#there was also one in green black red and yellow plus white which reminded me of the African American flag.

[unintentional-pride]

Unintentionally lesbian, gay, and bear yarns at Walmart today!

[bonefall]

i am definitely one of those people who gives their cats warrior names so here r my parents' two young cats:

"Cloudbound"-> Haipipip "fat cloud bouncing." He is a big floofy ragdoll himbo and he reminds me of a cotton swab.

"Flywhisker" -> Ffawshusspap "keen fruit fly." There's not yet words in the lexicon for her name I think, so I used "bee sensing with carpal whiskers" as a placeholder which is kind of what I want to get at but she's really more of a fruit fly yk? And I couldn't find a personality adjective for an observant cat or a proficient hunter, which I think could be a good addition regardless. Anyways she is a very skittish and twitchy little black and white spotted cat and i am her favorite person because i walk quietly.

Don't feel obligated to answer this ask, i just wanted to share :]

FLIES

Fruit flies are actually quite rare, and mostly only seen in ThunderClan because of their notorious love of including fruit in their recipes. This climate is very cold, and fruit flies are most common around human settlements where there's a year-round supply of fruit (pre-infested!) coming in from supermarkets.

So I'll add fruit flies when I get around to a legitimate entry on flies as a whole, but for now, there's a whole bunch of teeny flies that could be very fitting here.

Let's start with the broad "categories" of "Fly" that Clan Cats have plus some related words;

Fly (Generic) = Usprr Any insect that primarily flies to travel, but is not a butterfly, dragonfly, or midge. Bees are a type of Fly in Clanmew. (Midges include craneflies, robberflies, and mosquitoes)

Waste = Bloh Translates directly. A waste. Something that can't be used.

Gall = Oorp Swollen bumps and shapes that rise off plants to house certain types of insects, very popular with certain types of flies, but also used by some mites.

To Harmlessly Pretend/To Pretend To Be Busy = Aweerron/Aweerro/Aweerr This is a REALLY hard verb to translate into English. Translated directly, it means "doing the act of being dandelion-yellow." Translated roughly, it means to don the color yellow so you're left alone by something with a greater threat-level. It can mean 'compliance,' or it can mean to 'mind your own business,' or it can even mean 'looking busy.' A verb that describes several animals, but especially types of flies, of which bees are a type. Their yellow coloration acts as a deterrent to bigger animals who want to avoid being stung. If you've ever been at work and just done something pointless when the boss rolls around, so you don't get assigned more work, you were doing this.

Maggot (of any fly) = Ulae The most general term for baby flies of all types. Also used for bee larvae. NOT derogatory in Clanmew.

Maggot (of green bottlefly) = Huli The medicinal maggot, a VERY important species for use in treating SEVERE wounds.

SPECIFIC CATEGORIES OF FLIES

Hover Fly = Hafrr Little flies capable of a true hover, coming in various odd shapes, but most are dandelion-yellow. Just like butterflies, a fly that is capable of performing this difficult flight pattern is highly respected, but in a cutesy, diminutive way. Hover flies are primarily pollinators, seen around flowers. Being likened to a hoverfly is like being called "spunky."

Building Fly = Kyybr Most bees, wasps, hornets, certain gall flies. Flies that build another structure. Ants temporarily become these at certain times of the year, according to the Clan cat interpretation of an ant's nuptial flight. There are a TON of other subtypes under this, wasps, solitary bees, swarming bees, etc, which I'll get into some other time.

Bristle Fly = Bfurr Probably what you imagine when you hear "fly." Round, bristly, buzzy things, which are often attracted to rotting things and waste. A little fruit fly is a type of bfurr, but so are bottleflies and the golden dung fly. Some flies which are not drawn to decaying matter, such as the Red Parasite Fly, get lumped in here too.

Lace Fly = Honrr Clear-winged, slender insects. Includes scorpionflies, some sawflies, actual lacewings, and the bay sucker.

And lastly, a couple of interesting species.

Scorpionfly (Panorpa Communis) = Yykrn The web-pilferer. Named for its habit of snatching the prey of spiders right out of their webs!

Cleg (Haematopota pluvialis) = Grawr The MOST annoying fly in the entire Clans, absolutely detested. A nasty creature whose bite contains an anticoagulant, causing it to bleed profusely. Common in WindClan and near the edges of conifer forests (such as the plantation near ShadowClan). Considered a lot worse than mosquitoes, which are just itchy.

Marmalade Hover Fly (Episyrphus balteatus) = Fsi Yes. Marmalade can be a valid warrior cat prefix if you'd like <3 The most common hoverfly, traveling in swarms and looking almost exactly like a bee. Their maggots kill aphids and the adults pollinate flowers, causing them to be looked at especially fondly in ThunderClan.

Green Bottlefly (Lucilia sericata) = Holibf The species that is attracted by Clerics so its maggots can be used in medicine. A fly species you're definitely already familiar with, for its shiny, green abdomen.

[ciaossu-imagines]

So, while I got a couple of fun surprise box and match-ups on the personalization day of the event, nobody requested from the prompts! However, I really did want to make use of all the prompts, so I did both up for some tumblr uses I feel relatively friendly and close with, so you'll find those among the unrequested prompt posts, including this one! I hope at least the person it's for will enjoy it, and if these kind of things bore you as a reader, I apologize and hope you'll enjoy tomorrow's post!

Personalization Prompt #2 – C

BLACK: what face claim from an anime, comic book or cartoon do I associate with you?

If I had to pick, I guess the one my mind first comes up strongly with is Mirai Kuriyama from Beyond the Boundary? I don’t know, the colouring feels right plus she looks cute and young, and I just imagine you very youthful and adorable.

WHITE: what flame type and box weapon do I think you’d have in the khr!verse?

I do very much see you as a Mist Flame, which means, of course, that like most Mist Flame users in KHR, I do see you as an illusionist! I like picturing you use your creativity to really bring about these illusions, hiding lies within truth, truth within lies to really protect your ‘family’, those characters, and people you love. It’s funny, because outside of fighting, you’re a straight shooter and your creativity is shown in other ways, but that’s the flame and fighting style I picture for you within KHR! I also think your box weapon would a Mist blue jay…for those unfamiliar, it’s a type of bird. I’m going with the positive meanings of the bird as a spirit animal, when I chose it for you, which are intuition, strength of character, loyalty, and the ability to adapt and be resourceful in difficult situations.

RED: what aesthetics do I associate with you?

Blank word documents quickly filling up with text. Bright, sunlit warm days in lush green parks. Hoodies, nice, warm, and fluffy on the inside. The fae. Cracking a book open for the first time, the new book smell and unblemished pages. Happy smiles that crinkle the eyes and hint at laughter. Chocolate.

BLUE: what are three songs I’d put on a playlist for you?

I actually stick pretty strongly for the three I did over here for you already 😊

YELLOW: what fictional world out of all my fandoms would I picture you in?

I can pretty easily picture you in any of my fandoms because we do know each other pretty well. I picture you most often in K Project, obviously, because that’s the fandom that brought you to this blog, but also in KHR and Servamp!

GREEN: who would I pair you with out of all my fandoms?

Oh, I kind of answered this elsewhere for you, haha, but I stick with all those answers 😊

PURPLE: what gif reminds me of you?

PINK: if you were an AU, what type of AU would you be?

Ohhh, definitely a soulmate type of AU, just because romance is something you write a lot of, it’s a lot of what we talk about when we talk about our OC’s and such. So the AU has to have romantic overtones…I think the soulmate AU would probably be one of those ‘you’re cursed in some sense until you meet your soulmate. Once you do, your soulmate breaks your curse and gives you your ‘happy ever after’.

RAINBOW: if i were to write a khr sequel, following Tsuna’s demise, and could only use my reader’s as characters, who would you be?

Definitely see you as part of the Vongola, that’s for sure. While I don’t know if you’d be a Guardian, I definitely see you being a part of the inner circle, not only taking care of the individual family members but probably using your Mist Flames to cloak and protect the family’s stronghold.

[ghoulodont]

when i was trying to decide what my summoning reagents would be this diagram is what finally convinced me to use sulfur/mercury/salt.

specifically, this relationship of a group of 4 elements and a group of 3 elements really reminds me of the opponent process theory of color perception, which has 4 hues (plus black & white) represented by 3 photoreceptor signals.

one of the key concepts is that the photoreceptor signals (i.e. long/medium/short wavelengths or red/green/blue) are interpreted as a ratio. analogously, we could decide that different ratios of sulfur/mercury/salt make different kinds of ghouls. quintessence ghouls could be "neutral" like gray when the 3 amounts are equal.

another way to think about it is that the 3 photoreceptors create 2 hue dimensions (red-green and yellow-blue) and 1 brightness dimension (black-white). classical elements also have 2 dimensions, hot-cold and wet-dry.

but then again it doesnt make much sense at all, because what are we going to do with this third dimension? we really only needed 2. what does a ghouls brightness mean? its chromaticity? im not sure

[sunshinetoshi]

Which flower/plant do you associate your moots with?

okay this idea is so cute omg ty. honestly i don’t know much about flowers/plants besides saying ‘pretty!!’ every time i see one HAHA so i had to look up a bunch so now i’m very soft. ANOTHER WAY OF SAYING THESE MIGHT BE RANDOM BUT I STILL PUT THOUGHT INTO THEM AND IT MADE ME SOFT. i tried to include as many moots as possible (but there are still moots i missed bc i’m shy and we don’t interact as much or i feel like a bother asdajkf sorry lovelies ahh). 

this is me dropping the prettiest bouquets to you all each with a lil kith heheh. ily all 💐💐😙😙

@daichis-kitty - sunflowers (you’re my sunshine bubba heheh plus i know you love ‘em so automatic association). these make me so happy just like you dooooo. personally sunflowers are just so iconic and so are youuu

@tetsunormous - string-of-pearls. okay i LOVE these sm they might be my fave succulent. they make me giggle bc they look like green peas BAHAHA but i also think they’re soo pretty and they make me so happy. that giddiness i feel for them is similar to how i feel for you bestie oooo. okay but also lavender bc purple hearts for you forever

@luvbub - dandelions but before they’re fuzz-on-a-sticks (yellow fits the happy you make me plus the crafty flower crowns and you’re crafty aksdjfh). but even when they're fuzz you make me laugh and smile just like the fuzzies lol

@daichidaichidaichi - black velvet petunia. babe if you haven’t seen these look them up i am in love. petunias themselves and even the name are cute like you but the black captures your theme and i am obsessed.

@gg9183 - willow tree. very romantic vibes which i’ve always gotten from you bb. like imagine a date on a little lake in a row boat. ugh my heart. yeah those are the vibes. these are just so so pretty to me idk. for me your personality embodies an unmatched aesthetic. that doesnt even make sense but i hope it does pLS

@love-oikawa - feather grass but when lavenders grow between them?? very specific HAHA but i looove the look it makes me want to run through a meadow where your fingertips are brushing them and your giggling. idk something very cinematic and then add your s/o. yup. those are my hannah vibes.

@osamus-wife - pothos plant. okay these are the ones i see on ig/pinterest and they’re so aesthetic and i associate them with a person who has their stuff together (is a hard worker) and a person who has style and taste (like your taste in rb’s asdjf immaculate) and i see these things with youuu <33

@sunalma - wisteria. in the lakes by taylor swift there’s a line with wisterias and that whole song is the aura i get when i read your work. like the words just blow me away and i feel so lifted when i read it?? just beautiful bb. and your soul is beautiful too!! also purple for your theme heheh. also pretty flowers for pretty you angel

@xomiya - yerba mate bc i drink guayaki yerba mate when i need to stay up and given your body clock -> yerba mate <33 HAHA but you’re also so florally in my heart and head so also sweet peas my sweet pea soul sis

@catwithangerissues - bonsai tree. i know it’s random but i think it fits pLS. okay one reason is bc i think you’re fun (and slightly chaotic and i love it) and that’s the joy i get when i see those fisherman figurines in a bonsai tree planter thing (is this just me?? ahh) i also think you’re really cool and to me bonsais are so cool. like in general but also how old they can get it’s so cool what!! also your theme is green so my mind went green

@targaryens-blog - bat flower. these are strong and pretty looking flowers that i admire and those are things i think about you and your blog bb. the vibes of these are just amazing woahh. but your sweetness also gives me daisy vibes bc daisies make me so warm and happy so you get two flowers aksdjf

@cubbluv - spruce tree. are these christmas trees?? yes. but the warm fuzzy happy of christmas is like the feeling i have with you. and i will always associate green with you from your theme when we first became moots heheh. also?? i can’t remember but didn’t you saw you liked to pick up pine cones?? if not picking pine cones is cute so i still think it fits aksjdf ily melody heheh

@amjustagirl - southern magnolia tree. i’ve seen one of these trees a while back and they are just so memorable. they just have a unique feeling where you want to sit under the shade of them forever and take in the breeze. and that’s how i feel with your work <33

@kodzkn - marigolds. the slightly orange-y ones. they remind me of your theme and pfp heheh. also whenever i see these irl i go “marigolds!!” which is the energy i have when i see your user on my dash or notifs aksjdf

@notcurrentlyactive - chamomile. okay this one i can't explain but i love how cute the flowers are and i love the tea and you are just so kind and warm they radiate the same energy?? heheh <33

@iwaizumini - ranunculus/buttercup flowers. they’re just so bright and come in so many colors and are pretty just like you!! i love these sm and they make me so happy when i see them so i think they’re a great fit for you. heheh love you bb <33

@shoyotime - wishbone flower. bestie i’ll be honest. i looked up ‘clown flower’ out of curiosity AND THESE POPPED UP. but they’re so cute like you and the purple matches your theme so it actually works out BAHAHA. no but fr you make me so so happy and ilysm so also hydrangeas bc i think these are unmatched pretty flowers. there’s just something about them.

@tsukkisfatsimp - jade plant. okay hear me out bb. this explanation has ~layers~ okay first i love succulents and i love you. simple but effective (especially when i mean it with my whole chest). second the reddish tint on the ends reminds me of your red tsukki theme from back then. and third these grow HECKA fast just like you are on here and it makes me so happy and proud bb heheh

@hvnlydmn - calla lillies. okay i cant pick between the white ones or the black ones but for me they exude hot girl energy bb. either these are red roses. same reason HAHA

@u-make-my-heart-tsumtsum - camellias. pretty and pink and now match your theme heheh. BUT if i’m being honest it’s bc they appear in naruto a lot and when we became moots was when you first deep dived into naruto so that association will probs stay bb akjsdf

@floralkawa - baby’s breath. i think these are my favorite flowers. but just like you they give off the sweetest and softest vibes and they make me smile whenever i see them <33

@lovelytarou - canterbury bells. the blue-ish ones remind me of your theme HAHA. i’ve already told you how much i love your blog but you are also so sweet and funny (pls your tags give me life) and these flowers amuse me and make me smile bc they’re bell-shaped so i’m matching them to you. askdjf okay slightly a reach but bb look how pretty they are!!

@izhyperfixates - hollyhocks. they are just so soft and bright and lovely like you and your blog!! and i can totally see you and kita growing them in the garden you two have oooo

@marshieee - delphiniums. the blue of your theme is just so iconic i love it sm. also these are just so pretty!!

@pixelwisp - forget-me-nots. i know your theme is no longer blue but i still think of blue when i see you on the dash asjdf. also these have the cutest name and i think your user is so cute heheh

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: haha I did a semi short chapter... sorry... also this is chapter 4 of my space AU..

ALSO READ THE DAMN WARNINGS. Thank you ☺️

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warning: Mentions of abuse (physical verbal and sexual) there aren’t any graphic recalls it is simply mentions. Mentions of being beaten up. Mentions of knives and blood. Threatening characters, and character pain. Again characters being trapped and not going home. Cussing. Characters passing out. Characters being distressed characters being malnourished. Yea I kinda was in an angsty mode sooo.... here you go..

——————

Ao3 link:

——————

“Humans are [Add text here]”

Chapter 4: I guess it qualifies as an introduction?

Phil wasn’t expecting to wake up at 4 in the morning to the sound of laughter.

It wouldn’t be the first time, definitely not the last.

Curiously the avian poked his head into his kids’ room. The laughter wasn’t coming from the gardener, guard, or scientist. The laughter was coming from the assistant who wasn’t in their room. Phil turned his attention down the hall. Sure enough the laughter was louder. Quietly he made his way to the holding cell. Phil sat in a smaller hallway and decided to listen into the conversation… What can he say? He always eavesdropped..

“What even is a you-tube?” The assistant asked through small giggles. To that the human gasped as if he was hurt by the statement.

“You don’t have YouTube?! Or like an alien version of it?!” The human replied, not even trying to hide his shock.

“Erm no?”

“Well it’s like this thing that humans use to make really cool videos and stuff.”

“What’s a video?” Ranboo interrupted.

“They’re kinda like moving photos that usually work as a sort of entertainment or info dump. I could probably tell you thousands of the times my stupid teacher made me watch ‘educational’ videos..”

“So they’re kinda like illusions?”

“Yea but you don’t see 'em in 3D. As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted..” The enderian let out a small squeak of embarrassment at that, “YouTube is like a thing people use to post videos on. I am totally making an alien version of YouTube when I get out.” The air stiffened at that.

“Tommy.. you probably won’t get out for a while…” Ranboo said, Phil heard one of them shift and the entire atmosphere lost it’s warmth, “It’s not like you won’t get out! It’s just hard… especially when no one really trusts you yet.” Ranboo swallowed, as he usually does when he is uncomfortable, “Even when we let you out of the holding cell.. you probably won’t be allowed off the ship. It’s too dangerous for all of us..” the two fell into a deafening silence. Phil shivered at the tension, making sure to be silent while doing so.

“I assumed as much…” the human started, being the first to break the silence, “I-I… I guess I won’t be going home either… since the ISF absolutely hates us.. plus like you said, only already crazy humans are sent back..” the human sighed sadly.. For the first time Phil felt sympathetic towards a human. With that he decided it was time to start on breakfast.

——————

Three things happened after Tubbo woke up.

One, Ranboo passed out at the table. Phil simply shook his head and picked up the enderian with some unknown strength to the rest of the crew.

Two, a scream was heard from the other side of the ship, causing Wilbur to frantically run to the holding cell.

Three, Techno put his milk in before he poured his tea… I mean who does that?

Ignoring the last strange thing, Tubbo went to check on Ranboo. He was fine, so Phil said. “He only needs rest. Leave them be.” Was what Tubbo got as he peered into the enderian’s room. Shrugging off the weird behavior Tubbo made his way to the garden.

Before he made his way to the garden he noticed the human wasn’t in the holding cell. That meant he was probably in the lab… Which meant Tubbo would have to meet him.. Oh prime no. That’s not gonna happen.

He started sprinting to the garden. It was just passed the lab if only he took another step-

“Tubbo, I need your help.” Wilbur said from behind him. The droneling turned around reluctantly. Holding his breath he made his way into the medical part of the lab.

[gore and distressed characters, skim if you need to]

There, laying on the bed, was a human. He held back a scream which came out as a labored gasp. Sweat was bubbling on his forehead. With that he turned to Wilbur who examined the human from a distance.

“Go get some bandages and the stitching kit.” Wilbur commanded. Without hesitation Tubbo ran to grab the items. Wilbur took both objects and disinfected a bad cut on the human’s arm. He hadn’t even realized there was a cut until Wilbur cleared off the strange red blood. Wilbur then proceeds to stitch the wound and bandage the irritated wound.

That’s when Tubbo noticed the amount of blood the human lost. Most species wouldn’t be able to handle that much blood loss, but here was the beast of the galaxy, completely fine in a matter of minutes after losing quite a bit of blood.

[End]

When Wilbur was satisfied, he picked the human up and carried him back to the holding cell. Tubbo was unable to stop himself from following. Before thinking the droneling sat at the table and watched as Wilbur finished cleaning the human.

“Er.. do you want me to grab Techno so you can stay in here?” Wilbur asked, noticing Tubbo sitting in the corner.

Without saying a word Tubbo gave a small nod. Wil didn’t push like he usually did and left to get Techno.

Tubbo got up and approached the sleeping human. He was skinnier than what Tubbo thought humans should be. There were odd dark circles under his eyes and his hair clearly hadn’t had a good wash for what looked like months. He had injuries over his body and was practically shaking in his sleep.

Since Tubbo was preoccupied, he barely noticed Techno enter, or the door closing. Let alone the clangs and thuds from other crew mates.

He was preoccupied by the strange human who was sleeping in front of him.

The human stirred and the droneling stumbled away.

After a few seconds the human sat up and looked at the now fallen droneling.

“What the fuck?”

——————

Tommy didn’t expect another alien to push their luck in his space. But here he was.

The alien was smaller than Tommy by a lot. Further proving Tommy was the biggest man. Unlike the other aliens this one wasn’t threatening upon first glance.

The one from last night had been way more intimidating at first. Being way taller than Tommy and having weird lanky limbs and magical purple glowing orbs surrounding them. They had horns and a half and half complexion. One half of the alien being white with grey and purple freckles along with a red eye. The other half being a purplish black with grey and green freckles along with a green eye. They wore a suit with a red tie and dress shoes. He also had two tails of the same colors as his complexion. All of this being forgotten after they stammered through their introduction. It was honestly hilarious.

This alien was very different from the others. They had brown messy hair, encasing black antennas and small black bumps that resembled horns. Their skin was a honey peach color and practically glistened. There were strange hexagon patterns over their face along with three black stripes on either side of their face. They had bee wings, which was the only thing Tommy could relate to the alien too. There was also a black fuzzy tail, similar to a stinger, poking out of their pants. Their hands were lanky and pointed, completely black. There was also soft yellow fuzz poking out of their sleeves and holes in their pants. They wore ripped jeans along with a long sleeved green button down shirt. Their eyes were another thing entirely, being a honey brown in certain light but could also shift to a greenish blue in other light. They had fly-like pupils.

After a minute of them sitting in an awkward stance the alien got up. Using their wings to properly position them in a standing position. They brushed themselves off and approached Tommy.

“You lay a finger on anyone here and I will kill you. Understand?” The alien said, any intimidation that was lost from the alien falling was regained in an instant. The alien poked him in the chest with one of the lanky fingers, which started burning like acid after a minute.

Since Tommy was too, sacred, poggers to move he simply nodded, which is absolutely the best response to the situation. Sadly the alien didn’t get the gesture and dug their nail into his chest even more. Seriously, it was starting to really burn.

“Y-yes.” Was all Tommy could muster. The alien was satisfied with the answer and let go of Tommy. They walked out of the now open door. Shortly after Techno followed the door closing behind him. Tommy never realized the other alien was in the room.

[Mentions of abuse]

For a split second the interaction reminded him of his dad.

The way his dad did the same thing to his mom when she didn’t listen.

Or when his sister didn’t follow his dad’s friend.

Or when Tommy made a mistake.

Except instead of a nail, it was glass, or a punch, or sometimes a knife…

[End]

He shook off the thoughts and reminded himself that the aliens weren’t his father, nor were they going to do that to him.

They wouldn’t do that right?.. Right?

Tommy slapped his face, only to find there were silent tears flowing down his cheeks. He quickly wiped his cheeks and continued his train of thought.

Tommy trusted too easily. That in the end is how at nine he ended up getting beat up in his first foster home. He condemned himself for trusting the aliens. They were strangers. He knew nothing of them and they knew more about him. This was the moment in which Tommy shut himself off. Where he regained the ability to leave his blind trusting instincts.

——————

Chapter 4- End

Words: 1633

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Notes: I didn’t know what to add next so I decided to leave you here. Your welcome! <3

Again hope you enjoyed! Now go eat food, drink water, take a shower if you haven’t, and go to sleep. Stay safe, love ya! <3

——————

Tubbo: *falls out of fear

Tommy: ._. This dude ain’t intimidating

Tubbo: *threatens Tommy

Tommy: ,:^ never mind then...

——————

Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are better!!

——————

[spaceiez]

Chapters: 2/?

Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines Characters: Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher, Mabel Pines Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Older Dipper Pines, Older Mabel Pines, Human Bill Cipher, Alcohol, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change Summary:

Sophomore year of college and Dipper is ready for new adventures! But, when there is an unexpected dorm room change, Dipper must face a new challenge, a (crazy?) roommate named Bill Cipher.

Chapter One:  Illnnzgv Xszmtv

Dipper felt his lips curve into a smile as he set one of his suitcases into the bright blue college moving cart. He stood back up and slid out a plastic bin, filled with bedsheets, blankets, a mattress pad, and his pillow, out of the car trunk. He plopped it into the moving cart with his black suitcase. The young man glanced up, smiling wider as he took in the large campus around him. Dipper could feel both the excitement of being back at college and the anticipation of starting a new year with new classes rising in his chest.

His pine tree trucker cap was suddenly shoved down in front of his line of sight, which jolted him from his thoughts, “Hey!” He whined, fixing the hat back to its proper place and brushing the hair from his eyes.

His twin sister grinned at him, giggling at his reaction, “Sorry, couldn’t help it bro. I have to let my energy and excitement out somehow!” She poked his arm as she danced around him.

Dipper laughed, “Okay, okay, how about you direct that energy into unloading your stuff from the car?”

Mabel patted Dipper’s shoulder thoughtfully, “Check-in isn’t for another five minutes, I got plenty of time.”

“You have four large bins, a mini-fridge, one suitcase full of sweaters, two suitcases full of other clothes, and another with dorm decorations,” he raised his eyebrow, “And...I’m pretty sure you have a duffle bag full of just gummy candy.”

Mabel shrugged, “Gummy koalas supply more energy.” Despite her words, she did start unloading her college bags into her moving cart, occasionally plopping a gummy candy into her mouth. Mabel pulled out a bag of stickers from her suitcase and smacked a glittery rainbow on one of Dipper's plastic bins, "BAP! Now your bin is stylish!"

"It's already stylish," Dipper smiled as he pointed to his bin. It already had a 'California' and 'film student' sticker on it. He shook his head and continued to unload his bags.

It was their second year in college at a well-known university in Los Angeles. The twins had always wanted to attend college there and as fate had it they were both accepted. They were also thrilled that they could experience college together as they had with middle and high school. Sometimes having your sibling around during new adventures was better than any best friend or significant other. Mabel was a second-year fashion and design student while Dipper was majoring in film and media studies. The kid dreamed of starting some kind of ghost hunting show or something that covered the supernatural. After spending their summers in Gravity Falls, where they were constantly exposed to the supernatural, Dipper became obsessed.

Dipper waved his hand towards his face as he began to sweat, “Gosh, why did our move-in date have to be one of the hottest days of the year?”

Mabel nodded, thankfully she had a loose, white cropped tank top on. It definitely helped with the heat. “Global warming. It’ll only get worse.” She frowned sourly, carefully setting her sweater suitcase in the cart.

Dipper nodded and handed her the car keys, “Hey, lock the car once you’ve got everything in your cart. I’m going to check into my dorm and start unpacking. I’ll say hi to Nick for you.” Dipper smiled at her and she responded with a salute.

Nick was a close friend from Dipper’s friend group he joined last year. They had similar majors and enjoyed many of the same tv shows, hobbies, and books so they decided to room together this year despite the common belief that ‘friendships get ruined that way'. There wasn’t really anyone else to live with anyway. And random roommates were a hit or miss.

As Dipper pushed his cart along the path to the dorm he happily took in the view around him. The college was pretty gorgeous with its Greek-like yet modern-style buildings. The pathways that led to the halls and dorms were surrounded by open green spaces. Most students liked to study there or just relax with friends. The large trees were also a nice touch. Dipper inhaled deeply; it reminded him of Oregon.

He came up to a long, modern-looking building that was around five stories tall. Vines crawled up the sides of the walls and some trees stood around the perimeter. ‘Smith’ was etched on the entrance. The brunette smiled up at it and proceeded to walk inside. Thankfully a gust of AC greeted him, much better than the outside heat. A young woman, either Dipper’s age or a year older, hurried over to him with a wide smile. She had highlighted brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and long eyelashes. The woman wore a blue shirt with loud yellow words, reading ‘Student Coordinator Team’ and carried a clipboard, probably full of welcome sheets or something of that matter.

“Hello there! I’m Annie, a student coordinator, here to help you with move-in! Can I get your last name?”

Smiling politely, Dipper nodded, “Pines. Dipper Pines. Thanks, but I already know I’m in room 128 with Nick Shasta.”

The young woman flipped through the papers attached to her clipboard, soon stopping and squinting at one of the pages, “Ohh.” She sighed through her nose, “I’m really sorry, but there were some issues with roommates and dorms and Housing had to make some last minute changes.”

Dipper blinked twice, his stomach flipping, “What? Changes? Why?”

She shrugged, “They were last minute, but you are now in room 918.” She glanced at her paper as if she needed to double-check, then Annie nodded. She handed him a keycard from a box that sat on the front desk. Dipper stuttered, “I don’t get it, why was my room changed? Does Nick know? Can I change back?”

She looked over Dipper’s face, which was already red from the heat, but now more so from the unexpected news. "You can email Housing Services, I’m sure they can help explain this better than me. I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic look.

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, thanks. I guess. I’ll email them. Thanks.” He sucked at his lower lip, quickly pushing his moving cart past the girl and to the elevators, his head spinning.

Why a last-second change? Was Nick aware? The elevator doors opened and Dipper pulled the cart inside as he went through various scenarios in his head. His anxiety made it hard to process the situation. When the doors opened he arrived at the fifth floor. Dipper licked his dry lips and sighed. Just email Housing, text Nick. No big deal. No big deal.

Students lined the hall with their parents, unpacking their things and getting settled into their dorms. Others were chatting with friends, looks of giddy excitement on their faces. Some were crying and hugging their parents. 916...917...918. Dipper closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing mind before he met the person behind the door. Once the thoughts were as quiet as they were going to get, Dipper unlocked the door with his key car and pulled his cart inside.

The door shut behind him, closing Dipper off from the hallway. The room was larger than an average dorm room, having two twin-sized beds, two desks, two dressers, two large closets near the door, and room for a tiny kitchen area. Although one had to bring a microwave and mini-fridge. There was nice cupboard space which was a plus.

One side of the room was already set up. The twin bed was decorated in soft grey sheets, a fluffy black pillow, and a white comforter that sported yellow triangles. There were pictures hung over the wall above the bed. Some were of a group of friends and others were of odd subjects, like a random fork or tree.

Dipper turned his attention to the kitchen area. The individual had brought a mini-fridge and had decorated it in more triangles and other geometric shapes, this time the shapes were multiple different colors that formed a messy rainbow across the stainless steel door. On the person’s desk was a computer as well as a weird-looking plant, and a jar of…

“The fuck…” Dipper mumbled slowly, squinting to see if he was viewing the objects in the jar correctly.

Teeth. Different sizes and types of teeth filled the mason jar. Dipper blinked slowly, what the hell? He plopped down on the bare mattress on his side of the room and continued to observe the other side of the room as if it was a specimen itself. It wasn’t very messy, but there was an open box of Oreos and a can of beer on the dresser. Colored lights lined the sides of the ceiling and were flashing different colors. It was quite obnoxious actually.

Dipper groaned. Hopefully, he could move in with Nick after he sent an email to Housing because the person who lived on the other side of this dorm room was a freak. A freak who collected deer teeth and probably got drunk every night.

The dorm room door suddenly swung open and a young man lazily leaned against the doorframe as he looked over Dipper, a strange glint in his eyes. The man had different tones and layers of blonde hair, which caused it to be fluffy and stick out in random places. The freckles across his cheeks and shoulders complimented his sun-kissed skin nicely. His eyes were two different colors, one being a soft golden and the other a bright blue. Dipper didn’t have much time to take that in, because his already-stressed brain was focused on other key aspects about this guy. For one, he was wearing nothing but black shorts, not even shoes or socks. The second was that he had some nice abs. Shit, they were really nice abs. And the third, he held another jar of...something...in his hands

“I lost this bad boy in my car,” he wiggled the jar and whatever was in the inside bobbed around within the liquid solution, “took me ten minutes to find it. It was so hot outside, thought they might melt or something. Hell, I could have melted. Damn heat!” He laughed loudly which made Dipper flinch. The young man waved his hand in front of his face to cool off, “Bill Cipher by the way.”

A second later, the blonde tossed Dipper the jar. Dipper’s reflexes kicked in and he caught it in his hands, fumbling a little. He stared down at the jar to see what was inside and what was inside...stared back. The jar was full of real eyeballs.

Dipper shrieked.

[queenmylovely]

The Best Things Ain’t Free

Summary: Roger Taylor x fem!reader. After meeting through friends, Roger is impressed with your lifestyle and you’re impressed with his prettiness. 

Word Count: 10.9k listen... she’s long

Warnings: cussing, smut (oral sex, fingering, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

A/N: This idea has been on my mind for ages because I can’t look at certain pictures of Roger in a fur coat without this thot. PSA that the most fictional part of this fic is reader being rich bc your girl ain’t. Let’s all use our best imagination and enjoy the life of the wealthy for a minute. Please leave feedback in any form whether it be tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(these are what inspired this entire thing bc look at them!!! pics edited by me)

☆☆☆

Normally, you wouldn’t be one to go to a dingy pub to watch some band play a set. If you wanted to hear good music, you’d go to a concert in a real venue, with box seats and catering. And if you wanted a drink you’d go to the Ivy, Grenadier, Star, or if you really wanted a nice time, the Ritz. But your friend, Kalaya, from your time at Oxford (she had attended on a merit-based scholarship, bless her heart), had insisted that you come.

“They’re one of the best bands I’ve ever heard!” Kalaya gushed, trying to convince you to go.

“Better than the Stones? The Supremes? Janis?” you asked, referencing all of the concerts you had taken her to in uni. “We saw Janis the one and only time she played solo in London, are you telling me this student band is going to match her?”

“I said one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. And it’s not like you’ve never been to the bar before, it’s Angel’s, I took you there after exams junior year, remember?” Kalaya prodded, hoping that since it was at least somewhat familiar, you might be more likely to go.

“Oh yeah, I remember. Someone spilt a drink on me and I stunk like cheap beer for the rest of the night,” you said, wrinkling your nose in annoyance.

“C’mon you can’t condemn a whole pub just because one drunk idiot made a mistake,” Kalaya reasoned.

“Never would’ve happened at the Ritz,” you said with a huff.

Lucky for her, Kalaya never took you as seriously as you wanted to be and she laughed, “Stop being so stuck up, it’s not flattering.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, I need you to go. I fancy the guitar player and I can’t show up alone, you know I get nervous in crowds on my own,” Kalaya reminded you with her best puppy-dog eyes.

Your face broke out in a grin, “You didn’t say you fancied someone, oh my gosh, of course I’ll go! Tell me more about this guitarist.”

_____

The one caveat you had made Kalaya agree to was new outfits for the show. You would go to a grungy student pub to support your friend, but like hell were you going to dress the same as everyone there. After a few hours traipsing around Oxford Street, you both had completely new, fabulous outfits that were sure to stun, on your dime of course.

When you had first met Kalaya, she hadn’t liked you paying for things for her, but when you insisted that it only made sense for you to do or else you would be doing everything alone, she began to accept it. Plus, you had told her, the money was doing a lot more good being spent on fancy dinners and trips to the sea than sitting in some bank account in Switzerland. Anyway, your parents owned the largest shipping company in England, or something, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty to spare.

“It’ll take about an hour and ten minutes by car, so we should leave about two and a half hours before the concert so we can get there early,” you planned out two days before the concert, during dinner at your shared apartment with Kalaya.

“Car? We can just take the train, it’s practically the same amount of time,” Kalaya replied.

“And get our new outfits all dirty before the show? No way, Chay can take us. I already told him about it and he’s bringing Martie so they can go too,” you explained. Chay (short for Charlie, short for Charles) was your family’s driver and Martie was his wife. They were in their early thirties so they still appreciated new music.

“What if something happens with Brian and I want to stay? Won’t Martie and Chay want to come home?” Kalaya said sheepishly.

“When that happens, we’ll just get rooms at that Inn on the boulevard and wait until morning to bring you home,” you said with a smirk.

Kalaya got her own cheeky smile, “And what about when you inevitably sweep some unknowing pretty boy off his feet? Where will they go without you to get the rooms?”

You hummed, thinking about all the boys that might be at the concert, “They have their expense card, of course.”

_____

The afternoon before the concert, the four of you met at the drive of your parent's house, ready and dressed for the night. You’re in dark wash bell bottoms, an emerald green satin top, and black leather platform boots. Draped over one arm you had your favorite fur coat, a dark brown mink, because although it was August, it got cold late at night, especially in Oxford. Kalaya had chosen a black flowy dress that came to her mid-thigh and made her medium-brown skin richer in comparison, and black suede booties. It would’ve been boring except for the silver and gold thread embroidering it, making it look like a starry night sky. She had told you it would be perfect because Brian studied stars.

Martie and Chay were a little more understated, as was to be expected since they didn’t have to try to catch anyone’s eye. Martie was in an orange floral dress in a similar cut to Kalaya’s, but a few inches longer. The orange of the dress and the yellow and olive green flowers complimented her dark brown skin with its warm undertone. Chay was in black bell bottoms, a dark red button-down with a paisley print, and regular black boots. You told him that he was lucky his skin was still tanned from the summer holiday because his typical paper-white skin combined with the outfit would’ve made him look like a vampire. Chay laughed sarcastically and Martie changed the subject by complimenting you two girls and then turned back to Chay, noticing his large collar was a little crooked and fixing it.

Everyone, including their overnight bags just in case, got into the car and Chay immediately turned the radio up, the four of you singing along the whole way there.

_

Once you got to the bar, the four of you grabbed drinks and sat at a table near the back because it wasn’t crowded yet. The group chatted easily, laughing at each other’s jokes and stories. You were all more like family than anything because Chay’s father was the family driver before him and he and Martie had been together since they were teenagers. Since Kalaya always came to all the family vacations (that Martie and Chay also came to, as “employees;” their only duty being a designated driver), the four of you were used to hanging out and going to clubs and concerts together.

Slowly, the bar started filling up and you turned to Kalaya, “We should probably go to the front now so we can secure a spot.”

Kalaya nodded, “Are you guys coming?”

Martie and Chay looked at each other, communicating silently in that way couples do. Martie answered, “No, we’ll stay here. Don’t wanna be around a bunch of sweaty students.”

“My sentiments exactly,” you said with a roll of your eyes and Kalaya elbowed you. Then you looked at Chay with a sheepish smile, “Can I leave my coat with you?”

“Yes,” Chay huffed with his own eye roll, but he was still smiling. “Now go on, get up there.”

Kalaya and you laughed and waved, hurrying to get a good spot close to the stage. That was one positive of a small venue, being close enough to the band to do some serious damage to your hearing as well as being able to actually see the sweat dripping down their temples and chests once they really got into the music.

The crowd grew around you and you were jostled a couple of times, but once you glared at the people who did it, that seemed to stop. The energy of the crowd grew and grew in anticipation and you heard lots of chatter about how excited they were to see the band. Maybe Kalaya hadn’t oversold them.

It wasn’t long before all of the stage lights went out and a booming voice came from all around, announcing the arrival of, “Your entertainment tonight, Her Majesty, Queen!”

You laughed, appreciating the audacity of the name as someone who liked to be somewhat outrageous yourself. The lights flashed back on and you realized that the band was already onstage; they went right into the first song, drums, guitar, and bass starting strong. You listened to the music, enjoying it already, but were more focused on checking out the band, which was easy because you were only ten feet away from the stage.

The singer was a slim, elegant man with light brown skin and jet black hair. His eyes were a warm brown and when he looked out at the crowd it was as if he was connecting with every person. Round lips and large teeth caught your eye and as you watched them enunciate every syllable, you couldn’t help but think they must make a wonderful smile. He was wearing a black satin jumpsuit embroidered and embellished until it shone in the light. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut and eyeliner just the same kept him on the rock side of glam, any softer and he could’ve been considered disco. And even though the concert had only just started, he was already completely into it; the energy he gave off as he strode about the stage only adding to the crowd’s.

Next you looked at the guitarist, Brian, who Kalaya was already staring at, mouth hanging open in a way that told you she didn’t realize how obvious it was. You gently reached over and tapped her chin, bringing her out of her trance and her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She started swaying to the music and looked around the stage in a much more casual way.

Back to the guitarist, as Kalaya had told you he was extremely tall, with some of the longest legs you had ever seen on anyone. With velvet black pants and a flowing white blouse, he was as glam as the singer. He was even more slim than the singer, and with the mound of curls that made up his head he kinda looked like a lollipop, nothing you would ever tell Kalaya. He had pale white skin, a prominent nose, and otherwise delicate features, but your main attention was brought to his hazel eyes that looked at the crowd as if he was surveying them. Overall you were thoroughly impressed with Kalaya’s choice to fancy him.

On the opposite side of the singer was the bassist, made clear by the fact that his guitar only had four strings and a longer neck. His clothing was a little more reserved than the other two, simply a black satin suit with a white satin shirt underneath. His chestnut brown hair was long and wavy, and it framed his also pale white face well. He was pretty relaxed in his playing, like it wasn’t that hard, but watching his hands you could tell the skill it took to stay on beat through some of the most complex rhythms. A soft nose, green-grey eyes that seemed kind, full lips, and a familiar feeling endeared him to you instantly, a smile coming to your face as he smirked when the singer pressed up against him.

Lastly, you turned your attention to the drummer, and just about gasped. Yes, the other three had been beautiful, but none of them were as pretty as him. His hair was shaggy, wavy, and dirty blonde, and heaven knew you loved your blondes. His white skin was lightly tanned which just made his baby blue eyes stand out even more. He was wearing some sort of black blouse but it was completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest that was toned from drumming totally exposed. You couldn’t see much else because of his kit but what you could see, your eyes ate up. As he drummed, his lips stuck out in a pout and his hair swooshed, glinting gold as he played the cymbals.

Kalaya had only been half-joking when she talked about you finding your pretty boy and now you had, your sights completely set on this drummer. Plus you figured that if Kalaya knew Brian, you had an automatic in.

Suddenly, you were making eye contact with the drummer but instead of being surprised or flustered, you started your mission. Biting your lip in a smile, rocking your hips to the rhythm he was playing, and tilting your head to the side, you made it clear you were checking him out. That seemed to spur him on and the drums got louder as he played harder. If he was trying to impress you, it was working, but more because it was a testament to his stamina than to his skill. Besides, you could see that you had done plenty to impress him by subverting his expectations and staring him down instead of swooning as soon as he caught your eye with his.

Not that there was anything wrong with swooning, in fact Kalaya was swooning over Brian at this very second because he had smiled at her, but you liked being the one to cause the swoon. You knew you were attractive and knew other people knew it too. You were confident and knew what you wanted, an energy you liked to radiate when you were around pretty boys.  

The drummer was the one to break eye contact first, looking around the room for a minute as if trying to distract himself. Then he looked back at you and you just smiled and waved at him. By the way his eyes widened and cheeks pinkened further than they already were, you could tell he was a little flustered, and laughed, something you were sure he could see as well. He didn’t seem to be looking away this time, so you did instead, turning your attention to Kalaya to make sure she was doing alright.

“How’s it going, babe? He in love with you yet?” you half-yelled into her ear because the music was so loud.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “More like I’ve just fallen further in love with him. But he has smiled and waved at me a couple times in between songs.”

“See? Don’t be all modest!” you urged.

“Well what about you? I see the eyes you’re making at that pretty boy drummer. He’s just the epitome of your type, huh?” Kalaya shot back.

You sighed happily, “He really is.”

_

About an hour later, the last encore was done and a cheap curtain had separated the band from the rest of the pub as they packed up their instruments. But apparently they would be joining the crowd later on, based on the talk of the people that had been standing around you up front. Not everyone seemed aware of this fact or maybe they just didn’t care, because the crowd thinned by half once the set was over. Quickly making a game plan, you and Kalaya decided to wait by the bar but not at the bar, in the path the band would most likely take from backstage to get a drink.

After waiting for only 10 minutes, you saw a curly head of hair bobbing through a doorway and realized they were on the move. You signaled to Kalaya with your eyes that they were appearing behind her (now out of their stage clothes), not interrupting what she was saying in an effort to remain casual. Once she had realized what you meant, she slowed her words, hoping to get interrupted. The blonde came into view and you flicked your eyes over to him just once, letting him know you knew he was there.

“Kalaya?” Brian asked, tapping her shoulder lightly.

Expertly, Kalaya turned like she was surprised, “Brian!”

They hugged quickly and she pulled back, “You all were amazing, just like last time.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad I actually have a chance to talk to you this time, instead of rushing off to deal with a flat tire on the van,” Brian smiled. Then he looked over to you and Kalaya jumped in.

“This is my friend,” she introduced you. “We went to Oxford together. She already knows all about you.”

Brian looked a little pleased at that, and Kalaya brought a hand to her mouth, realizing her faux pas.

“She means your band. She had to make a hard sell for me to come all the way back to Oxford to see the show,” you explained away what she said even though you all knew that wasn’t what she had meant.

“Well I’m glad you both made it,” Brian said with an easy smile. “Speaking of the band, I’d better introduce them all.”

Brian stepped back so he was in line with the other three and Kalaya turned so she was facing them next to you.

“This here is Freddie, our wonderful singer. Then we have John—”

“You can call me Deaky,” he interjected.

“Deaky then, our fantastic bassist. And finally our resident pretty boy himself, our drummer, Roger,” Brian finished with a bit of a smirk.

You all exchanged pleasantries and as Kalaya was drawn into a conversation with the rest of the band, Roger stepped closer to you.

“Pretty boy, huh?” You asked with a teasing smile. He nodded, about to say something in defense or make a jab at Brian, but you spoke first, “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Roger flushed at that, a small smile coming to his face, but he changed the subject, “So you went to Oxford?”

“Yes,” you said slowly.

“Not a big fan?” he asked.

“No, I did really enjoy it here, just kind of small for my taste. I mean, over an hour to get to where anyone big’s playing and never having heard of fine dining? I suppose it was a good change of pace, or at least that’s what my parents say, but I’m glad to be back in the city,” you explained and Roger listened intently.

“So raised in London then?”

“Yes, except for the summers. Then it was Nice or Barcelona. Oh and one year New York,” you knew you were being a little overt with the flaunting of your upbringing, but you could tell that Roger was the type of person to enjoy the best things in life, and his eyes were as big as dinner plates as he listened to you, clearly impressed. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m just from Truro, not quite as glamorous as all those,” Roger told you and while he wasn’t exactly embarrassed, you could tell he was waiting for your reaction.

“Truro’s in Cornwall, right?” you asked and Roger confirmed with a nod. “Then I’ve been there! Yeah a couple years ago Kalaya and I went on a trip to the sea and took a little detour to Truro, we loved it! Perfect for a little weekend getaway.”

Roger smiled big, your praising of his hometown charming him, “But how is Truro on the way to the sea? Wouldn’t you just go to Brighton or Southend?”

You smiled, laughing at yourself, “Well I got it in my head that I wanted to go to the very western tip of the country, and luckily Kalaya is a good enough sport to go along with my whims.”

“Do you often have these types of whims?” Roger asked and there was more cheek behind the words than in their meanings.

“Well I adore travelling,” you said, a little smirk coming to your face. Then you fixed your gaze to Roger’s eyes, “And my personal philosophy is to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want.”

Roger swallowed, his mouth parted, and he blinked a couple times before responding, trying a laugh to cover for his reaction to your words, “A bit hedonistic, no?”

“Hmm, a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, no?” you responded quickly. Not that you actually knew that Roger was similar to you in that way, but watching how he reacted to everything you said made you sure enough to say that.

Scoffing as if that weren’t true, all he could say was, “What?--who?”

“How are the two of you getting on?” the bassist, John-- Deaky, interjected, coming to stand so the three of you made a triangle.

“Well Roger here just called me hedonistic,” you said matter-of-factly, looking at Deaky with wide eyes.

“Ha! You’re one to talk, Rog,” Deaky told him, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing.

Roger just looked at you, surprised that you would’ve brought it up to Deaky. You just stuck your tongue between your teeth and smiled victoriously; you loved to keep boys on their toes, especially ones that looked so cute when they were surprised.

Deaky turned to you, “You look really familiar, have we met before?”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing, but you had shorter hair, right?” you looked at him more closely.

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, this is pretty new.”

“What university did you go to?” you asked.

“Chelsea college in London, I was in electrical engineering,” Deaky replied.

You exclaimed in recognition, “The scholarship dinner! You got my family’s engineering scholarship, that was like five years ago.”

“That’s right! We hung out during that tour of one of the facilities when our parents were talking endlessly,” he remembered and you laughed along with him.

“Wait, I thought the only private scholarship you got was from that family with the shipping business that are, like, filthy rich,” Roger said and you and John just looked at each other and then at Roger, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then his eyes went wide, “That’s your family?!”

“Might wanna close your mouth Rog,” Deaky said with a laugh, tapping Roger’s chin as you had Kalaya’s.

A voice came from the bar and you looked to see Brian waving the three of you over. Deaky immediately started walking but you hung back next to Roger.

He seemed to be walking slowly because he was still processing the information, “I kinda thought you were exaggerating about the summer trips. And you weren’t kidding when you said whatever you want whenever you want, were you?”

You reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair away from his face and Roger looked at your hand as it dropped back to your side, “Mm-mm, wasn’t kidding about the whoever, either.”

Roger looked back up at you and you winked before turning to the others and gladly accepting the drink held out to you by Brian.

Chatting in a little group with Brian, Kalaya, and Deaky, you noticed that Freddie and Roger were off to the side but didn’t pay it too much mind. You were more focused on whether this Brian liked your Kalaya as much as she did he, and judging by the way he stared at her with adoration in his eyes as she talked, he did.

Standing apart from the rest of you with Freddie, Roger took a gulp of his drink as he looked at you laughing with the others.

“Fred, man, I can hardly keep up with this girl. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes and all the things she says! I hardly know whether I wanna be with her or be her,” Roger told Freddie.

“What do you mean?” Freddie said with a confused laugh.

“Well she’s beautiful and funny and smart, sophisticated, has great taste--” “I think you’re confusing her with me,” Freddie interrupted with a sly smile.

“Ha-ha, Fred. Did I mention she’s also loaded?” Roger deadpanned.

“She’s got me there,” Freddie admitted. “Well are you going to do anything about it?

“I would, but she’s kinda intimidating,” Roger said and when Freddie looked confused he elaborated. “Like, she’s been flirting more than me tonight, even when we were onstage.”

“That’s saying something,” Freddie agreed.

“Exactly, so I feel like she’s someone who would want to make the first move,” Roger pointed out. And then a little quieter, “which you know I have absolutely no problem with.”

Freddie laughed loudly, “Well if things don’t work out between you two, I might just have to make her my best friend.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Roger said with a frown.

Patting Roger’s arm, Freddie rolled his eyes and told him, “I know darling, it was a joke.”

Deaky, Kalaya, Brian, and you got up from your seats at the bar, catching their attention, so they walked over to where you were.

“We’re walking the girls out,” Deaky explained because Brian was too busy chatting with Kalaya. Freddie and Roger nodded and then Deaky led the way, cutting through the crowd to the exit. Brian and Kalaya were lock-step behind him, and Freddie, Roger, and you followed up last, in that order.

“Leaving already?” Freddie asked you.

“Yeah, well if we want to get rooms for the night we better head over,” you explained.

“Oh are you staying at the Inn too?” Roger asked, his ears pricking up.

You nodded with a little laugh, “Seeing as it’s the only lodging in town, yes.”

Freddie laughed and Roger smiled sheepishly, thinking of something to say when you put your hand on his arm.

“Hold on a second, I gotta grab our ride,” you said quickly before heading towards the tables in the back.

Freddie and Roger shared a confused look, having assumed that the two of you would call a cab. You were walking back only twenty seconds later, slipping on your fur coat.

Roger gasped softly and gripped Freddie’s arm, “Fuck Fred, I’m in love.”

Freddie laughed, but his surprise-widened eyes were on the coat too, “With her or the coat?”

“Both,” he whispered back as you came up next to them, joined by a man and woman.

“Okay, quick introductions,” you said, realizing that you were standing halfway obstructing the doors. “Freddie, Roger, this is Chay and Martie. Technically Chay’s my family’s driver, but they’re both more like my siblings that I drag along to things like these. Chay and Martie, this is Freddie and Roger, of the band.”

“Yes, we assumed,” Martie said with a laugh, shaking Freddie’s hand first and then switching with her husband.

“Looks like we should head outside,” Chay pointed out, and the five of you exited into the cool night air. “We loved the set, you all were fantastic. And by the way, she did not have to drag us here, we were rather excited to see you guys ourselves.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Freddie said with a warm smile and it was infectious enough that everyone smiled as well.

“Well, shall we go bring ‘round the car, babe?” Martie asked, always good at keeping Chay from getting too distracted.

“Yes, right, nice to meet you,” Chay said, and they all did their goodbyes.

You turned to Freddie and Roger, “Guess I’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more, Freddie, I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about.”

“Me too dear,” Freddie said warmly. Then he gave you a pointed look, “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

You both knew what he meant, and by the looks of Roger’s flushed face, he did too although he pretended not to hear. It was hard to help the pleased smile that came to your face when you realized Roger must have talked about you to Freddie.

Freddie took a look at Roger and then said to both of you, “I’ll just go say goodbye to Kalaya then.”

He walked away and you took a couple steps toward Roger, until you were only about a foot apart. Roger wasn’t much taller than you, especially in your platforms, but from that distance you had to look up to look him in the eyes. You didn’t say anything, just looked at him and waited until he blushed again and looked down for a second, eyes landing on your coat.

“That coat looks great on you,” he rushed out, tucking a piece of hair behind his hair, which did nothing to calm him as it just reminded him of when you did earlier.

You looked down at your coat too, hands brushing over the soft, brown fur, “You like it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he said quickly and you chuckled.

“You know Roger,” you stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I think we’d have a lot to talk about too. Probably have lots in common. You should call me sometime to figure out all what that is.”

With that, you reached into the inside pocket of your coat and pulled out one of your cards that you always kept handy ‘cause you never knew when a networking opportunity would present itself. You held the card up between your index and middle finger before reaching behind Roger and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. You let yourself linger that close to him and drank in his wide eyes, the way his mouth parted and how he seemed to be leaning down closer and closer to you.

“The car’s here y/n!” Kalaya called out to you, pulling both you and Roger out of the moment.

You looked at him once more, touching his arm again and then walking away. Throwing him a smile over your shoulder, you called, “See you later, pretty boy!”

Kalaya and you got into the back of the car and waved through the window to the four boys that were watching you leave. Once they were out of sight you turned to her.

“Good catch interrupting me and Roger then,” you told her.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more, right?” Kalaya said with a grin.

You laughed, “Right, exactly. By the way, things with Brian seemed to be going good.”

“They were, we had a lot of fun talking tonight. I think he likes me,” she said with a hopeful smile.

You nudged her, “I know he likes you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.”

“Same with Roger and you,” she pointed out.

“Well, I know he likes me too,” you said with a smirk and the whole car laughed. “You know if I were the type of person to get embarrassed, that’d do it.”

_____

A week later, during a giant heat wave that left no one able to do anything but sit inside and swelter, Roger called you around 7:00pm. Because you were lying on your bed with a fan pointed directly at you and you had a phone right next to your bed, it only took one ring for you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, y/n?” you could tell by his voice it was Roger, but you kept that to yourself.

“Yep, who’s this?” you asked pleasantly.

“Roger from, um, Queen,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, Roger, hello! You don’t have to say ‘from Queen,’ you know, I remember you perfectly,” you told him, sitting up so you were leaning back on your arm. Before he could say something in response, you started again, “So how are you, how are you doing? Have you had any more shows?”

“Good, I’m great. We had two more shows last weekend further north and we’ll have more next week around town--”

“Oh really? I think Kalaya and I would really love to go to another show, we so enjoyed the last,” you interrupted.

“Brilliant, you should definitely come, both of you, I can get you the details,” he returned and you interjected with a quick thanks. “But, what about you? How are you?”

“Ugh I’d be better, but it’s just so hot today,” you complained, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Well what are you wearing?” Roger asked and you grinned.

“Oh, getting a little cheeky are we, pretty boy? Haven’t even gone out and you’re asking what I’m wearing?” you asked mock-incredulously just to make him flustered.

“No--no, I just meant like if you’re hot, like maybe,” Roger was babbling, trying to find the best way to explain what he meant. “Just if you’re wearing layers or something thick or something I just--”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you,” you said with a giggle. “Let’s see, I’m wearing satin running shorts, that to be honest are too short to run in, and one of those little strappy halter crop tops, you know the kind?”

“Y-yeah,” was all Roger could muster.

“So nothing that’s making me hot. And I’m not even wearing a bra so that’s not making me uncomfortable,” you reasoned as if this were a reasonable conversation.

You could hear his breath quicken over the phone and there was a pause where neither of you said anything.

“Maybe I should just go nude.”

You knew what you were doing, practically torturing the poor boy, but he had been the one to bring up what you were wearing, and it was the truth. But if you were simply answering his question with no impure intentions you would’ve been a lot less descriptive.

Roger made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and then that was it so you sat up and kept going, “That reminds me, I’ve just had an idea. Today seems like a write off because it’s too hot to function, but it’s supposed to be cooler tomorrow, are you doing anything?”

He cleared his throat before he answered, “Um, no, I’m not busy.”

“Great! Kalaya and I were going to go shopping but I guess she’s hanging out with Brian instead. You can come with me and offer advice,” you told him.

“You’d want my advice?” Roger asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve seen your clothes both onstage and off. You have great style, Roger,” you affirmed and he smiled at the praise.

“Thanks, so do you. Um, that sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay, do you know the boutique on the corner of 10th and Wilder?” Roger hummed yes. “Good, let’s meet there at 11:30?”

“Perfect, looking forward to it,” he said flirtily.

You smiled, “Me too. Well, I should probably go, Kalaya and I are going swimming tonight at my parents’ to make up for her flaking out tomorrow. I’d invite you along, but even though my parents are out of town, they’d definitely hear about their daughter skinny dipping with some random pretty boy they don’t know. See you tomorrow!”

“I… bye,” Roger said, sounding incredibly sad that he couldn’t stay on or go swimming.

You hung up and then immediately rushed to Kalaya’s room to tell her all about the conversation.

_____

When you walked into the boutique at 11:25am, the clerk, Ayan, waved to you, as you were a frequent patron of the store. You had probably already seen all that there was to see, but thought that Roger’s fresh eyes might see something you hadn’t given much thought to before. There were a couple other customers around, but it was a little slow for a Saturday morning so you went to chat with Ayan about any new arrivals while you waited for Roger to arrive.

They were explaining that the boutique had gotten some fur coats from an estate that were in impeccable condition. The boutique was one of your favorites because it stocked mainly independent designers, consignment, and didn’t turn up its nose at thrifted finds of luxury items. In fact, it was where you had gotten your fur coat a few years before from the estate of a well known West End actress from the forties.

“There’s this one really lovely coyote--” Ayan cut themself off, eyes widening as they looked towards the door. “Don’t look now, but some special type of pretty boy is just about to walk in.”

Thinking only one person could fit that description, you looked, smiling as Roger walked in, scanning the store for you.

“You looked!” Ayan whisper-yelled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The sound drew Roger’s eyes over to you and you waved before turning back to them.

“Don’t worry, he’s meeting me. See you in a while with loads to buy under your commission,” you told them, winking.

“That’s why you’re my favorite customer,” they joked and you chuckled as you walked away.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said cheerfully as you reached him before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He kissed you back and when you pulled back his cheeks were the cute pink that you were getting used to seeing.

“Hey, nice shirt,” he complimented.

You looked down at yourself. You were wearing high waisted medium wash denim shorts and a Hendrix t-shirt tied to the side at your waist.

“Thanks, I got it at his concert I went to,” you explained, smoothing it out.

“Where’d you see him?” Roger asked curiously.

“Royal Albert Hall, in ‘69. Me and Kalaya went together, it was a great show,” you said, remembering how it felt to see him perform.

“No way, I went to that concert too!” Roger exclaimed and you laughed excitedly.

“I wonder if we saw each other at all,” you said, smiling at the thought.

“Uh-uh, I would’ve remembered you perfectly,” Roger told you with a bold smile and this time, you were the one that was flustered.

“Should we start? I’m counting on you to find whatever I’ve overlooked in this store,” you said, changing the subject as you turned towards a rack of clothes.

“Do you have anything specific that you need?” Roger asked distractedly as he flicked through the hangers.

“The only need I have is to have all the best things this store has to offer,” you said airily.

Roger laughed and turned to you, saying teasingly, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re spoilt?”

“They usually stop when I pay them not to,” you said straight-faced, but Roger’s laugh made you break and you laughed together, leaning closer until you were sharing the same air and you placed a hand on his arm to steady yourself.

You were just wearing sandals, so Roger was taller to you than the week before and you actually had to tilt your head up to make eye contact this close. Roger’s laughter-brightened eyes looked at your still smiling lips and you noticed, the shift in mood making your breath quicken and your heart race. Under your fingers, the warm skin of his arm made you want to feel that warmth all over, and you wondered how long it would be until you could.

Then another customer brushed by, mumbling an “excuse me” awkwardly and the two of you were pulled away from a moment yet again. Your hand dropped from his arm and he turned back to the rack. It wasn’t long before your chatter started up again, especially as Roger found things that he liked for you to try on.

When he had made his way through the entire store, he had six things for you. He would have had a lot more but most of what he liked you already had.

First up was a black mesh long sleeve shirt that Roger told you to try on underneath your band shirt. It was longer than your t-shirt and you tucked it into your shorts, so your midriff that was exposed by the gap in between your clothes was covered by the mesh.

You came out of the dressing room, holding your arms out for Roger to see and doing a twirl, smiling widely.

“Do you like it?” he asked, smiling to match.

You nodded enthusiastically, “You know, when I saw this weeks ago I had no idea how to style it, but I love this! Very punk, street fashion, I’m a woman of the people.”

“Oh my gosh, never mind, I’m not sure you deserve to wear that,” Roger reached out and grabbed the sleeve, acting like he was going to pull it off.

“Stop!” you said through laughter. “You’ll stretch it out!”

He let you go and you went back in to try on more. There ended up being two dresses that you didn’t like because of color for one and the sheer amount of ruffles for the other. Then a shirt you realized you had in another color at home and a skirt that was itchy. Finally, there was a denim shirt that you didn’t really like because it was so plain. But you put it on anyway, figuring you’d humor him.

It was medium wash, the same color as your shorts, and it had some flowers embroidered in colorful thread which you supposed were nice, but overall it looked blah.

You stepped out of the dressing room again and Roger saw your not-so-happy face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, “Don’t like it, it looks weird.”

Roger rolled his eyes with a smile, “That’s because you’re wearing it wrong. C’mere.”

You stepped close to him and he said a soft “may I” to which you nodded. His long fingers unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of the shirt. Then he tied it in a knot, fixing the ends so they laid correctly. His fingers brushed your skin and though they were warm, the feeling made you shiver. Roger was moving his hands so delicately, precisely, and you felt a rush of want go through you.

“And since you’re wearing a t-shirt,” even more carefully, he undid the upper buttons, leaving only the middle two done. Then he turned you around to look in the mirror and immediately your mind was changed. The way Roger styled it emphasized your waist instead of hiding it and now the monotone look worked instead of looking drab.

“How do you feel about it now?” Roger asked with a proud little smile.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, looking at him through the mirror.

Roger stepped past you into the dressing room and grabbed the mesh shirt, “Well here are your two finds.”

He handed the shirt to you, but before he could return his hands to his sides, you grabbed one of them, sliding your fingers along his to his palm and feeling the calluses there from drumming.

Roger watched your hand on his and only looked up when you started talking.

“Did you see anything else you liked?”

“Oh, do you want more than these two things? I can look again,” Roger suggested.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand, “No, I mean did you see anything you liked for yourself? So I can thank you for helping me with these.”

“You don’t have to,” Roger protested.

“I might be spoiled, but I like to do some spoiling myself. I want to get you something, and this shop is too good for nothing to catch your eye. Anything you liked, nothing’s too much,” you told him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“Anything?” Roger hesitated.

“Anything, Roger,” you said, using your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That seemed to reassure him.

“I did see this display with this really gorgeous…” he trailed off, still uncertain, looking down.

“Really gorgeous… what?” you prompted.

“… fur coat,” he looked up to see your reaction. You were beaming.

“That’s the one Ayan was telling me about, the coyote one, right? It is gorgeous, they'll be so happy that it’s gonna sell already!” you exclaimed, using your hold on his hand to pull him over to that part of the store.

Roger followed you, a little confused about what you said, but glad that you seemed so happy. You let go of Roger’s hand, set your clothes on the corner of a nearby table, and pulled the coat off the mannequin, handing it to Roger. He pulled it on carefully, pulling the sides so they were equal.

“Here,” you put your hands behind his neck and then collected the hair that had gotten trapped underneath the coat and moved it to where it should be. He smiled his thanks and you smiled back, before turning him around to face the mirror he was standing in front of.

You stepped a little to the side of him and watched him look at himself. He let out a little laugh, the kind that meant “damn, I didn’t think I’d look this good,” and you had to agree.

Then he turned back around to you, “Whaddya think?”

You looked him up and down, the desire you felt earlier only growing, “You look… hot.”

Roger was a little surprised at your outright statement, but that was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when you grabbed the lapels of the coat and used them to pull him to you, kissing him full on the lips without hesitation.

As shocked as he was at the spontaneity, kissing you was something he had been thinking about for a while, so he recovered quickly, kissing you back. He put one hand just above your waist and the other on one of your hands, keeping it there.

But before either of you could deepen the kiss, you heard the sound of heels clacking and pulled back. Roger’s lips followed yours, and you giggled, leaning back towards him. You only planned to give him another peck but his soft lips distracted you for another five seconds or so before you remembered what you were doing.

You pulled back, dropping your hands, except Roger kept the one he had been holding and linked his fingers with yours, smiling at you. He still looked clear-eyed and focused after the kiss, so you decided that you had to get him home quickly so you could remedy that.

“So I was thinking we should go ring up and then go to my place. To drop off my new clothes and… stuff,” you said, a bit of a suggestive emphasis on the last word.

“Let’s,” Roger said, picking your shirt up off the table.

The two of you ended up taking off your new finds, figuring it’d be too hot outside for a fur coat and denim shirt, and then headed to the checkout. Ayan was pleased, but not all too surprised that you were taking home the new fur, even if it was technically going to Roger’s home. Roger, to his credit, didn’t have any more trouble with you paying, but insisted that he carry back all the bags. You agreed with the stipulation that he would still hold your hand, which he did.

You only lived a ten minute walk away, and Roger had taken the underground, so you walked the way home. There was chatting along the way, but it was hard to get too deep into any one topic with the feeling of each other’s hands and the anticipation of what was to come distracting you.

Once you got to your building, you were ushered in by the doorman that tipped his hat and wished you both a good day. Then the lobby manager told you a package had arrived and gave you a little thin rectangular box the size of a book. Finally you got into the elevator and the attendant hit the button for the highest floor, yours.

“It’s from my parents,” you told Roger about the box.

“Are they still travelling?”

“Yeah, they should be in Barcelona right about now,” you replied.

“Must be beautiful there,” Roger mused and you hummed in agreement. Then the elevator dinged and the two of you got off, waving to the attendant as the doors closed. You unlocked one of the two doors that were in the hallway (the other was the stairs), and opened the door, ushering Roger in first since he was carrying things.

You took off your shoes to the right of the entryway, next to a pile of other shoes and Roger did the same. Then you grabbed the garment bag that held Roger’s fur coat and hung it on the coat stand. You also took the paper bag with your shirts and put it on your dining table with the package as Roger followed you the rest of the way into your apartment. As you walked about, putting things where they went, Roger was looking around at your place. You had a dining area that turned into a living room with giant floor to ceiling windows on the walls that looked out over the city. Roger was absorbed by trying to see if he could see his building from here when he heard you calling him.

It took him a minute to figure out where you were; there was a long hallway that led to many doors. But it turned out you were in the first off of the dining room which was the kitchen.

As he came into the room, you looked up at him with a smile, “Here, wash up, I cut us up some peaches, if you like them.”

“Love ‘em,” he replied sweetly as he headed to the sink.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, soda, tea…”

“Water’s great,” Roger answered and you got two glasses. “I was looking out the windows, you have quite the view.”

“We’ll have to eat this in my bedroom, you can see Hyde Park from there,” you told him and he grinned excitedly, grabbing the bowl of peaches and then walking behind you, nudging you forward with his knee and you laughed.

“Right so, what are all these doors then? Seems like an awful lot for one flat,” Roger teased and you chuckled.

So you pointed to each as you came to it, “Bathroom, office, guest bedroom that Kalaya uses as a closet, Kalaya’s bedroom with an ensuite, closet that also leads to my room--”

“Wait, like a walk-in closet? Oh I have to see this,” Roger said, heading for the door.

“Later, later, I promise,” you said, grabbing his sleeve to pull him back. “We still have the pièce de résistance, my bedroom.”

With that, you pushed open the door and nudged Roger to walk in. He did, eyes quickly taking in your four-poster bed, vanity, bookshelves, record player and collection, chaise lounge, and finally matching windows to the ones in the living room. He walked over to the chaise which was in front of the windows and set down the bowl on the little side table, looking out the windows. You set down the glasses and stood next to him.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” he gestured to the chaise.

“Yeah, when I’m home alone. I’ll just sit and watch the city live its life for awhile. It’s like people-watching but on a bigger scale,” you explained and he nodded.

So Roger sat down on the chaise, back against the raised end and legs spread out in front of him. He smiled at you and patted the space between his legs. You sat there, your back against his front, but you tilted yourself to the side so you could face each other more easily.

Roger grabbed the peaches and the two of you fed each other slices as you watched the city. It was a quiet and lovely moment with a growing underpinning of desire as the juices dripped down your chins and you kissed away the excess. Once the peaches were gone, you turned more towards him, catching his lips with yours fully once again. The taste of peach lingered on both of your lips, and the kisses were just as sweet as the fruit, just as soft as its skin.

Bringing your hands to Roger’s face, you swiped your tongue along his lower lip, moving it inside when he opened his mouth. Roger made a soft sound and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your chests were flush. Your breaths pushed you even closer and the feeling was intoxicating, all your senses consumed by the warmth of the moment. You tried adjusting to straddle Roger’s legs, but the angle of the chaise wasn’t very easy for that, so you pulled back, laughing lightly.

Roger had been even further into the kiss than you were so he wasn’t exactly sure why you were laughing but smiled all the same. This time, you saw his unfocused eyes and the tilted grin on his face and felt very proud of your work. Standing up, you brought Roger with you, grabbing the belt loops of his jeans to pull him with you as you walked backward towards your bed. Then you spun him around, pulling open one side of the gauzy curtains that were draped over the frame of your bed, and pushing Roger onto the bed. He laughed as he landed, scooting back so you could get on as well, letting the curtain fall back to its original place.

The light filtering through the curtains was hazy and soft, painting both you and Roger in amber light. Roger sat so his back was against your pillows and you made your way up his body, straddling his hips. His hands tentatively rested on your thighs, but he looked around your room once more.

“If this wasn’t already obvious, I really like your-- your decor,” Roger’s voice faltered as you took off your shirt, leaving you only in your bra.

You smiled mischievously, “I thought you would, pretty boy.”

***

Then you reached for his shirt’s hem, pulling it over his head. It left his waves a bit of a mess, so you combed your fingers through his hair. He hummed and closed his eyes as you did. When you were done, you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and leaned in for another kiss. The two of you already had a rhythm of push and pull that made it easy to get lost in the kiss. Your free hand smoothed over the tan skin of Roger’s torso, sliding across his pecs and down to his waist, and you felt goosebumps erupt over his skin, smiling into the kiss.

Roger’s hands moved from your thighs, up your torso to your breasts, feeling your nipples harden through your bra and when you moaned as Roger thumbed them, he smiled as well. Your hands went down to Roger’s waistband and you unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper and starting to shift them down his body. But his hand over one of yours stopped you and you both pulled back from the kiss.

“Can I… eat you out first?” his request wasn’t what you were expecting, but the look of desire in his eyes and the slout pout of his lips sent a bolt of heat to your core and you nodded quickly, switching places with him.

He did take off his pants, tossing them aside, left only in his boxer-briefs. You could see his hard-on, but he was focused on you. Roger unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts, slower than you had his, and pushed them down your legs with your underwear.

Spreading your legs gently, Roger laid between them, turning his head to kiss up the inner thigh of your left leg. His mouth pressed wet kisses into the skin, making your tummy flip and just when he got to the top of that thigh, he switched to the other. Once he was done with both, he pressed kisses over your slit before dragging his tongue up through your folds. You let out a shaky breath as his tongue pressed on your clit, and you tangled your fingers in the hair at the crown of his head.

Roger formed his mouth around your clit and sucked softly, making you moan lowly. He pressed a kiss to your clit then looked up to you with wide eyes and asked, “Is that good?”

The way he asked wasn’t condescending like he already knew the answer, but more eager like he wanted to make sure it was.

So you hummed and nodded, “Yes, Roger, you’re so good, keep going.”

His mouth returned to your clit and he swirled his tongue around it, making you gasp out, “Oh-- yes, Roger, just like that, fuck.”

The praise made him even more set on making you feel good, so he brought a finger to your entrance, and pushed it in slowly. His mouth didn’t slow on your clit, but he was searching with his finger to find your g-spot, knowing he did when your legs twitched. Roger slipped in another finger with the first, immediately working on your g-spot and the feeling was so strong and so good that it was almost too much and your legs tried to close around him.

But Roger just used his free arm to hold you in place. He kept the same rhythm with his fingers and mouth and the pleasure within you just grew and grew. You could feel the tension in your lower stomach tightening with every brush of his fingers inside of you and every circle of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh, I’m close, Roger, fuck,” you managed to get out and Roger moaned against you, making your breathing uneven. “You’re such-- such a, fuck, a good, oh, such a good boy.”

Roger whined against you and you immediately came, the vibrations spreading hot pleasure all over your body as your back arched and you moaned loudly, tightening your grip in Roger’s hair. He kept going, wanting to make you feel as good as possible, partly because he couldn’t believe how hot it was to see you like that.

You were breathing like you had run a mile, but slowly coming down and you loosened your hold on Roger’s hair, combing through it again. Roger’s hum on your clit made you jump a little so you touched the side of his face to get him to stop; he propped himself on his elbows to look at you.

With a playful smileful you asked, “Did you like that, pretty boy?”

He just looked at you confusedly, so you explained, “Well you’re grinding into the mattress so I thought it must’ve been good.”

Roger’s eyes widened as he realized what he had been doing. He stopped, sitting up quickly.

“It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed,” you told him, sitting up and running a thumb over his pink cheek. “I’m glad you felt good too. Now, why don’t you let me make you feel even better, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed, “Yeah.”

You switched spots with him and leaned down for a kiss, running your tongue into Roger’s parted mouth and getting a taste of yourself in return. Reaching behind you, you undid your bra and took it off. Roger’s hands went to your breasts and you bit his lip when he pinched your nipples, moaning together.

You kissed from his lips to his jaw then down his neck, nipping again on his pulse point and where his neck met his shoulder. As you made your way down his chest, you pressed soft kisses basically wherever you could reach, and Roger squirmed a little underneath you, bright blue eyes watching your actions closely. A few kisses to his tummy and above his waistband and then you took off his underwear with his help, his cock hard and flushed red against his stomach.

Settled on your knees between his legs, and putting one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, you grabbed his dick in your other hand and bent down, pressing kisses along the shaft and then peppering them on the head. Roger moaned softly and you started pumping him and tongued his slit.

You sucked on his head, using your tongue to swirl around it and he groaned, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Pulling off, you pressed a couple more kisses to this head and stroked him, “Such a pretty boy and such a pretty cock.”

Roger’s hips bucked and you hid your smile by going down on him again, not giving him any break. You worked your mouth down along with your hand, building a rhythm that was making precum bead on his head, which you happily sucked off.

Looking up at Roger, you saw that his head was tossed back, eyes closed with his lip between his teeth. You lifted your hand from his thigh up, brushing your thumb along his lower lip so he would let it go. As he did, he looked at you, tilting his head forward. His pupils were blown and he looked desperate as he watched you. You got an idea and a shiver ran across your body. You stuck your first two fingers out and slowly pushed them into his mouth, Roger’s lips immediately closing around them and starting to suck.

Both of you moaned; him around your fingers and you around his cock, making his hips buck again. You took him deeper in your mouth, as deep as you could go, gagging twice around his cock before pulling off again. You let the excess spit in your mouth fall onto his dick and used your hand to spread it around, jerking him off faster than before.

Roger was watching you intently, moaning whenever you twisted your wrist. You licked your lips and swallowed, “Your lips look so good around my fingers, Roger. You’re such a pretty boy, all desperate for me.”

He tried to say something that you could barely make out as “please.”

“Shhh, I got you. Do you wanna be a good boy and come for me?” you asked sweetly, lowering your head back towards his cock.

Roger nodded, keeping your fingers in his mouth, so you brought his head back into your mouth and sucked in time with your hand. You could tell Roger was getting close with the way his hips were shifting and you could feel the vibrations of his moans on your fingers stronger. His thighs were tensing so you pulled your fingers from his mouth, gripping his thigh with your wet fingers, and the slight dig of your nails into his skin set him off as he warned you hoarsely, “I’m gonna come-- fuck.”

He came as you jacked his dick off into your mouth, swallowing his cum as quickly as you could. His high moans of your name ignited a burn between your thighs but you focused on the task at hand. You pulled off, stroking him slowly now and using your tongue to lick any leftover spots of cum off his head. As his breath evened, you pressed one more kiss to his head and then sat up and moved to lay next to him.

***

Roger turned towards you and you kissed him quickly. You tangled one leg between his and started brushing his hair away from his still flushed face. One of his hands rested on your waist, tapping out a simple rhythm.

“You’re-- you’re good at that,” he told you with a little smile.

“Thanks, so are you, pretty boy,” you said, smiling when he flushed. “Are you ever not going to blush when I call you that?”

He looked away, then looked back, an unbelieving laugh escaping him, “Probably not.”

“Good,” you laughed, bringing him in for another kiss.

_

Later, after cleaning up, as the two of you were redressing, Roger remembered that he had yet to see your closet.

“You promised,” he reminded teasingly.

“I remember,” you rolled your eyes, but opened the door and led him in. He stepped in slowly, taking in every inch of very organized racks of clothes, shoes, and accessories with his eyes, which was a lot of inches.

“This closet is literally the size of my living room. My clothes would only fill one rack. Oh, I want this amount of nice clothes,” Roger said wistfully, running his hands across the racks.

“You know, I could help with that, for a small price,” you said with a smile.

“Are you thinking… sex? Because I’m already feeling like your sugar baby with the coat immediately turning into us hooking up,” Roger said and you could not tell if he was joking.

A look of amused shock took over your face as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped, “I was thinking more like you keep helping me with my own shopping so I focus on finding the best things instead of buying everything in the store, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” Roger said with a sheepish smile.

“And excuse you, ‘immediately turning into us hooking up?’ it’s not like I jumped you in the store!” you said, pushing his shoulder.

“Well, you kind of did jump me,” he countered, stepping in front of you and placing his hands on your waist. You scoffed, not touching him. So he took your hands and put them on his shoulders, placing his back on your waist. You pretended to be mad and looked away, not making any move to separate yourself from him.

Roger leaned closer, only a few inches from your face, “I was gonna say that I wouldn't mind being your sugar baby, it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, looking at him, and he did. “It’s a sweet deal for you because you get stuff and sex. I can get sex from anyone, the only payment worth it from you is your sense of style.”

“Well then I’ll happily pay with that,” Roger nodded. He smiled and you rolled your eyes at his absurdity, but let him press his lips to yours in a kiss that made up for it.

★★★

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[peterxwade24]

Broken Hearts and New Beginnings

Chapter 3

Originally written for Maribat March 2020 day 28, prompt Highschool (plus bonus prompt Sweetheart's Dance).

(This chapter is titled “Goth Girls and Boys” on AO3.)

Marinette scowled at the boys who approached her, she may be at the dance but she wasn’t here because she wanted to. She remembered why she came and her scowl lessened.

~~~

Marinette looked at her friends. “You want me to go where?”

“The sweetheart’s dance at school.” Adrien started, looking pleadingly into Marinette’s cold blue eyes. “Please Bug. Roy’s going to be there.”

Sabrina and Chloé looked at Marinette with pleading eyes while Nino looked at her indifferently before he shrugged.

“We’re going to wear pretty dresses.” The girls chorused excitedly.

Marinette sighed and nodded. “Okay. Sure. Fine. But you all have to pick your own colours and fabrics.”

~~~

Marinette looked down at her dress, a high-low pastel pink dress covered in black lace with one sleeve. She paired it with her favourite black high-top Converse and a pair of pastel pink tights. She wore a black choker and several black piercings littered her ears. Her sickly green coloured heart (which had started to try to mend itself) hid in her hair once again.

She looked out at her friends, Sabrina in her short dress with a black, strapless bodice and a lavender skirt which swirled around her as she danced with Chloé. Chloé wore a form-fitting, floor-length white to yellow ombré gown with bell sleeves and an off-shoulder neckline. Her blond hair was pulled back in a simple updo to match Sabrina’s simple curls. The two girls were twirling and spinning, their laughs filling the gymnasium and lifting Marinette’s spirits.

She looked at where Nino stood, beside the snack table, and smiled at the way his suit fit him. It was a dark navy blue suit jacket over a pair of dark navy blue dress pants with a white button-up shirt under a black and orange spotted tie with an orange pocket square. She looked over to where Adrien stood, dancing with Roy, and nodded. Adrien wore a black three-piece suit with a blue pocket square and an orange and blue striped tie.

Marinette let out a sigh as she settled into the bleachers, grateful she’d made her own dress comfortable with ample padding. She didn’t turn to look at the person who sat down next to her, simply noticed that whoever it was wore charcoal coloured dress pants. “Whoever you are I don’t want to dance with you.”

He let out a laugh. “I don’t want to dance with you either. So don’t worry. I just figured you’d like some silent company.”

Marinette looked at her silent companion out of the corner of her eye. She took in the countenance of the boy, his strong jawline covered in scars, and she recognized the boy next to her. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you too old to be at a high school dance?”

Jason let out a friendly laugh and shook his head. “I’m a senior. Timbers is sixteen and I’m nineteen. I’m just an old senior.” He shrugged before pulling out his phone.

The two sat in silence, watching their groups interact and mingle, before a popular song was played. Marinette’s girls approached them and grabbed her hands at the same time Tim and Conner grabbed Jason’s hands.

The nine teens danced for hours, mostly against Marinette and Jason’s will. They spent most of the rest of the night dancing.

---

Marinette and her friends arrived at the school not too long after the Wayne clan. For the first time since they arrived in Gotham, Marinette and her girls wore matching outfits. Marinette wore a pink short-sleeved dress with black criss-crossing lines with a white shirt collar and cuffs with gray tights and her black high-top Converse. Chloé wore a yellow short-sleeved dress with black criss-crossing lines with a white shirt collar and cuffs with gray tights and her yellow high-top Converse. Sabrina wore a purple short-sleeved dress with black criss-crossing lines with a white shirt collar and cuffs with gray tights and her dark purple plaid high-top Converse.

Adrien and Nino simply wore a pair of blue jeans and a dark blue or dark orange long-sleeved shirt with dark gray socks and their dark orange or dark blue high-top Converse. They stood protectively behind Chloé and Sabrina, while Marinette stood protectively in front of all four of her friends.

The Waynes wore mostly jeans and tees, but Jason (who Marinette was definitely not paying more attention to than the rest of them) wore a worn, brown leather jacket over his shirt and his jeans had rips and tears, as though they were well-loved, and (instead of the sneakers his brother, Conner, and Roy wore) he sported a pair of combat boots. Jason, whose face was covered in scars that Marinette wished would go away, turned to look at Marinette. He offered her a smile and waved at her.

Chloé held back a snicker as she watched Marinette’s face flush in embarrassment. She nudged Sabrina and gestured to Marinette before turning around and drawing Adrien and Nino’s attention to the front of their group and the four of them held in snickers. She turned back to the front of the group and she watched as Jason’s green-tinged blue eyes trailed up and down Marinette’s form and she felt pride in not only herself for helping Marinette through it all but also in Marinette for accepting her help all those years ago. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that things could have happened differently if she hadn’t looked into those blue eyes all those years ago and saw the light leave them, if she hadn’t looked at that once happy red heart and seen it broken in two.

Chloé looked around, at the little family they had built, and looked ahead, towards the group of boys. They had built this for themselves, it had started with Marinette and Chloé but it grew into a five person family. Chloé brought her hand up to her face and brushed away the tears that were flowing down her face like rivers through a valley. She must have made a noise because Marinette turned around and her face twisted in anger.

“Who made you cry?” Marinette’s voice was deep and reminded Chloé of the other girl’s father. Chloé placed her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and smiled.

“I just realized how much I love you, and this family.”

[incompletionism]

Hands On with... The Outbound Ghost

“Back after so many years?” booms a mysterious voice as we’re transported to an otherworldly realm, filled with glowing orbs that speed towards the titular spook of The Outbound Ghost, “I wonder how you’ve changed.”. Whoever they are, they could just as easily be talking about the Paper Mario series that inspired the game.

Originally an RPG spinoff of the core Mario games, the Paper Mario games soon became a strong series in their own right, characterised by witty dialogue and 2D sprites in a papery 3D world. As the series went on, the games began to move away from their stat-based RPG roots and closer and closer to puzzle/action/exploration hybrids.

This, plus the introduction of new and often intrusive gimmicks in each subsequent entry from Super Paper Mario’s flip mechanic on-wards, alienated a lot of the series’ original fans.

Fans of the first two (Paper Mario on the N64 and The Thousand Year Door on the Gamecube), have since taken matters in their own hands, most notably 2020’s Bug Fables, but with The Outbound Ghost’s Kickstarter coming to an end tomorrow, I thought it was time I took at this promising successor to TTYD’s throne.

The demo (Currently available on Steam!) begins with a car careening down a quiet country road at night. Suddenly, the screen cuts to black and we hear the shriek of tires before a ghost steps out of the flaming wreck.

A cute, blue-glowing 2D sprite that wouldn’t look out of place in a Paper Mario Ghost Mansion, the nameless ghost wears a simple, often neutral, expression and a little tuft of hair. This baby-faced apparition reminds me of Casper the Friendly Ghost just a tad, and the thick white borders around this and every other character sprite calls to mind the borders of stickers, which fits the paper theme well.

Although the first impression of it is consumed by fire, I have to say now that the world in this game is gorgeous. Each individual blade of grass wafts in the breeze and makes the world feel like our own, rather than a series of dioramas. Whether that’s going to be a bridge too far for fans of Paper Mario’s handcrafted world, I’m not sure, but it certainly means this would not run on the N64, and I have to confess that my laptop struggled at times, which makes me question how well it’ll run on the Switch.

That’s a shame, as The Outbound Ghost’s controls feel like they’re better suited for a console than a PC. Even though it uses the classic WASD/arrow keys and you have some kind of crystal that allows you to dash with the space bar, one glaring example of this was when equipping a shovel. Each of the four slots were at 45-degree angles, which was not the most intuitive thing to navigate with four directions, but would be a breeze with an analogue stick.

Also easier with more than four directions to move in are what I call the “faint and have an out-of-(non)body experience in a weird purple dimension where orbs and a mysterious voice just won’t leave you alone” sections. Two of these appear in the demo, and both of them award you with a Brave or Timid soul (represented by a yellow or blue puddle in your inventory) based on how many orbs you let hit you. This feels rather counterintuitive considering the bullet hell sections, which involve dodging projectiles heading your way as usual.

Fans of Danganronpa and Undertale will recognise the bullet hell mechanics well - you control an icon representing you (a mini silhouette of our spirit here) and do your best to dodge a series of obstacles coming your way. These take the place of turn-based combat in The Outbound Ghost and come between dialogue options that slowly fill the meter at the top of the screen.

The only example of this in the demo is a scene involving helping an Outbound resident through the stages of grief over her death. On each turn, you have the choice of three verbs along the lines of Insult, Console, and Explain to best respond to their current stage.

Common sense usually serves you well here - don’t insult an angry person to reason with them, for example - but the choices being coloured Red, Purple and Green does muddy the waters a little. None of the dialogue exchanged in this segment is actually seen, which does detach you from the impact of your choice, even if there’s only one right answer to progress.

I’ve been keeping things light on plot so far, but I’ll divulge a bit now. After you leave the aforementioned car wreck and head into the town of Outbound, you encounter the local (deceased) teen detective, Michael McFly, who suspects you of murdering the entire town some time ago.

You play as the accused ghost, who conveniently has forgotten everything about themself except their name, which is where you come in. As far as immersion goes, a lot of RPGs go the “amnesiac protagonist that you can name” route, but most offer a canon default name (think Chrono in Chrono Trigger) or easter eggs for certain names, neither of which I could find here. However, the ghost is referred to exclusively with they/them pronouns, so absolutely anyone can put themselves in the spectre’s proverbial shoes.

Outside of regular world traversal and picking up everything not nailed down, there are a couple of other mechanics revealed in the demo that I haven’t mentioned yet.

A couple of times, you’re faced with a locked door or gate and have to collect enough lockpicks to complete a slide puzzle, which involves getting cylinders of metal out of the way of a key so you can push it to the lock. Later puzzles involved tilting a 3D box (officially dubbed the girabox) to fit a square peg into its respective hole, so I imagine the full game will push puzzles even further.

Beyond that, star-shaped pads appear on the ground towards the end of the demo, allowing you to traverse the way back to the town with a spot of platforming. A Cards section can be found on the game’s menu, which will be part of the Spades n Souls minigame in the full game.

Over the course of 30 minutes, the demo introduced me to the majority of characters and possibly locations, but I have the feeling that a lot of the game will be spent fleshing out each of their backstories.

Utterly charming and a sight to behold, The Outbound Ghost is certain to make waves next year, but I do wonder which platform it’ll be at home on. Initially aiming for the Switch and PC, the lower technical capacity of the former and the unsuited control scheme of the latter do suggest that its stretch goals of PS and XBox will be the superior versions. But then, it is being ported to phones too, so hopefully I’ll be proven wrong when it releases.

The Kickstarter has a hair under a day of funding left to go, so jump in now if you want to support the project. Do you think this game will be the answer to the question “Where’s my Paper Mario?” or will the lack of traditional RPG elements alienate fans of the series?

[letterstothemidnightsociety]

It's 2007 and somehow, miraculously, Supernatural survives yet another rocky (?) season of mediocre ratings to come back for a third season, or at least, half season, but that season starts out with a real bang! Like, just a real solid trio of an opener for season three. It reminds me of all the things I love about SPN and also it reminds us of all the things that frustrate the hell out of me on SPN. So where did we leave things off?

First up, there’s Dean, who sold his soul to the devil in order to bring Sam back from the dead. Sam, you’ll remember, was part of some overly complicated ponzi scheme to find the perfect vessel to open a door - yep, open a door - and lost to Aldous Hodge who just straight up murders Sam in the season finale. So Dean get’s Sammy back, but in exchange, he’s only got one year left before he permanently moves down south. Oh! And even though they got Sam back and Sam kills Aldous Hodge (RIP pal), they neglected to keep the door from opening. The door to Hell, that is, and now they’ve allowed a shiz ton of demons out to freely roam the earth. Way to go, boys, you lost again! They are two for two on these season finales guys!

OH but they DO kill the Yellow Eyed Demon, so that’s a plus, but not before he plants the most perfect seed of doubt in Dean’s mind - “How do you know what you brought back is all Sammy?” Like, ugh, UGH, ugh!!!! What a way to drive the knife in deeper! What a way to make the heart of this show slowly start to crumble! C’est Magnifique!! *chef's kissy fingers*

So with all that emotional baggage weighing us down, how do we start season 3? How else - with a threesome of course! And also some technicolor grading, it’s wild guys.

Oh boy guys, let’s talk about this opener for a hot sec. I got into it a little bit last season, but as much as I love Dean, you HAVE to admit that that boy is gross. Just like...he’s a little gross. I’m also old enough now to see exactly how many red flags he’s raising through the last 45 episodes. Like, sorry Little Me, but he is not boyfriend material. Not to mention that all this debauchery is 1,000% him distracting himself from the consequences of his own actions, but we’ll get into that later.

Meanwhile, Sam is doing something constructive and trying to figure out how to reverse the curse and save Dean’s soul. And here we have the culmination of two seasons worth of character development - faced with the imminent demise of Dean Samuel Winchester, Sam tries to step up and take care of his brother for once in his life; Dean parties like it’s 1999. There were two things I thought of during this episode - 1) isn’t this not unlike the sort of behavior you see in suicidal people who have finally decided to take their own life? Which is just, like, further held up by the fact that Dean’s big monologue at the end literally has the line “Truth is I’m tired, Sam. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.” and like...dude, you are NOT ok! Why isn't??? ANYONE??? ADDRESSING THIS????? And 2) Dean is sharing a lot of similarities with the demons in this episode.

Because MEANwhile, there’s demons! So many demons! Specifically, the Seven Deadly Sins ones, but also, spoiler alert, Ruby, who is gettin’ reeeeealll into that ketchup.

All these baddies just really taking advantage of their time topside cuz Hell is, as they so artfully put it, it’s like Hell, so they’re just livin’ it up while they still can ~almost like foreshadowing or something~?!?!?

Real talk though, it being a real long time since I’ve watched this season, it’s these kinds of details that I’m impressed with this time around. There is so much character work that goes into this show and it’s something I definitely connected with the first time around, but not on conscious level. Now I can look at it through time and experience and articulate what I’m seeing, which makes this re-watch infinitely more enjoyable.

Episode 1 of this season continues what they started in season 2 and just keeps building out that Hunter Community. Like, there really is a whole Community out there that keeps in contact and works together and makes sure everyone’s up to date on the latest hot goss, and it all makes John Winchester come off like a real creepy splinter cell lone gunman type. And that in turn makes the Winchester sons look like total, unprofessional boneheads who managed to open a portal to Hell. “UGH Great Jorb Guys, but can we blame them? They’re John’s kids,” is a conversation between hunters that I am headcannoning, but also 100% support.

Honestly, I love the idea of the Winchesters being just these real, like, b-grade, Walmart Brand Hunters that other Hunters are just SO done with. We kind of see a little bit of that with Isaac and Tamara, but by the end of the episode, the Winchesters prove that they’re...better Hunters? I hope somewhere in the next 12 seasons I get an episode that is told from another Hunter’s POV who is legitimately better/more emotionally balanced than the Winchesters and the whole episode is them just, like, cleaning up a bunch of Winchester messes like, SONuvabitch, these two ASSholes. I think we see a fair amount of episodes from the POV of people who are less qualified than the Winchesters who end up being mentored by them, but I’d be stoked for them to run into just a group of people who hate them for totally legitimate, professional vs amature reasons.

Bobby does not count because Bobby signed up to be their Dad and so he agreed to take care of their messes when he took that job.

And then we get to “The Kids Are Alright” which showcases one of my fav changes for this season - BRIGHTLY! LIT! HIGH! SATURATION!!!! And of course, by fav, I mean, Most Hilarious.

I do walk a fine line on this one truth be told. Like, season 1 was definitely going for A Look. It’s super gritty and high contrasty and stylized. Now, I got what they were going for but I wasn’t always crazy about it, mostly because the quality on the DVD’s was terrible. Quick tip for everyone: in order to get 2+ hours worth of content on a DVD, you have to compress the final edit of the program to a pretty small bitrate. When we drop videos onto DVD’s at my work (it isn’t often, thank goodness), the discs themselves only hold, like, 2GB worth of content and that is NOT A LOT when it comes to video files. The more compressed a video file is, the less detail you’re gonna get in the visuals. Watching episodes on Netflix (where everything’s probably at a higher bitrate and therefore is a better quality visual), it’s not bad, but on my DVDs, the compression is so heavy that we get SUPER hot highlights and SUPER crunchy shadows - what a lot of people would called “crushed blacks” because you’ve lost all the detail in the shadows and you’re left with a grainy, noisy, black hole on the screen. Like I lost so much detail in the pilot episode guys, I could not make out this guy’s face.

A rough approximation of my DVD quality. Still recommend it over Netflix for the Accurate Soundtrack tho.

Season 2 SPN toned that Look down a lot, like, a lot a lot. Enough that you still got the general vibe they were going for but not enough that you couldn’t make out faces anymore. But through this whole process, the CW execs kept pushing for the show to look lighter, more colorful, less film noir more...well, CW. And in season 3 it finally happened!!!

I get what those execs were going for, but also, I feel like the colorists on these first few episodes just REALLY went wild out of spite. Lookit this shot from “Magnificent Seven” right before Envy causes some rando innocent bystander to beat a girl to death for her shoes -

GREEN GREEN GREEN GREEN!!!! I WONDER WHICH SIN THIS GUY IS????

Then in “The Kids Are Alright” the birthday party looks like everything is coated in day-glow neon.

The Winchester Bros look like they just got back from 3 weeks in Aruba - LOOK at the saturation levels in these skin tones! LOOK AT THEM!!

My screencap ability aside, only in SPN can a cemetery at night have brighter lighting than a diner in the middle of the afternoon.

This is definitely a thing I will be tracking the rest of the season because I have a distinct memory of a future episode where the brothers have been magically gifted completely different lives where they were never Hunters, they know nothing of Hunting, and they’re completely normal until the end when everything gets snapped back and the episode literally changes colors. V. Excited to see just how saturated this season stays through the end.

But maybe more importantly in “The Kids Are Alright” we learn that Dean does NOT, in fact, have a son. Not that he would be a good father...well...maybe? I mean, this Dean, this season 3, definitely-suicidal, completely-reckless, can’t-keep-it-together Dean, is not good Dad material. Later seasons Dean? Probably fine? Earlier seasons Dean might ALSO be fine? And if he’d found out that Ben was his legitimate kid, it could have made a WORLD of difference, who knows. I know he ultimately does become father-like to Ben and that gives me a lot of feelings. But this Dean is not in a good place to take care of anyone, including himself and really, someone ought to do something about that.

I gotta say, this is an actual bummer. I can’t remember if, in the later seasons, they do any clarifying on this or not, but I am legitimately bummed that Ben is not Dean’s kid and that as far as we know, Dean has no natural children floating around out there with surly attitudes and soft hearts. Dean’s motivation from Day 1 has always been family and despite what comments he may make in early seasons, Dean’s secret desire is to have the wife and the kids and the dog and the white picket fence. And honestly, we’re only 3 seasons in and I just want Dean to have nice things!!

And then guys, we come to “Bad Day at Black Rock,” and I just...WHAT a masterpiece. I had almost NO memory of ever watching this episode before and I don't understand why. What a glorious masterpiece this episode is. Let’s make a list -

More Hunters™, who should be really annoying but were actually kinda charming in a Marx Brothers kind of way

Gordon’s in jail, where he belongs, but also is masterminding a coup against the Winchesters which is A+ spooky stuff

Slapstick comedy that I didn’t know I was missing from my life

Bela F*cking Talbot

Guys, I think this is my fav episode so far purely because I felt, while watching it, that the last 10 years of my life were not in vain and that I had in fact grown as a human person. I remembered hating Bela Talbot. Like, I DID. NOT. LIKE. HER. To the point that I questioned if her British accent was even real. It is, her mother is from the UK and she lived there for a time, but like, honestly, the audacity of Little Me.

This time around? Oh she’s defs my new fav. Just everything about her is like, A+, Great Job, Why-Did-We-Cancel-Her??? Like, oh yeah, probably because somewhere in here they try to shoehorn a romantic side plot with Dean. I don’t actually mind rioting over shoehorned romance, but also, if they’d let this play out for a season or two and then got the two of them to bone? I’m on board. I’m 100% on board.

Maybe it’s just that she is unapologetically out for herself, maybe it’s the fact that she is definitely a match for the Winchesters in a non-murdery way, probably it is both of those things. She's smart, she’s crooked, she has impeccable taste, she’s honestly a helluva lot of fun and I am so excited to see more of her and so BUMMED that she will not make it past this season.

Despite the fact that I absolutely adore all three of these episodes, they also bring up the problem that I was starting to see in season 2 - WHO is this show about? Isn’t it supposed to be about the Brothers as a whole? But the majority of these first three lean pretty heavily on Dean’s emotional arc. Granted, it makes sense. I mean, of COURSE Dean’s demon deal is gonna be the BIG thing in a season where he is literally staring down the barrel, but knowing that there’s a side plot about Is Sam Evil?? seems like...something we should really explore more? I believe it comes up in season 4, or at least, Sam’s demon-blood powers become a bigger deal in season 4, but I would have enjoyed seeing Sam have a more active stake in this season. I can see planting some weird new ticks being planted for Alive-Again Sam that just get weirder and darker and then a mid-season finale or a run up episode to the end of the season where Dean (finally) decides he needs to stop his demon deal because he needs to stick around so he can keep Sam from going completely off the rails. As much as I love Dean 5ever, I do think the show works best when the emotional weight of the season is distributed equally is all. And to be fair to the writers this season, there could have been a bigger plan for something like that but they ran out of time - their season was cut by about a third due to the Writer’s Strike.

Still, all in all, a solid opening to the third season. I want to say that these episodes feel like Classic SPN, but then I remember that this is season three out of fifteen. These ARE Classic SPN. Mostly self contained with enough emotional drama to remind us of the overarching plot. Maybe a little heavy on the emotional drama, but Dean’s only got a year to live and the show’s only got 16 episodes to resolve that crisis, so it’s fine.

[elvendara]

MM Fluff Week 2020 day 4

Day 4: Accomplishments  ♡  Mysme Friendships

For @mmfluffweek

This one seemed a bit clunky, but IDK, hope you like it anyway!

Yoosung straightened his yellow bowtie yet again and ran fingers through his hair. He went back and forth on whether he should wear his hair clips. In the end, he put them on, after all, Saeran liked them and that’s all that mattered. They were silver with small diamond stars on them. A gift from the twins on his last birthday. Saeran had designed them and helped Saeyoung craft them. If he was honest, they were probably his most prized possession. Taking a deep breath and one final look at himself he nodded and walked out.

This was his only suit, but it had held up well. The sleeves might be a bit small now, he must have grown some, but otherwise fit properly. It was a deep blue that Saeran liked on him, which was a big plus. He was excited and a bit nervous, but he supposed tonight was probably not much different than an RFA party where there would be some wealthy and famous guests. Of course, Yoosung never actually had to mingle with those guests. His duties were more the backstage variety.

He stepped out of his apartment building to a waiting limo. The chauffeur nodded to him as he opened the door.

“Thank you.” Yoosung said.

“My pleasure sir.” The man closed the door as Yoosung settled onto the seat. He’d been in limos before, while accompanying Jumin, but never had one all to himself. It felt silly and wasteful, but Saeran had insisted. It took about fifteen minutes to get to their next destination. The chauffeur once more opened the door, this time to let Saeran in. The man looked stunning, taking Yoosung’s breath away. His red hair was slicked back, his mint colored eyes noticeably not hiding behind the fringe. The black eyeliner was expertly applied, as always, and his studded choker was around his neck. He wore a red Tshirt under a black coat, black jeans and his biker boots. How long since he’d dressed that way? Yoosung had to resist an urge to reach over and ruffle his hair.

Yoosung scooted over to make room for the man next to him, which he took. He turned to him and grinned, green eyes gleaming, but a little terrified as well.

“You look amazing.” He said.

“So do you, I’m glad you decided for this look.” Yoosung admired his boyfriend.

“Uh, yeah…not sure how it will go over though.” Saeran swallowed. Yoosung reached for his hand, it was sweaty.

“Nervous?”

“Shit yeah!” Saeran answered honestly. Yoosung laughed and lay his head on the other man’s shoulder.

“Don’t be, it’s going to be incredible, you’ll see.”

“I…I’m just afraid I’ll let everyone down.”

“You won’t.”

“I wish I could be as confident as you.”

“You don’t have to be, all of us are cheering you on, and even if nobody else likes it, we all love it!” Yoosung turned Searan’s face towards him and kissed him lightly. This was Saeran’s night and he was going to do everything in his power to make it a great one.

Saeran smiled, the tension in his body eased and he reached for the hair clips in Yoosung’s blonde hair. “You wore them.”

“Of course! They’re my lucky charm!” he giggled.

“I’m glad. And grateful for you, being here with me. I can’t imagine having done this by myself without you by my side.”

“You just needed a little push is all.”

“I don’t know. The man I used to be…well…”

“But that wasn’t the real you, it just took you a while to realize who you really are, without all that…uh…”

“It’s OK. I know you’re right. And I know that it will probably be a lifelong journey for me. But I hope you stay by my side.”

“Always.” They exchanged several more kisses before the limo stopped once more. When the door opened, Saeran stepped out into a few lightbulb flashes. He held out his hand for Yoosung, who took it eagerly. There was some media and some onlookers who looked more confused than anything, wondering if they were celebrities of some sort. His amethyst eyes blinked at the crowd, but Saeran only had eyes for him, placing his arm around his waist and leading them inside the art gallery.

The rest of the RFA was already inside, Jaehee and MC in stunning gowns fit for the Oscars. Jumin and Zen both handsome in their tails, Jumin in black, Zen in white, making an ethereal pair. Saeyoung on the other hand, wore a white buttoned long sleeved dress shirt with his regular black and orange hoodie, his hair in it’s usual disarray. Yoosung simply shook his head.

“Little bro! Making the fashionable entrance huh?” Saeyoung hugged him, and the others followed after. Saeran looked a bit awkward and uncomfortable but he handled it well.

“Mr. Choi. I’m so pleased you have arrived, there are several people who have been asking for you. May I take you from your friends?” The woman wore a black cocktail dress, her dark hair in a high tight ponytail, her grey eyes alert and determined.

“Uh…” Saeran stuttered.

“It’s OK, I think we’ll manage.” Yoosung shooed him away. Saeran nodded and let the woman lead him away like a trapped animal.

“He seems to barely be holding on.” Zen laughed sipping from his champagne goblet.

“Give him time, he’ll grow into it. V never much cared for the personal attention either.” Jumin said.

“But V used his charm effectively, I’m not sure Saeran has that same ability.” Jaehee said.

“No, but I think this really has helped him come out of his shell a bit more with other people. Although, I think he enjoys taking photographs because it allows him hide behind the camera.” Yoosung answered.

“Yep, but now he can’t!” Saeyoung laughed. “Can you believe my little brother has his own gallery showing? Not to mention all that social media blowing up over his photos! He’s going to be bigger than V ever was!”

“And I wonder who made that happen.” MC arched her eyebrow at her husband.

“Is it wrong of me to promote my little bro?” Saeyoung asked offended.

“No, but it might be to do it by hacking.” Zen laughed.

“Is that so? Hmm, remind me again, who reblogged onto all his own social media sites?” Saeyoung said.

Zen looked away without answering.

“It was something I never thought I would see, Zen posting something that wasn’t his face or body.” Jumin smirked. Zen slapped his arm but Jumin only laughed and pulled the man close, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“He did take some photos of me as well! I was only trying to help him.” Zen pouted.

“Absolutely my love.” Jumin nodded and went silent.

Yoosung was barely paying any attention as his eyes were on Saeran. In the last few years he’d come leaps and bounds from the man he used to be. There was still that hard shell, but once inside, there was a soft gooey center that was still so very fragile and vulnerable. He cherished the man, the good and the bad, and he was overwhelmingly happy that things were looking up for him. The photos he took were stunning. You couldn’t help but feel something when you saw them. Saeyoung was right, V was incredible, but there was a different perspective to the way Saeran saw the world. The truth of it. That while there was great beauty, there was also great sorrow.

After an hour Saeran finally made his way back to Yoosung.

“Can we go now?” he whispered in desperation.

“No, you promised you’d stay at least until ten.” Yoosung answered.

“What time is it now?”

“Just after nine.”

“Ugh…”

“Come on, why don’t you take me on a tour?”

“You’ve already seen them all.”

“Yes, but, I’d love to hear your perspective on them, you know, explain it to me as if I’ve never seen it before. Besides, it will give you an excuse to stay with me and ignore all these people.” Yoosung grinned.

“True!” Saeran’s eyes lit up. “OK, let’s start over there.” He took Yoosung’s hand and headed towards the center of the gallery. Yoosung didn’t move. “What?”

“I’m so proud of you Saeran.” Yoosung said, eyes glittering with happiness.

Saeran blushed and looked away, but there was a small smile playing around his lips. “You don’t have to say that.” He mumbled.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. And I am, so very proud. And happy to be here with you. What you’ve done in incredible Saeran. You should be proud of yourself too.”

Saeran sighed and pulled the man closer. Yoosung was sure now, he had definitely grown, he was almost eye to eye with Saeran, if he hadn’t been wearing those biker boots, he might even be taller than the red head now. They embraced and kissed. Flashes exploded around them, but they were oblivious.

[snowdice]

Study Fic Chapter Names

Hi everyone. I want to have chapter names for the current study fic and I have some ideas I want your opinions on for when I’m editing them. I’ll put chapters 1-3 under the cut so you can see them easier. Feel free to suggest any other names for the chapters! I’m not at all decided.

I decided to name the fic Folds in Paper (for reasons yet to be made clear).

Chapter 1: 

Burnt Rubber Poptarts (Because Janus saying how he can’t even tell the difference between the burnt rubber and other flavored poptarts really brought home his current mental state.)

Chapter 2:

Paper Faces on Parade (Line from Masquerade from the Phantom of the Opera. Wouldn’t work well with the Eye of Gold chapter 3 title because they’re both from the same song)

Green Light (Green lighting the mission as well as Janus saying he had ‘all green’ which we’ll talk about in chapter 4, but basically means he’s had no incidents unlike the yellow, red, and black designations. Also alludes to the green light in Great Gatsby which symbolizes Gatsby’s love for the unattainable Daisy.)

Chapter 3:

Eye of gold; thigh of blue. True is false; who is who? (Line from Masquerade from the Phantom of the Opera.)

It’s a lopazoo. (Line from The Charleston. There isn’t really a strict definition for ‘lopazoo,’ but you can kind of get the vibe just from reading it.)

Our dance is surely a comer (Line from The Chareston except “our” replaces “that.” Comer means a person or thing likely to succeed.)

Chapter 1

The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d sat there staring at this report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.

 Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”

“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily.

Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and yeah, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe it was worth his money. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.

 He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended three hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.

“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.

“I’ll do it,” Remus said. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”

“You what?” Janus asked.

 ”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”

“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “Your lucky I haven’t reported you already.”

“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”

Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”

“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”

 Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.

He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.

“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’

 Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.

His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and into one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop tart popped out of the table.

 He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber pop tarts Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.

The 2510s were an odd set of years.

 He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.

 No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.

 As soon as he finished the poptart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.

 He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.

“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.

A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.

 Chapter 2

The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another poptart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.

Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.

 The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.

Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.

 A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.

Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.

 It was a fairly low stakes mission. He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.

Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.

 This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.

“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”

“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”

 “But-”

“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.

“May I come in?” Janus asked.

“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.

“Yes ma’am.”

She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”

“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.

“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.

“All green.”

“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”

“No.”

She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.

 The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slide copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out missing, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.

As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.

 She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. Your set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”

“How much-?” Remus started.

“None, agent,” Rhi said.

“But-”

“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”

“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.

She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”

 “I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”

“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”

“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”

“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”

“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.

 “If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.

“Kinky.”

Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.

They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.

 Janus’s own mask on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.

Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.

After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.

Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.

 Chapter 3

Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”

“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.

Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”

 Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”

Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”

“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”

“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.

 Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.

The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.

 He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”

Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.

“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”

Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.

 Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.

There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.

 The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked.

The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”

“Dove?” Janus asked.

He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”

 “My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.

“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”

“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”

The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”

“Hello Pat,” Janus said.

“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.

 Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”

“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.

“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”

“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”

 He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”

Janus inclined his head.

“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”

He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.

 Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.

When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.

He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.

 He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”

“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.

Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.

Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.

Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”

 “You did?”

“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”

“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.

“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”

“And how do you help him.”

He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”

“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”

“You do look the type?”

“And how is that?”

   Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.

He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.

 “I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”

“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”

Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.

“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.

“Don’t,” warned Janus.

“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.

“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”

 “I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.

Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.

 He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.

“What?” Janus said.

Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.

[maximum118]

Sitcom

Yang: Oh something that isn’t RTS. Wait am I here alone?

Yin: nope. 

Yang: Oh it’s my twin

Yin: You should stop fucking a psychopath. 

Yang: BITCH YOUR GIRL IS A PSYCHOPATH

Yin: At least we’re in a healthy relationship

Yang: Points at him* You sir have a good point.

Yin: smiles* I know I do. 

Yang: Fucker.

Yin: I only fuck Zen-OH SHIT! *Runs*

Kouten: COME ‘ERE PRETTY BOIIIIIII *Chases Yin*

Yang: . . .What in the world did I see?

Episode 3- Karens and obession pt 1.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

              A few weeks after, the siblings moved into the penthouse together. They all finally had a week off. So, Haruki asked if they could go to the mall, and all the emo chickens couldn't resist, so they all decided to go. Sai goes with Haruki, Kouten goes on his own, Zen, Hato, and Satori go together, then Riku and Heisu go together. Let's check on them, shall we? 

           ~Saisho~

           Sai waits outside a game stop as Haruki tries to find a new game for his switch. While waiting outside, Sai hears his phone ring, "My anaconda don't, My anaconda don't, My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun" (Mal if you ever see this, I am so sorry.) Sai blushes and picks up quickly.

           "yes, Kaoru?" asks Sai trying to regain his posture. 

            "Hey, You're in the mall, right?" asks Kaoru. 

           Sai arches his eyebrow "Yea? What about it?" Sai asks. Hands cover his eyes. "Guess who?" asks a voice.

           Sai chuckles and hangs up. "Hmm, is it my sufficient other? Or a fan?" asks Sai jokingly. 

           The hands move from his eyes, and Sai looks to see a tanned green-haired person. Sai kisses their cheek. "I see that you're in your male form today, Kaoru." Says Sai. 

           Kaoru smiles. "Yea, I wanted to be a guy today. Besides, I wasn't expecting you to be here." They say. 

           Sai smiles. "Heh, Haruki is too cute for his own good. We all got talked into going the mall." 

           "How's sibling life anyways?" 

           "I didn't expect two pyromaniacs, a spunky child, a good boy, an innocent child, and two anxiety-filled kids."

           "…How are you alive..."

           "I have no idea." 

           "Let's go sit down. Haruki is going to take forever," says Sai as he holds Kaoru's hand, leading them to a bench. After the two talked for a bit, Sai kisses them. Kaoru blushes and looks away. "We're in public, Sai!" they say. 

           A woman walks up to the couple. . Kaoru arches an eyebrow. "Do you need anything??" asks Kaoru. 

           "You are exposing my little boy to homosexuality. Guys shouldn't be with guys. Girls shouldn't be with girls. God didn't make us be like this." 

           Sai blinks at her, Kaoru stares at her. "B-But I'm both genders." Says Kaoru looking down not enjoying the attention they were getting.

           The woman gasps. "Are you forcing this poor man to be with you?!" she asks, shocked. 

           Kaoru shakes their head. "N-No. He's 100% consented to it." They say. The woman looks at Sai. "Is this man forcing you to be with him?!" she asks. 

           Kaoru hears glass break, and they look at Sai, who has a shadow over his eyes "Sai don't…" Kaoru says. 

           Sai stands up. "First off, my sufficient other goes by they/them/their pronouns. NOT he/him or she/her. Second off, I am with them, and I AM with them willingly. Third off, I am pansexual.” Says Sai rather aggressively. 

           "You…assaulted me! Security!" she says, the person looks at her. 

           The woman glares. "Pansexuality isn't a thing!" she argues, then she glances at Kaoru. "Neither is switching genders!" she adds. Kaoru looks down, growling. Sai takes deep breaths.

A tail with multiple hearts (Yellow, dark purple, and green) wraps around her leg and trips her. A blonde with green and purple streaks in a long braid was sitting next to the couple with a crop top with a white heart, a short grey leather jacket, skinny black jeans, and 5in high-heeled boots. The woman looks at the person. 

           "Oh, sorry, Hun. I didn't see you there. The tail acts on its own sometimes." Says the person cheerfully. 

           "NO, IT DIDN'T!" shouts the woman. The person smiles and leans down to her ear "Hun. You shouldn't have said pansexuality isn't a thing, nor is switching genders…" The person's smile disappears. Their pupils become like cat's when light hits their pupils. "I'll remind you, this is a world of quirks. I suggest you leave or somethings you shouldn't harass." Says the person darkly. 

           At that moment, a kid came running crying to the fallen woman. The person gets up and moves out of the way. The woman and the kid ran off shortly after that. Sai and Kaoru look at the person. 

           "thank you…er…" says Kaoru. The person turns to them and smiles. "Mochizuki. Mochizuki Tsukiya." They say, "Oh, and anything for a fellow gender switcher and pansexual." They add on.

           "You can switch bodies too?" asks Kaoru as they go up to Tsukiya. 

           Tsukiya nods. "Yup. Concubus is my quirk. Depending on my partner's sex preference, top or bottom, male or female, etc." they explain.

           Sai looks at Tsukiya. "Thank you. Can we pay you back?" asks Sai. Tsukiya thinks for a bit looks at the couple "…Names and numbers?" they ask.

           Sai smiles. "Saisho and Kaoru. A pleasure to meet you." Says Sai. Kaoru begins to write their number and Sai's number down on a piece of paper. Handing them the paper. 

           "Call us when you can," says Kaoru as Tsukiya's smile shifts into a smirk. "Oh, I will~ See you hotties around~," they say, leaving. 

           Sai looks at Kaoru. "Poly?"

           "Poly. Also, is my ringtone on your phone, Anaconda?" asks Kaoru, eyebrow arched. 

           Sai blushes and sees Haruki. "HEEEEEYYY HARUKI!!" he shouts. 

           Haruki skips over. "Hello!~ whose that?" he asks. 

           "This is my lover. Kaoru. Kaoru meet Haruki…" introduces Sai.

           Kaoru smiles. "Nice to meet-HEY DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT SAI!" they shout, looking to Sai, whistling, looking anywhere but at Kaoru.

           He, Kaoru, and Haruki walk from the game stop to the next shop talking. 

           ~Kouten~ 

           Kouten waits impatiently for his coffee. If he stands here for a while, reporters will notice him quite quickly. He pulls his phone out, reading something when he sees a familiar glow next to him.

           Turning, Kouten notices Inoue Eita. The lavender-eyed, ginger-haired, lantern-tailed male from the café a few weeks back. A smile comes across his face. "You look familiar." He says. 

           Eita looks up and notices Kouten "oh, you're the guy from the café…Todoroki Kouten, right?" 

            "Yup. That's me. The one and only at your service ginger." Says Kouten.

           Eita chuckles. "That's a creative one, redhead." He says. 

           "Heh, thank you. So why are you here at the mall today?" 

           "Spending some cash and relaxing from work." 

           "What do you do?" 

           "Well… it's technically two jobs. One for money and the other is a hobby…" 

           "Which are?'

           " I'm a journalist and occasionally an astrologer. The hobby is fortune teller…people tend to trust me more…" 

           Kouten pales but stays calm. He might be here to interview me. No matter how cute he is, He can't come ne- Oh damn, he has cake. Kouten glances at Eita’s ass and mentally slaps himself Kouten no. do not get distracted. He thinks. He looks at the lightly tanned male.

           "Really? That's interesting. Why do people trust you more than normal?" asks Kouten.

           "Well… I'm a Japanese Romani or what's usually called gypsy…through it's offensive to call Romani that…" 

           "Cool…that explains the tanned skin and the red slash and headband. No wonder your cute." 

           Eita blushes, and the lantern goes bright for a second "Huh?" 

           Kouten realizes, "HUH? What? Sorry, what did I say?" he says. 

           Two drinks are slid next to the "Large Coffee for Todoroki. Large chai tea for Inoue!" says the person. 

           Kouten grabs the coffee. "Huh, they actually said the name this time." He says. Eita holds the chai tea. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Todoroki…"

           Kouten looks at him. "Er…I don't have anywhere to be…Want to hang out until my siblings finish?" he asks. 

           Eita takes a sip from his tea and blushes. "S-sure…" he shutters out.

           Kouten walks to a table as Eita follows. The two sit. Eita looks at Kouten. "What do you do for a living?"

           "Executive Editor is one. The other is modeling. Make a few television appearances here and there." Answers Kouten as he sips from his coffee. 

           "Oh, wow, you must be well known then…" says Eita as he looks to the side. 

           "Eh. Being the former no.2 hero's kid is a big impact too, you know?" 

           Eita almost chokes on his tea. "Huh. What? Like Hawks? Hawks. Is your parent?" 

           "er, yea…why?" 

           Holy Shit…Hotaru wasn't lying. This man is a celebrity…I should back off before rival reporters invade my personal space…thinks Eita as he looks to the side. 

           "Oh… That's…amazing…" says Eita sufficiently quieter.

           Kouten notices and places his coffee down "what's wrong?"

           Eita looks at him. "Why would you want to talk to me?"

           "I have my reasons, Inoue. You sat with me. Plus, you interest me." 

           Eita's tail glows with Eita's initial shock "interest you? I don't want reporters in my face." 

            "I mean, I want to hang out with you more, Inoue. If any reporters came, I would simply say that you're a client for my manager, a fellow editor, or I can simply drag you off. Then they'll possibly leave you alone." 

           "Possibly?!" 

           Kouten stands up. "Yup. Now come on, there could be undercover reporters around." He says and throws his coffee cup away. Eita follows him. "Where are we going?" asks Eita.

           "I heard there was a dog place around here. Where you can play with puppies, I want to possibly adopt one or two." 

           "That's a, you thing…Why do I have to join you?" asks Eita throwing his tea away. 

           "It's awkward to go alone. You don't look busy either." 

           Eita sweatdrops. "Am I your lacky now? I don't want to see dogs." 

           Kouten smiles, then drag him into a store with many cribs with plastic walls inside with at least three different breeds of dogs. "Want to rethink that, Inoue?" he asks. 

           "…Oh my god their so cute." Says Eita as he looks into a crib where three puppies roughhouse. 

           "Rethought it? Adorable, aren't they?" asks Kouten. 

           Eita smiles. "Very…" he looks at a puppy moving away from the roughhousing of the other two. A worker comes over. "Hello. Do you want to play with a puppy?" she asks. 

           "Oh…we don't-"

           Kouten points to the puppy moved from the roughhousing "Can we check that one out?".

           The worker picks the puppy up and begins to lead the duo to one of the pens. 

           "…Why did you do that?" Asks Eita looking at Kouten. 

           "You looked like you wanted to play with it." 

           Eita looks down. "Was it that obvious?" 

           The lady lets them in and puts the puppy in a pen. The puppy runs up to the both of them. The worker smiles "She's a Papillon puppy. Very energetic. You two enjoy playing with her!" says the worker leaves.

           Eita looks down at the puppy and picks her up. The puppy begins licking Eita's face evoking giggles. "Awww, stop it! That tickles!"

           "Can I hold her now?" asks Kouten. Eita hands her over to him. The puppy yips and licks Kouten's Face. 

           The duo was having a good time when a woman stomps into the store. The woman walks up to the pen where the pair was. 

           "Uh, excuse me, that dog is mine." She says. 

           Eita looks at her. "But she's in the store??" he asks. 

           "Duh. Because I want it." Says the woman.

           Kouten hands the puppy to Eita. "Well, too bad I'm adopting her." Says Kouten.

           The woman looks at him and Eita, then she gasps, "Eee! Your Todoroki Kouten! Why are you hanging with a nobody slut?" Asks the woman. 

           Eita winces at that, petting the puppy; looking down, he hands the puppy to Kouten. "Here, Todoroki…" he gives the puppy to Kouten. He then proceeds to leave the pen. 

           "Hey! Inoue! Where are you going?" asks Kouten.

           Eita goes to the front desk and fills the paperwork up. Then proceeds to "accidentally" whack the woman with his lantern tail. "home." Answers Eita leaving the store. 

           The woman rubs the back of her head. "Ack! Slut! Anyways~ Are you seeing Anyone?~" she says. 

           Kouten glares at her "Bitch please, you look like a stripper. No way in hell would I go out with you." He says, glaring at her, "The one I currently wanted to know better is gone because of you." He adds, compressing the urge to kill her.

           The woman gasps, "you're a homosexual?!" She says then she pretends to puke. 

           Kouten glares at her. "I'm bisexual." He says. He then leaves the pen and gives the puppy to a worker. "W-Wait, sir!" Says the woman. 

           Kouten leaves the store and looks for the tan ginger. Who seemingly disappeared, the worker runs up to him with the puppy. 

           "Thought you put her back?" asks Kouten, confused.

           The worker smiles. "Why would I? Your friend adopted her for you. Paid and everything." Explains the worker. 

           "How…? My information is with me." 

           The worker shows the paperwork and his information. "Guess he stole your information when he left." She says. 

           Kouten takes his information back and his newly adopted puppy. Kouten smiles softly. "Guess I'll have to get some things and give you name," he says. 

           Waving farewell to the store, Kouten makes his way to a pet supplies store. The puppy in a kennel was given to him. 

           Meanwhile~ 

           Eita walks over to Hotaru, sipping tea. Hotaru arches an eyebrow. "The fuck you been?" he asks. 

           "I was dragged to a dog store," answers Eita as he sits next to him. 

           Hotaru laughs "really?" He asks.

           Eita doesn't respond and notices pale blonde hair and teal eyes, blonde hair and red wings, white hair and wings walking into a store.

            "Isn't that your…fuck buddy?" asks Eita. Hotaru smiles. "Ah. Hato? He can do what he wants for now. I have another fuck toy." 

           Eita glares at him, disappointed look "You can't just throw people away like toys." Says Eita disappointed. 

           Hotaru glares at him "that's rich coming from a guy who ditched his birth name." he says. Eita freezes. "I thought we wouldn't talk about this…" 

           "Well, we are now, aren't we bitch." Says Hotaru.

           Eita stands up. "I'm leaving." He says, "I will tell cops that you're the one killing people…" 

           "H-Hiroshi! K-Kouten! I-I won't tell! I promise! Please just…come back…" Says Eita. Hotaru pats his shoulder, and the darkness goes away. Eita immediately looks at his tail then looks up to Hotaru with tears in his lavender eyes. 

           Hotaru walks behind Eita, touching his shoulder. His smile widens. "You forget Eita. Unlike a good amount of people I torment, I know your fear." He says, snapping his fingers. The two were enclosed in a dark area the same size as where they are, creating the illusion that no one was there.

         Eita's eyes shrunk. He quickly moves his tail to his chest. His tail, though, isn't giving off the glow and dims. Then it goes out completely. Eita began hyperventilating, falling onto his knees, tears running rapidly down his cheeks. Please no! I-I don't want to die!!! Please! Give me a light source! Now! I want to be alive! I-I don't want to be alone! He thinks

           People look at the duo, and Hotaru smiles, helping Eita up. People go back to what they're doing. Leading Eita out of the mall, Hotaru thinks back to what name came out of his adoptive elder brother's mouth.

           "…K-Kouten!" Hotaru growls Why do these…chickens…keep getting into my family and business? First, Hato… a pretty little thing. Nice Lil fuck toy too. Then that blue-winged one…Librarian if I remember correctly. Insecure but didn't want me anywhere near Hato along with his boyfriend. Don't get me started on the pale blonde chick. She's crazy same with her boyfriend….

           Once outside the mall and into the car, now…this! Eita is befriending the what 2nd oldest? No. I won't…allow it.  I CAN'T ALLOW IT. I… won't lose Anyone…not again. Thinks Hotaru looking to Eita whose curled up in a ball.

           Hotaru rests his head on the wheel. I can't lose to these…these…emochickens! He looks up, changing his purple eyes to slits I WON'T ALLOW IT. If I fucking have to… I'll kill them…

They 

Won't 

Win

Saisho/Sai belongs to  @ulti-mal

Kouten belongs to @hairuko

Hato belongs to @juniperarts

Satori belongs to @fioresacros

Haruki belongs to @/_falyy on twitter

Riku & Hotaru to @diizaren

[webdesignadvice]

How to Pick Colors in Your Web and Logo Design.

Choosing your Logo and Website Colors

Updated: 6 days ago

Determining a Website Design is challenging and often times can be daunting, but it doesn't have to be.  One of the greatest challenges people come to us with daily is how to make their website vision a successful match to their product.  Simply getting started can be one of the greatest hurdles to overcome  If you are in a highly professional industry such as Real Estate or Accounting, puppies and unicorns on your site won't sell your professionalism.  Conversely, if you are providing services for a child's birthday party, black and white buildings and dry landscapes in your design can deter many customers.

When deciding on a color scheme for your site or your logo, you should know that it's a science, not just opinion based.  Corporations have spent Billions in market research to find out what colors are going to drive the most traffic for their specific industries.  I'm not saying that it is true 100% of the time in every industry, but we would be silly to ignore the data and not at least consider using it to determine the designs of our businesses.  Here is a list of some specific colors and a general assessment of what they are used for.

Red:  We all know that Red means STOP, but did you know that red can actually raise your blood pressure, make you hungry, and is also the color of passion.  Red is used as a primary color in many fast food chains.  Seeing the red can make you hungry, and make you want to act on that NOW!  It creates a feeling of urgency and a feeling of loss if you don't act.  That's why it is commonly used in 'call to action' buttons in advertising.  This may make you wonder why it isn't used by everyone in marketing or in their websites.  If you are a Dentist, you don't want people's blood pressure rising when they think about your services.  The same rule applies to Yoga Studios and barbers.  There is a time and place for everything and you want to make sure you are portraying an accurate depiction of your industry through your color choices.  

Orange and Yellow:  I have to be honest...  In most cases, I am not a fan.  While yellow and orange can both be used to express optimism or calmness, they can also be risky, especially when they aren't used with another color that offsets them.  Yellow has been shown to make babies nauseous and both orange and yellow can give off a sense of urgency or even danger.  Many warning and work signs will be orange, and blaze orange says don't shoot me if you are a hunter.   With that in mind, there are many hunting products and companies that will use orange in COMBINATION with green to represent Safety to hunters and also a bold sense of urgency for their products.  Yellow can be tricky too.  While it can represent a smooth transition or a calmness, it can also represent a warning like a yellow light or a yield sign.  To repeat an example, many Yoga studios will show a yellow in conjunction with other colors  so that they can give off a feeling of Calm.  When using orange or yellow, it is important to combine it with another color that will accent them and help guide their meaning in the way you have planned.

Purple:  Purple is one of my all time favorites!  It represents royalty, respect, wisdom, power, and $$.  Purple is both masculine and feminine and gives a feeling of rising above without being too pretentious.  This color is perfect for anything dealing with spirituality, consistency, or dependability.  One of my favorite examples of this is FedEx.  FedEx uses many different colors in combination with their Purple to distinguish which department you are looking at, but their Purple stays consistent across the board.  It reminds you that FedEx is king no matter which department you are working with and the purple offsets any unwanted emotion you may get from the other color schemes.

Blue:  Blue is preferred more by men than women, but across the board it represents communication, trust, stability, and consistency.  We see the blue sky everyday.  Many businesses have chosen Blue as their color to imply an ever present dependability such as American Express.  This color is wonderful for people dealing with other people's money or livelihoods.  A perfect example would be Accountants, Tax Preparers, Landlords, and Stock Brokers.  It portrays trust.  Blue is also the number one color used in Social Media.  It portrays solid communication and a friend who is always there. Ergo... Facebook!

Green:  Green is associated with health, nature, beginnings, growth and strength.  If you are a health or nature based industry and you don't use green in your website, logo and marketing materials, you are ignoring everything that the psychology of color tells us.  The term "Go Green" has been used for decades now signifying that you are doing something to help the environment. and the word "green" has meant brand new in most careers for at least my entire lifetime.  This is a no brainer and an easy choice for any health, nature, or fresh start industry.

Grayscale:  Gray gives off a feeling of timelessness, and dependability.  Our grandparents are old and wise.  But Gray can also be boring and uninspiring when overused.  Many companies go with a Grayscale theme to represent timelessness, endlessness or impact.  Subway uses white to show endless possibilities.  Chanel uses almost entire gray scale in their marketing materials and website content to represent authority, power and timelessness.  In many cases grayscale can be used to express  an emphatic representations when used in combinations with other colors.  No one who sees it will ever forget the little girl in "Schindler's List."

Once you have the basic colors of your Logo picked out, you should design your site to reflect the colors of y our logo.  From that point on it is a game of content.  What do you need in your site?...  Keep it as simple as possible for most industries, and make sure that it is easy to navigate.  The Homepage should draw you in with a theme and encourage your clients and prospects to continue on through your website on a journey that you are providing for them.  Videos are always a plus.  Social Media feeds are helpful as well.  Ultimately, no one should know your industry better than you, so make sure you have a good line of communication between you and your web designer so that they can accurately put your vision into action online,

[simplysnexual]

Got inspired by @doctor492 ‘s SCP!au with Erasermic! I don’t often post my stories so have mercy! I took some creative liberties with their abilities and such. I’m also not terribly educated when it comes to all the SCP lore. 

Excerpts from a guard’s journal.

Day 1

My first day in this sector of the facility. There are 4 keter class anomalies in this sector. Two of which I am in charge of dealing with. These two are kinda...humanoid in appearance but I have yet to see more than quick glances. Training is extensive in this sector as one wrong move either means death or worse: the escape of a dangerous creature. Training has mostly been computerized and kinda boring. Can't wait to get to the hands on stuff. 

Day 5

Finally onto some interesting stuff. I’ve had my first encounter with the SCP nicknamed Eraserhead. He...well I suppose it, though it does have a masculine body type. Plus its kinda weird calling such a humanoid creature an it so I’ll just say him. Anyway, he is a shadowy figure that appears to be made of an ever shifting inky mass. He has bright, misty yellow “eyes.” These eye-like features could be something else entirely their own but appear to act like eyes, blinking and fixating on whatever his attention is on. White cloth-like ribbons float around him constantly like thin snakes writhing in the air. Wispy outlines that look like hair also frame his head and face. I don't know much else about Eraserhead but I’m excited to learn more.

Day 7

First encounter with the “Voice Demon.” Yet another humanoid anomaly, this one more so than Eraserhead. The Voice Demon appears to be a 6’1” white male with long blonde hair. The most jaring and notably inhuman feature is its mouth. A wide maw stretches past the normal stretch of a human mouth, wrapping around all the way to its ears. Its, well I’d called this one a he too. He has lacerations around his throat that appear to have been stitched up and plucked at only to be stitched again. I don’t know for sure but I believe those injuries were inflicted by the Foundation…

Day 10

Something rather interesting happened today. On my usual rounds to check on the anomalies, I discovered Eraserhead standing at the plexi glass window of his containment unit. Mirroring him on the other side of the hall was the “Voice Demon.” The demon’s spirling green eyes seemed softer than his usual jaring glare. As could be said for Eraserhead. But shortly after they noticed my presence, they went back to the darker corners of their units. 

Day 12

I’ve finally found out more about my two favorite SCPs. Turns out Eraserhead has the ability to not only control the writhing ribbons around him, but can also erase one function of the human body, such as the respiratory system or cardiac system. Pretty scary stuff right? A few guards have fallen to this creature’s abilities. I guess I have to be wary not to piss him off huh? As for the Voice Demon, his name is very fitting. His voice can reach beyond 177 decibels, a range passing which is dangerous to humans. This level of sound can burst cells in your lungs, shake your bones and even cause long term damage to your joints. I believe the facility tried to sever his vocal chords but found that not to be the source of his ability. I’ve yet to hear (hehe) of his ability being used or how they keep him from using it. 

Day 16

First incident on my shift, A fellow guard wasn’t being so careful around Eraserhead’s unit. There's an existing rule that you don’t stick around the plexi glass viewing window of his unit. Apparently this guy forgot or didn’t listen to the warning. Dude’s respiratory system shut down and I found him after hearing his gasping wheezes. The SCP medical team took him away. I’m not sure where to but I have a feeling it wasn’t to a hospital…

Day 18

Caught my favorite two charges interacting across the hall again. I hid around the corner to see what they did away from prying eyes. They seemed to be making gestures to each other and after a bit I noticed the Voice Demon fogging up the glass with his breath and drawing things, cats and flowers and the like. Eraserhead’s yellow slits of eyes squinted like how mine do when I smile. Strange...but endearing. Humanizing almost... 

Day 21

Found out what the Voice Demon’s smile looks like...Seems I made him laugh, not sure I can call it that but I’m guessing it was a laugh. I tripped on my idiot coworkers spilled coffee and kissed the floor. Once the Voice Demon made his laugh like noise, I turned to him and saw his lips had curved up and his eyes squinted. Eraserhead matched his squinting. I couldn’t help but smile myself...heh I guess I’m just as strange huh? Smiling at the strange and deadly creatures I guard from the world everyday. But hey it’s the little things that remind you of your humanity when you’re stuck in sterile white hallways all the time.

Day 25

A few guards went into Voice Demon’s unit to try to draw blood or something. Most came out with bleeding ears. Two came out in body bags after a gas filled the room to incapacitate the creature. I’m beginning to doubt the Foundation’s care for its employees…

Day 26

After reviewing the security footage of yesterday’s incident, I noticed the shifting form and writhing ribbons of Eraserhead had increased in their violent motion. His inky, ever-moving form had gone rough around the edges and his ribbons whipped as if in a tornado. Almost like...he was upset?  Angered that his neighbor, maybe even his friend was hurt?

Day 31 

Eraserhead and the Voice Demon are definitely friends of some sort. Yes I know I’m not supposed to humanize the anomalies but I can’t help myself. Their interactions continue and grow in complexity and frequency. It's kinda endearing to be honest. I don’t see much friendly interaction in this place. I feel just as trapped as they do sometimes…

Day 40

My first interaction with the Voice Demon. Guess I pissed off the facility or something cuz they sent me in ALONE to try to draw blood. I’d pretty much accepted my death sentence the second the doors closed behind me. But to my surprise the creature looked at me...curiously? I knelt down to try to seem less threatening and spoke to him like I would a scared child, like my siblings when they hid from a storm. Across the hall I caught a glimpse of Eraserhead’s form shifting violently again. I sat cross legged for a while, slowly trying to coax him over. I couldn’t believe it when the creature approached me and extended his arm for me. I held his wrist like I had when my little sister scraped her elbow. I spoke softly like I had to her as I took the Voice Demons blood, totally unaware of why but fixated on the sentience in his eyes. 

Day 45

The facility sent me into Eraserhead’s unit after my success with the Voice Demon. They didn’t send me for blood, I don’t even know if he has blood?? I think they sent me in for the hell of it, to watch a keter class at work or see what this one did with a human actually in his unit not just outside his window. Turns out, not much. The creature merely stared me down before shifting away and turning his back on me. Without anything really interesting happening for a good while, the high ups let me back out. I’m just as much contained as they are these days. I haven’t been allowed to leave since the interaction with the Voice Demon. But I can’t find it in myself to regret it.

Day 50

I don’t trust this place anymore. The staggering number of guards lost in a month is beyond what could be just “accidents.” The measures they go to “contain” these creatures they label monsters are beyond what’s right. Nearly worse than what the creatures do themselves. A place which considers beating what I could nearly call a person into submission just doesn’t seem right.

Day 51

I treated the Voice demon’s wounds today. He seemed sedated as I worked with him as gently as I could. I talked softly to him, about nothing in general but just to give him some comfort, something to focus on. My heart nearly stopped when I heard his voice. It was only a soft. “Thank you.”. His voice was soft but raspy from lack of use. I met his gaze and that’s when I made my decision. I’m getting them out of here. Him and Eraserhead. After all, what use is it freeing a lone creature to face the world outside without a friend?

Day 55

This Foundation is run by idiots. All this secretive crap covers up their incompetence. But this plan isn’t going to go through without sacrifice. It’s worth it. Without my family around to need me anymore I’m happy to die for a good reason. I’ve faced death before just for this stupid Foundation’s fun. Tomorrow during shift change I’m cutting the power on the sector where Eraserhead and the Voice Demon reside. It’ll be just long enough for the locks to fail and let them escape. I hope they get far away from this hell hole and pathe their way in the outside world. And maybe….just maybe, remember me fondly.

This was the last entry written in the young man’s journal. SCP guard Scarleton lay dying in the glistening blood pooling around him. The red flashing of alarms briefly illuminating the hall in intervals. His dying sight was the Voice Demon’s toxic green eyes spilling over with tears as he grasped the only guard, hell the only human to treat him like anything other than a monster. One more little smile found the man’s lips as he showed his blood stained teeth, eyes sliding closed. “Go on….be free.” He let out a wet laugh and went still. A shifting black form took the arm of the green eyed creature and drug him away to follow through on the guard’s dying words.