#this is very sloppy. alas i am very tired

[fire-fist-ann]

not so sneaky kisses under the mistletoe

If there was one thing Nami hated, The parties were too loud. There are too many sloppy drunks. The only thing she liked about them, however, was that it was so easy to steal wallets from drunk men and women alike. And no one would even bat an eye, but this party was different; she had been forced to go by Luffy. She originally told him no every day leading up to the party, but alas, he of course just had to use the puppy dog trick on her. 

So here she was stuck in the crossing, her arms crossed, nursing a holiday cocktail that Sanji insisted on making to help her lighten up. Nami just wanted it to end, but she just knew she would be stuck here in the early hours of the morning. After all, all of Luffy’s parties lasted for hours,  sometimes days. 

Her brown eyes caught a flicker of something blue in the corner of her eye. Her face grew flushed. What was Luffy thinking about inviting her crush Vivi here? Was he trying to kill her out of sheer embarrassment? They had met over two years ago in college. Both Nami and her were in the same history class about alabasta history. And they very quickly became friends. After all, they were always together. If one went looking for Nami, they would find her and Vivi, usually in the library or across campus at the diner owned by one of the professors and run by the students. Well, they had been close friends up until the Halloween party Luffy had invited them to. Everyone had been telling Nami to just confess to Vivi that she wasn't going to wait forever for her, or even worse, she could get tired of waiting on Nami and give up. 

So Nami had done just that when they were playing seven minutes of heaven. Nami was so nervous to go with her, but not only did she confess to her. Vivi did not respond to it, so Nami left the party and hasn't spoken to her since. It made classes and projects really awkward between them. Vivi, of course, had kept trying to talk to her, but Nami just wasn't having it. 

Nami nearly groaned when she spotted the blue-haired vixen start walking toward her. Nami had nowhere to run, mostly because she was so fast. Nami jolted when Vivi grabbed her hand. "Just hear me out if you still don't like what I say. I won’t push the issue anymore, okay?” She said her voice was as sweet as honey. 

Nami let out a heavy sigh once upon a time, feeling that her touch would have sent little sparks down her spine; it would have just felt so right. "Fine, I'll listen. What do you want to say to me, Vivi?” Nami decided to play along with what she was playing at. 

"First, I am sorry about Halloween, and second, you misunderstood what happened, Nami." 

"Misunderstood what? You led me on all this time only to reject me when I poured my heart out for you to not say a single thing????” Nami couldn't help but snap back, fighting back the tears again. 

"That's not what happened at all; I didn't lead you on, Nami." 

"Yes, you did; you were always going on dates with me. If you didn't feel that way toward me, why do that to me? Why did you toy with me? Was it fun for you?” 

"Do you really think so low of me? Nami, I would never do that to you, but you didn't give me enough time to respond before you ran out of that closet. Nami stiffened up; her shoulders could not stop trembling. Had she been too quick to misjudge her?. At the time when Vivi didn't answer her, all she could feel was betrayed and hurt. Much too hurt to even what she said. Vivi wasn't like her; she was the light itself in her life. Sure, she had her friends and family, but no one made her feel like Vivi made her feel. 

Vivi moved her hands, grabbing Nami by the face, her thumb brushing the tears pooling at the edge of her eyes and staring at her brown iris.

"For someone so smart, you're so stupid; you know that, right?” Vivi said it in a whisper. They were surrounded by people, but all she could see was Nami and how upset she had made her; it was killing her on the inside. She had to make this right for her.

"Explain then,” Nami said, biting her lower lip. 

"I froze because I didn't actually think you would like me back; I wasn't even sure if you liked girls—well,  girls like me at least,” she admitted to her with a bashful flush of her cheeks. 

Nami felt her eyes widen in surprise, and wait, did she hear her correctly? Vivi liked her back. She was worried about her reaction???. Nami could only gawk and stare at her in absolute and utter shock. Well, she at the very least had her undivided attention, that was for sure. Nami could feel the words die at the tip of her tongue before she forced them out. "Are you serious, Vivi? Please don't mess with me right now." Nami whispered out, "Of course I'm serious. I have wanted to ask you out for months. I was actually going to ask you out after the Halloween party, but due to everything, it didn't happen,” Vivi said in a whisper back to her before she rested her forehead against her forehead. Nami moved her own hands, resting them on Vivi’s shoulders. "I wish you had said that earlier; now I feel like such a bitch for no reason." Nami mumbled under her breath,It-s-" was as far as Vivi got out, only to hear Luffy’s voice: : "He you two have to kiss; that’s the rule. Sanji and Robin both said so! ” 

The girls jolted.H-huh?!” they exclaimed, looking over at the boy in utter confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that???” He said, tilting his head,

"What are you talking about, Luffy??!!” Nami said, blinking slowly, trying to piece together whatever puzzle this was. 

“ You're under the mistletoe, duh, you're supposed to kiss, right?!, right, Sanji!” 

"He's right, it's tradition that if you're caught under the mistletoe, you have to kiss. Oh, how I envy them." He said with hearts in his eyes, only to be elbowed right in the gut by Robin. Franky leaned over Robin’s shoulder. "Hey, that mistletoe, wasn't there a few minutes ago?” He whispered into her ear. 

Robin took a sip out of her glass of wine as she looked up at him. "That's because it wasn't; what they don’t know won't hurt them." 

"Ah, that’s my girl,” Franky said, leaning down and giving Robin a kiss on the check while he watched the showdown continue. 

Nami and Vivi both stared at everyone. Nami moved her hand, covering her face, while with her other hand, she was shooing everyone away. "Luffy, there's a bunch of meat I think I saw across the room!" she said. Which worked like a charm before the sentence had even left her mouth. All the way, he was sprinting full force to the party platter table. The others took the hit, thankfully, and started to walk away. Franky and Robin went back to watch the party. Sanji went back to help usopp keep the food stocked and mostly to keep Luffy from eating all of the food again. Nami, after a moment, turned to Vivi, "So, uhm... I mean, are we okay now?” She stammered out, "Well, that depends. Do you accept my apology, Nami?” 

"Yeah, I do, but does this mean you accept my confession?” Nami asked in a timid tone, which really wasn't like the orange-haired girl, but Vivi always made this shy side of her come out in more ways than one. Vivi leaned down so their noses were brushing against each other. "Can I kiss you, Nami?" 

Nami jolted. What happened to what they were talking about???? "Yeah, you can kiss me, but you'll have to pay me if it’s bad." She teased the blue-haired girl in front of her. 

Vivi lifted her hand, cupping her cheek back up. She had moved her hands when they had been so rudely interrupted. Her pink glossy lips brushed over Nami’s red-stained ones. She could taste the sweet strawberry gloss Nami had put over her red lips; it tasted sweet just like her. She would have thought Nami would try to find something orange-scented for her lips, but she liked it either way. 

Kissing Nami just felt so right; in that very moment, no one was around them; it was only them. Vivi couldn't hear the loud laughter and yelling of the party. She could not feel the music through the air or in her veins. All she felt at this very moment was secure, as she felt Nami’s arms wrap around her waist as Vivi put her own arms around her neck, pulling her close against her body in a tight embrace, just holding each other like they were the only two people in the entire world. The two of them finally pulled from the kiss after what felt like hours and lifetimes but was merely a matter of seconds. “ well do I need to pay you for that kiss, Nami?” “ I haven't decided Maybe you should kiss me again so I know for sure” Vivi burst out laughing “ Your such a tease aren't you “ Nami rolled her eyes “ so I have been so told but.. You know you never answered my question still , Will you go out with me vivi? W-we can take it as slow as we want or go as fast as you want” Nami couldn't help but to start rambling again as she was looking right back at her again in those eyes full of stars that Nami could get lost in. "Earth to Nami?” Vivi said, waving her hand in front of her face, trying to convey her attention. "Huh?Nami asked, looking around confused, "You were spacing off; was I boring you? You didn't even get to hear my answer, you know? After you ignored me for a few weeks, at least let me tell you my answer,” she said gently. 

Nami nodded her head eagerly. "I would love to go out with you. I've always wanted to go ice skating; we don’t have that in my home. I think it would be fun, and maybe I could take you to my home and show you some of the museums." 

Nami wanted to snort, "You're such a history nerd, you know that, right? Even on a date, you want to be in a palace of  history." 

"Of course I do. I think you're forgetting history class is where we met in the first place, so you're just as big of a history nerd as I am." She teased her back. Nami couldn't help but feel delighted; everything was falling into place. Vivi liked her back and had agreed to go on a date with her. She even told her she wanted to go out with her. But she couldn't help but feel so stupid for creating such a big issue when there didn't need to be one. 

"I'm really sorry, Vivi, for how I treated you; that wasn't right of me. Are you sure you still want to go out with someone like me?” 

"Of course I do. There’s nothing you could possibly do that would ever change that, Nami. I love you; I have since the day I met you. Now what do you say we stop being antisocial and join the party?” Nami felt a small smile creep it’s way on her lips “ This is one of the things I like about you , you always make me feel so much calmer when talking to you, I really missed this you know but your right we should join the party besides someone has to stop Luffy from trying to fight His brothers right now”

[spade-of-hearts]

Not so sneaky kisses under the mistoetoe

If there was one thing Nami hated, The parties were too loud. There are too many sloppy drunks. The only thing she liked about them, however, was that it was so easy to steal wallets from drunk men and women alike. And no one would even bat an eye, but this party was different; she had been forced to go by Luffy. She originally told him no every day leading up to the party, but alas, he of course just had to use the puppy dog trick on her. 

So here she was stuck in the crossing, her arms crossed, nursing a holiday cocktail that Sanji insisted on making to help her lighten up. Nami just wanted it to end, but she just knew she would be stuck here in the early hours of the morning. After all, all of Luffy’s parties lasted for hours,  sometimes days. 

Her brown eyes caught a flicker of something blue in the corner of her eye. Her face grew flushed. What was Luffy thinking about inviting her crush Vivi here? Was he trying to kill her out of sheer embarrassment? They had met over two years ago in college. Both Nami and her were in the same history class about alabasta history. And they very quickly became friends. After all, they were always together. If one went looking for Nami, they would find her and Vivi, usually in the library or across campus at the diner owned by one of the professors and run by the students. Well, they had been close friends up until the Halloween party Luffy had invited them to. Everyone had been telling Nami to just confess to Vivi that she wasn't going to wait forever for her, or even worse, she could get tired of waiting on Nami and give up. 

So Nami had done just that when they were playing seven minutes of heaven. Nami was so nervous to go with her, but not only did she confess to her. Vivi did not respond to it, so Nami left the party and hasn't spoken to her since. It made classes and projects really awkward between them. Vivi, of course, had kept trying to talk to her, but Nami just wasn't having it. 

Nami nearly groaned when she spotted the blue-haired vixen start walking toward her. Nami had nowhere to run, mostly because she was so fast. Nami jolted when Vivi grabbed her hand. "Just hear me out if you still don't like what I say. I won’t push the issue anymore, okay?” She said her voice was as sweet as honey. 

Nami let out a heavy sigh once upon a time, feeling that her touch would have sent little sparks down her spine; it would have just felt so right. "Fine, I'll listen. What do you want to say to me, Vivi?” Nami decided to play along with what she was playing at. 

"First, I am sorry about Halloween, and second, you misunderstood what happened, Nami." 

"Misunderstood what? You led me on all this time only to reject me when I poured my heart out for you to not say a single thing????” Nami couldn't help but snap back, fighting back the tears again. 

"That's not what happened at all; I didn't lead you on, Nami." 

"Yes, you did; you were always going on dates with me. If you didn't feel that way toward me, why do that to me? Why did you toy with me? Was it fun for you?” 

"Do you really think so low of me? Nami, I would never do that to you, but you didn't give me enough time to respond before you ran out of that closet. Nami stiffened up; her shoulders could not stop trembling. Had she been too quick to misjudge her?. At the time when Vivi didn't answer her, all she could feel was betrayed and hurt. Much too hurt to even what she said. Vivi wasn't like her; she was the light itself in her life. Sure, she had her friends and family, but no one made her feel like Vivi made her feel. 

Vivi moved her hands, grabbing Nami by the face, her thumb brushing the tears pooling at the edge of her eyes and staring at her brown iris.

"For someone so smart, you're so stupid; you know that, right?” Vivi said it in a whisper. They were surrounded by people, but all she could see was Nami and how upset she had made her; it was killing her on the inside. She had to make this right for her.

"Explain then,” Nami said, biting her lower lip. 

"I froze because I didn't actually think you would like me back; I wasn't even sure if you liked girls—well,  girls like me at least,” she admitted to her with a bashful flush of her cheeks. 

Nami felt her eyes widen in surprise, and wait, did she hear her correctly? Vivi liked her back. She was worried about her reaction???. Nami could only gawk and stare at her in absolute and utter shock. Well, she at the very least had her undivided attention, that was for sure. Nami could feel the words die at the tip of her tongue before she forced them out. "Are you serious, Vivi? Please don't mess with me right now." Nami whispered out, "Of course I'm serious. I have wanted to ask you out for months. I was actually going to ask you out after the Halloween party, but due to everything, it didn't happen,” Vivi said in a whisper back to her before she rested her forehead against her forehead. Nami moved her own hands, resting them on Vivi’s shoulders. "I wish you had said that earlier; now I feel like such a bitch for no reason." Nami mumbled under her breath,It-s-" was as far as Vivi got out, only to hear Luffy’s voice: : "He you two have to kiss; that’s the rule. Sanji and Robin both said so! ” 

The girls jolted.H-huh?!” they exclaimed, looking over at the boy in utter confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that???” He said, tilting his head,

"What are you talking about, Luffy??!!” Nami said, blinking slowly, trying to piece together whatever puzzle this was. 

“ You're under the mistletoe, duh, you're supposed to kiss, right?!, right, Sanji!” 

"He's right, it's tradition that if you're caught under the mistletoe, you have to kiss. Oh, how I envy them." He said with hearts in his eyes, only to be elbowed right in the gut by Robin. Franky leaned over Robin’s shoulder. "Hey, that mistletoe, wasn't there a few minutes ago?” He whispered into her ear. 

Robin took a sip out of her glass of wine as she looked up at him. "That's because it wasn't; what they don’t know won't hurt them." 

"Ah, that’s my girl,” Franky said, leaning down and giving Robin a kiss on the check while he watched the showdown continue. 

Nami and Vivi both stared at everyone. Nami moved her hand, covering her face, while with her other hand, she was shooing everyone away. "Luffy, there's a bunch of meat I think I saw across the room!" she said. Which worked like a charm before the sentence had even left her mouth. All the way, he was sprinting full force to the party platter table. The others took the hit, thankfully, and started to walk away. Franky and Robin went back to watch the party. Sanji went back to help usopp keep the food stocked and mostly to keep Luffy from eating all of the food again. Nami, after a moment, turned to Vivi, "So, uhm... I mean, are we okay now?” She stammered out, "Well, that depends. Do you accept my apology, Nami?” 

"Yeah, I do, but does this mean you accept my confession?” Nami asked in a timid tone, which really wasn't like the orange-haired girl, but Vivi always made this shy side of her come out in more ways than one. Vivi leaned down so their noses were brushing against each other. "Can I kiss you, Nami?" 

Nami jolted. What happened to what they were talking about???? "Yeah, you can kiss me, but you'll have to pay me if it’s bad." She teased the blue-haired girl in front of her. 

Vivi lifted her hand, cupping her cheek back up. She had moved her hands when they had been so rudely interrupted. Her pink glossy lips brushed over Nami’s red-stained ones. She could taste the sweet strawberry gloss Nami had put over her red lips; it tasted sweet just like her. She would have thought Nami would try to find something orange-scented for her lips, but she liked it either way. 

Kissing Nami just felt so right; in that very moment, no one was around them; it was only them. Vivi couldn't hear the loud laughter and yelling of the party. She could not feel the music through the air or in her veins. All she felt at this very moment was secure, as she felt Nami’s arms wrap around her waist as Vivi put her own arms around her neck, pulling her close against her body in a tight embrace, just holding each other like they were the only two people in the entire world. The two of them finally pulled from the kiss after what felt like hours and lifetimes but was merely a matter of seconds. “ well do I need to pay you for that kiss, Nami?” “ I haven't decided Maybe you should kiss me again so I know for sure” Vivi burst out laughing “ Your such a tease aren't you “ Nami rolled her eyes “ so I have been so told but.. You know you never answered my question still , Will you go out with me vivi? W-we can take it as slow as we want or go as fast as you want” Nami couldn't help but to start rambling again as she was looking right back at her again in those eyes full of stars that Nami could get lost in. "Earth to Nami?” Vivi said, waving her hand in front of her face, trying to convey her attention. "Huh?Nami asked, looking around confused, "You were spacing off; was I boring you? You didn't even get to hear my answer, you know? After you ignored me for a few weeks, at least let me tell you my answer,” she said gently. 

Nami nodded her head eagerly. "I would love to go out with you. I've always wanted to go ice skating; we don’t have that in my home. I think it would be fun, and maybe I could take you to my home and show you some of the museums." 

Nami wanted to snort, "You're such a history nerd, you know that, right? Even on a date, you want to be in a palace of  history." 

"Of course I do. I think you're forgetting history class is where we met in the first place, so you're just as big of a history nerd as I am." She teased her back. Nami couldn't help but feel delighted; everything was falling into place. Vivi liked her back and had agreed to go on a date with her. She even told her she wanted to go out with her. But she couldn't help but feel so stupid for creating such a big issue when there didn't need to be one. 

"I'm really sorry, Vivi, for how I treated you; that wasn't right of me. Are you sure you still want to go out with someone like me?” 

"Of course I do. There’s nothing you could possibly do that would ever change that, Nami. I love you; I have since the day I met you. Now what do you say we stop being antisocial and join the party?” Nami felt a small smile creep it’s way on her lips “ This is one of the things I like about you , you always make me feel so much calmer when talking to you, I really missed this you know but your right we should join the party besides someone has to stop Luffy from trying to fight His brothers right now”

[theblackvelvetcollective]

Musings from the Black Velveteen: Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion *are* Important

by the Black Velveteen

Picture it. Summer of 2000. I was a young fourth grader eager and excited to travel with my parents and my baby sister to Myrtle Beach. Living in landlocked Tennessee, going to the beach was truly an adventure! “Don’t touch the jellyfish even if they’re on the sand” I remember my daddy telling me. Sure, daddy I like to look at jellyfish more anyway. Besides, I had other plans. My momma had taken my sister and I to the Dollar Tree a week prior to our trip and told us we could grab whatever beach toys we wanted. For context, my sister and I had just learned how to swim so we were more than prepared to get the toys we wanted! Now, I am a solution oriented individual. I enjoy planning things out especially if I have made up my mind about them. So, of course, I made sure my sister knew that we were going to take full advantage of our time on the sandy Myrtle beach. We grabbed every single sandcastle building tool we could find and made sure our momma knew we needed them all. Thankfully, they were a dollar so convincing our momma that we needed them all was easy. As I stood on the beach in my little one piece swimsuit next to my sister in her matching one piece swimsuit: the true work was about to begin.

My sister and I wanted to build not just any sandcastle, but the bougie version. You know: the sandcastle with a moat. If you’re unfamiliar with a moat, it is a water filled ditch that surrounds castles allowing for only one way in and one way out and that was via a draw bridge that connected the other side of the moat to the castle. I am a person who likes to work smart, not hard. So I suggested that we build our castle first, then build our moat, then fill it with water. Simple enough plan that I shared with my parents just to make sure it wouldn’t be too difficult. They said the plan was a good one and so my sister and I began to work. We built a two and a half foot sand castle with designated wings and structures that we even named after some family members. My sister dug and dug and dug the moat. I helped, but she wanted a very deep moat: I was so proud of her hard work. Now for the cherry on top: water to fill the moat.

To help you visualize: my family was positioned about 500 feet from the ocean so my sister and I had to take our pales designated for “only moat water” to the shoreline, let the waves fill the buckets to the brim, then carry the water we could back and pour it into the moat we (she) dug. So we did our first run! We were so excited we knew we’d need a couple of trips to fill our moat but that was easy. We came back to our lovely sandcastle, stood on opposite sides of the moat and began to pour. Our jubilant smiles and bouncing legs soon turned to furrowed brows of confusion and stillness of disappointment.

We watched as the water levels kept going down until our moat was dry as a bone. My sister and I looked at each other confused and ran right back to the ocean. “Maybe there just needed to be a quick wetting of the sand. This next run we’ll see the water settle and rise!” But alas, it never did. We spent well over an hour going back and forth from the ocean to our beloved sandcastle only to be further frustrated and annoyed that our moat was not coming forth. On one run we looked over and saw some other kids, close to the shoreline, had created an (average and sloppy) sandcastle equipped with a fully functioning moat. They even had a little sail boat in the moat. My sister felt jaded and I was furious. How could this be happening? We had a plan. Our parents said it was a great one! We built a sandcastle of our own design that we were proud of. So why didn’t we have our moat? My sister, exhausted from running on sand in the hot sun, gave up. I kept putting water in until it was time for us to go back to our room. I was tired, but most of all I felt defeated. Not until a decade later did I learn that my parents had a conversation between themselves that they knew we couldn’t build a moat, but by not telling us it would keep us safe and continually in their sight and they would know where we are. As an adult: it totally makes sense, but as a nine year old I couldn’t understand why my efforts were not successful.

I remember that feeling of exhaustion and defeat. Working an entire day at the beach and finding out later my efforts were futile and in vain; also that my parents had withheld information from my sister and myself, albeit for our safety, but it kept us from reaching our goal of building a sandcastle that was for us, by us. This familiar feeling arose within me again as I continue to trudge through demanding equity, diversity, and inclusion at my workplace. By attending the Strategies to Build Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion: Leadership and Policies webinar, I learned why DEI work is so important and that in order for it to truly function within an organization, empowerment and trust are key. Those in power must be willing to share that power. Management cannot simply say that they are doing “good race equity work” when internally there is a lack of trust and no indication that equity, diversity, and inclusion are prioritized. When Black women, femmes, and gems are verbally berated in the office over a simple task and there is absolutely no accountability or consequences for the harm caused: then there is no trust. When women of color have to be put through a test just for their white supervisor to trust them because they didn’t trust the last employee in that position, shows that there is no competency on how imbalanced power dynamics can be harmful. When white women in power are allowed to be bigoted and the president of the organization is complicit in that behavior, that does not show a commitment to protecting those most marginalized in the workplace. It shows that power is settled at the top and those at the top are comfortable with keeping and protecting that power, rather than sharing.

By constantly working marginalized workers under stressful conditions of white supremacy, white feminism, bigotry, and classism: the moat is kept from being filled. However, if those in power were willing to share their power (or the marginalized seize the power, whichever comes first), a restructuring that is beneficial for all starts to occur. Systems of accountability that actually include consequences, starts to build trust between the marginalized and those with power. The empowerment to make decisions increases support and bolsters the community building that starts within an organization. By dismantling the hierarchical structure that marginalizes and harms BIPOC, we see an organization that can prosper. So, when building a sandcastle with a moat, try to find a compromise that shares power with the powerless and emboldens those who are committed to put forth their best effort. Move closer to the sea so you can fill your moat.

[xay2jang]

pov u used some random kid as a hostage in beika and it really did not turn out well for you

[illfoandillfie]

Impersonal

As promised, here’s the smutty followup to yesterday’s blurb! This is the fifth post of seven in my Platonically themed event. Again, it’s not really been edited because it’s late and I’m very tired but alas, thats how it goes. 

Words: 2,278

Warning: some vague dom/sub dynamic stuff with a more dom Ben, spanking, it’s P in V sex but theres a lot of talk about butts. Also they’re still dorks. 

It had been a nice day. You and Ben had gone out with a few friends, just a little picnic in the park to catch up with everyone. If you’d been at all worried about publicly being together on a no romo day, then it was for nothing. As much as everyone there considered you and Ben to be an item, it mostly went ignored, aside from a couple of questions about how you’d gone living together so far. But having such a big lunch, everyone having brought something to share, neither of you were especially hungry at dinner time. Ben whipped up a pot of butted noodles for you to pick at as you watched TV but it was soon set aside as you shifted to lean against the arm rest with your legs stretched out to lay over Ben’s thighs. Each of you were engrossed in your phones more than the quiz show he’d flicked on, occasionally sharing something you saw or read.  

You had opened tumblr and were scrolling through your dash, pausing to read longer bits here and there but mostly just liking images and reblogging memes. Until you hit a patch of not safe for work content. One of the porn blogs you’d long since forgotten you’d followed had hit a rare patch of activity, every second post one of theirs. Those posts you paid a little more attention to, especially when videos and explicit images were involved since you knew they were likely to be taken down soon and you didn’t want to miss out on seeing something hot. Unfortunately your headphones were in another room so you weren’t game to turn the sound on for any of the videos but the visuals and erotic comments below were enough to make you feel as if the room as heated up. You could feel yourself getting wetter at each new post but couldn’t seem to stop looking at them.  

A particularly good video of a sloppy blowjob made you clench your thighs together, your foot rubbing against Ben’s thigh as a result. His palm came to rest on the top of your foot, rubbing it soothingly, though his attention was still elsewhere. In fact, his gaze didn’t shift until a little later when you were looking at a very hot gifset of a woman on all fours, crying as she was pounded from behind. He cleared his throat. You jolted a little at the sound and tried not to look too guilty as you met his eye.   “You okay?” “Mmhmm,” His eyes travelled over you from the lip between your teeth to your tightly pressed thighs and your fingers wrapped firmly around the phone.   “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, clearly meaning to do exactly that, “but ummmm, are you watching porn right now?” “No,” you answered too quickly. “Hey, you don’t have to hide it if you are, go nuts. I’m just a little curious about what’s turned you on so much you’re practically panting. And can I help?” “I’m not watching anything. It’s just some gifs I saw.” “Well I think QPR law states you have to show me or you’d be a big meanie.” You chuckled and handed the phone to Ben, a little curious about how he’d react.   Ben watched the gifs through a couple of times before nodding, “Yeah, that’s uhhh, that’s pretty hot,” he rubbed your foot again as he kept watching the looped footage. “Are you turned on?” “Yeah, a bit,” “Hmmm, same.” “Should we-” “Do you wanna-” You spoke at the same time and then both laughed a little as you simultaneously agreed, “Yeah.” Immediately you swung your legs around intending to walk towards the bedroom and Ben followed for about two steps before he stopped suddenly, “Wait. This is a no romo day, right? Do you still feel anti-romance?” “Yes and yeah I think so. Why?” Ben shrugged, “I don’t think we’ve ever had sex on a no romo day so...how does it work?” “Oh, good point. Well.” you wanted to keep it brief, already worked up and wanting to move to the fun part, “I think it’s probably best if we keep it on kind of the rougher side, a little impersonal even. Could you maybe hit it from behind? I’m not really sure eye contact and all that stuff would be as fun for me right now.” “No need to ask twice. My hot partner wants me to look at her gorgeous arse while I fuck her? Yeah definitely into that.” “Jesus I’d forgotten you’re an arse man.” It was true too. As much as Ben might prefer ass to tits he also enjoyed the visual stimulation of watching you – seeing the pleasure on your face, watching your body react to his. So, while doggy style was a regular position for you, variations of missionary and cowgirl were probably a little more frequent. Which was wonderful, except not what you needed right then. Ben responded by poking his tongue out you but he seemed quite as eager to move things along, “So rough doggy then? Can I spank you?” “You’d be into that?” He shrugged, “I know we haven’t really done anything kinky yet but yeah, I enjoy spanking. I mean...watching an arse jiggle after it’s hit is incredibly hot.” You giggled, “spanking is very okay then. You could be a little mean too if you wanted, maybe calling me a degrading name to get at that impersonal thing. Slut maybe.” He hummed uncertainly, “I can try it if you really want but I gotta admit I’m not as into degrading stuff as I am spanking.” “It’s fine if you don’t, whatever works. Honestly, I’m already super horny so just do whatever you’re comfortable with and don’t get too gentle or loving with it, and I’ll be happy.” “I can definitely do rough for you. For instance,” You gasped as Ben grasped your hips and turned you around, positioning you in front of the arm of the couch before he pushed you to bend over it. It was a surprise considering Ben’s typical nature. He had his controlling or domineering moments but generally seemed happiest when he was showering you in affection or letting you take charge. Adding to the surprise was the way he tugged your pants down to your knees and began to touch you through your underwear. It made you squirm, trying to find a little more friction, but he only gave you a quick spank. Not overly hard but it didn’t have to be to make you feel tingly. Just knowing Ben was capable of an action like that was hot enough. All the same he pulled your knickers down too and ran his fingers through your folds.   “Wow, okay. You meant it when you said you were horny. Pretty wet already.” “No shit Sherlock. You know I don’t need lines like that that get you interested in fucking me.” He gave you another slap for your insolence.   “Better get you stretched out then, hadn’t we?” You felt two of Ben’s fingers rest against your entrance and expected to feel them sink into you too. But it didn’t happen.   “What’s the hold up, Tiger? Ow,” the spank had been a little harder than the last.   “If you want them so bad, do it yourself.” Your breath caught as you realised what he meant and you shifted your hips back, levering yourself against the arm of the couch, until you felt his fingers penetrate you.   “That’s it Kitten. You’re too horny to wait, aren’t you? God you’ve got such a pretty arse. Giving me the best view right now. Your needy cunt soaking my fingers while your arse,” he hit you again, “jiggles. It’s making me so hard.” You whined, unable to find a better response, and rocked back against his fingers, slowly fucking yourself on them.   He let you go on like that for a little while, happy to listen to your hitched breaths and needy sighs as you got a little of what you needed. But then he pulled his fingers from you. You let out a disappointed whimper, “Ben, c’mon,” “I’m so hard from watching you be so desperate. Just gotta get my pants off. But you can play with yourself for me, can’t you?” You nodded and shifted so you could drop your fingers to your pussy. Ben gave your arse another slap, “Not what I meant Kitten. Play with your arse.” Startled by the low growl in his voice you quickly complied, leaning on the couch as your brought both hands up to grab your arse cheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart to better show off your holes.” “That’s very good, Kitten. Spank yourself.” It wasn’t the same as when Ben spanked you since you knew what was coming and the position didn’t allow you to get as much force into your hits as he could. But it was definitely arousing and it definitely seemed to work for Ben. You’d barely registered the sound of his pants dropping before he was sliding into your wet and waiting cunt.   “I can take it from here,” Ben’s hands replaced yours, groping your arse as you dropped your arms back to the couch, though you felt it was useless to try and prop yourself up on them. It would only be a matter of time before you collapsed entirely.  

At first he kept the pace slower, letting you adjust to him, though each thrust was forceful, just as you’d asked it to be. But gradually Ben sped up, hands still playing with your cheeks, sometimes grabbing and sometimes spanking them. He tried to say more about how hot it was to take you like that but his own breath was escaping him as the words seemed to be. So he let his body talk for him as he pounded your cunt and dug his fingers into your flesh.   And then he pulled out.   You were on the verge of asking him who the fuck he thought he was when he said, “one second. Just want to try something.” and then, remembering he was meant to be acting mean, added, “And you just want me to keep fucking you, so you’re not going to complain.” In a disgruntled daze you let Ben help you up onto the back of the couch so that one leg was bent to lean against the arm he’d just had you bent over and the other dangled towards the floor. It took a little more adjustment before Ben was happy. First pulling you back towards him and the corner of the couch, and then pressing you to lean forward so your hips were raised and he could better access your pussy. You had to grab onto the back of the couch for support, digging your fingertips into the leather as Ben resumed fucking you.   The angle had changed a little and the position was slightly more awkward to maintain but it was worth it for the way your clit rubbed against the smooth leather, leaving a trail of wetness behind. Each thrust rocked your hips in such a way that you quickly found yourself getting close to release.

That, however, seemed to be Ben’s plan as he began telling you how good you were going to make him feel when he made you cum. “I know you’re close Kitten. So just cum. I want to feel your cunt on me when you do.” He lay another few spanks to your arse cheeks and that tipped you over into your orgasm.   But Ben didn’t stop.   “I th-think you can do bett-er than that,” he grit out as you clenched around him and he seemed to thrust twice as hard as he had before, “You were so,”   You grunted as he plowed into you. “So desperate before. So you can cum better than that. Right kitten?” You nodded and gasped out a, “Yes” as your arms shook with how hard Ben was fucking you.   But he didn’t relent. He kept going until he felt you tighten again and heard you moan, nearly sobbing as relief flooded your system.   That seemed to be enough for Ben and he let himself go too, holding your hip tightly as he pressed deep into you.  

Ben leaned his forehead against your back as he tried to regain his regular breathing rate and gave you a quick kiss there before he righted himself and helped you to dismount the couch. The evidence of your orgasms was still smeared across the leather but neither of you paid it any attention.   “Sorry I never called you a slut or anything,” Ben said with a slightly self-conscious chuckle, avoiding your eye as he hitched his pants back into place. “I just like Kitten better.” “Don’t be,” you said mirroring his actions to looking at him, “Kitten worked perfectly. Also, that was really good. Maybe you could be rough and mean more often?” “The double orgasm was a pretty good indication that it worked for you,” “Of shut up, I was being serious. It was really hot.” “Yes but I like teasing you, remember,” “Prick.” “That hurts,” he said with a fake gasp and a hand against his chest, “Keep talking like that and I’ll have to spank you again,” “Ha ha, very funny. Tease me all you want but we both you enjoyed it as much as I did.” “Maybe I did.” he conceded, “but I wasn’t going to hate it when I was watching your arse.” “Alright, you perv. Was there any leftover noodles? Bit peckish now.” “Yeah, in the fridge. Grab me some too would you?”

[mojaves]

1, 2, 3, 7, 18 and 25 for sebastian my utmost beloved,,,,,

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

he doesn't but he Does have a big cushion that he sleeps with bc he needs Something to hug while he sleeps or he will go insane. or just. not sleep very well. he had an actual person to hug once but ALAS!!! DIVORCE!!!! very funny but also not at all. im so sorry king.

he doesnt have many plushies, but he definitely needs more bc i think they would fix him. he's got like... 2 little rat plushies from when he was younger and theyre kind of falling apart but he refuses to fix them. for the Authenticity. also bc it would take away the charm and they remind him of his siblings, so if anything happened to them he'd be in complete and utter shambles

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

he could NOT look after a plant or a child he does Not have the time. he couldnt bring them with him to work. he barely spends time at home. but he DOES have a cat that goes everywhere with him. and bc the cat is there, well. he can easily feed the guy whenever. he is almost always asleep on seb's lap. or climbing up his arms. frankie stromboli my most favourite little menace.

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

AURHGFDHghh he can barely talk about his own feelings. you expect him to be able to talk about his feelings about someone else?? i'm doing it for him. i'm taking the thoughts out of his brain. prettyboy. most specialest tired little guy that he loves so much. when you and a guy try killing each other so many times and Fail. each and every time. and then you end up holding hands??? true love baybey. the trust is there. theres so much about it that i could scream about. im going to throw up. this is incoherent. i am aware. there is just. so much going on in my brain about that. aguhhgh [explodes]

7. already answered and i could say more but i shan't. it would be an essay. im already vibrating too much

18. Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

he is beyond touch starved of Course he is going to go absolutely ham sloppy style. he's allowed. do what you will with this information.

25. Safety or possibility?

SAFETY 100% everything needs to be accounted for at all times. a backup plan for every backup plan. he can't stray away from that. bc his life is always on the line so he can't take any chances. No Fun Allowed. but,, he eventually starts to loosen up a bit. he needs to live a little. send the mf to a theme park. put him on a rollercoaster. Please.

[ukiyoexo]

reconcile. — ljn

reconcile implies the demonstration of the underlying compatibility of things that seem to be incompatible.

nct dream — lee jeno x reader

synopsis — when your best friend invites your ex to the birthday party you never even wanted, you’re forced to face the feelings you had been trying so hard to bury deep.

info — fluff, angst, smut (blowjob, some suggestive stuff), bad boy!jeno, exes to lovers, 2.8k words

warnings — swearing, drinking, smoking, blowjob, lowkey some deepthroating

masterlist

The air was thick with the stench of sweat. Warm, sticky bodies squeezed into one room, dancing - if that’s what you would call it - to whatever songs were in the charts, most of them being completely new to you.

You didn’t like parties, you never had. Something about being in a mosh pit of drunk teenagers never quite appealing to you.

Alas, it was your 18th birthday and your best friend, Jaemin, seemed to not take the word no as an answer. Before you had even known it, he had convinced your parents, made a guest list and told you “you have to!” one to many times. A part of you wanted to be annoyed at him; the other part didn’t mind, seeing the rest of your friends have fun satisfied you enough. 

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

You took another sip of alcohol. The strong liqueur burning the back of your throat, but you didn’t mind, you needed all the liquid courage you could get if you were to talk to half these strangers. Another swig of alcohol glided down your throat, your eyes tracing the crowd through the kitchen door.

“Nice party.” There was a chuckle next to you, a large hand suddenly finding its way onto your lap. You flinch in response, unfortunately hitting your head on the cabinet behind you, causing another chuckle from the unknown body beside you “you’re not very graceful, are you?“

You nod silently in response, finally lifting your head up to find the muscular build of Jeno leaning against the kitchen countertop, a smile blossomed on his lips. One which was not matched on yours as you looked down in dismay at the hand still on your thigh.

“Why are you here?” You huffed at the boy, sliding off the kitchen counter, tone cold and unforgiving.

“You’re the one who invited me.” He shrugged back, his face dropping slightly when you informed him it was Jaemin - not you - before gaining composure once again. A small smile flashing across his face to cover up the red tints of awkwardness on his cheeks.

“Are we done here then?” Your arms folded across your chest, eyes glowering at the boy as your tongue poked at the inside of your cheek, anything to help give the impression of a cold front.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your hand gripped your best friends arm, dragging him into the hallway so when you yelled he would at least know it wasn’t so you could be heard over the music. “Well, I was dancing but-” “Jaemin-” You warned. “Why is he here?” Jaemin only rolls his eyes in response, taking a deep inhale before looking back at you, a serious expression on his face that you had only seen a couple times during your seven year friendship with him. “Because you need to get over him- or talk things out with him- or god even hook up with him if that’s what will help-” “But I am over h-” You attempted to argue, only to be cut off by your friend. “No you’re not. Look I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it was, you need to let go of it now. I love you y/n and even if you say you’re fine, I can see you’re hurting.” His hand cups your cheek and you nod into it. He was right, god you hated how right he was. “I’ll work it out.” You give him a solemn smile and his hand eventually slips from your skin, moving back to his side. “Thank you,” the smile you loved so much finally returns to his face, his pink cheeks rounding, “now let’s go enjoy this fucking party whilst we can.”

And that’s what you did for the next hour or so. You danced with more people than you actually knew, you drank more types of alcohol than you knew existed and you had more fun than you had in what felt like a long time. But when you find yourself getting just a bit too sweaty for your liking and go out to get some fresh air, your high comes crashing down quickly.

Jeno is leant against the brick wall of your house, puffs of smoke from his mouth creating white clouds in the crisp air. His leather jacket fits him in all the right places and somehow makes him look so damn good despite only wearing a simple white tshirt and pair of black jeans with it. You hate that he looks good, you hate that he can still captivate you and that you most definitely aren’t the only girl who’s been caught under his spell.

“Earth to y/n?” A hand passes through your vision and you’re brought from your train of thought and back into reality, a soft chuckle emptying from Jeno’s mouth. “I-” “Good, you’re alive. I thought I’d lost you for a second.” He continues and your bottom lip catches between your teeth, your head shaking when he holds out the packet of cigarettes for you. “Ah, I forgot you didn’t smoke anymore,” his slides the packaging back into his jean pocket, a bitter smile on his face, “that was just another one of my bad influences right?” You don’t want to nod but you don’t need to, you know it’s true and so does he; it was just one of the many.

Silence seems to quickly swallow the world around you, the ink black sky seeping into the cold air until it feels like it’s only you and Jeno left on earth. Words swell in your throat, all the things you want to say to him, all the things you never got to say to him. There’s so many things to tell him yet nothing comes out, any words stolen by the frosty air, never to be found again.

The figure beside you stirs in place and you know Jeno wants to speak - but unlike you, he’s brave enough to do so.

“What happened to us?” The words finally empty from his mouth, the answer so complicated yet he says the questions so casually. “I tell you I love you and you vanish- I- I thought you-” “I did.” You pick your body up from against the brick as you twist to look at him, his eyes watching the stars above instead. You did. You did love him. God, you still did.

“Then- then what happened?” His gaze finally meets yours, lost and confused as if the one home he had ever found was in you and just as soon as he had finally felt safe, it had being pulled from ibeneath. In some ways you guessed that wasn’t wrong. “Was it me? The bike and the drugs? The deals? Or- or my friends? I- I can stop. I can change. I would change for you.” And the way he says it is so sincere and so raw that you hate yourself for ever doubting what you meant to Jeno.

Maybe it’s the anxiety or even the liquid courage pumping through your veins, maybe the look in his eyes, or maybe you’ve finally come to your senses. Whatever it is, you can’t take it anymore, your lips pulled towards Jeno’s. Your mouths interlocking as if they were perfectly sculpted for each, carved to fit like two puzzle pieces. Each movement of your lips matches Jeno’s and it’s simple bliss, the connection only breaking when you pull away for air, “Please, don’t ever change.”

Jeno wraps his arms around your waist, planting a sweet peck in the tip of your nose, “Whatever you want angel.” And you can’t help roll your eyes at him, giggles bubbling in your chest that are soon echoed by Jeno.

When your eyes connect back with his, you can see they’re tired but the stars are still there. Slightly duller than they used to be but still just as persistent.

Your lips are drawn back to his like a magnet and once again, your connected with him but in a more heated kiss this time. A hand pulling you together so that there’s no room between you; another hand trailing up your back and tangling into your hair. Your own arms wrapping around Jeno’s neck, pulling you up as the kiss deepens.

Sloppy kisses slowly scatter down your jawline, red bruises staining your neck like bold paint on a blank canvas. A small gasp escaping your lips when Jeno’s teeth graze against your skin.

But all too soon, Jeno’s touch against your neck is gone. A short “Are you sure you want this?” whispered between deep inhales as he catches his breath.

Your hands cup his cheeks, pulling his face back in line with yours so that you can plant a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’m sure,” another peck lands on his left cheek, “I’m sure of all of this,” and another kiss on his right, “I’m not leaving this time.” Jeno’s only response is to smile, a genuine smile that seems to warm the frosty air.

“I guess I should show you what you’ve been missing out on then.” Jeno fingers interlock with yours, other hand opening the door and guiding you back into the house where a party is still very much underway. Jaemin shooting you a small smirk, eyebrows raised, mouth rounded, when he sees Jeno escort you up the stairs. A glare being the only thing you can do back before he’s out of view once again.

Jeno finds your bedroom with ease, opening the door as if it was only yesterday that you were sneaking him into your house during the early hours of the morning.

No more words are shared as your lips attach once again, his hands gliding up your body to cup your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks as fingers nestle into your hair. The kiss is clumsy and eager, your legs backing up until they hit the edge of the bed, your body instinctively collapsing onto the mattress. Jeno follows, landing above you as his lips continue to attack yours.

Hands claw at your clothing, slipping under the crop top you’re wearing to cup at your boob before fully removing your top and bra altogether. Your hands follow suit, tugging off Jeno’s leather jacket and pulling off his shirt to reveal his muscular body. The light of the moon perfectly capturing the dips and curves of his toned torso.

Jeno leans back down to kiss you and you can already feel the strain in his pants grinding against your thigh, leaving you to only giggle slightly at his unapologetically eager manner.

Still, you’re just as eager and don’t wait to help relieve him of the building pressure. A hand slipping down to palm the bulge before eventually undoing the button and pulling both the denim and his underwear down.

His cock springs against his stomach as he finally settles onto his knees, his hand tightly gripping his erection before stroking up and down a couple times. The glow of the stars perfectly captures the glistening precum leaking down the side off his cock and you can already feel the pit of arousal growing in your abdomen. “You want help with that?” You smile at the boy, smirking slightly as you crawl towards him, a hand extended. He nods quickly in return and you grip the base of his cock.

Your hand glides up and down his length, your thumb slipping over his tip and eliciting a sweet moan from the boy’s mouth. The pretty sound is like music to your ears and you’ve not heard in so long, the mere thought of coaxing more moans from Jeno has your mouth watering.

Starting from the base, your tongue trails up the vein bulging at the side of Jeno’s cock, tongue then circling around the head. Your eyes meet his half lidded ones, something about the way there’s already a sheen of sweat on his skin from your teasing has your core clenching around nothing. And when you take just the tip of his cock in your mouth, there’s a low grunt and hands are suddenly tugging on your hair, pushing you further down as his hips buck up. It has you gagging slightly but the rough groan from Jeno has you going down for more, letting his grip tighten in your hair and pump you onto his dick.

His tip hits the back of your throat and you hollow cheeks, sucking away the salty leaking liquid.

Jeno’s breathing quickens until he’s panting, his heavy breaths combined with the sloppy sounds as you accelerate your bobbing drown out the already muffled sounds of music from the party downstairs. You know he’s close. You can tell by the way he tugs on your hair and how he chokes out your name when your tongue runs a long strip all the way up his length.

“Fuck,” his hips buck a couple more times, “fuck- fuck.” There’s a harsh guttural sound from the back his throat and he’s pulling out, spilling warm, sticky ropes of cum onto your chest.

It takes a couple seconds for Jeno to regain any sort of composure, his hooded eyes finally focusing on you as the last of his orgasm washes over him. Heavy kisses find there way to your neck and down your collarbone until they’re cleaning up the mess on your chest - and when your lips connect after, you can taste him on his tongue.

Having cleaned you up enough that cum isn’t going to spill onto the bed, Jeno’s hands finally grip your thighs, pulling you towards him with a force that has you falling onto your back. “Your turn baby.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Specks of light dance between the blinds of your bedroom window, the amber glow of the sun forcing you to open your eyes and welcome the morning. As you stir in your bed, a worser headache pounding in your head than you would have liked, you almost forget about the dark haired boy resting beside you. He looks beautiful, not that he doesn’t normally, it’s just that there’s something about him sleeping, safe and secure, one arm loosely hanging around your waist, that makes him look extra ethereal.

His lips are a blush pink, parted slightly. His tousled hair a honey brown as it catches in the golden light. His bare back flexing under the shimmer of the sun, his body finally stirring awake and eyes fluttering open. “Morning baby boy.” You take his chin in your fingers, leaning down to kiss him. And he can only smile at the sweet action, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards to reveal a grin. His eyes curving into crescents.

“Breakfast?” You hum over the chirps of the birds outside, sliding out of bed and slipping on Jeno’s tshirt that was strewn across the floor. He nods back and you can’t help but be sincerely grateful that your parents are away for the whole weekend so that you can fully enjoy this time with him.

The living room is more of a mess than you would like to face in the morning when you head downstairs. And you expect the kitchen to be the same as you enter it. Fortunately however, you are wrong, instead finding Jaemin picking up the pieces of rubbish that littered the countertops.

He smiles as you enter, failing at his attempts to hide the evil flicker in his eyes. “So, d’you enjoy last night?” His eyebrows lift expectantly but you refuse to give in so easily. “I did actually, the party was great.” You nod back, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard and spooning coffee into them. “You enjoy anything else about last night too?” He continues nonetheless, watching you intently as you pour hot water and milk into the mugs, blowing slightly in attempts to cool the drink before taking a sip. “The drinks? The people?...The sex?” His last question has you spitting out your coffee, choking on the hot drink as you look at him with red cheeks - as if you didn’t already know that he knew.

“I fucking hate you.” You murmur, finding a cloth to clean up the coffee you managed to spray across the countertop, Jaemin silently cheering like your personal cheerleader beside you.

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Aight my dudes here’s chapter four of Oopsie Daisies have fun. Thanks again to @edward-or-ford for editing!

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies Chapter Four: Shadows

You’re all I want and I don’t know why. This new addiction is all I know, and it’s safe to say that I’ve lost control. - 2 in the Chest, 1 in the Head, New Years Day

Mabel knew a great many things. She knew how to fix rips in tights and leggings without making it noticeable (and if it was noticeable, it was fucking fabulous, okay?). She knew how to straighten and re-curl her hair in just the right way. She knew how to contour her makeup to change the way her facial structure appeared, and how to paint a mug while keeping it dishwasher safe.

Mabel was, of course, interested enough in those things to learn about them. What she was not interested in is how things work. It was far more important that they do work rather than how, as far as she was concerned. So whenever her Grunkles, dad, and Dipper got together to watch a marathon of How It’s Made on the Shack’s frankly ancient TV, both Mabel and her mom were bored out of their minds.

She was forced to learn plenty in school, thank you very much. It was winter break. She didn’t wanna learn on winter break. Gross. That’s the exact opposite of what winter break is for, and Mabel was of the opinion that doing otherwise is positively blasphemous, but under the careful tutelage of her mother, she’d long since stopped trying to understand the males of the species. Or rather, the males of her family specifically (she’d managed to obtain a vague grasp on the male minds outside of her family, or at least some of them, she thought. Perhaps the boys at her school were just easy to read, or maybe it was teenage boys in general. Not that they were strictly logical in her mind, of course; she just understood how their brains worked to some degree).

And so, an hour after they return to the Shack from the hike, Mabel found herself standing at the kitchen counter, carefully stacking the fifty-seventh (she hadn’t counted, of course, but it was indeed the fifty-seventh) mini marshmallow on top of its companions in her mug of hot chocolate while the beginnings of their silly show blared in the background.

She was humming an old BABBA song as she plucked another marshmallow from the bag, swaying her hips back and forth to the beat in her mind. She stopped when she heard the sound of footsteps, looking over her shoulder to see Dipper shuffling into the room on socked feet.

He was looking everywhere but her. Mabel found this unusual, but what was infinitely more odd was the way he walked over to her quietly, dropped a folded piece of paper at her feet, and then promptly moved to open the fridge as if nothing at all had occurred.

Dropping the marshmallow into her mug, she reached down to retrieve the paper.

“Uh… Dip, you dro-“

“What do you think I should have to drink?” Dipper cut in quickly, the words sloppy and thrown together without proper enunciation.

Mabel blinked. He didn’t want her to ask about it, that much was evident. A note for her, then, perhaps? A secret note?

“Well… I’m having hot chocolate, myself,” she suggested.

“With an obscene number of marshmallows, I see.”

Mabel gasped and put a hand to her chest. “Me? My dear brother, I am positively offended that you would even suggest such a thing!”

He grinned. “Maybe I’ll have some more cider.” He poured himself a glass and left the room before Mabel could think to ask about the paper again.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was coming, she turned back towards her mug, just so, if needed, she could shove the paper into her sweater pocket unnoticed and pretend she was still preparing her hot chocolate. She unfolded it carefully. Dipper didn’t write her handwritten notes. She was a bit excited (more than a bit, but she would never admit to such a thing). Sue her. His handwriting was messy, and she had some minor difficulties reading it, but she did manage to decipher it after a brief moment of staring at the page.

I need to talk to you in private. Once everyone’s gone to bed here, I’ll pick you up from Candy’s. I’ll text you if anything goes wrong.

In private? Mabel’s heart might very well have stopped. She’d never been alone with Dipper. This afternoon had been the closest she’d ever come to it. Even then, though, they hadn’t been actually, truly, genuinely, legitimately alone. Their parents had been right there. And then they’d been interrupted. Their parents were always there.

She was so nervous, so focused on the way her heart was pounding in her ears, that she completely forgot to put the marshmallows away.

—————

If Mabel could see how nervous Dipper was as he pulled on his jeans and shoes, she wouldn’t have believed it was in any way related to her. If it was somehow proven to her that it was related to her, however, she would have been thrilled beyond all measure.

But Mabel couldn’t see Dipper, as he was on the other end of a text message that read leaving now, and so she remained wholly unaware of the absolute terror he wasn’t bothering to keep from his facial expression, as there was none of the usual audience present.

With no one around to request an explanation, Dipper felt no need to keep his anxiety in check as he placed his shaking foot on the last stair of the Shack.

He was about to walk over to the coat rack by the front door when-

“Dipper,” rang out his father’s voice, the low tone sounding like a roar in the quiet of the house.

Dipper whirled around to face his dad, who was seated in an armchair hidden in the shadows of the living room. It was no wonder Dipper hadn’t noticed him before he spoke; he could’ve been a shadow himself.

Dipper was relieved it was too dark for Mr. Pines to see his expression clearly, the man’s face obscured by darkness. He instead concerned himself with his body language and voice. He hunched himself over as if he were barely awake and faked a yawn.

“Dad, you scared me.”

“What are you doing up this late?” Mr. Pines asked.

“Getting a glass of water. Woke up thirsty,” Dipper explained, careful to keep his voice tired-sounding.

“Mmm,” Mr. Pines nodded. “Kitchen’s that way,” he pointed in the opposite direction Dipper had been walking in, as if Dipper didn’t live there and was not fully aware of the Shack’s layout (note: Dipper was indeed fully aware of the Shack’s layout and could certainly navigate it half asleep).

“Huh?” Dipper said with false bleariness. “Oh, right.”

Shuffling into the kitchen, Dipper poured himself a glass of water and moved sluggishly back to the living room with it in hand.

“Goodnight, son.”

“Night, dad,” Dipper mumbled with more fake sleepiness.

If Mabel had seen it, she wouldn’t know what to feel. But she hadn’t seen it, because Dipper was on the other end of a dad’s awake, we’ll have to tomorrow text.

She also couldn’t see the expression he made when she replied, asking why he couldn’t just text it to her, and not to keep her in suspense, nor could Dipper see her inflamed face (and neck and ears, if we’re honest, but don’t share such observances with Mabel) or the way she was biting her lip nervously, perhaps he might not have been as nervous. Perhaps he might have even been hopeful.

But alas, neither twin had the other in their sight, and were therefore doomed to be eaten alive by their anxiety and respective insecurities.

If one knows anything about teenage girls (and perhaps even a fair percentage of women as well), one is fully cognizant of the rather unfortunate tendency many of them have to analyze, reanalyze, and overanalyze each individual word, action, and tone of voice that emerges from the object of their affection.

In Mabel’s case, she was seated on the cold tiles of Candy’s bathroom, back leaning against the locked door. It was late enough that Grenda and Candy were asleep, thankfully. Recently, Mabel had been taking forever to fall asleep. Which was strange, because she had never had any issues that could be anywhere near insomnia before. Thus, everyone else fell asleep before she did.

It wasn’t her fault. Honestly, it wasn’t! It was just that Dipper was so damn attractive and sweet and funny, and how could she sleep when she could only fight her thoughts of him while conscious? He plagued her dreams, so she couldn’t even escape him in sleep the way she used to be able to do. He had invaded her every thought, every moment, every breath. He was in her bloodstream. In her veins. She could not escape her yearning for him.

And so, as she sat on the bathroom floor staring at her phone, at Dipper’s last text of I need to tell you in person, she typed out a slow, resigned okay and leaned her head back against the door.

What was going on with him? He’d told her so many things over text before and it had never been an issue. Why was this different? Maybe he was only insisting on telling her in person because they were so close distance-wise, which wasn’t a regular occurance, of course, but maybe he’d have been perfectly fine with telling her whatever it was over text if she hadn’t been visiting Gravity Falls? Or maybe he’d want to FaceTime or Skype instead? Or maybe it was so very important he tell her in person that he’d actually been waiting since the last time they had seen each other?

But what could be so important? How was it so important he needed to tell her in person? Was it truly so different than every other thing he’d ever told her? Countless stories and anecdotes and complaints and late-night phone calls and existential discussions; how was this different?

No matter how much she thought and analyzed it (which, rest assured, was a great deal indeed), she kept coming back to one thing, one unthinkable, horrifying, terrifying, heart-wrenching, devastating scenario:

What if he’d found his soulmate?

What else would have been so important, made it so essential he told her in person? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Dipper had never mentioned how he felt about the prospect of having a soulmate. He knew how she felt about hers, and having a soulmark, but he’d never shared his own feelings with her in return.

Which was fair, honestly, because soulmates and soulmarks were intensely personal things. She might as well have asked him to strip down and do some nude modeling for her (which, side note, that sounded positively heavenly. She never drew him or painted him where anybody could see; only in the secret sketchbook she kept in a locked drawer in her bedroom, and those drawings were primarily focused on his jawline and facial structure, although she had drawn his butt on more than a few occasions. And his arms. And his torso. What could she say? She looked at him a lot, studied the way he moved, and he inspired her to create. In any case, she’d absolutely love to see him naked, obviously, because who wouldn’t, but to draw him… get it together Mabel, you’re getting all worked up!), which… was not going to happen, tragically.

He’d never shared anything regarding his soulmate with her. That meant, of course, that he hadn’t found his yet, nor was he in the unusual soulmarked-but-not-knowing-with-whom situation that Mabel herself was in. As indicated by his insistence on telling her in person (which he had, of course, never insisted upon before, or even expressed a passing desire to tell her something in person rather than digitally), whatever it was must have been more important than anything he’d ever told her.

What was more important than him finding his soulmate? She couldn’t think of another possibility. Couldn’t even fathom it, no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really fathom the possibility that he might’ve found his soulmate, either, but that was primarily because she didn’t want to.

What would that be like, to watch him with his soulmate? Knowing Mabel’s luck, she’d never find out who hers was (she’d clearly been around him her whole life and had yet to find him, so what were the odds she’d figure it out later? Once she left school, she’d probably start experiencing withdrawal symptoms, which would be horrible, but she had long since accepted the likelihood of that), and since she saw Dipper regularly and talked to him all the time, it wasn’t likely she’d get over him.

Family gatherings could be a real bitch.

Which meant, of course, that Mabel was doomed to suffer withdrawal symptoms for the rest of her life while watching the man she loved, who just so happened to be her twin brother, find his soulmate, fall in love, get married, and have children. It was when she considered things like that that the idea of regularly consuming Smile Dip sounded fan-freaking-tastic. At least then she’d be too out of it to suffer.

Mabel wasn’t one for wallowing in self-pity and misery. She was a fairly positive person. Whenever she found herself moping or depressed, she could usually pull herself out of it. In that respect, she was tremendously lucky, as not everyone was capable of that.

But with this, loving Dipper (or rather, being in love with Dipper, which she very much was)... there was this sadness deep inside of her that she just couldn’t seem to shake. She could tuck it away in the back of her mind, pretend it wasn’t there. At least for awhile, anyway. But it never left. Not really. It was always there, in the box she’d locked it away in. Sometimes, though, the box broke open, and it would consume her, like shadows consuming light.

When she thought of Dipper with his soulmate, smiling at a nameless, faceless stranger, beaming at his wedding (knowing Dipper, he’d insist she be a bridesmaid. What agony that would be), holding a child that wasn’t Mabel’s, could never, ever be Mabel’s (Mabel would probably be the godmother, too), the shadows never failed to consume her.

She pulled her legs to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees, and let the tears fall.

[lightneverfades]

Of Sweaters and Reindeer

Frostiron Holiday Wishes Challenge ❆ 🎅🎄 Prompts by @kimmycup Fic written by @shinindragon

Wish (Prompt/Idea): Loki in Tony's MIT sweatshirt.

When Tony came home in the middle of the night, he just stumbled towards his bedroom, not paying any kind of attention to his surroundings. He just wanted to crawl back into his warm, comfy bed, wrap himself around his boyfriend, bury his face in his soft locks and fall into a state of welcome unconsciousness.

The Avengers had been called away in the middle of the night to deal with Doom, who had thought it was a brilliant idea to wreak havoc in Times Square at a most unreasonable hour. Steve, wide awake and ready for anything, had rudely woken them all and told them to suit up. Tony had wanted to punch him, wipe that irritating awakeness off his stupid face. Who in their right mind was that awake at 1:30 in the morning?! And no, Tony wasn't complaining because he hadn't gotten much sleep when Captain 'I Get Up At 5am Anyway' had pulled him from his sweet, sweet slumber. On the contrary, actually– Loki had made him go to bed early because he had pulled a lab binge and had been awake for nearly three whole days at that point. So they had been passed out in each other's arms in their way too big bed by 10pm.

Loki didn't necessarily stop Tony from his lab binges, because he knew that, when Tony had his mind set on something, he wouldn't be able to rest until he had answers or made something to his satisfaction. The Norse God only intervened when Tony went over the forty-eight hours mark, and Tony did the same when it came to Loki and his reading or magic stuff, because they were both like that, staying awake for too long nurturing their respective interests, and then collapsing and regretting the binge, just to not learn and do it again after having been in a coma for two days. That's why they had made a deal at some point, because it tended to really get out of hand, and that wasn't good for their overall health, or usefulness in battles, or just in general– they wouldn't stop each other from these binges, but when it was longer than two days, they would intervene, insist on a proper meal and rest. It worked. Sure, they still were up for two days straight quite often, but this was easier than intervening after, like, six hours already, because that only made them upset and grumpy. And neither of them liked to be forced to stop tending to their hobbies, but they also knew they couldn't stay awake for a week without it having consequences. The other Avengers (and Pepper and Rhodey) trusted them to look out for each other when it concerned the binges.

And yesterday had been nice.

Tony had been up for a little over fifty hours by the time Loki had come into the workshop and intervened, which was just short for 'he distracted Tony with fleeting, casual touches and kisses and running his fingers through his hair and looking over his shoulder watching him work, until Tony finally snapped and grabbed his hand to go over to the couch to have some fun'.

Yes, a very nice afternoon indeed.

They had fallen asleep on the couch down in Tony's workshop, Tony sprawled out on top of Loki, both very much naked (obviously) and hoping no one would have the questionable luck of entering the workshop and seeing them– which had happened before, poor Clint.

When they had woken up again, they had gotten dressed (Loki's magic really came in handy at times, lots of times) and then had ordered take-out and watched Netflix until Loki had decided it was time to actually get some sleep, and Tony hadn't complained. Going to bed with Loki was wonderful, and he didn't even mean the sex necessarily (which was great, thank you very much). No, one of the best things was that Loki was a cuddler, and falling asleep in his arms was great.

And that's what Tony wanted right now. When Steve had woken them, Tony had to extract himself from Loki's loving embrace, much to the displeasure of the Trickster, who hadn't even been fully awake. Tony had voiced his dismay about having to get up rather loudly and using quite colourful language, including some swear words in foreign languages– Natasha had almost lost it when he had been swearing in Russian, Steve had just stared at him utterly dumbstruck. That look had been worth the disrupted sleep and cuddling, to be honest.

But now he was finally back home, it was a quarter after four, and he just wanted to get back into Loki's arms.

He entered their bedroom and dropped down on the bed, sighing heavily. It was only then that he noticed that the bed was empty. He felt around for good measure, but alas, no Loki.

Tony frowned. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir?" came the voice of his AI.

"Where's Loki?"

"You walked past him, Sir."

Tony's frown deepened. "What?"

"He is on the couch in the living room," JARVIS answered.

So Tony got back up from the bed and walked to the living room, which was only semi-dark now, because JARVIS had turned on the lights but only very dimly, and now he spotted Loki, curled up with a fluffy blanket on the couch. Not just curled up, he was basically a God of Mischief burrito, which was a common occurrence and generally really adorable. Tony smiled and knelt down in front of him and tenderly caressed his cheek.

"Loki," he said gently, brushing some strands of hair out of his man's face and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Surprisingly, Loki almost immediately woke up, slowly but he did. He blinked a few times and Tony could pinpoint the exact moment he recognized him because he started to smile, it was a very soft, very sleepy smile, and it looked beautiful.

"You're back," Loki mumbled drowsily.

"I am," Tony chuckled, running his fingers through Loki's hair.

"Are you hurt?"

Of course that would be the first thing Loki asked, because no matter how tired, asleep or annoyed by Tony he was, he cared very deeply about him and always worried about him when he went out on missions.

"No, I'm okay." Tony pressed another kiss to Loki's forehead. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for you."

"I'm here now." Tony smiled softly. "C'mon, let's go back to bed."

"No," Loki grumbled, taking Tony's hand. "S'ay here, don' wanna ge' up."

Loki in a sleep-drunk state was quite the experience. His speech was very drowsy, a little slurred, swallowing the T's for some reason, and he had just popped the p in 'up'– it was just so totally different from his usual very sophisticated, sometimes posh, tone. Very amusing, too.

"C'mere," Loki purred, followed by a huge yawn, and pulled Tony down on the couch.

Tony chuckled but let Loki do whatever he was doing, because honestly, this side of Loki was just too cute to disrupt. Loki pulled at the sleeve of his shirt, signalling him to lean down, where Tony was greeted with soft lips on his, meeting for a very lazy, rather sloppy kiss, and it felt wonderful.

When their lips separated again, Tony saw that Loki was halfway off to dreamland again, his eyes droopy and his lips slightly parted, which could be from the kiss, but it was also just how he slept. So Tony decided that it just wasn't worth the effort to get Loki awake and up, just to go sleep in bed, and tried to get Loki to open his blanket cocoon for him, which thankfully Loki did, more unconsciously than anything else though– like mentioned, the Loki playing blanket burrito was a common occurrence. Tony slipped underneath the blanket and settled on top of Loki, noticing with a quirked eyebrow the bold letters on the sweater his lover was wearing, which said 'MIT', and he was fairly certain that he hadn't worn that shirt when Tony had left. But it wasn't important right now, he'd just ask about it tomorrow.

JARVIS turned off the lights again, which was Tony's cue to rest his head under Loki's chin. He sighed content and closed his eyes.

"I love you, Loki," he muttered into the darkness.

Arms wrapped around him and a soft hum came from Loki, who was already asleep again, and Tony quickly followed suit.

***

Tony woke up a few hours later when JARVIS decided it was time to get up and have breakfast, and he did that by opening the blinds covering the window front and let in the daylight, which was just such an evil, devious thing to do. Tony fought against waking up for a bit but ultimately failed and let out an exasperated sigh. Well, Loki was still underneath him, sleeping soundly with a soft, peaceful look on his face, and Tony didn't want to disturb him because, first off, he looked adorable, and secondly, Loki was sleeping after having trouble with it for the past week because of nightmares.

So Tony very slowly, very carefully, like he was on a frozen lake, got up and climbed off of Loki, who had no reaction at all, thankfully. Tony's gaze fell on the MIT sweater the God was wearing and once more found himself raising an eyebrow. Yes, he was absolutely sure that Loki hadn't worn that when they had gone to bed the evening before. He had worn Tony's Black Sabbath T-shirt, which he had nicked a few months ago. Tony didn't mind Loki wearing his clothes, in fact, he loved it. Loki had to make them bigger using his magic or else he would walk around with a crop top, which was a very wild image. Tony was convinced it would look great, very sexy, but he knew Loki would never sink so low, probably. But he wanted to wear Tony's clothes and that was just so unexpected and wonderful.

He covered Loki with the blanket again, which caused Loki to subconsciously curl into himself again, once more turning himself into a blanket burrito. Tony chuckled, kissed Loki's forehead and then silently crept off to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

A little later, he was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, his legs up, cradling a StarkPad on them and reading the news, about to finish his second cup, when he noticed Loki starting to stir and slowly waking up. He finished his coffee, put the tablet on the table and went back to the kitchen to make Loki a cup of tea. And as he had expected, just as he was about to put a splash of milk into the tea, Loki came padding into the kitchen, immediately wrapping his arms around Tony's waist and nuzzling his hair.

"Good morning to you too, Comet," Tony said smirking and turned his head to let his lips be claimed in yet another lazy, sloppy kiss.

Loki hummed. "Is that another reindeer name?" he asked, his voice still very drowsy from sleep.

Tony smiled. "It is."

"I told you before, Anthony," Loki answered, interrupted by a yawn as he pulled away to lean against the counter, "reindeer have antlers" – he put his hands to his head, mimicking said animal part – "not horns, so the nickname doesn't make sense. Goats have horns, or sheep, or ibex."

Tony grinned at him. "You will always be a reindeer to me, Bambi."

"Bambi was just a regular deer," Loki sighed.

Tony chuckled and just kissed him on the cheek as he handed him his tea. Loki completely forgot the 'reindeer discourse' (which was a regular thing as well) at the sight of his beloved tea and brought the cup up to his face, just to inhale the scent for a moment, before he then finally took a sip and hummed happily.

Meanwhile, Tony leaned against the kitchen island opposite of Loki and stared at him, or rather his MIT sweater. Loki didn't notice as he was distracted by his tea, a very happy, yet still quite sleepy smile on his lips as he drank it with noises of content after every sip. Tony honestly loved watching Loki in the morning, because it was like he was a completely different person, very soft and adorable. To be fair though, Tony got to see Loki from a different side than all the other Avengers anyway, he even bet that Thor didn't know this side of Loki, but he was convinced Thor didn't really know Loki anyway.

When Loki finally finished his tea, after seemingly ages, he put the cup down and looked at Tony.

"Why are you staring at me? Something wrong with my hair?" he asked, instinctively reaching to check if his hair was weird in some way.

Tony shook his head smiling. "No, I'm staring because you're wearing my MIT sweater. Why are you wearing my MIT sweater?"

Loki looked at him surprised for a moment and then looked away, very clearly blushing and he started to fidget, which was odd, because there was nothing to be nervous about right now, was there? Yet, Loki very clearly was nervous about something, which was probably him wearing Tony's shirt, and Tony wondered why because it wasn't news? Loki wore Tony's clothes a lot actually, see him having nicked the Black Sabbath T-shirt Tony had worn when he had confronted him here in this very penthouse back in 2012.

Maybe his nervousness was only linked to the MIT sweater? But he wouldn't be nervous about wearing it, he actually liked to show off wearing Tony's clothes, which Tony guessed had something to do with pride and spite, like "Look at me! I have a boyfriend who, unlike all of you, has impeccable fashion sense!"– okay, to be fair, that was Tony's point of view on the situation and wasn't necessarily the truth of why Loki liked to walk around in Tony's clothes. Fact of the matter was though, that he did like it, so why was he nervous now?

Maybe it was the reason why he wore it? Maybe it was more than just 'he is my boyfriend, so I'm gonna steal his clothes and wear them, like every good boyfriend does'? If he was nervous about it, then this option was very likely.

Tony reached out and took Loki's hand. "Loki? Why are you wearing it? I mean, it looks good on you. You know I love it when you wear my clothes."

Loki turned his head to look at him again and flashed him a shy smile. "I… It smells of you, and it comforts me when you're gone," he finally answered, and Tony might just melt because of the answer. "It's not like it is with the other shirts. I only put it on when you're gone and… and you weren't supposed to know, because if you do, you won't continue wearing it, as it is 'legally mine now', as you told me. You stopped wearing all the other shirts I started wearing, and I don't want that to happen with this one. It still smells of you and it comforts me and I need that because I worry so much when you leave to do your hero thing, and I'm scared you won't return or that you get hurt badly, and that just… it upsets me, but I can't stop thinking like that, no matter what I try, and I just–"

Loki gasped surprised when Tony, without any kind of warning whatsoever, cut off his rambling by pressing his still of coffee tasting, soft lips on Loki's, claiming them in a passionate and loving kiss. Loki moaned and closed his eyes, burying a hand in Tony's thick hair (so fluffy!), while Tony moved his hands from Loki's face to his waist and brought their bodies together, so that there was no space left between them.

In Loki's opinion, Tony ended the kiss way too soon. Loki kept his eyes closed, his hands dropped to his sides.

There was a peck on his cheek, and then Tony said, "I love you, Cupid."

Loki rolled his eyes behind his eyelids but smiled nonetheless. He felt Tony wrap his arms around his waist and finally opened his eyes, Tony smiled at him warmly and lovingly.

"I will keep on wearing it if that's what you want," he said and Loki blushed again, which only made Tony smile more and kiss his temple. "I think it's incredibly sweet that it comforts you and I wouldn't want to take that away from you."

Loki smiled and leaned into Tony's embrace.

"Keep the size though," Tony remarked. "Oversized sweaters and hoodies are amazing."

"You don't own any hoodies," Loki pointed out.

Tony gasped. "Then I need to change that!" Loki chuckled. "Or better yet," Tony continued, "we get you a hoodie, and then I get to wear your clothes finally."

Loki laughed. "Our clothes."

"Yeah, exactly, our clothes. Our sweaters and hoodies and T-shirts."

"My leather armor though."

"Yeah, I wouldn't look good in that anyway."

"Oh, I don't know. I think leather would look rather… ravishing on you." Loki smirked and actually had the audacity to lick his lips– his soft, tasty, very tempting, very inviting looking lips!

Tony stared at him and then grinned. "Only one way to find out, I suppose."

"Right you are, love."

Loki took Tony by the hand and went to the bedroom to prove his theory about Tony looking good in leather. (Spoiler alert: he does!)

If they weren't seen or heard of for the remainder of the day, what about it?

If Tony didn't show up for the debrief with Fury, what about it?

If Steve walked in on them having fun because he was upset Tony missed the debrief and didn't answer calls, and also because JARVIS refused to give any information on him, then what about it? The consequential trauma that followed seeing Tony and Loki naked and in the middle of some quite kinky 'fonduing' was entirely on him, okay.

The next day, Tony had JARVIS order an oversized, even for Loki a little, green hoodie with a reindeer on it, which Loki accepted happily and wore proudly. And when it was Tony's turn to wear the hoodie, he chose to smack Steve with the sleeves whenever he inevitably annoyed him, much to the delight of literally everyone around, especially Loki, because he thought that was an excellent choice of non-lethal, not-especially-harmful weapon, and also because he thought Steve deserved to be smacked in the face with hoodie sleeves.

Meanwhile, even though they enjoyed watching Tony smack Steve in the face with sleeves, everyone else was convinced that Tony and Loki were actual five years olds, trapped in the bodies of grown men, one of which was supposed to be a thousand year old Norse God, and the other a genius inventor.

But what did it matter anyway? Tony and Loki were happy, and no one could deny that they deserved it, and it was also a wonderful sight to watch those two idiots be so incredibly in love with each other.

So if they annoyed the other Avengers with their antics sometimes, what about it? They were happy and that's what mattered in the end, alright.

[theoriquewitherseld]

Heck I DO wanna know more! I'm super interested in thia fic 👀

OK I am SUPER happy receiving this ask, but alas all I can offer is a lot of excerpts,, more under the cut

When Jacques arrives at Stain'd, he finds the records to be VERY accurate: it's a deadzone. That would likely explain the weird look the conductor gave him when he requested to get off. There's no longer anybody here

Back then there must have been some, perhaps, in order to enact Lem's apprenticeship. But he still regards the situation with an air of apprehension. Large chunk of reports were missing, reports that were leading up to his disappearance. It could be that VFD hid it, of course, but intentional or not, its denominator remains the same: something monumentally terrible occured for that to happen.

And he will have to walk straight to it. Or at least, its aftermath.

The rattle of the train leaving startles him, and he shakes off his nerves. He wants so badly to get back on the train, jump on the railings perhaps but the rear has gotten quite a distance away. He's already alone.

(Oh God I just realized I have no idea what people do after they get off trains. Should there be like people taking ur tickets or something?? Ive been on a train only once and that was super long ago)

The Stain'd Station was utterly deprived of life. Everything was cracked and looked in the danger of falling apart. Litter and dirt was strewn all around. There was no place that Jacques just wanted more to bail out of immediately (except, perhaps, that one wasp-infested area but that is besides the point). It unnerves him, to listen to the echoes of his footsteps in the abandoned station, with its business nothing more than a ghost of its past. It rattles him more than the rattle of train wheels on the tracks. But he trudges on, hoping to find some clue.

Out on the street was no better. All buildings were boarded up, some windows smashed. Brown grass was growing out of the sidewalks. There was few vehicles on the side of the road: a brown rusty one with its hood popped up and its insides gone, a yellow cab so terribly dented, and a black one with its paint job scratched and all four of its tires missing. It was a miserable place, not fit for any human life, much less an apprenticeship. He grimaces in dismay. This is where they dumped his brother? Even as a containment procedure, it was a bit much. No person should be in this place.

But that wasn't the most pressing issue. The most pressing issue is where to start. He does not have the faintest idea where he is in this desolate town, much less where his brother stayed for the duration in the past — except for the address of The Lost Arms. But that information was useless without a map, and every other map he scoured to know about the town has vehemently insisted that Stain'd-By-The-Sea does not exist. Whether VFD has already tampered with those maps, he can not tell.

He had hoped there may be a clue in there, some forgotten item, a thing accidentally left behind. But with no map, his best course of action is to simply search every establishment and hope for serendipity. Not all of the best things are necessarily good things.

He hears a rumble of an engine.

His gaze snaps upwards, puzzled if whether or not he had imagined it. Then he can see the yellow dented cab making its way towards him at a snail's pace. Jacques's heart stops, and gripped his suitcase until his knuckles turned white. It was a trusty little suitcase, filled with tools and files that are of great use of him, but he's not so sure if it were of any use against a damned ghost cab. If it were really a ghost. If Kit was here, she would've scoffed at him. But he's not really feeling up to an argument, not when his feet was stuck to the pavement, body frozen into place. He stares, heart pounding like there was no tomorrow as the taxi pulls up to its side, exactly right in front of him, and stops.

But then the window rolls down, and Jacques felt very, very foolish, but immensely relieved, as it reveals a worn and much younger face of a boy with a busted blue cap.

"Well, hello there friend," he says, with a voice just as tired. "Another visitor was the last thing we expected, but —" he gives a small shrug, "— here we are. Need a taxi?"

It took him a moment to realize how stupid he looked with his mouth gaping open. "I-I'm sorry," Jacques stammered, once he found his voice. "We?"

Another younger face pops up from below the young driver, and Jacques nearly jumps in surprise. "That would be us, the Bellerophon brothers," he reveals with a squeaky but cracked voice. "I'm Pecuchet, and this—" he points upward, and his brother tipped his hat at him, " — is Bouvard, but that makes people's tongue tired, so you can call him Pip, and me, Squeak."

The driver known as "Pip" frowned. "Are you alright though? You've looked like you've seen a ghost."

His eyes fluttered. "Er  — Yes, yes, I... I am afraid I also didn't expect anyone to come here either." He tips his white hat at them in turn. "Greetings to you, I am Ja— James Moore."

Internally, he cringed. It was a sloppy pseudonym, but he can't risk revealing who he is in the potential situation VFD managed to track his trail, they wouldn't be able to hold incriminating evidence against him. Curiously, it didn't arouse much suspicion from the odd duo, except for a slight tilt of the head.

"Well, nice to meet you Mr. Moore. Do you need a ride anywhere?"

Jacques is not quite sure what to think of climbing into a cab with kids of odd names in an abandoned town. However, his relief in discovering that there is fellow life, inexplicable as it is, and a likelier possibility of gaining information triumphed over whatever reservations he had at the moment. In the pursuit of his search, with its very nonexistent lead, he'd take anything.

"I'd like to go to the Lost Arms please."

"Sure," Pip reached out behind him and opened the door. "Hop in."

He pauses, and then climbs in and closes it shut, and soon enough, the two brothers drive away from the Station with startlingly expert hands on both wheel and brakes. Jacques is fairly impressed at their coordination.

"Say," Pip starts, once they got a quite the distance away. "Apologies if it sounds prying, friend, but out of curiosity, what business does a stranger have with Stain'd-By-The-Sea?"

That shook him out of his stupor. Idiotically, he hasn't prepared for that, he was ascertain there won't be anyone here, he even got business cards and all but it's not in his suitcase (which he wants to smack himself on). His mind blanks for a moment, but he manages to scramble an answer that isn’t necessarily a lie nor a truth. "I am private investigator hired to search for someone last seen in this town."

Pip looked at him through the rearview mirror, which was a bit dirty and cracked. "Oh? That certainly does explain why someone wants to be in this town."

Jacques didn't bother to clarify he does NOT want to be here at all, but he nods his head instead.

He expertly steered the wheel. "You wouldn't happen to be allowed the details no? Sorry, but interesting things have rarely happened here since..."

"I'm afraid not, no," Jacques blinks. That felt off. "Speaking of visitors, you haven't happened to have driven someone around lately no?"

"Until you came along? Not one for the past year. No outsiders at the very least."

He deflates a little, but he's unsurprised. So he really wasn't here recently. He was about ask more, when the taxi came to a stop in front of a shabby and derelict building he would presume to be the Lost Arms.

Once again, Pip reached out to open the door for him. "Here we are then, Mr. Moore."

"Thank you," he says, retrieving his wallet. "How much is the fare?"

Pip blinked in surprise. Then his eyes flickered towards the wallet, and his eyes widened further. "Huh, I never expected a paying customer today either."

It puzzles him so much that he tilts his head. Did they just let him ride as a charity? "Well, it's only natural to pay for a service, no?"

He just shrugged. "It's alright. Keep the money, it's not gonna be much use anyways, with the state of the town. You may wanna give that to the proprietor though —" he nods to the building, "— Prosper Lost."

"Well, I shan't dare to think of leaving this taxi without giving something in return," Jacques insisted.

"How about a tip then?"

"A tip?" he frowns. "A tip what?"

"Anything really, s'long as its useful."

That got him thinking. He thought of giving them a tip of accepting money when they get it and leave this terrifying place, but decided against. He then looks up.

"Here's a tip, there's this book that..." he trails off, feeling a painful lump form in his throat. "That my associate enjoys. Champion of the World, heard of it?"

~

Ellington feels the bitter sweetness on her tongue. The air was damp and cold after the shower, having ceased into droplets. Everything reminded her the cool greens and blues of a watercolor painting. At the distance, the light of the morning sun peaks through. She's glad she's getting some pieces of her back, but some of the damage will be permanent, and some things are just lost forever. Seeing the Association and strangers and natives to Killdeer fields all work together to set things right was amazing, but also drove home on the tragedy of Armstrong Feint, whose pursuit of vengeance blinded him, destroyed himself and set back hopes of recovery for years. The pain he inflicted was an unnecessary cruelty, that if he had bothered to spare, even the tinniest bit of mercy and offered his help, he would've witnessed the return of the sea and the recovery of the environment, and they could've been together.

But he had made a decision. All of their parents did — the Mallahans, the Hixes, the Knights, the Bellerophons, the Losts. What's done is done.

She remembers a line that her father read her once, many years ago. It was the book where Snicket claimed a wizard was not so very helpful, and that her father loved because of its elaborate descriptions of trees. Many elaborate description of trees.

"'I wish it need not have happened in my time,' said Frodo." Ellington murmurs to herself.

"'So do I,' said Gandalf, 'and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'"

She stares at the sky.

~

But there was a knock at the door

They both froze. Moxie is still on the phone — with who, Kellar didn't hear.

It could be anyone, Kellar thought, perhaps some coworkers who forgot their stuff, or has the intention to work overtime. It may even be some neighbor, asking for help or providing assistance. It could even be a fellow Associate. There's no reason really, to think there could be enemies on the other side.

But he walked anyway. His breathing far too loud and uneven, yet his pace cautious and fearful. He calls out, "Who's there?"

No answer.

"I'm warning you," he says slowly, attempting to keep the tremble out of his voice, "that I'm armed."

Silence. It's a blatant lie of course, but no matter how he strained his ears, he still can't hear anyone walking away. They’re not fooled.

He motions to Moxie to get ready to run. A few seconds, he could buy that. Enough seconds to scramble whatever data they need and bolt like hell. Kellar doesn't see if she saw it.

The door is inches away from him now. His heart pounded in his chest. His hands carefully placed on the dark wood, and he looked into the peephole.

Kellar had barely moved his head in time just to dodge the blast shot that would've blown away bits of his brain, but had blown off half of his right ear instead.

He screamed, it hurt, hurt worse than anything he'd known and he's sure he's lost his hearing there, but he let the wound bleed and instead ducked and braced himself against the door to keep them from opening it. "Moxie run!"

~

"Look at him. Look. At. Him." Pip hissed, and Squeak looked at them with an air of innocence. "You think that's an angel?? A beacon of innocence?? Wrong. That's bastard incarnate. The single source of maliciousness on this earthly realm. Look. Look how evil he looks. He's a little prick."

~

"Frankly, I'd love to have a sibling," Cleo said.

Kellar looked at her as if she said something deranged and jabs a thumb towards Lizzie. "No, you don't. I love my sister, but you think she won't sell me off to the circus first chance she gets?" He shook his head. "Think again."

~

"Dibs."

"What the—" Moxie then scowled. "That was too fast."

Snicket just shrugged. "I have two older siblings, Moxie. The true nature of siblings... Is natural selection."

"Are you certain you should be using big boy words like that?" Ellington asked, bemused. "I'm fairly certain you can't even differentiate a crocodile and an alligator."

~

"If I may introduce you to my family," Jacques says.

He points to Kit emerging from his side. "— Parasite number one—".

And he points to Snicket as he emerges from the other. "— and Parasite number two."

~

"Alright, does anyone have any questions?" Jacques asks tiredly.

They all raise their hands.

"That isn’t sarcastic," he snaps.

They all lowered their hands, disappointed.

Jacques sighs. "Lizzie, you've got the stage."

~

"Just what time is it?" Ellington inquires, exhausted.

"Hang on," Kit smiled, and instead of whipping out a clock, she instead produces a clarinet. She took a deep breath, and blew. Before she could even make it to the second note, they look up at the ceiling— startled— suddenly hearing a very muffled but very clear yell from Jacques, Kit, are you seriously playing the clarinet at 2 IN THE DAMN MORNING.

They look down. Kit still has a devilish smile plastered.

"It's 2 am," she announces.

[saythankyoumood]

Project Runway: 18.14 Finale, Part 2

Purple Heart by Geoffrey Mac

Geoffrey was certainly a dark horse contender this season. He has some highs and lows, but towards the end of the competition he found his stride. I was interested in seeing what a collection from Geoffrey would look like. I don’t think I would have predicted this. Like his designs during the season, Geoffrey’s collection was a peak of highs and lows for me. I really loved the work he did with the chainmail into puffer jackets. I usually hate that style, but he did it in a way that felt dramatic and fashion forward. Most of the dresses were a miss for me. They had no shape. I didn’t care much about the menswear either. Aside from maybe five looks, this was not a collection for me. If I had to guess, I would imagine it was a close decision between Geoffrey and Nancy. I think Geoffrey won out because he truly did try to innovate in technique and silhouettes, and his collection told a cohesive story.

Weirdly, this might be my favorite look of Geoffrey’s collection. It shouldn’t be. I historically hate the puffy jackets, but I like the vibe of this. I like the weirdness of the sparkly puffy jacket with this subdued short dresss. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. And Thijin rocks it.

Geoffrey! I have so many problems. So many! Too much black, too many layers, too much hanging fabric! I’m not even sure where each piece begins and ends. It looks sloppy. I just want to take scissors and liberate her of some fabric.

Why do I feel like this could be a costume for a Disney villain? I like it. I’m into the whole vibe of the look: the feathers at the collar, the shine of the fabric, and how the model is showing absolutely no skin. And it’s a dress with a shape that fits! I adore it.

Ugh, do I have to talk about menswear? I don’t want to. I don’t care about menswear. But, alas, I must because Geoffrey designed some in his collection. I despise this look. Again, I am not into puffer material. I hate the too low tank top that looks dirty. I despise the mustard yellow color and how pieces of the pants are just dangling in front. It all just looks sloppy. Also, doesn’t this puffer heavy preview remind you of Jamal from last season? It just feels like stuff he would design.

I adore this! This is a cool, sophisticated girl. This is a Geoffrey I want to see more of! That too? Beautiful. And I hate sheer tops! And the pants? They feel like an updated harem pant for Jasmine, and I mean that as a compliment.

GEOFFREY! Why do you do this? Why do you make menswear so that I have to take about menswear? I don’t want to! I don’t care what men other than the ones I’m related to wear. But fine! I will... I think I have this exact same jacket in gray. Literally. I could go and take a picture of it and post it here, but I’m tired and lazy so I won’t. Just take my word that this jacket already exists in the world in many colors. And the pants? They’re men’s pants. Nothing more to say.

Geoffrey! BABE! I love you. I know you can make cool stuff. So why can’t you make dresses that have a shape? This is a problem! I like the material and the drapes of the sleeve, but I wish it looked like it fits.

What Geoffrey change about this dress between the finale preview and the show? I honestly cannot see a different. It is still a weird, alien-like dress with very little shape. I agree with the judges on this dress.

This dress fits slightly better than the two ill-fitting dresses I complained about earlier? But barely? Again, I like the drama of the sleeves. I enjoy the pleating of the skirt. But I’m still not going to get that excited about dresses that I don’t feel have a shape.

God, why do I like Geoffrey’s puffer looks so much? I don’t know what’s happening to me. But I do. I love them. They have drama and excitement that I feel is missing from much of his collection. I mean, this is fashion. It’s extra and sparkly and makes me want to talk about menswear. I want to try on this puffer jacket.

[gasoline-and-matches-story]

Gasoline and Matches--Chapter One

Author’s notes: Greetings, lovelies--Spirit here bringing some original content for once. I’ve been working on this story for a long time, started it in high school with my friend @tiltingplanet. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter, any feedback would be lovely.

Chapter One

“I swear to fucking god--I am not skinny dipping in a random cave pool with you assholes.”

Yomi winced at the overly loud voice of her fellow classmate, pressing her back to a cave wall while everyone bickered. The tucked away corner of stone was her only solace--Hard, cold despite the sticky heat that came with a summer day. Of all the things she could have done with her Saturday, this was by far the most reckless. Idiotic. Completely out of character for the white and black-haired girl. Not one for parties or celebrations of any kind, yet here she was on private property in the middle of that god damn night. Trespassing in an abandoned cave system with seven other rowdy teenagers, trying her best to sit and not be noticed while a small bonfire flickered orange hues onto the cave walls in tantalizing patterns. As if the evening wasn’t hot enough.

To be fair, she didn’t consider herself close to any one of these people, minus Bethany--the girl who dragged Yomi to the party in the first place. A beautiful, bubbly female with dark skin and a personality that stretched on for miles. Saying no to such perseverance was impossible for Yomi, who wasn't the most assertive to begin with. One thing lead to another, someone mentioning the caves and a bonfire before piling eight troublemakers into a minivan. Yomi was, literally and figuratively, dragged into the situation. To say she went kicking and screaming was heavily exaggerated, but boy it sure felt like it. Beth was way too aggressive for her own good, and Yomi considered herself a push-over despite all the rules she set to make sure these kinds of situations didn’t happen.

Should have stayed home. Shouldn’t have come out here, but...

There was  hesitation, a reluctance that clung to the walls of her skull and refused to let go no matter how much reason was thrown at it. Was it really so wrong to want to try and be a teenager for once? To be out with people her own age, kissing the final year of high school goodbye with something silly and reckless. At least, in this case, she could have done better. They could have chosen a safer, cleaner, less illegal place to kick up her feet. But alas, idiotic minds seemed to think alike in these cases--There were very few voices of reason, and the loudest ones seemed to be those aching to be as reckless as possible.

“Come on, Em,” Jack’s slightly slurred words drew Yomi out of her thoughts, the drunken creature sitting on a rickety arm chair and sipping cheap beer--issue number one? Check. Underage drinking was by far her least favorite part of the evening, “Where’s your sense of adventure? Some hot springs, a little consensual nudity...what could be more fun?”

Jack was a twin, the other member of the set being his sister Ann. Yomi peered between the two as surreptitiously as possible, analyzing the similar shades of blonde hair and green eyes. They were both equally aggravating when it came to starting grievances in school, bouncing off each other like a very bad game of pong. Attractive, but in a similar way to things like poisonous frogs. Bright, shiny, masking jagged edges and toxic skin underneath all the pretty smiles and charismatic exteriors. Yomi knew well enough not to get close, but they were friends with Beth as well.

Jack was addressing Emma, one of the other girls Yomi knew was as reluctant to be there as she was. Voice of reason number one--Closer to the fire, sitting cross-legged on a thin blanket as she tried to ignore the men imploring her to go. She was the definition of tall and curvaceous, the flickering fire light casting shadows over her form from head to toe. Yomi almost rolled her eyes at the men frothing at the mouth--judging by Emma’s figure, their flimsy excuses were pretty obviously hiding their real reason for wanting her to come.

Emma was not oblivious.

“Eat shit and drown,” She held up her middle finger at Jack, shoving his face away when he tried to make pleading eyes, “I have to drive you dumb fucks home later. I’m not letting anyone into my car while wet, and if any of you try its an automatic pass to walking home.”

The caves weren’t an extreme distance from the small town they all lived in, but it was far enough that most of the fire-side listeners actively winced. 

Jack practically whined, those green eyes wide and pleading as he implored, “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Em…! Why would you wanna pass up on the healing experience?”

“You and I have very differing opinions on what is considered healing,” Emma retorted, sipping a bottle of soda and turning in a different direction, “I’m not here to dip into some glorified, stanky cave water. But by all means don’t let me stop you, Jackie. Just be prepared for the consequences of walking home on the interstate and explaining to the police chief why you’re out so late and dripping wet to boot.”

Several groans rang out, Jack flopping back in that chair and pouting like a sulking child. Drinking, as expected, turned the teen into the equivalent of a drunken toddler. Yomi still found herself sighed internally with relief, letting that curtain of hair fall forward to shield her face a bit. There were currently more girls than boys, so their dumb idea was overruled for the most part. But...she doubted that would be the case for long, not with a certain someone growing more and more intrigued with each passing second and gulps of alcohol. Bethany was the only one way too on board for her own good, eyes sparkling at the notion of even seeing a hot spring and spending time with the boys in general. She was such a smart girl, exceeding incredibly well in class and reaching top marks despite all the chaos she included herself in.

She just craved excitement far too much, compared to the girl she dragged along with her.

It seemed way too dangerous in Yomi’s opinion, especially considering these caves were abandoned for a reason. Mind you, they weren’t too far in. There was a large hole in the ceiling showing the night sky, venting the smoke so they wouldn’t spend the evening coughing and hacking. But the cave system further down had to be treacherous, carved out long ago by either flooding or miners, she wasn’t sure on the details to be completely honest. Each member of the town seemed to have their own take on just how the cave system got there. And with someone in the group walking with crutches, there was no way their desired spelunking adventure should come to pass, right?

Yomi looked at the girl in question, peering through the safety of her black and white hair to examine Mira’s face. 

Sitting opposite of her by the fire was the girl in question, seeming lost in thought while the others argued and laughed. She was pretty in an unconventional sort of way, with strong features and red hair cropped short at her shoulders. Out of everyone in the group, Mira being here was the only thing more surprising than Yomi herself--exploring in an abandoned cave system on forearm crutches was a terrible idea. After a car accident in freshman year, Mira had been through a slew of surgeries to fix extensive damage to her legs. It wasn’t perfect, but she could walk with the aid of a cane on occasion, more than that on others.. Out of everyone here, she was another one not drinking, sitting in a lawn chair with her scarred legs stretched out near the fire. Just close enough to warm her skin, the flickering flames casting dancing patterns over the roadmap of surgery marks, of cuts long healed and what had to be extensive pain. 

Strong.

Yomi admired her heavily, Mira had far more guts and determination than she ever could. It took strength to come back from what she endured, and even more so to keep going with an attitude of non-caring. Head held high, chin up, feet moving.

She seemed a tad bit annoyed with the boys as well, pushing her cropped red hair behind her ear and narrowing those emerald green eyes on Jack’s pouting face. He was still bitching, the alcohol making his words a bit sloppy.

“Didn’t take this lot to be a buncha pussies,” He complained, crushing the now-empty beer can against his thigh and tossing it to the side, “Came all this way and y’all won’t even follow through…!”

“Careful, Jack, your hick is showing.” Mira retorted, sipping innocently from a can of soda when he whipped his gaze over to her. She remained unperturbed, as always.

“Saying the word y’all isn’t hick,” There was a frown on his lips, mingled with intense disappointment as those rusty gears that made up his alcohol-soaked brain started to grind in thought, “That’s cowboy shit, right?”

His sister Ann, who was spread over a sheet on the dusty floor, let out a heavy groan at his words and pressed her hands to her face in absolute exasperation. It was very clear who was in ownership of the shared twin brain cell at that moment.

“Jack you are the most humiliating fucking person I have ever met,” She sighed, tone sounding so tired while everyone else cracked up laughing at Jack’s expense, “Cowboys are a southern thing you absolute twat.”

Yomi purposely looked away while the others started cackling, sipping from a can of soda and trying to focus on the sugary contents as a means of avoiding laughter herself. Jack was never the brightest bulb in the pack, and cheap beer made it all worse. Underage drinking was never a good idea, and the quiet girl hated it with a passion, so this was just proving every point she had created for herself. Bad behavior? Check. Enhancing foolish ideas to the point that they seemed like good ones? Check. Turning an already idiotic eighteen year old into a god damn man child? Two checks and a very exasperated Yomi there to write them in.

Jack puffed up like an angry cat, glaring daggers at his sister as he stammered, “W...well I knew that…! I was just, y’know…”

“Being a dumbass?” Emma provided helpfully, sitting back and leaning all her weight on her arms, “Baby steps, Jackie. You’ll reach the basic level of human intelligence someday.”

Yomi felt like that was heavily unlikely, but she kept her mouth shut, instead fiddling with the trim on her shorts while the group erupted again. There was certainly a lot of drinking going on with Jack, Ann, Beth, and Jake. Ann handled it a lot better than the boys did, but Beth was turning into a giggly sorority girl, which was definitely not a good thing. They were the loudest of the group when it came to laughing and joking, whereas Clark, Emma, and Mira were as calm as Yomi was. At least there were some sane people in the group. 

How much longer was it going to be before she could go home? Beth had lost all interest in her now that she was bouncing off the others, the girl’s choice to drink not sitting well with Yomi. Alcohol as a whole always put the quiet group member on edge, an extra reason why she wanted to be free of these idiots.

They’re not idiots, She reminded herself, shoulders slumping a bit at her own rude line of thinking, They’re being normal teenagers. You’re the odd one here.

Reprimanding herself was the only way to correct her own negativity toward others, so she tried to make it a habit. Yomi also tried to force herself to relax--this was supposed to be fun, right? She was out with kids her age, doing “crimes” and nibbling on fireside food late at night. Trying to look on the bright side of it, to find good in the bad. Given the choice, however, she wished there was less underage drinking involved.

“Now now, kids,” Clark’s baritone voice pulled her out of her musings, looking up to see the dark-skinned male stand up and brush off the dust, “How about we just walk around for a bit? Some basic spelunking, no swimming involved.”

The two other boys perked up at that, practically bouncing in the orange hue of the fire as they stood as well.

“I like that word,” Jake, the other group trouble maker and notoriously horny on main, purred as he slung an arm around Emma and dragged her up unwillingly--someone was going to lose a finger, Jake the best candidate, “Come on now, kitten, let’s go spelunking. Sounds sexy, amiright?”

Em made a visible face of disgust, firmly peeling his arm off of her and gripping to the point of pain. Made obvious by Jake’s yelp of alarm. 

“Call me kitten again, and you’ll be experiencing the joy of my size seven shoes up your ass.” She said in a sugary sweet tone, one that barely veiled the threat she was putting across.

He whined in response, yanking his arm back and rubbing his aching wrist. Everyone else seemed to be standing as well, easily convinced by Clark’s reasonable tone, much to Yomi’s absolute dismay. So much for not  exploring the caves. This was shaping to be an incredibly nerve-wracking evening, the dark tunnels plummeting into the Earth seeming intimidating and empty when she turned to gaze into them. It made the timid girl incredibly nervous, coming to her feet as well and gripping the edges of her blouse with firm fingers. They were already in a place they shouldn’t be, so why add the extra danger to the mix?

 Even Mira, the one who seemed like she shouldn’t be cave diving at all, was now on board. Not wanting to be left out from anything. Yomi contemplated giving her an imploring look, but thought against it. 

“Jake, you would find the word ‘hamper’ sexy. Get over yourself.” With that, the redhead struggled to her feet, limping across the cave with both hands firmly grasping the crutches on her arms. She seemed completely determined, those green eyes sharp and gait suggesting she wouldn’t be swayed in the slightest.

“Mira, hold on! Let me walk with you.” Clark scrambled up, boy scout instincts kicking in to make sure Mira didn’t fall to her doom somewhere. Yomi liked that about Clark-- that he genuinely cared about people. Only problem was that he was a negotiator, trying to find a middle ground for what everyone wanted.

Too bad what Yomi wanted was to go home and be free of this situation. But Clark didn’t know that, especially not with her too nervous to speak up. 

Jake made a face at Mira's back, sounding incredibly immature as he mocked, “Myeh myeh myeh, I'm Mira and have to be sarcastic all the time.”

He blew a raspberry, which was further evidence that not a single male in the group could handle drinking without morphing into a child. Yomi almost rolled her eyes. 

“Grow up, Jake.” Several of the girls said dryly in reply, sounding like a choir of reason in the face of such nonsense. All but Bethany, who was seeming to have a great time now that the spelunking operation was back on board.

This was starting to become tiresome--Yomi would have rather not sit there and listen to the banter that cropped up when Jake got into one of those moods again. Not to mention the fact that staying with Beth would only result in her being sucked into all the horniness they were carrying around. And shockingly enough...someone seemed to notice her exhausted expression before she managed to hide it. Emma had been staring across the cave at Yomi, those stern eyes searching and missing nothing, especially not with her knowing full well that Beth had played a big part in dragging the reluctant new member of the group along.

What Yomi didn’t expect was for her to actually act on it.

“Why don’t you guys go exploring without us?” The woman suggested helpfully to one half of the group, eyeing Mira as she clung to Clark a bit for support and sounding incredibly disapproving of the situation, “I’ll keep an eye on the dumbasses while they look for water, and to prevent any potential cave ins caused by Jake and Jack’s stupidity--”

Cave-ins?

“Hey!” Both boys protested, looking thoroughly chastised--like somehow the idea of them causing trouble was absolutely ludicrous.

“Regardless,” Emma interjected loudly, rolling her eyes at their ranging expressions of insult and annoyance, “I’d rather Yomi and Clarke make sure Mira doesn’t fall in somewhere, you’re the only ones other than me who are sober.”

Clark and Mira seemed surprised to even hear Yomi’s name, turning to look at her with mirrored expressions of shock as if her presence had been lost on them both. It occurred to her that pair had probably not talked to her in school much before, outside asking for help with a question or for borrowing a pencil. Hell, Yomi hadn’t said a word the whole trip minus occasionally mumbling to Beth, replying to her constant questions and cheerful banter as much as she could handle. So those expressions they wore should not be hurtful.

Right?

“Oh, cool, the more the merrier.” Clark said, awkwardly dithering behind Mira as she sought to walk further into the cave. Almost impatiently. The redhead looked eager for adventure, green eyes sparkling in the firelight as she nudged the bigger male’s arm with her forearm crutches.

Am I doing this right? Yomi wondered anxiously, keeping her eyes on Mira like observing the girl would somehow teach her the proper ways to act, Should I be excited instead of worried? Shouldn’t I want to do something risky?

While she fretted, everyone continued on obliviously. Beth had zero complaints with Em’s demands, seeming more than happy to walk around with the other guys in her drunken state. She smiled cheerfully, giving a small finger wave as Emma locked arms with her, “M’kay, we’ll meet back up here, yeah?”

She didn’t wait for Yomi’s response, turning and practically dragging Emma down a branching path. Thank god the more reasonable woman was going with them, to make sure no one did anything stupid. All of it was all too much to bear for someone like Yomi, the drunken state of her fellow classmates a bit too intimidating. She was grateful for that at the very least, they needed one reasonable person to make sure the skinny dipping didn’t happen, and to keep Beth safe and sound from such exasperating indivduals. 

Regardless, she turned when Mira pushed forward eagerly, trailing carefully behind while Clarke shadowed the redhead’s steps.  The heat of the bonfire slowly started to fade as they pushed through the jagged edges of the tunnel entrance, wary not to trip on a few huge rocks and pieces of the cave wall. All the while Yomi was trying to shake her sense of worry, scrambling to figure out just what to say to her two classmates. Why was this so hard? Once upon a time she had friends, close to so many people in elementary school until...well. Things had changed, so much had happened that it sometimes felt like her head was still spinning from the stress of all of it. There was solace in silence, one she had come to rely on far too much.

Luckily...it would not need to be thought about long, because someone took the reigns out of her hesitant hands and spoke. The same someone she had started looking to for any indication on how to be a normal human being. 

“Didn't want to listen to them either?” Mira asked casually as the light began to die away, sloping downwards into darkness and snapping Yomi out of her thoughts, “I don't blame you. The best people have brains in their heads...I think Jake has vodka instead.”

Clark snorted, laughing into his hand. At least he was finding amusement in this. She couldn’t help herself either--Yomi half smiled in agreement, surprised to find comfort in their company now that the more rowdy group members were separated and relieved that the other girl seemed at ease with drawing her into the conversation. Mira had the habit in school of saying the crass version of what everyone was thinking, speaking her mind at all times, but it was somehow...welcome, and accurate. Jake, best known for puking on his SAT thanks to a hangover, absolutely had a skull full of cheap vodka.

“I think you may be right,” Yomi replied, gaze turned away and pulling out her phone to light the path once it occurred to her how low the visibility was getting, “Do you guys think this is a good idea…? Maybe splitting up to go cave diving on abandoned property isn’t...the smartest.”

Mira let out a light laugh at that, leaning heavily on her cane as she replied, “This group isn’t known for their brains. Though I will say,” She gave Yomi a side-long glance, raising one delicate eyebrow at her, “Pretty surprised to see you at this little get-together. You never seemed to be the partying type.”

That made the girl wince, turning away from Mira’s searching eyes. She certainly had the knack for saying exactly what would make one squirm, which was fine when it wasn’t directed at the most nervous one of the group. There was a prolonged silence as Yomi thought over the comment in general, trying to gather the best thing she could say in response. This was the topic of the year, muttered in hallways with curious and skeptical eyes watching her. Why doesn’t Yomi “participate” in anything? Does she think herself to be better than everyone because of her family? To come out to a party such as this after three whole years of keeping to herself, trying desperately to stay under the radar--it was understandable that Mira would be curious.

Others were just too cowardly to ask.

“I...well...I wanted to try.” Yomi murmured in reply, feeling both sets of eyes on her as she stepped down over a lip in the path. She couldn’t remember ever speaking about this to anyone, keeping all the issues locked up tight without burdening another person. But in the dark of the caves, out of her element...something could change, right?

“Just for a day. To try and be... normal.”

Whether or not that made sense was the question, but Yomi didn’t think there would be anything to worry about on that front. They definitely understood what was being put across, there was no doubting that. She realized easily as she turned to watch Clark help Mira down the incline, meeting his now-sympathetic gaze and feeling a bit surprised by the serious expression he wore. It didn’t change much to send him into concerned, big brother mode it would seem. Those dark eyes were gentle in the dim lighting, reflecting the glow of her cell phone with a steady gaze meeting her own

“Is it hard,” He asked hesitantly, like the thought hadn’t entered his head before, “For you to be normal? Or rather...to feel normal.”

Mira pursed her lips, emerald-green eyes also glinting in the light from Yomi’s phone as she waited for the reply.

Yomi let out a light hum in response, meeting Mira’s steady gaze and trying to decipher the emotion there. Something akin to understanding, thoughtful in nature. Since she asked the original question, it felt only right to give such answers to her.

“Might sound  silly, but...it does,” Yomi admitted, feeling strangely at ease while talking to someone like the brash redhead. There was something about her, a silent camaraderie Yomi didn’t understand--maybe due to how much the troubled girl respected and admired her? Strong, steadfast and determined in everything she did. Mira was certainly not the type to judge, nor had she partaken in all the criticizing that went around the school. She simply felt...curious, “It felt easier to just stay quiet and get through school as fast as I could. I...wanted to try and have fun for once.”

Mira snorted, saying exactly what Yomi herself had thought previously in the evening, “Hard to call that shit fun. We could have stayed at Clark’s place, watching anime reruns and covering ourselves in crumbs from the safety of his couch.”

Yomi blinked in response. She had never been to Clark’s house before--the very notion of being able to was somehow strange, a nice change of pace. Her brain created its own images of someplace nice and cozy, domestic in comparison to the big, empty house she lived in on a daily basis. It sounded pleasant.

Mira’s words made their classmate smile, a flash of those pearly whites as he laughed, “You’re just saying that because you like my dog.”

“And what moron wouldn’t?”

Yomi hid her smile at their conversation, trying to instead focus on navigating the narrow path in the dark. It was eerily quiet in the caves besides the echoing words from the other two. No dripping water, no sounds of animals or anything at all. Didn’t caves have bats? Mice? Strange eldritch creatures hungering for their flesh? Her imagination was getting out of control, which needed to be halted before it got worse. The path was starting to widen a bit, the walls looking less craggy and jagged to...smooth? Almost curved at the top like an archway, air drifting in from their backs and overcoming the stagnant smell with the one of crackling firewood. This felt...odd--why was the floor so even, the walls spaced perfectly like the cave had been carved out long ago?

Maybe these were mining caves after all?

Yomi frowned a bit, feeling along the wall and noticing what looked to be something carved into the stone and rock. It was strangely out of place on the crumbling, misshapen tunnel--everything around it had long since been messed up by the earth shifting and changing, but it was only this area that seemed to remain untouched, smooth, undisturbed by nature or anything like that. Yomi probed her fingers further, turning the light on her phone to brighten up what she was feeling for further examination. But that only increaded the confusion, amping up the surprise when she saw first hand what her hands were touching.

Not cracks, not carvings. These markings were different than that, and far more precise.

It looked almost...runic, made up of intricately curved lines and shapes. They reminded her of something she had seen in a video game, or a fantasy movie with witches and wizards. It didn’t look chiseled either--almost like it was burned into the stone with lava or a razor thin torch. That...couldn’t be right though, could it? Was cave dwelling cultists another story told in town when people spoke of the caves? The memory wasn’t exactly there, which was somehow even more concerning. Someone definitely had to take the time to make such strange markings, it was incredibly intricate and beautiful in design. Who could have such dedication, to come into a dark cave and make something no one would ever see?

Yet here they were, seeing them.

This is so unbelievably bizarre.

“What’s wrong?” Clark asked, pulling out his phone as well to shine light on their feet. He took a few steps closer, leaning over Yomi’s shoulder to stare at the marking and letting out a low murmur of, “Wow, that’s strange. Never seen anything like it.”

An understatement to be sure. It was almost ridiculous, like something she would have seen in a movie or storybook.

Mira came up on the other side as well, leaning her weight against the white and black-haired girl without a care in the world. Yomi paused in surprise, not minding the sudden contact, but...it felt weird having people be so close.

“Maybe some dumb devil-worshipping teenagers were down here,” She said dismissively, eyeing the rest of the tunnel with a troubled expression despite her laid-back tone, “Did any of you see a sheep’s carcass on our way down? Candles? Shrines devoted to the dark Lord Satan?”

Clark clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “See now, that’s not funny.”

“I thought it was hilarious,” Mira smirked, shoving his shoulder with one of her crutches, “Lighten up, Superman. Most you have to be scared of down here is Jake’s wandering hands.”

Yomi sighed at their joking, pressing her fingertips to the marks and tracing out one of the more prominent lines. Satan worshipers was one thing, but in a small town like theirs people like that would have been incredibly obvious. Even then, what the hell did they use to get the marks so precise and small? It certainly didn’t  look carved, at least not to her eyes-- more like it was burned into the stone’s surface like a brand. But if there was any scorching, it was not found by her carefully searching eyes in the dark. Something about it felt ominous and strange--the hairs on the back of Yomi’s neck stood up, signalling to her that they should probably just turn back.

Skinny dipping was one thing, finding mysterious symbols in a dark tunnel was definitely outside her final walls of comfort. She had enough spooks for one day, that was for certain.

But when she turned to tell them that, Clark was pressing onward, sliding one hand along the wall and holding up his phone with the other. Mira was following slowly behind, managing fairly well on her forearm crutches and staring at what had now garnered the boy’s attention.

Yomi blinked, eyes widening when she saw more and more symbols lining the walls, different in their patterns and designs and now taking up almost every available space. What the hell was all of this? She quickened her step, keeping half of her focus on Mira to make sure the girl wouldn’t stumble, the other half on the newfound mystery. Marking after marking, curving up toward the ceiling and turning into swirling images as they danced over the curves and stone. Depicting otherworldly creatures, dragons and giant birds in flight as they clashed in the sky. 

They were beautiful, but wasted in a cave such as this.

“Where did these come from…?” Yomi murmured, tracing the patterns with each step and unable to understand any of it, “You would think someone else would have found these markings, but...No one mentioned them, did they?”

She spent a lot of her time observing and listening. Even when news of these caves spread, no one spoke of something such as this.

Clark frowned, his brow furrowing as he lost himself in thought, “Now that you mention it...I was told there was one tunnel system, not two paths. There was rubble around the one we took, the edges more jagged. Maybe this way was opened by a cave in?”

Yomi blanched, taking a very measured step backwards in the direction they entered in. If there had been a collapse before, it could very well happen again. Now that she thought about it, the entry way did have a bit of debris, and Emma had spoken of something like that being possible before herding the drunken members of the group away.

Not safe. We need to go.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Mira huffed, genuine concern on her face now as she mimicked Yomi’s motion and stepped backwards, “If cave-ins are a thing, we need to bounce. Too much danger for my liking.”

That was a hard agreement on Yomi’s part. She already felt uneasy about coming to an abandoned cave in the middle of the woods, especially when it was technically illegal. Mind you, kids had done it before and generally only got a slap on the wrists. But Yomi didn’t particularly want to be arrested, especially considering who she was. If she got arrested, if her step father and mother found out what she was doing…

Bad, very bad.

"Yeah, let's head back. We can go to my house," Clark gave Yomi a welcoming smile, putting a hand around Mira’s arm to hold her steady. "You can come too, if you want--my dog Ruby is a sweetheart, loves everyone. We call her Boobie.”

His words make Yomi pause, a hesitant delight blooming in her chest at how eager he was to try and be kind to her. Clark was known for being the friendly sort, but unlike Bethany he was nowhere near as pushy or forceful about it. A gentle giant, one who respected people’s personal space. Even people in their class who weren’t his friends know that he'd be there if they needed him, and having him extend that same courtesy to her despite the reputation floating around school…

I’m not used to this.

She opened her mouth to reply, trying to formulate some sort of coherent response or maybe ask if it was really alright with them, but something made her focus start to drift.

...What is that sound?

Yomi blinked, ears suddenly hyper-focusing on the cave around them in a brief second of clarity from the racing thoughts. It had been shockingly quiet in this area before, far from the crackling fire and rowdy classmates. No dripping water, no bats, nothing but the echos of their own voices bouncing further into the landscape. But now...something was there, making all three teenagers pause and glance at each other in confusion. It was low, so low that for a second Yomi thought she was imagining it, but it brought a sensation that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, vibrating the bottoms of her feet every so slightly. A humming, like a deep bass was vibrating through the cave and growing in quiet intensity. It was the sort of thing one could feel in their lungs, loud and quiet at the same time.

Mira shot a confused look at Yomi’s face, placing a hand on the wall while her forearm crutch dangled a bit. For whatever reason, it made the other girl mimic her action--the humming sensation felt like it was radiating from the walls, below their feet and rising upwards. Clark was the only one who didn’t seem compelled to touch the cool stone, shining his light down the tunnel with a worried expression on his face. What the hell was that sound? What is going on? So ominous, so...mysterious. Surely not from her fellow classmates, they had nothing that could cause something like this, not the pulsing waves of bass that seemed to vibrate from below.

Break...shatter to pieces. 

Was...that a voice speaking? The white and black-haired girl gasped, turning to look at Mira to see if she heard it too--the answer was a clear yes. Her green eyes met half-way with Yomi’s hazel gaze, filled with quiet alarm and fascination mingled in one. Clark was the only one who didn’t seem to hear it, still looking around with a perplexed gaze at the humming.

Break. Shatter.

Let us in.

I’m tired of waiting--I SAID BREAK.

A crackling sound suddenly range out, making Yomi flinch at the sudden shattering of silence and snapping her gaze to the ground. Bright, it’s bright--what is going on? A burst of light made them all gasp, the marks on the wall lighting up in a flash of purple energy that slithered through every curve, every line and circle all the way up into the ceiling with a searing howl that razed against her ears. It all happened so fast, so suddenly there was no room to react. As it traveled along her palm, Yomi yelped at a flash of heat, falling back and jerking her hand to her chest in unison with Mira. It stung terribly, like pressing against a hot brand under her skin was sizzling from the wound of it.

What the fuck was that?

Both girls stared in shock, Clark putting himself behind them to make sure neither fell onto the floor. Yomi felt her back hit his chest when she reared back, his heartbeat fast and just as alarmed as hers was as he stared in mute shock at the glowing runes all over the walls.

Quick as it came, the light left, traveling up to the images on the ceiling and disappearing in a flash of sizzling violet. Every hair on Yomi’s arms was standing on end, heart pounding in her chest and hand stinging terribly. What was that? What the fuck just happened? The air felt charged, like static electricity and smelled of something...strange, like nothing she had ever encountered before. There was no mistaking that it had happened, all three classmates stood huddled in a state of shock as the humming subsided ever so slightly. Mira breathing heavily, Clark’s hands firm on their shoulders as he held them as steady as he could with shaking fingers.

Something had just happened, something none of them understood.

“Holy shit,” Mira whispered, leaning against Yomi and wincing as she lifted her injured hand. Yomi stared in shock at her palm, seeing the same markings from the wall seared into her flesh--upon looking at her own, the girl was met with the same image. The skin around the wound tingled, charged with an inexplicable energy that made her whole hand uncomfortable, “What the fuck was that? You all saw that, right? I didn’t hallucinate some weird fucking energy burning my hand.”

Yomi shook her head, taking in a shaking breath as she stared at the stinging mass of markings now on her flesh, “N...no...we all saw it…” She turned her gaze to stare down the tunnel, hearing that same humming still radiating ever so slightly further along, “I’ve never seen anything like that...never.”

It had been...frightening, but incredible at the same time. Exhilarating, like an adventure she had never been allowed to have. 

And shockingly enough, Mira was feeling the same way. When Yomi returned her gaze to the red-headed girl, she saw her own excitement echoed there, growing in intensity as she too seemed to registered that they had been apart of something strange, something beyond their realm of understanding. Injured or not, it was outside the normativity of their everyday lives, and that was...was…

I want to understand this. I want to know more.

Clark was the only one who was visibly shaken from the incident, not sharing in their excitement as he stammered, “W...we should probably go...That shit isn’t normal, and you both are burnt…!” He took a step back, watching to make sure Mira had properly adjusted her crutches before pulling out his phone, “I’m gonna call Em and make sure she and the others are alright--let’s get going and tend to your wounds.”

Mira let out a light huff, wincing when she tried to grip the crutch with her injured palm and hanging back as Clark took a few steps in the direction they came from, “Hang on now--Aren’t you even a little curious? The walls were glowing, they burned like fire…!”

The eager redhead slid past Yomi, walking a bit awkwardly now that she was trying not to grip the one half of her crutches. Her gaze was locked on the markings, barely illuminated by her companion’s phone as she moved a bit further down the tunnel. Meanwhile, the more timid member of their group was torn, watching her actions and unconsciously trailing behind. Her brain was screaming at her to go back to safety, to leave before things got even worse--the mark burned into flesh would scar, a permanent reminder of this day, and yet she didn’t care. Mira was excited about what was going on...maybe it meant she could feel that way too? Maybe it was normal to want to understand the unknown.

But Clark wasn’t convinced, the only voice of reason as he turned to look at them a few feet away, “Not a chance--not where our safety is involved…!”

Maybe he’s right. Yomi frowned, still holding her injured hand cupped with the other one. Maybe another day, maybe after talking to the others about what happened? Leaving felt disappointing, but...some things were more important than discovery, right? The need to learn more, the curiosity swirling in her gut was so strong she almost spoke up on Mira’s behalf, pleading with Clark to let them look a little bit further. She was never the type to ask for things, it always felt so selfish. Especially now, with danger thrown into the mix.

How could Yomi possible hope to demand anything if it meant endangering the lives of both the people with her? It was not fair.

She instead returned her gaze to Mira, reading the same unhappiness there that she felt and returning it in kind. Both shared a silent moment of understanding, hazel staring into green, Yomi’s hesitant desires plain and clear on her face. The redhead looked ready to speak, spurned on even more by her classmate’s fellow eagerness.

But it was short lived, Clark’s words punctuated like fate itself was scolding them for their hesitation.

A loud rumble started shaking the cave, all three letting out varying cries of alarm and stumbling on their feet. Loud, everything was so loud--stone rattling, cracking, grinding with the force of the tremors rocking the small space.Yomi heard screams echo from the other side of the cave, bouncing all the way down to their tunnel and signalling that the others were feeling the tremor too--a cave in? Earthquake? There was so much was shaking, like the stone under their feet was shifting back and forth and threatening to make the unsteady girl fall to her knees. Clark tumbled back behind them, his phone clattering onto the floor but barely heard through the chaos surrounding the fearful students.

Yomi instinctively whipped around to look at Mira, reaching out to the girl as she screamed and started to fall in the dark. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for a moment--Yomi reaching, Mira falling, room rumbling...she’s still falling, further than she should. Yomi’s finger’s gripped one of the redhead’s arms, a slow sense of dread and alarm growing when she continued to plummet. Beyond the floor, beyond the--the floor is gone. The realization came too late, the shock snapping through her as it registered why the floor was so dark. It had given way, crumbling into nothingness and sending Mira into a free-fall.

A cave in, ground subsidence, Yomi’s head screamed at her, every warning bell going off as she prepared to hold Mira’s weight, She’s going to fall, she’s going to--

But when she tried to steady her weight, she felt it--a cracking underneath her feet. Yomi scrambled, a cry of alarm lodging in her throat as the cave in shattered more of what once appeared as solid stone. It bottomed out with a loud grinding sound, sending the frantic girls into a plummeting down toward the empty abyss. There was no true way to describe it, the feeling of falling with absolutely no purchase for her hands or feet. She’s going to die--we’re going to die. There was nowhere to grab onto, no footing, no nothing. Just empty space that her free fingers clawed for, eyes locked on their descent and hoping to god that Clarke was far enough away not to be pulled into it. Her palm was flaring in pain where it held Mira’s arm, the girl’s cries loud in her ears over the rushing of blood and adrenaline. 

But she still heard him as they fell, Clark’s scream of fear and horror as more stone collapsed over where they once stood.

“No…! Yomi! Mira…!”

Neither could response. All Yomi could do was cling to the other girl, heart pounding in her ears and a choked cry of terror lodged in her throat as the air rushed past.

As they plummeted into the nothingness.

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[sodomyordeath]

Queen of Drags

Finally the post many of you asked for since the show went into heavy promotion.

This is going to be long. To keep this from being too boring I decided to publish it in form of an ongoing conversation between myself and the one and only Chiara.

Me: So let’s start with the cast and the jury.

Chi: On the jury side we have Conchita Wurst.

Me: Guess we have to disclaimer this?

Chi: She’s our friend, She knows and loves Drag and is a talented and amazing performer. So disclaimer done.

Me: Next we have Bill Kaulitz.

Chi:  Wasn’t he in some kinda child band?

Me: Yep Tokio Hotel, they are still around. he was also a judge on an music casting show back in the early 2010s. 

Chi: Garbage music[1]?

Me:  “Deutschland sucht den Superstar”. So nothing you or I would call music.

Chi: Right. Garbage music.

Me: And we have guest judges.

Chi: One per show right?

Me: Yea even in the final episode. They use a point system. Each of the for judges awards points. The highest number per episode is the number of contestants left.

Chi: The lowest is one or 0?

Me: Normal people start with one.

Chi: So decimal system than?

Me: Smartass.

Chi: I am smart and I have an amazing ass.

Me: No arguing with that.

Chi: So who are the guest judges?

Me: In order of appearance:  Olivia Jones, Amanda Lepore, Leona Lewis,  Pabllo Vittar, La Toya Jacksona and for the final Laganja Estranja

Chi: So 4 judges that know there shit and 2 professional singers. That’s a lot better than a typical Drag Race season.

Me: Yes and they actually do matter due to the point system they used.

Chi: So what do you expect from our 3 permanent judges?

Me: Obviously the best insights will come from Conchita and some of the guests. Bill will focus on overall performance aspects, stage placement, lip-sync etc. and Heidi... well looks and she brings the “girl at the drag bar” perspective.

Chi: Well we cheated here didn’t we?

Me: Yes because that was how it played out and Conchita felt like kind of the head judge the entire season but what we expected because of the pre show PR was Heidi dominating the show and giving us her model casting show 2.0.

Chi: Did Pro 7 fuck it up with the trailer where they framed Heidi as the head judge?

Me: Well at this point in time I don’t think they tried to provoke the backlash they got. They just tried to frame the show in a way so there usual audience sees someone they are familiar with.

Chi: So you don’t think the baited the queer community and press into a push back just to get the buzz going?

Me: You mean a PR campaign that would exploit a marginalized community to sell a commodity? That would by cynical!

Chi: ...

Me: Moving on. Let’s talk about the artists.

Chi: I honestly didn’t know much about any of ‘em.

Me: Not even your “home girl”?

Chi: Do I have to remind you that I’m from Zurich and  Hayden Kryze is from Bern? Plus I wasn’t in Switzerland for an awful lot of time in the last 2 years.

Me: Right and she's rather young isn’t she?

Chi: 20

Chi: Speaking of age Catherrine Leclery is the oldest cast member with 48 and seems to be the one who’s in the business the longest, Hayden is the youngest.

Me: Hmm, what I noticed is that anyone but Catherrine is under 35.

Chi: I feel old now.

Me: I knew about the 3 Berlin girls but never worked with any of ‘em. 

Chi: That’s Bambi Mercury a bearded queen not related to our friend Bambie the high priestess of gore. Candy Crash a funny bitch who paints her face on youtube and the “infamous” Katy Bähm.

Me: You know Candy had me when she renamed Katy into “Käthe Baum”

Chi: *lough crying* me to bitch!

Me: But really Candy is a miracle she managed to age 5 years since she was in a documentary in 2018 

Chi: *sings* Forever Young, I want to be... forever.. 

Me: Still I like her and people I know, who worked with her, like her.

Chi: Too bad she doesn’t make wigs...

Me: *spills drink* *side eyes Chiara*

Me: Looks like we both are not turning into Käthe Baum fans any time soon.

Chi: I learned a saying from the southern United States “Bless her heart”

Me: Moving on. Janisha Jones.

Chi: We didn’t know her before the show

Me: But our good friend Ephe Drine knows her and as a Munich queen with spanish roots (like Ephe) she’s somewhat of my “home girl”.

Chi: We did run into her however and she’s a lovely person,an true artist by heart and a way better drag performer than it came across on the show.

Me: She sadly was the first one that went home but if you get a chance to see her. Do it. She doesn’t disappoint.

Chi: Next up is Samantha Gold.

Me: Oh yea our full figured Bar Queen from Hamburg with Austrian roots.

Chi: Old school drag. She was the second one out. 

Me: She did sing live on episode one and her performance was...

Chi: ...not as strong as we would have expected from someone who does that for a living.

Me: Moving on.

Chi: Now my “home girl” Hayden Kryze.

Me: She’s young.

Chi: She sure has talent but it felt...

Me: Aimless and her performances where sloppy

Chi: Unpolished. She sure can move and the whole “I can be a manly man but also a hot drag queen” segment was...

Me: She’s young

Chi: Speaking of young Aria Addams.

Me: Not related to my drag daughter Wendy Addams

Chi: That we know of. I mean age wise she could be hers.

Me: And they sure have the same fire and undeniable talent.

Chi: She was the big one for me. She grew episode to episode was never afraid to try something new and wasn’t annoying. I’d love to work with her at some point.

Me: Speaking of people one wants to work with, Vava Vide.

Chi: I had no idea that there even was a drag scene in Stuttgart.

Me: There were 3 standouts in the cast when it comes to drag as visual performative art form, Vava Vide, Bambi Mercury and, to a lesser degree, Aria Addams.

Chi: I do agree but I would also include Janisha. Alas her time on the show was too short for her to really show it.

Me: We are missing one.

Chi: You clearly had a nap under the shade tree my love. You forgot Yoncé Banks, the first Queen of Drags.

Me: Oh you are right but I really forgot about her because, and that’s just me, her kind of pretty girl drag packaged with rather limited dance performances and the most questionable tuck since Jade Sotomayor on Drag Race season one is very very boring to me.

Chi: You never tuck.

Me: I don't do pretty girl drag so I don't have to.

Chi: ...

Me: Come on it’s not only the tuck it’s the fact that her tucker underwear was clearly visible ever single episode. Make sure that your stage outfits do fit kids.

Chi: So you don't agree with her winning?

Me: Well, and that once again is just me, she’s a one trick pony that never stepped out of her comfort zone in any meaningful way and she should have gone home for her Horror/Halloween performance.

Chi: You sound like Michelle Visage.

Me: Oh my dark lord you are right.

Chi: lol

Me: Anyway I would have loved to see Aria Addams win because from the top 3 she has the most potential and showed the most growth.

Chi: I have to admit for all the lip service production was paying to Drag as an art form during the season and even when the sent the other “pretty girl”  Katy Bähm home over Bambi Mercury I had hope. Handing the win to  the rather conventional Yoncé Banks felt like a let down.

Me: That’s what I’m saying. It felt like “We want a mainstream compatible winner for our sponsors.” and the medical problems Aria had sure helped create the perfect pretext to do just that.

Chi: My background is in marketing and the cynical voice in my head does agree with you but do we really want to know?

Me: Does it actually matter in the end? I think not. This show sure had it shortcomings but it managed to do 2 things. First it felt a lot more relaxed and “real” than Drag Race ever did. I loved it when they all went out partying. Second to give the German public an idea of how wide contemporary drag as an art form is.

Chi: On the competition side I liked the point system they used. I loved Conchita who was an amazing head judge and all the guests did really really well. Amanda Lepore is in deed one of the sweetest humans alive and Laganja Estranja is a grown up now.

Me: And she single-handedly gave a masterclass in how a dance focused Drag performance looks in 2019.

Me: There was a little too much crying for me and we never got into any depth about the problems we as a queer people face. Only this snippets with the “same old same, old” mainstream media always pulls when they talk about us.

Chi: That’s a narrative problem in wider media and the editing sure felt exploitative in some parts. Especially you as a long time activist pick up on such things almost intuitively.

Me: Yes it felt a little odd that Katy’s sob story had more screen time than real activists like Vava got and I absolutely loved it that Bambi refused to part take in the trauma navel gazing.

Chi: Oh yes Bambi had a couple of power moves in this season and I love the fact that she had the trans flag on stage with her in her opening performance.

Chi: Any last words?

Me: Aria Addams should have won the title. Candy Crush should have stayed longer and the top 3 should have been Aria Addams, Vava Vide &  Bambi Mercury because I greatly enjoyed what they brought to the table.

Chi: I’m not mad that Yoncé Banks won but I’m underwhelmed by it. I want to put the focus a little on  Catherrine Leclery[2]. She was never afraid to try something new and turning her Fairytale performance into a political statement about the rights of Indigenous people to a fucking Disney musical song was very very smart.

Me: Over all where do we stand?

Chi: Better than expected. The artistry was there the talent was there the presentation was fine for the most part. Going clubbing and having that spa night made this show more real and honest than all seasons of Drag Race combined.

Me: They did have a budget for the show and they used it well. For the future I hope they can get rid of some of this tired reality TV tropes like this fake and over exaggerated conflicts and keeping around contestants because they are a source of drama. I want to see the performances in full not this snippets that look like they’ve been edited by an hyperactive 10 year old who got his hands on 6 cans of red bull. Season 2 will show if it will evolve or turn into the usual shit show that passes as tv entertainment these days.

Chi: I fully agree.

Me: Congratulations to Yoncé Banks for being the first “Queen of Drags”

Chi: Congrats!

Picture: Martin Ehleben / ProSieben

Instructions: To get our voices right read her lines with a Swiss accent and mine with a Bavarian one.

Note: The content of the post is edited together from conversations Chiara and I had over the last couple of weeks since the Show started airing. I translated and rephrased when needed so she ends up sounding a bit like me at some points. I’m sorry about that. 

[1] For those of you reading this and are not in the know we both are multi instrumentalists and vocalists with a spectrum from delta blues & early jazz all the way to technical death metal and post industrial 

[2] She hails from Brazil with black and Indigenous roots

[edward-richtofen-queen]

Beyond The Veil [Part 2 of 2]

Masterlist

Part 1 ← | Part 2 ↓

✼⋅•⋅•⋅⊱•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•∙∘❆༓❆∘∙•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⊰⋅•⋅•⋅✼

After moments of unbearable pain, Julie woke up covered in dried tears and distress—had Susie just betrayed her in the blink of an eye without even letting her explain? The pain eased away into nothing as she numbly stared into the fire, unpleasant memories from her first kill flooding back into her mind.

Muffled cries left Julie's lips as an unfamiliar man grabbed her by the back of her jacket as a hand cupped over her mouth. It had been a dare from Frank that lead them here, and now Julie was being held against her will by what seemed to be the janitor. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she struggled to get free from the man's grasp only to hear the man cry in pain as she was let go and met with cold tile to her face.

"We've got to kill him now—go on," Frank demands, Julie standing up to stare at the now bleeding man on the floor. Joey was the first to react, swiping the blade from Frank's bloodied hand and stabbing the cleaner in his ribs as he let out a pained whine. Joey gestured the knife to Susie, whom only shook her head. "I—I can't do it," She whispered, looking away from the knife and the body. Frank clenched his teeth, his voice raised as he spoke, "We've got to finish what we started, Susie! You can't pussy out now, it's too late."

Julie took the knife from Joey, closing her eyes and sliding the blade into the man's chest as he sobbed out once more—quietly this time. Susie, with eyes wide looked at Julie with scared eyes as Frank took her hands and stabbed the knife into the man's throat to end his suffering. Silence filled the small store as they sat there to admire or grimace, Frank barking orders as Julie and Susie mopped while Joey helped Frank with the body. Murder was never an easy task as they loaded the body into the back of Joey's truck, leaving the crime scene as if nothing ever happened.

Ever since that day, Julie was wasn't very keen of surprises—let alone being hugged or touched from behind or on her back.

Julie hadn't kept track of time, her eyes glistening with tears and reflecting the licking flames of the campfire. Her face had been wiped of all emotions, a hollow shell of a woman. Patting her dried tears from her face, her lips were drawn in a line as she stared blankly up at the sky. Her heart ached and pulsed in pain, having been betrayed by one of her own friends. "Julie?" The sweet southern accent made her internal pain ease—she decided that mute was the way to go, using her eye quite like her mouth was used.

Eyeing the singer, Kate flinched back—her face was blank but her eyes were a wreck of emotions. Sadness pitted with anger and despair pooled in her orbs as she turned away, having looked to long. "You're upset," Kate spoke, sitting close but not too close to Julie for a little comfort. Julie was still an unknown factor—she was never emotional during trials, and everyone acted different when expressing varying emotions. "I understand, Julie. I'm guessing one of your previous friends was in trial?" Kate gave a light frown as she saw Julie flinch—they must've done something to her to make her act this way.

"Anythin' I can do ta' help?" She asked sweetly again, pulling out her guitar to strum some type of ambience to ease the tension laying a blanket over the camp. Julie shook her head as Claudette came to sit next to Kate. "Is she okay?" Her soft sweet voice made Julie glance over at the chocolate colored girl, a sweet little smile painting her face as she waved to Julie. Fixing her glasses with a finger, Kate shook her head. "She's a bit upset so I'm tryin' ta' help," The singer explains as Claudette nods.

Gasping, Claudette disappears for a moment and returns with an object in her hands. Julie stiffened as an the object was placed on her head, a giggle escaping the botanist's lips. "You look adorable in a flower crown, sweetie," She spoke, Julie's fingers feeling up her hair to touch the weaved crown. A small little smile made Kate beam, holding out a hand for Julie to take. "You feel a little better? I want ya' ta' meet the others properly and stay for girl's night—you up for it?"

Feeling a little more confidence, Julie took the hand as both woman led her to a corner of the campsite.

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

Julie had lost count of the trials she went through, going up killers she remembered making friends with. She was sacrificed once or twice for being altruistic, but was still happy to play out of her comfort zone for a little while. Kate, Claudette and Nea became her temporary friends.

Alas, she was being taken back to murder once more.

The small group of girls had been chatting, making conversation about The Shape or Michael after a scare of him having Infinite Tier Three. Trials were done for the day and decided to do something fun as Claudette taught Julie how to weave crowns and Julie learned a couple more songs. When fog crept to Julie's leg, a sense of sadness fell over her. "It looks like it's my time," She announced, fixing her hoodie as they gave her a side hug. "Will you let us go when we see you again?" Nea asks jokingly, fixing the beanie atop her head as Julie laughed. "I'll think about it. I'll see you in trial!"

With glowing orange and black claws, The Entity dropped her back in Ormond—her home. The air was flooded with white, cold bliss spilling on her pale fingertips—how she missed home. Walking into the large resort, the crackling of the old fashioned oven/fireplace brought the only warmth they had in this cold land but she was used to it. Her mask in place over here face, she felt tears rushing down her eyes again—how would she be able to keep her composure now that her best friend had the audacity to kill her in cold blood? Had being around her that long not given her enough time to memorize her features?

Sitting on the couches around the fireplace sat Joey and Frank, whom now noticed their pale friend. "Julia?" Frank's warms voice made Julie break into a sob, throwing herself between both men and removing her mask to place on the table. Joey and Frank gave each other worried glances as her face dived for Joey's neck, sloppy wet tears dripping down his skin. Scooting closer, Frank and Joey comforted Julie as she wept and wept. Whispering words of comfort, her tears eventually ran dry as she grew tired, Joey holding her close as she cuddled him. Wiping her tears from her cheeks, she looked peacefully as she gave a broken kind of smile as she slept.

"She was gone for a full day and came back crying," Frank muttered to Joey as Julie sniffled in her sleep, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Susie said something about an imposter—you think it was Julie but Susie couldn't remember?" Joey asked as Frank shrugged, stroking her hair with cautious fingers. "Probably—you think Susie has Capgras? She knows Julie by her voice but she does tend to forget her face." Joey huffed, holding Julie as she whispered in her sleep.

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

When Julie awoke, her fingers brushed up against leather fabric and the smell of sandalwood filled her nose—she has been cuddling with Joey, hadn't she? "Morning, Sunshine," Joey's voice spoke from above her, legs sprawled and tangled together as she looked up at him. "Hey Joey," She smiled as he hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she blushed. "How long was I out?" Julie asked as Joey flipped his wrist to look at his watch. "A good hour or so—you good?" He asked as she nodded, removing herself from his embrace.

Walking up the steps, Julie completely ignored the pink haired girl as she stopped at the door. Susie immediately went after her as she leaned against the railing, a regretful look on her face. "Julie?" Susie's voice came to her as no response was given a hefty sigh leaving her pink lips. "Julie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't believe you—you were suddenly gone and you didn't look like you to me." Susie explained, fingers twirling her thumbs as she went to speak again only to not have words. A twitch in Julie's eye made Susie flinch slightly, her sudden movements angered and serious.

"You're telling me in all the time that we've been friends, you forgot what I looked like?" Tears dripped down her cheeks as she spoke, fingers holding her arms as she shook. "You said you'd never hurt me, Susie. You broke your promise to me—our friendship promise! How am I supposed to believe you anymore? I even quivered when you touched my back! You know I hate it when people touch my back! Ever since that night, I can't be touched on the back. I thought you knew this, because i thought you knew me!" Sobs racked her frame as she finished venting, fingers covering her eyes as guilt washed over Susie.

Julie hadn't been this emotional in a very long time, anxiety of being judged always a thing to worry about in high school. Multiple steps hurried up the stairs as Susie hugged Julie gently, careful around her back. "I was an idiot, I didn't tell you guys I had Capgras Syndrome—I didn't think it would come back to haunt me. I'm sorry, Jules," Susie sniffled, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheeks as she stifled her sobs. Joey's chocolate hands cupped Julie's cheeks, Julie leaning into his warmth as Frank held her hands.

"I love you—all of you," Julie spoke, blinking away her tears and smiling warmly. Frank chuckled, pecking her lips. "Of course—we're The Legion, loving each other through and through. Isn't that right?" Joey and Susie hummed in agreement as she melted into their combined embraces.

Maybe that back thing didn't matter that much anymore...

[atc74]

The Promise - Prepare for Battle

Square Filled: Kidnapping

Warnings: angst, name calling, self hatred, kidnapping, dead relatives

Summary: After their confrontation with Sam upon his return from the cage, Y/N decides she will never let herself be vulnerable again. Dean can only support her and make sure she is taken care of, but a fight is coming, will they be ready?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, former Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1647

Written for: @spngenrebingo (card 2)

Beta’d by: @hannahindie

A/N: This is the sequel I said I wouldn’t write. I was very happy with how The Promise ended, but alas, here we are. I found this fit into my own challenge for Fearless Females in Fanfiction as well as my SPN Genre Bingo card. I hope you like this, and because I am a glutton for punishment, there will be a third part...eventually. 

Y/N decided she would never be that vulnerable again. She was ashamed that she let Sam hurt her like that. Never again would she break down because of a few hateful words. She was better than that, stronger than that.

She started training the next day. Dean wouldn’t run with her but he didn’t want her out alone, so they worked out at home, together. Sparring, cardio, everything they could come up with to keep themselves in prime hunting shape.

Y/N pushed herself farther than Dean had ever seen her go before. He was proud of the hunter she had become and had always been a little protective of her, but now that she was set on getting back into hunting shape, Dean was worried because he knew the reasons why. They had given up hunting, but with Sam showing up the way he did, it left both of them on edge. If Sam could find them, then the monsters could too.

Dean watched her attack the heavy bag in the makeshift gym they had set up. He worried about her, sure, but he knew she could take care of herself in a fight. What concerned him most was that she was forgetting to eat and sleep, the punishment she was putting herself through driving her.

“Sweetheart, you gotta take a break,” Dean entered the room, holding the bag to get her attention.

“In a bit,” she panted heavily as she took another swing at the bag.

“Y/N! Enough!” he yelled. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, you need to eat and sleep.”

“You don’t get it Dean! Sam is back but something is wrong. Something is going to come after us with all the Winchesters topside now, don’t you see that?” she screamed at him, her tape covered hands balled into fists.

He took a step toward her and lowered his voice. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. Hell, I am too. But working yourself ragged isn’t going to help. If and when the fight comes to us, you’ll be too exhausted and that makes you an easy target.”

She broke down, too tired to argue with him anymore. She stumbled forward, his strong arms catching her as she gave in to all of it; the pain, the tears, the fear.

Dean carried her to the bathroom and helped her strip down before he climbed into the shower with her. As the hot water beat down on her sore, aching muscles, Dean massaged her scalp with the fancy shampoo Sam had given her once upon a time. The suds floated down her back and into the drain as he rinsed them from her hair. He gently scrubbed her body with her favorite wash. She watched as those bubbles too disappeared.

“So what are we going to do, Dean?” she turned to face him, her eyes now puffy from the tears she had shed. “Do you propose we just wash all our troubles down the drain so easily like the water and sweat?”

“No, I’m not. But we need to rest, too. When the time does come to fight, we’ll be ready,” Dean promised. He turned the water off and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. “Now let’s get dressed and eat. I made dinner.”

After a hot meal and a strong drink, they were both ready for bed and headed that way. Y/N snuggled into Dean’s side as he played with her hair.

“I’m sorry for acting like a crazy person for the last two weeks. I know it can be easy for you to watch me head down that path again, only in a different way when we lost Sam. I just have this nagging feeling that something is wrong with him. He’s broken, Dean,” her breath shuttered as she spoke, Dean just pulled her closer.

“I’ve got Bobby and Cas working on it, Y/N. They’ll figure it out, okay,” he breathed in the scent of her. “I don’t want to see you hurt, but all I can do is be here to support you. And if that means working out, feeding you, and making sure you sleep, I’ll do whatever you need.”

“I love you,” she whispered in the night.

“I love you, Sweetheart. Now let’s get some shut eye,” Dean suggested, turning on his side and wrapping both his arms around her. He would do anything to protect her, even if that meant dying.

“Good, you’re dressed. Now get up,” Cas’s deep voice rang out their their bedroom and they both bolted upright. Dean had his gun pointed at Cas’s chest, while Y/N pulled her angel blade from under the pillow.

“What the hell Cas?” Dean shouted as he leapt from the bed. “I could have shot you!”

“You can’t hurt me, Dean,” Cas replied.

“I know that, but what are you doing here?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Something is coming,” Cas warned. “I need to get you out of here.”

“No, Cas. We won’t leave. We are not letting anything drive us out of our house!” Y/N stood, defiant against Cas’s plan.

“She’s right, Cas,” Dean agreed moving to stand next to her, united. “We stay and we fight.”

“Then prepare for battle, my friends,” Cas instructed and left the room.

“If we go down, at least we’ll go down fighting,” Y/N turned to Dean, taking his face in her hands.

“Together,” Dean vowed, pressing his lips to hers. “Now let’s suit up.”

Within minutes, Dean and Y/N were dressed and pulling weapons from the hidden compartment under the stairs. Silver bullets, machetes, angel blades, anything they could carry. Cas waited for them in the kitchen.

“What’s coming, Cas?” Dean brewed a pot of coffee before speaking.

“I don’t know, exactly. There have been rumblings of everything from vampires to werewolves to djinn, all waging war. I should warn you, there has also been talk of something kidnapping monsters. We don’t know how or what they are doing with them, but something is happening,” Cas straightened his tie like it was the most normal conversation in the world.

“Monster-napping? How is that even a thing? What happened to just killing the evil sons a bitches and calling it a win?” Dean scoffed pouring a cup of coffee.

Cas turned to the front of the house, his body stiffening. Y/N noticed the change immediately and readied herself. Dean watched her posture and mimicked it. “What is it?”

“Something’s here,” Cas boomed, then was gone in a flurry of wings. “I’ll take the front. Go!”

“Back door,” Dean ushered her out of the house and down the back steps. As they turned the corner of the house, Sam blocked the path.

“Where do you think you’re going, Dean? Taking your whore with you,” Sam sneered.

Y/N reeled back and hit Sam straight in the jaw with a right hook, while Dean looked on. “I told you before, you don’t get to call me a whore!”

Before Dean had the chance to be proud of her, they were surrounded. A group of three men and one woman formed a circle, with Sam closing it. “Dean, meet the Campbell's.” Then the lights went out.

~*~

“Where the fuck are we?” Dean grumbled, coming to in a what appeared to be a broken down, abandoned house. He was tied to a chair, but the knot work was sloppy as he tired to loosen his bindings. The room was poorly lit, but Dean could just make out Y/N’s lifeless body a few feet from him. “Y/N! Sweetheart, you gotta wake up!”

A muffled groan sounded through the room as she tried raise her head to look at Dean. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, but Sam is involved and I think some distant relatives,” Dean’s answer was sharp and clipped as he looked for an escape, continuing to work the knots. Within a couple of minutes, he had freed himself and hurried to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Did they drug us?’ she was groggy, her mind fuzzy.

“Yeah, they did. Come on, we have to find a way out,” Dean whispered as he helped her to her feet. “Cas? We could really use your help, Buddy.”

Just as they reached the door, it swung open, one of the men that had taken them blocking their escape. “Well, well, what do we have here?” He laughed, pushing Y/N back into the room, a gun aimed at Dean’s chest.

“You touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking lungs out!” Dean bellowed.

“Empty threats, Dean-o,” he whistled.

“Yeah, but what about me, douchebag?” Y/N called and as he looked her way, she landed a roundhouse kick to the side of his head, knocking him to the ground, out cold. “If you kick me when I am down, you better pray I don’t get up, asshole.”

“That’s my girl!” Dean beamed with pride, but it wouldn’t be long before the commotion drew attention and Dean knew they had to get out of there. Praying for Cas didn’t seem to be working, but he kept trying.

“This way,” Y/N pulled Dean along the wall with her as they left the room where they had been held captive. They crept along the wall, not seeing another soul on the same floor.

Dean was worried. “This is too easy, Sweetheart. It has to be a trap.” No sooner had the words left Dean’s mouth, when an evil laugh could be heard behind them.

“I knew you were smarter than you looked,” the voice taunted them.

Dean turned, his hand still holding Y/N’s and faced their captor.

“Samuel?” Dean was dumbfounded.

“Do you know this man, Dean?” Y/N squeezed his hand in hers.

“He’s my grandfather, Samuel Campbell,” Dean told her. “He died in 1973.”

The Whole Enchilada: @closetspngirl @emoryhemsworth @iwantthedean @meganwinchester1999 @sis-tafics @wilde-abandon @wegoddessofhell @holyfuckloueh @horsegirly99blog @smoothdogsgirl @dolphincliffs @thisismysecrethappyplace @neeadinghugs @roxyspearing @theoriginalvicki @andkatiethings @mrswhozeewhatsis @linki-locks11 @evansrogerskitten @hennessy0274-blog @hobby27 @kdfrqqg @gh0stgurl @charliebradbury1104 @blacktithe7 @the--blackdahlia @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @roseblue373 @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda

The Dean’s List: @supernatural-jackles @dean-winchesters-bacon @cameronbraswell @docharleythegeekqueen @maddiepants @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @adoptdontshoppets @wingedcatninja @akshi8278 @kathaswings @deansgirl215 @x-waywardaf-x  @elara98azalea @jerkbitchidjitassbutt 

The Sam Sin-dicate: @x-waywardaf-x  @supernatural-jackles @cameronbraswell @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @deansgirl215 

[izaswritings]

Title: the problem with politics

Synopsis: Rapunzel has been crowned Queen and Varian has finally been pardoned. Some people have objections to this. Or, as Cassandra would say, “Some people need a kick in the—”

Notes: I wrote this in an exhausted daze in the middle of the night during a very tiring vacation. In other words…. Please be gentle if it’s not up to snuff?? 😅

Also, disclaimer—  I know nothing about politics, I just wanted to try my hand at humor and happiness for once. Also, does this count as fluff?? I’m kind of counting this as fluff. It’s for Fluff week.

-

This fic a sequel to another fic of mine, which you read either here or here! You don’t have to read it to understand this fic, but it does set up some background.

AO3 Link for this fic is here.

-

“I just have a few concerns,” says the minister, meaning, I have issues with every choice you have ever made.

“I see,” says Rapunzel, meaning, I regret ever letting you enter my kingdom, you long-winded old coot.

The minister smiles, unsuspecting of her insult. Eugene, sitting beside Rapunzel and looking quite dashing in his crown and kingly outfit, coughs awkwardly into one hand to hide a smile. He always has known her too well.

Rapunzel does not react. She sits there and smiles as pretty as she can, just as her mother taught her, and resists the urge to jump out the window. She’s great at spontaneous dynamic exits, she’d catch herself no problem, and it would, quite honestly, be hilarious.

Across the room, Cassandra catches Rapunzel’s eye and slowly shakes her head. No jumping out of windows, Raps, that’s what that means. Rapunzel scowls back and reluctantly looks back at the minister. He’s one of many, a leader of some far-off country Rapunzel can’t even remember the name of, and she has been sitting here for hours in a meeting she thought would take only a few minutes.

“First,” says the minister, in what promises to be a very long list of everything this old man thinks Rapunzel is doing wrong, “there is the matter of your choice in… company.”

“Hmm,” says Rapunzel, slouching in her chair.

“Not that I would object to a Queen’s decision! But ah, there are some… concerns, Your Highness, on what would inspire you to pardon a known criminal?”

It’s rather hilarious how quickly the kingdom has forgotten Rapunzel’s roots. Her husband—and their Prince Consort, technically nearly a king—was once a thief, her royal baker and pianist and many others in her court are former thugs of the Snuggly Duckling pub, and Rapunzel herself caused quite a stir way back when with her absolute refusal to wear shoes. Really, they should have seen this coming.

Also, known criminal? Who is this man kidding? Half the reason Varian was such an effective informant was that the only people that still remembered his crimes were the guards. And the royal family, admittedly; but this man is neither of those things.

Varian, standing to the left of her, who thus far has been absently fiddling with a new vial of some green concoction, must be thinking something similar, because he snorts and nearly drops the vial on Rudiger. The raccoon chitters at him and jumps up to his shoulders, and the minister gives them a sharp look, before ignoring them entirely, not giving Varian or Rudiger a second glance.

…Which, now that Rapunzel thinks about it, is another mark against the minister. So much for ‘known criminal,’ has the man even realized the criminal in question is standing right across from him?

Seriously. Rapunzel’s been dealing with these people for weeks. She’s already given her long-winded explanations, her stories and her reasoning, and yet the number of complaining royals seems to have only increased. Why, why do they just keep coming? It’s not like Varian attacked their kingdom!

“Very concerning,” Rapunzel agrees pleasantly, trying not to sound too eager to leave. Her fingers tap restlessly against her leg. “I’ll take those suggestions under advisement. If there is nothing else…?”

Cassandra, familiar with the former King’s favorite phrase, chokes on her breath, nearly dropping her halberd. Behind her throne, Rapunzel can hear Varian snicker.

If they give her away, Rapunzel is banning them both from the castle. She has dealt with too many of these people. If they subject her to another hour of this… Well! Drastic measures must be taken.

However, thank the Sun and Moon, the minister seems unaware of their mockery. His smile is slimy but genuinely pleased, and Rapunzel resists the urge to wrinkle her nose at him.

“Well, if you insist,” says the minister, sounding… far too high-and-mighty, actually, oh dear. Rapunzel turns her attention back to him, feeling a bit desperate, her heart sinking. “I do have a few other recommendations for how your castle should be running. First of all—" And here, he looks pointedly at Pascal, perched on Rapunzel’s head, before eyeing Rudiger up on Varian’s shoulders. “—this isn’t exactly a zoo, Your Highness.”

Rapunzel goes absolutely still. Beside her, Eugene sighs openly, clasping a hand over his face. Varian clutches Rudiger to his chest and gives the man a dirty look. Even Cassandra looks offended, one hand rising to pat Owl on the head.

Pascal, turned yellow-white with shock at the audacity, gives a little gasp.

Rapunzel closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. Then she exhales slow and careful, and fixes the man with her best smile. “Quite right,” she says, her gaze boring into him. The minister starts to look at bit nervous. Rapunzel keeps on smiling. Her teeth are grit. “This is no zoo, it’s a castle. Therefore, sir, I implore you to treat these animals with respect, and assume they are here for a reason. Unlike yourself.”

The minister looks startled, and then offended, opening his mouth again. Eugene flies up to his feet before a word can pass through his lips. “Well!” he says loudly, grandly, one hand flung out to the sky. “That was positively riveting! Thank you, kind sir, for your marvelous advice. So helpful! But, alas, it is time for lunch. Can’t ignore the bell.” He grabs Rapunzel’s arm, smile wide and bright and a little desperate. “Ta-ta, see you later! Or never! Or whichever works, really! Come along dear, I think the steak is calling for me.”

He tugs into her into a half-way spin and drags her bodily down the hall and out of the throne room. As if following an unspoken cue, Cassandra and Varian tag along behind them. Cassandra is grinning. Varian is petting Rudiger and muttering under his breath.

Rapunzel closes her eyes and shakes her head, trying to reorient herself. Oh, darn it. She hadn't meant to lose her temper. Still... at least it got her out of that room, at any rate. She doesn't think she could've lasted another hour.

“So,” Rapunzel says dryly, once the throne room is out of sight, in lieu of thanks. “Steak can talk now?”

Eugene blinks down at her and then flashes a winning smile. His arm comes around and squeezes her shoulder. “Well, now, you never know! Maybe Varian used the kitchen for his alchemy.”

“Um, objection,” Varian says, jogging slightly to catch up to them, before slowing down to walk at their heels. He crosses his arms, chin tilted up in false offense. “That is sloppy. I am never sloppy.”

“Anymore,” says Cassandra, slyly.

“Do you know what flynnolium does to steak?” Varian asks her. “I mean, even for me— sloppy.”

Cassandra raises an eyebrow at that, looking curious. “What does flynnolium do to steak?”

Varian brightens, pushing back his goggles up further on his head and starting to grin. “Well—”

“I do not know,” Eugene says, speaking loudly over them. “I do not know, and I hope I never find out, because wow that is a terrifying thought.”

“Ah, spoilsport,” Varian mutters, but drops the subject without further prompting. Behind Eugene’s back, noticeable only in the corner of Rapunzel’s eye, Cassandra nudges at Varian's shoulder. She points between Varian and herself and then towards the direction of the royal kitchens, eyebrows raised in a silent question. Varian gives her an ok-sign back in return.

Rapunzel has a feeling she is going to receive a report on what happens when raw meat interacts with deadly chemical very, very soon, no matter what Eugene wishes. She hides a smile behind her hand and looks ahead, feigning innocence. If Cassandra and Varian want to make things go boom in the castle kitchens, Rapunzel isn’t going to stop them. She confesses to being bit curious herself, honestly.

Besides. Maybe it will give those old coots something else to gossip about. It’s been nearly a month, after all—they’ll have to move on from Varian’s pardon eventually. Maybe this is just the nudge they need.

Rapunzel loops her arm with Eugene’s, grinning outright at the idea, ignoring his concerned expression. “What was that you said back there? Lunch? Lunch sounds amazing.” She peers over her shoulder at a guilty-looking Cassandra and Varian and winks. “Shall we head for the kitchens?”

Cassandra grins back with all her teeth. Varian bounces once on his heels and mouths, Explosions. So many explosions, at her with an expression akin to a kid in a candy store.

Don’t get caught, Rapunzel mouths back, and Varian gives her a little salute.

When she turns back to Eugene, his face is downturned but his eyes are resigned. “For the love of—" He sighs, suddenly and loudly, and shakes his head. "Oh, well. It’s past time we had new gossip in here anyways. The pardon was getting pretty stale.”

There are no ministers here, no nobles or guards or anyone Rapunzel needs to pretend around. She is surrounded by her friends and family, surrounded by those she loves. Her greatest threat now is dealing with annoying dignitaries, rather than evil sorcerers, and Rapunzel—Rapunzel couldn’t be happier.

She takes Eugene’s hand, throws back her head, and laughs. “To the kitchens!”