he’s told me some. So if it’s anything like that, then… I can understand. I can try, I mean.”

“I led the entirety of our legion.”

“You’re… you seem a little young to be… what would it be, a general, I guess? Or do you mean you led your division? Or squadron? I know some of the terminology, you don’t have to dumb it down for me.”

“I’ve offended you.”

“No, it’s… don’t worry about it, it doesn’t matter.”

“It very much matters. How people treat one another. People can be vile, sadistic, horrible creatures.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I guess. But we’re the only ones here. And I’m not horrible, and you’re not horrible, soooo…”

“You’re right,” he lied for the third time, and with one of the hunter’s brightest smiles.

Which made Grace shine.

Go.

The hunter did as he was commanded.

Michael thought she tasted like sin.

“Okay. Tomorrow. I’m off work, but we can meet at the coffee shop, figure out what to do from there… around noon sound good?”

He nodded. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Grace.”

She nodded in return, got in her car, and gave him a little wave as she pulled away.

Is this your plan, hunter? How you think you’ll undo me? Making me more like you?

Hey, I haven’t been driving for awhile now. Ass.

Hmmm.

You kissed her.

What makes you say that?

When you let me leave the bad boy corner, I could tell. Or else you’re putting strawberry lip balm on my—-

Apple.

Huh?

It’s apple.

He waited at her apartment, this time deep in the shadows where he wouldn’t be spotted, made sure she got inside safely, listened for the click that told him she’d locked the door. He began to leave, then thought better of it, decided to play guardian for old times’ sake, placed warding here and there to keep any would-be harm away. And back to walking he went, considering how to kill the hours til they met again.

May as well strike up a conversation.

Now that we’ve spent some time together, tell me - Why didn’t we do this sooner? What’s it been for you, about a decade?

You’re a douche.

Fine. But comparatively?

There’s not a douche scale, dick.

So I’m altogether irredeemable?

Uh - is there some universe where you aren’t?

Perhaps.

So prove it! Let me go! And LEAVE ME ALONE.

Fair enough.

If he were to put a not-so-fine point on his reasoning for not meeting her the next day, that about summed it up. He’d disappoint her, she’d disappoint him, and if she didn’t, that was no good. Probably worse. Better to keep unattached when it came to what the future… what he… would likely bring.

Even so, he found himself once more standing apart, likely imposing, always watching, this time through a window, across hallowed grounds, looking for his grace. He spotted her at the very table he’d been at when they met, scrolling through her phone, occasionally sipping on a latte. Then there’d be a sigh, a glance to the large clock on the opposite wall as five, then ten, then fifteen minutes passed by.

What say after this, we head to the cage, check on that counterpart of mine?

This time, he received an unusually placid response.

Why?

To ensure he’s paying for what he’s done.

Like you haven’t been thinking of nuking this world. You’re still jonesing for your apocalypse. You know you want a do-over.

The world could use some cleansing, true. There’s reasons. But, no. That’s not why.

Then what?! How many times are you planning on dragging me over there, making sure he hasn’t popped the lock so you can keep up your stupid act? They’re gonna figure it out soon, Cas or Sam—-

I thought of all people, you’d understand.

Understand WHAT? It’s payback? ‘Cause the first thing *he* did was make a beeline to take you out?

He killed my brother. With my own sword, no less. And that above all, Dean, I will not abide.

Grace picked up her bag, left a few bills on the table, and as she walked out the door, placed a phone call.

“Yeah, he stood me up… no, no, I’m not… Seriously! I’m not mad, I’m just, you know… yeah. I thought he was different… No, you’re right, and I’m sure he had a good reason, and I told you he didn’t have a phone with him, right? So it’s not like he could’ve…. oh God, no he wasn’t lying, why do you assume every dude…. Anyway, maybe I’ll see him again. I think that’d be nice…”

Well, then. Not so predictable, after all. Not this one. At least, for now.

Teaching the world a lesson could wait for just one more day.

.

Author’s Note #2: Per request, there’s a walkthrough on the inspiration for the title/plot points, the theology droppings, and the “clues” for the ending twist-a-roo, if you’re interested! Just look for this story on my Master Post (see below) and it’s linked at the bottom of the story.

Want more stories? My Master Post is linked in my profile, and it tells you about getting on the Tag List, too! If for whatever reason it gives you trouble, don’t hesitate to send an Ask and I’ll link you.

Re-blogs and feedback are fuel for a writer’s soul - please do let me know if you enjoyed. 😘

[franklyshipping]

Marshmallow Jim ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOOOOO FINALLY I'M BACK OFF HIATUS! I AM WRITING SOMETHING WITH THE SWEET SWEET BOY WHO IS ERIC DERICKSON AND I KNOW IT'S WHAT PEOPLE HAVE WANTED AND TBH I'VE WANTED TO WRITE THIS FOR A LONG ASS WHILE! THIS IS BASED OFF OF THE CUTEST PROMPT FROM @amazingmsme SO LET'S DO IT!!!

TAGGING: @ericleederekson and @erik-lee-derekson

As someone who has no siblings, nor have had anyone in my life whom I would consider ''sibling-like''....I don't quite understand the relationship siblings have. They're not like parents or other family members who you may feel awkward socialising with, and yet they may neither be like best friends who you can share absolutely everything with....and yet they know everything about you anyway. The only way I have ever really understood the concept of siblings....is through the Jims. Always having each other's backs, having an unexplainable synchronicity in thought and intention, whilst still having some degree of individuality. A comfort, and safety, an obligatory love that you WANT to fulfil because they're just understanding in a person, and they're someone who can understand you. This is what the Jims are, I can't speak for all siblings, but of course not all siblings are as perfect as the Jims.

'Your editing, as ever, astounds me Jim, you must show me how you do it all so smoothly!'

Camera Jim bore the most enthusiastic expression as he grinned to his younger brother, of whom he was in awe of currently due to how he'd undergone the realisation of how completely multi-talented he was. Not only did he provide the perfect auditory commentary for their documentaries, but was also the best formatter he thought he'd ever met in his whole life. Said younger brother, Reporter Jim, had a pink hue of bashfulness on his cheeks before he elected to retort with similar awe-inspired praise of his awesome older brother.

'I surely will Jim, but only if you teach me the secret of how you're able to carry a hugely heavy camera on your shoulder for extended periods of time without getting achy!'

The young reporter grinned....and stuck out his pinky finger. It had always been their thing when it came to making promises. None of this crossing your heart or swearing on life malarkey, just a good old pinky finger shake promise. Camera Jim giggled, extending his pinky finger and sealing this new solemn promise. 

'Deal Jim!'

I think we can agree that this is just a wonderfully pure, lovely thing to witness, and it's certain to light up the day of anybody who sees it, right? Well....I'm mostly right. The other person witnessing this would agree that it's pure and wonderful....but deep down, it would end up offering more darkness to his day than light. Eric Derickson is the person here. He was currently concealed in the living room's window seat that was hidden behind a thick curtain, and had been daydreaming of his, unfortunately now deceased, brothers. He'd been trying his best to keep good, happy memories in his mind, it was meant to help with the grief apparently.

When the Jims had entered the main room however, a pang of want for company had made Eric stand up....but then they'd started talking. Sometimes talking, just the action itself regardless of words, can stop people for different reason. He'd frozen up, and stayed that way. Body half-curled in his seat, fist clenching his raggedy, yet soft, handkerchief as he listened and peeked at the Jims....who talked so in sync. It was amazing to hear. So amazing in fact, that the thought of barging in and including himself in the scene made Eric feel sick right in the pit of his stomach. That sickening pit of anxiety....was just the start.

'Howdy Jim was on form with his advertisement work wasn't he Jim?'

Eric flinched at the sound of the young reporter's exclamation...the Jims never did have a good volume control. It might be a sign of being a rambunctious sibling, there's always a hint of wildness if you're raised in that kind of free for all family. Like the Jims...or....like the Dericksons. Eric's brothers were just the same...they were so much....the same.

'Oh agreed Jim! As was Flirty Katana Jim with their dating advice Jim!'

Camera Jim replied with a wide smile; a hobby of the Jims was crediting and greatly admiring all their friends behind their backs. Eric could feel his eyes getting hotter and hotter. The happy memories of his siblings were being poisoned, poisoned by his anxious grief that made him clutch his hanky tighter and tense what little muscle he had. What really got to Eric though, and in fact made him softly gasp....was what our dear Reporter Jim said next.

'Oh their confidence is unrivalled Jim....I....find myself being jealous, since I get nervous so easily and end up rambling which makes people think I'm a good reporter when in fact I'm just speaking nonsense in order to get past it more quickly so that it's done and there's a lower risk of people finding fault and being disappointed with me-'

'Jim....sweet baby brother, the most talented of us all. You ARE a good reporter, because you handle the truth unlike every other reporter in the existence of the Planet. And you're adorable, viewers like that!'

To hear Reporter Jim have that insecurity struck a chord in Eric....but it was his brother's words that made his first silent tears roll down his cheeks. There's something about being a sibling, when someone sees you at your best and at your worst...it means that they have this gift; an ability to have the perfect words to get you back to your best. Eric didn't have that anymore. He used to have that...but he'd lost it, and it hurt.

'J-JIM!'

Reporter Jim squeaked bashfully, and as the Jim's embraced happily, Eric covered his mouth with his handkerchief to muffle his sniffles. He didn't even have the energy to chastise himself about being weak, the sorrow inside him was just bubbling up and boiling to a point where he just didn't feel in control anymore. Eric felt weak. He'd relied on others being there to help and look after him all his life....but surely that meant he wasn't actually strong like his brothers used to say? Surely if he was strong he would be able to calm himself down and gain control over any panic or surge of anxiety, right? That's how things worked, right?

No.

Yes, you may have people in your life with soft eyes and soft voices who can say all the right things to get you to listen....but they're not the ones who have your lungs. No one else can get you out of hyperventilation and wheezing, that's all you. Yes, someone may be gentle and wipe the tears from your cheeks, but who's the person who stops them coming to yours eyes? You. Yes, your loved ones can take your hands and guide you to places of comfort....but it's your legs that you walk with your brain that convinces you to get up and move those legs. It's you..... but not ONLY you. Yes, you can contribute to getting yourself out of unpleasant states...but it is ALWAYS the people who love you who are there to light that spark and clear the path, to make things easier. They are at the first, middle, and final stages side by side with you. You just have to let them listen....they need to hear you.

'W-Wait....Jim can you hear-?'

'A new noise nearby, yes Jim....'

Reporter Jim whispered in quick succession of his brother as they parted from their hug, both bearing expressions of curious confusion. Neither of them were sure of what they'd heard at first since the noises transitioned through sniffs, hics, gasps....until they both understood that what they were hearing was sobbing. They both looked around the room....before freezing, with the veiled window-seat alcove in their sights since it was the only place that someone could hide in the room. They glanced to one another.

'Investigate?'

'Investigate.'

Camera Jim nodded resolutely at his brother's reply before they stood simultaneously and carefully made their way over, being slow; if someone was upset, the last thing they wanted was to startle them. Eric was holding his breath, he knew they'd heard him and he had absolutely nowhere to go, they were going to see him in his stupid, weak state. He was scared....what would they think? What would they do? He was about to find out. Reporter Jim drew back the curtain carefully as his brother peered into the alcove, and both the brothers' eyes widened as Camera Jim whispered.

'New Jim....'

They hadn't come up with their own nickname for him yet, since they hadn't talked to him all that much. The things they did know however, was how the only family he had was his bully of a father, and that the anxiety he suffered from was intense and COMPLETELY undeserved. They knew that his anxiety was in full effect now from his tear stained face, tense frozen form, and look of utter shame on his face. Eric was silent, so Reporter Jim spoke up, but still quite softly.

'Hey....New Jim....why are you....so sad?'

Eric gulped....he could see their concern, but in his mind it was human nature that made them ask him such a caring question. Obligation by nature. Eric therefore did NOT have the confidence to answer, for fear of them not actually caring and in fact seeing him as a burden with whom they talked with out of politeness. Obviously, that is not the case. The brothers knew that they had to be gentle, careful, and patient, much like medical professionals with any other kind of disease. Both brothers took a few little steps towards him, offering him gentle smiles as the eldest murmured.

'You can tell us, we won't tell anyone else....we want to help....we like helping people who are sad, we make sure anyone who leaves us has a smile on their face....'

Eric looked between the two of them nervously, hunched up with nervousness as thoughts pricked his brain....they seemed like they really meant it, and out of everybody, he figured that they were the least likely to deceive him. So Eric decided to try and tell them.....everything. That meant that all of his words came out as this fast, stuttery babble of speech as all his feelings tried to come out at once.

'W-Well I-I-I was g-going to say hi but y-you guys were ch-chatting so I d-didn't want to i-interrupt, th-then you were gossiping a-and b-being caring a-a-and it m-...m-made...me...th-think of m-my own brothers a-a-a-I-uh....'

Eric was shaking and hyperventilating as his coherency just diminished, his sobs returning to him at full force as he held his hanky to his eyes. The Jims only saw one course of action....hugging. They both surged forwards and put their arms around him, and since Eric was the sort of person who needed a lot of physical affection, this was the perfect thing to do for him in that moment. The Jims were in shock....they never thought that one person would ever have to deal with such a great degree of grief....and yet here he was in their arms. And by the gods they were going to help him.

'Hey now it's okay it's okay, we're right here for you aren't we Jim?'

Reporter Jim crooned softly, rubbing in-between Eric's shoulder blades as he and his brother led him slowly to the main couch; standing in of itself was probably draining Eric of energy. Camera Jim had nodded at his brother's words, and kept Eric's non-hanky hand encased in both of his own as he kept eye contact with the distraught man.

'Definitely. Don't worry, if you need to keep doing the crying then we can cuddle you through it all.'

'Cuddling is a cure for all problems.'

'We've got you, you don't need to hide away and do it by yourself....'

They may have spoken in quick succession, but the lowered tones of their voices along with the caring words they spoke made it all just seem soothing for Eric. Soon enough they were all on the couch, with Eric half-nestled limply into Camera Jim as Reporter Jim rested/snuggled into his back.....and there Eric wept. All I can tell you regarding how long he cried for is that it was the amount of time that he needed, and you can't put a numerical value on need. When he did manage to get his breath back, his eyes were flicking over the squiggly patterns on Camera Jim's shirt, and his voice was a whisper.

'I-I-I m-miss them....I-I n-never knew th-that I could hurt th-this much, I didn't think a p-person could f-feel like nothing...'

The Jims thought they were going to tear up....he just sounded so broken.

'But you're not nothing, not really....all the nastiness you feel just shows how much you loved them. I bet all your brothers were so wonderful and loving...'

Camera Jim murmured soothingly, running his hand through Eric's hair as he looked down to him. To the Jims' joy, Eric nodded at Camera Jim's words...and they felt this hope that if they helped Eric focus on happy memories, it would be less painful. Eric sniffled softly, his watery eyes flicking up to Camera Jim as he snuggled more into both brothers, getting more comfortable as he replied.

'They w-were....'

Eric looked like he wanted to continue, so Reporter Jim spoke encouragingly as he kept rubbing the man's back.

'Hey....if you'd like to, we'd love to hear about them. Talking about the happy things might make it hurt way less.'

Eric blinked a few times, turning his head behind him as he hummed softly at the light massage....and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

'.....th-that s-sounds....nice....'

Both Jims smiled as Eric resumed carefully cuddling and getting comfy, and the Jims both made sure to be attentive as Eric spoke.

'W-Well they um.....th-they were all kind of wild and rough, a-always playful and h-having competitions and mini-fights. But....th-they never tried to...m-make me do that s-stuff. They knew I g-got anxious easily s-so they looked after me, they d-didn't care that I didn't like fighting...they l-loved me for me....'

The Jims kept smiling as they listened to Eric....just talking about his brothers in a happy light seemed to make him perk up more; Camera Jim ruffled Eric's hair a little as he whispered.

'They sound so sweet and kind, I bet they loved looking after you, their little Eric...'

Eric's cheeks turned pink, and the Jims withheld gasps when the man suddenly became all smiley and bashful...he was so adorable.

'M-Mhm....th-they u-used to c-call me that when they t-teased me....a-and s-sometimes babied me because I w-was the youngest....'

Okay now the Jims' hearts were truly melted because the thought of fifteen people constantly being there to baby and care for Eric was the purest thing they could possibly imagine. Seeing Eric so bashful too was a sign to the Jims that they were helping Eric onto the right track, so they decided to try and keep it that way. Reporter Jim giggled a little.

'Awwww, to be fair you are really adorable!'

'I bet all your brothers loooved cooing at you! What else did they do?'

Eric felt his breath catch in his throat at the teasing from the Jims....and for the first time in he didn't know how long....he got butterflies in his tummy. Actual flutters and tingles of happy flusteredness that he used to have so much that the butterflies became as normal for him as breathing was. Eric hadn't fathomed feeling them again...but he was....and he loved it. He wanted to feel more. He was eager to tell the Jims more, he could feel that they were honestly interested, so he spoke; it was still in jitters, but that was normal for him really.

'W-Well, uhm...ohgosh-heh....well...th-they a-always said I l-looked cute....b-but I always d-disagreed with them. S-So...t-to get me to agree they'd um....wr-wrestle me down an all take turns....t-t-tickling me...'

Eric had his head bowed in embarrassment as he trailed off breathlessly, mind racing at how he was actually telling people this, about how he was frequently gang tickled; he was shocked he even got that word out of his mouth. The Jims meanwhile...felt a mix of things. Amazement that Eric had survived frequent gang tickling from FIFTEEN STRONG BROTHERS! Awe at how happy Eric was becoming as he unloaded more and more, plus honour at how Eric trusted them with all these personal things. Their main shared emotion however....was mischief. Mischief and delight. Mischief and delight at the fact that Eric had just told them something of great value; something, that could keep Eric's smile in place for a good while. The Jims shared a look, grinned, and confirmed their intentions via some secret Jimmy telekinesis which we will never understand.

'Wrestle you down you say? All of them against you? Why you would never had stood a chance, poor thing....'

'You must have been utterly defenceless, say....did they wrestle you like this?'

Reporter Jim crooned after his brother, before sneakily gaining a grip on Eric's forearms from behind and bringing them above his head as Camera Jim lightly pushed Eric into a lying position, sitting on the confused man's shins in the process. Eric was mightily confuzzled. He let out a soft whine as he struggled amidst their movements, not feeling too nervous since their kindly smiles reassured him that playfulness was what was on the table here. Eric tugged gently at his arms, wiggling as he stuttered.

'What-u-u-uhm....y-yes I s-suppose....b-but why are y-y-you d-doing it? L-Let me up....'

As Eric's speaking went on, he became more and more soft spoken, especially when it came to him making his meek little request. Why you ask? Well, that would be due to how the Jims were subtly looming more and more over him as the seconds passed, eyes glinting as they relished in his cuteness. The Jims shared a glance for a few moments, and Eric gulped as he tried to interpret what they were thinking....but it was impossible. He only understood, when they spoke.

'Well we wanted to get a really good picture of how your brothers would wrestle you, and you also said that they did it because they cared for you-'

'And you were smiling when you talked about it!'

'So really it makes sense that we re-create it for you.'

'So that we can keep you smiling!'

Reporter Jim finished the brothers' spiel with a growing enthusiasm in his voice, and it was then that Eric realised. He went over in his head what he'd told them.....and there were those butterflies once more. Eric....was so happy. He was too happy to even be embarrassed. He knawed on his bottom lip as his watery, hopeful eyes flicked between them with a growing excitement....wondering.....wondering if this was going to happen to him...after so long.

'B-B-But....d-does that mean y-you're gonna....?'

Eric's evident joy meant that the Jims were just itching to get started, so much so that no sooner had they nodded to Eric to confirm his suspicions, Camera Jim had set his fluttering fingertips under the nervous man's chin. And boy was he rewarded.

'AHA! D-Dohohon't s-s-stahahart thehehere!'

My. God. His. Giggling. You're not even ready. The Jims sure as hell weren't ready, and let me tell you, they were shook. You're aware of the phrase 'tee-hee' in reference to laughter right? Well, that's how Eric laughed; or rather, giggled. After a spluttery start, he descended into this high-pitched stream of preciousness as he tried to tilt his head in an attempt to hide his ticklish chin. He couldn't believe this was happening....he'd missed it so much.

'Awww but why noooot? It's making you so giggly and cute!'

'VERY giggly and cute in fact....'

Camera Jim followed on from his brother's giddy remark with a purr as he kept up his fluttery, scratchy technique whilst smiling down at Eric fondly. Camera Jim was getting this odd feeling that he didn't just have one little brother anymore....and Reporter Jim was half-thinking that in the future he'd get to tickle a sibling for once rather than be on the receiving end. Eric was thinking that he was flustered and their successive teasing was very, very evil.

'Nohoho dohohon't sahay it dohohon't sahay ihit!'

You might think that if someone gets called cute nearly 24/7 in their life, they'd get used to it eventually.....nooo. If anything, the constancy just made Eric more easy to fluster. The very apples of his cheeks were lovely and rosy as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, wiggling about and whining at how he couldn't fight back. So, what did the Jims do? Why, tease him even more of course!

'Uh ohhh, I think someone's getting flustered Jim.'

Camera Jim cooed with a smirk as his fluttery tickly digits founds the backs of Eric's ears, making him squeal extensively whilst Reporter Jim lightly rubbed Eric's forearms.

'Oh deeefinately Jim! Look at his little blushy cheeks, they look so cute and squishy!'

I'm surprised that Reporter Jim didn't develop genuine heart eyes given how lovingly he was looking down at Eric, both Jims found that they now had a very strong attachment to him. Eric felt the same for them too...because now they really reminded him of his brothers. He was even getting flashes of memories in his mind of when they would crowd round him and make him giggle his heart out for god knows how long. Eric was soon back in reality when he tossed his head even harder from side to side, the tickles behind his ears feeling unbearable in the teasiest way.

'S-Stahahap the t-t-teheheasihing, shuhuhushy!'

Eric had his face scrunched up, since he was trying to a) dislodge the evil ear tickles and b) try to block out their babyish teasing. Yeaahhh....that didn't work. If anything...he just made everything worse for himself.

'Jim....I think our ticklish little Eric is trying to tell us what to do....'

Camera Jim stroked down Eric's neck as a new expression of sternness rose on him, making Eric gulp and squeak nervously....Eric never thought a Jim could be intimidating....oh how wrong he was.

'Ohhh that's a big mistake Jim.'

'A VERY big mistake.'

Eric whimpered and whined with wide eyes as he looked between the brothers, BOTH of whom were stern now, and he especially tensed when he felt the reporter's grip on his forearms get that little fraction tighter. Camera Jim leant down just above Eric, letting out a few lengthily drawn out tuts, making Eric squirm and try to look at anything but his intimidating expression.

'If anything it's....quite cheeky...'

'The height of disrespect!'

'Such disrespect deserves a punishment...'

Oh god.....punishment. That word. That word that had always meant that Eric was screwed, and I can assure you that it meant the EXACT same right now. Reporter Jim grinned excitedly as he watched his brother's fingers trail down Eric's neck, before drifting to his inner arms below his elbows....before softly....trickling....downwards. Eric was babbling almost immediately.

'W-Wahait waitwaitwait plehease I-I-I r-rehespect you b-bohoth please Ihi dihidn't mean it I didn't!'

Eric's solemnity might have been believed....if he hadn't been smiling like an excited little dumpling. The Jims giggled at his begging, loving it even more when they realised Eric didn't mean a word of it; the Jims realised that when you know someone wants you to tickle them when you've already started....it's very difficult to stop.

'It's too late nooowww!'

The young reporter let out the most evil train of giggles as his older brother winked down at Eric....and then he began. Tracing and scratching and fluttering were what Eric's underarms were subjected too, and that's all that it took for Eric to snort like a piglet and yell to the heavens.

'EEEE NAHA JIHIHIMMIES!'

The Jim's couldn't hold back their happy squeaks at this impromptu nickname....they loved it. Almost as much as they loved how wildly Eric was reacting to such gentle tickling, they figured his sensitivity was through the roof after years of frequent tickles from his brothers; as a result, they kept it gentle, whilst still being taunty.

'Don't think your adorableness is going to make us have mercy on you!'

'Yeah Mr Cheeky Blush!'

Reporter Jim had growled just after his brother as Eric wailed and thrashed about, but even with his real struggles Reporter Jim didn't have to exert too much strength to keep Eric's arms up. Eric gazed at them both pleadingly as shockwaves reverberated from his underarms, through his shoulders as well as his torso, and his back was sharply arched as he exclaimed in his mirth.

'NAHAHT MY PIHIHIHITTIES! IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SUHUPER BAAAD!'

Both Jims awed audibly at him, which made him wail even more through his laughs and babbles, and they were intrigued by how Eric spoke in such a child-like tone, but of course, it wasn't unheard of in flustered people to react childishly when they were cooed at like a child. That reminded the Jims that Eric was still enjoying himself; he was playing along with their tone of teasing, so they continued with it.

'Does it indeed? Enough to make you a more polite little Eric I hope?'

Camera Jim spoke with a raised eyebrow, to which Eric nodded with utter desperation.

'YEHEHES YESYESYESYES!'

Camera Jim smiled softly as he relented on the poor man, and watched happily as his brother released Eric's arms and started cuddling him from behind; Eric started to catch his breath. Reporter Jim snuggled into Eric's shoulder as Eric mewled, subconsciously trying to snuggle back as he subconsciously craved the affection. So Reporter Jim provided it. He carded his fingers through Eric's hair, wanting to calm him and help replenish his energy as much as possible....since he may still need it.

'Breathe, breeeathe, I've got you, your Jimmies are here....'

Eric smiled and blushed at the affection as he bowed his head, extremely embarrassed that he'd actually called the Jims that out loud. He always changed people's names in his head, like, Ed was Eddy, Host was Hosty, and the Jims were Jimmies; calling people cutesy nicknames in his head like that made him less anxious whenever he talked to them. He shut his eyes momentarily as he nestled into Reporter Jim's chest....which meant he didn't see the mischievous grin that the two brothers shared. Camera Jim...shifted a little, just so that he was resting more solidly on Eric's shins as the care from the young reporter both soothed and distracted Eric. It was the perfect way to set up their finale. After a few moments, Eric's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Reporter Jim, heart swelling with happiness.

'Thank y-you....th-this really means a lot t-to me-EEEEEEE!'

Wow, way to ruin a sweet profound moment or what? Eric squealed in surprise before throwing his head back in high pitched laughter. The Jims giggled, particularly Camera Jim who was absently swiping his fingers across the tops of Eric's thighs.

'Yeeeaaahhh, we're not quiiiite done, sorry for the lack of warning...'

Eric wailed at the entirely unapologetic tone in Reporter Jim's voice as he tugged at his legs, and of course he couldn't fight back due to the reporter's previously loving hug now being an entrapment.

'THIHIHIS IHIS SOHO MEHEHEEEAN!!'

Reporter Jim giggled in Eric's ear, which made him shudder even more amidst his frantic writhing. Camera Jim now started introducing mini-pinches and squeezes to the flesh, making Eric howl and laugh even harder as his eyes got watery and glazed again....oh the memories he had of his brothers tormenting him here. They would torture his poor thighs until he wept....and guess what's going to happen now.

'Awwww did I find your bad wittle tickle spot, hmmmm?'

Camera Jim taunted, not stopping the tickling for a second as he cocked his head down at Eric, who nodded in the most frantic manner.

'YEHEEEESSS! IHIHIT'S THE WOHOHORSTEHEEEEST!!'

The Jims chuckled adoringly, making Eric cry out in embarrassment as they swiftly spoke....to one another; playfully talking over his laughter so as to fluster Eric as much as they possibly could. Why? Well.....who wouldn't? The young reporter began teasingly.

'The worstest? My, my it must be diabolical Jim.'

'Oh truly evil Jim, I'll tell you something that's truly not evil though.'

'Oooh what's that Jim?'

'How amazingly marshmallowey his thighs ar-'

'IHIHIH CAHAAAAN'T AHAHANYMOHOOOORE!!!'

Eric let out a mighty shriek. Camera Jim's squeezing and pinching of his soft muscles made tears stream down his cheeks as he hid and sniffled and laughed into Reporter Jim's chest, which made both tormenting brothers aww softly; they could tell the poor thing had reached his limit. So, the tickling stopped, for real this time. Eric gasped and shivered when the tickling slipped away, only to be replaced with....intense cuddling. It was intense because of how Camera Jim elected to lie on top of him, thus cementing Eric into what could only be described as a Jim-witch.

'There we go....all good now...'

Camera Jim whispered as he snuggled close, smiling as he peeked up at Eric who had revealed a fraction of his burning face....and the Jims were elated to see him still smiling so damn brightly. Eric took a few gentle breaths as he squirmed to get comfy between them, murmuring bashfully.

'Y-Yeah....all good n-now...'

After he trailed off, there was a gentle silence. Eric felt himself becoming soothed by the sound of the young reporter's heartbeat against his ear as he rested on his chest, as well as from the way the brothers rocked him and stroked his hair and rubbed his shoulders carefully....all of it so loving, and all of it making Eric feel safe just as it had done in the past.

'Y-You don't....h-h-have to b-baby me i-if you don't want to....'

He stuttered drowsily, his anxious selflessness still there even as he drifted closer to slumber. The Jims merely shushed him softly, making Eric hum as they crooned to him.

'Oh believe us, we want to.'

'We want to look after our brother....'

'Our Marshmallow Jim....'

The young reporter finished with a grin as his eyes met with his elder brother's, before they too relaxed and exhaled with contented sighs along with their Eric; and from that moment on, Eric Derickson had a sense of family that he hadn't had for a long, long time. 

HECKING DONE PEOPLE I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS AAAA LEMME KNOW IF YOU DO WOOP LUV YOUS XX

[silvereddaye]

Would you do #17 War AU with Luke and Anakin(or Vader)? For the Fanfic Trope mash-up? Thanks! You're awesome!

Battle of Corellia Bay

Summary: Someone sent me a prompt for a war au, and decided to do a historical war au. Based on the Battle of Mobile Bay from the American Civil War. Newly appointed Rear Admiral Han Solo is on a personal mission to break the blockade of Corellia Bay so the Alliance can seize Coronet City. But getting through the heavily guarded channel, known as the Kessel Run, will be tough. Luke Skywalker has a bad feeling as he spies Darth Vader aboard one of the Imperial ships.

"Han!" Luke shouted. "Come see this!"

The spyglass was pressed to Luke's face. He looked at the opposing Imperial fleet. It matched the Alliance fleet ship for ship. But Luke was drawn to the dark figure standing on the bow of the first ship. He was tall and dressed in all black. A cape billowed behind him in the wind. He wore a black helmet and mask.

There was no denying it. Luke had seen plenty of posters depicting Darth Vader. It had to be him.

"Let me look, kid," Han said as he approached.

He took the spyglass and looked out across the water. He stared for a few moments before lowering the glass.

"What am I supposed to be looking for?" he asked. "It all looks the same to me."

Luke snatched the glass away and brought it back up to his eye. There was no dark figure standing on the front ship. Had he just been imagining things?

"I . . . uh . . . must be seeing things," he mumbled.

Han clapped him on the back. "Just pre-battle nerves," he said.

Luke nodded. Plus why would Darth Vader be here? Shouldn't he with his own fleet? The dreaded Death Squadron? This was not the Death Squadron. It was a smaller Imperial fleet made of small boats made for the shallows of river warfare. Like the Alliance fleet, the ships were a combination of ironclads and wooden-hulled gunners.

Luke was on the Alliance fleet's flagship the Millennium Falcon. It was a wooden-hulled ship, but what it lacked in iron-plated armor it made up with in speed. It was the fastest ship in the fleet.

"How are you doing?" Luke asked. "How are your nerves?"

Han shifted and pulled at the collar of his new uniform reflecting his new rank, rear admiral. He looked stiff in the tan double-breasted coat that bore the shoulder markings of two stars with the stripes. The cuffs of his sleeves bore the three stripes and a star. The light blue collar of the undershirt was neatly folded over the jacket into two triangular points. Han had never strived to be part of the rebellion, much less an officer. But that didn't mean he was undeserving of his rank. He had earned this rank, and everyone in this fleet knew it.

This would be Han's first real battle as the highest ranking officer. It was a bit on the personal side for him, which was why he volunteered to do it. The Alliance fleet was going to break the Imperial blockade on Corellia Bay. They would then secure Coronet City, Han's hometown, and the shipyards there. This would weaken the Imperial war machine, but breaking the blockade was not going to be easy.

Attempts had been made to secure the bay earlier in the war, but all had failed. Natural geography helped the Empire. A long narrow peninsula of sand came out from the east side of the bay, while a line of barrier islands came in from the west. There was only one main thin channel going in and out of the bay called the Kessel Run.

The Empire had two forts on both sides of the Run. One on the island side and one on the peninsula side. Even though the two forts were within eyesight of each other, their gun range didn't reach into the middle of the Run. That was why there was a submerged minefield under the water. It stretched from the western islands almost all the way across the channel. It forced ships to come close to the eastern fort and its heavy guns.

Of course even if the fleet managed to make it through the Run, mines, guns and all, there was still an Imperial Fleet waiting in the bay.

"This plan seems a bit crazy," Han muttered.

"It's your plan," Luke said with a smile. He now held the rank of lieutenant commander, but unlike Han he wasn't wearing an officer's uniform. Instead he wore the simple sailor outfit of a light gray shirt, black vest, khaki pants, and black boots.

"The wind is working for us," Han noted. He gave Luke a nod, and then walked off. It was time to begin.

Han's plan had each of the sixteen ships in the fleet paired up. Each wooden-hull was paired with an ironclad, and the two ships were tethered together. The ironclad was on the eastern side, the fort side. As the boats made their way through the Run, the ironclad would act as a shield for its wooden sister. If one boat was damaged, then the other boat could tow it along. Once out of range of the fort's guns, then the fleet would untether themselves and focus on the Imperial ships.

It seemed like a good plan. But Luke had this sinking cold feeling in his stomach ever since he had seen that large dark figure on the Imperial ship. He had to remind himself it wasn't Darth Vader. It couldn't be. The Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces would not be bothered with such a battle. There were more important fronts to focus on. Right?

Luke had missed the signal. The fleet was moving. The fleet had formed a single column of paired ships, since the Run wasn't wide enough for anything bigger. The Falcon was in the middle. The tide was running in, so Han ordered the ships to cut back on steam pressure on their engines. If the ships' boilers were hit by enemy fire, it would minimize the damage. Luke sent a silent prayer to the Force that the current would give their ships speed.

The ARS Aspiration tied with the ARS Ghorman's Honor led the column. As soon as the Aspiration got close enough, the Imperial fort started to fire. The column pushed on. Everything was going smoothly. The ironclads were shielding their wooden sisters. They were going to make it through the Kessel Run.

But the Aspiration wasn't staying on course. It was veering westward. Han was shouting. Flags were flashing orders down the column. But the Aspiration kept on. Luke could swear he could hear the shouts coming from the Ghorman's Honor. Why was their sister ship leading them to the mines? The Honor desperately went to work to cut themselves free, but that was when the Aspiration hit a mine.

It took less than three minutes for the Aspiration to sink. The Honor was being pulled after it, but finally the ropes were cut. The ship tried to steer itself free of the mines, but met with the same fate as its sister.

Why had they lost those two ships? Why hadn't they followed orders? Luke couldn't see. Thick clouds of gun smoke filled the air. If only he could see! He glanced up. The air was clear higher up . . . It wasn't long before Luke was climbing up into the rigging. There was a slight shift in the wind as Luke got higher. It cleared the smoke enough for him to see out across the Run.

The rest of the column held true. They kept their pace down the Run.

"Luke!" came a shout. It was Han. "What do you see?"

"The column is holding!" Luke said. He glanced up again. The Imperial fleet had moved. A cold dread built up in him. They were preparing their rammers. The moment the column would come out of the minefield, the moment their ships would be rammed.

Something tugged on Luke's mind. A thought. He looked back westward across the minefield.

"Han!" he shouted down. "Adjust the heading! Order the whole column!" Luke gave the directions.

"That puts us too far west!" Han shouted back up.

"We'll get through the Run faster!"

"Yeah in pieces!"

"Just trust me! Damn the mines! Full speed ahead!"

Luke wasn't sure why he said that or even if he trusted those words himself. Han was right. This was foolish to run the whole fleet through the minefield. But it would put them out of range of the Imperial fleet's guns and rammers. The flags were raised. The signal ran down the column. The two new leaders, the Liberty Gambler and the Star Breeze II, started to turn and make their way into the mines.

Luke held his breath. Any moment now the hull of either ship would brush against a mine, but nothing came. The next two ships in line entered the field followed by the Falcon and her ironclad sister the Sundog. Then the two leaders were free of the mines. Then the next two and the next and the next. The whole column was out of the mines. The ship pairs started to untie themselves as they prepared to face the approaching Imperial fleet.

They had done it! They made it through the Kessel Run in record time! The Imperial ships were thrown off as they moved to confront the Alliance. No longer was this battle on the Empire's terms, but the Imperial ships came on anyways. A fierce battle started. The air filled with dark heavy gunsmoke. The Imperial ships moved to pincher the Alliance ships between them.

Luke was still up in the rigging as he watched the battle unfold. The Alliance had lost three ships, but the Empire had yet to lose any. Luke couldn't help but frown. Things were not going their way despite the good start. There was a sudden sharp change in the wind, which cleared away the smoke clouds. It gave him a clear view of the battlefield. He looked out assessing the two fleets, and that was when he saw it.

There standing in the middle of the deck of the Imperial flag ship was the tall dark figure. Luke didn't need the spyglass to know it was Darth Vader. He was here.

Luke swung down to the deck. "Han!" he shouted. The rear admiral was shouting orders to get the ships into a better formation. "We need to retreat!"

"What?" Han said. "That was the fastest time anyone has ever broken through the Kessel Run! It was luck we only lost two ships. Perhaps those mines have just been submerged too long to be effective."

"Han!" Luke said. "It's Vader! Lord Vader! He's on the lead ship!"

Han paused. "What?" he gaped. "Why . . . Would he . . . Why? Are you sure?"

"Yes," Luke said.

Han looked out at the battle. "He's just a man," he said. "None of those stories are true. He can't revert the tide or change the wind."

"Can't alter the course of our two lead ships so they go into the minefield and sink?" Luke asked.

Han glared at him, but the thought clearly bothered him.

"If that was the case," Han said slowly, "Why didn't the rest of us get hit?"

Luke shrugged. That he didn't have the answer to.

"It's a bunch of nonsense," Han said.

"Han. We've also lost the Sundog, the Night Sail, and the Inspire, yet none of the Imperial ships have gone down." Han didn't reply. "Han," Luke said again. "We're going to lose."

"You don't know that," Han replied angrily. "We could still win!"

An explosion instantly stole both of their attentions. The Star Breeze II's steam engine had been hit by Imperial fire. The ship was lost. An Imperial ship was plowing through the waters straight at the Falcon. The tall dark figure stood at the bow.

"Darth Vader," Han said under his breath. Then he looked at Luke with wide eyes. "We retreat," he said. "We'll head to the Bespin."

"Bespin?" Luke asked.

"It's a river a bit to the west. A bunch of marshland and swamps. Always thick with fog. There's a smuggler's hideout there called Cloud City."

Luke nodded. He prayed to the Force again. They needed just a bit more luck to get away.

[terriblelifechoices]

/jumps into the ask with the trope meme --- Holiday Fic + I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On ; Graves/Credence? :D

Hello, lovely friend!

I am still having heaps of fucking fun with the Fanfic Trope MASH-UP meme, so feel free to hit me up with prompts if you’re bored.  

My immediate ‘holiday fic’ idea was something to do with Christmas, because I think that’s where everyone’s brain goes.  And then I thought, no, I should do something different.

So I went with Fourth of July instead.

This is set in a very loosely AU version of Fantastic Beasts, in which the Barebone children are rescued, Newt is called in to deal with Credence’s obscurus, and Modesty follows Tina around like a little baby duck and wants to be a badass Auror just like her hero.  Graves is still a professional badass, when he’s not busy being a human disaster.  (Most of the time human disaster wins.)

Kind of follows this and this, from a previous prompt meme.

Graves hated MACUSA’s annual Fourth of July celebration.  He hated most of MACUSA’s annual parties.  His reasons for hating them were perfectly valid, and – no matter what Seraphina claimed – did not include the fact that he was a cranky old man with no sense of fun.

Graves was not old.  And there was nothing wrong with his sense of fun, thank you very much Madam President.  He just didn’t enjoy having to coordinate security on a beach while his nearly everyone he knew demonstrated a complete lack of common sense and decorum.  

Also, beaches typically had sand, and not even being a wizard was enough to keep sand out of places no man wanted it.  Graves was going to be pouring sand out of his shoes for weeks.

He’d set anti-No-Maj wards all along the perimeter and set teams of Aurors and Obliviators in the woods just in case.  Trying to sort out which Aurors and Obliviators could a) be trusted with perimeter duty, b) discrete and c) actually work together without descending into petty bickering over which department had the bigger dick was like trying to plan the seating arrangement for a fucking wedding reception, and with many of the same issues.  The Auror/Obliviator rivalry wasn’t quite as bitter as some of the extended family feuds Graves had witnessed over the years, but the arguments over who had stolen someone else’s beau were distressingly familiar.

Ten more minutes, he told himself.  He could endure ten more minutes of socializing with his increasingly intoxicated peers and then he could sneak off to relieve one of the perimeter teams for the rest of the evening.  Goldstein, maybe.  She and Theseus’ little brother had volunteered to take a shift, but they were young and might actually enjoy the party.

Graves wandered along the beach, exchanging brief greetings with the other party goers.  He caught sight of Seraphina, resplendent in an amethyst colored swimsuit.  Her hair was neatly tucked beneath a matching purple scarf, shot through with gold threads and neatly pinned in place with an elaborate wirework rendition of MACUSA’s eagle.  Her wand hung off a woven black belt, and she was wearing gold sandals that laced almost all the way up her calves.  Seraphina was always fashionable, even when she wasn’t wearing very many clothes.

Seraphina beckoned to him.  Graves swore under his breath and answered her summons, wondering if he was going to be dealing with his boss or his interfering best friend.

“Percival!” she said.  “You look ridiculous.”

Well, that answered that question.  Interfering best friend it was.

Graves scowled at her.  “There’s nothing wrong with how I’m dressed,” he protested.

“You’re in a suit,” said Seraphina.

“Linen,” Graves argued.  “In keeping with the spirit of the event.  Also, the weather.”

“You’re at the beach.”

“I was told linen suits were appropriate beachwear,” Graves said.

Seraphina pointed at him.  “Don’t you try and blame poor Tomas for this.  He probably tried to kit you out with a swimsuit, didn’t he?”

“I don’t need to go to my tailor for a swimsuit,” Graves said, avoiding the part where that was exactly what Tomas had tried to do.  It had had amethyst accents, which had been confusing up until Graves realized that it was meant to coordinate with Seraphina’s.  Graves frequently coordinated his outfits to match Seraphina’s, which neither of their tailors appreciated, but Graves suspected Tomas and Ariadne had settled into a cordial sort of mutual loathing over the years.

“Hah!” said Seraphina.  “He did.”  One corner of her mouth quirked up.  She was laughing at him, but she had the decency not to do it out loud where other people might hear.  “You could at least take your shoes off.”

Graves needed his shoes for later.  He was long past the age where traipsing through the woods barefoot sounded like a good idea.

It was easier not to argue with Seraphina, though.  Graves shucked off his shoes, made a futile effort at pouring the sand out, and then stripped out of his socks for good measure, balling them up and shoving them down into his shoes.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said.  “Take off your jacket.”

Graves sighed and obeyed.  He drew the line at letting Seraphina unbutton his shirt, swatting her hand away.  “Merlin, woman, what is wrong with you?  You’re going to give some reporter entirely the wrong idea.”

Seraphina made a face.  “Perish the thought,” she said, surreptitiously checking for reporters.  There were none in the immediate vicinity, thank magic.  “Credence was looking for you earlier,” she said.  “I thought he’d appreciate it if you were a bit more … casual.”

Graves froze.  “Has he said anything?”  Would Credence have said anything to Seraphina?  Credence was so polite; so careful not to give anyone even the slightest hint of impropriety.  It was hard to imagine him gossiping with Seraphina.

They were friends, though.  Credence might feel comfortable asking Seraphina questions that he couldn’t or wouldn’t ask the Goldsteins.

“Ah,” said Seraphina.  “No.”

“No, he hasn’t said anything, or no, you’re not getting involved in my love life?” Graves asked suspiciously.

“You’re such a damn Auror,” she muttered.  “No, I’m not getting involved in your love life,” she clarified.

“So he did say something,” Graves said, feeling a low curl of anxiety rise up in his gut.  What had he done wrong?  He’d tried so hard to be respectful of Credence’s boundaries – to not push for anything Credence wasn’t willing to give.  Had he overstepped somehow?  He was older and more experienced than Credence was.  Had he made Credence feel like he was pushing when he hadn’t meant to?

Shit.

“I need to find Credence,” Graves said.  He needed to fix whatever he’d done wrong.  He liked spending time with Credence.  He wanted to be with Credence any way Credence would let him.  Credence was extraordinary.

“Would you calm down?” Seraphina asked, exasperated.  “He didn’t say anything bad.”

Graves gave her a sour look.  “I thought you were staying out of my love life,” he said.

“I’m trying, but I actually like Credence, and I don’t want you to fuck this up and do something ridiculous because you’re panicking.”

“I am not panicking,” Graves grumbled.  He was, in fact, panicking, but he’d be damned if he admitted it to Seraphina.

“Sure you aren’t,” she said serenely.  She pointed out into the water.  “Credence is just coming out of the water,” she told him.  “You should go talk to him.”

“Um,” said Graves, suddenly very grateful that Seraphina had made him take his jacket off.  It hung loosely over his arm, and mostly obscured the sudden rush of blood to his cock.

Credence emerged from the water clad in a deep purple swimsuit rather like the one Tomas had tried to push on Graves.  Graves wished like hell he’d let Tomas win; he rather liked the thought of coordinating with Credence.

The color suited him.  Credence looked good in anything, but there was something about Credence in jewel tones that flattered his pale skin and dark hair.  The deep scoop neck of his swimsuit top showed off tantalizing hints of Credence’s chest.  His arms and legs were bare – well, they would be, for swimming, thought Graves – and his skin was sleek and wet and gleaming in the fading summer sunshine.

He was the most beautiful thing Graves had ever seen.

“Marie Leveau,” muttered Seraphina.  “Percival.”

Graves adjusted his jacket again, positioning it to cover his cock while he tried to think unarousing thoughts.  It didn’t work.  “This is all your fault,” he hissed.

“It is not!”

“Yes, it is!  I’m only at this stupid party because of you!  Also, you’re the damned president.  Why haven’t you abolished this stupid holiday?”

“Why haven’t I abolished the Fourth of July,” Seraphina repeated.

“Yes!  It’s a stupid holiday and we should get rid of it.”

Seraphina pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I realize you’re currently thinking with your dick, but are you actually listening to yourself right now?”

“Wizarding America doesn’t need another excuse to get drunk and throw a party,” Graves argued, because he thought that even when he wasn’t thinking with his dick.  “And don’t get me started on the fireworks.”

“It’s a national holiday!  For everyone, not just wizards.”

“Oh, because we’re so interested in adhering to No-Maj law.  Shit, he’s coming over here,” said Graves.  It was too late to flee.  Credence had already seen him.

“I am going to put this memory in a Pensieve and pull it out whenever I need a good laugh,” said Seraphina.

“You’re the worst and I hate you.”

“You love me,” she sang, cruelly abandoning him to his fate.

“Mr. Graves!” Credence said gladly.  He paused, looking over Graves’ clothing, lingering on the unbuttoned top two buttons of his shirt.

Graves wished like hell he’d let Seraphina undo more of his buttons.

“Percival,” Credence said.

Graves smiled at him.  “You never call me Percival,” he said.

“I never call you Percival when you’re on duty,” Credence corrected.  “And since you’re always on duty –”

“I am not,” Graves protested.

Credence gave him a profoundly skeptical look.  “Sure you’re not,” he said.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Graves asked.  He wanted to add, someplace far from here so I can ravish you but managed to resist the urge.

Credence beamed at him.  “I’d love to.”

They wandered away the beach, heading back towards the forest.  The sun hadn’t set yet.  People wouldn’t start sneaking away from the beach for a bit of privacy for at least another hour, which would probably liven things up for the Auror-Obliviator teams on patrol.  Graves had not yet discovered what it was about MACUSA’s Fourth of July celebration that turned perfectly sensible witches and wizards into woodland exhibitionists, but when he did, he was getting whatever it was banned from the party.  There was a reason he handpicked Aurors and Obliviators who could be discrete.

This close, Graves could smell salt water and the faint bergamot hints of Credence’s shampoo.  Credence’s hair had started to dry a little, and it made Graves wonder what it would look like damp with sweat from other exertions.  If the pretty flush on Credence’s cheeks would go all the way down his chest for Graves to chase until he got to Credence’s cock.

His own cock, which had mostly calmed down during the walk, heartily approved of that particular fantasy.

Stop, Graves thought, trying to will it back into quiescence.

Credence shivered, bringing his hands up to rub his arms.  “I should’ve grabbed my towel,” he said.

Shit, thought Graves.  Good manners demanded that he offer Credence his jacket.  A bit of personal embarrassment was nothing to Credence’s comfort.  He didn’t want Credence to catch a cold.

“Take my jacket,” he said, draping it over Credence’s shoulders before Credence could say no.

“Thank you,” Credence said.  His gaze flickered very briefly downward, and then he went bright red.

He did blush all the way down his chest, or at least all the way down the bits that weren’t covered by his swimsuit.  That knowledge did nothing to dissuade Graves’ erection.

Frankly, Graves was a little surprised he was still conscious.  Surely he ought to have passed out by now.  It had to be physiologically impossible for a man to remain conscious when all the blood in his body was either in his dick or in his suddenly bright red cheeks.

“I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Graves said.  “I’ll leave you to enjoy the party, and we need not speak of this again.”  Assuming Credence wanted to speak with him at all after this.  “Or ever speak again, if that is your wish.”

“No!” Credence blurted, lunging forward.  He tripped over a rock and fell into Graves’ arms.

Credence was still cool from the water, the wool of his swimsuit damp against Graves’ thin shirt and pants.  And, unless Graves was having a very weird hallucination, he was also hard.  Graves could feel Credence’s erection against his hip, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to align their hips so they could rut against one another properly.

“Are you alright?” Graves asked.

“Fine,” Credence said.  “Confused, but fine.  What are you apologizing for?”

“I’m really not sure anymore,” Graves admitted.  “I thought maybe I’d made you uncomfortable with –” he made a vague gesture, trying to convey with my completely inappropriate erection, because you are a gorgeous young thing and I am apparently a dirty old man without actually having to give voice to that utterly mortifying sentence.

“With your cock,” Credence finished, giving Graves a look that suggested he thought Graves had gone out of his fucking mind.

“Ah,” said Graves.  “That’s not exactly how I would have put it, but – yes.”  He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair in embarrassment.  “You’re very beautiful,” he said.  “Which is not to say that this is in any way your fault, or that I expect you to do something about it, it’s just – I’m attracted.  To you.  Physically.  And if someone could please shut me up now, I’d take that as a kindness, because –”

Credence leaned forward and kissed him, temporarily stopping the flow of words.  Graves shut up and kissed him back, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of Credence’s head.

Credence rested his forehead against Graves’ when the kiss finally ended.  “How are we so bad at this?” he marveled.  “I didn’t mean to turn you on just now, but I’m very glad I did.  Because I’m also attracted to you.  Physically,” he added, in case Graves had any doubts about that.  

Since Credence’s erection was still pressed against Graves’ hip, he had fewer doubts about that right now than he might have otherwise, but it was nice to have verbal confirmation.

Graves kissed him again, shifting his hips so that they aligned with Credence’s.  Credence moaned and rocked against him, pressing closer to Graves.  Graves took a step back and tripped over the same fucking rock Credence had tripped on earlier.

They both went down in a tangle of limbs and cursing.

“We are really bad at this,” Graves admitted, laughing helplessly.

“Well,” said Credence.  “We’re already on the ground.  I hear this sort of thing is easier lying down.”

“Yes,” Graves said, rolling so he could press worshipful kisses down the glorious column of Credence’s throat.  “Yes, it is.”  He liked having Credence spread out beneath him like a feast.  He wanted to take his time and worship every inch of him, to caress him everywhere with his hands and his mouth until he was drunk with it.  He wanted to rut against Credence until they both came, messy and fast and fun the way this sort of thing ought to be.  He wanted to take Credence home and beg him to stay.

“Oh,” Credence breathed.  “That’s much nicer,” he admitted.  “You should keep doing that.”

“Of course,” Graves purred.  He got one hand under the shirt portion of Credence’s swimsuit and stroked his belly, feeling Credence quiver beneath him.  He was about to reach a bit lower when a shocked voice said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Graves sighed and pressed one last kiss to the Credence’s collarbone.  “I should have taken you home when I had the chance,” he said mournfully, and turned to face the wrath of Tina Goldstein.

[fantasticworldoffanfics]

DEREK/STILES

                                            ——— (part 7) ——–

Fandom: TeenWolf

Even a longer list of fanfics :)….

top favourites, more top favourites, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Cornerstone

Author: Vendelin

Summary: Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

See Derek Date

Author: mikkimouse

Summary: When Derek sees his ex-boyfriend, Jordan, for the first time in ten years, he tells a little white lie about his love life (or lack thereof). Of course, that all blows up in his face when his sister Cora finds out and demands that Derek bring his (imaginary) boyfriend to her wedding.Now he's got one month to change that "imaginary" boyfriend into an actual one.

Your Majesty

Author: grimm

Summary: It wasn’t like he was a pro or whatever, but like any teenage boy he’d spent a lot of time jerking off, and there were a lot of people on the internet that liked watching that sort of thing. And while the idea of doing actual porn - like, porn with another person’s dick in his ass porn - kind of made him uncomfortable, jerking off by himself in front of a camera sounded okay. If you’re good at something, never do it for free, right?Based off a prompt asking for Stiles as a cam boy and Derek lusting after his hot virgin bod.

Something Spooky

Author: crossroadswrite

Summary: Derek sighs and boredly stuffs a handful of gummi bears in his mouth, straight out of a Halloween candy bowl Aunt Olivia insists in buying every year even if they never get trick or treaters this far into the woods.He tilts his head and tunes back into the boys’ conversation, which has been the prime time entertainment of the Hales for the past ten minutes or so.“It’s dark,” one of the boys whines.“Don’t be a baby, Scott,” the second chastises.“But, I don’t wanna,” Scott whines, like a baby.

My Hips Don't Lie (And I'm Starting to Feel You Boy)

Author: MagnificentlyMagic

Summary: “Dancer’s hips,” Derek joked.“Oh yeah baby, my hips don’t lie,” Stiles smirked, licking his lips.“You’re an idiot.”“You love it.”

OR; The one in where Derek is a photographer for Calvin Klein and has roped in his dancer boyfriend (and his dancer friends) to model for him.

A High School Cliche

Author: halelujah

Summary: “Are you the one that played a porno in the Principal’s office?” A gruff voice asks.“Depends if you’re the one that threw a dumbbell through a window.” He drawls, not bothered in moving from his comfy spot.

Miguel the Wolf Dog

Author: orphan_account

Summary: Stiles' roommate Derek was pretty strange, and Stiles didn't know much about him. His dog, Miguel, was pretty cute though, and it was adorable how Miguel and Scott did the same rubbing thing because apparently Stiles "smells like another werewolf, and the pack doesn't like that". Well, it wasn't actually that cute when Scott did it. And if only he could find this other werewolf on campus...

Camp Lake Hale

Author: sarcasmandirony

Summary: Stiles and Scott decide to spend their last summer before college being camp monitors in the summer camp they used to attend when they were kids. Stiles aspires to rival Nathan Hale as the coolest camp monitor ever. Of course, this being Stiles' life, Nathan is getting married at the end of the summer, which leaves the most boring Hale family member in charge of camp matters - Derek Hale. Blah.

That Which You Cannot Undo

Author: uraneia

Summary: By twenty-eight, Stiles has resigned himself to a quiet life of working in his magic shop, selling Jackson Whittemore fart-inducing tea, and looking after his goddaughter. It's a good life. But the quiet goes to hell when his sister, Lydia, shows up with a crispy werewolf in her trunk and a bite mark on her shoulder, because hard on her heels comes the hottest person Stiles has ever seen, and he happens to be looking for his uncle.You know, the dead guy Stiles helped Lydia bury last night.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Author: grimm

Summary: There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Our Lives Are Changing Lanes

Author: grimm

Summary: There's a lot of screaming going on inside the first house Stiles visits. He isn't really worried, because it sounds like kids, but then the door opens and hi, says his dick, because the dude in front of him is gorgeous, built like a god with a face like thunder. Stiles wants to lick that solid jaw line. Hold the fuck on, says his cop brain, because the dude's got kids hanging all over him; one's on his back, skinny legs looped around his waist, and another two hanging off one arm, toes barely brushing the ground. There's a tubby toddler clinging to his leg like a koala, and he's got a baby tucked into the crook of the one arm that doesn’t have kids hanging off it. Stiles' mouth drops open."How many of those kids did you kidnap?" he asks before he can wrangle his brain into submission.The man gives him a look that says what the fuck is wrong with you and snaps, "You think I'd subject myself to this on purpose?""Oooh," says one of the kids hanging off his arm. "I'm telling Mom."

My Heart's Been Offline

Author: thepsychicclam

Summary: 31/M/New York. Rich, lays in bed all day, likes to read (aka Derek Hale, son of an Oscar winning actress, brother of one obnoxious reality star and one rebellious fashion designer, hates the paparazzi so much he's a recluse)26/M/California. Boring office job, likes to read (aka Stiles Stilinski, co-owner of a 100 acre organic farm with his dad and two best friends, writer of obits for a newspaper, has absolutely no life )Or, where Derek and Stiles meet online, and Stiles has no clue Derek's part of a famous family.

A (Sort of) Fairytale

Author: briecheesie, daunt

Summary: The summer after senior year starts normally enough, with the gang spending their final months before college together at the Martin family's lake house. Then Jackson stumbles onto the burial ground of a witch's ex-husband, Stiles is magically turned into a fox, and things somehow manage to get worse from there. The gratuitous Princess Bride references are only of moderate help.

Of Wolves And Doughnuts

Author: Hatteress (goddammitstacey)

Summary: When Derek was fifteen, circumstance and a goddamn doughnut had seen fit to Bond him to Stiles Stilinski. In which Derek is more cunning than anyone gives him credit for, Stiles doesn't understand why the new Alphas in town are all up in his business and everyone gets a violent crash-course in what it means to be Pack, whether they're in it or not.

With a Little Christmas Magic

Author: AceLotti

Summary: AU: Stiles is jobless this Christmas and as a last resort, is stuck playing one of Santa’s elves at the mall. The job is a bust, and Stiles isn’t really in the Christmas mood, until he finds salvation in the Starbucks at the food court, not only in hiding from kids, but in one very sexy barista named Derek.

OR: In Wich Stiles in an Elf and Derek is a Christmas Coffee Magician

Crasher Landers

Author: gyzym

Summary: In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk. (Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly five hundred handwritten steps.)

A Desperate Arrangement

Author: mikkimouse

Summary: "I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.

Salty Sweet

Author: secondstar

Summary: Derek works at a porn store. One day, Stiles comes in asking all sorts of TMI questions about different toys. That's where it all starts.

A Californian Wolf in New York Series

Author: dancinbutterfly, knight_tracer

Part 1: A Californian Wolf in New York

Summary: When Derek finally realizes that there's nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home. (A podfic/fanfic collaboration)

Part 2 : It’s a Break, Not a Vacation

Summary: The anniversary of the fire sneaks up on Derek. So he follows his instinct and leaves Manhattan to get to the one thing he really needs to survive the worst week of the year, Stiles. Unfortunately, that puts him in Beacon Hills - the worst place he could possibly be at the worst possible time. Yeah, Derek didn't really think this through.

It Started with the Fox Ears Series

Author: thelucky13

Part 1: Fox Ears are a Blessing

Summary: The fic where Stiles has really sensitive ears and Derek uses it to his advantage. Sexually of course. mhmm. Sex.

Part 2: Blame It on the Twins

Summary: A peek through Stiles' pregnancy, with sexy times because I can never not.

The One Where Stiles is a Fox (literally) Series

Author: OneSmartChicken

Part 1: Tales of the Grizzled Pup

Summary: Stiles gets turned into a fox, and it's sort of awesome, and this is a terrible summary.

Part 2: Counting the Constellations On Your Face

Summary: And then the fox became a man, barely more than a boy in truth, and Derek should not have been surprised by his unique beauty, and yet he was.In fact, it could be said that Derek was transfixed.That's it. That's all it is. A little pack bonding and Derek thinking about how pretty Stiles is.

The Company I Keep

Author: secondstar

Summary: Stiles has a favorite table at the library. Then some asshole comes along and steals it from him.

We've Written Volumes (In Blood, in Scars and Ink)

Author: notthequiettype

Summary: Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

Permanent Fixture

Author: linksofmemories

Summary: Derek is Scott's older brother. Stiles is Scott's best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

Howlin' For You

Author: Lenore

Summary: A college AU with strippers, crime bosses, and a mystery to solve.

I Want to Say Yes, Sir

Author: Halesbennett

Summary:  “I’ve got a 17 year old boy in the back of my car and I’m running him up to the station.” His dad sighs.“Oooo is he cute?” Stiles asks jokingly.Stiles can practically hear his Dad’s eye roll. He can hear the Sheriff shift as he turns around to look at the boy in the back. “Hey my son wants to know if you’re cute.”He hears the boy on the other end go after a second of hesitation, “I want to say yes, sir.”His Dad just cracks up laughing.

Mr Virginity

Author: MourningDawn

Summary: AU. Derek Hale has a reputation, one that has been built through out high-school. He's the captain of the basket ball team and he's the most popular guy in school. But Derek is also know for going after any virgins at his school which he is how he gets the nick name "Mr. Virginity". To Derek it's fun crossing names off the list as he helps usher in the virgins into the world of sex. It's nearing the end of his senior year and there is just one last person still holding on to their virginity. Their is a reason why Derek left nerdy, hipster, social award, star wars loving Stiles Stilinski for last.

Mouthy, Mouthy

Author: colferstilinski

Summary: Derek raggedly ruts up, still chasing. Still coming. Eyes that have been clamped shut blinks blearily as he tries to finally look down at the swollen gland, and yep. That’s a knot. Definitely his knot.

Closer

Author: lavieboheme0919

Summary: Stiles is a prostitute at an all-male brothel disguised as an exclusive club. He caters specifically to those with a BDSM kink. On the 7th anniversary of the brothel's opening, he entertains a sexy businessman with gorgeous green eyes and dark, black hair who wins 48 hours with him. The two push each other to extremes neither thought possible, but the aftermath may mean that both can heal from what has been done to them.

Just the Tip

Author: Ookamisan

Summary: In which Derek is an Alpha and resembles the wolves from Van Helsing, fucks Stiles on the Hale House lawn and things get weird.

more fics: part 8

[jancys-blue-bayou]

Patrol duty

Day 5 of Jancy Fanfic Week is here, the theme is “Canon compliant: If the Duffers read it, they could include it in season 3.” That inspired me to this, which is my suggestion for a possible opening scene of Stranger Things 3. I’ve already written a lot of canon compliant stuff in terms of missing scenes, but since this one is pretty short and doesn’t actually have that much Jancy action in it, as always feel free to drop any prompts in my inbox and I’ll see if I can get something more out today.

Also on Ao3 and FFNet.

So far, being a cop was nothing like in the movies. Okay, he did realize it was Hawkins and nothing ever happens here. Apart from interdimensional monsters killing people. And he supposes that him being bored at work is better than him fighting Demodogs again. Thankfully no new threats from the Upside Down has arisen since last Halloween. He knows because he and Chief Hopper is always on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. He knows him knowing about it all was may have been the main factor in Hopper taking him on as cadet even though he flunked the written exam the first time and only passed the shooting test because Nancy took him out to the woods to practice it beforehand. As Nancy had said, ”He’ll like having someone else on the Force who knows about it”.

And it was better being bored at work as a cop than being bored working for his dad. Since the latter option entailed both boredom and his father, he’d gladly taking being bored in the passenger seat of a cruiser next to Officer Callahan.

It’s Friday night and they have patrol duty. He’s been on patrol several times, but never on a Friday night. He thinks of what Friday nights used to mean for him. Usually a party somewhere that may or may not eventually be broken up by the police. Now he was on the other side of it. Though thankfully they hadn’t gotten calls about any rowdy party tonight. His worst fear is that they’ll send him out to bust up a party and he’ll be recognized by people he went to school with.

”Well, let’s check out the usual spots,” Callahan suddenly changes subject after droning on about what he had for lunch today for way to long.

”The usual spots?”

”You should know, Rookie, the regular spots popular with the teenagers around here…” Callahan says and waggles his eyebrows.

”Oh…”

”Actually, do you know about any new spots? I’ll swing by Lovers Lake first of course.”

”No… no, that’s pretty much the main one I suppose… but uh, do we have to? I mean, can’t we just let the kids be kids?” He tries, really not thrilled about the prospect of going around busting teen couples in cars. He’s been on the other side of that too.

”Nah, Chief wants us to. Plus it’s kind of fun, see it as a chance to get revenge for all those times in high school you got rejected. When the girls never wanted to go to the lake with you but wanted to go with Johnny Nicholls or-”

His raised eyebrows silences the increasingly agitated Callahan.

”… you were the Johnny Nicholls guy, weren’t you?” Callahan sighs.

”I guess. You actually busted me in sophomore year out here with a girl…”

”Oh. Sorry about that. Well then, now’s your chance to spoil someone else’s fun.”

Callahan comes to a stop and nods to a car parked by the lake.

”What? You mean I have to…?”

”Yeah? Come on, get out and do it.”

”Why do I have to do it? Why can’t you…”

”Hey, I am your superior. Hate to pull rank on you, Rook, but go out there and make some pour guy miserable, that’s an order.”

”Fine,” he sighs and steps out of the cruiser.

He can only pray it’s not anyone he knows. But the car looks vaguely familiar, he thinks as he takes out his flashlight and strides over. He lets out a deep sigh before he steps up to one of the windows by the backseat, banging on it and shining his flashlight through it.

What he sees inside horrifies him. Jonathan Byers, pants halfway down, and under him Nancy Wheeler, shirt off and looking to be in the process of losing her pants aswell when he interrupts them. They both jolt and curse at his knock. Thank God for Byers, who makes sure to shield Nancy’s body with his while she scrambles to get her shirt back on, before he gets his pants back up. A real gentleman, he has to hand it to him.

”Steve?!” Both Nancy and Jonathan shriek when they see that it’s him. He really wishes a black hole would open up beneath him and swallow him down. Instead he gives an awkward wave.

”Steve, what the hell?!” Nancy hisses, rolling down the window slightly and looking both surprised, embarrassed and angry. Jonathan looks to be almost more uncomfortable than he himself.

”Sorry, sorry. But uh, you can’t do that here, it’s indecent exposure and…”

”Seriously?!” Nancy cuts him off. ”You do realize that-”

”Yeah yeah, I know, I know, brick, glass house, I know. This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my Friday night, but I got to follow orders, Nancy.”

”I can’t believe this.”

”Could you just… go somewhere else. Indoors,” he pleads. ”Can’t he just sneak in through the window like I did, it’s not that hard,” he continues without thinking. Nancy and Jonathan both gets even more redfaced.

”Well we used to but last week my mom-” Nancy begins to explain.

”No no, don’t wanna know,” he cuts her off. ”Just, go somewhere, out of here.”

”Fine,” she huffs.

”See you,” he parts with awkwardly. Nancy can barely look at him. Jonathan gives the most awkward wave he’s ever seen.

”So,” Callahan begins as he gets back in the cruiser. Jonathan has already sped off. ”Didn’t that make you feel good?”

”Kill me,” he mutters and beats his head against the dashboard.

”I can’t believe that just happened,” Nancy says after a long silence in the car.

”Tell me about it,” he mutters. He thought that nothing would ever be more embarrassing than when Nancy’s mother walked in on them last week. Turns out Nancy’s ex busting them topped that.

The mood was definitely ruined plus they ran the risk of missing the curfew Mrs. Wheeler had imposed on them after last week’s incident, despite Nancy’s vigorous protests; so he drives Nancy home.

For a second he thought that it almost looked like a van was following them, but looking in the rearview mirror again it was gone, must’ve made a right onto Dearborn. He pulls up to the curb outside Nancy’s house.

”Well, goodnight. I had a great time… for the most part,” Nancy says and gives him a kiss.

”Yeah, me too. See you tomorrow?”

”Definitely.”

Nancy kisses him one more time before stepping out of the car. He watches her walk up to the door. She turns on the porch and gives him a wave. He waves back and waits until she’s safely inside her house before driving off.

He drives the familiar way home from Maple Street. One more time a feeling like he’s being followed comes over him for a second, but once again no one’s there so he shakes it off. He parks at the end of the driveway next to the Chief’s cruiser and steps inside his house.

They’re all still in front of the tv just like when he left them earlier, but only Hopper is awake, his mom snoring lightly beside him on the loveseat, Will and El slumped against each other in the sofa. The sound is off and the movie seems to be at it’s conclusion when Hopper looks up at him, looks down at his watch, then back up at him.

”Callahan bust ya?” Hopper smirks.

”Harrington,” he sighs deeply.

”Ouch,” Hopper can barely contain his laughter.

”Goodnight,” he leaves with another sigh and heads for his room.

”Night.”

”You good?” Mick turns and asks as they watch the car turn off the road and down the long driveway to the house now familiar to them from a week’s worth of stakeouts.

”Yeah, let’s go,” Kali replies, wiping the blood from her nose.

”When do we execute the plan?” Funshine asks.

”Soon.”

[jungkookienoona]

The Meme and His Tutor

Part 9: The First Time Time Jungkook Was Called BunBun

Recommended Song: If by GOT7

|All Chapters|

Summary:

Two days after you arrive in Korea Jungkook takes you on a day out. A day of laughter, surprises and heart-stopping moments.

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 8484

Length: 9/?

You make your way down to the hotel reception, grabbing a drink from a vending machine before finding a seat. Jungkook had text you the previous night, apologising for not being able to see you for a whole day due to his schedule. But you hadn't minded. In fact, it meant you could laze around in your hotel room catching up on the sleep you had missed because of your long flight. Now, however, you were waiting for a text to meet him in the car park. After you had arrived on the first day you had met the other members. Jin had given you a friendly smile along with Jimin and Hoseok. Yoongi stood to the side and watched the others interact with you while Namjoon came up to you, ruffling your hair. You had stayed to formally introduce yourself and to let them learn whatever they wanted about you. Your phone buzzed interrupting your reflection on previous events.

'Parked in zone C. Black SUV.'

You tell him you're on your way and take the elevator to the underground parking. The car was easy to locate since Jungkook was casually leaning against the hood of the car. He was once again wearing all black with a face mask and sunglasses. Black turtleneck with a black coat and slacks. He looked stunning: professional but casual. You looked down at your jeans and jumper, slightly rumpled from where you had packed it. Shit. You were nothing up to him.

"I feel almost insulted you turned up looking like a model."

You bet he was smirking beneath the mask.

"I have to look my best for Noona." He said, gaze dropping to your outfit. Self-conscious, you drew your coat further around yourself. "And you look nice too."

You mutter a small thank you, stammering a little as you did.

"What are we doing today?" You ask, promptly moving the conversation on.

"It's a surprise."

"Why so many surprises? Free merch, plane tickets and a hotel room, picking me up at the airport then cooking a meal for me. Now this!"

He laughed and opened the passenger door, "It's so you don't get bored of having me as your friend."

You turned around to look at him, confusion evident in the tilt of your head.

"Why would I ever get bored of you?"

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair. He's nervous?

"I'm really not that interesting."

"I think that's for me to decide." You say and then slip into the passenger seat.

He walked round the front of the car and got into the driver's side.

"Your grammar seems to have improved since I arrived."

"Spending day with you really and Namjoon hyung helped me practice yesterday." He pulled out of the space and navigated through the car park to the exit.

"That's good. I'm proud of you Kookie!"

He chuckled.

"You did good with the members. Jin said you speak well."

You smiled, "You and Namjoon-oppa helped."

"You learn quickly, you can come live here sooner?"

You shook your head and sighed.

"I wish it worked like that. I still have to go to uni."

"I go to online uni. You should too. Live where ever you want that way."

"I've, uh, actually been looking into that recently."

The more time you spent Skyping and messaging Jungkook, the more you wished time would hurry up. Three years was starting to feel like a long time. But you knew that your wish was for the wrong reasons, you couldn't uproot your entire life and move to another country just for a guy. Even if they were Jungkook. Especially if he only wanted you there so all his friends were in one place.

"You have?"

"It was just a thought a friend planted in my head."

Jungkook grunted when a van cut him up as he turned down a side street.

"You do what is best for you." He said, "I will fly you out on holidays."

"There's no need to spend so much money, honestly. We're only friends after all. Maybe over the holidays, I can increase the number of Skype sessions." He hummed in thought and his fingers started drumming against the steering wheel. "I'm serious! It's enough for me."

His fingers paused. It was a split second before he went back to tapping, but you saw it.

"We're almost here."

"Where is 'here'?"

"You'll see." He pulled into a car park and swiftly found an empty space. "Noona wait here while I pay for ticket."

You waited in the car, watching him through the windscreen. He quickly jogged to a machine and returned to the car, opening your door and placing the ticket on the dashboard then standing back to let you out.

"Can you tell me where we are?"

"We still in Seoul."

"Thank you captain obvious."

"Fine. We going to one of my favourite places."

"Which is...?"

"I said before: You'll see." He grabbed you by the hand and started leading you out of the car park.

Your eyes widened then you looked away to distract yourself from the contact.

"Come on BunBun tell me."

Jungkook halted and slowly turned to look at you.

"BunBun?"

His brows were pinched together and you imagined his lips pursed in confusion under the mask. His ears looked a little pink.

"Uhhh..."

"Did you just call me BunBun?"

You awkwardly scratched behind your neck, "Well you're known as a bunny so um..."

Desperately, you tried to push the latest smut you had written to the back of your mind and hoped to god he hadn't read it. Or better yet, hoped he didn't know it even existed.

"Oh," He blinked a few times and ran a hand through his hair leaving it a mess. Without thinking you went onto your tiptoes to comb the stray hands flat. "Thank you."

His reaction had confused you. Surely the concept of him as a bunny wasn't new to him. Fans had gifted him headbands multiple times at fan meets. Maybe he'd never made the connection. He cleared his throat and started leading you down the road again.

"Don't tell me you never realised you have a bunny smile."

"Oh, yeah, I noticed. I noticed fan give me plushies of me as bunny. I notice lot of things."

You quirked a brow.

"Yeah? Like fanart?"

"We get given drawings and that all the time. I have a few in my room."

You felt his fingers flex around yours and tighten when you stopped amongst a crowd of people at a set of traffic lights. The green man shone prompting you to cross the street. You waited until you were safely across to continue talking.

"Anything else?"

"I have few well-written fanfics saved on my computer."

You tripped over yourself, at that, prompting him to catch you so you didn't smash your face into the concrete pavement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook shouted over the hubbub of chatter around you. When you neglected to answer, mind too in shock and reeling with questions, he hoisted you up. "Y/n?"

"Y-you've read my fanfiction?"

One hand went from your waist to scratch at his head.

"Uh, it's kind of on your blog."

"Shit."

"D-d-don't worry, I didn't read much. Too hard for me to understand. I was curious."

"Is that why you reacted that way to being called BunBun?"

He nodded.

"Ah Noona, we're nearly there now."

You were thankful he had changed the topic of conversation. He went back to holding your hand and tugged you down the street to the outside of a cafe. Rustic baskets and boxes were piled high with cakes and pastries in the front window. You let out a gasp at an arrangement of macaroons stacked atop each other.

"You like?" He asked with an amused chuckle.

"They all look so tasty!"

"Come on then." He guided you into the cafe.

Judging from the window and the comforting smell of bread that hit you as soon as you stepped inside, you guessed they specialised in baked goods.

"This is my favourite cafe. The staff don't bother me, they also keep fans from approaching me while I'm here. I love ARMY but I need privacy."

You nodded in understanding.

"Then why did you show me?"

"Noona is special." His fingers tightened around yours. "I don't fly random fans out y/n, I'm no international playboy."

You giggled and stepped forward in the queue.

"Are you sure about that? Because you seem pretty flirtatious with anyone who isn't a female idol."

You took another step.

"It's not my fault all the fans are pretty."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of something deep in the pit of your stomach. Jealousy? You dismissed the ridiculous thought; if ARMY knew that you were holding hands with Jungkook in his favourite cafe, you'd be dead meat. Jungkook interrupted your thoughts.

"Noona, what do you want?"

"Huh?"

"To eat and drink."

"Oh umm... croissant and caramel latte with cream on top."

He let out a chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Baby, baby, geudaeneun Caramel Macchiato~ (Baby Baby you're a caramel macchiato)" He sang quietly.

"Not an international playboy my ass."

"You said it!"

"You sang it!"

"But-"

"Hi- yes long time no see!" He said suddenly turning to the woman behind the counter.

She regarded Jungkook with a friendly smile and caught your eye, greeting you too. You said a polite hello and tried to pull your hand out of Jungkook's when he raised them to briefly pull down his face mask as he relayed your order. But he kept hold of it, not seeming bothered by her roaming eyes. You felt your body freeze in place under her stare. To her, you must appear to be a couple but alas, that was not so. The woman and Jungkook had a brief discussion as he then said what he wanted and she confirmed the order. She shouted for another member of staff who lead you to a closed of seating area.

"Another reason I like here are the private booths that are separate rooms with doors."

"How did you find this place? Are we near the dorm?"

Jungkook took a seat on one side of the booth and you slipped in opposite. The young waitress took her leave after saying she'll be back shortly with your order. Once the door was shut, Jungkook rid himself of his mask and coat. You shrugged yours off, folding it and placing it on the bench next to you.

"I found it while I was walking to clear my head."

You remembered the time when he had went to Hongdae to clear his head, how many fans got worried because of it.

"It must be something you do often then."

"Geurae (Yeah)."

There was a knock on the door causing you to jump a little. The waitress appeared balancing a tray on one hand. She moved all the items onto the table and disappeared out the door. Jungkook pushed your drink and food towards you, singing the opening line to Coffee again. You shoved his shoulder across the table.

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Then why?"

"I like sweet things."

"That's why I'm your favourite then. I'm Kookie."

You choked on the bite of croissant. Once you finally recovered from your little coughing fit you saw Jungkook's smirk.

"You're anything but sweet. You're a pain in my ass."

He coughed, little bits of the blueberry muffin he had got for himself decorating his lips and chin.

"Ew~ You're gross!" You grabbed a fistful of napkins and threw them at him.

"You spat croissant at me first!"

"It was your fault!"

He narrowed his eyes at you as he wiped his chin. "I bring you to Korea to show you my favourite cafe and you spit at me in thanks." He shook his head. "Noona is mean."

"I told you not to buy me plane tickets. That makes you a disobedient dongsaeng. So I'm allowed to be mean."

He frowned, "Does Noona not want to be here with me?"

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, "I'm happy and mad about the fact you didn't listen to me. But yes, I do want to be here with you. You're my friend."

"Then shush."

Jungkook took the piece of muffin he had broken off and shoved it into your mouth with a satisfied smirk. You ate it with an annoyed grunt. Meanwhile, Jungkook brought his fingers to his lips, ridding them of crumbs.

"Pain in my ass." You grumbled, following the muffin with a bite of croissant and diverting your eyes from your friend's lips.

"I might turn out to be a good pain in the ass."

"A good pain in the ass? I don't think that exists."

You swore you saw his cheeks turn a faint pink but he quickly brought his mug up and took a few gulps. When he put it down the pink was gone and you chalked it up to a figment of your imagination.

"Where else are we going today?" You inquired and blew across the surface of your steaming drink.

"Surprise."

"But Kook-"

"I don't want to spoil it!"

"BunBun~" You whined.

This time you were sure it wasn't your imagination as his entire face became ruby red. You couldn't help but laugh as he stuttered and floundered, trying to act like he wasn't affected by the new nickname.

Finally after a minute or so he cleared his throat, "Fine. We're going to a fair. I know you no like rollercoasters so no point in taking you to an amusement park."

"Jjinja?" He nodded, sipping his drink. "Is there a big wheel?"

"Maybe."

"And bumper cars?"

"I hope so! I plan to beat you on them."

You pouted, "You're so competitive."

"We're not going until a bit later. I heard they do fireworks once the sun sets and I brought my camera with me."

You smiled and took a sip of your caramel latte, humming happily as the cream added to the sweetness of coffee and took away from the usually bitter edge. It was a combination you had learned about just before coming to Korea.

"Drink nice?"

"Yes, thank you."

He nods, eyes drifting to the mug.

"I've never had one."

You look at your own drink and then at his which was a lot darker in colour. You couldn't remember what he ordered, too busy worrying about the lady behind the counter.

"What are you drinking?"

"Cappuccino."

"D-do you want to try it?"

You offered him the mug.

"Aniya."

"Sure? It's good."

He hesitated for a moment, "If you insist."

He gently took the mug from your hands and brought it up to his lips to take a small cautious sip. On the outside, you appeared unaffected while on the inside you were practically screaming. His lips were on the mug you were drinking from. It was an indirect kiss with your bias. Your BIAS Jeon Jungkook! You managed a "Nice?" While willing yourself to hold it together when his tongue swiped across his top lip, catching a bubble of froth.

"Really good."

He took another sip causing you to narrow your eyes, "Yah!"

"I pay so it mine."

"But you bought it for me. Stick to your bitter cappuccino."

You swear to god you would die of heart failure if he took another sip. That smirk of his came back as he passed you your beverage. You stared dumbly at your drink for a moment. His lips had just been touching the same mug he was now expecting you to drink from. You felt your heart rate skyrocket. If you rotated the mug an inch clockwise you realised the lighting above allowed you to see his exact lip print. Wow. Would it be weird to turn the mug and drink from that side even though he'd been polite enough not to do that? A poke to you cheek brought you out of your daze.

"Noona?"

"Uh..."

"You okay?"

You hummed in acknowledgement, neither confirming or denying your feelings.

"Then drink."

He turned the mug slightly as he pushed it closer to you. Under the lighting, you noticed his lip print was now where your lips would be. You gulped knowing that he had done that accidentally but still you brought the hot drink up and placed your lips over his marks. You could faintly taste his lip balm on the rim. Was that the sound of your heart beat in your ears or had a thirty piece band of drummers decided to pay this sweet little cafe a visit? Sneakily, you licked your lips. Was it cherry?

"Do you want to taste mine?" He asked, eyes dancing over the rim of his mug.

"Too bitter." Your eyes widened as a thought came to mind, "Can we get candy floss later?"

"Sure, we can share."

"S-s-share?"

"Candy floss too sweet to eat by self."

He had a point there but still, you found that your heart continued to thunder away in your ears. This boy was going to be the death of you. A short while later, you finished your drinks and treats and were walking back to Jungkook's car. Or so you thought.

"Where are you taking me?"

"One more stop, then fair."

"Is this another surprise?"

"Ye." His reply came out somewhat muffled because he had put his mask back on along with his sunglasses since you were back in public. "I think you'll like it."

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips and skipped a little to keep up with him as a woman with a pushchair cut in front of you. Joining his side, he took your hand once again. It was so you wouldn't get lost, you thought. He was just looking out for his friend who was in a foreign country for the first time. It's not like it's the first time you held a friends hand. You knew these kind of actions could be platonic but it was difficult for you not to try and read into them. A part of you hoped that they were signs of budding feelings towards you yet you're more rational side told you not to be an idiot. That there was no way an idol would be interested in an ordinary person like you. And anyway, he was so insistent you be his friend, there was no chance of him hinting towards having any romantic feelings.

Resisting the urge to sigh, you focused on your surroundings. Where were you? It appeared he had stopped outside of an... arcade? Oh god no. You didn't want to deal with his competitive side. You knew you would constantly lose and that he would rub it in your face. He looked at you.

"Gwenchanha Noona?"

"Is this the surprise?"

"Maybe, maybe not. You zone out. I paused so you zone in."

You eyed the arcade, noticing a row of claw grabbing machines. You smirked and tugged on his hand.

"Can we play?"

He challenged you with a quirk of his brow.

"Are you prepared to lose?"

You shrugged and pulled him in the direction of the machines. Little did he know your hidden talent. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed you a coin, keeping one for himself.

"I figured that you'd let me keep whatever you win so I'm not overly fussed about winning."

The crane machine you led him to was full with anime plushies. You placed the coin in the machine and seconds later you were giving a cry of victory as a Genos plushie landed in the prize zone. Jungkook looked at the plushie in shock.

"Did you just-"

"Your turn."

You stand aside, clutching the plushie to your chest as Jungkook took his place in front of the machine.

"Watch and learn Noona."

"But I already won!"

"I'll win you as many plushies as you want."

"But I did win-"

"You'll have to buy a new suitcase just for plushies!"

You raise your arms in surrender. You didn't doubt his skills but silently willed him to fail to allow you bragging rights. But the world was not in your favour. He managed to grab two in one go. Levi from Attack on Titan and Izuku from My Hero Academia. He turned to you with a shit eating grin and passed the plushies to you.

"For Noona."

You accepted them with a pout.

"You can't suck at one thing?"

"The maknae never loses."

"Not even for me?"

Jungkook pressed a finger to his lips in mock consideration.

"Uh, no."

You gasp and smack him with the Levi plushie.

"Meanie!"

"Smack me with Levi again and I'll take him away."

"But BunBun~ You gave him to me."

He looked away from you at the nickname. As if he couldn't look you in the eye. You could get used to those kind of reactions. And now you knew how. You had a weapon against the Evil Maknae. He cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the games over your shoulder. You watched his eyes light up and followed his line of sight. You caught his arm as he began in the direction of the Dance Dance Revolution machine.

"Oh hell no!"

"But Noona~"

He pushed out his bottom lip, eyes wide and pleading.

"Please!"

"I can't dance!"

"I can dance but still fail on DDR. Should be fair."

"I have two left feet! I might fall and injure the both of us."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the game. You sighed and resigned yourself to the embarrassment that was surely about to happen. Jungkook was merciful and chose a song with low BPM.

"Put the plushies down Noona."

"I don't want to."

"Noona~"

"BunBun~" You whined, holding the dolls as tight as you could.

He strode over to your side of the game, grabbing hold of the Izuku doll and pulling hard.

"Don't break him!"

"Then let go!"

His left hand stayed on the plushie while his right disappeared into your coat. You let out a yelp of surprise and instantly dropped the dolls to stop his hand from assaulting your side further. He tickled you!

"Did... did you seriously just tickle me?"

"Only way to get Noona to let go."

"You tickled me!"

"Oh well."

"Little shit."

"Startue."

Your eyes flew to the screen when the sound of music hit your ears and you immediately started to panic.

"I thought you chose an easier one!" You yelled, eyes trained on the screen as you frantically moved your feet.

"I did! Keep up!"

You spared a second to steal a look at Jungkook's screen. 'Perfect.' 'Perfect.' 'Perfect.'

"What the fuck? How are you going this?"

"Golden Maknae." He replied with a smirk.

"This isn't fair at all."

You swore under your breath as your feet tried to keep up with the arrows on screen. Your own clumsiness had you so riled up you started letting out little frustrated shouts.

"It's rigged!"..."What the fuck I hit it!"..."Try to tell me I missed again!"

Jungkook was laughing at your antics, one hand clutching the bar behind him to keep him upright as the giggles caused him to trip over his own feet.

"Noona~ stop!"

"This game is playing me! I won't be made a fool of by a machine!" You growled.

Frustrated beyond belief, you stomped a foot just as the song came to an end. You glared at the screen showing your pathetic score.

"Noona really bad. Again?"

"No. All of the nope. Nu-uh."

He pouted which you mirrored. You refused to play another round of that god awful game. The little pout/staring contest continued for a minute or so before Jungkook gave a sigh of defeat. In a split second, you were grinning and stretched onto your tiptoes to pat his head.

"Thank you BunBun."

Settling back on the heels of your feet, you pretending like you didn't notice him gulp and run a finger under the edge of his turtleneck. You gathered the plushies in your arms, holding them against your chest like precious objects.

"Can we go to the fair now?"

Jungkook's eyes widened in realisation and he lifted his sleeve to check the time.

"Oh shit! Give me some plushies to carry."

You passed him Levi and Genos. Levi ended up in his coat pocket so he could free up a hand to grab your hand and drag you out of the arcade and back to the car park. You broke into a fit of giggles when he insisted on strapping the small dolls into the back seat.

"Safety first, safety second-"

"-coolness third." You finished for him.

He chuckled and climbed into the driver's seat.

"I should watch what I say. You never forget."

"I have a very good memory."

"I can see."

He drives off. You watch out the window as the skyscrapers diminish to smaller buildings that appear more residential. It was a shame the because of light pollution you couldn't really see that many stars as the sky grew darker. You wondered if all fairs across the world were the same. Would this one have a Ferris wheel? Would there be games with prizes to be won? You hoped the was a target practice booth that used pellet guns because you were surprisingly good at that one. The car suddenly banked right, and you squeaked in surprise.

"Sorry," Jungkook said, straightening the steering wheel. "Almost missed the turning."

"You suck at driving."

"Yah!" He flapped a hand at you, "I'm the best driver out of all the members!"

You chuckled, "Eyes on the road."

He shook his head and muttered quietly, "The disrespect."

The road curved and before you knew it, the view was a sea of multicoloured lights. A wheel glowed proudly above what Looked to be small rides and huts you assumed would be for games or food. You couldn't help yourself and started bouncing in your seat out of sheer excitement. You heard a chuckle come from Jungkook but you paid him no attention as you grabbed your phone and set its camera into pro-mode to take pictures of the fair from afar. He followed the few cars in front and pulled into a field for a makeshift car park. You wasted no time unbuckling your seatbelt and jumping out of the car before Jungkook had even turned the engine off. He hopped out after you, rounding the car to the trunk and opening it to grab his camera. Hooking the strap over one shoulder, he turned to you and held out his hand. Did your heart just skip a beat? You're pretty sure it did. A sudden shyness came over you as you tentatively took his offered hand.

"Come on Noona! Let's win lots of prizes together!"

The fairground was bustling with people from groups of teenagers waiting in line for rides, to families with smaller children clutching plushies larger than themselves.

"What do you want to do first?" He asked as you wandered through the crowd.

You were surprised no one was paying that much attention to you since you'd been able to see through his disguise in an instant. Then again, he was your bias; you'd be able to point him out in a sea of millions.

"Um... can we look around the booths first? I want to save the wheel for last."

"Good idea."

You walk past the food trucks, thankfully you weren't hungry, towards a line of booths where games were set up. The first was a simple game: knock all the tins down and win a prize. Easy. Or as it turned out, not so easy. The tins were stacked in such a way that even knocking out the centre one didn't send them all tumbling. You growled in frustration and tried again going for the bottom right tin to see if that would work. Nope. Only half the tower crumpled.

"What the hell?" Stomping a foot like a petulant child, you turned to Jungkook who was lowering his camera. "Were you taking pictures of me?"

He nodded, biting his lip.

"Is that okay?"

"No. You got me failing to knock the stupid things down."

To show your frustration, you threw the last ball, hard. It knocked the top can but nothing else fell.

"You're doing it wrong." He said, grabbing three balls.

"Well how do you do it right then?"

Jungkook smirk then brought his arm back only to swing it forward. The ball left his hand at such speed you didn't actually see what tin it hit to send all the others toppling down with it. You looked back at him amazed, mouth agape.

"H-how-?"

He shrugged nonchalantly then raised his arms and kissed each bicep.

"Golden Maknae powers."

You shook your head and bit your lip to stop yourself from giggling. He was well and truly a meme. Your attention turned back to the booth when the man that ran it brought over a giant Panda plushie and passed it to Jungkook with a smile and... was that an eyebrow wiggle as he gestured to you? It was! The owner of the booth thought you and Jungkook were on a date! Do you protest it? Jungkook seemed oblivious to the suggestion and thrust the panda at you.

"Name it!"

You eyed the man who was watching you, lips lifted into a smile. Who cared what others thought. "He's yours, you name it!" You said pushing the bear back at him.

"Aniya! I won him for you. Name him."

You felt your hands become clammy as you took the panda from Jungkook. What could you name the panda? You already had a small black bear called Kookie... You thought hard about it for a moment. Oh!

"Munui!"

Jungkook stared blankly at you.

"You're calling Panda 'Pattern'? Really?"

"He's got a check shirt on, that's a pattern!"

You protest, fiddling with the small article of clothing. You had no idea why the panda was wearing a check shirt and nothing else, but it reminded you of something.

"It's like the shirt you wore in those selcas when you were wearing bunny ears."

Jungkook suddenly started coughing and spluttering.

"Are you okay BunBun?"

He pulled down his mask as he tried to regain composure by taking deep breaths. What was it about bunny ears that set him off? He said he hadn't read all of the fanfiction you had written so he couldn't have gotten to the smut scene where the reader wore bunny ears. Unless he was lying... you gave him a suspicious look.

"Exactly how much of my fanfiction did you read?"

He gulped, diverting his gaze from you.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you keep nearly dying whenever I call you BunBun."

On cue, he scoffed, turned away from you as coughs racked his body.

"I-don't know w-what you m-mean."

You pointed accusingly at him, "That! That is what I mean!"

He cleared his throat before looking back to you.

"I promise I read small amount. Opening. I read the opening part."

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Then you sighed. Bunny ears and the nickname of BunBun were mentioned in the opening to the fic.

"Fine. I'll believe you for now."

He muttered something under his breath but a cacophony of yells from a nearby ride masked it. You glanced around at the other booths when something-no, someone caught your eye. A group of girls were looking in your direction. They couldn't have been any older than fifteen. Shit.

You transferred the Panda to under one arm and quickly reached up to fix Jungkook's mask back in place while whispering, "There's girls behind you staring at us."

"Huh?"

He looked round and spotted them, causing the girls to look away and giggle. He then looked back to you.

"Hopefully they'll think I'm look alike since I'm still wearing sunglasses. Come on let's go to another booth Noona."

He grabbed you by the sleeve and headed in a direction that hid them from the group of girls.

"Oh! Let's go this way." You said, subconsciously slipping your hand into his to direct him towards a booth that you hoped you'd see.

Jungkook let you guide him through the people and to the booth where targets were set up. He stopped a few times whenever a photo opportunity arose but eventually you made it over to the stand. The woman running the stall explained the price and the rules to Jungkook who in turn explained them to you. You nodded in understanding and put the required amount on the counter to receive 6 pellets for the BB gun that was chained to the counter. The pellets had to be loaded per shot and to win a prize you had to shoot 6 targets down. Something you did with ease as Jungkook watched you load and fire with a practised hand. You cocked the gun, and brought it eye level, looking down the barrel at the target. Bang! You squinted at the target. You were a little off centre but it wasn't too bad, near perfect. You turned to Jungkook with a shit eating grin.

"Your turn."

Jungkook quickly paid the woman for his own pellets and quickly loaded his gun. He brought it to eye level. Bang!... Miss. He wouldn't be getting the prize. He looked wide-eyed at the target while you laughed clutching a new small stuffed kitten from having hit all of your targets.

"You missed! Jeon Jungkook the Golden Maknae missed!"

His head snapped to you, "Keep your voice down!"

You grimaced before going straight back to gloating, "I can't believe I got to witness you being bad at something. The members are going to kill me." You snorted, "Chong, jojun, balsa my ass."

You doubled over as you feel into a fit of giggles. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes you saw he too was laughing at his own defeat.

"It's okay since I lost to Noona" He managed to say once you both finally stopped laughing.

You held out the kitten soft toy to Jungkook.

"You can have it. I don't want you going back to the dorm without any prizes."

"But it's Noona's. You won it."

"And you won the panda but still insisted I have it."

He took the kitten from you, holding up at eye level as if it were real.

"What should I name you?"

His eyes dropped to you and then back to the cat, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips. Why was he looking at you like that?

He turned the cat around to face you, "Y/n meet Bae, Bae meet Noona."

"You... you're calling the kitten Bae? Do you mean Bae as in 'pear' or Bae as in 'stomach' or perhaps you mean the Danish meaning of Bae as in 'poop'."

"Namjoon hyung says Bae means an important person in English." He explained. "Noona is important to me-" You coughed. "-and she give me cat so I call it Bae."

Should you tell him he'd misunderstood what Namjoon meant by an 'important person'? You decided you should so he wouldn't make the same mistake in the future.

"Jungkook... when Namjoon said 'important person' he meant a romantic partner. A boyfriend or girlfriend."

He whipped off his glasses to reveal his eyes blown out comically wide, "Really?"

You nodded, blushing.

"Oh," He said and toyed with the cat. "That makes more sense."

"So shouldn't you change its name?"

He frowned, "No, I like Bae."

"But-"

"She looks like a Bae, don't you think?" He bumped the kitten's nose against yours with a "Boop!"

You couldn't help but giggle.

"I guess she's your bae then. Just make sure not to let any future girlfriends know you already have a bae."

"I don't think they would mind."

You felt your heart sink a bit a the thought of him going into a relationship but you knew you had no right to feel that way. You felt a nudge against your arm and looked down at Bae.

"Hold her, I will take a picture."

He turned on his camera and told you to move so the light of the Ferris wheel was behind you.

"Why do you need a picture of me?"

"I want to remember forever."

You made sure to hold up the stuffed toy high enough to cover most of your face except your eyes to hide. All the while Munui was under your arm and squeezed against your side.

"Noona~ Don't cover your face."

"I have the feeling you'll post this to Tumblr so... no."

"I want people to see Noona having fun!"

"They don't need to see my face for that."

"Noona~" He whined.

You were sure he was pouting under the face mask and relented with a sigh.

"Fine."

You lowered the cat to beneath your chin and offered him a quick smile. He took the picture and lowered his camera to view it. You joined his side. You looked at the preview on the camera.

"Oh god. I'm not photogenic at all. Delete it."

"Aniya~ Noona ibnida gwiyeoun (Noona is cute)."

The compliment made you look down and fiddle with your sleeves.

"Let me take one of you."

You swapped the toys for the camera and positioned Jungkook where you had been previously stood. He pulled down his face mask to smile brightly, his bunny teeth on show for the word. You got ready to take the picture, BANG! You screamed. A firework exploded behind Jungkook. Jungkook gasped and snatched your hand to drag you to the Ferris wheel.

"Better view on the wheel!"

You held onto your panda tightly as Jungkook practically ran to the Ferris wheel with you trying not to trip over your own feet as you kept pace. You were thankful the queue was short and in no time you were being helped into a carriage. Jungkook climbed in first and you took a seat beside him. You handed him back his camera so he could take pictures.

"Look at all the lights." You said, peering through the window to look at the fair below as you began to slowly rise.

"Yeppeoda" You heard Jungkook say.

You looked over at him to see if he had been looking out his window. But you were surprised to find him looking at you. You found yourself unable to look away. Butterflies swarmed your tummy when he pinched his mask to pull it down and wet his lips. The action, although subtle, was enough to bring you out of your daze. You looked away willing yourself not to blush.

"Didn't you want to take pictures of the fireworks?"

"Ye."

He fiddled with a few buttons atop the camera body and raised it to his eye, taking a picture. Viewing the image he frowned; the carriage door ruined the shot. He went to take another picture, scooting closer and leaning across you to point the lens out the window.

"Sorry, Noona." He muttered.

The scent of his bodywash filled the air around you as he leant across. Sandalwood. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried not to let his proximity affect you. He snapped a few photos and then sat back in his seat, although there was considerably less space between you than there had been when you first set off. Your heart was thumping against your ribs, and your thigh was warm where it was pressed against Jungkook's.

"Noona?"

"Ye?"

He licked his lips as his hands ran over his thighs, seemingly nervous. His eyes stared into yours and time seemed to stand still for a moment... until he turned to look out the window.

"Thank you for spending the day with me."

You knew your cheeks tinged pink and were grateful that he wasn't witness to it. But there was something that confused you. What could possibly make him so nervous? Urged by a sudden stroke of boldness, you tentatively place your hand on top of his which rest on his thigh. His head whipped around to you, gaze dropping to his lap then slowly creeping up to meet your eyes.

"...Y/N..."

You must've been imagining it because you swore he was looking at your lips. Was he leaning towards you? But then the door to your pod opened. You two quickly got off of the Ferris wheel and Jungkook cleared his throat.

"Let's get candyfloss to share."

You found a food truck with bags of the sweet treat hanging from the canopy, but he pulled you away.

"We passed one of those machines by the target practice. They swirl it into flowers"

You gazed longingly at the bags, but the idea of watching someone spin sugar into the shape of a flower seemed interesting. Jungkook quickly found the vendor the made the candyfloss flowers.

"Hana hae jusibsio (one please)."

The vendor smiled and got to work. Both you and Jungkook stared in amazement as the sugar was moulded into the shape of a multicoloured flower. It grew so big you doubted you and Jungkook could eat it all. The man handed the flower to Jungkook who in return paid for it.

He then turned to you, "A flower for Noona."

You took the stick from him and stepped aside to allow those waiting behind you to be served. You took a pinch of the sugary treat and ate it, moaning as it dissolved on your tongue. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook stiffen and you think you heard him mutter something under his breath. You turned to him and held out the sugar flower to him in offer. Instead of picking a piece off as you had done, he chose to bite a chunk right out one of the petals. Pink sugar clung to his lips and the tip of nose. Rolling your eyes at his antics, you grabbed a napkin from the vendor and wiped the tip of his nose.

"You're a child."

"Aniya. Naneun Namja (I'm a man). I had coming of age ceremony."

You laughed.

"That don't mean shit unless you act like an adult."

You took another piece of candyfloss, bigger than the last piece you had. You ended up with blue sugar stuck to your bottom lip which Jungkook wiped away with the pad of his thumb. He brought it to his lips, sucking it clean. You looked away as his eyes swivelled back to yours.

"I should have taken a picture of it." He said, pinching off another, smaller, piece of the flower and stuffing it in his mouth.

"It's too tasty to waste time taking pictures."

"Are you saying that if you think something is good you should just live in the moment rather than try to capture the moment?"

"I guess so yeah."

A bunny grin spread across his lips, "Then I shall live in this moment with you Noona."

You couldn't keep the smile off your face, even as you walked back to the car with your cotton candy flower in one hand, panda under the other. He opened the car door for you, taking Munui and Bae and strapping them in the backseat with your other plushies.

"You treating them like they're children."

An awkward chuckle came from Jungkook as he scratched the back of his neck.

"They're precious because they're Noona's and Bae was won by Noona."

An 'aw' slips from your lips. He climbs into the front seat and puts the car in drive. You wonder if he was going to take you back to the hotel.

"Are you going to drop me off?"

"Ye. After long day Noona must be tired."

The drive back into the city was relatively silent and Jungkook focused on the road due to the lateness of the evening. You must have fallen asleep during the drive as you awoke to Jungkook nudging you awake.

"We're here Noona. I hope you enjoyed today."

You smiled, "I loved today." His face lit up but then fell as you got out of the car. "See you tomorrow Kookie."

You were ascending the hotel steps when a shout came from behind you, "Noona!" You turned on your heel to see Jungkook rushing towards you, arms full of plushies. "You can't forget these."

"Thank you."

You wondered how the hell you were going to squish them all in your suitcase.

"Noona forgot her precious prizes that I won for her." He said with a pout.

"I'm sorry I must be really tired."

"Noona should go to sleep soon then."

"Ye."

"Annyeong Noona."

"Annyeong BunBun."

He lingered for a moment as if there was something he wanted to say or do, before shaking his head and jogging back to his car. You made it into the hotel and took the elevator to your floor. In your room, you arranged the plushies on one side of the bed before taking a shower. When warm and cosy in your pyjamas, you debated whether to order room service but didn't find yourself particularly hungry and decided to have a big breakfast in the morning instead. Your phone had been buzzing away with unread notifications all day, so you grab your laptop and open all your SNS accounts. To which you are greeted by the sight of a Tumblr post by Jungkook. A picture of you holding the kitten cuddly toy with the caption 'My Bae'.

You paled knowing that people must have misunderstood you clicked on the notes for the post (there was a lot). Immediately you saw reblogs saying ‘I ship it' or ‘My ship is sailing'. They had even come up with a ship name. Of course, there were negative comments too. They were either along the lines of questioning who you thought you were or calling you a slut which you didn't quite understand. The urge to write a reply defending yourself made your fingers dance just above the keyboard. But deep down you knew that wasn't a good idea as people would only take your words out of context.

And of course, you got bombarded with asks because of it. You put most of those asks into one post and explained that Bae is the name of the cat and he had misunderstood the meaning of the word when he named it. Your audience, however, wasn't as broad as Jungkook's and you watched his post gain more and more attention while yours grew slower. You sent him a text asking him to reblog your post which he agreed to. And then your post was gaining notes and your ask box became even more full with questions of ‘why does it look like you're on a date?' And ‘you won him that kitten plushie!!! Aaaaaw~ My ship is sailing!!!'

You sighed. It wasn't a date though. You were Jungkook's friend and he had wanted to show you around. You'd held male friends hands before and given them gifts. Yet there was still a part of you that wanted what they were saying to be true. You solemnly replied with ‘It wasn't a date, just an outing between friends.'

The following messages made you feel worse. 'Aw, but you two are cute together.' 'I think my heart just broke :'('  

You didn't answer those asks. Instead, you just deleted them. You knew Jungkook followed your blog and that publishing those asks might make him become awkward around you. There were an ask that caught your eye 'You two clearly like each other. Date already.'

That made you chuckle. They thought Jungkook had a crush on you. What kind of weird alternate universe did they live in? Admittedly, you were attracted to Jungkook, had been for years, he was your bias after all. But the possibility of Jungkook liking you, plain old you, was ridiculous. You wanted to reply, you really did but they were on anon so you couldn't do it privately. So again you deleted the message. You put up a PSA asking for to stop sending anons about the picture Jungkook posted because you could not respond to them without risking Jungkook freaking out since he follows you.

This only prompted more asks to flood your inbox as people grew more curious about your relationship, or lack thereof. 'Why would Jungkook freak out? Sounds suspicious to me...' 'Block him, we won't tell!!'

You couldn't help but respond with 'Imagine if you followed your friend on Tumblr and they saw you responding to all these asks saying you should hurry up and date. Wouldn't your friend freak out?'

You waited for a response. It came not a minute later, 'You're clearly not just friends though???'

Your patience was growing thin. How did they not understand? 'Guys and girls can be just friends. They can hang out and just friends. Or should I date all the guys I hang out with?'

You refreshed your inbox and saw a message from Jungkook. 'Noona, don't let messages make you sad or angry :( Ignore and let Jungkook deal with fans.'

You responded privately 'Thank You BunBun. Please don't take them too seriously.'

His reply came quickly, 'No worry Noona, BunBun doesn't mind.'

You had to muffle your fangirl scream with a pillow. Only a few hours ago Jungkook had been a blushing mess at the nickname, and now he was using it in third person. You palmed your face with two hands. Today and been a rollercoaster of emotions. You decided going to sleep would be best. You put your phone on the bedside table to charge and turned off the light. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep your phone buzzed. Jungkook had tagged you in a Tumblr post. You sat up in shock. At the top of the post was a picture of you playing the target practice game, gun held up to your chin as you aimed. That sneaky little- you scrolled down to read the text beneath.

'I had fun with my Noona today, Y/N-chingu. She's nice and funny. She's easy to make memes of. I showed her all my favourite places. But now she's going to bed grumpy because people are trying to force their ideas on her. I want a happy Noona, not a grumpy one.'

Aw. He almost sounded like a child. Though the meme part was uncalled for. There was more so you continued reading.

'Please no more mean messages. I want Noona to have good time in Korea before she go back home :( We will continue to make good memories. Goodnight!'

Aish. That maknae. You became pretty sure that more international fans would think you two were dating but oh well. Sleep was more important.

A/N: Co-written with @tragicshadows. If you want updates on TMaHS then find me on twitter @KookieNoona96. Hope you enjoyed this long af chapter. Do you think Jungkook was telling the truth when he said he had only read a small bit of BunBun? (BunBun is not the smut the tutor was worried about in earlier chapters by the way) And what was up with that Ferris wheel ride? I'd love to know what was going through Jungkook's head...

[an-island-of-bunnies]

Mistletoe Prompt: Octo!Dario Au

Happy fanfic Sunday! <3 I remember having a plan that I was going to do a mistletoe prompt for all the universes for Christmas. There goes that idea, LOL. So it’s late, but I still wanted to write the octo!Dario one. Hope you like! 

---

“This is soooo boring,” one of the octoling soldiers moaned. She and the other members of their squad were lazily sitting on the steel floor of their base. Behind them was the Zapfish, and in front, their weapons scattered across the floor. “No one is going to attack us during the squids’ dumb holiday, why did we even need to be here?” she complained, placing her knuckles on her cheeks. “Our leader didn’t have to show up.”

“I know, I stayed up all night binge watching my favorite shows in case we lose the Zapfish,” complained the other before letting out a yawn. “I was really hoping to sleep in today.”

“Why wouldn’t they attack us today?” asked the third octoling.

“You a rookie, #4?” the second asked. #4 nodded. “Today is Squidmas, and like, that’s the day all the squids stay home and do dumb things like wear ugly sweaters and wait for some stranger to break into their house.”

“...Why would they do that?”

“They’re not so bright, rookie.” The first octoling perked up from her position.

“Hey, where’s #3?” she called out.

“#3 said she was-”

“No, I’m here, I’m here!” They turned to see the last of the squad run their way. She had her hands behind her back, hidden from their view “Sorry, I went on a short scouting mission!” she explained. The octolings stared back at her.

“For what?” #1 asked.

“For these!” She pulled her hands from behind her and between her fingers was a plantlike object. “Y’know what this is?”

“A dumb plant?” #2 responded.The soldier grinned at her.

“Not just any plant! This here is a mistletoe!” She held it proudly above her head. “So apparently, the squids hang these in places and use these to kiss each other.” The soldiers made a disgusted face.

“Gross, they just kiss anybody?”

“Right? As long as two people are under it, they gotta kiss.” #3 laughed as the others made disgruntled noises.

“Why did you even look for a thing like that?” The octoling didn’t respond. Her smile only became a mischievous grin. She slowly stepped closer to the other girls, who all tensed up at the movement.

“Geez, I don’t know~ Maybe I wanna KISS YA!” The other octo soldiers cried out as they rose their feet, running from the third octo as she chased after them. “Come here, I just wanna celebrate ~Squidmas~!”

“Soldier! Quit goofing off!” #4 shouted, stopping in her tracks, “if we get seen by the enemy- ack!” #4 yelped as she was tackled by #3, who then planted a kiss on her cheek.

“No one’s coming, number three, relax!” #3 pushed the mistletoe into the octo’s hand. “Now come on, your turn!” she cried as she ran from her.

“I can’t believe I’m spending what should have been my day off like this,” groaned #2.

#1 laughed, “I don’t know, it sure beats just sitting around. Besides,” she pointed to the other octolings. “I don’t mind a smooch from those cuties.”

----

“... What are they doing,” said the boy octoling, watching the soldiers chase each other around from the floor above them.

“Aw, it looks like they’re having Squidmas fun,” Agent 3 replied, smiling in fondness at the sight.

“Squidmas?”  

“Yeah, Squidmas! You’ve never heard of it?” The octoling merely stared at him. Agent 3 sighed dreamily.

“It’s just a nice holiday about giving. You exchange presents, hang colorful lights, and sing Squidmas songs. A lot of people get the days off work so they can spend time with their family and friends.” Agent 3 gestured to the octoling holding the mistletoe. “See what they’re holding? That’s a mistletoe. If you get caught under it with someone else, you both have to kiss.” The octo soldier tilted his head, bewildered.

“Kiss?”

“Yeah!”

“What’s that?”

“...” The inkling blinked, taken by surprise. “What?”

“A kiss. What is it?” He stared at the other, trying to tell if the octo was being serious because there is no way he couldn’t- oh, he’s not joking.

“You… don’t know?” Agent 3 felt his cheeks heat up, a faint blue coloring them. “U-um, well, it’s when you press your lips to something…. Or someone.” He sunk his head into his turtleneck, flustered.

“Why?” Oh geez.

“It’s just to show… that you… like someone…. Like… like like.” The octoling stared at him before shrugging and looking back to the others.

“So are you going to snipe them off or am I going to have to go down there?” Agent 3 blinked at the sudden change in topic. When the soldier didn’t get a reply from him, he pulled out one of his burst bombs. “Alright, I guess-”

“W-wait!” He grabbed the octo’s wrist. “I was thinking… do we really have to do it today?” The octoling scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“W-well... it’s Squidmas! You know?” 

“...I don’t think you understand the opportunity we have in front of us.” Agent 3 pulled back with a withdrawn sigh, fiddling with his jacket. “Who cares about Squidmas? If it was a big deal, you wouldn’t even be here.” The blue squid froze. Then he nodded sullenly, his tentacles drooping. 

“Yeah… you’re right,” he said quietly. The octoling rose a brow. Now that he noticed, Agent 3 wasn’t like his usual goofy self. He hadn’t been this whole day.

“Why are you acting weird? It’s like you-” The octo paused for a second, and Agent 3 avoided his eyes, sure that he figured it out. “Did you… want to spend it with me?” The squid gave an embarrassed look, before shaking his head.

“W-what? No! You’re an octoling, you don’t eve- and we’re barely even friends! H-How could I think you and I would ever-”

“So why would you want to spend it with me?” the other continued, unaffected. Agent 3 stammering, and looked to the floor. Should he tell him? He wasn’t sure. He barely really knew the octo, even with all the time they spent together, and yet…

“I… don’t really have anyone else to spend it with,” he said, reaching to rub the back of his neck. He still wasn’t looking at the octo, didn’t check for his reaction, but he was sure the other was going to scoff at him.

“... You don’t?” It was a little surprising of how quiet the octoling said those words, as if he was being careful. Except Agent 3 knows he wouldn’t care about hurting his feelings. So he risked glancing at him and… what was that he saw in his face? It was… still very indifferent (those fucking goggles). He couldn’t really pinpoint it, so he continued,

“No. Well, I mean… I have a friend…? Sort of?” The octo stared into him, and the agent cowered into his turtleneck again. “D-don’t look at me like that…”

“I… didn’t think you’d be like…” He stopped himself, and the squid’s tentacles pointed up.

“Be like… who? You?” The octo clicked his teeth.

“No.” But he didn’t say anything more. Agent 3 thought he shouldn’t push anymore, though, so he looked back at the octoling girls. They had all tired themselves out, sitting closely and chatting with each other. Occasionally, they’d laugh at something, and he felt uneasy, a knot building in his chest.

“... Fine,” he heard the other said, and he looked back at him.

“What?”

“We’ll leave them alone today.” Agent 3 stared at him for a while, unsure if the other was serious. But there he was, putting his burst bombs back into his utility belt. Agent 3 smiled wide.

“So then… you wanna do Squidmas with me?” The octo stretched his neck.

“Since I got nothing else to do now…” And boy, what a reaction that got from the squid. Agent 3 jumped up and wrapped his arms around the other’s waist, grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew you weren’t totally heartless!” he cried, and the other groaned.

“I can still change my mind.” Agent 3 let go.

“No, no! Come on, just meet me at the shack. I gotta buy some stuff so we can do Squidmas right.” He gripped the octo’s hands and tugged him away from the girls “Let’s go!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying no to a free Zapfish day.”  Agent 3 laughed. “Just for today, alright? We’re coming back first thing tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah~”

----

“Actually I was kind of hoping we would take a longer break,” complained Agent 3 the next day, following the octoling to the end of the walkway. “I really wanted to show you the lights in Inkopolis, they’re real pretty and the-”

“I gave you Squidmas, be happy with that,” said the other. He stopped in front of the Zapfish, looking to the ink covered floor and making sure no more soldiers were going to show. “And I told you we were coming back. You’re going to make it up to me for making me miss an easy day. And for all the eggnog we drank that night.” Agent 3 grinned as he caught up with the octo.

“You liked it.”

“Almost as much as the singing.”

“You liked that too. Come on, you dig my voice, I can tell,” he teased. The octoling sighed before looking at the other, in an almost... timid way.

“You… didn’t have to get me the gift, though,” he said as he touched behind his ear, his fingers trailing over the new goggles he wore. Agent 3 grinned proudly.

“Aw, it wasn’t a big deal. I couldn’t get you the real thing but I thought you could use a pair that wasn’t dented everywhere.”

“I didn’t have many options.”

“I know. But now you do. I’m glad you liked it.” Then the other didn’t respond, merely staring up. “What’s up?” he asked, before following his gaze.

There was a mistletoe. Hanging directly above them. Agent 3 felt his cheeks warm at the sight before playing it off with a laugh. “Haha, looks like they were still having some leftover fu- !” He went silent when the octoling pressed his lips against his cheek. And kept it there for a few seconds. And for each second that passed, his heart was racing more and more. Then the other pulled back and made to grab the Zapfish, as if nothing happened. 

“Y-you…” Agent 3 stammered, his face growing incredibly warm. 

“Merry Squidmas,” said the octoling, tucking the Zapfish firmly in his arm before taking off. Agent 3 stared in the direction he left in, before touching his cheek.

“A-ah… right…,” he said quietly, before realizing. 

“W-wait, that was over yesterday! Hey!” he called, before running off to chase after him. 

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Saw a tag game that was “unconventional tags”, and I was going to reblog but I wound up having TOO MANY tags per prompt! 

So out of sheer curiosity, I’m going to share what The Entire Selection of Tags with “chocolate”, “kill”, “done”, “try”, “stop”, and “why” is in this post! (Be warned: There are MANY and I only remember the context for about a quarter of these. I was able to dig up 92 tags for “why” alone. But I’m rather curious and analytical, so of course I’d tag a lot of Why’s...... anyways! Here goes! It is LONG.)

Lots of personal considerations, a hefty dose of OC and Titans-related fandom tags, 

Chocolate:

#(but like... chocolate AND cherries....~<33333 )

#I wonder if I could use gluten-free oreos (i.e. ''''chocolate sandwich cookies'''') as the crust instead.... ooooh i'm gonna try that!!

#but I've never had to buy anything and try to sell it besides... like. Malley's Chocolate Bars and other such candy bar fundraisers.

#i was at work for 12 hours but then I got home and went ''FUCK IT'' and ate some chocolate cake and a bagel with eggs???

#Dove will bring her a cup of tea or hot chocolate and sit with her for awhile. Maybe talk through some things with her.

#PB+chocolate can be either GREAT or /awful/ depending on the brand.

#Dark chocolate is more of a Dry and Astringent Texture thing for me.

#It's as essential in my plot ideas as chocolate is in hot chocolate. Just can't possibly make it without it.

#anyways: Peanut butter + chocolate is good. I like the fancy hazelnut spreads with peanut butter swirls.

#Mint+chocolate is good as Andes mints but bad as peppermint patties. Again; it depends on the brand. LOVE it in ice cream!

#i'm suddenly reminded that i bought myself an entire whole-ass chocolate silk pie Because I Wanted It SO BAD

Kill:

#nice to know the life skills i learned at chipotle haven't left me. 8FFFFF

#And I've always obsessively cataloged knowledge of canon. so when I found out all of Raven's half-siblings were killed (or their mothers)?

#Kary has a fairly good Innate sense of direction. but she had to develope a Real Skill for it when she was living feral.

#not the ''i'm gonna kill my favorite protagonist'' part but like. the emotional Twist there

#Anyways any and all Shakespeare except Midsummer Night's Dream bored me to hell. To Kill a Mockingbird INFURIATED me.

#SECONDING The Great Gatsby. I also really hated the ending of To Kill a Mockingbird. The story itself was good but that ending?

#Well I guess he GOT TO KILL HIM AFTER ALL now DIDN'T he

#''DON'T KILL IT I'LL GET IT OUTSIDE IT'S OKAY''

#kill mary-sue witch hunt culture! KILL IT DEAD

#it's Ten Percent Luck and Twenty percent skill if you're referencing the song I think you are but i see your point

#I have a 0.07 skill level when it comes to Playing By Ear and chords. But this is LOVELY so far even if it IS simplified

#it's okay you can say Kill la Kill

#excuse me as I kill my throat from gasp-laughing too harsadddnamfwje

#it wasn't until i literally shouted at a doctor that I was going to kill myself if they couldn't help me that someone actually DID SOMETHING

#you could never kill me in a way that matters

#he's also the only one who Actually tried to kill the Joker. so.......

#did you know bugs feel A Jolt of Pain when you kill them? I don't know what the heck the science-y anatomical cause of that is

#kill the idea that yelling/screaming is Normal and Healthy! Because it's not! It's absolutely NOT.

#But yeah! There's no better way to learn a skill than looking to the people who have already mastered the skills you want to learn.

#''Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd; the next Breonna Taylor; the next Tamir Rice?''

#those herbs DON'T KILL VIRUSES like alcohol does!!

#''what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'' yeah but it leaves you with Serious Vulnerabilities that you have to spend your

#''Lots of villains.'' ''I will KILL YOU boy!'' GODS

Done:

#for me/aries it's much more the ''i want to fix it then and there and then it's done'' but really I don't play the blame game.

#seriously they've done SO MANY studies on creative hobbies and there are generations of stories from people who've had them

#so really nothing gets DONE about the diagnosis? but he gets Super Curious and reads a TON of articles and studies and books about it

#But let's take stock of how many times I've already done this shall we?~

#nicely done though??

#I can Never Get ENough of writers who've done as much off-novel characterization as Neil and Sir Terry have done with Good Omens

#That was REALLY well done as far as a Mind Games sort of horror story goes

#You shouldn't expect people who have Done a Lot of Growth and Shown a Lot of Potnetial to ForeveR Hide and Eradicate Their Past.

#this webcomic isn't my style personally but it IS really well done and I recommend it to anyone who likes the above things!

#with the tags out of the way: THAT'S BECAUSE 9/!! was PLAYED to THEIR BENEFIT (or: possibly even done by the govt themselves)

#and they pay shit and work us to the bone because they won't staff. But this post is... PROOF that it can be done BETTER.

#''i was born on the way home from the gym and then I will be able to get it done before the end of the day''

#!!! This made ms so HAPPY to see! Pink's speech patterns being recognized and analyzed was... not something i'd ever done before?

#I have to have some things done before my executive dysfunction will let me engage in other tasks or else I get like.... gridlocked?

#kpop fans get things DONE don't DOUBT them

#I have a LOT of trouble recalling when something was Done First or Subsequently. And I absolutely CAN NOT remember dates.

#It's human to need help sometimes and with all you've done for your loved ones

#and once THAT'S done I should be able to post the chapter!!! Which... given that I'm not absolutely mentally exhausted from work anymore

#I can't IMAGINE what I'd have done if I suddenly lost ALL of them and had to fight on alone.......................

#AHHH the idea of Damian adopting a rabbit! And Raven petting it! (house bunny because I refuse to condone illegal wildlife theft)

#they've done it! they've broken my fanfics down to the bare essentials!

#to do so when I see people like this. I'm done letting people back me into a corner and forcing me to cower.

#and between all the reading I've done on humanized superheroes and this show: I know that's basically my favorite trope.

#Enrichment Done Right!!

#Teaching done RIGHT!

#I'll admit: I'm curious to see how Gabriel and Kami actually describe their relationship? Because when it's built up properly and done RIGHT

#okay so I've done some research and this seems to be ACcepted on reddit but Hotly Debated everywhere else

#and it wasn't until Last Year and my sister that I trusted with it was a cosmetologist-- after I'd done SO MUCH work on healing from abuse

#It was the first forest that ever opened its heart to me. The only one that has done so as thoroughly....

#I have written like three quarter-done sex scenes but always drop off it before I get ot the Really Porny Parts because No Interest

#seriously they've done SO MANY studies on creative hobbies and there are generations of stories from people who've had them

#But let's take stock of how many times I've already done this shall we?~

#nicely done though??

#the things she had ACTUALLY said or done to me. Telling them the way she hurt me.

#have you... have you never done that???

#...hmmm... I like the Battle Cry idea. I don't know what my own creaming sounds like though. I've never... done that.

#I can Never Get ENough of writers who've done as much off-novel characterization as Neil and Sir Terry have done with Good Omens

#i scored 33-actually-34 though. the ones i missed were the mother-daughters-grandmothers one-- which I still think it Done Wrong

#can confirm that you Do Get Way More Done when you're well-rested.

#nimue's not driving but she's already so done with it

#it could probably only be done When Angry.

Try:

#i went wild with google translate and ecosia and every search engine i could find TRYING to TRANSLATE ''cotorrito''

#If we're going to take on these forces of arrogance and bigotry: We have to stand UNITED. TOGETHER!

#poetry

#country

#pastry

#And for some reason everyone fucking LOVES it. I know it was an instrumental step in my poetry as it is NOW

#but I know that in poetry after a rhyme happens then te next line is Likely to start a new thought.

#''you're a deep thinker of deep thoughts a reader of poetry and a HEAVY user of your notes app.

#take this quite literally. because the one time i did try asking my STEPmother what was wrong she wound up screaming at me.

#I don't usually watch tiktoks but the comments convinced me to give this one a try and yes. this one Deserved It.

#my mother and I driving around country backroads trying to avoid the highways at midnight on July 4th

#I was going to try buying a gift card but i think that would be cheating a legit business owner out of money and I'm not about that.

#i refuse to give her a tag of her own. i know she Contributed^tm and technically it's not 'bad' poetry but I'm just not a fan personally

#is what I consider to be MY WORST POEM. It even got published in a goddamn poetry collection! What the FUCK.

#actually put your body into starvation mode. And what does the body do when it's starving? TRY DESPERATELY to HOLD ON

#~!America is the Best Country Ever!~ NO ''BEST'' ANYTHING would allow ANY human being to be treated like THAT!

#But the idea is to try finding those things and explore them. Make it fun! MAke it spooky! Make it exciting! Make it startling!

#i'd also have to try finding a time to watch it when someone else in the family isn't already monopolizing the TV....

#(because i'd.... really love to try holding and playing one of these of my own someday.)

#about living a monk-like life? i'd give it a goddamn try if i got literally ANY paid vacation time and had the money to fly to tibet...)

#.....from certain pizza places? I would try it.

#so like. Too LAte ot try it at THIS job

#Not just in stories either; do actually try it someday

#In this country it's basically Impossible to become ANY kind of politician without being am illionaire. Like it's Literally IMPOSSIBLE.

#Like... the thrift store industry is BOOMING right now because a lot of us are Too Poor to Buy Anything Else.

#''bitch TRY it i DARE you''

#sometimes you gotta get it out somehow and a journal entry just doesn't cut it

#i actually only know two lines out of the refrain of that song. But damn if I'm not going to try LEARNING it someday

#i've heard d+ shuts down accounts if you try logging in from new devices (such as my laptop) lately

#...huh. I haven't found a lot of country music before the 90's so I don't know how I feel about this.

#but i definitely agree with the Reasons People ''Hate Country Music Today''.

#(but also The country music style of singing feels like someone is using a cheese grater on my brain. I just... don't enjoy that;;)

#(''lyrics'' referring to the 90s/00s country music I know of. and know i can't stand.)

#(tagged as such because ONE DAY I really REALLY want to try my hand at a Big Gorgeous Absolutely Breathtaking Fish Tank!)

#Oooh I'm definitely going to incorporate that ''try not to leave the room'' when cleaning thing!

#i wish my stories could do that? someday. Someday maybe.... I'll try one of these days.

#Sigh... the Artistry of this crew.

#i can't believe i'm living in the most ragged-on state in the more ragged-on COUNTRY of the entire internet.

#most of the time the people who have the easiest time contacting spirits didn't try or ask for it. The spirits just kinda.... Found Them

#He has the skills necessary to cook. Just not... the Sense of Taste. He has the Artistry part down! Just not the Accuracy.

#((and i have to try REALLY HARD to get an image of what it Looks Like. except in very Rare and Special Moments.

#I'm not usually one for visuals but this quick animation is GORGEOUS and I can't tell you how TEMPTED I've been to try recreating it.

#and Leyla as a kid just wants to TRY STUFF

#i saw amy's shoulders sparkling and i was like! ''i LOVE that. i'd love to try some fairy-goth myself someday''

#Neurochemistry stuff!!

#why is his reaction so aNGRY honestly that was a REAL ACCOMPLISHMENT and some serious artistry she pulled off!

#try swarming a stun deck with THIS on the field. o.o

#tell me what i can tag this because it's absolutely fucking ABYSSMAL of our country to ALLOW this and absolutely FUCK anyone who says

#i'm gonna...... try that popcon one though

#(because my job has me outside in it for at least 3 hours a day no matter what medical history i try to show them)

#might have to try this....

#i'm gonna Try to sleep but i know my hyperficating nexus-steeped mind isn't gonna quiet down very quickly 8O

#for the record i did TRY using the Boolean Operator  syntax with ''low'' blood pressure in quotes. but it STILL gave me articles

#Raven: immediately Exhausts Herself to Hell to Try Undoing It

#yes i'm going to overanalyze and try understand every accusation of Ohio on my dashboard. why do you ask?

#i'm gonna... Try Wearing Make-Up!

#is it weird that i use almistry when drawing my ocs' hands?

#a little piece of her childhood home and her ancestry when the rest of the world and its people died.

#She might be a little embarrassed to share her poetry with people? I think she's pretty good at writing pretty words

#Or... if you feel so inclined: poetry you've written yourself?

Stop:

#but BY ALL the GODS can we STOP mocking and hating the people who DO have all these grand and lofty ambitions?

#stop blaming millennials for our shitty circumstances challenge.

#note to self: stop frekaing FORGETTING to schedule with a GE again!!! fuck's sake!

#stop being elitist because something's Different. it has its merits and it's not meant to be an International Film-Festival Masterpiece.

#(i did a Lot of stupid things at that house actually. there was a reason i stopped working with raphael......)

#except once i got the add diagnosis my teacher stopped commenting on my doodling.

#that cloak was the PERFECT compromise. It kept me a Little Warmer without getting too hot AND did a great job of stopping the too-cold wind~

#we stopped going to the daycare.. (And i know that because i got it for my 5th birthday. i was ENAMORED IMMEDIATELY)

#i've always read it the same way and didn't notice Why Everyone Stopped Liking Her but that also brought that particular Change to light...

#but on the other hand she Literally Accidentally Stopped Time... (And i have this... headcanon? let's call it a headcanon

#for something like stopping the end of  the world: Who (at least: who among HEROES) WOULDN'T put that to use?

#my all-time FAVORITE that I will NEVER skip a song from is Evanescence. HAs been for like 15 years now and that's not stopping.

#i don't foresee this rambling stopping for another 3 days tbh

#creepy guys try to follow you off your stop and get your number no matter how many times (with increasing ferocity) you tell them no.

#but can this fandom stop acting like pink intentionally hurt everyone for like 7 seconds???

#also if you're as powerful as zee it probably comes second-nature so why WOULDN'T you throw it around to stop an argument?

#it's an even split on how many people are willing to stop and talk to you. about one in ten will just outright ignore you if you say Hi

#why not stop at home and drop him off first? why send him into freaking SPACE???

#Don't stop believing. Don't stop moving forward. Don't let depression drag you down.

#do nothing but yell at you and tell you to calm down or shut up or Stop Being Yourself.

#i'm gonna stop before i suffocate on silent laughter but Wow This Is Good

#i can't tell you how many doctors i've been to that literally told me to stop crying when i Became Distressed from relating my symptoms...

#which i don't appreciate! brain stop calling me a wuss

#how do you... Stop Doing That?

#Stop Erasing Raven's Strengths!! Stop making her a stereotypical sitcom caricature! LET RAVEN BE SASSY

#Can people PLEASE stop equating the two things that don't necessarily (or often) go hand in hand?

#they're ALREADY filthy rich just stop fucking catering to them???

#and whenever I went to the bus stop for those mornings: I cawed to him. And rather than flying away as soon as he saw me

#Petition to make the fandom stop forgetting that Blue has a FIERCE side TOO

#i wish this freaking show would stop goddamn KILLING PEOPLE

#i can't stop giggling at that last gif though. oh my stars that's Great

#i... don't want to tag him ''bakura'' anymore because STOP GIVING HIM RYOU'S IDENTITY but at the same time... what ELSE do you call him??

#night-terrors/flashbacks / whatever? She will literally stop herself from sleeping.

#sorry i've made so many posts about this; I just! I can't stop HYPERFIXATING on this ONE DETAIL.

#like I was the kid who'd CRY when someone ripped wings off flies or legs off spiders. ''Stop it that HURTS!''

#but i tend to stop in the middle of books i'm not invested in. which is happening more and more often.

#She'll stop immediately and be like ''okay! let's talk about something else than!!''

#(a terrified telepath is twice as dangerous when she's unconscious and Can't Stop It. She knows that. So when she's having bouts of

#oh STOP it that was sweet!

#i mean you can't stop kids from seeing EVERYTHING. But we should at least be TRYING to protect them. You know?

#trying to help me figure out how to cope. basically everyone was like ''there's no way you don't notice three hours passing stop lying''

#oh my GOD I'm LAUGHING there are tEARS IN MY EYES I just!! I'm DEFINITELY imagining them and I can't STOP LAUGHING OKAY

#How do you stop looking back?

#(And then the night my spirit guide told me to stop LETTING myself be defined by her and that I can rise above my past and my parents...)

#but BY ALL the GODS can we STOP mocking and hating the people who DO have all these grand and lofty ambitions?

#Don't stop believing. Don't stop moving forward. Don't let depression drag you down.

#Stop Erasing Raven's Strengths!! Stop making her a stereotypical sitcom caricature! LET RAVEN BE SASSY

#There's SO MUCH in the Society6 store and all of it is GORGEOUS. I had to physically hold my hands to my chest to stop myself

#How do you.... Stop Needing the Sugar to Function though? I've tried like 4 adhd meds and they all have Awful Side Effects for me. :c

#for the record: salem was really more of just a stop on a field trip across literary and/or historical sites of New England

#can the universe STOP pointing me towards MORE triggers?  P l e a s e ? ?? ?????

#My heart wouldn't stop pounding and I was legitimately QUAKING even after I sat down. Luckily that manager was Compassionate

#until somebody told me to stop probably

#but i can't stop questioning myself. probably because Questioning Myself and Rigorously Guarding My Mind is the only reason I...

#EXCUSE you holy HECK that was!!! I WAS BREATHLESS AND COULDN'T STOP READING?

#Not Being Violent isn't the same as Doing Absolutely Nothing To Stop Shit in the world

#can we stop saying All Sugar Is Bad now? (it doesn't increase insulin resistance until you've consistently eaten A TON of it!)

#i will literally run into a room to stop someone from killing a spider in my vicinity. Cup and paper in hand

#now if they'd stop taking digs at fans who prefer the old show maybe that would actually MEAN something.

#and I'm LEARNING how to talk back to them (''stop talking ABOUT yourself and start talking TO yourself'')

#and do you know what happened to me in Honors English? My teacher literally told me to stop writing so much and stop thinking so hard

#(i will NEver Stop Tagging Change Your Mind as Spoilers by the way because BASCIALLY THE FINALE)

#and i think my eyes are broken because i can't stop tearing up. heck

#...i'm starting to think i should stop using my Anti Fascism tag. just ot be safe

#He doesn't even need to forgive her. But at the very least... can we stop villainizing the one who is the very reason Earth still lives?

#i'm Venting but also Suggestions on Actual Techniques that can make them fucking STOP would be appreciated

[seenashwrite]

There But For The Grace

Status: Complete Word Count: 3.3K Category: One-shot; Introspection; Mystery; Choices; Life journeys; Redemption  Rating: Teen & Up Character(s): Dean, Michael, Reader/O.C. Female, and... just read the story. Pairing(s): Read. The. Story. Stop wanting the endings at the starts, impatient young'uns Warnings: None Faux-Warning: There's no banging, so now that I've lost 80% of you... Author’s Note(s):  I'm told you're not a true fanfic writer unless you've done a coffee shop meet-up fic - kindly let me know if I got it right; more post-story Overall Summary: An archangel takes a break from his reconnaissance.

* ETA: FYI - Do NOT look at the comments before you read this, there’s been some spoilery stuff given away there! * 😉

. The list grew by the minute, and he had to admit to himself that the mundane task of collecting all his reasons was turning delightful.

The other world hadn't progressed to this level of corruption; likely it would've, had it not been for the brimstone, but that was neither here nor there. The worlds were identical, he'd learned, at least in the ways that mattered. Time nor space made a difference. Humans were, to be sure, utterly predictable.

Case in point: his most favorite time period from recent past had unfolded in precisely the same manner in both places, so much so he came as near to astonishment as he'd ever been. The roaring twenties were rife with sin, the pompous prohibitionists and the lust-filled liquor vendors, the mobsters with their massacres, and the bankers with their bloated greed. His distaste aside, it was beautiful. It was art, the way they crafted their depravity. Granted, it was nothing compared to his favorite time of all, but this was understandable; little could live up to Sodom and Gomorrah.

See there, hunter? I'm a salt-and-burn aficionado.

He'd successfully lulled the man whose body he'd snatched - no, that's not right. He did not steal. Theft is sin. The hunter had agreed to act as a vessel, it was witnessed, and while there was deception involved, one in his position must think of the greater good. And it should be noted that he did exercise benevolence. Angelic vessels did not fare well, exponentially so for archangel vessels, and it was poor form to run through them quickly.  

He knew firsthand how his brothers handled their hosts. Raphael would woo the humans with promises of a glorious afterlife, then promptly expel their souls the moment he got a foothold. Gabriel would talk them into giving up the ghost voluntarily (as Gabriel could talk practically anyone into anything), in an effort to keep himself guilt-free. And as the fall crept closer, Lucifer took to keeping them wide awake, poking, prodding, picking, til slowly but surely the glow faded to embers, finally snuffing them out upon growing bored.

But not him. He was the best of them all, no sense in being humble. He was different, so he did things differently. He pushed the hunter to the farthest reaches of the mind they shared, threats to family quelling the belligerence surprisingly easily.

Are you plotting? he'd asked early on, receiving no answer; they both knew it was rhetorical.

As their time together grew, he'd talk to the hunter on occasion - not aloud, of course - when he marveled at the things he observed, breathing it all in. It had been ages since he'd walked the earth peacefully. It was wonder he felt, and he knew it, and it bothered him. He had been tasked with protecting them, once upon a time, and it was easier then, they were more readily awed, or maybe just malleable. He'd begun to consider if subtlety and manipulation might be ideal this go-round, effective as plagues and floods and annihilation had been, albeit temporarily.

He'd been raised by a vengeful God, the new redemptive version that came with the birth of the prophet never quite sitting right with him, but he was an obedient son, absence or no. He was his Father's first son, he who was of God, the first angel there ever was, no matter what differing legends over the millennia might've said. The offenses the rest of the children, celestial-born and earth-bound alike, committed upon God's creation wouldn't have been tolerated back then.

Before. Before it all changed, right under his supposed watchful eye. Before he'd laid waste, in heaven and on earth. Before he'd gotten wrapped up in his plans, let his guard down. Before he lost all three of his beloved brothers in one way or another. Before he'd started paying attention again.

He wouldn't miss anything else.

And so it was that on his fact-gathering strolls, more and more he found himself slowing his pace, pausing, coming to a halt, damn near freezing in place when something would catch his eye, or touch his ear, or invade his nose, the latter of which stopped him cold this evening, just as twilight eased across the buildings around him, and streetlights flickered on, up and down a nondescript street in a nondescript town on one nondescript walk amongst many.

He went further down the sidewalk, and up the block, and continued around a corner, and there it was, the answer to the question of what heavenly smell had wafted his way.

.

Hallowed Grounds French and Italian Coffees est. 1922

.

In his experience, the fates were indeed fickle. On the other hand, he'd done enough surveillance that week to allow for brief relaxation, be someone else for a spell. Seemed the rough-and-tumble hunter had smoothed edges made ragged from eons spent on another plane, made him fractionally more flexible. Teaching lessons could wait one more night, he told himself.

Meant to be, don't you think?

There wasn't need for food or drink, but the hunter was practically a junkie on both fronts, and the palate was wide. This body was stronger than most, better equipped for him, as tailor-made things are, of course, but he had not anticipated how demanding it could be, how it would crave indulgence. Undisciplined. Annoying. Distracting. It was for that last reason he'd give in, keep bites small and sips slow, and the moment there was a sense of satiation, off he - they - would go, back on mission.

African coffee was the best, this was not merely a belief but a fact; French he'd always found bland, somehow; Italian was tolerable. He ordered an espresso, tipped well, and the barista behind the former bar said they had servers milling about, one would be by to check in, see if he needed anything else. And despite knowing he'd swallow less than a quarter of the brew, he took a seat at a table, back to people-watching. Not a one was interesting in the least.

He'd noted the woman carrying the steaming metal carafe walking briskly in the direction where he sat, but had already let his eyes roam away by the time she'd gone behind him, and she only had cause to cross his mind when a loud CLANK hit the air, and the sensation of a third-degree burn called out from his lower right leg and ankle. Several gasps erupted from close-by patrons, someone moaned "Oooooh!" in sympathy, and then came the babbling. 

It was the woman, the server, and she was alternating under-breath curses with self-deprecation - Such a stupid klutz! - Why'd I take this fucking job? There wasn't an apology to be found, not a lick of repentance.

She had his attention.

As she made her way around, the carafe - retrieved, now dented and empty - was plunked on his table, causing the espresso to slosh, and she surveyed the mess on the floor, closed her eyes, rubbed them, took a deep breath, then exhaled it far too quickly for it to have been of any use. Her eyes popped open. They instantly lit on his soaked trouser cuff.

"Jesus," she muttered, flat forehead going to a frown in a nanosecond.

And he frowned, too. Not that he'd been particularly impressed by or had much use for the prophet, nor had he bought into all the trinity talk - he'd found it offensive that any would be placed by the Father as an equal of sorts - but this was in the ballpark of blasphemy. Well, then. Another sinner joins the collection.

Now she'd dropped, and he arched an eyebrow as his head tilted down, feeling her rubbing - aggressively - on his shoe, sopping up the spilt coffee with a rag she'd had tucked in her apron's waistband.

"That pot was still hot as hell, it didn't get you, did it?" she asked, looking up at him from her kneeling position.

"No," he lied.

"Oh, thank God. I'd have been... if you'd been burnt, I would've... I am so sorry, sir."

Penitence looked lovely on her.

"You seem anxious, why don't you sit, rest for a moment," he suggested, and gestured to the empty chair across from him.

He kept his eyes locked onto hers; she gave him an odd look in return, but didn't have time to answer. Another table called out to her, so she broke the stare, told him she'd check on him again later, see if he wanted a refill - anything he wanted, on the house, she added - before rising and leaving his side.

He took her up on it. He paid for the one that followed. And he waited until the patrons had nearly cleared and the lights were being dimmed and the brooms were coming out. Someone else was sent to collect the fee for the still-full third.

Take a hint.

He followed the advisement - whether it was the hunter's or some sort of self-prompting, he couldn't say - and exited, though he didn't carry on with his reconnaissance, instead going down the tiny alley that led to the back of the building, leaning against a telephone pole that was partially in the shadows, settling in, keeping an eye on the side door of the coffee shop.

The hunter spoke up.

You suck at this.

Pray tell?

Trying to pick up a chick, get laid.

Orgasms are insufficient reasons for risking the creation of another abomination.

Go comb through my greatest hits, then we’ll talk about risks and rewards.

It took a half-hour of darkened silence before he began to grow irritable, and he stood from his lean, was straightening his overcoat when the door opened. She spotted him, pretended like she didn't, so he took a few steps in her direction. He was just about to speak when she whipped around, jerking something from her pocket. She immediately squirted a caustic fluid onto him, which did nothing, save prompting a confused expression to come across his now damp face.

Oh, for crying out----

Hush.

She coughed several times as a breeze carried the mist her way, though a subtle wave of his hand served to make it disappear, and soothed her stinging eyes and scratchy throat. He pulled out his handkerchief and blotted the moisture coating his cheeks. She watched, not moving an inch, her mouth hanging open ever-so-slightly.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said. "Please forgive me."

"That's the strongest mace on the market," she muttered. She looked at the tiny tube, sneered, then tossed it down the alley, where it hop-skipped out of sight. Turning her head back to him, she spoke again, this time warily. "You need money or something? You're not dressed like you need money."

He returned the handkerchief to his pocket, met her eye. "You think I waited here to rob you?"

"I don't... well why are you here?"

"I enjoyed your company and hoped to extend our time together." A pause, then he added, "I have no desire to have sex with you."

"Gee, thanks?"

He began to respond, hesitated, then opted to go with, "I'm told I'm not... not very good at... this."

"Making friends?"

"Mmmm."

"Well, it's... it's late."

He glanced at his watch. "So it is."

"And I don't even know your name."

"Michael."

"Michael. Okay. I have a brother named Michael. Mikey, if I want to piss him off."

"Were your parents religious?"

"What?!" she exclaimed, though she chased it with an amused grin. "You ask the strangest questions. Um, no. Not really."

"And your name?"

"I, uh... don't give out my name to strangers."

"Wise. But I need to call you something."

"Hmmm... I don’t really...”

He waited. 

She snapped her fingers. "My family nicknamed me Grace. The way they talk, I've been clumsy since the womb." She rolled her eyes.

"That sounds cruel."

She laughed, but it was short, clipped. "Nah. Annoying, maybe. But they didn't mean anything by it. Your family not have a nickname for you?"

He shook his head. "No. They called one of my brothers the star. He... shone a little too brightly."

She nodded. "I have a friend like that. Drama queen. Sucks up all the air in a room, as my mother would say."

"May I call you Grace?"

She laughed again, the full version this time, and said, "I ruined your pants, so I owe you. Yeah, sure. Go for it."

He walked her to her car, but they kept chatting - the coffee shop began as a speakeasy, he informed her, and a two-way mirror once hung over the bar so as to keep an eye out for the police. And the conversation drifted with them as they meandered down the street, ended up in a park, sitting in swings sandwiched between a slide and a sandbox, lazily letting their feet trail through gravel, him allowing her to think he was a history buff, her telling him how she'd been born in another nondescript town in another nondescript state. How as the years passed, it had started to feel like another world.

And when it was her turn to ask about the past, it called up from within him the desire to lie to her - protect her - for the second time that night. So he chose his words carefully.

"I had assignments. One that was the most... I was supposed to guard people. Defend them, when needed. And... and I did a good job for quite awhile. My commander was pleased. But then things... happened. I let an enemy invade. I wasn't strong enough. Not enough to stop him."

"You don't have to go into detail if you don't want to," Grace said quietly. She laid a hand over his.

"People died."

"Oh."

"They saw me as a protector. There was a time when some practically worshiped me, thought I was worthy of it." He made a scoffing sound. "I started to believe I was."

He'd never had a single regret, never let himself fall into the abyss of memories. But even he could be brought - broken, more accurately - out of his routine. And the most immediate period of his existence had done just that, making times of calm a desire, while in the same moment making times of silence an irritant.

He looked down at their hands, flipped his, threaded his fingers through hers, and she didn't stop him.

They sat, unmoved, no words, for several minutes; three-point-two-one-six, in fact, because he counted them. His mind never rested, even when the hunter's did, but he liked how she didn't feel the need to fill the emptiness with idle talk. Made for a touch of calm. Even with the silence.

It held a bit of irony - he was the silent type, everyone said so. He'd found it often communicated intent better than any words could've. And more descriptions piled on: Imposing. Intimidating. Towering. Threatening. Some had called him "Beast" long before it had been applied to their once-adored morning star.

So there it was - there’d already been a second lie, and he hadn't even noticed.

"I don't mean to frighten you," he told her, staring at her intently, but this time she didn't look away.

"You said that already," she replied, a solemn smile on her lips, not too wide, not too thin, just the right sort, and he hoped he reciprocated in kind. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, saying, "Michael... I mean, my Michael -----"

The hunter's belly stirred.

"----- you know, my brother, he's in the service. He's a Ranger. He doesn't tell our family a lot of stories from when he fought, but he's told me some. So if it's anything like that, then... I can understand. I can try, I mean."

"I led the entirety of our legion."

"You're... you seem a little young to be... what would it be, a general, I guess? Or do you mean you led your division? Or squadron? I know some of the terminology, you don't have to dumb it down for me."

"I've offended you."

"No, it's... don't worry about it, it doesn't matter."

"It very much matters. How people treat one another. People can be vile, sadistic, horrible creatures."

She raised her eyebrows. "I guess. But we're the only ones here. And I'm not horrible, and you're not horrible, soooo..."

"You're right," he lied for the third time, and with one of the hunter's brightest smiles.

Which made Grace shine.

Go.

The hunter did as he was commanded.

Michael thought she tasted like sin.

"Okay. Tomorrow. I'm off work, but we can meet at the coffee shop, figure out what to do from there... around noon sound good?"

He nodded. "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Grace."

She nodded in return, got in her car, and gave him a little wave as she pulled away.

Is this your plan, hunter? How you think you'll undo me? Making me more like you?

Hey, I haven't been driving for awhile now. Ass.

Hmmm.

You kissed her.

What makes you say that?

When you let me leave the bad boy corner, I could tell. Or else you're putting strawberry lip balm on my----

Apple.

Huh?

It's apple.

He waited at her apartment, this time deep in the shadows where he wouldn't be spotted, made sure she got inside safely, listened for the click that told him she'd locked the door. He began to leave, then thought better of it, decided to play guardian for old times' sake, placed warding here and there to keep any would-be harm away. And back to walking he went, considering how to kill the hours til they met again.

May as well strike up a conversation.

Now that we've spent some time together, tell me - Why didn't we do this sooner? What’s it been for you, about a decade?

You're a douche.

Fine. But comparatively?

There's not a douche scale, dick.

So I'm altogether irredeemable?

Uh - is there some universe where you aren't?

Perhaps.

So prove it! Let me go! And LEAVE ME ALONE.

Fair enough.

If he were to put a not-so-fine point on his reasoning for not meeting her the next day, that about summed it up. He'd disappoint her, she'd disappoint him, and if she didn't, that was no good. Probably worse. Better to keep unattached when it came to what the future... what he... would likely bring.

Even so, he found himself once more standing apart, likely imposing, always watching, this time through a window, across hallowed grounds, looking for his grace. He spotted her at the very table he'd been at when they met, scrolling through her phone, occasionally sipping on a latte. Then there'd be a sigh, a glance to the large clock on the opposite wall as five, then ten, then fifteen minutes passed by.

What say after this, we head to the cage, check on that counterpart of mine?

This time, he received an unusually placid response.

Why?

To ensure he's paying for what he's done.

Like you haven't been thinking of nuking this world. You're still jonesing for your apocalypse. You know you want a do-over.

The world could use some cleansing, true. There's reasons. But, no. That's not why.

Then what?! How many times are you planning on dragging me over there, making sure he hasn't popped the lock so you can keep up your stupid act? They’re gonna figure it out soon, Cas or Sam—-

I thought of all people, you'd understand.

Understand WHAT? It's payback? 'Cause the first thing *he* did was make a beeline to take you out?

He killed my brother. With my own sword, no less. And that above all, Dean, I will not abide.

Grace picked up her bag, left a few bills on the table, and as she walked out the door, placed a phone call.

"Yeah, he stood me up... no, no, I'm not... Seriously! I'm not mad, I'm just, you know... yeah. I thought he was different... No, you're right, and I'm sure he had a good reason, and I told you he didn't have a phone with him, right? So it's not like he could've.... oh God, no he wasn't lying, why do you assume every dude.... Anyway, maybe I'll see him again. I think that'd be nice..."

Well, then. Not so predictable, after all. Not this one. At least, for now.

Teaching the world a lesson could wait for just one more day.

.

Author’s Note #2: Here’s a walkthrough on the inspiration for the title/plot points, the theology droppings, and the “clues” for the ending twist-a-roo, if you’re interested!

Author’s Note #3: This was gonna be snarky & involve a continued barrage of insults on the infamous freeze-that-shall-not-be-named-frame, but the gif  turned out too lovely & I'd feel guilty using it for nefarious purposes.

See Nash Write : Master  /  See Nash Write : Mobile

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Secure For Sure ~ A Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

NEXT FIC IS BASED OFF A PROMPT BY @ticklish-little-user and an awesome imagey prompt submitted by @amazingmsme which you can find here LET US BEGINNN!

TAGGING: @anti-switch-glitch and @schneepleestien

Antisepticeye had a broad, broad grin plastered on his face. He was poised, ready for his next victim, weapon clenched in his fist as his ears picked up the footsteps getting closer. They were light steps, and were accompanied by the swishing sound, rather like a long coat. Anti smirked.....perfect. He was hidden round the corner of the hallway, nibbling his bottom lip as he heard the footsteps get closer. The footsteps, that belonged to Dr Schneeplestein. The doctor was very much in his own world as he wandered in the direction of his bedroom, his mind was very much muddled and clouded; the man was very much in need of a nap. He deserved it too. So he didn't really have his wits about him as he walked past the corner.....where Anti struck. Schneeple let out a squeal, whirling around with arms raised ready to hit out; but then he narrowed his eyes and grumbled as his eyes fell on a cackling Antisepticeye.

'You muzzafucker.....'

Schneeple trailed off with a sigh, using a hand to rub the side of his neck where a soft, fluttery feeling had made his nerves ignite. Anti was grinning as he twirled the offending tool between his fingers, and in my opinion it was pretty fantastic. It had the classic, grey hilt you'd expect of a knife, but instead of a blade.....a soft, white feather protruded. Anti tilted his head at the doctor, with a cheeky smirk in place; Anti was always more evil when he was playful.

'What's wrong doc? Did I catch ye off guard?'

The doctor felt his cheeks go a little pink when Anti snickered at him; Schneeple knew Anti only had the cheekiest, friendliest intentions, but Schneeple sadly....felt he couldn't keep up today. He exhibited an eye-roll as he replied.

'Yes you did, but unfortunately I am not in ze mood for ze unexpected. So if you'll excuse me.....'

Schneeple turned his back and resumed his journey to his room, but Anti, being the determined buggar that he is, simply followed. Schneeple pursed his lips as Anti's whines reached his ears, but he felt a little nervous shiver go down his spine when Anti spoke.

'Aww c'moooon, the tickle wasn't THAT bad was it?'

Schneeple kept walking, murmuring hurriedly as he finally stepped over the threshold to his room and shrugged his coat off. He was trying to ignore the feelings of awkwardness and sadness bubbling away within him. He was trying to dissuade Anti from staying, but it's clear that this was utterly in vain.

'It is not important.....'

Anti's demeanour had been shifting over the past few minutes. From teasy, to playful, to curious. And now there was concern starting to bubble away inside the glitch, for now he could see that all was not well with his doctor. Anti stored his tool away as he fiddled with his pockets and watched Schneeple sink down to sit at the end of his bed; Anti spoke, clearly.

'It is to you.'

Schneeple blinked a few times in surprise, and looked beside him when he felt Anti sit next to him. Schneeple was aghast to see how attentive Anti had become, his irises still and his forehead wrinkled in rapt and concentration and interest. Schneeple gulped a little.....he was still so unsure. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

'Vell......i-it has just been a long day, I know I vill be fine tomorr-'

'Henrik if ye lie to me about yer wellbeing one more time....ye will regret it.'

Schneeple jumped when he was cut off, and tensed when he saw the seriousness of Anti's demeanour as his eyes flicked to an intense black. Schneeple bowed his head, nibbling his bottom lip as he shut his eyes and let his mind race. There was a reason for all this. It wasn't a nice reason. And unfortunately, it's a reason that too many damn people suffer from in this world. For once in his life, Anti was patient. Watching Schneeple, watching how he was thinking, like he was thinking about what to say. Schneeple opened his eyes, bottom lip quivering a little as he spoke.

'I......d-did not vant you to make me laugh.'

Anti blinked a few times, for he was confused. Sincerely. He didn't speak though, because he knew Schneeple had more he needed to say. The truth was.....Schneeple hated his laugh, as Anti was about to find out. I feel like that sort of insecurity is just the worst. It means you just.....lose a lot of opportunity for joy. As the doctor spoke, Anti felt a pit in his stomach grow.

'I just.....hate how it sounds. So high pitched and scraping, it is.....ze vorst sound. My squeal before vos almost as bad, I am surprised you haf not vanted to tease already.....'

Anti was in genuine shock. Not once had it crossed his mind that ANY reactions of Schneeple's were bad or anything like the doctor was describing, and frankly Anti was enraged that the doctor felt that way about himself. Anti leant down so he could look at Schneeple properly, and he nudged the man's shoulder gently. Anti wasn't exactly sure what to say, he knew he wanted nothing more than to console the doctor; but he was going to have to wing it.

'Doc.....I'm gonna be honest, I'm really fuckin' confused. I've never wanted to tease ye about what yer laughin' or squealin' or what ANY of yer reactions are like! I mean, I might wanna embarrass ya.....but you don't sound horrible or nasty! If anythin', they're awesome! I mean, yer squeal earlier? That was gold! It was so loud....I'm kinda jealous.....'

Schneeple blinked a few times, letting out a little gasp as he listened to Anti. He couldn't look at him as of yet, he was just trying to process what he'd said. Schneeple knew that Anti would never put effort into lying about something like this....but could his words really be true? The doctor took a few small breaths, he had to be sure. These feeling don't just go away, but maybe.....if Anti was being true....then maybe Schneeple could start on the road to feeling better.

'You.....you really mean zis? You do not think zat....I sound....'

'Fuck no.'

Schneeple was rendered silent. Not just by the interruption itself, but because of how harsh and blunt it sounded. He looked to Anti, slightly fearfully, particularly since Anti's face was slack and his voice was cold. However.....the doctor could see warmth in his eyes; all of this, was coming from the best damn place.

'You sound.....brilliant. That's a fact fer me. And uh, if anyone were to be sayin' otherwise.....just let me know. I'll have a stab at changing their minds....'

Schneeple let out a soft sigh when Anti giggled, and the doctor couldn't help but smile. I think, when you can't stop a smile from rising up, that's a good thing. He'd also let out a little, huffed laugh through his nose; which Anti of course picked up on and smiled at whilst the doctor replied.

'Yohou are alvays so kind.'

Anti grinned at the doctor's subtle sarcasm, and at the soft sound of mirth. However, that grin soon started to morph into a mischievous smirk which did not go unnoticed by Schneeple. The doctor paled when Anti leant towards him, whispering.

'I think we can do better than that, don't you doctor?'

Schneeple's eyes widened as he realised what Anti meant.....he was naïve to think Anti would let him out of this without.....oh no. The doctor moved like startled cat, shuffling onto the bed to get away from Anti as his smile widened; it bore both nervousness, and playfulness.

'Anti don't you dare!'

Anti let out a loud cackle as he got on his hands and knees, teeth gleaming as his smirk shone out like that of a predator craving its prey. He tensed his body and cocked his head to the side, relishing in the fear and excitement dancing in the doctor's eyes.

'Oh my good doctor.....it's just too late!'

Schneeple's eyes widened as a shriek flew from his throat, since Anti had just flown at him. The doctor fought back and gripped Anti's forearms as the glitch growled and tried to knock him off balance, all the while he teased.

'Oooh feisty! You're cute when you're tryna fight back....'

Schneeple's cheeks went pink as he narrowed his eyes, embarrassedly trying to retort as he got up on his knees to try and get more leverage.

'Sh-shut ze fuck u-AH!'

Midway through his retort, Anti had managed to cut the poor doctor off and knock him onto his back due to a well aimed knee to his hip. Despite struggles, Anti had the doctor's wrists pinned above his head with a single hand in no time; Schneeple squirmed with wide eyes as he looked up at his captor.....who was grinning excitedly.

'Gotcha! Awww yer eyes are so wide.....you're not scared of little old me are ye?'

Schneeple nibbled his bottom lip as a chill went down his spine....but he defiantly shook his head as his words tumbled out.

'I-I vould n-never be scared of you!'

Anti raised an amused eyebrow at Schneeple's words, then he let out a musing hum as his free hand drew back to his waist; where something was sheathed.

'What a brave, brave doctor ye are......well if yer not scared of ME then there's no way you'd be scared of this, right?'

At 'this', Anti had moved his hand with a flourish.....and Schneeple's eyes widened when his gaze landed on a now familiar tool.

'N-No.....'

Anti chuckled at Schneeple's whimper, and he played with the hilted feather teasingly; his voice dimmed into a purr.

'Of coooourse not, why would you be scared of something so delicate? Something so soft and fluttering couldn't possibly send chills down your spine, or make you shiver at the mere thought of it.....that would just be preposterous.....'

The doctor was squirming as his lips threatened to curve into a smile, Anti's teasing giving him chills as well as warm butterflies in his tummy; Schneeple had never felt more flustered, and it spurred him to murmur.

'.....y-you're an e-evil bastard.....'

Anti froze. Schneeple froze. Anti smirked. He leant in so he was nose to nose with the doctor, and he purred....before getting to work.

'Damn right I am!'

Schneeple let out a squeal, and within seconds was tossing his head from side to side as soft fibres flicked over the shells of his ears; his high-pitched, jumping giggles made Anti smirk.

'Nahahaha! Nahahat my ehehears!!'

Anti snickered as he lazily traced Schneeple's ears, finding every little ticklish crevice he could as he cooed unsympathetically.

'Does this tickle already? Awww, what adorable giggles you've got doc! Real bubbly and cuuute!'

Schneeple's cheeks blazed red as he did everything possible to avoid looking at Anti, the embarrassment he felt was off the scale. The doctor felt like his nerves were being teased relentlessly, and Anti's words just broke him down even more. In a good way though.

'D-Dohohon't tahalk abohohout zehem lihihike zahat! Yohohou m-mehehean tehehease!'

Anti threw his head back as he cackled, Schneeple's utter embarrassment was just delicious. He decided to let the feather stroke down the sides of Schneeple's neck, which made the man's giggles more hearty. Anti took note of the doctor's grin, it was wide and the tip of his tongue was sticking out through his teeth.....it was sickeningly happy. Anti knew he was doing well.

'Ohohooohh, does it embarrass ye? Does it make ye feel all warm and blushy when I talk about how precious ye sound? Well you'll have to deal with it.....because I don't plan on stopping.'

Schneeple scrunched his shoulders as he squeaked and giggled, it was already so unbearable and he wasn't even close to hysteria. He gazed pleadingly up at Anti as he shook his head with a desperate smile; or rather, a desperately happy smile.

'Plehehehease! Ihi cahannot tahake zehe fluhuhustering!'

Anti had to fight back an extremely fond expression as he smiled down at the doctor, so he sneered and withdrew the feather briefly with a lasting flick under Schneeple's chin.

'I noticed.....the teasing really affects you doesn't it? Yer cheeks are burning!'

Schneeple turned his head away from Anti as he tried to keep quiet, though Anti merely chuckled as the man beneath him giggled residually.....but Anti wanted more.

'Mmm....now that WAS lovely an' all, I mean those giggles of yours are just precious! But unfortunately for ye, I'm not quite satisfied.'

The doctor gulped, glancing to Anti who had decided to hold his devilish tool in his mouth as he seemed to survey Schneeple; the doctor's torso was covered by a t-shirt AND jumper. Hm. After a few moments, Anti chuckled. Schneeple gasped when Anti's grip on his wrists tightened, and he stammered.

'Vh-vhat doho you m-mean vhat are yo-NO! ANTI NO D-DON'T!'

The doctor exclaimed when Anti gripped the edges of his jumper and t-shirt and roughly shucked them so Schneeple's entire upper body was exposed. The doctor squirmed and shivered, feeling more vulnerable than ever. Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, Anti bunched clothing over his face. His eyes. He wouldn't be able to see what Anti had planned for him. Said man grinned, then leant to chuckle in Schneeple's ear.

'There.....nothing to defend you now.'

Schneeple jumped at the proximity, and then nibbled his bottom lip as the room descended into silence; the anticipation was just.....torture. Anti was just relaxing, deciding to partially lie next to Schneeple; he made sure that their knees were touching. Anti just wanted to make sure that the doctor knew he was there, and that he was safe; the lack of sight made that a requirement. Deep down....the doctor felt entirely safe, but he shuddered when Anti purred.

'I'm gonna enjoy making ye laugh and beg and squeal and whimper....there's just something about tickling ye doc. Now I've started.....I can't stop.'

Schneeple squealed when he felt something soft drag from the dip of one of his sides, up his side and ribs and into his underarm before dragging itself back down again. The process was evilly repetitive and put the doctor into hysterical giggles, and the occasional cackle. Anti was probing for spots.

'Nohohoho nohoho plEHEase! Zihihis ihis u-uhunbehearable!'

From Schneeple's point of view, this statement WASN'T an exaggeration. The uncertainty of what sensation would go where, which nerves were going to be treated next, what Anti's plan was. It was all a torturous, tormenting mystery for the good doctor. For Anti though, it was quite the show. He tested Schneeple's sides, ribs, quivering tummy, soft underarms; it was ever so much fun to make the man squirm and yelp and jump. Anti sneered.

'It's just one little feather Henrik, it's only having a little fluttery wander.....I'm suuure you can cope with that....'

Well. It wasn't like Schneeple had a choice. Anti spent a good long while with his ticklish friend, because he was determined to extract every single reaction he possibly could. He was slow under Schneeple's arms, making him arch his back and shiver helplessly. Then he progressed to the man's ribs, running the length of the feather in between the bones; that was particularly effective on the doctor.

'AHANTIHI! NOHO MOHORE OHOF ZIHIHIS!'

He was just consumed by cackles, they were loud and breathy and Anti loved them.....because they were so wonderfully desperate. He kept sawing the feather absently, and had placed his head right next to Schneeple's, so his whispers and purrs and coos could be heard loud and clear.

'But this is so much fun! You're so wriggly, and you have so many ticklish spots....I could keep you like this for hours-'

'NOHOHOHO OHO GAHAD YOHOU VOHOHOULDN'T!!'

Schneeple's hidden face bore wide eyes and crimson cheeks as Anti's words made him shudder.....the mere thought of being tickled for that long.....goodness. Anti snickered as he reached the doctor's bottommost ribs, and he let the feather play as he spoke.

'Oh.....but I could. I could do anything, and you wouldn't even be able to guess what I had in store.'

Schneeple writhed about, cackling and snorting quite wildly as Anti's words reverberated in his mind. He took a few deep breaths as he felt the tool move away from his ribs, he bore a breathless grin as he stammered.

'P-Plehease.....ihit's t-too.....t-tickly....I-I-AHNOVAITNOTZHERE!!!'

Both Anti and Schneeple nearly jumped out of their skins at the doctor's raucous exclamation; and flicked his eyes to the feather, and smirked curiously when he saw the feather's tip brushing the doctor's waistline.

'What's this? Someone got a ticklish, delicate exposed waist for my feathery friend to play with?'

Anti smirked wider when Schneeple hurriedly shook his head, whimpering and begging in earnest as his words spewed like rapids.

'N-No A-Antihi please I-I am too t-ticklish zhere! I vill h-haf a heart attack! I-It ihis too bad zhere please I-I'll do anything!'

Anti.....was in shock. He'd NEVER heard such begging from the doctor before, in any scenario! He was silent for a few moments, letting the atmosphere writhe and bubble like the nerves throughout Schneeple's system. The doctor gulped and waited, all the while he was hoping for mercy. Although, Schneeple had to admit.....the feeling of that feather making him laugh was really damn good. He was soon taken from his thoughts when he felt his friend whisper.

'Anything? You'd really do.....anything?'

The doctor merely whimpered and nodded, and Anti simply grinned at Schneeple as he reared up. He tossed the feather aside as he growled.

'Then laugh like yer life depends on it!'

Schneeple's eyes widened when he felt a weight on him, then he was screeching. Screeching and thrashing as Anti's bristles rubbed against his waist and raspberry upon raspberry rippled across the diabolically sensitive skin.

'AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA AHAHAHANTIHIHIHIHIIIIII!!! MEHEHEHERCY!!!'

Anti merely growled into the soft skin, giggling as he relished in the desperate screams and high-pitched bouts of laughter he coaxed from his friend. He'd technically granted half mercy though since he'd elected to release the doctor's wrists; Anti chuckled when he felt batting at his back.

'Never! If ye want it you'll have te fight fer it!'

Schneeple was bucking and writhing as he frantically tried to push at Anti's shoulders, but he was rather weak in the midst of his buckling hysteria. He cried out with a mad smile.

'NEHEHEHEHEHEHEIN!!! BIHIHIHIHITTEHEHEHE!!!'

Anti let out a cackle as he heard the doctor revert to his German language, and as he felt the attacks from his victim start to weaken, he decided that Schneeple had had enough.

'Alright, alright breeeathe, I'm not qualified to restart hearts I only know how to....stop 'em.'

The doctor was still in a daze, and had only just managed to force his clothing away from his face; he blinked a few times to get used to the light again. Then Schneeple looked to Anti.....and smiled.

'You.....mahay not know how toho restart ze heart, buhut you know how to strengthen it.....'

Before Anti could react, Schneeple had shuffled and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Anti felt his bottom lip tremble when he felt the doctor nestle into him, and he soon wrapped his arms round him in return. Just as tightly, But a lot more protectively. Feeling Schneeplestein's warmth and joy and trust.....made him feel warm, and joyful, and contently trusting.

WELL HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT. WOOP. LUV YOUS XXX