#ver writes fic

[patrophthia]

show me how | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x reader

genre: fluff? angst? unrequited crushes but not really, love confessions, first kiss, complicated feelings???

wc: 1.2k

originally posted on AO3: 23/02/2023

You like Tom Riddle. Like like like. Like fancy him like. You knew that. And you think he knows it too.

It's not like you actively tried to hide it, if he knew about it then that's that. If he doesn't then that's another path that readily available for you to take.

"Hmm?" You hummed, Tom had called for your attention earlier but you weren't exactly focused on what he was saying. Your eyes met his, now wide and curious as to what he had to say. "What is it?"

"Are you okay?" He asks.

And the words sound so foreign coming from between his lips that you thought for a split second that you weren't speaking to Tom himself.

"Yeah," you murmur softly, nodding as he process the words in as a clear lie. If Tom had been a more expressive person, he'd be frowning, but he wasn't, so instead he settled on pursing his lips. "Don't worry about it."

Tom was conceived under a love potion. He can't love. And one would think that that was enough of a reason to not have feelings for the guy but you were stupid enough to do it nonetheless.

"You're lying," he states, his brows furrowed the slightest bit. "Why are you lying?"

"It's nothi—" You stop, tearing your eyes away from his to stare down at your hands. And after a second, you huff, looking back at him once more. "—Do you think that you could grow to love someone?"

And that was when it clicked into place for Tom. You, the only person he was able to tolerate and or considers as his only friend, fancied him.

He thinks for a bit, mulling the idea over and over. Tom is used to the act by now, he would get confessed to then he would promptly turn it down because, quite frankly, he doesn't give a shit what others think of him.

But with you. He doesn't know what to do with you.

"I think you should get something to eat," he says instead, another action that was so foreign of him to do. "Come on."

Tom was never one to avoid confrontation in any shape or form and always made sure that the person who confessed to him knew their place. But you were his friend, and he doesn't know how to tell you where you were placed on the list of things that occupied his mind.

Tom stands up awkwardly by the library's table, a place you've been frequenting with him lately. And watched as you made no move in gathering your things.

"Have you ever loved anything?" You ask him quietly, grateful that you've found the table furthest from any possible commotion.

Tom says your name sternly. You knew he didn't like to talk about this topic, a wall having been put up and never once crossed during the years of friendship in which you've known him. "I think we should go."

"And I think you should tell me that you can't love me back," you counter. "Just so I could move on."

Tom stays silent, his head going dizzy at the look on your face, staring up at him from your seat with your pupil blown wide with admiration. You not only liked him. You loved him.

"I'm not going to care for you any less when you tell me no," you say to him. Tom reaches over and grabs at your things, packing it as he quietly listens to you. "You're still my friend."

Friends. His stomach drops at the words. He doesn't want to be your friend. He doesn't know what he wants, he just knows that he didn't want to be just that. But he will not give you false hope by lying to you. So he tells you, like you've asked of him: "I can't love you."

It takes you two beats before you smile at him, finally putting away your things, your own hand brushing against his cold ones as you stuffed your supplies into your bag. Tom considers for a second if he should hold it for you. You know, as an apologetic gift.

But he decides not to, and watches as the straps drapes over your shoulder, digging into your skin uncomfortably.

"You know," you start as you walked out the library besides him. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile."

Tom steps slows, matching with your own and with knitted brows he asks. "What do you mean?"

"I can't remember how you smile," you say with a small smile of your own. "Show me how, will you?"

Tom blinks. He thinks back to his life in the orphanage, to the basilisk under the chamber, Moaning Myrtle, the things he did to Hagrid, everything he has done so far that you've had zero clue of and feels to guilty too lift the corner of his lips up. He just can't do it.

"If you can't show me how you love, Tom," you say. "Then the least you could do was show me how you smile."

He doesn't say anything, just watching you as your eyes flickered between his lips and any of his other features. You were shorter than him, and he thinks he likes it this way.

He thinks of you, how you look at him, how you speak to him, how you've dreamt up visions of who he'd never be, and how he —for the first time ever in his life, feel the love you have for him. And how when he does smiles, a small sigh slips out of him.

You notice then the corner of his lips curving upwards, the small squint of his eyes, the scrunch on his high nose bridge, and the dip of dimples in his cheeks, poking through clearer than ever before. Your thoughts err away, and you let your heart fall in love with Tom again.

You smile back, reciprocating his and somehow his only grew. A blissful glint reaching his eyes, as he mirrored you. You tilt your head to the side, only realising now that you two came to halt, and signalled for him to follow after you. "Let's go."

You didn't get far, cold hand wrapping around your wrist and held you in place. You look back at him with a questioning look and you could see Tom contemplate with himself.

"I'm going to kiss you."

"What?"

Tom didn't repeat himself, his lips pressing onto yours with his free hand gently cupping your face, the coldness melting into the heat of your flushed cheeks. Cold. Cold. Cold. You kissed him back, letting yourself enjoy this moment while it lasted with an ache in your heart. Tom pulls away, hand still cupping your face as his thumb slides down to your chin and lifts it up so you would look at him.

"I want to learn to love you," he says slowly. "Please."

A smile etched its way onto your lips, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Tom since he has to physically restrain himself from kissing you again and again. Tom awaited for your words, and as he thinks that he'll finally get an answer to his semi-love confession.

You ask him instead, "why are your hands so cold?"

—from bee: writing my favorite slytherin to my favorite song, may be OOC tom but who caresssssss,, i love him for ittt.

[rendiggitydog]

Cub… 👀

[meadow-art]

WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE HAIKAVEH FANS?!?!

[razzle-zazzle]

dude, i think your mech is haunted

8077 Words; Cleaved AU (Movie)

TW for mild violence, mild body horror (ghost has holes), vomiting

AO3 ver

Generally, Cole never really gave much thought to whether he believed in ghosts.

He’d never seen any himself, sure, but he also lived in a world with Serpentine and Garmadon and Master Builders. It wasn’t that he particularly cared one way or the other—he just never really gave the idea of ghosts much thought outside of when he was directly asked.

Recently, though? He was starting to think his home might be haunted.

It started with the record player. Cole’s family had a long love of music; it was all musicians as far back as anyone in their family could trace. Cole’s dad was no exception—between the records and CDs of their favorite bands and albums was every song the Royal Blacksmiths had ever made. Cole would never be able to get the classics out of his head; they were written so deeply into his bones from a childhood spent listening to those at-the-time-new albums with his mom. Music was just a part of Cole’s life, and he liked it that way—the Earth Mech wouldn’t have had a DJ setup for the control panel if he didn’t.

But back to the maybe-haunting. Cole had gotten home after a long day of school and then hanging with the rest of the Secret Ninja Force. Part of it was training—Master Wu was determined that they would all learn how to be “proper ninja,” even though their mechs were perfectly suited for handling Garmadon attacks—but most of it was just hanging out with his friends. The ache in Cole’s body from the physical conditioning was vaguely satisfying, thanks to the fact that he’d been hanging out with his friends during.

Before he’d even put his bag away Cole moved to get the record player going. He grabbed an album, pulled out a record, and flipped it onto the player and set the needle with practiced ease. Within moments, The Fold’s music began to fill the apartment as Cole finally slung his backpack onto the couch.

There was a note on the counter from his dad—a late night with his bandmates, and a reminder to take out the trash squished between the reminders to call him in case of emergency and that he loved his son. Cole set the note back down and turned to open the fridge for those leftover wings mentioned in his dad’s note.

“Jump up kick back whip around and spin,” Cole sang along with the song, “and then you—”

A sudden clatter from the doorway had Cole spinning around to stare at the entryway. Countless records spilled across the floor and shoes from where they had been knocked off the shelf by… actually, Cole wasn’t sure. The shelf looked fine.

“Shit.” Cole groused as he moved to clean up the mess. The song kept cheerfully playing on as he worked—he wasn’t gonna just put them back on there willy-nilly. There was a system to the selection of music by the door, just like there was a system to the main shelf of records, CDs, and talent show trophies in the living room.

That was pretty much the whole incident—barely even anything to really worry about. Besides, Cole had homework to ignore and trash to take out.

+=+=+=+=+

“Fly Me to the Moon!” Cole jolted in his seat at the sudden clatter from the kitchen, turning around to look over the back of the couch. His father, one arm still holding the cabinet door, looked down at the floor in a mixture of frustration and astonishment. Though Cole couldn’t see through the counter, he could guess as to what had happened—

“That was the good china!” Lou lamented. Yep, just what Cole figured.

“How’d it even fall out anyway?” Cole asked, as his father let go of the cabinet and went for the broom. He glanced up at the cabinet, surprised to see the whole stack of plates that only ever came out when the Royal Blacksmiths had a successful show completely gone. Weird, how did a whole stack of plates randomly fall out of a cabinet?

“Caesar must have put them away wrong Tuesday night.” Lou guessed, already sweeping up the shards. Cole nodded, and turned back to his laptop. Well, maybe laptop was a generous word—it was a computer provided by the school, in case a Garmadon attack forced them to switch to online lessons. It barely worked like a normal computer, and was little more than a glorified e-reader for teachers to put homework on.

Lou sighed. “I suppose I can’t be too mad,” he added quietly. “Lilly always did hate these plates.” He chuckled, before sighing. “Mom loved them, though.”

Despite the agonizing english homework filling the screen in front of him, Cole snorted.

+=+=+=+=+

“I swear, I have no idea how it fell over!” Cole kneeled down, pressing a towel into the section of the carpet that looked the most soaked. The shattered pieces of the former vase still littered the floor, the sad dying irises wet and limp where they laid in the middle of the puddle.

“I’m not going to be mad at you.” Lou promised, carefully picking up the pieces of vase big enough to grab and putting them in the dustpan.

“I didn’t do it!” Cole protested. He hadn’t. He really hadn’t. The vase had just flung itself off the coffee table—somehow. Cole wasn’t entirely sure how, but—he watched it fall! He didn’t touch it!

His father took a moment to look at him, eyebrow raised in quiet disbelief.

Cole groaned. “It just fell.” He repeated, knowing there was no convincing his father. So what if the irises were tacky? Cole wasn’t going to break a vase just because the flowers inside were ugly. They had been a gift from one of his father’s bandmates, too—Brendan kept a garden, and often gave out flowers as they grew in. And zucchini. So much zucchini.

But still. Cole didn’t knock over the vase, on purpose or otherwise.

Lou sighed. “It was in the middle of the table.” He pointed out.

“And I didn’t touch it!” Cole responded. He pressed the towel down for emphasis—all it did was make his hands damp. His father opened his mouth to say something—

The record, which had been playing an old rock song from before Cole was even born, made a sound that could only be described as wailing. Cole and Lou flinched at the sound, Lou moving to stand up—

Just as quickly as it started, it was over. Silence filled the apartment—true silence, without any music playing in the background.

Cole looked at his father, who had walked over to the record player to inspect it. “Do you think I did that, too?” He asked. Part of him was worried the record player was broken—but most of him was just plain annoyed.

“Cole.” Lou’s tone of voice was sharp. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and reset the needle, music filling the room once more.

Cole made a face. “It’s a valid question.” He groused.

+=+=+=+=+

Ghosts were very much not on Cole’s mind a week later. Despite several things falling over for seemingly no reason, or the record player skipping in the middle of songs, the idea of ghosts hadn’t really entered Cole’s mind. Not when he had Garmadon attacks—or, even worse, school—to worry about.

The history project due tomorrow taunted him through the screen. Were it not for the music blasting from his boombox, Cole would have pulled his hair out by now. Why did citing sources have to be so annoying? Why did finding sources have to be even worse?

Cole glanced at his phone, then back at his still unfinished project. He’d been picking away at it for what felt like forever, now—surely he deserved a break. With that thought in mind, Cole grabbed his phone and pulled up the group chat.

wateryoudoing: did any of you guys finish your essays yet greenmachine: yes! wateryoudoing: besides lloyd greenmachine: :( rocknroll: fsm i wish 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: i havent even started lol greenmachine: guys its not that hard greenmachine: its literally only 600 words wateryoudoing: easy for you to say rocknroll: not evryone can remember this stuff liek you greenmachine: the serpentine war is NOT boring guys wateryoudoing: its not even that the war is boring its just that this assignemtn SUCKS greenmachine: its not that bad rocknroll: yeah it is 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: yeah it is wateryoudoing: see lloyd wateryoudoing: everyone agrees greenmachine: is this bc mr marsh wouldnt let you write about irondragon

Cole closed out of the groupchat. As much fun as it might be to watch Nya and Lloyd argue over whether their history teacher was any good at his job or not, he was hoping for a more fun distraction. He navigated to that one sudoku app he got a while ago, and started up a game. He started a second game five minutes later—and then another when he finished that one, too. It was starting to get boring, but Cole couldn’t put his phone down.

He glanced at his unfinished essay. Back at his phone. The time was 8:43. He could keep taking this break for just a little longer, right?

Cole looked back at the sudoku, entering the last numbers needed to complete the game. The “continue” button appeared, but he didn’t press it.

The assignment was haunting him. Masterdammit. He didn’t want to work on it anymore—but he couldn’t just leave it unfinished. It’d show in his grades and then his dad would get on his ass about it when he already had enough to worry about with the hospital bills—

Cole flinched as harsh static grated against his ears. He fumbled for his boombox, wincing at the noise it was making. First the record, now this? The noise took on that wailing quality, harsh and discordant against Cole’s ears. Despite turning the volume all the way down, the noise continued, scratching against Cole’s brain like nails on a chalkboard.

And then it stopped.

Cole exhaled the breath he hadn’t realize he was holding. Slowly, he turned the volume knob back—

A few seconds of static, then nothing. Cole groaned.

His phone buzzed. Cole grabbed it, opening the group chat to see what was happening now.

FI-YEAHHHH: you guys are not gonna believe what i found 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: 👀 wateryoudoing: your “missing” science hw? FI-YEAHHHH: no even better than that crimedoer: okay i’ll bite crimedoer: WHO CHANGED MY NAME FI-YEAHHHH: so i’m at doomsday comix, as you do greenmachine: you went to doomsday w/o me 🥺 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: 😲😲😲 crimedoer: KAI WAS IT YOU FI-YEAHHHH: uhhhhhh FI-YEAHHHH: okay lloyd i was looking for a bday gift for you FI-YEAHHHH: didnt wanna spoil the surprise greenmachine: my birthday’s not for another 4 months??? crimedoer has changed their name to jetstream wateryoudoing: we’re getting off topic guys wateryoudoing: kai what did you find FI-YEAHHHH: jay change your name back FI-YEAHHHH: okay so i’m looking at the figurines right jetstream: no FI-YEAHHHH: and LOOK at what i found!!!

Kai sent a picture to the groupchat of a Lady IronDragon figurine in his hand, slightly scuffed—and missing a weapon judging by the shape of her hand. The price tag was visible: $10.99.

Cole smiled, texted a quick “cool” and put his phone back down. It continued to buzz as the conversation continued, but Cole’s focus was already back on the boombox. It didn’t look broken. He flicked it back on—

Music blared out like it had never stopped working in the first place. Cole leaned back in his chair with a groan. “First Master…” Between this, the plates, the vase, and the record player—there was something weird going on. Cole just wished it would blow over. Of course, knowing his luck, it probably wouldn’t.

And he still needed to finish that essay!

+=+=+=+=+

“Hey, dude, you doing okay?” Kai’s voice cut through the usual cacophony of the halls before classes. He was leaning against Cole’s locker, and moved over to allow Cole access. “You look kinda…” He waved his hands in a vague approximation of whatever was prompting his concern.

Cole shrugged. “It’s been a weird week.” The noise of the other students was already giving him a headache. He hadn’t brought his boombox today, for fear of it making that awful noise in his locker, but he did still have his headphones—

Uh. Wait—where were his headphones?

“Cole?” Kai leaned over.

“I can’t find my headphones.” Cole said, his voice much more calm than he felt. He sat down to dig into his backpack proper, pulling everything out one by one. He couldn’t find his headphones—where were they? He never left home without them—

“Hello fellow teens!” Zane greeted, wheeling over. He turned to Cole. “Did you ever finish your history essay?”

“Cole can’t find his headphones.” Kai explained to Zane—and Nya and Jay, who had just arrived.

“Oof,” Jay said, brushing his fingers over the fabric of his scarf. “That sucks.”

Cole wasn’t listening. His headphones—he needed his headphones! Without his music—

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his rising panic. “Hey,” Lloyd said, kneeling beside Cole. “I know it’s not the same, but…” he reached into his own backpack, pulling out a pair of earbuds, “will these work for you?”

Something in Cole softened at the gesture, even as the rest of him recoiled at the notion of using earbuds. He forced the protests down with a swallow, and took a breath. “It’ll do.” He conceded, taking the earbuds. It was way different from his boombox and headphones, but he’d rather have the earbuds than no music at all.

He still couldn’t believe he’d forgotten them. He never left home without his headphones!

“Where’s your boombox, anyway?” Nya asked, as Cole began to pick all his stuff back up and Kai and Jay and Zane all began to help him.

“It’s been acting weird lately.” Cole responded, standing up and shoving his bag into his locker. “Making weird noises.”

“Ohhh, like the record player?” Jay asked, “You said it made a weird noise on Monday.”

Cole nodded, plugging the earbuds into his walkman. He put one bud in one ear and left the other out so he could follow the conversation, and started towards his first class. The halls were emptying out, now, as the start of classes approached.

Kai, Jay, and Nya didn’t share the same first period, and peeled off to get to their respective classes. Cole leaned against Zane as they walked, and turned to Lloyd. “Thanks.” He murmured, before popping in the other earbud.

Lloyd nodded. “Of course.”

+=+=+=+=+

Garmadon attacks were all the same. Get to the hideout, get in their mechs, get out there and kick ass. Sure, there was definitely stress in how the attacks constantly interrupted their lives and put the whole city in danger, but it was a stress they were all used to. Before long, Garmadon was retreating from the crater Lloyd had made, and they were all pulling back into the hideout to relax and decompress.

Cole hopped out of the Earth Mech and beelined straight for the jukebox. His headphones may not have turned up, but at least their secret base was never lacking in terms of music players. He looked through the music they had on hand before selecting an old Three Days Grace song. The music blared, and Cole sat down heavily, pressing his cheek into the cool plastic of the jukebox as the vibrations washed over him.

“—across all of our battles, Lloyd has done significantly more damage to the city than Garmadon!” Zane was saying when Cole tuned back into the conversation.

Lloyd winced. “I—” He grunted, then went over the couch and sat on it. “I should work on that.” He finished, a bit lamely.

“Yeah, but he looked so cool doing it!” Kai put in, also taking a seat on the couch. “And besides, the city doesn’t give a damn, and they bully us all the time, so why should we care if things get a little broken?”

“That’s not very ninja of you.” Cole pointed out, still leaning against the jukebox. From where he was sitting, he watched as Jay started up a game on the TV, handing a controller to Kai. Kai took the controller, and grabbed one to offer to Lloyd, who shrugged and waved it off. Zane wheeled over to Cole and sat down next to him

“Oh, who cares!” Nya declared, hopping up over the back of the couch and landing next to Jay. “Lloyd’ll work on his ‘use every missile in his arsenal on Garmadon’ habit and we’ll continue protecting the city. Not that hard!”

Cole smiled. Yeah, Garmadon attacks sucked, but at least the aftermath was always great. Being here, hanging out in this sickass secret hideout with the rest of the Secret Ninja Force—

The jukebox shrieked. Cole stumbled back as that same awful static hissed out of it, grating against his ears. Across the room, Jay yelled, falling off the couch and taking Kai down with him.

“Dude!” Lloyd’s hands were over his ears as he winced at the noise. Zane’s head was spinning—

“Ha!” Nya stood triumphantly, unplugged power cord for the jukebox in hand—

Except the noise continued, screeching despite the loss of power. Cole winced, covering his ears with his hands and scooting further away from the jukebox. Nya similarly backed away—

And then

the noise

stopped.

Everyone stared at the jukebox. Cole lowered his hands, and groaned. “Not again.” He muttered, glaring at the poor jukebox. Now he was three for three on weird noises.

“Uh, that’s not the noise your record player and boombox made, is it?” Jay asked as he and Kai untangled themselves.

Cole grimaced, which was answer enough.

“I think you might be cursed, bro.” Kai suggested, coming over to put his hand on Cole’s other shoulder.

“Gasp!” Zane gasped. “Cole’s headphones disappeared too! I hope he’s not cursed to never enjoy music again.”

Cole stared at Zane in horror. “Never say that again, please.” Nope. No way. If Cole was cursed in some way that prevented him from listening to music, he was going to walk into the sea and never come back. He couldn’t give up music. Not for anything.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Lloyd said, in a tone of voice that suggested nothing was fine. “Maybe Garmadon’s planning something with radios and… stuff.” He didn’t quite look like he believed what he was saying, but he pushed on anyway. “And then when he attacks again we’ll find out what he was planning and put a stop to it.”

Cole snorted. “And then we beat him up?”

Nya nodded sagely. “And then we beat him up.” She agreed. “And alllll of your music problems will end.” She sounded so sure of herself, like always—Cole couldn’t help the grin starting to split his face. He stood, ambling over and plugging the jukebox in. Thankfully, when he started the song, no weird noises came out. Cole still moved over to one of the bean bags near the couch just in case.

With that, Jay and Kai started the game anew, and everyone began to properly kill time until Master Wu showed up.

+=+=+=+=+

Garmadon didn’t often attack every single day, but back-to-back attacks were nothing new, either. Weekends tended to be particularly nasty, as this one was proving to be. Still, the Secret Ninja Force were up to the task, rolling out in their mechs to defend the city as they always did.

“Guys, I think my house is haunted.” Cole commented, directing the Earth Mech around a sharp corner. The intercoms crackled slightly as the others began to reply—

Ethereal green spun into the corner of his vision, leaking face and half-there body lighting up the cockpit. “It’s not your house, dude.”

The Earth Mech slammed straight into a wall. Cole screamed, and in the same instant the—well, it really couldn’t be anything other than a ghost—disappeared, the green glow gone as soon as it had appeared. The world spun and Cole groaned, struggling to regain his bearings.  The Earth Mech was halfway into the wall.

“Please tell me you guys heard that.” Cole sighed, spinning the records to back the Earth Mech out of the newly-created hole in the wall.

“If you mean you screaming and crashing into a wall, then yes!” Zane chirped. Cole buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Let’s try and focus on the battle at hand, guys.” Lloyd commented. “We can talk about the ghost thing later.”

“Yeah,” Cole agreed, getting back into the groove. “Let’s do that.”

+=+=+=+=+

Despite Lloyd’s comment, they all had things they needed to go do at home post-battle, so everyone split up after a few minutes spent cooling down. Cole made his way to the bus stop, pulling out his fare. Twenty minutes later, he was getting off, and started making his way through his neighborhood.

Cole’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, and opened the group chat.

IHATEMYDAD: doomsday wont let me in :( wateryoudoing: omw bro crimedoer: lloyd your name :( 💒😲🐦: todays atk was p rough crimedoer: MOTHRFUCKER crimedoer has changed their name to bluedabbade bluedabbade: ENOUGH FI-YEAHHHH: bro whats that even supposed to mean bluedabbade: you are not being serious rn rocknroll: the song right? bluedabbade: see! cole gets it!

Cole snorted, reaching for his keys. The door opened easily, and he switched his shoes before reaching to start the record player. The moment the music started, he walked off, not wanting whatever was going on with him to break the record player (again). Sitting down on the couch, he opened the group chat up again.

FI-YEAHHHH: but your name is literally a crime 💒😲🐦: very true 💒😲🐦: jay walking is a very srs crime bluedabbade: IM NOT A CRIIMNLA FI-YEAHHHH: criimnla IHATEMYDAD: criimnla wateryoudoing: criimnla bluedabbade: JSFLDGKFHGJH bluedabbade has changed FI-YEAHHHH’s name to fi-YUCK fi-YUCK: jay wtf bluedabbade: how does it feel bluedabbade: sucks doesn’t it fi-YUCK: okay fine ig i deserve it IHATEMYDAD: nya got us banned from doomsday for a week btw wateryoudoing: it’s not my fault the manager was a jerk! rocknroll: lol IHATEMYDAD: oh yeah cole you doing alright? IHATEMYDAD: what were we supposed to hear anyway rocknroll: istfsm SOMETHING appeared in my mech rocknroll: and said it wasnt just home that was haunted bluedabbade: what, like a ghost? rocknroll: i hope not rocknroll: life is hectic enough as is fi-YUCK: amen 🙏

+=+=+=+=+

Green light crept in under the door. Cole stared at it, but it stayed firmly green instead of the hallway light’s usual yellow. Not that the hallway light should even be on, at this hour, when Cole’s dad was asleep in his room and Cole was supposed to also be asleep.

Oh, First Master, Cole did not want to get up to deal with this. Not at ass o’clock in the morning. But he was a ninja, so he sat up and rolled off the bed as quietly as possible. If someone was stupid enough to try and break in here then they were in for a surprise. But really, why green? It wasn’t even the vibrant green of Lloyd’s mech and gi—it was paler, almost sickly, maybe even lifeless.

Cole sleepily made his way to the door and rested his hand on the handle, ready to burst it open and take whoever was shining ominous green light in the hallway by surprise—

And then it was gone. Like it had never been there in the first place. Because maybe it never had.

Cole blinked. He sighed. Tiredness clung to his shoulders like a coat, and his bed was calling for him. Still, he turned the knob and opened the door just to check—

Nothing.

“Ughhhh.” Cole groaned, turning back to his bed. He was probably just seeing things. Probably.

Green light filtered into his room through the open door. Cole whirled around towards the source.

Standing at the other end of the hallway was… a ghost? It was a pale, unearthly green, slightly transparent. Holes opened and closed throughout it, and its face was too indistinct for Cole to fully make out. Okay, definitely a ghost.

Fuck. Cole practically dove towards his nightstand, snatching his phone and fumbling to unlock it. Squinting against the glaring light of the screen, he opened the camera app, turned back to the hallway, and aimed at the ghost.

The flash lit up the entire hallway. Cole cursed, hurrying to turn it off, and aimed the camera again. He opened the group chat and sent the picture.

rocknroll: i swear to teh fuckign first master criminal: is that a fucking ghost criminal: WHO THE FUCK FI-YEAHHHH: okay so coles ass is haunted criminal: KAI WAS IT YOU wateryoudoing: guys why are you up at 2 am FI-YEAHHHH: why are YOU up at two AM 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠: shockedface.jpeg

The ghost just… stood there, staring at the wall. Cole finally found the brightness settings and lowered them, keeping the ghost in his peripheral vision as he did. “What do you want from me?” He asked, not expecting a response.

The ghost turned to face him. It stared, its mouth opening. “I shou—e—ask—g—you—that.” Its voice had a crackly, echoey quality, like a skipping record or damaged cassette.

Cole bristled. “Dude,” he hissed, not really caring that he was trying to argue with a ghost, “you’re haunting me.”

The ghost crossed its arms, but the motion accidentally bumped the wall. Cole snapped another photo at exactly the same moment as the pictures on the wall fell down.

“Uh—” The ghost drifted back, “Oops.”

Cole buried his face in his hands. The group chat was still open on his phone.

rocknroll: IT WONT LEAVE ME ALONE

He sent the picture, then shoved his phone into his pocket and moved to pick up the photos. None of the frames seemed to be damaged, at least, but Cole still grumbled as he held up a photo of the Royal Blacksmiths holding the Blade Cup.

“Oh, I—rememb—that.” The ghost commented, bright green glow lighting up the photo as it leaned over Cole. Cole glared at the ghost. There was something familiar about its face, but its features kept flickering in and out, missing-unmissing in a way that kept Cole from recognizing why it looked familiar.

“It’s way too late for this.” Cole grumbled, once the wall was fixed. He supposed he could at least thank the ghost for providing light to see by—but he was too tired for that. So he settled for walking back towards his room, glaring at nothing while the ghost hovered behind him. He made it just past his door when the green light disappeared entirely.

Cole looked around, and, when he realized the ghost was seemingly gone, he sat down on his bed and opened up the group chat.

criminal has changed their name to supersonic FI-YEAHHHH: alright bro im comin over FI-YEAHHHH: gonna get all ghostbusters on this guy for you wateryoudoing: kai you are NOT going out at 2 am FI-YEAHHHH: also jay change your name back wateryoudoing: KAI supersonic: NUH UH 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠 has changed supersonic’s name to jaywalkingisacrime jaywalkingisacrime: ZANE jaywalkingisacrime: I DO NT JAYWALK FI-YEAHHHH: its in your name rocknroll: it’s gone rocknroll: for now rocknroll: kai you don’t need to come over FI-YEAHHHH: good bc i changed my mind FI-YEAHHHH: nya totally didnt drag me back inside jaywalkingisacrime has changed their name to NOTACRIMINAL 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠: sus FI-YEAHHHH: sus rocknroll: sus wateryoudoing: sus NOTACRIMINAL: i hate it here greenmachine: can you all GO TO BED

Cole closed the chat and turned off his phone, setting it on his nightstand. He flopped back onto his bed, arms spread wide and staring at the ceiling. Without the light of his phone or the ghost, he couldn’t make out any details, but he wasn’t exactly looking for anything in particular.

So he was haunted. Great. And if the jukebox at the hideout was any indication, then the ghost was following him around. Maybe even all the time.

Cole glared at the darkness. He had no idea where the ghost went, but it clearly had to be able to turn invisible given recent events. After a moment more of glaring around his room, he sighed, throwing an arm over his face.

First Master, this sucked.

+=+=+=+=+

“Hey, Garmadorks!”

As one, the Secret Ninja Force glanced over at Chen and his cronies. Cole frowned, adjusting his hold on his boombox.

Lloyd winced. “Yeah, Chen?” He tried for a smile, but it came out just as pained and awkward as always.

Chen and the other cheerleaders glared at them all. “Your dad’s last attack totalled my mom’s insurance firm.” He bit out.

“So what?” Nya asked, leaning over the table to glare at Chen directly. “Lloyd had nothing to do with that.”

“Uh, he totally did?” One of the cheerleaders objected. “It was his dad’s invasion. That’s like, involvement enough.” She twirled some of her hair around her finger as she spoke.

“Yeah!” Added another cheerleader. “And he hasn’t done anything to make up for his dad’s invasions, either.” She flipped her hair. “He totally owes the whole city reparations and stuff.”

“That makes zero sense!” Zane pointed out. “Lloyd and his father do not have contact.”

“Yeah!” Kai agreed, leaning up against Lloyd in a show of support. “Just lay off, Chen. Go back to braiding each other’s hair.” He sneered.

“Ugh, of course Garmadon hides behind his goons,” Chen groused, stepping forwards. “Real evil villain behav—”

“What—h—uck?” A new voice asked from behind Chen. A voice that was crackly and echoey in a familiar way—

Everyone jolted as a glowing green ghost appeared behind Chen, arms crossed and face missing. Nya grabbed a fork and held it threateningly, Jay shrunk back into his scarf, and Cole gripped his boombox a little tighter.

Chen and the other two turned around to face the new voice, and Chen scoffed. “Oh, yeah, real clever!” He bluffed. “But everyone knows that ghosts aren’t real—” Chen froze, his finger halfway into the ghost’s chest. Cole could only imagine the face Chen was making.

“Uhhhh, we gotta go!” Chen decided, as the other two cheerleaders nodded. “We’ve got practice, so…” And with that, they left.

Everyone stared. The majority of the lunchroom was still as active as ever, most people paying no attention to the literal ghost just feet away from Lloyd’s table. The ghost stared at them all, face flickering in and out of visibility, missing-unmissing features still frustratingly familiar but unrecognizable.

“Why are you haunting Cole?” Nya demanded, brandishing her fork in one hand and grabbing a milk carton in the other.

The ghost vanished.

Cole’s forehead hit the table with a quiet thud. He groaned in frustration. Zane’s cool hand rubbed at his back.

“Sooooo… that happened.” Lloyd said, as Kai reached over to pat Cole’s shoulder.

“I can look up how to perform an exorcism!” Zane suggested cheerfully. Cole sat up, opening his mouth to reply—

The Garmadon Alarm went off. Of all the possible timings—

“We’ll ask Master Wu later.” Lloyd suggested. “For now, we gotta get to our lockers!”

+=+=+=+=+

The texture of the record spinning under his fingers was exactly what Cole needed after weeks of being haunted. For all that Garmadon attacks sucked and made everything a thousand times harder for Lloyd, Cole could admit to finding some comfort in the familiarity of knocking about Garmadon’s generals with his mech.

“Kai, Zane, Cole, downtown!” Lloyd ordered, “I’m going after Garmadon.” It was the same setup as always, but it worked, so none of them complained. Cole rolled his mech along, knocking down as many generals on the way to the main action as he could.

Barely halfway through the horde, the music playing in the Earth Mech’s cockpit cut off with a familiar screeching sound. Cole flinched back, gripping his hood as his mech spun out of control. “No no no—”

With a final shuddering wail, the Earth Mech shut down, its one wheel spinning for a moment before the whole thing toppled over.

“Cole’s down!” Jay’s voice crackled over the radio. “On fourth street and blondo!”

“I’m on it!” Kai said, but last Cole remembered Kai was towards the other side of the city.

“Shit.” The ghost spun into existence besides Cole. “I didn—ean t—o that.”

“Yeah, well, you did.” Cole snapped, struggling with his mech’s lifeless controls. He needed to restart his mech, and fast—

Too late. One of Garmadon’s generals had already made it to the cockpit, banging on the glass. Cole barely had a moment to register the cracks spider webbing across before he had to raise his arms to protect his face from falling shards. Gloved hands grabbed his arms and hauled him out of his mech before he could do anything, tossing him towards the pavement.

Cole rolled, came to a stop, and groaned before forcing himself to sit up. The general was already on him, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him back as more generals rushed over.

“Wh—get off me!” Cole kicked, as another general grabbed his other shoulder. The ghost flickered into visibility beside him, only to disappear a moment later.

“Garmadon said to unmask him!” A general declared, and hands were reaching for Cole’s mask. No no no—

He wrenched one arm free and used to punch the general holding him, before darting off. Another general tackled him, and they grappled on the pavement.

The ghost became visible again. “Use sp—tsu!” It urged, hands passing through the generals uselessly.

“Use what?” What was the ghost talking about? Cole only half knew how to fight—the Secret Ninja Force used mechs!

A general grabbed Cole’s mask and yanked. Cole shoved forwards, slamming his head against their glass bubble thing and grabbing at their hand. Too late—another general grabbed his mask and pulled it off completely, revealing his face for all to see. He could hear all the other ninja yelling on the radio, could see Kai’s fire mech approaching the scene—which, uh, Cole would rather not be barbequed, thanks—but there were so many generals. There were too many of them! Cole needed his mech!

“Ugh, just let me—” And then the green glow phased into Cole, and—

PAIN!

The world tumbled as his head pounded. Lights flashed in front of his eyes, noise and motion pummeling his senses. I don’t want you to be sick anymore Cole did it! I caused the cave in Bequeath bequeath bequeath Nice to meet you kid Ninja never quit We don’t always get what we want That’s not a coconut ZANE! Twinkletoes couldn’t deliver the goods You know blue! Try fire dork I know who I am! I should’ve bowed out long ago It was to protect him Ninja never quit This macho stuff is making you both look like fools Don’t tell me I have to ride this like a broomstick I got the scroll! That’s not fair I’M GONNA BITE YOU Make a mockery of our family legacy! SHOW YOURSELF! I didn’t see motormouth on it You look white! It’s a bug You need to remember Grief takes many shapes and forms Ninja never quit This isn’t about numbers No problem with that HEEEEELLLLP I’d love to visit! Is that why you ran away? My dad was a blacksmith Fair isn’t a word where I come from! Close the circle Don’t think you can lie to me We’re a team Brother sharpens brother Let’s burn these memories from my head Ninja never quit Maybe you belong together! WHY WOULD YOU TOUCH THE SCARY PICTURE JAY I was gonna eat that I can make a little extra if I do the human piñata Light as a feather Pinky! Rawr Ninja never quit I’m not strong enough! But we’re UNDERGROUND Eat dirt Bluebelle! I get it Close the circle I DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD DO THAT COLE You like my bed! Be the key! Some sing and dance It was supposed to be my day off I am the MC I’ll turn you black and blue! Ninja never quit I should have bowed out long ago This is about family! There are reputable performers that attend clown college Close the circle We’re in this together I promised to protect him! Ninja never quit JUST TAKE THE FLIER You didn’t make it out in time The mighty Cole! A prank? Really? Direct from the business end of your own weapon! Close the circle I know you too well Promise me you’ll always stand up I’m a… ghost! This dance ain’t over There’s magic in the air I saw you stand up for what is right! Close the circle Wow Lloyd’s going through puberty It’s now or never! Close the circle Win this thing See you’re missing? Close the circle Why don’t you make like a ghost and vanish? You received my message Close the circle Ha, Look at you! Some climb mountains Close the circle Not to a ghost! To those who are cruel and unjust I can’t see my reflection Close the circle Settling my debt Where is my reflection You can barely see yourself! Close the circle What are you even fighting for? Your friends have abandoned you! Your master has abandoned you! You are all ALONE!

Just one more lonely ghost, not a friend in the world—

The pavement was rough and uneven against Cole’s hands and knees, his whole body convulsing as the green glow pulled off. He retched, burning in this throat and bitterness on his lips. The world tilted as he heaved, cracked pavement coming up to slam his shoulder and side. Cole shuddered.

After a moment, the spinning slowed enough that Cole could push himself up. The green glow—the ghost—rippled where it stood amongst dismembered bones. It was as unstable as ever, but with the jumble of images and voices still rattling Cole’s brain, he could finally recognize the missing-unmissing features.

The pavement all around him was cracked, uneven, in several spider-webbing radiuses from several points. Where before Garmadon’s many generals had stood proudly, ready to fight, there were only a few of them laying across the pavement, groaning in pain or outright unconscious. Cole looked the ghost—who kept flickering like a bad lamp, rude—in the eye and spoke.

“You’re me.”

“COLE!” And then there was the rest of the Secret Ninja Force, picking their way over cracked concrete and down-for-the-count generals. Kai was the first to reach him, warm hands on Cole’s shoulders helping to steady the still-shaking world.

“What did you do to our friend?!” Nya demanded, charging at the ghost—Cole’s ghost? No, no, just calling him the ghost was fine. The ghost vanished with a crackly yelp, then flickered back into view a few feet to the left.

Cole’s head was pounding. Nausea had settled into his throat like a contented frog—he couldn’t swallow it down. The world was no longer spinning, thankfully, but he was dizzy all the same.

“I believe we have just witnessed a real-life possession!” Zane suggested. “And you should put your mask back on!”

Oh, fuck. “Right.” Cole fumbled for his mask for a moment, before Kai leaned in and helped him get it off. It was too late anyway—Cole could hear murmuring towards the edges of the street. Witnesses, no doubt. He chanced a glance, and—yep. Phones.

Fuck.

“Let’s get out of here.” Lloyd decided, still on his mech. “And quickly.”

“Yeah.” Cole nodded, still leaning on Kai. “Please.”

+=+=+=+=+

Thankfully, nobody had followed them back to the secret hideout, nor did anyone seem to have paid attention to where their mechs were going. Everyone was too busy with Cole’s identity reveal, apparently.

Cole sat down by the jukebox, leaning against Zane, face buried in his hands. His head was killing him, throbbing with constant pain as all the disjointed memories rattled around in his head. His whole body felt like a wrung-out towel.

The ghost’s soft glow was just barely visible through his fingers. Nya had the thing at spearpoint, and though its voice had somehow become clearer since the possession, its answers weren’t making any sense.

“I see someone has had their identity revealed.” Master Wu’s voice cut through the doom and gloom, everyone paying attention as their sensei entered the hideout.

“It’s not his fault!” Lloyd hurriedly defended, among a chorus of agreement from the others. “His mech broke down, because of the ghost—” He pointed at the ghost in question, who flickered in what might have been shame.

“We n—ver had to—ide our identi—ies.” The ghost said, crossing its arms. “And I—elped.”

“You have a rift in your head.” Master Wu stepped back as he spoke. “It’s no wonder you’re so unstable.”

The ghost’s mouth flickered from closed to opened, but no words came out—just formless sound that flickered in and out as the ghost’s form melted and reformed, holes opening and closing throughout him.

“And familiar, as well.” Master Wu looked astounded—if such a thing was even possible.

“When he possessed me,” Cole started, wincing as a new wave of pain spiked through his head, “I saw… memories. Or something like that.” He grimaced, gripping Zane’s arm tightly. “He’s me.”

“WHAT?!” The response from the others was immediate. Cole flinched back from the noise.

Master Wu smacked his staff against the ground, and everyone calmed down. “You’re sure?” He asked.

Cole nodded. “Except…” He fumbled for the words he needed, “it’s not quite the same.”

“I—ould—hope not.” The ghost grumbled. “This plac—s—azy.”

“So it’s some… Cole from another world?” Jay asked, sounding just as lost as Cole felt.

“Perhaps.” Master Wu said, sizing the ghost up. “Regardless, it is clear that he and Cole are… cleaved.” He lightly smacked Cole’s arm, and the ghost flinched in tandem. “The longer he is here, the more closely tied you two will become.”

Cole rubbed at his arm. “So we just gotta send him home, right?” Even though he had no idea how to do that.

“There are ways to travel to other worlds—” Master Wu began—

“Realms.” The ghost’s voice crackled. “It’s—ealms.”

“For you, maybe.” Master Wu groused. “Hmm… that complicates things.” He lifted his staff, and played the chorus of “Home” by… Daughtry, if Cole remembered right.

The ghost turned and gave Cole a helpless sort of look—just before its face flickered out of existence for a moment. Cole shrugged, not sure what the ghost was looking for.

A fresh wave of pain rolled through Cole’s head. He hissed through grit teeth—it felt like his head was splitting in two!

“Master…” Lloyd started, “If Cole and the ghost are ‘cleaved’, and the ghost has a rift in his head…” He cast a helpless look to Wu, “What’ll happen to Cole if the rift opens?”

Master Wu frowned, then grabbed his flute and played a snatch of music. Since Cole was in too much pain to identify the song, Zane spoke up instead.

“That song is ‘Explode’ by Mother Mother!” He confirmed after a moment’s search. Immediately, his smile morphed into a frown. “That is terrible news!”

Jay gasped. “COLE’S GONNA EXPLODE?!”

“If this ghost cannot be sent home,” Master Wu began, “then probably.”

“Then we gotta send this ghost home!” Nya declared, to general agreement.

“Looking up all forms of interdimensional travel!” Zane stated, a loading bar appearing over his face.

Master Wu hummed. “There is reference material on the Bounty. Lloyd, Jay, and Nya, with me.” The three hurriedly stood. “Kai and Zane, continue to monitor Cole and the ghost.” Kai nodded, holding onto Cole’s arm.

Wu turned his attention to the ghost. “Try not to rip apart.” He suggested.

+=+=+=+=+

“So this circle will send Ghost home?” Lloyd asked, looking at the chalk lines rendered by Zane’s careful hand, then at the candles Master Wu had helped to set up. The ghost was standing next to Cole, who had managed to stand—mostly by leaning most of his weight onto Kai, who stood between him and the ghost.

Master Wu looked the circle over. “It… might.” He confirmed. Everyone stared at him. “What? I’ve traveled between worlds, not to wherever he’s from.”

“L—t’s—ust—urr—p.” The ghost said, his voice having gotten worse over the past two hours. His form wavered, barely visible at all but for the brightly glowing rift on his head. He walked to the center of the circle, and looked at Lloyd. “Ligh—t—up.”

Lloyd nodded, brandishing a lighter he had found on the Bounty. He kneeled down, pressing the flame to the chalk. It caught, and the whole circle began to glow.

A hole through the ghost’s chest grew wide, more holes appearing throughout it. Everyone watched as the glow from the circle grew in intensity…

And then it didn’t. Everyone looked on in horror as the ghost flickered in place and the circle’s glow dimmed down to nearly nothing.

“No…” Lloyd said.

“C’mon, work!” Kai urged, but the circle remained inert.

“It’s ho—peless.” The ghost lamented. “I’m going to fade—fade away.” Its voice echoed with a deep sort of pain that Cole felt even if he didn’t fully understand.

“No, you’re not.” Cole protested, stumbling forwards onto the circle. “Because ninja never quit.” Recognition flashed in the ghost’s eyes, and for a moment, his body was solid enough for Cole to recognize his own face staring back at him.

“Bro—” Kai stepped into the circle to grab Cole’s shoulder. The circle began to glow softly.

“Wait…” Lloyd looked at the circle. “Everyone, get in the circle!” He ordered. Nya jumped in without hesitation, Jay hesitating before stepping within it as well. Zane wheeled forwards, and the circle’s glow brightened even further.

Lloyd stepped forwards, and the circle lit up fully with an ominous hum—

A tearing sound rang out through the hideout as a sudden wind buffeted them all. The ground shook, the whole floor lit up, the ghost’s arms lit up orange, his hands hot against Cole’s arms—

The ground disappeared from under Cole—it felt like he was pushed through a hole too small, but without being crushed in any way. The nothingness around him spun, then Cole felt a sudden twist—

Cole grunted as he impacted what felt like an old wooden floor—and as Kai landed directly on top of him. Four more impacts sounded out, and Cole squinted against the bright green glow. It looked like they had been dropped into some old building in the middle of the night—but the ghost’s green illuminated the scene just well enough. When Cole finally processed what he was looking at, his jaw dropped.

He knew the ghost was some… alternate version of him. Probably. But, if he was being honest, he hadn’t really had any expectations for what would happen beyond the vague hope that it would all work out and the ghost would no longer need to haunt him.

This was… well.

Cole watched as the ghost floated towards—it looked like a corpse, if he was being honest, skin pulled taut over the flesh. A nasty-looking hole lined with green light in the guy’s chest caught Cole’s eyes, and he winced. More off-putting than that, though, was the empty stare set into a very familiar face. His face.

The corpse stumbled forwards, and then it and the ghost both raised a hand. They reached out, and Cole wriggled in an attempt to get out from under a squirming Kai and turned-around Zane as the ghost’s fingers met the corpse’—

There was a very bright explosion.

Cole and the others were all thrown back onto a set of stairs, the hard edge digging into Cole’s gut as his chin slammed against another stair. Ow, that hurt, and now all of Zane’s weight was on top of him instead of just his legs—

Cole shoved Zane off of him, and looked around. The secret hideout was gone, replaced with an old… temple? that Cole didn’t recognize. The floor at ground level was scorched in a vaguely circular shape, two massive doors across the room were wide open, revealing a grassy field and night sky—

And there were six figures all in a heap on the floor, the one in the center sobbing with laughter. Six familiar figures, who all slowly stood while still pressed together.

Lloyd spoke first. “Hey, wait!”

The six strangers turned their attention onto the Secret Ninja Force. For a moment, nobody moved or spoke. Then—

“What the fuck?!”

[nobodycallsmerae]

short n' sweet (mimi's kpop version)

collection of short n' (mostly) sweet fics about my favourite boys !

groups included: enhypen & stray kids

tracklist:

01. taste: student council president!yang jungwon

you can't help but tease your ex's current girlfriend just to get a rise out of her, definitely not because you still have feelings for him.

tracklist to be updated:

02. please please please: sunghoon

03. good graces: seungmin

04. sharpest tool: minho

05. coincidence: jake

06. bed chem: hyunjin

07. espresso: christopher

08. dumb and poetic: (probably will be dropped from the setlist)

09. slim pickins:

10. juno:

11. lie to girls:

12. don't smile:

author's note:

hello lovelies ! as a long time fan, sabrina's sns was an instant favourite of mine, so i wanted to do something that incorporated her music <3

and ofc, why not include the people that have been living rent free in my head these past few months?

some things to remember:

📌as most of the songs depict toxic relationships or talk about relationships that have already ended, but me being an absolute fluff activist, this is to lyk that the fics will not portray the literal meanings of some songs but just the general vibes.

📌and to stay with the theme of short and sweet, the chapters won't be much long (my aim was under 1.5k but then the first part ended up being over 2k 💀) so i'll try to keep the chapters under 2k.

this started out as a thought that i needed to write about someone other than chan and because i wanted to experiment with different characteristics and tropes; and honestly i'm obsessed with each and every one of these fics

(since we didn't get the sab x enha collab we deserved, i'm here to serve)

as this is very experimental and a totally new experience for me, i would truly appreciate any form of feedback, constructive criticism or just you ranting about your fav scene <3 every single comment or tag means the world to me and i could really use any form of motivation 💋

anyway, i hope you all enjoy !

get back to navigation?

[aniwahstan]

The Jegulus 1999 Record Store AU

Ff: Meet on Telegraph Avenue

The one where Regulus moves from London to crash with Sirius in California, then falls for his roommate who is an absolute prick to him for months before he finally admits that he’s in love with him

(Smut below the cut)

They crawl through the window and discard their glasses in the sink on the way to James’ room. Regulus sits on the edge of the bed while James runs a hand over his CD collection. “What do you want to listen to?”

Regulus lays back onto the mattress. “You pick.”

“Alright, but you asked for it.”

Regulus hears the click of the play button. Under the Bridge by the Red Hot Chili Peppers starts to play. Regulus sits-up immediately. “No, why?”

James raises his eyebrows. “What is your problem with RHCP?”

Regulus groans and falls back to the bed. “All of their songs are about doing drugs in California.”

James lowers himself to the bed and lays back beside Regulus. “I know. It’s perfect.”

Their heads fall to the side and James reaches across his body and lays it on Regulus’ cheek. “I’ll distract you so you won’t even know what’s playing.”

Regulus smirks as James rolls on top of him and lets his full weight drop onto Regulus’ body. His hand wanders down to Regulus’ waist and slips under his t-shirt. They kiss for a few minutes before James stands beside the bed. It’s art - how James undoes the second button of his overalls and lets them fall to the floor in one smooth motion.

James makes quick work of undressing Regulus and throwing his clothing to the floor. They laugh in between their tongues in each other’s mouth, a bit sloppy from the alcohol in their blood.

James guides Regulus’ head to the pillows and trails down his stomach with his tongue, then back up again. He takes him into his hand first, making Regulus’ back arch into the touch. When his mouth replaces his hand Regulus throws his head back, letting a shameless groan slip from his mouth as James adds pressure with his tongue. Regulus is going to implode if he keeps going.

James stops just before Regulus loses it, knowing exactly what he’s doing with his torturous pause. He kisses Regulus’ neck and reaches for the drawer beside his bed, finding the condoms and lube that he always keeps there.

James looks at him from above, hovering over his body. “Your turn?”

Regulus’ eyes go wide with surprise. He’s topped before, but it’s rare. Very rare. Guys usually just assume what he likes because he’s smaller, and gentle, and listens to love songs.

James’ eyes swim with unholy desire at Regulus’ surprise. “I believe you promised me a little payback from my actions on the bus.”

Regulus takes the condom between his fingers and leans in to bite James’ shoulder - an impure act to match James’ impure eyes. “Fuck yes.”

James turns and falls to the bed. He watches as Regulus rolls the condom on himself and drips lube onto his hand. James’ gaze never leaves where Regulus’ hand strokes, touching himself and purposefully drawing it out to make James agonize over having to wait.

Regulus climbs over with a leg on each side of James’ hips. He trails his slick fingers down his stomach and returns the patience James gave him, making sure he’s ready and all but begging for more.

“Ready?”

The smirk that crosses James’ face is downright a sin. He nods his head as Regulus positions himself between his legs. He moves in slowly, inch by inch, soaking in every moan from James’ mouth as he pushes further and further. James’ neck cranes as he stays inside of him without moving, pulling James hips into him from below. The feeling of being inside of James barely allows Regulus the mental strength to tease. He wants to make it slow, make it torturously slow. But he’s not that strong. He has to move.

When he’s found his rhythm, Regulus leans up and supports himself with one hand on the mattress, leaving enough space for him to reach between them and tease James with his fingers as they go. When he wraps his fingers around James and starts to stroke him in rhythm with his thrusts, James’ gaze lands on Regulus’ face with a slack jaw. James’ thighs press into the sides of Regulus’ body as he looks down at what Regulus is doing to him. He licks his lips, watching Regulus move in and out with the stare of a hunter. Regulus has a sudden realization, and moves his hand from between them up to James’ neck. He lays his palm on James’ throat, just barely adding pressure.

Out of nowhere, James starts to buck from under him. James’ arms wrap around his back, pulling him into his chest. He whispers directly into Regulus’ ear. “Harder.”

Regulus is blind with pleasure as he moves faster, relinquishing himself fully and burying his body within James. James was right. Regulus can’t even hear the music over their shared moaning and heavy breathing. All he can hear is James’ inhales getting shorter and shorter, which takes Regulus right to the edge with him. Regulus comes just as James lets out a final long groan and throws his head back to the pillow.

[celestiaras]

don’t ask me why it took me so long to watch doppio’s lore video but it’s so well made and

XSOLEIL SPEAKING JAPANESE LIKE ANIME CHARACTERS THEY ARE SO DAMN FINE 🛐

[fushiglow]

since we're all talking about idol au on twitter...

and i'm still keeping you guys waiting for chapter nine… enjoy this HIGHLY suggestive snippet from a VERY nsfw oneshot that i'll only post if you bully me into it 👀

heavy implications below the cut — you have been warned!!

‘Satoru, you and I both know there’s only one effective way to shut you up,’ Suguru growled. ‘And as much as I’d love to make use of it, my pay check relies on that lovely throat of yours being in tip top condition.’ This time, there was a dangerous twinkle in Satoru’s eyes when he dipped the spoon into the honey. ‘Everyone likes a husky voice, Suguru,’ he began, fingers twirling silver through liquid gold in a hypnotic, rhythmic motion. ‘Maybe I’ll sound even better a little roughed up.’ Because he was a weak, weak man, Suguru couldn’t help but follow the movement with his eyes when Satoru brought that spoon direct to his mouth, letting the sticky substance drizzle over his chin, his lips, his tongue. The entire time, those blue eyes never left Suguru’s. Once he’d made a mess of himself, Satoru pressed that pretty pink tongue against the metal, dragging it across the concave edge. He made a delicious little hum of contentment as he swallowed down the sweetness, taking his time cleaning his fingers one by one. Suguru was gripping the table hard enough to break it when Satoru finally spoke again. ‘Isn’t that your job?’ he sang, voice bright and beautiful and bell-like. ‘To make me sound the best I possibly can?’ Midnight overtook those sky blue eyes. ‘So it’s practically your duty, Suguru.’

HAPPY WIP WEDNESDAY TO YOU, i'm running away 🏃

[verfound]

FIC: "Love is a Star" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Read on Ao3

04 September 2024

Prompt 32: Stars (B)

“Have you ever heard of hanahaki?”

He turned his head, looking away from the expanse of stars stretching out above them.  They’d had to drive nearly two hours out of the city to find this spot, but lying there now, looking up at the night sky stretching out above them, he thought it was worth it.

That might have just been the company, though.

A lot of things felt worth it when Marinette was with him.

“Hanahaki?” he asked, frowning as he considered her question.  “That’s the flower thing, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, tapping her fingers against her stomach.  “Kagami was telling me about it.  It’s like…when you can’t confess your love to someone.  Or if it’s unreturned.  Something like that.  Flowers grow in your lungs and suffocate you.”

“Sounds awful,” he said.  She was still staring at the sky, but he was still watching her.  He had the better view anyway, he couldn’t help but think.  “What brought that up?”

“It was in that new book she’s reading,” she said, shrugging a little.  “You know how I’m always late.  She’s started bringing books while she waits on our juice dates.”

He grinned at that.  They hadn’t been drinking juice during their meetups for a while now.

“I dunno,�� she said, shrugging a little.  “It just kinda…stuck with me.  The thought that telling someone you love them could be so paralyzing you just…choke to death.  I’ve just been thinking about it lately, I guess.”

He frowned.

“…you’ve been thinking about suffocating on flowers?” he asked.  She giggled and reached over, blindly swatting at his shoulder.  She missed, hitting his ribs instead, and he moved an arm from behind his head to find her hand.  He smiled once their fingers were linked.  “We have a zillion beautiful stars up there to distract us, and you’re here thinking such morbid thoughts.  If I had wanted to hang out with someone so grim, I would have stayed home or invited Juleka.”

“Jerk,” she laughed, squeezing his hand.  “No, it’s just…I don’t know.  It’s not necessarily the choking on flowers part, but…huh.  I wonder if it’s always flowers?”

He frowned, waiting for her to continue.  She sighed and shrugged, a little awkwardly since they were still lying down.

“Like…I don’t know.  What if you choked on stars?  What if your love turned into a light, so warm and bright inside you you just…couldn’t contain it?  And then it just had to get out, but you’re a hopeless disaster that could never tell the boy you liked you were so nuts about him?” she asked.  She finally turned away from the stars.  Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him.  “I wonder what would hurt more: thorns scratching as they came out or stars burning?  I mean, you’d be dead either way, but I wonder which is worse.”

There was a haunted, distracted look to her face – one that reminded him of days long past filled with plots and schemes and too many tears.  It didn’t sit right with him – it never really had.

“…thank God it’s not real and the answer is neither,” he said, his voice soft.  She rolled her eyes and looked back at the sky.

“Seriously,” she said, huffing out a little laugh.  “I bet I’d have it, if it was.  I’d be dead by sunrise”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said, his voice firmer.  “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?  It’s true,” she said.  She sighed and closed her eyes, her smile turning bittersweet.  “You remember Adrien.”

Of course he did.

“…yeah,” he sighed.  It was hard to forget, some days.  She’d been in love with Adrien for most of the time he’d known her.  He finally looked back at the stars, unable to look at her any longer.  “No offense, Mari, but…I kind of hated him, in the end.”

She frowned, and he knew she had misunderstood.

“He had nothing to do with –” she started, but he shook his head and squeezed her hand again.

“I didn’t care about the Hawkmoth stuff,” he said.  “I know how hard that was on him.  I meant because of you.  I never understood how someone could be so…calloused with another person’s heart.  You deserved better, Marinette.”

“It was all for the best, in the end,” she said.  “Kagami saw him not so long ago.  He’s happy in London.  And it’s been a long time since I would’ve choked on anything for him.”

She closed her eyes, sighing, and he wondered at the little inflection of her voice.  The emphasis she had put on the ‘him’.  He wondered who she would choke for, if not Adrien Agreste.

“No, it’s just…I don’t know.  I just wonder sometimes…” she said, shrugging again.  “Am I just doomed to never be able to tell the people I care about how much I love them, and isn’t that the root of hanahaki?  I’d choke to death in under a week, all because I’m a coward.”

Bullshit, he couldn’t help but think.  She was anything but.  He pushed himself up on his elbows and leaned towards her, his brow pinched.

“…you’d tell me,” he said, his voice firm.  She opened her eyes and looked at him, and they widened just the slightest when she saw him leaning over her.  “You would tell me if you loved me, right?  You wouldn’t put yourself at risk like that.  Especially since you know that’s all I’ve ever wanted to tell you.”

“…I…” she started, but then his hand was on her cheek and his thumb brushed beneath her eye.

“Marinette, promise me,” he said.  “Because there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t return it.  And there’s no way in hell I’d just sit back and watch you die because…God, Marinette.  You wouldn’t do that to me.  Right?”

“…I thought hanahaki wasn’t real,” she said, her voice quiet.  “So why would it matter?”

“It matters,” he said.  “Your feelings always matter.”

She swallowed.  The stars suddenly didn’t seem as interesting anymore, which was kind of a shame.  Luka had put so much work into this trip for her, wanting to get her out of the city so she could finally relax.  You couldn’t see stars like this in Paris, and she was so busy staring at his stupid face she was missing the whole thing.

…she didn’t really mind.  She was pretty sure she had the better view, anyway.

“…of course I’d tell you,” she said softly.  “I’d try, at least.”

“There’s no try, Marinette,” he said.  Her lips twitched with a smile.

“Only do or do not?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes as he chuckled.

“You’d tell me,” he said, ignoring her joke.  “Promise me, Marinette.  Promise me you’d tell me.”

“I’d tell you,” she said.  He sighed, his body seeming to sag with relief, and he nodded.  She swallowed, a pleasant thrumming running through her as she studied his profile in the darkness.  “…hey, Luka?”

“Yeah?” he asked, opening his eyes, and something about the way they glittered in the starlight was making her dizzy.  She reached for his hand again, then seemed to think better of it and reached up to tuck some of his hair behind his ear.  He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, his smile growing.

“I love you,” she said.  Her breath caught as he turned his head and kissed her palm.  She lost it entirely when he opened his eyes to smile down at her.

“…I love you, too, Marinette.”

[uhoh-but-yeah-alright]

Breaking My (Poll) Silence

[demi-goshdamnit]

Luke Castellan being Asian-American

(in this headcanon, Luke is japanese-american)

Luke lived in Connecticut with his mother when he was younger, in a small apartment that used to be home

The first rule he ever learned was to never wear shoes around the place, or else he would've been beaten with a broom or his mom's stolen hotel slippers

Whenever he and his mom go out to eat at restaurants, she would always hoarde the napkins, salt and pepper packets, and the butter in her purse to take home

He and his mother spoke only in japanese alone, but english when there were others. It used to feel like a secret language for Luke

Luke couldn't read katakana, hiragana or kanji— brother can't even read english— so he solely learned through his mother

Sometimes Luke would catch himself cursing in japanese to himself at camp; whether he's training with his siblings or just having fun with his friends

If he's pissed or angry, probably at clarisse or chris, he'll yell out a "ばかやろう (asshole)" or "くそくらえ (eat shit)"

During meals at the pantheon, Luke has rice with EVERYTHING; He doesn't give it up for offerings and sometimes he'll just snack on onigiri's after a long day

Rice was his only connection to his mom, whether he admits it to himself or not

Ain't nun of ya'll catching Luke use any other utensils other than chopsticks and an occasional spoon, bro is committed

On the run, whenever they can, Luke would make stir-fry and fried rice for Thalia and Annabeth, trying to teach them how to use chopsticks and giving up after 15 minutes of miniBeth spilling rice everywhere because she couldn't properly hold it

I think younger Luke would've DREAMED of having a celestial bronze katana; he would imitate the old japanese samurai movies his mom had and even tried using long sticks as placeholders

Luke coming back to the Hermes cabin after a long day, exhausted as fuck and half-conscious, slipping his shoes off and mumbling "ただいま (I'm home)" before falling face flat on his bed

Speaking of Luke's bed, he would definitely give up mattress privileges to others because he's used to sleeping on the floor from 1) constantly travelling on the road for years, and 2) his childhood bed was a futon

"Besides, futon beds are better for your back," Luke reasoned.

[bizarrelittlemew]

pssst hey if you want an Ed/Stede wedding there is one in the epilogue of Something timeless going on 💕 my first multi-chapter fic that i wrote almost a year ago (37k, E, canon divergence/pining while fucking)

[firstkanaphans]

Hey there! Hope I'm not asking for too much, but could you please give us at least one of the three explicit scenes we were rubbed off? (Uninterrupted version ofc) thank you in advance🙏

Okay, first of all, I need you to know that that is the funniest typo I have ever seen in my life. Please slide back into my inbox and tell me if it was an honest-to-god Freudian slip or if you were just being clever—but either way, kudos to you for making me laugh 😂 Per your request, here is the kitchen scene (uninterrupted vers.) because y’all know I love me some domestic fluff. 

For the third morning in a row, Sand woke up to find Ray in his bed. And just like the two mornings before, he couldn’t quite believe that it was real. In only a few weeks, he and Ray had gone from strangers who frequented the same bar to friends. Or, well, something like that. 

Although Sand had a long list of things he had to do, he allowed himself a few seconds to just stare at the boy lying next to him. Ray always looked good, but Sand preferred him like this: sober and carefree without the usual trappings of wealth adorning his body. In Sand’s bed, with his hair un-styled and his designer clothes discarded, they almost felt like equals. 

He smoothed the covers down over Ray’s still-sleeping body and then crawled out of bed, being extra careful not to wake him. Ray needed his sleep.

Every time Sand stayed over at Ray’s house, Ray would offer to feed him, so Sand felt it was only polite to do the same. He couldn’t afford the typical restaurant fare Ray offered him, but he had plenty of food in the refrigerator. He would make it himself.

He was just putting the finishing touches on breakfast when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Something smells good,” a voice said and then a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. 

Sand turned to find a sleepy Ray resting with his cheek pressed against Sand’s back, still wearing the tank top and boxers he had fallen asleep in. “Me or the breakfast?” he asked.

Ray groaned at the corny joke. “It’s too early for flirting. My brain can’t keep up.” He released Sand, but he didn’t go far. He was like a puppy in that way. Instead, he just peeked over Sand’s shoulder to look at the meal he’d prepared. He let out a whistle, low and impressed. “You sure are multi-talented, aren’t you? Thug by night, cook by morning?”

Sand rolled his eyes. “I’m on my own. If I want to eat, I have to cook. Unlike you, I don’t have an Alfred.”

Ray snorted at the insult. “Asshole. I’m not Bruce Wayne!”

No, Sand was pretty sure Ray was richer than Bruce Wayne. Without a word, he picked a plate piled high with eggs, sausages, croissants, and bacon off of the counter and handed it to Ray, who stared at it as if it was poisonous.

“I can’t stomach it,” he whined, trying to hand it back. “I’m still hungover.”

“Just take a bite. Maybe it’ll help,” Sand said, refusing to take the plate. He had spent enough time with Ray to know that he didn’t eat enough. He filled up on alcohol instead. That was one of the reasons Sand had bothered to cook at all. And yet, the look on Ray’s face made it very clear the food was not going to get eaten. “Or how about a black coffee?”

Ray scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t like coffee.” This time when he tried to hand the plate back, Sand took it. 

“Well, what about a hangover pill? That might help.”

“They never do shit for me,” Ray said, crossing his arms over his chest as if it was the pill’s fault and not the fact that he drank like a fish. He was acting like a picky, spoiled child and yet Sand couldn’t let it go. He wanted to help him.

“Water?” he offered as a last resort. Ray shook his head. Sand set the plate back down on the counter, now annoyed. “What do you usually do to get over a hangover, then?”

Ray thought about it and then finally, his face showed an emotion other than contempt. He smirked the same way he did whenever Sand undressed him and then he stepped forward to whisper in his ear. “Jerk off.”

Sand couldn’t help it. He laughed. “You’re a feisty thing in the morning, aren’t you?”

“I’m not kidding! It works,” Ray said, but he was laughing too. “When you do it, your brain releases endorphins. Take a shower after that and”—he shivered as if just the thought brought him pleasure—“it feels damn good.”

“I can’t do it when I’m hungover. I just won’t get hard,” Sand said, staring at Ray fondly. His eyes were sparkling with mirth and Sand would have been able to read the intention in them from a mile away. He had been conditioned to it now. He took a step forward. “So…why’re you telling me this?” 

Ray threw his nose into the air and cocked an eyebrow, but refused to respond. Sand grabbed him by the waistband of his boxers, pulled him closer, and then let the elastic snap back against his skin. Ray jumped.

“You need help?” Sand asked.

Ray closed the distance between them, clearly pleased with the direction this conversation had taken. “Why? You want to?”

Sand did. He always did. He craved Ray the way Ray craved alcohol. He let his hand slip beneath the waistband of Ray’s boxers again, but he never broke eye contact. He wanted to see the way Ray’s eyes darkened, wanted to know that this, at least, was something he could give him.

“What if I do?” Sand asked, so close that when he spoke, his lips brushed against Ray’s. And then, heart racing, he kissed him.

The thing about kissing Ray was that you never knew which version of him you were going to get. Ray vacillated between soft and clingy, wild and passionate—usually depending on how much he’d had to drink—and in both cases, there was an undercurrent of sadness. Of anger. But today, with Ray still recovering from sleep, the negative emotions he fed with alcohol hadn’t yet had a chance to brew. He twined his arms around Sand’s neck and kissed him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. It was an illusion, but one Sand would happily indulge.  He reached around Ray and picked him up.

Ray let out a yelp of surprise against Sand’s mouth, but once he realized what was happening, he laughed. Sand spun them around, set Ray down on the counter, and for a second, they just looked at each other. Ray’s cheeks and nose were red from kissing and even without the clothes or accessories that he usually wore, he was still beautiful. Sand stripped him of his boxers, took him in hand, and began stroking him.

Ray wasn’t yet hard, but he had always been very receptive to Sand’s touch. It didn’t take long before his dick was standing to attention against his stomach, but although he was clearly enjoying himself–bucking up into Sand’s touch—he was almost preternaturally calm. Instead of focusing on his own pleasure, all of his attention was on Sand.

As Sand jerked him off, Ray let his fingers roam Sand’s face, let them stroke through his hair, let them lift his chin and force him to look him in the eyes. Ray was staring at him as if Sand was beautiful. As if what they were doing was beautiful. And it gave Sand a cursed hope. He couldn’t take it anymore. So instead, he buried his face in Ray’s neck and kissed him there.

Almost immediately, as if breaking eye contact had broken some sort of trance, Ray returned to himself. “Fuck,” he hissed, throwing his head back to give Sand better access to his neck. It took less than a minute before he was making the most desperate sounds, whining and begging for release. 

So Sand gave it to him.

Ray came all over Sand’s hand with a delicious, satisfied moan that filled the whole apartment. It was the most beautiful thing Sand had ever seen.

He washed his hands in the sink and then helped Ray back into his boxers. Ray didn’t even try to help, happy to just sit there and let Sand do all the work. Once that was done, Sand picked him up and set him back down on the ground.

“Now go take that shower,” he said, smacking Ray playfully on the ass. Ray yelped in surprise, but he was smiling. “But when you’re done, you have to eat.”

“Come with me,” Ray said, taking Sand by the hand.

Sand rolled his eyes. “Come with you where?”

Instead of answering, Ray reached out and fondled the very obvious bulge in the front of Sand’s pants. “Come take a shower with me.”

“Ray,” Sand protested. This alone had already eaten up enough time in his busy schedule. 

“Please,” Ray begged, eyes wide, lashes fluttering—that goddamn puppy dog pout that Sand still hadn’t learned to say no to.

“Fine,” he relented. Then he let Ray lead him by the hand into the bathroom where they had spent their first night together, both of them beaming.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

When Chay and Kim get back together in the 24/7 AU, Chay expects things to go back to how they were before, and is surprised when they don't. The whole point is that Kim wanted a lover, but didn't want to let anyone close. So he maintained this distance between them, using the D/S dynamic to do it. But now he doesn't need to, anymore. Chay can be on equal footing with him in this relationship. And sure, a little bit of that shone through towards the end, because Kim couldn't help himself, he was falling in love, and that distance became harder and harder to maintain (which made it easier to convince himself to cut Chay off entirely after the RevealTM).

Chay is not at all prepared for a completely, unrestrictedly in love Kim

[mitski-slope]

astralis

“Look!” Hailey pushes herself upright, enraptured. Lia doesn’t even bother to look at the sky until she realises that they’re no longer holding hands. A comet, Northern-Lights-green and streaking carbon, soars through the air, more like a bird taking flight than a compound of heat and rock. A pretty kind of destruction. Decay, made an art. It’s a stroke of fire. Hailey gasps. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She isn’t looking at the comet. “Yeah. It is.”

Hailey, Lia, and everything in-between.

[for @inwayovermyhead (HAPPY BDAY ILYSM <3333333) & beta'd by @cosmozzzz]

[foxcort]

comforter (feyre ver). feyre/tamlin, feyre/cassian au, fluff | ao3

a drabble(ish) series of my favorite feyre ships based off these prompts by @dont-call-my-name-alejandro 💚 / floral banners by saradika.

feyre + tamlin; A waking up because of B getting out of bed to do something. A gets out of bed, finds B, and drags them back to bed.

So distantly it was like being wrapped in a fog, Feyre felt the bed shift, the sheets rustle and the sound of light footsteps retreat from the room with attempted quietness. "Tamlin?" she croaked, some barely risen part of her acknowledging he was gone before she patted the empty space beside her.

With a groan, she rolled from the bed, a flurry of messy hair and barely clad skin, before grabbing her discarded robe from the floor and slipping it on. Feyre sifted her fingers through her hair as she followed the path Tamlin was most likely to take, the cold marble underneath her feet gradually waking her with each step, until she ended up at the threshold of the council room. A fairly new addition to the manor, it was one Lucien had insisted be built to house council for both inner and outer court meetings.

At the moment, only Lucien and Tamlin occupied it, the pair of them standing at the head of a very long, ornately carved table washed in the early morning light spilling from the three large windows framing the eastern wall. Tamlin was dressed similarly to her, which was to say half-dressed at best, in a pair of hastily thrown on pants and a matching dark green, silk robe. A delight to her vision, the robe was left loosely tied and mostly open to expose the muscled, golden skin underneath, accentuated even more by the position of his arms crossed over his chest.

And perhaps she hadn't realized just how much Tamlin's visage was affecting her, for Lucien abruptly stopped talking mid-sentence and took a step back to give the high lord a sharp look of indignation. "I understand I've just pulled you away from your wife, but some decency and decorum would be lovely, Tam."

Tamlin, still half-asleep, gave his emissary a confused look, until whatever Lucien had felt belatedly hit him and his gaze shot to hers like some invisible thread had pulled it. Feyre resisted the urge to kiss him right then and there as he sent her a soft, knowing smile. "Morning, love." His voice was husky, unused and did absolutely terrible things to her self-control.

"No. No, no, no, no." Lucien shoved himself between them even as she stalked closer, her eyes never leaving Tamlin’s. “Just because you—" he pointed an accusing finger in her direction, "—are already prepared for this High Lord meeting, does not mean you can come in here and distract Tamlin when I've finally gotten a chance to prepare him." He folded his arms over his chest, looking every bit a courtier in his formal attire. "Don't forget you are the precise reason I haven't been able to find any time to council him yet, Feyre."

Feyre frowned, her gaze shifting between them, before she declared, "He's hardly dressed for a High Lord meeting."

Tamlin gave a low laugh, his fingers working to tie his robe closed and making her wish she'd chosen a different retort. "Lucien's right. As High Lord of Spring, I'm ill-prepared for this meeting."

"So when the time comes, let the High Lady of Spring take the lead," she challenged, turning her attention to him with a smile that was too predatory to be innocent. "You can sit pretty next to me."

Tamlin's returning smile grew wide, though it seemed he was fighting to control it. He turned to his emissary, a sheepish tinge to his smile now. "I could use the extra rest before they all start arriving."

"Please." Lucien rolled his eyes. "Cauldron knows the two of you don't actually use a bed for its intended purpose."

"A bed can have many purposes, Lucien." Feyre moved closer, looping her hands around Tamlin's neck, who was only too eager to lift her into his arms, one arm slung across the back of her thighs and the other supporting her lower back. "Just because you only use yours for sleeping, doesn't mean the rest of us don't have more creative ideas for it." Lucien gave her an unamused look, but she caught the grin curving Tamlin's mouth as he began to walk them out of the room.

"I'd better see you back in here in an hour, my lady."

Feyre had only a second to shout a replied "Fine!" down the hall, before Tamlin's mouth met hers and everything else was forgotten.

feyre + cassian; A keeping B from getting out of bed by holding them closer, maybe a few kisses here and there. / slightly nsfw!!

"You're terrible."

"Mmhm." Cassian's rumbling response, so close to her ear when he had her trapped in his arms and squeezed against his chest, sent a shiver down Feyre's spine. Cauldron boil him, but he knew exactly how to make her body react. Even when he was half-asleep, and almost as well as she knew how to coax a response from him.

Somehow she managed to remember the reason a sense of urgency had woken her from her sleep, snagging onto it even as the warmth of his arms threatened to envelop her whole. “Emerie’s going to kill me if I show up late again.” She'd promised her friend a morning sparring session with the rest of their training group. Unfortunately, Cassian was Cauldron-bent on making her late to everything nowadays and a tiny, restless part of her couldn't blame him. After all their time skirting around the pull that drew them to each other, after finally admitting what they felt . . . neither could convince the other leaving their bed was worth it.

Feyre froze as he dropped a kiss upon her bare shoulder. “No, she won’t." He sounded like he was smiling. “I told her you'd be training with me today.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, her heart thundering in her chest. “Cassian.”

"Yes, Feyre?" She could feel the teasing smile against her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. Her thoughts were muffled, lost in a collision of a train wreck, the reasonable part of herself drowning in a slew of indecent thoughts just as his fingers curled over her hip. "Should I stop?" He paused his descent and she squeezed his forearm, nails drawing half-moon patterns across his skin. "Would you prefer training with the Valkyries today?"

Frustration flared and Feyre realized he didn't sound so sleepy anymore. No, the bastard was fully awake, tapping those fingers against her hip and refusing to move closer to where she wanted them. "Cassian," she repeated, a growl more than anything.

She felt more than heard his chuckle against her ear, before his fingers dipped lower and she was lost to her pleasure.