#wanna start working on side oc designs but wanna make sure I’m as close as possible to cannon as I can rn

[slightly-warmer-hibiscus-tea]

It’s pretty much cannon that different gangs in Lowtown are associated with different colors right?

Does anyone remember seeing orange mentioned before? Or is it free for grabs?

[bbybluemochi]

bbybluemochi's F.A.Q. ✧･ﾟ

Hi! Arun here! I thought that instead of answering your submissions one by one I’d gather all the frequently asked questions and answer them in a single post (this is a mix of art/OC/commissions related q's)!

Please note that I do read all your messages and I’m so grateful for every one of them!!!! I keep all your words really close to my heart, thank you for liking my art and loving my Ocs as much as I do, it means the world to me <3

What’s the name of your OCs?

They’re called Cotton (the blonde one) and Puppy (the dark haired one). The original idea for them was to make some silly wolf/bunny OCs (that’s why Cotton is called like that, it was supposed to be a joke about her tail…) but somewhere along the way they took over and became something completely different!

Is there a webcomic for your OCs?

Not currently! I don’t have the time or the skills (for now) but I’d love to give it a try in the future! 

I was wondering if you mind people using your OC art as character art/inspiration for DnD?Just games with friends that are for fun, nothing for commercial.

Go ahead! I find that really flattering.

Just out of curiosity, are any of your OCs bisexual?

Both Cotton and Puppy are lesbians. That’s what I feel comfortable drawing since I’m a lesbian myself. If I ever do draw a bisexual OC I’ll make sure to mention it! <3

I think you said Cotton was a dominatrix in a previous ask, but is Puppy on the opposite side of the spectrum or is she just glad to be there whichever way?

Puppy is very much a sub. They both switch (Puppy as a service top and bottom and Cotton as a top and power bottom), but the dom/sub dynamic never changes. Also I wanted to mention that these dynamics do not transcend outside of the bedroom that much, there’s more to them than their kinks but I do love to draw them deep in their submissive/dominant headspaces. 

Are one of the lesbian fairytale characters trans?

I didn’t design either of them with that in mind, but I’m super OK with people headcanoning them as trans!

May I use your art as a header/icon?

Of course! Remember to credit me tho~

Do you allow people to use your art freely?

I don’t allow reposts of my work (not that it matters that much, since almost all my art has been already reposted a million times ))): but I’d really appreciate it if you just shared my posts instead of reposting my art). As for phone backgrounds/wallpapers or stuff like that, yeah!

Do you have an instagram account or other social media, I would love to follow you there.

My main platform is twitter (same @), I post all my drawings there and I’m usually more active over there. Tumblr is kind of like an archive. I really like the community here but I find it easier to reply/interact with people on twitter! As for instagram, I do have an old art account (same @, again) but I haven’t posted in so long. I may start posting there soon if a certain rich guy decides to keep destroying the bird app tho. 

I’ve always thought about this… how do you think it’d look if the aesthetics/styles [of your OCs] were reversed?

I’ll have to explore that in a future drawing, I haven’t thought much about it! 

Do you write fics for your characters or has anyone else written fics about them?

Not yet! A couple of my friends have offered, tho! I usually like to stick to drawing because that’s what I do best, I don’t wanna subject anyone to my writing (it’s not very good,,,,). When I share some of my Ocs stories, I think it will be in comic format. 

What's the story behind your OCs? 

There are several, actually!! I like to put my OCs in different universes. As for now, there’s the Fairytale AU, the modern setting AU (this is the original one), and now the Werewolf/Vampire AU. I also did a drawing of them as spiderwoman and black cat but I don’t think that AU is gonna make a comeback for a while. I’m also planning a scifi AU but I’m not sure I’d be able to pull off that aesthetic with my current art style so I’m still working on it. 

The Fairytale AU is the one I’m working on most of the time. I wanna release a small artbook with their story + illustrations. That was my main goal for 2023 but life got in the way, so maybe,,, 2024??? *crosses fingers* 

Is your shop down? It’s saying that it’s not available.

I open my shop for 1-2 weeks every now and then, that’s why it’s closed most of the time! My plan is to open the store again in september, if i manage to finish all the merch in time! I’ll announce it on my twitter and tumblr account when I do. 

Would you ever share a tutorial on how you make your art?

Yes, of course! I’m not very good at explaining my drawing process but If it helps anyone I’d love to! Just let me know what part of the drawing process you’d like me to focus on, because If i try to make a full illustration tutorial it’s gonna be too long/difficult to follow. 

May I ask what brush do you use for your lineart?

I use a different brush almost every time I start an illustration, I’m not very consistent when it comes to that (I think it’s mainly because I haven’t found the perfect brush yet!). But let me know what illustration you’re curious about and I’ll try to remember which one I used!

Do you come up with poses off the top of your head or do you use some type of reference? I always struggle with them.

It depends on what I’m drawing! Some of my drawings are reinterpretations of paintings (I’m obsessed with pre-raphaelite painters and arthurian legend paintings in general), so in those cases I try to adapt the poses to my art style. Even If I’m trying to recreate an already existing painting I end up changing the poses/proportions a lot along the way to fit my personal taste/art style. 

Other times, I just sketch from imagination (this is more entertaining, I think, since looking at references can make the drawing process a bit tedious). If I find it hard to draw a certain pose/part of the body I will look up references on printerest, no shame in using pictures! If I still can’t find the pose I need I’ll just take a picture of myself (this is like, a last resort for me. I’m too lazy for this). 

My personal advice would be to use references for the pose and then tweaking the pose and trying to make it more personal 

I love the way the armor was designed and rendered! Can you share some tips on designing armor? 

Drawing armor is something I still struggle with most of the time. I think I’ve learned a lot in the past year (please don’t look at my armor drawings from 2022,,,,, sigh) but I still struggle to draw certain poses/angles. My advice is: don’t hesitate to draw non-functional armor!!! There’s always gonna be someone like “actually, that armour makes no sense :)” well !!!! it looks cool as hell so who caresssss !!!!! 

I think it’s more important for you to get comfortable drawing armor before you start beating yourself up for not drawing accurate ones. It takes a lot of practice (I’m still learning!!!), especially if you’re trying to draw historically accurate ones, so start by having fun, and then work your way up from there.

Most of the tips I can think about are really hard to explain without a visual example, so let me know if that’d be a tutorial you would be interested in and I’ll try to make one (I’m cringing a little just saying this bc I swear, my armor skills are so bad compared to some amazing artists out there………..).

Do you allow cosplays your OCs?

YES…. YES PLEASE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM BEGGING YOUUU ILL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!!! *rattles my cage* 

Do you allow fanart of your OCs?

Again,,, PLEASEEEEEEEEE !!! Just tag me so I don’t miss it and remember to give me credits if you do !!!!!!!!!!! :D

I was wondering if you use procreate , clip studio, or similar apps?

A mix of both. I used to draw on procreate only until I got a tablet and now I’m a clip studio user (csp sponsor me please), and now that’s all I use. I’m so used to drawing on PC now that I don’t think I’d be able to go back to procreate, but I still like that app a lot! All my drawings (even the ones I do on csp) always get retouched on procreate because I like some of the effects (*dreamy sigh* chromatic aberration filter,,, love u). 

I wanted to know if the marks Cotton has on her waist are tattoos or like a scar? 

Those are tats! Puppy is a tattoo artist ~~~ (I’m actually not sure if i’ll keep the waist tats on Cotton or if I’ll end up redesigning them,,,)

I was wondering if you take commissions?

Not right now. I also don’t have any plans of opening commissions any time soon! When I do, I’ll post a google forms on twitter and here on tumblr with the prices and type of comms I do. But there’s nothing scheduled. 

Even tho I'm not doing commissions atm, I’m currently looking for illustration jobs (specially book covers), so don’t hesitate to email me at bbybluemochi@gmail.com

That's all for now, thank you for reading!! I think I covered most of the questions, I'll make another q&a post in the future! Bye~~

[void-punktactics]

Fight Club

Shout out as always to @krillissue and @dastardlydandy for letting their little guys have a playdate with my little guy! Welcome to the second instalment of pure fan service (the fans being me and my two actual fans) oc bullshit. I had a great time writing this.

TW for violence as should be expected from something titles Fight Club

Beretta was smart, Beretta made good decisions. Beretta

was going to break that son of a bitch’s nose if he didn’t get away from their brother.

They weren’t being paranoid, it wasn’t an unhealthy paranoia. This time. “August” as he was now called couldn’t be trusted. Not by Beretta and not around Viper. Not around the one thing they managed to keep. It didn’t help that apparently that goddamn worm was hanging around too. Something to worry about later. Right now their concern was on the white haired man they shared a table with.

“So…Beretta? That’s an interesting name-” He’d been trying to make conversation for the past hour, regardless of the failures.

“Do you wanna fight?” They finally interrupted, putting him out of his misery.

“What?” He blinked, a little owlish.

“Fight, big man. Do you wanna have a go in the ring? I’ve been dying for a challenge and you seem like my first shot at one.” And they’d love a chance to show off just what they could do when they were trying.

Viper leaned in close to August, his whisper hardly that. “Say no. She’s insane.” His grin said he didn’t mean it. It still stuck a cord but they brushed it off to raise an eyebrow at August.

A challenge.

“I’m tellin’ you Jangles. She bites, might have rabies.” Viper chuckled, elbowing Beretta in the side until they grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Just enough to hold, not to hurt.

“I’ll show you rabies.” They bite at the air with a wicked grin.

“Sure. I guess we can go a round.” August cut in.

“Great! It’ll be fun. Some no holds barred fun.” Beretta’s grin turned its attention to August.

“Maybe a little holds barred?” He downed the rest of his drink and stood.

“Don’t be a buzzkill, Auggie.” They sniped back.

Paying their tab the three head down to where the fights were starting to die down. It was late in the night and most of the action was over. The ring was clear long enough for Beretta to jump down and claim it for the next fight.

They tossed their jacket up to Viper and made a show of cracking their knuckles. The look he gave them read clear, he didn’t think they’d win. Not without a pity throw. But he hadn’t seen Beretta fight and he couldn’t remember their track record for breaking sparring partners.They’d show him, they would show everyone. It had been a while since Beretta had someone think they were weak and they soaked in the feeling of being underestimated.

They clue back into the fight just in time to dodge out of the way of a fist. They duck under his arm and spin around, kicking him in the back of his knees.

He stumbles but doesn’t fall, whipping around and aiming another punch, Beretta lets it hit. It sends them stumbling back a few steps but it was a weak hit. He was definitely holding back.

“Don’t go easy on me, Nash. Ain’t fun if only one of us is trying.” They taunt, darting forward and putting their elbow in his gut.

It’s his turn to stumble, he may not be Eye anymore but he’s still strong. Stronger than he acts. “It’s not fun if I hurt my friend's sister either. I don’t wanna hear about how annoying it was putting you back together.”

“Boooo. Come on. Fight me!” They duck another punch. “Lazarus.”

The next punch connects and it hurts. It hurts and it's the best feeling in the world. Beretta grins with blood on their teeth and they know that despite the lost memories Lazarus had not lost his abilities.

The fight turns bloody after that. Beretta turns to tooth and nail to work around being outmatched in strength but they weren’t built to be muscle. The good doctor designed them better than that. But there was only so long they could outsmart someone like August Nash. And it was always a tricky thing to put down a man already dead.

They lose. It’s inevitable and Beretta is hauled up out of the ring on their opponents shoulder with a wild smile on their face and blood running from their nose. They would be bruised in a few hours, their nose broken, definitely confused from when they had hit the ground at some point.

It had been a damn good fight.

August dropped them in a chair next to Viper, he had kicked out the last medic for the sake of treating them himself. He had on a knowing little smile, what exactly he knew Beretta’s head hurt too much to figure it out but it was certainly something he was going to be smug about later.

“Told ya’. Rabies”

“Shut it, doc. I think I went a little too hard on her…” He nudged her back into sitting from where they had flopped against his shoulder.

“I c’n take it. C’mon, back in th’ ring big shot. I’ll show ya’.” They slurred, trying to stand only for August to push them gently back into their seat. For how he was treating them now you wouldn’t think he was the one that had done this to them. The thought made Beretta giggle to themselves.

Once bandages and ice had been applied August dismissed himself back to his graveyard for the night. Beretta watched him go with a sigh. 

Viper’s grin was decidedly gloating. “You like him dont you.”

“Tolerate…he ain't half bad.”

[jxngh]

Hey! It's me again with another request. 😅

What about a Hoseok that everyone underestimate and think that just because he's so adorable, a true gentleman and even cheesy that they don't think he can be good at bed.

So, some girls make a bet (idk let's pretend their work colleagues or they're in college, what suits you better) what they don't know is, that Hoseok somehow, actually finds out about this bet, but he's not bother at all, on the contrary, he's beyond thrilled since he's been wanted to fuck hard OC, so this is his chance to prove her how wrong she actually is.

The player will be end up being played.

A good boy with a little a very dirty secret behind doors. What do you think? 👀

hii!! this has been on my drafts for weeks and just finished it! hope you'll enjoy ✨ thank you so much for 600+ followers btw 🥺

if you enjoy my content please consider buying me a coffee 🥺🤍

your sweet boss is made a party for the ones who freshly started work with you. you didn't expect anything less from a gentleman as him. he was always disciplined but never not supportive and adorable. sometimes even cheesy.

you and your work colleagues were in the party. and after some food and drinks - and not seeing him around - they basically started gossipping. you were trying to be friends with the new colleagues but you all were in the same conversation so you kinda had to be in it.

"soo... what do you guys think about your new boss?" asked one of your close colleagues. she loved gossipping and stuff like that, was so fun all the time.

"he's super sweet...i don't know if it's because we're new to be honest." said the new girl. and the new boy added "i feel like he's a gentleman but...we don't know how is he in bed right?" he made a funny voice. you all laughed.

"bet he's not good at bed, seems too soft." your fun friend said while she's taking another bite from the food. and she turned to you before asking. "what do you think, __?"

"i don't know..." you looked at her, then the others. "he seems vanilla but i can't really say if he's bad."

they talked about it a little then the conversation changed.

you were still thinking about it tho. the thing you didn't know was that he heard your talk while he's getting another drink from a table closer to you guys.

after a week from the party, to check your work, he came to your room. at least that was what you thought. you thought that you did something wrong and he was here to show you how to fix it. as he did multiple times before.

but no, here he was showing you the plans of the new design of the office from the computer, too close to your face while he's behind the chair you're sitting at. you couldn't focus on the screen because of him.

and you couldn't decide if it's smell that is making your mind dizzy or the tone of his voice. there was definitely something different today.

"are you even listening __?" he asked and that was when you really started listening. your attention was on his side profile which is looking like he's a painting.

"oh uhm yes. sorry, i got distracted." you confessed.

that put a grin to his face. he came closer to you, leaving a deep breath. you felt small tingles on your neck.

"you're one of my best workers and you always listen carefully what i say, __. is something wrong?" he asked you, eyes traveling to your lips for a millisecond. the gap between you two was so small, you could feel his capturing smell making your mind dumb.

"n-nothing." you stuttered, trying too hard to look at him in the eyes. your mind was screaming at you that you should get back but you just stayed still.

he took a deep breath and tilted his head.

"is this vanilla?"

wha- what was he talking about? why did he just highlight the word? did he hear you talking? shit. you were going to be fired if he did. plus you didn't want him to hear those words, you just said it. ugh.

your eyes widened but you tried to act like he's talking about something else.

"what is?" you looked up at him, his breathtaking features. the grey suit was covering his body so well. damn, you thought.

he looked at you and talked before slightly smirking.

"the colour, __. what else could it be?"

you looked down and gulped before looking at him again.

"i d-don't know sir." you felt your cheeks getting hotter, shit. what was happening to you? you weren't exactly a shy type of woman but the sudden hint made you flustered.

he held the armrests of your chair and turned you to face him, then he gently nipped your chin and made you look up.

"why are you getting red? tell me what's on your mind, baby." he said staying still and leaving only few centimeters between your faces.

him calling you that sent a flutter to your heart. what happened to the sweetest boss you had? and more importantly, why did you want him so bad with just a word?

"thought you were thinking that i'm vanilla, but here you are getting even more red with a 'baby'..."

fuck. he knew. he knew what you've said. you wanted to speak and tell him that he misunderstood or something, at least try to fix this someway. but you couldn't, not when you were that close. you opened your mouth but no words came out. and your brain focused on his breath brushing your lips, he was looking amazing.

"i can prove you wrong baby. bet you'll only think and talk about me." he said before brushing his lips to yours for a second. you closed your eyes. then he watched your face with lust filled gaze of his.

your hand found his neck and pulled him close to a kiss. it was intense, wasn't so slow but not fast either. you felt his hands coming down and holding your waist, then down and grabbing your ass while he sucked your bottom lip. after that he lifted you and made you sat on your table.

he started to give your ass hard squeezes while groaning into your mouth.

"mmmh " he said before spreading your legs and rolling his hips against yours.

he was so hard and you were sure your panties were wet after that kiss. and now he was sucking marks to your neck to collarbone. you loved the feeling of getting marked by him. the way he touched you were mind-numbing.

"mmph, please." you moaned, not able to opening your eyes from the feeling.

he smirked and held your waist tightly. then rolled his hips to yours, it was harder this time.

"name it baby. please what?" he asked leaving a peck to the sweet spot under your ear. it sent tingles to your body, you held his head and pulled him closer. now you were face to face, his eyes were half lidded and full with lust, looking deeply into your ones.

"please sir, prove me wrong." you said breathily.

he smiled for a second, then kissed your lips hungrily. then with a low moan he sent his tongue to meet yours. and yeah,he was so good at it. it was like his tongue is dancing on yours. you couldn't help but whimper.

you felt his hands getting under your dress, playing with the thin waistband while he leaves low grunts to your mouth. the vibration was making you feel some type of way. your whimpers were telling the same thing.

your hands found his belt and unbuckled it without breaking the intense kiss you've having with him. he slid your panties aside and started to rub his hand to your wetness.

"fuck." he breathed havily. "all of this is for me? fuck baby, you make me wanna ruin you."

you smiled and palmed his erection, getting low curses from him. you could feel him twitching.

"i'm ready sir." you said, looking at his hungry expression. your hands were resting on the waistband of his underwear. you slowly pulled it down.

he was long and pretty. and definitely ready to fuck. the gray suit he wore was looking so rich, and the fact that he still had it on was a turn on to you.

he didn't waste anymore time and pushed himself to you in one thrust. your moans and his grunts mixed. he was holding your waist and sucking your neck.

"ah sir, move. please."after checking your face he continued his movement slowly. you could feel every inch of him, he was so deep and filling you so well.

he started to move faster, making you jolt with every push of his hips. you needed to get support from your hands, holding the table tightly.

"such a pretty baby, spreading herself for me on her table, crying under me." he said pulling himself back almost fully. "still thinking i'm vanilla?" he said and pushed himself harder, finding the spot easily. and now he was fucking you rough.

"n-no sir, ohh yes." you replied and felt your high coming, by the way his dick twitches inside of you after every moan of yours you could tell he's close too.

he kept his pace, made you lose control of your moans while he leaves low grunts to your neck, whispers dirty stuff to your ear.

"come as i say pretty." he said and gave deep thrusts, getting faster and going slower and deeper again. your pussy started to clench like crazy. if you weren't being held by him you'd probably fall because how hard he fucks.

"come." he said and you both came, you were a moaning mess.

he pulled himself out and fixed your dress after fixing his suit, getting ready to leave.

"guess i proved it all wrong, huh?" he said, watching your not so out of bliss face. it was a strong high.

"i can't believe i thought that sir." you said looking at his lips involuntarily. you were still between your desk and him. he moved closer and kissed you slowly. then his hands found the marks he left on your skin.

"everybody will know who left these marks on you baby. you can cover it up... or you can keep it and i can take you a proper date tonight. cause this wasn't just sex for me. what'd you say?"

his words made your heart flutter. you couldn't help but smile.

"of course."

taglist : @nglmrk - @allora1233 - @sizzlebangtan4 - @youmyjhope - @raiiisstuff - @alexmin606 - @bookfrog242

.·´ tell me your thoughts about it in here please / can be general talk too i missed y'all 🥺 + ask to be in my taglist!

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 9

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her new friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid. (Baby Spence)

pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer

word count: 4.1k

content warnings: tattooing/tattoo aftercare, mostly fluffy!

A/N: hi! it's been a while since i updated this series, but i love it too much to leave it behind and i'm also always going to be obsessed with sub!spence. anyway, all my tattoos are stick and pokes atm so if some of the tattoo stuff if a little off, i'm sorry!

masterlist

it's really a matter of principle that keeps me bound to the promise. if I were a weaker woman, I would back down from the chair, would have shaken my head and told JJ that no, actually, I will not be getting something permanently inked on my body purely for the fulfillment of a bet.

but with most of the team around me and a couple flutes of champagne flowing through my veins, I give in. it's going to be small, even though I'm not going to see it until it's done. Penelope and Morgan being in charge of the design scares me, though. I start to get nervous that I'm going to end up with a unicorn tramp stamp.

"where are you gonna get it?" Garcia nudges my shoulder once we get inside the tattoo parlor. her eyes are traveling over all the intense artwork, which I can already tell is very much not her style. the walls are covered in intricate prints from past customers.

I think to myself for a moment. if I'm being completely honest, there's one place I've been meaning to get a tattoo, but never have. it's easy to hide, which is good. as long as the design they choose isn't horrifically embarrassing, I'll do it.

"I'm thinking..." I pull the waistband of my jeans down a little until it's right below my hip bone. "there."

"sexy." she says suggestively. I laugh.

"depending on what you guys have decided to give me, yeah." I angle for a hint, but Penny isn't caving.

"are you ready?" Morgan asks, having returned from the front desk area, where he's been talking to the artist. I take a deep breath, peer around at the rest of the team. we look like an odd bunch in here, an assortment of ages all gathered in a dark tattoo parlor.

Spencer's watching me with a concerned expression and I realize that I've been staring around for a decent amount of time. he doesn't say anything, although I've noticed that he's got a certain face he makes right before he does-- and he's making it.

"Clea, are you sure you wanna do this? you don't have to." JJ touches my shoulder suddenly. I realize that they think I'm genuinely worried and I let out a laugh.

"yeah, I'm fine," I turn to Morgan. "lead the way, handsome."

the tattoo artist has me lie down while he preps all his tools, snaps on his gloves. everyone sees me on my stomach and Emily gasps.

"are you getting a tramp stamp?"

"what? no," I giggle. "I'm gonna get it here." I show them the spot I just showed Penelope, and Spencer raises his eyebrows. Prentiss whispers something in Morgan's ear and the suave agent smirks.

"you're gonna like this." Penny grins. I glance at the tattoo artist to see how he reacts to that statement, but he's got a good poker face, unfortunately.

"are you being serious or are am I gonna hate all of you?" I ask.

"maybe a bit of both?" Spencer says in a slightly higher pitch, looking pleased to be in on the joke. I stare at him in disbelief.

"he knows what I'm getting, too?" I point disdainfully. Morgan laughs at the attitude.

"I told him on the way here."

I shake my head slowly and turn my attention to the boy genius, who is hiding a proud smile. there's a boyish quality to it that makes me feel a little better. I have to pull the side of my pants down as I turn on my side for the artist, and a peek of my black underwear makes Prentiss let out a whistling noise. my cheeks turn pink.

"shut up."

"are you ready?" the tattoo guy asks me. it's only then that I notice we're close to actually getting this done. I have no idea what's going on my body-- but there's no time like the present, right?

"sure."

it's the buzzing of the machine when he finally touches the needle to my skin that surprises me more than the pain itself. I feel myself resist the urge to move away, but I'm still enough for him to keep working.

"how's it feel?" Emily asks.

"like getting a tattoo." I wince. Penelope softens, looking between her coworkers guiltily.

"oh no," she complains, then comes over to me and grabs my hand in hers. "is this better?"

I squeeze tightly at the stinging sensation across my thigh, but she doesn't pull away at all.

"yeah." I smile. everyone is watching me intently, so much so that it puts me off a bit. "can we talk about something, maybe? it doesn't help when you're all staring."

"sure," JJ grins. "so..."

the pressure to start a conversation kills any potential for one, and then Spencer clears his throat. "anybody wanna see a cool magic trick?"

I snort and the rest of the team lets out a chuckle as the genius pulls a deck of cards out of his pants pocket. Morgan pats his shoulder. "I hope it works this time."

"it worked last time!" Reid protests, but his cheeks have taken on a slightly rosy hue. I watch him shuffle the mysterious deck and do some fancy tricks that I've never seen before, the corner of his mouth quirking with a sudden air of confidence.

Penelope is still holding my hand, and I can feel the metal of her sparkly rings pressing against my fingers. I choose to focus on the theatrical movements that Spencer is definitely using on purpose instead of the strange, sharp pain.

he fans out the cards and shows them to me, smiling. "pick a card, any card."

"hmm..." I tap my chin thoughtfully and stare at the bright red designs covering the back. I wonder if it's a rigged deck, or if he actually knows tricks. he doesn't seem like the type of person to be into magic. but then again, Spencer is full of surprises. I grab a random one in the middle, pluck it out and memorize it. a red six of spades.

"alright, then..." he grins and slams the deck back into one neat pile, then does some weird shuffling move again and shows the fanned-out deck to Morgan this time. "your turn."

Morgan's gaze flickers between the cards and Reid's face, which is trying to suppress a smile. the dimple on the right side of his cheek twitches once. when Derek taps a card near the end, Spencer nods and does the same thing that he did when I picked one.

except this time, as soon as he's got the whole deck together, he taps them a bit too hard and they go flying. fifty-two-pick-up style, Queens and Kings and Jokers tumbling to the linoleum floor in a defeated descent. my eyes widen and second-hand embarrassment rolls in, followed by the team's stunned silence.

I even feel the tattoo artist falter a bit in his work.

"oh." Spencer says. JJ puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Spence, it's fine."

"no, no, it's not-- I practiced this, like, fifty times last night--" his face is bright red as he drops to his knees. Penelope glances once at you and you return her stare with a pitying expression. Emily goes to help him, then Morgan and JJ.

"let me just..." he gathers up the remaining cards that they hand him, putting them back together into the pile again. I watch as he goes through them, somehow counting at lightning speed before frowning. "we're missing one."

everyone looks around, but it's obvious that there aren't any more stray cards lying about. I feel bad for him, not only because it didn't work but because he practiced it so much. I've been wondering what he does on the weekends-- magic tricks never even crossed my mind.

then Spencer's face lights up.

he comes over to me and gestures to my side, right by the spot where the tattoo artist is working. "may I?"

"uh--" I glance down at where he's pointing, the small patch of bare stomach. "sure?"

his fingertips graze beneath my tummy, between my skin and the smooth leather of the tattoo table, and snatch a card out from under me. it's barely a touch, but my breath hitches in my throat. my fingers tighten just slightly around Penelope's.

he holds up a red six of spades. the enormous grin on his face gives him away. "this wouldn't happen to be your card, would it?"

I gasp and nod, amazement on my face before it's wiped away by the sharp pain of the needle. Spencer displays the red six of spades to the whole team, then basks in their surprised applause.

Emily's smiling in disbelief. "you really had us going for a second."

"wait, wait--" I poke his leg and Spencer turns to me. "how did you do that?"

there's no way he could have hidden it there without me knowing; if he had slipped a card beneath my bare skin, surely I would have felt it. but the magic man just shrugs and shakes his head at me.

"a good magician never shares their secrets, Clea."

this time, the blush spreads over my cheeks. he's cocky right now, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not enjoying it. he's in his element, I realize, even if it is an unexpected one. and as he puts the cards into his back pocket, the group erupts with questions.

he's done magic before in front of them, but they seem to be awestruck by his performance this time. admittedly, I think the whole klutz act really added a nice dramatic element to it.

I'm mostly quiet for the rest of the tattooing process, although everyone else is chattering about the trick and how well the ink is going to turn out. I'm still wracking my brain for ideas of what they chose, but I honestly don't know. I've been banned from peeking.

maybe this was a mistake-- I've only recently joined this team, and already allowed them to decide what's going to be on my body forever. at least it's small. and maybe I'll actually like it; who knows?

when the artist lets out a satisfied sigh and turns the needle off, however, I find myself twisting around and staring frantically at the new design.

"oh my god."

it's a tiny airplane, with two dotted loopty-loops behind it. just small enough to be adorable.

"what do you think?" Garcia asks, eyeing it herself. they all gather around to admire the new design that sits on the outside of my upper thigh. I giggle.

"I love it."

"don't sound so relieved." Emily laughs. I can't help the bubbly excitement in my stomach.

"sorry, I just didn't know what to expect."

Spencer is staring at the ink when he turns to the tattoo artist. "how long until you think it'll be healed?"

the guy stands up to get treatment stuff for it. "I'd say about two weeks, but it varies from person to person." he leaves to grab cling film.

"I thought for sure you'd be the one to know that." I smirk at the genius. he shoves his hands in his pockets, makes sure the artist is out of earshot, and then looks back at you.

"I do know." he scoffs.

"uh huh." I laugh.

"actually, for the record," he lowers his voice. "I'd recommend at least three weeks instead of two. the last thing you want is infected flesh."

"yum, Spencer. thanks for that image." I smile with wide eyes and he shrugs.

...

it's quiet when I shut the door of my apartment shut behind me. I've got a bag full of supplies with me to clean the new art, and I'm feeling lethargic after getting lunch with the team. because Rossi wasn't around to foot the bill, I made the mistake of offering to pay.

we've got the day off after the most recent slew of cases, so I've determined to spend the rest of my day well. I could curl up with a nice documentary, or I could scrub my kitchen and do a little tidying up around here. god knows the film of dust on my bookshelves needs to be wiped away.

oh my god.

am I boring? maybe. possibly.

I shake the thought from my head and bring my things into the kitchen to organize. after spending a few hours cleaning up, I go out grocery shopping, then come home to sit down with a book. my errands take up so much time, I don't even notice the DC sunlight sinking beneath the harsh lines of the city, drenching my apartment in a silky darkness poked through with lit lamps.

it's already 9pm and I kind of want to hang out with someone, but I doubt any of the team wants to spend any more time with me than they did before lunch. or they might have plans with their families.

well, I know one person who definitely doesn't have plans.

I pull out my phone and hit Spencer's contact before I can talk myself out of it, knowing full well that it's not a big deal but still becoming a little nervous. it rings three times before he picks up.

"hello?"

"hey, Spencer."

"Clea. what's-- what's up?" he sounds more confused than anything. probably because I just saw him about an hour ago.

"I know it's late, but do you wanna come over? I'm bored and I feel like you know more about tattoo cleaning than I do." it's a weak excuse.

"why would I know more about tattoo cleaning--"

"you know damn well why, Reid," I laugh. "don't fish for compliments."

there's a slight laugh on the other end of the line before he replies. "I'll be over soon."

I wait patiently, preparing two mugs of coffee in the meantime. I'm sure we'll both want the caffeine, because I have no urge to turn in early tonight. my stomach twists a bit when he calls to tell me he's here, and I go to let him in. I'm not nervous.

except I actually am a little bit nervous when I open the door and there's Spencer with a shy smile and a coat that's a bit too big for him. it hangs off his narrow frame, and I realize that it must have just started raining. his hair is wet and there are dark spots on his clothes where the water has seeped through.

"get inside, my god." I move aside so he can come into the apartment and warm up. he walks in, looks around at my walls. I realize that he's never been here before. "welcome to my humble abode, Dr. Reid."

"it's nice." he compliments without much emotion. I lock the door and turn just in time to see his hand shaking at his side.

"thanks. let me take your coat." I glance out the window, where I now notice the rain pelting the glass.

Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hesitantly lets me hang it on the hook by the door before turning to him with my hands on my hips. "so, how are you?"

"I'm good," he smiles a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I actually read an article on the way here about those psychedelic mushrooms we were discussing the other day."

"is that, like, our thing, now?" I joke and gesture to the couch, where two mugs of hot coffee rest on coasters. he sits down gingerly on the cushions, sitting at the very opposite end of the couch from me.

"I can send it to you, if you'd like." he smiles.

"please do. I've been hoping for some titillating reading, recently." I hand him the mug and he stop before taking a sip.

"how many sugars did you put in this?"

"relax, genius, I'm not out to get you--" I catch his eye. "yet."

he giggles and takes a sip, then another. the smile tugging at my lips is too obvious for my liking; I'm just glad that I got the amount of sugar correct. it would have been funny to ambush him with a sweetness attack, although I think making him come here in the rain was punishment enough.

"have you ever had oat milk?" he asks out of the blue. I frown.

"yeah, why?"

"just wondering. I'm lactose intolerant and was considering trying it."

"you're lactose intolerant?"

"mhmm." he nods enthusiastically.

"I watched you eat three yogurt cups in a row yesterday." I chuckle at the memory of it. he eats so much and remains as skinny as a telephone pole.

"I love dairy." he shrugs it off. I pull my legs up beneath me on the couch and give him a serious expression.

"well, personally, I think oat milk tastes horrendous and it makes me want to vomit, but you should try it."

"noted."

we start to talk about various nondairy alternatives for coffee and it ends up being a surprisingly fun conversation. talking to Spencer has its own charm-- it's not just a conversation, it's a fully immersive experience. from his ambitious vocabulary to the unconscious gestures he makes, all of it keeps me hooked.

I rest my cheek on my palm, elbow leaning against the back of the couch while I nod along to him talking about almond farming. he's got a disdainful expression on his face as he brings up its environmental consequences, punctuating every few sentences with another sip of his coffee.

the rain is still pouring outside. thunder occasionally rolls over the sky and shakes the windows in their panes. my eyes flit from his face to the view when a flash of lightning catches my attention.

"--sorry, we should clean your tattoo." he seems to catch himself mid-thought, realizing that he came here to help me and not just rant about the business of almonds. I smile.

"no worries. this stuff is interesting to me, too."

"there's this documentary out now about it, too, that I've been meaning to watch."

"really?"

"yeah!" his face lights up. "if you want, we can--" he clears his throat. "we can watch it together."

he blushes as he says it, and I can tell that he's worried about how his intentions will come off. he can't take it back, so he runs the pad of his index over his middle finger and fidgets in a subtle way.

"that sounds like fun." I don't want him to feel weird. we've only hung out a few times, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.

"great," he straightens and adjusts his shirt, which has gotten slightly rumpled from his curling up on the couch. his tie is crooked, too. "where are the cleaning supplies?"

"in the kitchen."

"perfect, we should be doing it in there anyway." he stands, pushes a bit of his hair behind his ear while he waits for me to follow-- and I do, albeit with a wince from my tender side. it doesn't hurt as much as I expected.

he follows me into the minuscule kitchen and doesn't hesitate to start going through the things the artist gave me to take home. there's some foam wash and special moisturizer for it, not a lot. it's small enough that the care will be minimal, which is reassuring.

it's only when Spencer's washing his hands that I realize I'll need to unbutton my pants again in order to reach the tattoo. which means this is about to get at least slightly awkward for the both of us.

he turns around just in time to see me unzipping my jeans and his eyes widen.

"how else do you expect to clean it?" I laugh, and he gulps, visibly. his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and he nods in understanding.

"y-yeah, of course." his eyes are everywhere but on me. suddenly, my kitchen walls are incredibly interesting.

I shove down the waistband of my pants until they're just below my upper thigh, then I sit up on the counter and clear my throat. "I can cover some of myself if that makes you more comfortable."

"no, no, that's okay--" he speaks too quickly, then recognizes his mistake. "it's okay. this shouldn't take very long, anyway."

without another word, I shrug and watch him delicately peel away the film. his fingertips are back to barely touching my skin, just like when he pulled that card out from beneath me, and I stop breathing for a moment.

there's also a gel-like substance under the covering, which he tells me is just standard petroleum jelly. Spencer moves with a near surgical (and altogether unnecessary) precision. his eyes are glued to my skin as if forcing them not to stray to my now exposed panties. it doesn't feel sexual at all because it's not, thankfully.

when he uses the foam wash and begins to rub it into my skin, he frowns with concern and looks up at me. "is this okay? you can do it yourself if--"

"it's fine, Reid," I answer too quickly this time. heat rushes to my cheeks. "I honestly thought this was going to be a more complicated process than it really is."

"it's pretty simple, especially for something this small." he shrugs. "obviously, you don't want to get it infected, so I'd just think of it as treating a cut."

silence in our respective positions at the moment makes me nervous, so I change the subject.

"magic tricks, huh?" if anything, I need to distract myself from the way his hand is rubbing over my skin in a totally nonsexual and platonic way.

he relaxes a little, lifting his gaze to mine with a somewhat pleased countenance. "yeah, I love magic."

it's like peeling back a corner of wallpaper and seeing a shade of red beneath; not a lot, but enough to pique my curiosity. "a man of science?"

Spencer shakes his head at the air of faux sophistication I pour into it. "the world needs some wonder."

he says it in an offhand way, although I feel the weight of it from the way he runs a damp paper towel over the last of the cleansing foam. his touch presses into me and his eyes are lowered in a slightly distant way.

"how long have you been into it?" I fight the urge to ask a million questions at once.

"since I was a kid," he jerks back to attention. the grin on his face tells you just how special this is to him. "I used to buy all the books and practice for my mom constantly."

"did you ever do the trick with the never-ending string of handkerchiefs?" I recall one of the only classic moves I know. Reid laughs.

"that one's easy."

"what about the coin behind the ear?" I throw out another one.

Spencer straightens, doesn't even bother to set down the paper towel, before reaching up behind my ear and pulling away with a shiny quarter set between his thumb and forefinger. "you mean this one?"

there it is again, that confidence I saw in the tattoo parlor. he's standing just close enough for me to notice, and I grin as I snatch the metal out of his hand and set it on the counter beside me. "thanks."

"no problem." he laughs.

"you should do that more often."

"the coin trick? I'd go broke." he jokes. I laugh at the rare appearance of Spencer's playful side, hoping to get a bit more of it before we have to go back to being serious at work.

"magic in general, I mean. I think it would brighten up the office a bit."

he thinks about it for a moment, washing his hands again. the sound of the faucet reminds me to put my lotion on my leg. I get to it while he thinks of what to say.

"yeah, maybe you're right."

"I still find it funny that you're into that kind of stuff." I say honestly. of all the things for him to nerd out about, this feels almost comically unexpected. but Reid only gives me a shy smile before replying.

"it always made my mom laugh when I was a kid."

"is she also good at it?"

"tricks? no," he chuckles. there's a washcloth between his long, slender fingers that he's been using to dry them for the past two minutes. at this point, I think he's doing it to keep from fidgeting. "she says it's an old fashioned thing, and that only made me wanna do it more."

"well," I cap the bottle and set it down on the counter, pull my jeans up and lean against the counter with a smile. "I like old fashioned."

Spencer gives a friendly smile. "me too."

taglist (add yourself here or message me to be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @donald4spiderman @awritingtree @gingeraleluke @bewitchedbibliophile @multixfandomwriter @xoxomgg

[seanfalco]

Happy Birthday Winnie | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98​

Word Count: 7k Warnings: Recreational drug use, alcohol, smut, public sex

[ masterlist ]

"So, where are you guys takin' me?" Win asked again curiously.

"For the thousandth time, you'll see when we get there," her Nathan exclaimed with a laugh. "Maybe we shoulda blindfolded her too," he muttered, glancing over at his twin.

"That would've been nice, wouldn't it, babe?" Lyddie's Nathan teased before biting her neck softly.  

"Don't worry, it's gonna be amazing, you're gonna love it, I'm sure of it," Lydia put both hands on Win's shoulders, massaging her.  "Now relax and enjoy your day."

"Mmmm," Win hummed, the sound turning into more of a moan than anything under their attention.  "I guess I can do that," she joked, letting her eyes slip shut. 

"That's a good girl," her Nathan teased, taking her hand to give it a squeeze as he looked out the train window.

"Fuck, I hate when you say that in public..." Lydia shuddered while still massaging Win's shoulders.  "I look like a nymphomaniac with zero self control." 

"And where's the lie, Lollipop?" her Nathan leaned back with a laugh, reaching into her backpack for more snacks.

"Mmm, you can call me a good girl any time," Win taunted.  "Besides, if you're a nympho, Lyds, then so am I," she laughed.  

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Win's Nathan murmured, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah, maybe my mum was right when she said I'd find my crowd," Lyddie looked out the window.  "I think we're almost there!" she cried, holding Win tightly. 

"How d'you know that?  Have you been here before?" her Nathan asked in the middle of devouring a tin of cookies.  

"Once, when I was a kid, but it's been so long..."

Win snagged a biscuit before leaning closer to the window to see if she could get any idea of where they were going.  All she could see were crowds of people and tents.  "Is this some sort of festival?" she asked excitedly.

"Might be... why?  Does the birthday girl like this sort of thing?  I had no idea!" Lydia gasped dramatically.  She had the idea a few months back.  She thought it would be nice to take a little time off and be as far away from Win's family as possible on her special day.

"Oh my God," Win exclaimed, turning back to throw her arms around Lydia.  "This is the best birthday gift.  Thank you thank you thank you!"

"So I guess you like it then?" Lydia joked, hugging Win back.  

"What kinds of drugs d'you think they got in there?" Lyddie's Nathan mused. 

"Nathan!  Probably all of them, but we're not doing that, not after what happened at the club,” Lydia snapped. 

"What, wou almost shaggin' me at the car park?" he snorted.  "We're here, might as well try somethin'... we're immortal."

"I'll do some Molly," Win murmured with a smirk.  "It's not a proper festival if you're not a little high," she teased, winking at Lyddie's Nathan.

"As always the mum of the group is gonna have to take care of everyone..." Lydia rolled her eyes. 

"Nah, c'mon!  Do it with us!" her Nathan pouted. 

"Forget it, I'm not gonna be peer pressured by my fiancé, no way.  It's Winnie's first birthday in this dimension, I wanna remember it."

"Aw, maybe I shouldn't then," Win deliberated as they got up to exit the compartment.  "I don't wanna make Lyds be the designated driver, as it were." 

"But it's your birthday, babe, you should do what you want," her Nathan argued, following her out.

"That is true, you are the boss," Lydia grabbed her backpack before Nathan could reach it.  "I don't really mind it, you're too adorable for me to be upset." 

"And I'm not?" her Nathan asked, perplexed.

"I think you're adorable," Win exclaimed with a smirk.  "I think you're all adorable," she teased, throwing a cheeky grin over her shoulder at them before climbing down the steps to land on the platform outside.  "Looks like it's a bit of a walk," she noticed, shading her eyes from the sun overhead.

"I'll give you a piggy back ride if y'want," her Nathan offered.

"D'you want me to carry you too?" Lyddie's Nathan asked, poking Lydia’s arm. 

"Ha, very funny..." she muttered, putting her beach hat on.  "Take the backpack, and be careful, there are breakable things in there, breakable gifts," she whispered, following the others.

Once they made it to the entrance, Win's Nathan let her down and they showed their tickets to get in, getting coloured wrist bands so they could drink. 

"Okay, let's find the schedule," Win exclaimed, bouncing on her toes to look around, lost in the sea of people.  "Then we can figure out which acts we wanna see and plan our day."

"Here, I have it on my phone somewhere..." Lydia searched for a few seconds before showing it to Win.  

"D'you have any more food in there?" her Nathan whined, opening the backpack, but was surprised with a black velvet box.  "Lollipop, c'mere" he pulled her to the corner. 

"What?  If you keep eating everything there will be nothing left for the rest of us..." 

"No, not that, what's this?  Are you gonna... y'know... pop the question?" 

"Oh my God!  No, I got her a bracelet, why?  Do you think she's gonna be disappointed?"

"Okay, I think I've decided which act I wanna see first," Win announced, handing Lydia back her phone, noticing the looks on her and her Nathan's faces.  "Everything okay?"

"Brilliant," Lyddie's Nathan smiled, quickly closing the backpack.  "Let's go then." 

"Well, do you?" Lydia muttered under her breath, she hadn't even considered that, but now she definitely was. 

"No, I don't think so, it's a nice surprise," he assured.  "I just thought... y'know.  You're very romantic, I thought this was another cinematic stunt."

Win led them to the stage for the act she wanted to see, the music having already started.  “I still can’t quite believe I’m here.  I’ve wanted to come to this festival forever.  You guys are the best.”

"Seeing you happy is my gift," Lyddie embraced Win from behind as they danced together.  Her Nathan disappeared for a second, returning with four bottles of hard lemonade which Lydia was reluctant to drink at first, but she wanted to have a good time with them.

“Thanks babe,” Win exclaimed, trading him a kiss for the bottle, bringing it to her lips as she swayed with Lydia.  Once that set was up she excitedly pulled them with her to the next band she wanted to see, the stage on the other side of the field.

“Hey Lyds, I know I probably don’t have to ask, but d’you have any sunscreen in that bag of yours?” Win asked, reaching for the zipper.

"Yeah sure," Lydia was already a little buzzed and didn't even remember the velvet box inside.  "I brought like four bottles just in case, Nathan did that thing Hermione did to her bag in the Deathly Hallows, anything we might need is in there."  The boys couldn't bother either, they were too busy sharing a joint to even realize what Win was doing.

“Nifty,” Win exclaimed, reaching in the bag and feeling around.  “What’s this?” she asked, pulling out the little box before finding the bottle of sunscreen.

"Oh, that’s... that’s a gift for you, I was gonna wait until later when we're alone," Lyddie murmured, remembering her Nathan's words and hoping Win didn't get the wrong idea.

“Oh!” Win exclaimed, quickly dropping the box back into the bag.  “I don’t wanna ruin your surprise!” she said instead, quickly zipping the bag back up.

"Don't worry, you're gonna love it... I hope you will..." Lydia took the sunscreen and tossed the bag to her Nathan while she helped Win apply it.

“I’m sure I will,” Win murmured.  “I wonder what it is,” she mused with a grin before turning to reach toward Nathan.  “Here, gimme that joint,” she exclaimed.

Lyddie's Nathan passed it to her with a smirk.  "D'you want some, Lyds?" 

"No, thank you," she answered, almost getting distracted as she ran her hand up and down Win's chest.  "I'm pretty sure you're the people they warned me about in D.A.R.E," she joked.

Win laughed, offering the blunt back to Nathan before pulling Lyddie in close to kiss her.  “Thanks for helping me, now I won’t burn,” she murmured.  “Do you need any help?”

"You know, I did put on sunscreen before we left the train, but I won't complain if you wanna put your hands all over me," Lyddie mumbled against Win's lips.  "Or other parts of you..."

“Mmmm, I like th’way you think,” Win murmured, playing with the hem of Lydia’s shirt.  “Hey boys, we gotta use th’restroom, we’ll be right back,” she said, stealing one more hit before pulling Lydia with her to go look for a secluded spot to snog.

"Can you believe that?" Lyddie's Nathan exclaimed, watching as the girls disappeared in the crowd.  "Won't even invite us..." 

“Don’t worry bout it, I’m sure by th’end of the night we’ll be gettin’ lucky too.  Might see if anyone’s got some molly though, since Win mentioned it earlier...” he mused. 

"Yeah, yeah," Lyddie's Nathan agreed, following his twin.  He really wanted to see how Lyds would be like high, but he wasn't gonna push her. 

Lydia happily followed Win until they found a space behind the stage where they could be alone.  "So... what could you possibly wanna do away from everyone?" she asked, flashing her girlfriend an innocent smile.

Pinning Lyddie’s back to the wall she finally let her hand slip under her shirt to feel her as she kissed her neck.  “Just wanted t’put my hands all over you,” Win answered as she worked her way up to her lips.

"Oh, Winnie," Lydia gasped.  She loved how hot Win's skin felt, how close her breathing was.  "Only you can make me feel like this," she sighed, sliding her hands down her girlfriend's back.

“Only me?” Win asked softly, Lyddie’s words warming her making her feel incredibly special.

"Only you," it was true, each of her lovers made Lydia feel amazing in a different way, and only Win was able to leave her breathless like that.

Win moaned as she slipped her tongue into Lydia’s mouth, her hand sliding down the front of her shorts.  “Be good and be quiet for the birthday girl,” Win murmured teasingly.

Win's words made Lydia shudder and she nodded obediently.  "I'll be quiet," she whispered, letting her eyes shut as she enjoyed the feeling of being touched like that.  "Anything for you."

“I may be waiting for my other gift, but I want this one right now,” Win teased, circling her fingers around Lyddie’s clit as the music washed over them from the nearby stage.  “I wanna make you come, baby,” she purred.

"You're so good to me," Lydia breathed before her lips were on Win's again in an effort to silent her needy moans.  She couldn't believe they were actually doing this out in the open; it was risky, but that only made Lyddie hotter.  "Winnie, I'm--"

“Good girl,” Win groaned, capturing her lips as she felt Lydia shudder as she came.  “Fuck that was hot.  You’re so sexy, Lyddie,” she purred, pulling her hand from her shorts and bringing her fingers to her mouth to clean them.  “We should probably find the boys, I bet they’re getting jealous by now.”

"They can be jealous all they want," Lydia kissed Win once more before taking her hand.  "Right now I'm yours," she took a deep breath, trying to recover.

——

"Oh, finally!  What were you two doin' in the bathroom all that time?" Lyddie's Nathan asked. 

"That's not something you ask people, Nate," Lyds mocked.

“Takin’ a massive dump, since y’asked,” Win joked, pulling him into her arms for a kiss.  “Why, were you feeling neglected?” she teased, already feeling light and floaty.

"A little bit, yeah," Lyddie's Nathan huffed.  "We got you a little somethin', but I don't know if you deserve it anymore... maybe we'll just keep it all for ourselves," he looked back at his clone and winked.

“It’s my birthday, and there’s plenty of me t’go around boys,” Win replied, glancing from Lyddie’s Nathan to her own, pouting at them.  “But if that’s how you’re gunna be, I’ll just go off with Lyddie again,” she said, taking a step back from Lyddie’s Nathan.

"No, don't!" he yelped, reaching for her.  "I was just screwin' around, I love you, baby, c'mon..." 

"Awww, you're adorable," Lydia teased him, squishing his face between her hands.  "So cute when you're jealous." 

"You two are gonna end up killin' me," Lyddie's Nathan grumbled, taking Win's hand and handing her a small plastic bag with colorful pills in it. 

"Good thing you're immortal then."

Win, grinned as she took the baggy from him, pouring the tablets out into her hand.  “Ahhh thank you babe.  Okay, who wants one?” she asked, placing one on her tongue before her Nathan obediently opened his mouth for her to give him one.

Lyddie's Nathan opened his mouth as well and looked at his fiancé hopefully. 

"Stop giving me that look!" Lydia said, shaking her head. 

"Okay... but I think you'd have fun," he muttered.  "If somethin' happens, just do your Wolverine thing and cure yourself." 

"First of all, since when do you know about Wolverine?  And second of all, if this shit reverses my powers, it won't be pretty!  I'll probably have an asthma attack or some shit." 

"It won't!  It's gonna be okay." 

"Ugh, if my mum knew about this... alright, hit me," Lyds grunted before sticking her tongue out.

“Okay, here we go,” Win exclaimed, giving Lyddie the last pill.  “Just enjoy it Lollipop,” she murmured, chasing the pill with a kiss.

The sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon as they headed toward the food trucks parked off to one side.  

“God, I’m starving,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, leaning against Lydia, his other arm draped over Win’s shoulder.

"Me too," Lyddie leaned back against him.  "I want something with a lot of cheese, and then I want soda." 

"Y'can't have soda, baby," her Nathan laughed.  "That'll give you a stomach ache." 

"Fiiiine you buzzkill, juice then," she took Win's Nathan's arm.  "It's so weird that I took the pill, but I don't feel any different." 

"Just wait, Lollipop, you'll see."

Once they got their food, Win found a nice empty spot in the grass for them to sit, the drugs starting to take effect, washing over her and heightening her senses.  Crawling into Lyddie’s Nathan’s lap, she moaned around her bite of food, the burger she’d gotten tasting better than anything she’d ever eaten before.

"Wow, okay," Lyddie's Nathan was taken by surprise when Win got on his lap, but he snaked his arms around her, wanting her to stay.  

"You look so beautiful right now," Lydia watched Win's Nathan while eating her pizza.  She still didn't feel any different, or so she thought.  "Like, I'm really hungry, but if I wasn't I'd kiss you."

“You want a kiss, Lollipop?” he asked, smirking as he set aside his nachos, sucking the leftover cheese sauce from his fingers. 

"More than anything," Lydia smiled, taking his fingers in her mouth before pressing her lips to his.  "Hmmm, you're so hot." 

“You’re hotter,” Win’s Nathan countered with a smirk. 

"I don't believe you," Lyddie, shoved the rest of her food in her mouth. "You and Winnie are the hottest people in this festival."

"Aren't you forgettin' anyone?" her Nathan teased. 

"Oh, you have the same face, of course you're included," Lydia huffed. 

“God, I feel good,” Win murmured, leaning back against Lyddie’s Nathan’s chest.  “The stars are starting to come out.”

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Lyddie's Nathan ran his fingers through Win’s hair.  "Like you," he murmured, kissing her cheek before going back to his kebab.

“Aw, you’re sweet,” Win giggled, finishing her food and stretching.  “I’m torn,” she whined. “I wanna go dance, but I’m also really comfortable right here.”

"I'm full, I kinda wanna listen to music and relax," he said, holding Win close.  

"If you want, I'll dance with you later," Lydia offered, without taking her eyes from Win's Nathan while she fed him his nachos.

“That sounds perfect,” Win murmured, turning in Lyddie’s Nathan’s embrace to get comfortable, resting her cheek against his shoulder as she gazed up at him, playing with the strings on his hoodie. 

“Now this is paradise,” Win’s Nathan sighed.  “Good music, a hot girl feedin’ me,” he murmured with a grin.  “I could get used t’this.”

"Oh, it's paradise alright," Lydia licked her fingers clean when she was done, and offered him her drink.  "Was it good, Natty?"

“So good,” Win’s Nathan replied, taking a long drink before passing the straw back to her, pulling Lydia into his lap.  After all, nearly every couple in the grass around them were in similar positions, snogging or cuddling.

Lyddie's Nathan smiled before leaning in to press his lips to Win's, taking his time to savor her kiss.  "We wanted t'make sure things were perfect for your big day." 

Win moaned into Lyddie‘a Nathan’s mouth, pulling him closer. “It’s more than perfect, you’re perfect,” she assured him, her head spinning, her body aflame with pent up need, the drugs heightening every sense.  Just feeling his hands on her skin was driving her crazy. 

"I love you, Winnie," Lyddie's Nathan kissed her back, matching her enthusiasm.  That's when he had an idea, remembering the day he proposed to Lyds -- he’d made her come by licking a lollipop and using his power to mirror the sensation on her clit -- deciding to do the same thing, this time he took Win's hand and gently stroked her palm. 

"I don't know why, but... I feel hornier than usual," Lydia whispered, running her hands under Win's Nathan's shirt, along his chest and his stomach.  “Kiss me, I wanna taste you."

“That would be th’ecstacy, m’love,” Win’s Nathan chuckled, shivering under her touch.  “C’mere,” he growled playfully, slipping his hand behind her neck to pull her closer as he opened his mouth to her.

With a soft moan, Lydia captured his lips.  "Remind me why they say drugs are bad again?" she joked, pulling him closer tugging at his shirt.  "I want you, Nathan, I've never wanted anything in my life like I want you right now."

“I love you toooo—“ Win gasped as the sensation hit her and she squirmed in Lyddie’s Nathan’s lap.  “Nathan, are you—doing this, or am I going crazy?” she asked, her breathing turning heavy. 

"What?  D'you feel somethin'?" Lyddie's Nathan asked, faking confusion while still rubbing the palm of Win's hand firmly at a steady pace.  "What's wrong, sweetheart?" 

Win glanced down at her hand, noticing that the sensation seemed in sync with the movement of Nathan’s fingers.  “Oh, you sly dog,” she moaned, biting her lip as she threw her head back.  “Why have you never done this before?  This is so fuckin’ hot.  Jesus, Nathan,” she breathed.

Win’s Nathan laughed harder, looking around, frowning at Win and his clone, unsure what exactly was happening, but Win looked like she was having fun.  “Let’s go for a walk, find somewhere t’be alone,” he whispered in Lyddie’s ear.

"Oh, I love how everyone's taking me for walks today..." Lydia grinned, taking Win's Nathan's hand, giggling just imagining what he wanted to do, shivers running down her spine from his whispering.  "Be right back," she announced, not that the others cared.

Spying a small pavilion with a sign for indoor bathrooms, Nathan headed toward it, pulling Lydia with him.  “Hope you’re not averse to a quickie in the loo,” he whispered in her ear.  “I wanna shag you so bad, Lyds.”

"I'm not averse to anything that involves your cock inside of me, Nats," Lydia exclaimed, barely making it to the bathroom without jumping his bones.  Her sex drive was usually crazy, but the drugs made it ten times crazier.  "I've never done this before... it's so exciting."

“You’ve never shagged in a public toilet before?” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, pulling her into the small one room stall with him and locking the door behind him.  “Well, I am a master at it by now,” he said, pinning her against the wall as his mouth went to her neck and his fingers went to the button on her shorts.

"No, only locker rooms and car parks," Lydia gasped, burying her fingers in his curls as his kisses awakened every last bit of her body.  "Oh, please, Natty, take care of me," she moaned, fumbling with his jeans, her hand sliding under his boxer briefs to palm his erection.

“Oh fuck, Lollipop,” Win’s Nathan groaned, tearing Lydia’s shorts and knickers down to pool around her ankles, urging her to wrap one of her legs around his waist as he pressed his cock to her entrance, kissing her deeply as he began to press into her.

Lydia kissed him back, whining as she felt his cock teasing her.  "Please, shag my brains out, Nate... fuck, you're so sexy, I need you," she mumbled, pulling Nathan closer again, desperate for him, his taste, his scent, it was all driving her mad.

“Oh God, Lydia,” he groaned, focusing on kissing her as he thrust up into her, filling her abruptly, not giving her time to adjust before he began to fuck her.  “Fuck, you feel amazin’,” he gasped.

"Nathan!" Lydia nearly screamed in pleasure, holding onto him for support, her head wondering for a moment, remembering their wild nights in New York, it was so good to feel like that again.   "Choke me," she breathed.

“Gladly, Lyddie,” he exclaimed, his hand not holding her leg circling her throat, lightly at first before squeezing, watching her expression as he continued to pound into her.

The feeling of Win's Nathan's hand on her throat made Lydia's mouth fall open, immediately driving her to the edge.  Her hands blindly grabbed his ass, encouraging him to move faster.

Win's Nathan yelped in surprise, but he sped up at her urging, thrusting into her even rougher, her back no doubt digging into the wall, but she seemed to be loving it and Nathan lost himself in her, feeling his pleasure crest quickly.

"I'm so close, Nathan," Lydia managed to say, enjoying his reaction to her unexpected touch.  She had to bite her lip not to cry out loud as she came undone for him, her body tensing up as she stared deep into his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Win's Nathan breathed, pressing his forehead to Lydia's as she came, clenching around him tighter and he gave several more jerky thrusts as he spilled his seed in her, stilling to catch his breath.  "Fuck, baby, that was hot as fuck," he panted.

"I fucking love you," Lydia breathed, slightly overwhelmed by how good it had felt, how intense the sensations were; she even teared up a little.  "And I love fucking you," she laughed before kissing his collarbone softly.

Nathan laughed, pulling out and tucking himself back into his jeans.  "I love fuckin' you and I fuckin' love you too, baby," he exclaimed, taking her face between his hands to kiss her, brushing her tears away from her cheek.

"Sometimes I can't believe you're mine, at least half of you is..." Lydia murmured, pulling her shorts back up, feeling slightly lightheaded.   waited for so long, I-" Lydia nearly fell, holding onto him.  "Sorry, I got a little dizzy," she laughed.

"Whoa! Lyds, you okay?" Win's Nathan exclaimed quickly, catching Lydia before her legs went out from under her.  "Maybe we should get yeh some water and go sit back down for a bit," he suggested worriedly, wrapping his arm around her to keep her stabilized as they headed back to where Win and the other Nathan sat.

"I'm... I'm fine, I think I just need some water," Lydia assured, though she didn't know if that was supposed to happen, she was just happy to not be alone.  "It's probably cause I've been drinking, and this is my first time, nothing serious."

——

"Y'like that, huh?" Lyddie's Nathan kissed Win's neck with a smug grin, his fingers moving slightly faster.  "It's a special trick, for special occasions, such as your birthday... just gotta be quiet, okay, baby girl?  Or everyone's gonna know you're a dirty little thing," he purred quietly. 

Win whined but nodded, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her moans.  “God, I love you,” she murmured, kissing his neck, her breathing punctuated with a sharp breath every few moments.  “If you keep that up I’m gunna come soon.” 

"And that's not what you want?" Lyddie's Nathan asked, slowing down a little, but not stopping.  "Don't you wanna come for me, Winnie?" he murmured, bringing her hand up and kissing her palm gently, dragging his lips along her skin. 

“I—ohhh,” she sighed, her words melting.  “Please Nathan,” she begged softly.  “I do wanna come. God, I feel so dirty doing this right out in th’open,” she confessed. 

"You're a filthy girl, Winnie... but y'look so cute when you beg," Lyddie's Nathan murmured, licking her palm, slow at first, but more vigorously as he felt her squirming in his lap.

“Oh god, yes,” she whined. “Nathan, I’m—“ she didn’t get to finish her sentence before she came, pressing her face into his chest as she tensed, gasping a breath, her fingers of her free hand balling in his shirt. 

"That's my girl, so good, that was so fuckin' hot!" Lyddie's Nathan praised, holding Win against his chest.  "Happy birthday, baby," he said, kissing the top of her head, trying to ignore his own excitement.  He didn't wanna ruin the moment.

As Win came down from her orgasm, her head still swimming slightly, she tilted her chin up to look at him.  “I wonder what the people around us thought of you licking my hand,” she giggled before kissing his jaw.  “Thank you though, baby, but what about you?  I wanna make you feel good too,” she whined in his ear. 

"Well, you orgasmed in front of everyone, so I wouldn't worry about what they think," Lyddie's Nathan chuckled, but the thought of Win making him feel good was also an interesting one.  He snapped his fingers and a blanket covered them.  Everyone around was high, so it's not like they’d even notice...  

“And I’m the dirty one?” Win asked, cocking an eyebrow at him as her hand slipped under the blanket, and she shifted so she could unbutton his jeans, freeing his throbbing cock with a smirk.

"I thought y'were a fan of public sex..." Lyddie's Nathan mused, cupping Win's tits playfully as she found a comfortable position. "I just wanna please you, darlin', I wouldn't want my girlfriend missin' out on the concert,” he teased.

"I am," she replied, "I'm just sayin' you're as dirty as me, if not more," she pointed out, arching her chest into his hand as she stroked his length, brushing her thumb over his sensitive head and feeling his cock twitch in her hand.  "I love doin' this with you," she sighed, leaning against his shoulder as she worked her fist up and down, slowly at first. 

"I might be, a sexy bird taught me a trick or two at a hotel pool once," Lyddie's Nathan started, but soon he had to press his lips to Win's shoulder, tryin not to be loud.  "Fuck, baby, your hands are-- Jesus..." he mumbled. 

Win laughed, relishing his reaction.  "God, you're cute," she cooed, kissing his temple.  Wanting to tease him further, she sped her hand up, squeezing slightly as she worked him, drawing his earlobe between her teeth.  "Be a good boy for me, Natty, can't be too loud now or everyone'll know what we're doin'."

"Oh, you're evil, Winnie."  Lyddie's Nathan threw his head back, his eyes clenched shut, much like his fists.  "I love when y'wank me off like this, baby, don't stop," he groaned, bringing her closer, seeking her lips. 

Win grinned into the kiss. "And I love you baby," she replied, jerking him faster still.  "I want you to come all over my hand, make a mess under this blanket, y'filthy boy," she purred.

Lyddie's Nathan's best efforts to not be obvious about what was happening were lost when he heard those words.  "Fuck..." he moaned, slightly louder than intended as he came, not caring anymore what people would think, he was pretty sure half of them were doing the same thing anyway. 

Win's grin grew and she kissed Nathan despite the sticky mess still covering her hand.  "Good boy," she murmured.  "God that was hot."

"So hot!  I have no clue why I feel like this when y'call me a good boy, but Jesus... I fuckin' love it," he confessed.  Win had been confusing him, he was usually the dominant one, but he liked when she took charge like that.

"Really?" Win asked, taken aback, her stomach fluttering at his admission.  She'd always been the dominant one between her and her Nathan, and while she liked subbing with Lyddie's Nathan, there was something about watching him submit to her that excited her more than she could say.

"Well, you are good, so so good t'me," she murmured, running her clean hand through his curls. 

Before she could draw on his power to clean up his little mess, Lydia and her Nathan returned.

"Hey, loves of my life," Lydia smiled wiping the sweat from her forehead as she carefully sat down next to the others.  "Do you have some water?" 

"You okay, babe?" her Nathan asked, quickly zipping up his jeans and turning to check on her, opening the backpack to get her bottle.  "Y'seem a bit... shaky." 

"Yeah, I'm fine, how was your... sexy adventure?" she asked, sipping some water while leaning against Win's Nathan.

Win borrowed Nathan’s power to clean off her hand.  “It was very nice,” she answered with a grin, glancing at Lyddie’s Nathan.  “You?” she asked.

"Good, great," Lydia nodded, holding Win's Nathan tightly with her head against his chest.  "It was amazing actually.  In a second I'll be good to go again if you'd like..."

“Damn Lollipop,” Win’s Nathan laughed, kissing the top of her head. “I think you should probably rest for a bit first, huh?”

"I hate it when you're right," Lydia huffed, her head still spinning.  "How about... I give you your gift then?" she suggested, reaching for her backpack to fetch the black velvet box.  "Happy birthday, my love!" she cried, offering it to Win.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything, babe,” Win exclaimed, though she opened the box excitedly, having been wondering all day what could be inside. 

“What is it?” her Nathan asked curiously.

“Oh my God, Lydia, this is— it’s beautiful, I’m never gunna take it off,” Win gasped, pulling out a small silver bracelet with a heart shaped charm with the letters N + W + L + N on it. “Nathan, can you help me?” she asked, holding out her wrist for Lydia’s Nathan to wrap the bracelet around.

"This is so sweet," Lyddie's Nathan helped Win with the bracelet and kissed the back of her hand.  "You could've asked me t'make it,” he whispered to Lydia. 

"I know, I just saw it on my way home the other day and couldn't resist, so I asked for the engraving and..." Lydia smiled, watching how happy she was.  "It looks perfect on you."

“Thank you, Lydia, I love you so much.  I love all of you so much!” Win cried, feeling slightly overwhelmed with emotion as she pulled them all in for a hug.

"We love you too," Lyddie squeezed her back, feeling insanely lucky.  "Do you still wanna dance?  Cause I'm feeling better and the boys are horrible at it, so they would just embarrass you." 

"Hey!" her Nathan shouted, knowing that she wasn't exactly wrong.  "A little respect please?"

“I would love t’dance!” Win exclaimed, helping Lydia to her feet. “Boys?” she asked hopefully. “You sure you don’t wanna come too?”

"I'll go just to embarrass you, Lyddie," her Nathan got up, dusting his jeans.  

"As I suspected, the best way to get you to do something is telling you that you shouldn't," she smirked.  "Are you coming, babe?" she looked back at Win's Nathan.

“Course I am, I wanna dance with the birthday girl,” he exclaimed, letting Lyddie help him up.

Lydia pulled him as they headed toward the stage.  She was never very good at dancing like nobody's watching, but right then she couldn't be bothered by anyone else.

Bracketed by both Nathans, Win shook her hair out, moving to the music as she pulled Lydia closer while grinding against her Nathan.

What a sight they must've been, dancing, kissing, and holding each other... 

"I’ve just had the best idea," Lyddie wrapped her arms around Win, “once we get to the hotel..." 

"What hotel?" her Nathan interjected, confused. 

"The one I asked you to find and make a reservation at?" 

"Oh... I knew I had forgotten somethin'," he grimaced. 

"So you're telling me we don't have a place to sleep?"

“Maybe there’ll still be rooms available?” Win’s Nathan ventured, though he had a feeling it was doubtful.

"In the middle of a music festival?" Lydia was trying very hard not to freak out.  "In a town with two hotels?  We're fucked..." 

"Nah, I'll fix it!" her Nathan tried to calm her down. 

"Just like you did with the corpse in the car that one time?" she scoffed. 

"I did fix that, we're not in jail so it worked!" he whispered.  "Calm down, we can make us a tent, problem solved."

“There’s an area for camping,” Win pointed out, gesturing over toward the far side of the field.  “A tent sounds fun!” she exclaimed.  “But maybe make it a lot bigger than it looks on the outside,” she giggled, not worried at all as she pulled out another joint to light.

"See?  You worry too much, baby, give us a little credit, you're not the only responsible one..." Lyddie's Nathan held her from behind. 

"That's arguable," she teased.  "But if Win's happy with it, then cheers."

“I still wanna know what this ‘best idea’ of yours is,” Win purred, wrapping her arms around Lydia as her Nathan plucked the joint from her fingers for a hit.

"Well, I was just gonna say I brought our special toy so maybe I could use it with you once we're alone," Lyddie murmured.  "If you want..."

“Oh?” Win exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.  “I’d like that a lot, Lollipop,” she replied, straightening.

"Good, cause I wanna fuck you until you scream," Lydia purred before biting Win's neck softly.

“Ohhh,” Win groaned, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s neck.  “God that sounds amazingggg,” she whined.

"We get t'watch, don't we?" Lyddie's Nathan asked hopefully.  He’d never seen Lydia doing that yet. 

"I'll think about it..." she taunted.

“Aw c’mon baby, I like an audience,” Win grinned, taking Lyddie’s Nathan’s hand.  “I’m feeling a little worn out, shall we go pitch our tent?  It’s not like there’ll be no music tomorrow.”

"Very well," Lyddie's Nathan kissed Win's temple.  "Let's go then. I just hope nobody notices the tent showin' up out of thin air... but it's dark enough, I think." 

"You think?" Lydia laughed.  "You are so carefree, I gotta try that sometime, cause being in my head is exhausting."

“You want another hit of this?” Win’s Nathan offered, passing Win’s joint around as he wrapped his arms around both girls as they began to head toward the camping ground.

"I have to take care of the pipes," Lydia frowned.  "We have a gig coming up, but I like to watch you." 

"Okay, big reveal..." Lyddie's Nathan opened her backpack and got a rod out of it.  "What's that?" 

"That's--" he smashed the rod on the grass and an entire tent came out, making her jump and nearly fall, “--our tent!" 

"JESUS CHRIST, Nathan! Was this really necessary?" 

"No, but it was fun, wasn't it?"

Win laughed.  “Ahh, it’s perfect!  Thank you babe,” she exclaimed, raising up to kiss Lyddie’s Nathan’s cheek before hurrying through the flap into the tent.  “Oh my God, Lydia!  You have t’see this!” she exclaimed, gaping at the furnishing.  “It looks like a fuckin’ hotel in here.”

"Okay, this is amazing!" Lyddie walked inside and jumped on the bed, pulling Win with her.  "I love it ! You're the best, Nate..." 

"What was that again?" her Nathan asked, joining them with a smug grin.  "I didn't hear ya..." 

"You're the best, thank you," Lydia repeated, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“My hero!” Win exclaimed, kicking her shoes off as she fell to the bed. 

“What about me?” her Nathan exclaimed with a huff and she pulled him down as well.

“You’re my hero too babe, always will be,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips.  “Seriously, this has been the best birthday ever.”

"I'm happy you had a good time, I've been so anxious all day to make sure everything is perfect, so it's good to know it all worked out," Lydia embraced Win, kissing her all over her neck and shoulders.  "It was a lot of fun... I just wish I could make you a cake."

“Aw babe,” Win cooed, giggling at her kisses.  “I don’t need a cake, I’ve got something just as sweet!”

"As soon as we're back home I'll make you one, I'll make you an entire dinner," Lyddie mused before remembering her offer.  "Are you too tired for my surprise?  Cause if you wanna go to bed I understand."

“I’m not too tired!” Win exclaimed, perking up.  “I want your surprise!”

"Boys, would you be so kind as to strip her naked for me?" Lyddie asked as she got up and dug through her backpack for the pink bag she kept the special toys on trips.

“Gladly!” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, peeling her top off and unsnapping her bra.  

“Oh!” Win exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"Very good," Lyddie praised as her Nathan got rid of Win's shorts and knickers.  "So beautiful, all for me..." she slowly shed her own clothes and made a show of putting the strap-on on.

Win wet her lips as she fell back onto the bed, watching Lyddie while anticipation coursed through her.  “Oh God, Lyddie,” she breathed, turned on by how possessive she was being.

"Look at you, so needy, I love to see you like that..." Lyddie crawled atop of her.  Lyddie's Nathan on the other hand was extremely confused, if having Win make him a submissive wasn't enough, now he couldn't stop staring at his fiancé with that dildo on.

Win’s Nathan knew that look, he was pretty sure he’d had that look on his face the first few times Win wore the strap and he smirked, turning his gaze back to the girls. 

“I am, I need you so bad, Lollipop!” Win cried, running her hands down Lydia’s back.

"Do you?" Lyddie reached between Win's legs, circling her clit while looking up at her Nathan to catch his reaction.  "I guess you deserve it after how nice you were to me earlier behind the stage..." she teased her entrance.

Win whimpered, squirming under Lyddie’s touch, wanting more.  “Please, baby, I want you t’ruin me,” she begged desperately.

Lyddie slowly thrust into her, kissing her chest tenderly.  "Like that, sweetie, is this what you want?" 

"Jesus..." her Nathan breathed, swallowing nervously.

“Yes, more Lyddie,” Win gasped, her hands sliding down to grab Lydia’s ass.  “Please I want you t’ruin me.  Wear me out.  Use me.”

"That's a good little pet," Lyddie growled, slamming into her, moving fast and roughly.  "You're so good for me," she leaned in, pressing her lips to Win's.

Win let out a muffled cry as she kissed Lydia back desperately.  “Oh God, Lyddie, you’re amazing!” she whimpered in between kisses.  “I’m already so close, fuck, you fuck me so good baby!” 

“Holy shit...” Win’s Nathan muttered as he watched, spellbound.  Fuck but we wanted Lydia to do that to him.

"Yeah? You're gonna come for me, baby?" Lyddie kept moving vigorously.  She usually felt pretty awkward in situations like this, but seeing Win screaming her praises filled her with confidence.  

Her Nathan decided not to question it, he was too horny to think, all he knew was Lydia looked incredibly sexy like that.

“Mhmm,” Win nodded, unable to form words as her climax hit her like a bus and she raked her nails down Lyddie’s shoulder blades as she cried out before going limp.

"That was so hot," Lyddie took a second to breathe before pulling out.  "So, how was the show, boys?" 

"I- fuck!" her Nathan stuttered, quickly cleaning the mess from his hand.

“One of th’hottest yet!” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, quickly tucking himself back into his boxer shorts.  “You’re gettin’ really good with that thing, Lyds.”

"Would you like to give it a go sometime?" Lyddie changed into a shirt and joined them in bed, pulling Win into her arms.

“Fuck yeah, I would,” he replied eagerly, kissing Win gently on the temple as he pulled her into his arms.

"You okay, Natty?" Lyddie asked, looking at her Nathan, who was strangely quiet. 

"Yeah, just a bit tired," he cleared his throat. 

"Aww do you want me to be the big spoon tonight?" she giggled. 

"NO!" Nathan jumped. "I mean... I wanna hold ya, I love you," he kissed his fiancé's cheek.

“C’mere,” Win called from the bed.  “I want all my loves.”

"Yes, baby," Lyddie snuggled Win, pulling the blanket to cover them.  "It's getting chilly in here..." 

Her Nathan hesitated for a second and joined them under the covers, stroking Win's hair.

Win opened her eyes to smile at him, reaching out to caress his cheek.  “Thank you guys for making my birthday so perfect.  I love you so much.”

"I love you too," Lydia sighed, soaking in their warmth.  "First birthday in this dimension, only a billion more to go... I can't wait."

----------------------

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @santacarlahorrorshow @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator  @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren  @violetrainbow412-blog

[axther]

the devil’s train

bakugou x reader x oc: the devil’s train (yandere) in which Bakugou and Gil, the reader’s best friends, show that they care for her far more than as a friend. for @tspice283​ tw blood, fighting, stalking, general yandere behaviour

YN LN led a very uneventful life.

She went to U.A. and had several close friends. She was told she had a bright future when it came to her hero career and was often described as friendly. She was relatively confident in herself and knew how to fight.  But she wasn’t ready for this. 

Before her were her two best friends; Bakugou Katsuki and Gil Keating. It was dark out, dark and cold in an unfamiliar place. They were growling and barking like dogs, clawing at each other with blood on their hands. YN was lost, horribly and terribly lost in her mind and on the pavement. There was blood everywhere, splattering against the wall and on the ground. They were drooling like madmen, disgusting, revolting, and making YN want to throw up. 

Ah...but maybe she should go back to the beginning.

YN always walked to school with Gil. 

It was something of a tradition. They were childhood friends, born in the same town and growing up with each other. Gil was tall, much taller than YN, with dark, green eyes that seemed to bear into YN’s very soul. His hair was white, snowy white, and YN wasn’t actually sure if it was natural. He was almost feminine, had it not been for his strong personality, it would’ve been easy to confuse him with a woman. He was a bit of a flirt to be honest, but YN didn’t mind. He was kind to her, and that was what mattered. Gil’s quirk was Stasis, temporarily stopping time. It was only for a few seconds at the moment, but he could do enough damage in sparring that even Aizawa recognised his efforts. To YN, he was pure fluff with a side of angst that she only ever saw when he fought others. On that day in particular, he was humming a song under his breath about some sort of strawberry snake, rocking on his heels while walking and being happier than usual. YN wasn’t sure why, but she certainly wasn’t going to question his good mood, considering he was usually quiet on their walks. “So!!” YN chirped, skipping a bit. “Do you wanna go somewhere after school, or something? It’s been a while since we’ve done something that’s just the two of us.”  Gil lit up, a bigger smile gracing his face as he leaned down and wrapped an arm around YN. “Of course! We could go to the arcade, or maybe to the mall, or that new boba tea shop that opened up! Oh! Or we could do all three! I’ll pay,” He winked, strangely giddy. “That sounds great, actually!” YN looked up at him, then back to the sidewalk with a happy flush. “Aww, you’re blushing!” Gil nuzzled the top of YN’s head in an intimate gesture, chuckling. “That’s so cute!” “Shush,” YN pouted, smacking his arm softly in an effort to stop him from mussing her hair. “Fine, fine.” Gil pulled away, but kept his arm over her shoulder. YN didn’t think much of it, realising that they were quickly approaching the school. She saw Ochako and Tsuyu both walking towards the door, and she broke from Gil's arm to rush towards them. Behind her, Gil's smile plummeted as he watched her leave. His eyes seemed to flash for a second, a dark colour that would send shivers down anyone’s spine. It was like an unreigned desire inside him that slowly spilled out until YN turned back to him. It disappeared almost instantly, another smile coming upon his face. “Hm? Is something the matter?”   “Nothing, nothing!” He waved a hand, still smiling brightly. YN hummed, shrugging her shoulders and walking through the doors with the other girls and leaving Gil to walk in by himself. His eyes darkened again, going blank and almost hollow as he shuffled along. YN didn’t notice how he became almost a shell behind her, chatting happily with Ochako and Tsuyu. Momo and Jirou soon caught up, talking about their weekend and filling the silence with pretty talk. “Hey, YN!” Ochako chirped, linking her elbow with YN’s and Momo’s. “We’ve got sparring again today! Who do you think you’re gonna be paired up with?” “Oh…” YN mused, placing her finger on her chin. “I’m not sure! Last week I had...Midoriya? So maybe I’ll get Bakugou this time.” At the mention of Bakugou, all the girls glanced over to see the blonde standing a few feet away. He was bright red and had just jumped like a spooked cat, hair spiking up and the flush on his face overtaking his neck and ears. YN tilted her head curiously, and the other girls laughed.  “What was that about, Bakugou!?” Ochako yelled over her laughter, holding her stomach. Momo and YN were the only ones nice enough to hold back their laughter, but even then, it was strained. “Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou barked, going from cat to dog and back to cat again, slinking away past the corner of the hall. The giggling died down, before Momo raised an eyebrow. “What was that about, really?” She murmured, looking almost concerned. “That was really strange.” “Maybe he’s just having an off day,” Ochako shrugged, linking arms proudly with YN and smiling. “Or maybe he has a crush! Ha! Imagine the day!”

  YN laughed too. But sometimes, foreshadowing is obvious.  The day passed quickly and quite uneventfully, with clouds crawling over the sky and slowly darkening. There were several times where rumours of multi-class sparring being cancelled, but Aizawa dispelled them and often told them that as heroes, they would have to work in the rain anyway. But he took mercy on them, and decided to start sparring early so they didn’t get soaked. He chalked it up to he himself not wanting to get wet, but everyone knew that he just wanted to make sure they didn’t get sick. When everyone filed out, Gil made a beeline to YN’s side with a big, sheepish smile. “Hi~” He trailed out, winking playfully. “I missed you! 1-B is boring without my bestie.” “You flatter me,” She smiled, rolling her eyes but letting him recline on her.  “It’s true! Tetsutetsu and all the others are cute and all, but you’re my number one.” “That’s cute.” “C’mon!! Don’t just brush me off!” “Alright.” Aizawa’s tone cut through their conversation, and for a second, Gil glowered at the teacher. Aizawa didn’t seem to notice, though, and let it go as he started listing pairs. Oddly enough, Bakugou wasn’t set with YN; instead, Tsuyu was saddled with him, and YN missed the way that Bakugou’s eyes trailed over her as he walked past. Aizawa instructed Gil and YN together, and Gil glanced down at her. “Ladies first.” YN walked past him, not replying but simply going into their designated row so they could spar, next to Bakugou and Tsuyu. Aizawa announced for them to begin, and slowly, the clouds gathered above them. YN assumed a more defensive stance after seeing Gil whale on his own classmates before, but strangely enough, he simply stood there with his hands in his pockets. “Dude,” YN hissed. “What are you doing? Hit me.” “Nah.” Gil took a hand out to check his nails, nonchalant. “What?!” YN was whispering, trying to not catch Aizawa’s attention, but felt confusion. “Why not?!” “Don’t wanna.” “That’s so stupid! C’mon! I can take it.” “I don’t want to hurt you.” “What?” YN lowered her fists, jaw dropping. “Are you serious? Why?” “Uh, it’s sort of self-explanatory.”   “No, it’s not!” As they bickered quietly, neither of them noticed Bakugou losing his attention from sparring, and looking at the two of them. He wasn’t even fighting Tsuyu anymore, just watching them with a deathly blank stare. It was like she didn’t even know he was there. Bakugou was a confusing creature. He was incredibly contradictory, saying one thing but meaning another. He tended to keep to himself, but wanted nothing more than to have friends and be loved. Who didn’t? What human could live without love? Oh. And speaking of love, he loved her. He first met YN LN when he was in kindergarten. She was gentle and sweet, but strong and not scared to talk back. Despite the fact that quirks were so….segmenting at such a young age, she seemed to pay no attention to it. She didn’t talk to many unless they spoke to her first, or if she had to. She kept to herself, politely. That was the first time he noticed her, and he supposed that’s where it all started. The second time, he had just gotten admitted into U.A. He recognised YN almost immediately, which was strange, considering he hadn’t seen her in over ten years. But it was like she hadn’t truly changed, just grew up with a certain grace about her. She had matured, and she was beautiful. He started deteriorating, in a word. Everything he did was in hopes of her seeing him, really seeing him for who he was. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but who else would be worthy of her? He had to be the greatest to ever come close, so he crushed everyone in his way to get there.  But then the fucking slimy, disgusting, filthy, destructive, sweaty, obscene, vile, vulgar, dirty man came along and dared sully YN’s lovely glow. Gil was, in many ways, like Bakugou. He aimed for the top, and stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. He was the one thing standing in his way for YN, and Bakugou would tolerate nothing in his way. He had come too far. He had done too much, watching YN walk home to keep her safe and taking her shirts from the line so he had some semblance of her in his room. Taking pictures so that way their kids can see her as she was, beautifully natural and unaware. Bakugou had boarded the devil’s train to love a long time ago. And he had no intention of getting off.

He had come so far. And here Gil was, refusing to fight YN. Out of what? Love? 

Something in Bakugou snapped. He rushed over to Gil, picking him by the collar and growling at the precipice of all his pent up, bubbling rage. His hand already started cramping from holding on so tight, fingers going red. “You-! You, you, you, you-!” Words escaped Bakugou in his pure rage. Thunder started rumbling across the class as everyone slowly stopped sparring and started watching Bakugou threaten a very nonplussed Gil. “Me. Yes. What do you want?” Gil raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and letting Bakugou carry all of his weight. “You fucker! You know what you’re doing!” “Do I?” Gil smirked, and quite suddenly, Bakugou, really truly, realised that Gil knew what he was doing. He looked over to YN, who was in a mix of confusion and anger.  Bakugou felt the colour draining out of his face, realising that YN must’ve thought that he was flying off the handle for no reason. But how would he explain that the love of his life was being manipulated by some smooth-talking bastard? “Go on,” Gil grinned wolfishly. “Get mad. I dare you.” “You…” Bakugou was panting when the first drop of rain hit him, trickling down the back of his neck and into his shirt. Several students looked up, eyes wide as the rain slowly started coming down. Gil and Bakugou were in a stalemate, hanging onto whatever thread of disguise they had about YN. “Bakugou.” Aizawa’s voice was quiet, stern in the growing storm. “Let go of him.” Bakugou dropped Gil, throwing him into the ground. Gil just kept his shit-eating grin, and Bakugou soon realised why; YN rushed towards him, immediately fussing over him and prodding at his collar. Jealousy flushed through Bakugou, but what could he do? He had created this. He created this monster that stood between him and YN. Between him and euphoria. Bakugou was pulled away by Aizawa, who kept a strong grip on him despite Bakugou’s lack of resistance. He kept giving Gil a deadly glare, and Gil stared right on back.

It was war. 

Bakugou waited outside of 1-B once he got out of class.

Of course, he wasn’t sure if or when they would leave, but he knew that Gil was not going to just let the incident go. No, he knew that the evening was going to be a great equaliser. One man would walk away victorious, and the other would be left either licking his wounds, or dead. Bakugou was ready for whatever would happen, but to him, there was only one way the day was going to end; with him being the sole victor for YN’s heart. YN’s love. Bakugou sighed, a flush growing on his face at the thought of being YN’s boyfriend. He’d never let her go, of course, considering all he had done to get to the position he was in now. He would bite and spit and fight anything that got in his way. And the last obstacle was right in front of him. “Done with your little freakout, Kaachan?” Gil may have towered over Bakugou, but the smug look on his face made Bakugou’s gut crawl.  “I’m gonna beat your fuckin’ face in.” Bakugou snarled, gritting his teeth. “And I know you wanna smash mine in. C’mon. We’ll settle this.” “As you wish~” Gil teased, walking two steps behind Bakugou as they left the school and began walking down the ever-darkening streets. The rain had cleared for the moment, but the forecast said it’d come back within the hour. How strange. A final showdown between enemies in the rain and darkness. It felt almost divine. Bakugou turned down a dark alleyway, not wanting anyone to see the bloodbath. The last thing he needed was pictures or rumours surfacing once he was a hero, once it mattered. “So.” Gil stopped at the very edge of the path, hands in his pockets. “How do you want to settle this? Like a brute by fighting?” “Like men.” Bakugou turned, jumpy at any movement Gil made. Gil scoffed. “Perhaps we could go our separate ways and whoever gets YN to love him wins.”  “What? Scared?” Gil's eyes lowered in a glower, and Bakugou felt a shiver down his spine. The young man suddenly felt cold, calculating and not at all like YN’s childhood best friend. “No.” Gil never broke eye contact with Bakugou. “I know that in terms of quirks, yours is more violent and prone to harm than mine. But I could dodge you until you’re exhausted and run dry. It would be a constant back and forth that would achieve nothing.” “It might not. But at least you know your place.” Bakugou stuffed his hands in his pockets just like Gil, and it felt like a stalemate. “Are we gonna do this, or not?” “Fine.” Gil sighed, rolling his head back in a relenting manner. “Like dogs.” Bakugou pulled his hands out, his own nervous sweat already providing enough nitroglycerin to start the fight. Every cell in his body was on fire, elated at the fact that he could finally pummel Gil into a pulp and prove to YN that he was nothing but a manipulating bastard that wanted to sully her. “Finally-!” Bakugou growled, feeling as though he had already won as he rushed forward to strike Gil. “It’s over.” Before Bakugou could hit Gil, though, he disappeared, and Bakugou felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the feeling of someone behind him. A hand started reaching for the back of his neck, but Bakugou twisted around to swat at Gil's arm before he could attack. Gil disappeared again, and Bakugou realised that he was right; it would just be an endless back and forth before one of them got tired. But Bakugou was willing to take that risk. He had seen Gil's quirk in action before; it drained him quickly enough, given that they all sparred in ten-minute increments. Stasis was more of a technical quirk, and Bakugou could use that to his advantage.

He spun around, gritting his teeth and aiming for Gil's stupid face again and that shit-eating grin that haunted his dreams. There was another disappearance, another swing, and it was like a pendulum: where Bakugou swung, Gil would disappear. It was a dance, above all, and a lethal one. Bakugou saw Gil starting to wheeze, and spun his elbow back to sock him in the stomach. Gil barely dodged it, but not with his quirk, instead choosing to side-step, and Bakugou knew he had him on the ropes. It was a sweet victory on the tip of his tongue, and he was just about to make contact when-

“What the fuck is going on?” 

Both men froze when they heard that oh-so-beautiful voice, shock seeping into everyone’s system. The two turned slowly, seeing YN with a look of angry shock on her face. She had a clear umbrella, and the two realised that it had started raining again during their fight. “Uh.” Gil cleared his throat, glancing to the side then back again. “Hello.” “Answer me.” YN’s voice was stern and cold. “What the absolute fuck is going on?” “Nothing.” Both of them answered at once, snapping their arms to their sides in a desperate attempt to seem normal. “Just sparring, babe, it’s noth-” “Babe?” Bakugou felt the shock absolutely drain out of him and rage take its place. “Babe?!” “Ita, I know you’re lyin-” “So?” Gil cut YN off, eyes flashing again. “Do you have a problem?” “Yes! I do!” Bakugou yapped, feeling his hair go on end again. “Are either of you listening-oh my fucking god!” Bakugou didn’t hesitate to absolutely launch his fist into Gil's face for the most satisfying punch of his life. Gil's nose caved in and blood immediately started coming out, pooling onto the pavement. Gil took a second to register that he was even hit before he retaliated, slapping Bakugou’s arm away and promptly socking him in the stomach. YN let out a surprised yelp, dropping her umbrella in shock and getting knocked over by Bakugou trying to dodge another one of Gil's hits. They were fighting, resorting to biting and frothing at the mouth like rabid animals. Bakugou hadn’t felt this level of pure anger ever in his life, and killing seemed like such an easy task against Gil. YN was the only thing that kept him going, his last motivation to even live or succeed. He felt that if he didn’t prove himself, if he didn’t make Gil stand down, then it was for nothing. It didn’t matter that YN was trying to pry them off of each other, swearing bitterly in her confusion, or that Gil was bleeding profusely. Bakugou didn’t care that his hands were covered in Gil’s blood and his own. Nothing mattered anymore but winning. 

Bakugou had boarded the devil’s train of love. And he couldn’t get off. 

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Three

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: Language, Minor Panic Attack

Taglist: @dragonballluver

Previous Chapter

“We have an issue.”

Jack closed the door behind him. Jack was a college friend of Demetria and Harvey who co-ran a moving company with his brother, Max, in Gotham. He’d been there to help Demetria move in to the one bedroom so it was a no-brainer to ask him to help her move.

Demetria looked up she loaded the last box ontop of the dolly

“What broke?” She asked, the knot in her stomach tightening.

He waved his hand reassuringly “Nothing broke. Everything is secured in the truck.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“There’s some paparazzi outside.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

“It’s not a whole lot. Just like two, maybe three.” 

“No it’s definitely three,” Max confirmed as he glanced from out the window. 

Demetria threw her hands up as she walked over to the window, Jack trailing right behind her. The three of them watched as across the street, three men stood around with cameras in their hands.

She could think a few ways they could’ve gotten her address. One was from the Gotham Gossip, the other was someone at GCN tipped off the Gotham Times who also tipped off some other publication. 

“Should I call the cops?” Demetria asked.

“Yeah, that’s gonna go over real well,” Max snorted.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just keep going and ignore them, I guess,” Jack shrugged. “Best you can do.”

She closed her eyes. “I thought I had more time before I had to deal with this.”

“Can you call Bruce?” Jack asked. 

She shook her head. “He’s at work.” She stepped back. “We’ve got these boxes left and then it’s over.” 

She began rolling the dolly when Max stopped her. “Let us do that.” 

“And have them catch me empty handed? Not a chance.” 

“Fair enough.” 

She quickly went into her purse, grabbing her keys and iPod with earphones wrapped around it. She shoved the iPod in her back pocket. “Here’s the plan. Jack, give the keys to Mrs. O’Neill. She’s in the room 301. Tell her I say ‘thanks for everything.’ Max, take one last look around and make sure nothing is getting left behind, alright? I’ll meet you two in the truck.”

Both men nodded their heads. She grabbed her purse and swung it over her shoulder, She rolled the dolly out into the hallway and into the elevator. 

Upon getting inside, she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her temple. She could feel her throat closing in and chest tightening, a sign she needed to do her breathing exercises. She inhaled slowly, holding it in for seven seconds before breathing out. 

She knew she would eventually have to deal with it when Bruce wouldn’t be around, but as she’d said, she thought she had time. Either way, she’d had to deal with it and it looked like today was the day to begin doing so.

She put her earbuds in as Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chains” filled her ears. 

The doors opened and she rolled the dolly out into the lobby, watching the men across the street watch her moves. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. 

“Here goes nothing,” she mumbled. 

She opened the door with one hand and pushed the the dolly with the other. The men hurried across street, their cameras flashing her as they stood on the street.

She kept her eyes on the truck and even with the pounding of Mick Fleetwood’s drums and Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nick’s powerful vocals, she could still hear the men yelling at her.

“Demetria, where’s Bruce?”

“Demetria are you moving in with Bruce?”

“When’s the wedding?”

“Give us a smile!”

“Demetria is it true you dated Harvey Dent prior to being with Bruce?”

She pulled her lips back, mentally reminding herself that responding to them would only make things worse.

She rolled the dolly into the back of the truck, setting her purse down before unloading the boxes. She knew they were there, watching her unloading, and photographing her from behind. While her throat really started closing in, she continued to breathe. She then put the empty dolly up against a box before grabbing her purse and going down the ramp. She kept her head down as she made her way into the driver’s area of the truck. 

Closing the door, she could still see them photographing her from in front of the car. She kept her eyes down as she pulled out her phone and began texting Bruce. 

Heading to the mansion in a bit. There’s paparazzi outside my place but everything is fine. 

She leaned her head back, continuing her breathing exercises when her phone buzzed. She looked down to find it a text from Bruce. 

Are you alright? Are you safe? 

I’m fine. I’ll see you tonight. Love you. 

Jack and Max got into the driver’s area with Jack at the wheel and Max right beside Demetria so she was in the middle. 

“Vans all closed up and everything is good,” Jack said. “Let’s move out.” 

The paparazzi moved off to the side as the van pulled forward before driving off. 

“How much do either of you want to bet that I’m going to be criticized for not wearing a seatbelt?” Demetria brought up.

 ____________________________________________________________

As they loaded boxes into the storage area of Wayne Manor, Demetria kept looking over to see the mansion. 

It was still being fixed, with certain areas built and ready, while others were covered in tarp. 

Bruce had shown her photos of what it looked like prior to the fire. For a mansion, it wasn’t overly designed, but rather cozy and the kind of place a kid would be lucky to call home. She’d hope that when it would finally be rebuilt that it would look exactly how it did. Knowing Bruce’s attachment to the house, it probably would. 

“So this is where you’ll be?” Max asked. 

“Yep,” she responded popping the “p”. “We’re moving in the second it’s ready.” 

“I remember when this place burned down,” Jack said. “Real shame. But I heard Wayne’s all cozy and whatnot in his penthouse.”

Demetria shrugged. “It’s just an apartment.” 

“Yeah with a helicopter pad,” Max snorted. 

Bruce’s wealth was a big topic of discussion that Demetria’s mother and older brother would bring up with her and it made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“Demetria, can I ask you something?” Jack brought up, as he set down a box. “Are you...are you two planning on having a prenup?”  She cocked her head back. “Excuse me?” 

Jack and Max exchanged looks. “Look, I know he’s your fiancé,” Jack began, “but I mean, the guy is known for having a new girlfriend each month.” 

“Hell, sometimes it’s weekly thing,” Max chimed in. 

Demetria folded her arms across her chest, anger boiling up inside. “What’s your point?” 

Jack sighed. “Look, don’t get defensive...”

“Jack, what is your point?” 

He eyed Max. “I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of incase he hurts you or...you know...” 

“I’m fine,” she retorted. “Our relationship is fine. I’m aware of who he’s been with, but it’s not like that. If everyone stopped believing in this idea they conjured up about him based on the bullshit gossip magazines write about him, they’d see he’s actually kind and smart and thoughtful. Yea, he dated and slept around, but like you guys haven’t?” 

She turned to Max. “I couldn’t even keep up with your count after sophomore year.” 

She turned to Jack. “You know the lengths he went to to keep our relationship a secret so that not only I could keep my job, but that he would protect me from get hounded by the fucking press every night? If he wanted to leave, he could’ve. I gave him every chance to, but he refused. Thank you for you concern, but we’re gonna be just fine.” 

She walked away leaving Jack and Max alone. 

Her phone vibrated as she made her way back to the van. She pulled it out to find a text message from Bruce. 

I love you too. More than anything. I can’t wait til’ you’re all mine. 

______________________________________________________________

Hours later, Demetria entered the Wayne Enterprises building. She made her way to the front desk and by the time she opened her mouth to speak, the woman at the desk beat her to the punch. 

“He’s on the 24th floor. Top of the building. ” 

She gave the woman a nod. “Thanks.” 

She made her way into the elevator and pressed the button. She was thankful to have the elevator to herself when a man with balding, blonde hair rushed in. She gave him a friendly smile and watched as she reached over and pressed the button with ‘18′ on it. 

She could feel his eyes on her and she adjusted her purse on her shoulder, keeping her eyes in front of her. 

“You’re Bruce Wayne’s fiancé, right?” he spoke up. 

She looked over and gave him a small, but friendly smile. “Yeah, I am.” 

“Coleman Reese. I’m the mergers and acquisitions law accountant.”  “Nice to meet you.” 

She looked away but could still feel his eyes on her. She began playing with the engagement ring, hoping he’d take a hint. 

“Wayne really shelled out big ones for the ring, huh?” he spoke up. 

She laughed nervously, shrugging. “I wouldn’t know.” 

She pulled back her lips, wondering why his eyes wouldn’t leave hers. At this point she couldn’t tell if he was just weird, nosy, attempting to make a move, or just trying to make conversation. Either way, she hoped it would end soon. 

“You worked for Gotham City News, right?” he asked. 

Jesus Christ, dude, she thought to herself.

“Uh, yea, I did.” 

“Just out of curiosity, did any one there ever do some digging on the identity of the Batman?” 

She furrowed her eyebrows, holding her in her urge to ask him why the fuck he was asking her this. “I...I’m not entirely sure. I was just a junior talent booker there. I wasn’t involved with the stories reporters worked on.” 

The elevators doors then opened, her heart leaping with excitement. Coleman gave her a disappointed, but kind nod as he left. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You as well,” she responded. 

The second the doors closed, she mumbled, “The fuck was that?” 

Reaching the 24th floor, Demetria got off the elevator and wandered around looking for Bruce’s office when she heard someone say, “Miss Gallagher, I presume?” 

She turned around to see a gentleman with grey hair and a warm smile approach her. She recognized him as Lucius Fox, Wayne Enterprises’ CEO. 

“Lucius, hi! I’ve heard so much about you,” Demetria remarked, holding out her hand.

He shook it. “And I you, Miss Gallagher. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Bruce talks a lot about you” 

“Well hopefully he only tells you good things. Speaking of which, where’s his office?” 

Lucius laughed. “I’ll show you.” 

The two walked side by side, as Demetria’s eyes fell to the glass windows. “How do you guys get anything done with a view like this?” 

“We do our best.”

He directed her to an office with glass windows all around, her smile widening at the sight of Bruce staring at something on his desk.

Bruce’s face lit up, closing the binder on his desk.“Sweetheart, what’re you doing here?”

She wrapped her arms around Bruce’s waist. “I just wanted to drop by and say ‘Hi’, and thanks to Lucius I was able to find you.” 

Bruce smiled at Lucius. “I hope she didn’t give you much trouble.” 

Lucius grinned. “Not at all.” He eyed the binder. “Is that the full report you wanted me to look at?” 

“Yeah, I made some adjustments you’re gonna want to look over.” 

“Will do. Demetria, a pleasure.” 

“Wonderful to meet you as well, Lucius.” 

Her eyes scanned Bruce’s office, admiring the mahogany wood that shine at the touch of the sun. It was organized down to a tee, not a single paper sticking out from the stack. The decor was kept to a minimum, not a single photo album anywhere. 

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Bruce said. “I have a present for you.” 

Demetria turned to him. “Is that so?” 

“Consider it a moving in gift.” 

“I told you I didn’t need you to-.” She cut herself off when he handed her a manila folder filled with paper. She pulled her lips back, holding back laugher. “A folder and some documents. How romantic.” 

“Open it.” 

She opened the folder to find documents pertaining to Gotham's Saint Swithin's Orphanage, including contact information, funding break downs, etc. The way her eyes crinkled made Bruce’s heart melt. 

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a quick chaste kiss. “This is perfect. I can start making some calls tonight, get a meeting set up-.” 

“Yeah, you might want to wait a couple days.” 

Demetria looked up. “Why’s that?” 

Bruce smiled. “What are your thoughts on setting sail for a couple days?” 

[slightly-warmer-hibiscus-tea]

CW: OC talk + Rambling / Blood / Gore / Censored Nudity (character sheet) / Mentions of Drugging

(idk why these warnings are so intense, but I swear it's all just silly OC talk T^T)

I’m kinda sorta working on more (comprehensible) TS OC stuff in between studying right now… I wanna hurry and talk about them but without info dumping (if given the opportunity I will without hesitation 😔…) because in terms of the best stories I have conjured up for OCs in general Naudedel and Noble are surprisingly good and I’m very excited to share how deranged they are together…

Right now it’s just about making Naudy readable and working on extra fun stuff… like monsters!

I’m trying to work out his “monster” form…. The concept is there, but the execution is just not ticking the right boxes for me right now… also, the line art at the end is old and probably will go unused, but thought it was something to add here because like hehe look at my deranged son :)

When it comes to the writing I'm going to split it into two chapters. The first half will be a summary+ of his upbringing, and the second on how he fucked up his arm and why. Just enough info to get a read on what his deal is pretty much. I just need to edit the first chapter and rewrite some parts then it's ready to annoy the world!

I'm trying to think of a good design for his original mother... I'm thinking dark hair and milf (¬‿¬)･ﾟ✧ ... honestly I need to start drawing out the designs for all the other TS OCs I've accumulated over the year (?) here's a fun list-

Hickery (bloodhound OC... dilf oc...I've already been made fun of for his name, but it stuck to me so I'm keeping it!)

Maya (another bloodhound OC)

Cove (Hound's ex-husband)

Cetcher's gf + informant, who still needs a good name...

and that one guy! (doesn't have a name yet... but is important in Hound's part of the story... she bashed some of his guys in the back of head with a hammer... it was a whole thing... Leander got involved... gang war stuff, don't worry about it...)

There are technically more OCs, like that Hightown lady Noble befriended during their first few weeks in town. However, I'm not sure if I'm including her in the final plot meeting. But yeah, anyway I'm rambling so on to Noble news!

For Noble, everything is plotted out in advance surprisingly…character playlist and all... just need to find the words to explain their story other than “parasite with a weird God complex feels guilty” I do have some old memes and art of them though!

Noble curse stuff...

Childhood cult stuff...

Current reality...

Poor person masquerade dress censored for tumblr...

Noble folks!

I actually wrote out a whole little thing for the black dress in a what-if scenario of...

"Oh! ,,,What if there is a masquerade in Hightown and Noble sneaks in to get some information on a certain individual who might know a thing or two about curses, but turns out the whole event if devious and their all eating babies or some fucked up shit,,,, and what if while sneaking around they see Leander and are like 'what's he doing here?' and they lock eyes but he ignores them as he ducks into a closed off area with some important looking people,,, once he comes out he walks past them and they lock eyes again as he leaves,,, Noble chases after him and once they catch up they get to see his cold and detached side right before he hides them from the other guest,,, after they talk for a bit, or more like Leander talking over them and their worries as he slowly wipes their memories while they protest that it's not fair only to wake up the next day back in their room,,, thankfully their curse is good for more then just silly bouts of insanity so they have a hunch on what happened, everyone around them who knew where they went the night before were obviously worried and the general consensus is that they might have been drugged and should go check in with Kuras just in case (wow this is getting long...) but on their way to the clinic they run into Leander and of course discusses their current problem with him ,,, words are exchanged,,, a kabedon may occur,,, as he whispers in their ear,,, all fun till he erases their memories again, or at least tires before receiving a little gift that makes him look at this whole curse thing from a different angle." DEEP BREATH! ...Anyways... yeah.

But it was taking so long to write out that I ended up losing motivation so yeah... like everything else we will pray the motivation comes back so I can finish that... plus who knows, I might make an x reader version of it if I can. (don't hold your breath... I'm extremely slow)

Anyway, I'm gonna to shut up now because I've yapped enough. I'mma make some hibiscus tea (ironic) and head to bed... Night night, if you made it this far, thank you for listening to my craziness <3

[the-bees-knives]

Hi yes hello. I saw that you rebloged the oc ask thingy and I'll be ordering for the whole table. Can I get a 2, 3 ,5, 7, 9, 10, 12, 13, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 32, 34, 37, 41, 45, 48, 50, 51, 55, 60, 65, 68, 69, 70, 73, 78, 83, 87, 89, 93, 96, 98, and 99? All for Biscuit. (IM REALLY REALLY SORRY I JUST WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM 😭)

This got real long... answers under the cut!

2. What are their favourite possessions? Why? (sentimentality, history, price, etc.)

His favourite possession... is you! ✋👁👁

Jokes aside, Biscuit isn't too materialistic. However, he does like the hairband he uses for his braid; it was a gift from his mother! The bow he wears around his neck is also a remnant of a modification of his uniform from his previous place of work. Biscuit used to work both as a mascot and a cook (it would switch depending on the situation) at his family's diner (restaurant? i don't know the term), and he added it because he thought it looked cute (also he couldn't do anything too feminine :( so this was the best he could do).

I will note that the cutlery embedded into him is not a part of his favourite possessions, despite his unwillingness to part with them. They're more like a part of his body, I guess?

3. Do They get jealous easily? If so, what usually causes it?

If Biscuit formed an attachment to someone and then saw them with someone else, he'd be wary of the new person, if not jealous. They'd have to become acquainted with Biscuit to ease him, though that might not always work. He'd still probably try to drag his companion away. Basically, he's pretty protective (possessive?) over those he likes.

5. What's their reputation like? Does this reputation contrast what they're really like?

I'm not sure how others would see him. Either it's "eccentric cosplayer (who's really in character)" or "weird dude". Probably the first one, as normal people couldn't survive with knives in their body for that long. Mostly Biscuit's just a weird dude though.

7. What's their "type"? What romantically attracts them to another person?

Biscuit doesn't really have a preference on appearance, it's more based on personality. Either it's someone who can care for him or someone who's just as feral/zero-braincell'd as him. He normally takes care of his victims, but he doesn't see that as attraction; it's more like caring for cattle before you eat it. If someone cared for him though, he'd be into it. As for the other one, it's just a feral power couple; both can be absolutely insane together (Run).

9. If they could change one part of their appearance, what would it be?

Spine that can turn 180 degrees. Reasoning: he has to sleep on his stomach because of the knives, but then his feet are bent uncomfy while on his stomach. Rotate spine for comfy feets. Plus, it'd be a cool party trick.

10. What's a simple thing that brings them joy?

Pets/physical affection. (Unfortunately, by unintentional design, this man is Unpettable.)

12. What's their position in their friend group? (leader, mom friend, chaos goblin, etc.)

The chill goblin: you can sit with him and have a nice hat, but if anything gets the interest of his one (1) braincell, he will go absolutely feral.

13. How forgiving are they? What do they consider unforgivable?

I think he's pretty forgiving, considering. If you attacked him, he'd probably consider it as play-fighting or something. He won't like it if you mess with his personal belongings, but he'll forgive you if it's for a good reason (for him) or if you give it back.

As for the things he'd find unforgivable, touching the two knives sticking out of his head is an absolute no-no. (The ones in his shoulders are sort of meh; he won't like it if you touch them, but he won't try to kill you for it.) The knives in his head are really sensitive, so he'll become agitated quick and snap if you try to move or remove them.

16. What food do they absolutely hate?

fish yucky >:(

17. Do they show a lot of affection, or are they pretty reserved?

If Biscuit had an s/o or a good friend (you know, people he's not interested in for food), he'd be pretty affectionate; he likes them and wants to show it! He might get a little close though, so make sure to set (and remind him of) personal boundaries.

19. What's their unusual quirk?

I don't know why, but I imagine that Biscuit can bleed infinitely. If you were to remove any of the knives embedded into him, the wound will just keep bleeding until they're inserted back in. I don't really have an explanation for this, but he is a human, so??? I just think it's neat.

20. Are they easy to wake up in the morning, or grouchy and sleepy?

While Biscuit does get up early, he's particularly lazy and groggy. It's kind of like those moods where you want to go back to sleep, but you can't because your body's awake.

21. What's their ideal date like?

Anywhere really, so long as his s/o is giving him attention.

32. What are they like at parties? Party animal, or awkwardly sitting in the corner drinking punch and reading?

Party animal, except everyone else is sitting in the corner trying to avoid him. He doesn’t really think before speaking, so he says whatever without any filter. (Plus, the knives don’t help. No, he won’t remove them.)

34. What’s their favourite drink? (Coffee, tea, juice, hot chocolate, soda, etc.)

Biscuit is a milkshake lad. His favourite is strawberry-banana!

37. Are they a hopeless romantic, or is that stuff just not for them?

Biscuit has a “love-at-first-interaction” mentality, like if someone shows genuine interest in him, then he wants to be with them and chases that feeling (and them).

41. What would they dress up as for Halloween?

Bold of you to assume that he’d even need a Halloween costume.

All jokes aside though, Biscuit has No Patience to put a costume together (or even look for one), so he’d probably just go with his normal wear. People have already mistaken the knives as cosplay/props anyway, so it’s just less work, instant results.

(He does have the old mascot suit, but he can’t wear it anymore without it hitting the knives.)

45. Are they always late, on time, or early?

None of the above, he forgot that event was today.

48. How dramatic are they?

Biscuit’s not the type to start drama, nor is he extremely emphatic (is that the word?) with his speech. He’s just kind of vibing.

50. Why would they be a good partner for a road trip?

Fun(?) to do activities with; will probably suggest random stuff to do if there’s no set itinerary (will probably suggest it anyway). If you’re looking for a spontaneous road trip, he’s your guy.

51. Why would they be a BAD partner for a road trip?

Will Never Sit Still; must be kept under watch constantly, otherwise he’ll run off to who knows where. (Just keep him on a leash or something)

55. Choose a vine you think perfectly encapsulates their character.

This video has pretty strong vibes of brainrot, so I think it's appropriate.

60. What sappy thing will they cry at? (romance movies, cute cat videos, etc.) Would they deny crying about it later on?

Biscuit loves all types of animals, especially furry ones (so dogs, cats, bats, rats… bean toes are a plus). So he’d absolutely cry if shown cute pet videos and gush about how precious and baby each one is. No denial either, if you confront him about it, he’d just justify it by gushing about them more. (He doesn’t have any pets of his own though. I wouldn’t trust him with a pet.)

As a side note, if he found out his victim was a beastkin or could turn into an animal or something, he’d be really conflicted on whether to harm them or not, but would ultimately decide against it.

65. Do they give people a lot of nicknames?

Biscuit isn’t creative enough to make genuine nicknames. However, if he forgot your name (and he probably would), he’d just name something off of your appearance (“pink jacket”, “shark guy”, things like that).

68. Are they easy to fluster? What would you have to do to truly fluster them?

Biscuit can only really be flustered by people he likes or people that he thinks are close to him. He’ll melt and nuzzle you if you surprise him with something nice, physical or otherwise :)

69. What’s their dream vacation like?

Go to the countryside and run around and be feral. Then chill in the evening and take a bath, because he needs to make sure his knives are clean.

70. Are they a good liar?

Biscuit doesn’t even try to lie. He’s really impulsive, and he doesn’t see what’s wrong with what he does. If he tried to lie, it’d be stupid/simple and obvious that it’s a lie, but he’d stick to his guns and insist that it’s true. Though, his voice/expression wouldn’t fluctuate, so you’d have to believe either in common sense or him.

73. Are they more book smarts, or street smarts?

Street smarts; this man’s head is empty (except for the two knives in there but).

78. What’s something they’re really bad at?

Almost anything that involves careful planning and concentration to complete. Things like puzzles or sewing; if it doesn’t give immediate satisfaction, then what’s the point?

The only things that Biscuit does pay attention to are cooking and, by extent, caring for his victim (as they’re a part of the cooking process).

83. What are they like as an s/o?

Loyal and (possibly) clingy. Will want to accompany you for days, then vanish out of thin air due to impulsiveness (will absolutely forget to feed his victim during this time, if he has one). Forgets about physical boundaries, but means well (trying to show affection).

Biscuit’s love languages are, in no particular order: physical touch, acts of service, and quality time. Personal hug-buddy that can cook :)

87. Do they like spicy food?

Yes he does! I like to imagine that he incorporates spice from time to time into his dishes. I don’t know what his tolerance would be though due to lack of experience (I will perish).

89. What would they get into a petty argument over?

Which animal is the best? Answer: it’s all of them. (Though he does have a preference towards furry animals, he tries to be unbiased in this argument.)

93. What type of movies do they like to watch?

Both gorey horror movies and feel-good movies (especially if they have animal protagonists). They’re just fun to watch.

96. What’s their sense of humour like? (Dad jokes, morbid humour, basic knock-knock jokes, stand-up comedy, etc.)

Physical humour, stand-up, and maybe surreal humour. Anything else might be too complex for him.

98. How competitive are they?

He’s not very competitive on his own, though if someone challenges him to a contest, he’s still going to try to beat them for the satisfaction of it. Don’t challenge him to a contest if you want to have chill times with him.

99. What would they wear to a formal event? Describe their outfit!

Biscuit has No Standards when it comes to social events, so he’s going as normal. If he had to dress fancy though (and if he had access to it), he’d probably just wear a simple pink dress shirt and dress pants + suspenders. Slick his hair back too. The knives stay.

(I don’t even think he can enter most shops with the knives, fake or not. I don’t know; I’ve never entered an establishment with visible knives before.)

This was a long post, so let me know if I missed anything;;

[baka-monarch]

What The Fuck!?

(A.N: before we start with the story I just wanna say that this is based off of this post by @lance-alt​ . Also, alot of creators on here got mentioned in the story, like actual mentions so if you got mentioned just know that I love what you create and wanted to include you because I love your interpretations of the sides, and you do not have to read this at all if you don’t want to and if you want me to take you out of the story please DM me and tell me so that I can)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SLIGHT MENTION OF VORE FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS, MENTION OF USYEMPETHETIC SIDES, SHITTING N SOME HEADCANONS EVEN THOUGH I MYSELF LOVE THEM

The Sides are lost. They find themselves in a familiar and yet unknown place.

They will soon find someone dark. And someone far too shiny and bright… Too innocent.

The Sides meet…

their fanon-selves.

 ...

 It had started like any normal day. The sides existing as a part of Thomas, helping him with his daily dilemmas, the usual things. Until Thomas took a nap. Then the sides suddenly found themselves in a white void. It wasn’t a dream, they could confirm that much from the other dreams that Thomas had. Also from the confused looks on the twin’s faces who were in charge of dreams, like how Remus had caused Thomas’ nightmare that they had disgusted in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts.

“Where are we?” Logan spoke up, voicing everyone’s concerns.

“Wherever it is, Thomas has never thought about it before.” Roman muttered as he glanced around.

“Yeah, I know his brains can be scooped out at times, but not even he can have a mind this empty.” At Remus’ comment, most of the others cringed in varying degrees, with Logan being the only one unaffected, only rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Although your metaphor usage could use some work, you are correct. This place is too empty to be a part of Thomas.” Logan conceded.

“If this isn’t Thomas...then where are we?” Virgil gleaned around wearily, trying to come up with his own explanation for this situation.

“It’s really blank here...maybe Thomas is in a coma?” Roman tried, to which Virgil’s eyes widened.

“Impossible, how would we be active if he is not?” Logan debated.

“I don’t know! Do you have any ideas, Sherlock Drones?” Roman rebutted, causing Logan to roll his eyes and fix his glasses.

“Unfortunately, no. There is not enough evidence...anywhere to make a proper inference on the situation.” Logan finished adjusting his glasses by the time he finished, gaining an annoyed huff from Roman.

“Heya, kiddos? Maybe we shouldn’t argue. We’re all confused right now, and getting upset isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Patton butted in to make sure things didn’t escalate.

“Thank you, Patton.” Logan gave a curt nod of agreement.

“Fiiiine!” Roman whined after a bit.

“It would be wise to explore, to see if we can find any clues as to where we are.”

“I’ll do it!” Remus jumped in. “Who knows, maybe we all died a gruesome death!” He cackled.

“No need.” Janus approached the group from behind, having already explored himself. “Look behind us.” When turning the sides were surprised to find the area behind them was not all whit. On it there were words like what one would find in a google doc currently describing their situation as they lived through it. 

“What the fuck?” Virgil muttered. He had a Tumb.lr so he knew what fanfiction was, and this looked like it. “This can’t be happening…” He groaned, knowing it was happening.

“Aw, they’re writing about us Virge! Like the people on that one app you use.” Patton cooed, only knowing of the fluff part of fanon.

“Pat, you don’t understand. This isn’t good.”

“Oh nonsense kiddo.” Patton dismissed. “Have you guys seen the art they draw of us? It’s so cute!” Virgil internally cringed knowing that not all of it was like that.

“Either way,”-Janus cut off their small conversation.-“We need to find a way out of here.” Janus focused slightly more on Virgil for his next comment. “Whether this is real or not.” Virgil shivered at the thought of them not being real, or even acting like they do in the things that people create. 

Everyone agreed, and soon they were on their way to explore this strange new environment.

 …

 Soon enough, however, the sides are lost. Which brings us back to where this story began. As they searched for their original location, or even the mysterious floating words, they come upon a familiar and yet unknown place. It looks strikingly like a Disney movie kingdom. With one half, filled with bright colors, lush fields, enchanting forests, and a large white castle with a red roof. The other half being dark and dangerous, the colors fading, plants rotting, instead of animals there only creatures of unknown origin, and in the middle, a black, crumbling, castle, with striking green roofing. It was almost as if...it were made for the twins.

In fact, as they got closer they could hear two far off shouts, with simultaneous silhouettes, motioning towards them, as if pointing them out to someone...or something, else.

“Uh...guys?” Virgil trailed off wondering if the others had noticed.

“On it.” Romas was quick to pull out his sword, Remus quickly following suit with his morning star.

It was unnecessary however, as once the silhouettes were in view, they looked exactly like the twins. 

“Wha…” Roman lowered his sword as he saw this. As they got closer more figures came into view. All of which looked like the sides to varying degrees. There were thousands. Some were small, some were even giants, and there were alot that weren’t even human.

“Oh! Hi there kiddos!” A Patton(?) came running past the twin’s doppelgangers. “You’re probably really confused right now, I know alot of us were when we appeared!” The sides just looked at the Patton look-alike  dumbfounded. The first to break out of it was Logan.

“I do not wish to appear rude, but, who are you and where are we?” Logan queried.

“Oh, I’m Patton by @baka-monarch !” Patton chirped. “And you’re in The Imagination!”

“The what now-?” “How did you-?” Both Roman and Virgil asked at the same time.

“Hm?” The other Patton tilted his head confused.

“One at a time now kiddos…” Their Patton silently reminded them. Roman nodded to Virgil to let him go first.

Virgil inhaled, taking his cue. “How did you say a mention? That only works when typed in social medias.” Virgil wondered confused.

“Oh! That’s just my fander creator kiddo!” This Patton didn’t miss a beat as he answered happily. Virgil stared at him blankly as he came to a horrifying conclusion.

“We’re in a f*****g fanfiction.” He jumped slightly at his bleep out. “What was that?”

“Oh, Jan Jan did that I wouldn’t have to hear any vulgar language.” All of them looked back at Janus who looked forward, uninterested, definitely trying not to hide his embarrassment at what this other him did, definitely not. 

“...Okay… My turn!” Roman exclaimed. “What is “the Imagination”?” He used air quotes.

“Yeah, I was wondering that too, Mr. The 6th Day clone.” Remus added.

“Oh! Don’t you know? It’s the place you and Roman can go to to summon anything.You can even change the entire world around you!” Patclone chirped.

“What.” They all said in unison with worry, apart from the twins who were excited.

“Yeah! Isn’t it cool!” Patclone said oblivious to the consequences of the twins having this power could cause. “Oh yeah, do you want me to introduce you to everyone?”

“Please, I am intrigued about how our counterparts might act.” Logan conceded.

“Okie dokie then! Follow me!”

 …

 It had been a few hours at this point and they still weren’t even an eighth of the way through yet. There were so many headcanons, variations, AUs, OCs, OOCs, designs, everything. It was almost too much to handle.

“-this is @tscampfireau ‘s sides from their au-” The Virgil hissed and bit towards them as they almost walked on their pentagram that they were making out of… was that blood? The Patton and Logan were helping them by t-posing as a barrier against the other sides. “-yeah they can be a...fun bunch to hang out with. Oh, and here’s @bleepblopbloop56 ‘s sides.”

“How, and why are they hotter than us..?” Roman mumbled to Virgil, only getting a weird look in response.

“Then there’s @mango-shpango ‘s and @rondoel ‘s ones, he’s got a lot-” Patclone shrugged it off, but King caught all of their eyes. He didn’t have to look like the one they knew for them to know who it was… “Oh, hey there @that-prey-lounge and @tiny-peter-rabbit ‘s sides!” He greeted them. As they turned a corner there was a group of sides that were made of metal like robots. “Oh, there’s @burnadolt ‘s fnaf au!” He waved. As they approached a tavern the last group greeted was, “Heya @nommy-thoughts ‘ sides, how are you adjusting?” there were several positive responses from many of them, and as the sides looked closer they could see that a few were smaller than a human hand not only that but nearby (possibly made by someone else), were the sides they’d seen from afar earlier that were giants.. They hadn't noticed them yet here because of how closely compact the buildings were and how their size made what was visible from their perspective look like buildings.

As they all entered the tavern, they saw that there was only one group of sides here. “Hiya guys! New sides I’d like you to meet @baka-monarch ‘s group.” There were several different hellos. “And my friends, I’d like you to meet… to meet..? I’m sorry but who’s your creator?” Virgil was the one to answer.

“@thatstha-MMPH!” Virgil was only part of the way through before the other’s Janus made him slap his hand over his mouth as the other sides in the room went pale. “What was that for?” Virgil asked, his voice muffled by his hand.

“You can’t say his name. Not here.” Patclone explained cryptid. They all fell into an awkward silence, until Roman changed the subject.

“Why are there...two of you?” Roman observed.

“Oh!” Patclone chirped. “I was created just for this au! Just so I could be your guide!” He paused for a moment thinking before continuing. “I guess I’m like the Monika of this world.” Again, everyone paled, some not understanding, others...understanding too well. “Welp, I guess you want to go explore now! Jan Jan, do you and Patty wanna go have fun while they look around?” Both mentioned sides blushed.

“I told you not to call me that…” Janus mumbled as he took Patclone’s hand and the other Patton stood up to quickly join them as they went off to a separate room.

 …

 Only an hour had passed and the sides had already split off into groups with their counterparts. The Roman’s comforting each other while being completely random, some of them being sad little puffballs that the strong egotistic Roman’s had decided to protect, while others were a mix or just completely unsympathetic and degrading anyone the came in contact with, especially the Virgils. Virgil had kind of separated himself from the other Virgils since 90% of them were cowering away from everything and just having constant anxiety attacks, while the few who were different either had power that they abused, or were fawning over the other sides. The Logans had formed an army of science lead by the Logan from @askdarksidelogan and the other dark sides from his au, this Logan was very robotic looking, cruel, and unfeeling...well, almost unfeeling as the Deceit from his au was his boyfriend and the Remus was really close friends with him. Janus was busy trying to coral in all his different counterparts as some of them made plans to kill everyone around them and end the government, while others were hiding due to PTSD about the angst they have been through. The Remuses just vibed in their corner, killing, being gross, and annoying the other aspects. Finally the Pattons. Patton had basically adopted the ones that were child-like and too innocent for their own good while avoiding the unsympathetics that were teaming up with other unsympathetics and the ones who were...horny… Actually everyone was avoiding the horny ones.

But that was just the simplified version of the chaos. Logans were capturing people to test, Deceits were arguing over their name even though one was already canon, Romans were either being complete idiots or crying silently to themselves, while they were targeted by the unsympathetics along with the Virgils, everyone too scared to even try to tussle with the army of Logans.

Virgil sat back on a hill and watched it all unfold. How had the community gotten this far without this much chaos? He had no idea. A few other counterparts were up there with him but he didn’t mind since they mostly seemed chill. A Virgil approached and sat down next to him exhausted, and judging by the paint he was covered in he had just come from the Romans’ corner.

“Romans a little too much?” Virgil tried making conversation.

“Yeah…” He breathed. “It was getting a little too rowdy and I wanted to get my Roman out of there so he wouldn’t get hurt.” With no Roman in sight, Virgil assumed that he had been unsuccessful.

“So, which Roman is yours?” Virgil wondered.

“Hm?” The counterpart tilted his head confused until it clicked. “Oh, no, he’s not down there right now.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny Roman. “See.”

“Oh…” Virgil was at a loss of words. What does a person say to that? After that they just sat there in silence as Virgil’s counterpart and the Roman snuggled slightly through a hand to body contact. 

“So…” Virgil decided to try again. “What’s it like, y’know, being shipped?” Virgil wondered, seeing how it seemed these two were in some kind of relationship. Virgil had always found it kind of weird, but, maybe there was more to it…

“I mean, it’s like any other relationship I guess… falling in love and deciding to be together.” The counterpart mumbled as the tiny Roman rubbed his hand to comfort him.

“But isn’t it weird how it isn’t real? How, you’re literally just playing out your creator’s fantasies because they enjoy the idea of you being together?” Virgil wondered.

The counterpart just shrugged. “I try not to think about it… but, it really isn’t that weird, even if we’re fictional characters we have memories, motives, morals, opinions, feelings. Those are real. Even if they aren’t created by us, they are real. Every thought, every motion, every breath. That is us. Just because it was written, drawn, or even just imagined, it happened and that makes it real. Makes this feeling real.” He explained as he rubbed the little head of his Roman.

“Huh I… I guess you’re right, I never thought of it that way.” Virgil shrugged.

“No one does. Why do you think people are told not to cry over fictional deaths when they actually had feelings for a character, platonic or not?” The counterpart said. “It’s just a story on the outside, something thought to not affect people even though when our memories are shared with them, it can change them.” Virgil looked at his counterpart, curiosity growing about how he had so much knowledge.

“Who’s your creator?” Virgil finally asked.

“Why do I have to have one?”

“Touche.” 

They went back to a comfortable silence. It was nice. Until this one Janus came.

“Hey, Virgil, does Roman mind if I had him for a bit?” They asked.

“I don’t mind at all!” The tiny side exclaimed as he got on Janus’ hand. They soon left, but when that Janus vired the Roman they weren’t far enough away from Virgil for him not to catch a glimpse. He shivered. 

“Is that normal?” He wondered.

“Depends on the part of the community, but pretty normal and usually safe, so don’t worry.” The counterpart comforted him. It barely helped but at last Virgil knew that that Roman was safe… probably.

“Can I try!” Remus came brelling up the his, straight (heh) to the counterpart.

“Only if you want to.” They replied.

“I do!” Remus wriggled with excitement.

“Alright, let's go find you one of the groups of sides either with the power to shrink you or are giants.” Virgil led Remus off the hill as Remus kept talking about everything that could go wrong but probably wouldn’t.

Weird. Was all Virgil could think as he watched them leave.

 …

 He saw a lot that day but never saw that Virgil again, as if he had vanished mysteriously. It didn’t matter to him right now though as he had been stuck with babysitting duty over all the little kid sides.

“F*** this.”

 …

 Virgil looked over the story he just read one more time. It was written by a small creator called @baka-monarch , who focussed more on reblogging than they did their own content.

“That was trash.”

…

…

…

“Reblog.”

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

I wanna hear abt ur ocs owo 👉👈🥺

AAAA omg bless u you’re a peach <3

I would love to tell you about my OCs I’m like Charlie It’salwayssunny over here I’ve got boxes full of OC stuff I’m just dying to talk about. I’ll put everything under a read more so anyone that’s not interested can just skip past here cause I’m about to get RAMBLY okay let me tell you about my beloveds

Okay so by far my favorite creative project right now is my novel that I’ve been planning on & off since January of 2019, the working title is Villainous, it’s like the most refined and likely to actually go somewhere of all my story ideas and I swear this thing holds my entire soul

The actual story is a play on the classic Career Woman RomCom setup except her name is ~Magnate~ and her big city career that never gives her time for love is ~Supervillain~

unfortunately I don’t have any art of her or any of the other characters yet because good super designs are difficult to nail down, but I’m working on it!

Anyway Magnate is amazing and a bit of an ass and I like her so much <3 She’s a big time supervillain that uses the high tech gadgets she creates for your standard robberies heists kidnapping the mayor the usual. Her parents were shitty white collar criminals that on top of being totally uninvolved in their daughter’s life embezzled from their numerous charity organizations, leading her to be suspicious of anyone that calls themselves a hero + giving her a whopping case of trust issues and a loose grasp on ethics, cuz hey, morality may be a ruse but the power and prestige sure aren’t. She's worked hard and climbed the ladder and made a name for herself as a kickass supervillain, and she plays cool and dramatic but underneath all the bravado she’s just an endearingly awkward nerd who wants a friend, which is where the next character comes in~

So for plot reasons Magnate joins up with another even more infamous supervillain to get a spot as his right hand woman in his plan for world domination, and she’s fine and everything’s business as usual until she’s told that she has to work with another person he’s recruited for her part of the plan to do biochemistry stuff synthesizing the compounds they need while she engineers the tech components, and so enters best boy Dr. Bodhi Bright who crashes into her carefully curated life and ruins everything in the nicest way :)

listen, I LOVE this guy he’s weird he’s a weirdo, just a chill funky lil dude with the most incomprehensible moral compass on Earth. Because of their job he and Magnate have to spend a lot of time together forcing Magnate to actually socialize for once beyond hurling quips at her nemesis, and right of the bat Bodhi completely throws her off her game vis a vis her supervillain image with just his whole deal. He’s this sweet polite guy who’ll talk about a death ray in the same casual tone as the minutiae of city parking, he’s new to the villainy thing and he just thinks Magnate is cool. Bodhi thinks he’s just good at reading people but he actually has minor latent empathic abilities which let him pick up on Magnate’s bravado and so he’s just...not intimidated by her at all. He completely circumvents the whole ‘big evil supervillain’ thing and just talks to her like they’re normal coworkers. And it’s not like they can just find somebody else to replace him so Magnate’s forced to respond and build an actual relationship and rapport with someone for the first time in ever. So they get closer and become actual friends, Bodhi starts calling her ‘Meg’ because Magnate kind of sounds like Margaret, and she lets him. Meg shows him the ropes of villainy, and just sort of learns to be a person again through working & developing this friendship with him, remembering what it’s like to be genuinely happy and excited about her everyday life and care about more than just her job, to open herself up to care about other people at all, and this is a romantic comedy so of course as the story progresses they fall in love and just—GAH I love their relationship so much they're so good for each other I could talk about them forever and I’m literally writing a book about it so like yeah they’re great. my darlings <3.

Here I’ve got some memes to give a better impression of their dynamic

I've only really got one other important character left to talk about aside from Meg & Bodhi's boss (he's literally the worst & the major antagonist for the book that's all that needs going into for now otherwise this thing is just going to reach unwieldingly more rambly and specific heights) and she's the secondary antagonist, superhero extraordinaire and Meg's nemesis AmaZing (get it? like amazing? except it sounds like amazon? cuz she's a lady superhero—) in a shocking turn of events this woman is the best person out of any of the people here and also the most well adjusted, she is also a very interesting character to me and I could probably pull a whole other book out of her character if I wanted to. AmaZing’s real name is Zoe Amison, before she was a hero she was a professional ballerina with a kickboxing hobby that she used to keep in shape, her first night out I think she was just straight up dressed in her costume for Firebird or something. She has superhuman strength and agility, her powers manifest with these bursts of golden sparks and arcs of electricity which she can direct as a close range weapon, basically she’s very good at the big punchy aesthetics. She’s known as one of the best superheroes in terms of like who they are as people, she tries to help rehabilitate the supervillains she fights, including Magnate, even though most of them have none of it, any money she gets from her hero work she donates back to the community so she can contribute more than just punching muggers, and she does a lot of activism and charity events on the side. She makes most of the money she needs to eat and whatnot in the cornerstore she inherited that her family’s owned for generations, and she lives in the apartment above the store with her girlfriend because YES she’s a lesbian YES her girlfriend is trans YES they are disgustingly in love and YES they own a cat named Petal together. (Her girlfriend’s name is Callie (short for Calliope) she’s a nurse and patches Zoe up when she gets hurt on the job)

And there is so much more I could say about this thing but that’s about all I can muster right now in terms of like a basic overview of these characters. Thank you so much for this ask dude this was so fun to do!!

[detroitbydark]

Title: Play With Fire- Part 2

Characters: Migs Mayfeld/”Pockets” (OC)

Rating: T

Summary: First Impressions

Warning: Blood? but not gore

A/N: So apparently Pockets is now and OC and I have more ideas then I care to admit for this pairing. Thank you to @crimson-dxwn​ for being my beta extraordinaire and listening to my rants and raves. Anything ya'll wanna know about these two crazy kids? let me know and I might explore it. Also, 3 ABY is approximately one year before the battle of Endor and the second Death Star and their reunion ( the first part in this) takes place about 9 ABY sometime after the second season of The Mandalorian.

 3 ABY

Sometimes you made the shot of a lifetime. Sometimes you didn’t.

Sometimes you made that once in millennia shot as Rebel artillery was destroying your nest and you went tumbling ass over blaster down a ravine with half a ton of loose debris and rocks.

You couldn’t win them all.

Migs got this. He understood it like he understood his unfortunate short stature or the hairline that had receded for too early in life. Those were the breaks.

You either lived with it or died with it and he was fully set on living until he was old and shriveled.

Some days it just sucked.

Today was one of those days.

“We got a live one coming through. Clear a table, will ya?”

The voice of his squad mate, Crikes, was too loud on his right as his weight pressed heavily into Smitty on his left. The rough outer rim accent bounced around in his bucket like a stray blaster bolt.

Kriff his head hurt.

Everything hurt actually, from his head to the tips of his toes. The slide hadn’t been that bad. Seven meters? Maybe ten? It was the sharp obsidian stone that had come down with him that had done him in. The razor sharp black stone had bludgeoned and gouged his armor, weaseling its way into the cracks and under the plastoid plating. It cut at his skin with each move he made. If the stims hadn’t helped numb him up he’d probably have passed out when the assault droid had helped yank him from the rubble.  His gauntlets were both cracked and he could feel a cool breeze coming through the cracks in his back plate. He’d liked his armor. Command wasn’t gonna take to kindly with having to replace it.

It was nice to pretend his biggest concern was getting a new set of plastoid requisitioned. 

“Hey medic!” Crikes’ voice cuts through his thoughts, “I said we need a hand over here!”

“Maker… do you have to yell so fragging loud? I mean-“

“What are you going on about?” Looking back he’s never sure what it was that he noticed first, but he likes to think it was her voice. Like an holomodel fantasy out of a good spice trip, she shuts that Hutt humping Crikes up, marching over with her hands on her hips and scowl on her face.

“We got an Imperial war hero here.” Crikes sounds chastened, but Migs doesn’t bother to look over to see if his face matches what he’s hearing because he’s in the presence of a fragging angel.

“Yeah? Look around. Got a lot of heroes here.” Sarcasm flows from her pretty pouty lips like water from a fountain. She sweeps her arm toward the other beds and the piles of bloodied plastoid littering the small field hospital. “This one ain’t any better or worse.”

Migs frowns under cover of his helmet. For a while he’s been wondering if he might have some bleeding going on somewhere. He feels a bit woozy when he turns his head too quickly to follow the angel as she grabs a datapad off a nearby cart. He was better then a majority of the scum around him. He was a sharpshooter, best of the best, and the bastard who single-handedly brought down the pair of x-Wings decimating their ground troops.

He tries to tell her as such but the words don’t come out of his mouth in any coherent thought. Angel freezes, looking up from the datapad she barks to his squad mate and Migs suddenly feels his bucket being pulled from his head.

“Designation number trooper.”

It’s an order not a question. He didn’t like orders, even from his own superiors but she’s damn pretty and his head hurts…

“Trooper? A number?” Angel looks up from the datapad. There’s concern on her face. She’s scanning his injuries. The ones she can see. Were they that bad? Migs reaches up and feels something warm and sticky against his temple.

“FO-593” Smitty offers for him.

“593… got it…” she takes a step closer, setting the datapad down and pulling gloves from her pocket. She’s got the prettiest hazel eyes, long lashes. Migs wonders if she’s seeing anyone. It’s probably one of those civvie doctors that signed on…

“593-“

“Mayfeld. It’s Migs Mayfeld.” He clarifies, ‘cause a pretty girl like her should be saying his name.

“Alright, Mayfeld, what happened?”

“He saved our asses is what he did!”

Crikes again. Maker, if the bastard kept stealing his glory he was going to deck him. Once the room stopped spinning.

“You know what?” The Angel looks about as amused with Crikes as

Migs felt. “I think it’s high time you two go get some rations in you and leave Mayfeld and I to our own devices.”

Smitty elbows Crikes, the plastoid of armor clattering as he tips his head toward the entrance.

“I’m good boys,” Migs offers the other two field operatives, “Let me get some alone time with the pretty girl.”

He ignores the raised brow directed his way and the crossed arms that follow. Nausea rolls through him as his buddies wander back the way they came.

“Frag… I think I’m gonna be sick.”

She does well. Manages to miss the first splash of vomit. The second retch hits her shoe.

“Son of a bitch… Maker fragging-“ 

The angel has a mouth on her. He could get used to that. Migs uses the sleeve of his under armor, exposed by the shattered plastoid to wipe his mouth.

“Sorry about that, Sweetness.” 

Her eyes narrow as she reaches behind him. “My name is not Sweetness. I am FM-111 to you trooper. Specialist Coronette if you're lucky.”

The words slip out, some verbal diarrhea to go along with what he was starting to think was a concussion. “I am lucky and you’re beautiful.”

“That’s it-“

“Pockets? Have we got an issue?”

Wait- was that a-

“No Coric, I’m good.”

The older man looks at Migs and Migs looks right back. No shit. A clone. You didn’t see that everyday. Guy’s got a head of close cropped salt and pepper hair, looks real dignified. He’s also… glaring? Ok yeah, that wasn’t good.

“If he’s giving you trouble I can-“

Angel’s…. Specialist Coronette’s face softens as she looks at the clone. Migs feels a little jealousy percolate deep down - accompanied by the occasional flip of his stomach. She pats the other man’s cheek fondly and he gives her a soft look.

Some guys had all the luck.

Migs closes his eyes as the world takes a big spin. He doesn’t mean to groan but the axis has tilted and the poles have just flipped and… Fek… he really is starting to not feel good.

“Hey… Mayfeld?” The voice is soft and Migs focuses on the sweet, silvery words. Slowly he opens his eyes and notes that Coronette, is at his side looking more concerned then she has the entire time he’s been in the damn med bay. Over her shoulder the clone medic gives his own appraising look.

“You got this Pockets?”

Migs sees irritation flash in sharp green eyes, not just green but, like, Endor. So bright and alive there wasn’t any way he could think to describe them other than the greenest Kriffing place he’d ever seen in his life.

“I’ve got it, Sir.” Her tone is sharp but the clone, her superior, doesn’t seem to take offense to it. She must not just be blowing smoke. At this point he doesn’t give a wamp rat’s ass. He really just wants to call it a day, catch a cycle worth of sleep and lay in bed til the gut-rending nausea goes the fek away.

“Uh-uh,” she tuts, irritation melted away, “can’t fall asleep on me just yet. You haven’t even shown me a good time yet.” She teases and Migs wills his eyes wide open.

“You’re flirting.”

“Maybe… or maybe I’m trying to keep you awake because you’ve got a concussion. You’ll never know.”

Specialist Coronette pokes and prods, shuffling him toward the edge of the gurney. “Wanna go somewhere more private?”

“Trying to get me all alone, beautiful?”

She huffs. It sounds half amused. He can work with that.

“I’m trying,” she grunts, looping his arm around her shoulder and manhandling him into standing, “to get you in a private room so I can assess your wounds without the whole battalion seeing you stripped down.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” His head spins at the sudden change in momentum. “I’m not that kind of man. You gotta wine me and dine me before-“

She twists under his arm and sharp pain shoots through his side cutting off his words more effectively then any shushing ever could. 

“Easy Mayfeld.” He hears a familiar voice but can’t place which slimy barve he knew it came from. “You can’t handle that one.”

A pair of voices, masculine and feminine, grunt in agreement as he and his medic slowly hobble past and to a clean, empty ‘room’.

It’s a room about as much as a room as a troop transport is a luxury yacht. Four ceiling to floor curtained walls block it off from the other rooms and the larger, open floor of the hospital. He manages to collapse onto the exam table as the world takes another vicious whip around. This time he manages to spew in the bucket shoved under his nose.

He apologizes after he finishes. “Thanks. You know, you keep showing me basic human decency like this and you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

Coronette is pulling clean gloves on and hunting in a shallow drawer. She arches a pretty brow in his direction as she finds a pair of shears. “I have to clean up whatever mess you make. Don’t confuse decency with laziness on my part.”

“Whatever you say, Pockets.”

Her shoulders tense for a moment and then she takes a deep breath and lets the bait he’s laying out go to waste.

“I’m getting this armor off you. ‘Fraid it ain’t doing you any good anymore.”

Migs glances down at the cracked plastoid. His pauldron is long gone and both pairs of vambrace and gauntlets are thrashed. There’s so much under armor and skin showing, Migs isn’t really sure how they're still even on him. Pockets manages to get them off without much to it and little input from the guy wearing them. She begins on his cuirass and Migs thinks of half a dozen smart ass remarks about getting his clothes off, but there’s something going on under the armor and each time she begins working at the cracked and twisted chest piece it steals the air from his lungs.

“Karking hells,” he curses lowly. 

“I’ve almost got it…” 

Migs takes a deep breath and holds as still as he can. It kriffing hurts, burns hotter than two suns over Tatooine. Just when he’s sure he can’t handle a second more of it, the plastoid falls away in two pieces. It’s like a pressure he hadn’t realized was on his chest has finally been removed and he can breathe-

“Son of a mudscuffer-“

Migs doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong. He can feel it. Warmth spreading and staining the under armor across the left side of his chest. 

“Karking thing was putting pressure on-“ she trails off again as she retrieves the shears from her pocket. She’s efficient and wastes no time slicing up the front of his under armor. The black fabric falls away from one side and clings to blood staining his other. Coronette doesn’t stop moving, flowing from one spot to the next. She doesn’t stop talking either.

“Fek. Fek. That’s not gonna fekking come out in the wash-“ 

He could laugh but she’s pulling the clinging fabric away from his chest and pressing bacta soaked gauze into the laceration. If that didn’t burn like the wrong end of a burner’s incinerator he didn’t know what did. 

“Damn it! Is your kriffing processor pickled?! Warn a guy!” He's all bark and no bite at the mercy of the medic who continues to press hard on the wound.

“Shut it 593.” It’s grunted out as she continues to press with one hand and reach across him with the other for Palps only knew what. Sharp words fizzle on his tongue as he catches a glimpse of pale flesh down the top of her scrubs. Fek. He really loved a pretty pair of tits and judging by the rounded tops he can see and the slight jiggle as they move, Coronette’s were perfect. It’s better then any painkiller he could imagine… until she’s leaning back and catches the cast of his eyes.

“So are so kriffing lucky. You slimy little nerfherder- if I had two free hands.”

He should feel bad about being caught but Migs has had a day and he really can’t find it in him.

“Not my fault, maker gave you a gorgeous rack and Imperial uniforms don’t hide it.”

He winces as she yanks the bacta soaked gauze away, blood beginning to well up again immediately. She doesn’t warn him before pressing the gun into the open wound and squeezing the trigger. Bacta foam fills in the area as he hisses, sealing the laceration. She doesn’t stop to make sure he’s ok before she’s spinning and grabbing more supplies. A bacta patch gets slapped over the quick dry foam.

“Weasly stormtrooper scum…” she continues under her breath.

“Aww come on now, I’m sorry.” He tries to offer a weak smile but her back is turned as she furiously enters data onto a pad. “I really am. When’s the end of your shift. I’ll buy you a drink?”

The anger that flashes in those forest eyes when she whips back is the sexiest thing he’s seen in a standard cycle. If the stims weren’t beginning to wear off and his body beginning to hurt to Malachor and back, he’d be getting stiff in what was left of his armor.

“You think I’d have a drink with you?”

“Come on sweets, what really matters is if you think you’d have a drink with me.”

Her eyebrows skim her hairline. “Are you kidding me? Give up already. Karking little-”

“Not the size of the aak in the fight but the fight in the aak, Sweetheart.”

“Not in your life, Buckethead.”

Her ass looks almost as good in her scrubs as her tits but she doesn’t give him a chance to say so before she storms out.

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva and Hoseok go clubbing with Soonyoung for her birthday. Aviva has a panic attack.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: drinking, panic attack, cultural appropriation) [Masterlist]

Track 16: Afraid of the future

 Doubt - Twenty One Pilots

 “Scared of my own image, scared of my own immaturity

 Scared of my own ceiling, scared I'll die of uncertainty”

 January 4th 2013

To start off the year, Aviva posted a previously unreleased solo track Namjoon gave her. She thought the subject matter of the lyrics (“Time passes and I’m already in the 10th grade/ But I haven’t done anything so I’m worried about my future”) fit well with the troubled youth image the studio was going for.

“Come on… Get dressed…” Soonyoung whined, pulling Aviva away from her computer. “You promised!”

“I know, I know,” Aviva said. “Show me what you want me to wear so I can disagree, choose something you don’t want me to wear, and then find a compromise.”

Soonyoung’s birthday was on January 1st. This was a busy time of year, but she had managed to convince Hoseok and Aviva to sneak out clubbing with her that Friday as a belated present. Not that Hobi needed much convincing. Of course he loved dancing, but also, turning nineteen internationally this year, and able to legally drink, he was excited for the opportunity.

They started off the night going out for a drink with Yoongi, Jin, and Namjoon.

“You two look hot,” Yoongi said, bluntly as ever as he looked over the girls. Soonyoung was wearing a skin-tight green dress with pink pointy heels. Her hair was lightly curled, and her makeup was done up to the max. Aviva was barefaced as usual and wearing a black mini skirt, black tights, black boots, and an oversized black Green Day t-shirt.

Hoseok pouted. “Yah! How come you didn’t compliment me?”

Yoongi looked him over, nodded, and gave him a thumb’s up.

Hoseok blushed slightly. Namjoon laughed.

“Can we go into the bar before my break is up?” Jin grumbled.

Soonyoung leaned on Aviva, watching Namjoon and Hoseok down shots.

“Ah…I remember that age.”

“You’re literally only a year older than us!” Namjoon complained, his face flushed from either the alcohol, annoyance, or both.

“It makes a big difference sometimes,” Yoongi said wisely.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung nodded. “Respect your elders.”

“I should have the most respect, then,” Jin said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

“I just wanna go home,” Aviva muttered.

“Ah.” Jin smiled. “It’s Avi-yah saying that for once instead of Yoongi-yah.” Yoongi took a sip of his drink, grinned, and flipped him off. “Come, come, Avi-yah, this bar has some fun food too, let’s get something tasty, yeah?”

She squinted suspiciously at him. “You’re just bribing me cause I’m the designated driver, huh?”

“Also, he wants to eat more,” Yoongi put in.

“That also,” Jin agreed.

“Eh.” Aviva shrugged. “I’ll accept the bribe.” Aviva didn’t love drinking, or clubbing, but she loved her friends, and she didn’t mind tagging along with them, especially for a special occasion. She caught Jin’s eye. “Just remember you have work tonight, Jin-oppa.”

He groaned. “Why did you remind me, Avi-yah?”

“Skip and come dancing with us instead, oppa~” Soonyoung said, fluttering her shimmery mascara eyelids at him. Jin swallowed dryly. Yoongi snorted, refilling his hyung’s glass for him.

“Yah, leave him alone!” Namjoon said to Soonyoung.

“Are you sure he wants her to?” Yoongi said, smirking as he leaned on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Namjoon frowned and turned to Jin, his face serious.

“Seokjin-hyung, you wouldn’t choose Soonyoung-ssi over me—over Bangtan, right?”

Jin blinked at him. “Are you drunk already, Namjoon-ah? I thought your tolerance was higher than this…”

“I think these two got over-excited and overdid it,” Yoongi said, motioning at Hoseok at Namjoon. “Look at how red Hoseokie is.” He poked Hoseok on the cheek, laughing as Hoseok pouted.

“Well, we should go before he’s too drunk to dance,” Soonyoung thought, standing up.

“Not possible,” Hoseok said smugly.

“If you start puking all over the dance floor, you’re too drunk to dance,” Soonyoung told him. “That’s the point I make you go home and one of your boys has to nurse you all night.”

“…We all know it would be me,” Jin said, sighing. “Let’s just leave.”

Aviva dropped those who were working off at the office before driving the rest of them to the club.

At the club, Soonyoung and Hoseok pulled Aviva through the press of twisting bodies out onto the floor, sticking together as a trio.

“You’re improving,” Hoseok said in Aviva’s ear. She could just barely hear him over the thumping music. She opened her mouth to thank him, but no words came out. His smile fell and he stopped dancing. “Avi, are you okay?”

Soonyoung stopped swaying on the other side of them. She took one look at Aviva’s face and cooed softly. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here.” She made a path through the crowd, careful not to touch Aviva or stand too close. Hoseok followed behind them, guilt and confusion twisting in his stomach. Out in the alleyway, Aviva took quick gulps of the cold air. “Can you count it out, Avi?” Aviva shook her head, her eyes tearing up as she breathed heavily. “Yes you can. Come over here by the wall…” Still without touching her, Soonyoung shepherded Aviva so that she was facing the wall, her palms pressing against the rough stone. Hoseok could see tears dripping down the side of her face, hitting the ground.

“Aviva…” He took a step closer to her.

“Hobi, it’s fine,” Soonyoung said firmly.

“Obviously, it’s not,” he growled. Aviva flinched. Hoseok took a breath, adjusting his voice to be softer. “How can I help?”

“Can you get her some cold water?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He quickly slipped back into the club and came out again to find Aviva and Soonyoung sitting up against the wall, with their knees against their chests. Aviva was picking at a hole in her tights. Soonyoung was casually holding her pointy heels in one hand, texting with the other. Hoseok privately thought that only Lee Soonyoung could look so effortlessly cool squatting in a dirty alleyway.

Aviva didn’t meet his eyes when he handed her the water, but she drank. Hoseok was glad to see that her breathing appeared to be back to normal.

“…So,” Soonyoung said, after a moment of silence. “I’ve told Jin-oppa to come pick us up. He’ll take the train over and then drive us back.” Aviva’s eyes widened as she looked at Soonyoung, shaking her head. “No buts, kiddo, you’re not driving tonight.”

“…Okay,” Aviva said weakly. “Um, but, if you and Hobi want to stay and dance—”

“Hmmm.” Soonyoung made a bit of a face and looked at him.

“Can’t say I’m in the mood, for once,” he said honestly.

“Sorry.” Aviva stared at the toes of her boots.

“Hey.” He bent down, trying to catch her eye. “Nothing to apologize for, Avi-yah. I can dance whenever I want. Spending time with you is what makes my night special.”

“…Dork,” she muttered.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he said, smiling at her.

Jin didn’t ask any questions. Maybe he’d been warned against it by Soonyoung, Hoseok wouldn’t have put it past her. Hoseok had about a million questions he wanted to ask, but every time he opened his mouth, he caught a glimpse of Aviva’s puffy eyes and decided to stay quiet.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jin finally asked, after he’d dropped the girls off at their place. Hoseok frowned.

“I don’t know.”

“Soonyoung-ssi said she would be, and she knows Aviva-yah better than anyone, so I guess we’ll just have to trust her on this one,” he thought aloud. “…I’ll make pancakes tomorrow, invite them over.”

“She might not be up to it,” Hoseok thought.

“Then I’ll activate my special delivery service!” Jin said, cheerfully undeterred.

January 5th 2013

Hoseok was somewhat surprised when Aviva agreed to come to breakfast at the dorm, although Soonyoung apologized that she had prior engagements. Hoseok was frankly a little annoyed at Soonyoung for abandoning Aviva after what had happened… but she looked a lot better than he’d expected her to when he met her on the street out front of the dorm.

“Ah.” He tilted his head. “You’re wearing makeup.”

She flashed him a peace sign.

“Just a little. Soonyoungie is just as good at skin care as Jiminie, so my eyes were barely puffy at all this morning! What about you and Joon? Are you hungover that badly?”

“Um, we’re fine. Just took some medicine when we woke up and drank a lot of water. Aviva…”

“…I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“No, that’s not what I…” He sighed. “You don’t owe me anything. But… I want to know, if you’re comfortable telling me.”

“Backyard?” She suggested. He nodded. They walked around the building and she moved past the yard, coming to sit up against a tree behind a bush. It was a secluded area that she couldn’t possibly have known about without scouting it out beforehand. It was a safe place, he realized, and he was touched that she was allowing him inside.

He sat next to her, keeping a little space between them. She picked at the grass, shredding it methodically. His fingers itched, and he mirrored her, with a twist. He plucked wildflowers and started twisting them together into a bracelet, like his older cousin had taught him to do.

He waited a while, and when she didn’t speak, he prompted. “So, last night…”

“I get panic attacks sometimes. They used to be a lot more frequent, but I’ve developed certain coping mechanisms… I was on medication at some point, maybe I need to be again, I don’t know.” She sighed.

“What caused it?” Hoseok wondered.

“Hmmm, abnormal brain chemistry? Me repeating the same bad patterns over and over again? Pure dumb luck? Take your pick.”

“No, I meant, um, last night, specifically.”

“Oh. You mean like, a trigger? There isn’t always one, sometimes they just happen, like if I’m particularly tired or stressed, but… yeah, bright lights, loud noises, and crowds don’t usually aren’t exactly my kind of thing.”

Hoseok frowned. “You’re living in Seoul.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. And I grew up in New York City. I like a busy city, even if it makes my brain freak out sometimes.”

“And you’re the manager of an idol group…”

“Ah.” She grimaced. “Soonyoung was concerned about that at first as well, but… I’m very determined, you know? And I do love music, it’s just I can be extra sensitive to sounds sometimes, so I can wear earplugs or headphones at concerts, I mean, not to block out the sound entirely, but just… lessen the intensity a bit.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you out onto the floor.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t know. I’ve done my best to hide it, actually…”

His brow furrowed. “But Soonyoung-ah knew.”

“I told her I wanted to try,” she said to him. “That’s why she was more forceful than she would usually be. She would never make me do anything against my explicit wishes, she’s Soonyoung.”

He sighed. “Can I… can I learn things like, like how she was helping you last night?”

Her eyes widened. “Hobi, that’s not your responsibility—”

“I want to! I’m supposed to be your hope, remember?” He held out the finished flower bracelet to her.

“Okay.” She laughed, sliding it onto her wrist. It was a perfect fit. “Okay, I’ll send you some links. And I have to talk to Jin-oppa too, thank him. But…” She chewed at her lip. “Can you keep this quiet from the others for now?”

“It’s not my story to tell,” he said. “But you do know secrets are really hard to keep in this group.”

“I know. I should probably tell them, in case it happens again…well, it will happen again, but if it happens in front of any of you, and worse case scenario if it happens while we’re working…”

“If you say you’ve got a handle on it, I trust you,” he said. “But I still want to be there for you, for extra support.” He looked at her. “I really want to hug you right now… is that okay?”

She opened her arms.

In the dorm, she seemed as cheerful as ever as she ate Jin’s pancakes. Hoseok did think the others must have realized something was up, though. Yoongi took one look at her and piled extra bacon on her plate, and then actually got up to make her a cup of coffee just the way she liked it. Namjoon just squeezed her shoulder, noting when she stiffened, and then intercepting Tae zooming over to her for his usual greeting hug by wrapping his arm around the young man’s shoulders and ruffling his hair affectionately. Jungkook tilted his head, studying her from across the table, and then started telling her and Tae that the new issue in a comic they all liked to read was coming out soon.

Jimin sat down on her other side, reaching out to hold her hand. Hoseok caught her eye, silently asking if she needed help, but she shook her head.

“What’s this?” Jimin wanted to know, lifting her hand delicately as he studied the flower bracelet. She smiled.

“Just Hobi being cute.”

“Ah, what else is new?” Jimin shrugged. He studied her. “But you know what would look good with that makeup and that bracelet?”

“…What? You know I don’t do makeovers, Jiminie.”

“I know, I know.” He waved his hand. “Not a whole makeover, just… can I braid your hair, please?” He pouted. Surprisingly, she nodded quickly.

“Jen, Soonyoung and I used to braid each other’s hair,” she said as he squealed and dragged his chair so he could sit behind her.

“Really?” Jungkook said, looking as interested as he always did when Jenny was mentioned.

Slowly, Hoseok saw her relax against Jimin, and even give him a kiss on the cheek when he finished as a thank you.

“You look pretty,” Tae said. She made a disagreeable noise. “Fine, handsome then.”

“Yah! That’s my thing!” Jin protested.

“I can’t be handsome too, oppa?” Aviva pouted at him.

He took her hands in his.

“You can be the second-most-handsome, Aviva-yah. I will train you in my ways.”

“Thank you, teacher!” She bowed and everyone laughed.

Hoseok tried to act like his normal self, teasing Jimin about his red face, and asking Aviva if he could get a kiss too.

She shrugged and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Ha!” Jimin said. “Now your face is all red, hyung!”

“What?” Hoseok touched his face. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

After the pancakes were finished, the kitchen emptied except for Jin and Aviva, who stood side by side at the sink, Jin washing and Aviva drying.

She thanked him for last night, and for the pancakes, and gave him an abbreviated version of the explanation she’d given Hoseok.

Jin listened quietly, the silence stretching after she finished, as if he were making sure that she’d said everything she wanted to.

“Thanks for telling me,” he said, smiling gently at her. “You have given me a great sense of peace at times, please let me know if there’s anything I can ever do to do the same for you.”

“…You already do,” she said honestly. “With your mediation between the group members, your puns, and cooking.”

He suddenly put his dish down and walked over to the freezer. He pulled out a bag of frozen peas. “I’m pea’s keeper?”

Aviva snickered. “Extra points for the English!” She picked up a piece of fruit from the fruit bowl. “I a-peach-iate you.”

He blinked and then burst into laughter.

“I knew I liked you!”

Over the next week, Aviva and the boys had brainstorming sessions with the leaders of the stylists teams in order to formulate their looks for the debut. Namjoon’s makeover was finished first.

He wanted Aviva’s opinion, so she met him in the office hallway near the dressing room.

“Your hair!” Aviva exclaimed, staring at Namjoon’s shaved sides and faux-hawk.

“Um, Eunjung-ssi suggested something dramatic to grab attention,” he said. “Honestly don’t know if this makes me feel like less like myself, or more. Does it at least look okay?”

“Kind of cool, kind of lame?” Aviva said uncertainly. Namjoon frowned.

“So... neutral?”

“No, ah, I think you make it work somehow, because it’s you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cause you’re...” She motioned at him. “I don’t know, you always look good, even when you’re wearing things that don’t suit my personal tastes.” He stared at her. “What?”

“You think I’m good looking?”

“Well, yeah, you all are. That’s kind of why the marketing department wants to capitalize on your image so much.”

“...Right.” He sounded a little disappointed.

“Can I touch it?”

He blinked, and then nodded, leaning down. She rubbed the fuzzy shaved part of his head, smiling a bit.

“So...” He smirked. “You ‘sort of’ like the way it looks, but you definitely like the way it feels, huh?”

She nodded. “It’s a nice texture. I could get addicted to that...” She finally let go of him. He stayed leaning over for a moment, his face close to hers, his eyes searching hers for... what? “Maybe I should shave part of my head? But I’m not sure I could pull it off...”

He chuckled. “I think you’d look cool.” He tucked her hair behind her ears, his fingers continuing down her jawline before his hands came to cup her face.

“Namjoon…?”

He abruptly drew back, straightening up, his face pink.

“Sorry! That was probably too much. I know you don’t like being touched so much, I shouldn’t have—”

“Namjoon,” she said his name again, holding her hand up to stop him. “I don’t mind. I mean, maybe in the past I would have... back when Soon and Jen were the only ones to really touch me... but you guys touch me all the time, and I don’t mind, for some reason. It feels nice, most of the time.”

“So, you don’t mind when Hope and Taehyung-ah hang off of you?” Namjoon wondered.

“Most of the time, no.”

“And when you do mind, you’ll tell them?” He asked. She hesitated. “You have to tell us if we go too far. You’re a young woman surrounded by men most of the time... we should respect you and your boundaries.”

“I appreciate that,” she said. “Although I don’t think gender is that much of a factor for me.” He looked a little confused. “Never mind.” She grimaced. “I’m still figuring all that out.” She took his hand in hers. “Why don’t you show me your new wardrobe, hmm?”

He swallowed and nodded, his face brightening into a dimpled smile as he led the way.

Aviva startled as her phone buzzed. She sat up a bit, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth. It looked like she’d fallen asleep on the couch, reading some article on her computer.

She glanced at the text notification.

Joon: ‘r u up?’

She sighed. ‘Sort of. Why are you?’

 ‘Can’t sleep. So I recorded another vlog.’

 ‘Oh, are you addicted to it?’

 ‘No. People keep saying I’m awkward, so I want to improve.’

 ‘Aw, your awkwardness is part of your charm.’

 ‘…Thanks? Um, anyway, I was wondering, if you were up, if you could watch it and lmk if it seems too awkward. But if you’re too tired, just tell me some other time.’

‘I can look,’ she texted. ‘But I’ll probably try and go to sleep after that. And so should you.’

 ‘No promises, but I’ll do my best.’

‘That’s all I ask.’ She clicked the link he sent and snorted. ‘First note: outfit choice very interesting for a 2 am video.’

 ‘Interesting good or…?’

 ‘I think it’s cute, I think Joonho-ssi would be happy with it.”

 ‘Who?’

 ‘The leader of the clothing stylist team! Park Joonho-ssi!’

 ‘Ah, right.’

 ‘Also, I don’t think you’ve gained weight, and if you have it’s fine. If you’re hungry, you should eat, although, maybe not this late… drink some water or something and ask Jin to make you a nice breakfast in the morning.’

 ‘Okay, mom.’

 ‘Shut up, you’re the mom today.’

 ‘…Sure I am.’

 ‘Oh, and the little ‘fighting!’ exclamation at the end is really cute. I think it’s a solid vlog. You’re getting the hang of this, Joon.’

 ‘Thanks for indulging me and watching it this late.’

 ‘Anything for you. But if you need anything else, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’m going to sleep.’

Aviva was very excited to help film a small music video for a song Namjoon and Yoongi adapted from Kendrick Lamar's Swimming Pools. But when she arrived on set and saw Namjoon’s hairstyle, she paused.

“No.”

“No?” He looked at her, touching the braids coming out of the center of his head.

“Are they supposed to look like dreads?”

He blinked. “Huh, I guess they are. I hadn’t thought about that…”

She let out breath. “Look, I know rap’s really popular right now, and a lot of idols are trying to look like famous rappers, but, this…” She motioned at him. “…Is not cool. You’re not black. You can’t wear your hair like that.”

His brow furrowed. “I hear what you’re saying, and I can tell by the way you’re saying it that it’s important to you, and I trust your judgment, but… I don’t understand. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m not the one needs to be apologized to…” She took another couple of deep breaths. “Imagine if, after years of making fun of the way you dress and look, somebody suddenly decides that it’s cool when they do it.”

He tilted his head, and grimaced. “Ah, okay.”

“It’s… an oversimplification, but, that’s the gist of it.”

“Okay, so let’s talk to the stylist and get her to change it.”

Lee Eunjung, the head of the hairstylist team, had done Namjoon’s hair today. Eunjung was in her late thirties, so Aviva worried she would be set in her ways, but was relieved when Eunjung listened carefully to Aviva’s explanation and grimaced.

“I see what you’re getting at, and I’ll try to do better in the future, but unfortunately, it’s too late for this time.”

Aviva frowned. “…What do you mean it’s too late?”

“This hairstyle’s already been approved by Chief Kyungso,” Eunjung explained. “If I have to submit a new one, it’ll take some time.”

“And we don’t have this space booked for that long,” one of the crewman said behind them. “Today is our only day of filming.”

Namjoon looked at Aviva. “What do you want to do?”

She shook her head. “It’s your hair. You should make the choice.”

“…Let’s film the video,” he decided. “If I look back on it and regret it, that will be on me, but the boys have been working hard for this, I don’t want to take it away from them.”

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

OC Kiss Week Day 5: Memory

WIP: Thriving series Pairing: Warren x Thrive Timeline: Thriving: Meridian CW: Some, like, pain and stuff. Injury? Uh, if you don’t like reading about people in sustained physical pain, then don’t read this lol. Also, blood. Rating: T Words: 1,729

***

“How bad is it?”

Thrive tightened his fists over the surface of the table, jaw wrenched closed, and shook his head. After a few beats during which the veins in his arms became alarming in their prominence, he released the breath he’d held. “It’s not as bad...as it was the last time.”

Warren cast a worried search over the screen of the organic data extractor from his position in the corner of the room. “Yeah...I’m not sure that’s making me feel better about this.”

Thrive grimaced and a hand reached up as if to remove the electrodes attached to his skull, but instead he pressed his fingers to his temple. “It merely means that Ataneq and I will have to adjust the ratio of input and...and the output of...no.” His face went blank. “I can’t think.” He slammed his wrist on the table and threw his head back, letting fly a lengthy swear in Solnai at the top of his voice.

Warren, understanding how much agony one had to be in to use that particular swear, switched the machine off and jumped to his side, kneeling beside his chair. “Okay, sweetheart, okay. That’s good enough.” He whipped an absorbent cloth from his pocket and dabbed the moisture from Thrive’s forehead, turning his face toward him and registering the swelling relief through not just through their physical connection, but their mental one as well. “You’re doing great. Let’s take a break.”

“I’d rather not,” Thrive rasped. “We’re close. This is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“And I’d rather not watch you fry your beautiful brain to a crisp.” Warren dragged a second chair over and helped Thrive’s trembling hands hold the cloth to his neck and the rest of his face. “Also, this is very much not the most important thing you’ve ever done.”

Thrive grinned at him, as exhausted as he was in doing so. “Well...one could argue that you are the Most Important thing I’ve ever done.”

“If you don’t shut your fucking mouth,” Warren muttered playfully, beginning to take the electrodes off of Thrive’s chest.

Thrive grabbed his hand. “No. One more.”

“Hey, I meant it when I said I was gonna put a stop to this if you punched that damn self-destruction button of yours again.” Warren gripped Thrive’s hand. “This machine is in its infancy and could kill you if you don’t take a break.”

Instead of the belligerence Warren expected, Thrive turned to him with excitement in his eyes. “The solution is right here. We could be moments away from a breakthrough. The entire kingdom is as close to being able to harness th’crode technology as you and I are right this second, Warren. You will be able to store your own memories without my help.”

“Yeah, I kinda know all of that—”

“Do you understand how difficult it has been for me to watch you forget?”

Warren paused. The excitement had fallen away to reveal a deep sadness, remorse he hadn’t seen in quite some time. “...It’s gotten pretty bad.”

“Yes.” Thrive applied pressure onto the electrode Warren had started to remove. “Conversations with you about our shared past have become daily reminders of my misjudgment. My selfishness. You shouldn’t have to rely on someone else to make sure your cherished memories never die over time.”

Warren looked from him to the data extractor. “I still think you need to do this while natural....”

“The point is to test the extractor’s capability on a human subject.” Thrive straightened his spine. “Our physiology may be different in a lot of ways while I’m human, but I’m not about to test it on you in this stage of development. All it needs is recalibration. I’ve suggested putting the extraction points directly on the brain, but that idea was shot down rather quickly.”

“Thank you, Ataneq,” Warren grumbled.

"Let me do this one last time.” Thrive pointed to the machine. “One last time. If it doesn’t work, I will give up for the rest of the day.”

Warren sighed into his hands. “I can’t. I can’t inflict more of this pain onto you. It’s too much. No, I’m saying no. If you wanna torture yourself one more time, you need to get someone else in here to do it.”

Thrive’s eyebrow quirked.

Which is how, ten minutes later, Warren found himself standing next to Thoeala on the other side of the room while Ataneq calibrated the machine.

Warren turned a frown to Thoeala.

“Oh, you think I’m gonna say no?” Thoeala laughed. “You think just because he’s my dad I have an opinion about his well-being?”

“Why are you still here if you didn’t want to do this, Pop?” Ataneq asked, repositioning the electrodes on Thrive’s head.

Warren sniffed. “Because if this doesn’t kill him, I will.”

Ataneq took Warren’s previous spot behind the extractor. “Right. Counting down from five. Father, recall a memory. Let’s keep it simple.”

Thrive screwed his eyes shut and nodded, hands tightly clasped together. “Test designation eight-four-six-four,” he said for the audio/visual records. “Recalling a memory of my last audience with Delegate Sinkship.”

“Simple,” Warren corrected. “Not painful.”

Ataneq swiped a finger over the screen. “Long live the King. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

A high-pitched whine rose from the machine and Thrive placed his hands flat on the table. “Yes...immediate drop in physical discomfort from designation eight-four-six-three.” He inhaled slowly through his nose, then released through his mouth. “My sinus cavities are warm and there is a sharp sting behind the eyes.”

“Holding onto the memory?”

“Yes. Begin transference...now.”

Ataneq had only just done what he was told when Thrive let out an unusual sound. A guttural wail he tried to suppress, hanging his head, face contorting into a grimace. Thoeala bristled beside Warren and Ataneq narrowed his eyes.

“There’s now...” Thrive touched the center of his forehead, fingers shaking visibly, “...severe—severe pain. Frontal and...damn it....”

Warren’s guard raised. Any pain he deemed “severe” could have killed anyone else on the spot. “Thrive, shut it down.”

“How close are we,” Thrive asked through gritted teeth.

“I can’t actually tell. Everything’s going haywire,” Ataneq said. “Your receptors are being overloaded; you need to stop the transference or you’re going to go into self-preservation mode.”

As Thrive opened his eyes, a single rivulet of blood rolled down from his nose. “Hemorrhaging. Numbness in...in the hands.” He swiped the blood away with a thumb and winced again. “And I’m experiencing a burning sensation on the skin.”

“Fuck,” Warren spat. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this again!”

Ataneq held up a hand in Thoeala’s direction when she crossed over to Thrive. “Don’t touch him yet. I’ve stopped the extractor but he wasn’t able to cut off the transference. He’s got to come down gradually.”

Thrive’s eyelids drooped and he snapped upright in an attempt to stay present and focused. “I...I’m about to...fall into preservation state.”

“Genius.” Warren leaned over the table and gestured around his eyes to get Thrive to make eye contact. “I have been alive for four hundred years and you wanna know why I’m only now starting to get gray hair?”

Thrive carefully rested his head in his arms, tugging the electrodes’ wires to their limit. “I may have an idea....”

“Yeah, he’s out,” Ataneq said after a second of silence.

Thoeala sighed. “So he did that for no reason?”

“No, he succeeded.”

“Excuse me?” Warren glanced at him in alarm. “...You mean he actually managed to transfer a memory into the databank?”

Ataneq nodded. “It’s not very clear, but it’s there. I can just make out vague shapes moving across the screen. We can work with this.”

Warren walked around the table and kneeled beside Thrive, who didn’t appear to be breathing at all. He felt his neck for a pulse and was satisfied to catch the glacial thrum of his system working to mend his brain. “Babe....”

“Wow,” Thoeala exclaimed, peering at the screen of the extractor over Ataneq’s shoulder. “That is incredible! Yeah, I can see an outline of Sinkship!”

“Thrive,” Warren said, raking his fingers through Thrive’s hair. “You did it. We’ll celebrate when you’re awake.” He removed the electrodes and kissed Thrive’s temple, his ear, and the bit of cheek exposed to him. “You cause me enormous stress but you also never cease to make me proud.”

Thoeala and Ataneq each took turns patting Thrive on the back before leaving the room. “Give us a heads up on how he is.”

“Always,” Warren promised before settling down on the floor.

He was there for close to half a hour before Thrive sank back into consciousness, folding himself upright and wiping the rest of the blood from his nose.

“Welcome back,” Warren said.

Thrive turned, clearly not expecting to see him, grogginess still present in his face. “You waited.”

“Well, yeah...you pulled it off. I couldn’t just leave you here.”

Thrive patted himself down for the wireless electrodes that were used to monitor his physical response to the testing as Warren got up to perch himself on the table. “I'm surprised that it actually worked.”

Warren leaned over to capture him in a firm kiss. “I’m not.”

“I suppose I owe you an apology.” Thrive kissed him again. “I’ll take this as a sign to always do what you say from now on.”

“Oh,” Warren said with a sly smile. “Nice. I don’t even care that you’re making fun of me. I will take full advantage of this.”

“As I’ve no doubt.” Thrive offered him an only half-sarcastic smirk in return. “I believe you called, rightfully, for a celebration.”

“You heard that, huh?”

“I'm...in a word, spent. Would you like to stay the night at the Fertile Patch? We could set up a camp.”

“That sounds fantastic.”

Thrive kissed him one final time before they parted ways to prepare for the hour-long shuttle trip. Warren apprised the kids of Thrive’s state and while Thrive managed to stay awake on the ride over, as soon as his head hit the lush grass of the uninhabited area of wilderness he was down for the count again.

Warren watched the sunset by himself, using Thrive’s stomach as a pillow, lost in thought about the impact the day’s accomplishments would have on the neighboring galaxies.

He’d played a part in history yet again, it seemed.

[shannygoatgruff]

00:00:13

Genre: Social responsibility

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OC

Warning: Language, racial slur, prejudice, mention of the YouTube video

Rating: M+18

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

For: @xbellaxcarolinax​ - thanks for lending me an ear and encouraging me to continue writing this story

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on something I saw that evoked a feeling in me. I don’t know Alex or that guy in the video. I don’t own the rights to use him or anything else in my story. I’m just going off something out there on the internet that I wish wasn’t ever there for me to have to write a story about in the first place.

A/N:  So, I don’t know if this is the right time to post this story or not, but it’s been weighing heavily on my heart for some time now. During one of my many Alex rabbit hole stalking internet searches, I came across this YouTube video of him from a few YEARS ago that made me feel a certain kind of way.  Admittedly, I went through a ton of different emotions.  I made a bunch of excuses for him.  I tried to justify him being drunk, young, being from a different country...not understanding his actions.  As a black woman, I was saddened, and a little heartbroken, but I truly don’t think there was any malice behind it.  I think it was just poor judgment on his part. But, in the end, I came up with, he’s a grown man and as a public figure he needs to be more responsible.  

I am in no way trying to sway anyone’s opinion of him, turn you against him, make you seek the video out or anything else.  I just needed to speak MY truth and get my feelings out about the situation. I’ve been the black girl in too many interracial relationships and friendships with people that just don’t get it. I am in no way trying to offend anyone - these are just my feelings.  I just needed an avenue to speak out.  

Anyway, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, mainly because I was in my feelings, but I think it’s close enough.      

I’m still an Alex fan and he could get it, at ANY moment...just say the words, Boo!  😍

I invite your comments, thoughts, and feelings...if you just wanna talk, feel free to hit me up.  I’m always open to a good discussion.

With that, 

Be easy!

Thirteen seconds…Nia Howard could do a lot in 13 seconds.  For almost 10 minutes, she had been timing herself to see exactly what types of tasks she could perform in that amount of time.  

In 13 seconds Nia could lace her brand new blue and white checked Chuck Taylor Converse tennis shoe.  She was careful to lace the shoe so the strings were only threaded on the outside of the eye-loops, creating one thick solid line across the bridge, hiding the string feeding into the next eye-loop inside the shoe, just like she liked them. This was a trick she learned in Mrs. Hamilton’s 7th grade Math class, and she had been lacing her shoes that way ever since. 

13 seconds was all it took for her to guzzle 10 ounces of the Dasani water bottle sitting on her desk. She probably could have slammed more of the water down her throat, but she wasn’t that thirsty to begin with. Had she been parched, or had it been something that she wanted to drink, she was sure she could have gotten more than 10 ounces down in that amount of time. 

Nia also discovered that she could refill the liquid nicotine and change the filter in her vape, as long as everything was laid out in front of her, in 13 seconds. She was also able to screw the tank back together, but not put the tank back on the battery base before the timer went off.  That part still took her an additional 3 seconds.  Hmm. 

In 13 seconds, she was able to remove the back of the picture frame, take out the photo, and run her thumb over the glossy paper.  It took less than that amount of time for all of the emotions of the day to come flooding back to her as she stared at their first family photo. 

It had snowed at least a foot that day.  But there they were, outside sitting in all of that powder, freezing. Nia, her boyfriend, Alex, and their then 8-week-old Siberian husky, Vlad.  He thought it would be artistic.  She thought it would be cold.  Vlad thought it was fun, running around in snow deeper than he was tall.  But they were still smiling; they were happy.  They were in love.  

Alex was wearing his favorite navy blue The North Face snowsuit, that he had zipped up to his chin. You could only see the side of his pale face, with his cold red cheek, plump pink lips, and those dark lashes covering his incredible blue eyes.  The rest of him was so bundled up, he looked like the abominable snowman.  He loved the cold and the snow.  Growing up here, these snowy days in Denmark were nothing to him.  Nia, however, wasn’t quite as used to it.  It snowed on the East Coast of the US, but not like it did in Denmark.  Her pink and white snowsuit was more for fashion than warmth.  Sitting in the snow in between Alex’s legs, she was freezing and couldn’t wait for them to finish taking pictures.  

However, his arms were warm around her, and though his lips were cold against the side of her face, she could feel his warm breath tickle her ear as he laughed and told her how much he loved her.  She had leaned against his chest and noted how well her pink and white outfit matched his blue one.  Only her dark brown skin made a contrast against the snow and Alex’s complexion, but she still looked as if she belonged.  

She sat with her feet flat on the ground, knees drawn toward her chest bringing their brown and white puppy, the perfect mix between their two tones, closer to the two of them.  While her head leaned into Alex’s kiss, her eyes concentrated on little Vlad in her lap. She had him turned so the camera could capture his one blue eye and one brown eye, while she gently caressed their fur baby, drawing him in for a kiss on his soft, furry head.  

Could they be any cuter?  They were the perfect family.  They were a good looking couple with a good looking dog.  

Thinking about the day that photo was taken quickly made her mind drift back to the first time Alex told her he loved her. She could vividly remember how he grabbed her face and leaned in for that kiss.  The way he pressed his lips to hers, and how it set off every nerve in her body.  She remembered the way her heart fluttered and how she thought she was going to float right out of her skin. But when he pulled away and looked at her with those blue eyes, he grounded her and brought her right back to the spot where he was. When his eyes shifted between hers, desperately searching for some hint that she felt the same, she knew from that moment that he was the one for her.  That entire encounter, the weightlessness, grounding, feeling his eyes look through her and hearing his heart speak her name, couldn’t have taken more than 13 seconds. She was sure it happened all at the same time.

With everything she timed, 13 seconds seemed like it passed in the blink of an eye.  It was manageable if she had a task to complete, but by no means was it a significant amount of time.  So why did it feel like an eternity, each time she watched that damn video clip?  The more she watched it, the longer it became.  That damn 13-second video clip brought out of her a new set of emotions each time she viewed it.

At first, it was shocking.  She couldn’t register anything she saw because she was too surprised at what she saw. The only thing she could process was the feeling of, Huh? 

So, she watched it again, and this time she did so with a goofy smirk on her face. The smirk was the smirk of embarrassment. Embarrassment for her, for him, for them... for not knowing how to feel.  

She had to sit with it for a few minutes before she could watch it a third time. Instead of just jumping right into again, she decided to go back to the original email and reread the message.  She had been so put off by the video that she forgot what it was that she was being asked to do about it.

When she clicked back on the email from her office and skimmed the contents she could only shake her head. Did they actually expect her to handle this?   Really?  She was a publicist.  His publicist, but come on.  This was asking a bit much, no?  There were 14 other people in that damn firm that could have handled this, even if Alex was her client.  He was still a client of the fucking firm. What was she supposed to do?

Without thinking, she put her thumb to her mouth and started biting the cuticle around her new French manicure.  She had been doing so well with that, too. She only bit or picked at the cuticles on her nails when she was nervous or angry – that’s why she made sure to keep her nail appointments every two weeks. She didn’t want to have ugly cuticles on freshly designed nails.  Now she just wasted 264 DKK.

By the third time she watched the video, she went numb.  She couldn’t tell what she felt, all she knew was her mind wouldn’t let her feel anything.  A million different thoughts and emotions swirled around her, but none of them actually hit her, yet. The best way she could explain it was akin to having an out of body experience.  It felt like the glass desk she sitting at was getting further away from her while her laptop screen continued to get smaller.  She started to see the room she sat in as a person watching this scenario from somewhere else, and as long as she wasn’t directly connected to it, she could continue to disassociate with it. Instead, she could only sit there, with her mouth open, staring blankly at this distant laptop screen, unable to process what the fuck she just saw.  

There were no words. No thoughts.  There was nothing.  Only the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and the sound of her heart breaking in a million pieces, as 13 seconds altered the course of her world.  

Ten minutes had to have passed before Nia clicked the replay button on the YouTube video to watch the clip for the fourth time.  She was in a better place now.  She had gotten up, got a drink of water. Practiced a bunch of things she could do in 13 seconds.  She had refocused.  She could watch it now and deal with it with a clear head. She wasn’t sure how many times she had watched it before – it hadn’t registered. She was still in shock from that initial viewing. But, she needed to watch it again because she had to dissect it.  

Placing her chin in her hand, she didn’t give a fuck if she was transferring her Mahogany Shape Tape foundation and Cocoa Bean Black Radiance pressed powder on her palm.  Fuck the papers that were going to be stained from the makeup transfer.  That was a gripe for another day - black women that wore makeup always had issues with the transfer.  It was the plight of the beauty revolution.  She’d fight that battle another day.  Right now, there more important things to deal with. 

Where the hell were her earphones?  She needed to have the audio go directly into her ears.  There was no time to have the sound filter throughout the loft’s office and possibly get distorted. She needed every word to go directly from the computer, in her ear, and into her brain for immediate translation. Maybe she missed something. Maybe she misinterpreted it. Yea…that was it.  This was on her. It had to be, right?

Plugging in her Beats headphones, she placed them on her ears and turned up the volume on her laptop.  She took in a deep shaky breath and hit the replay button for the fourth time. 

Nope, she hadn’t imagined it.  It was still the same.  He was still having fun, hanging out with those same stupid fucking people.  He was still talking in that same drunken tone.  He still thought everything was so fucking funny and laughed at every fucking thing.  

Why did he do that laugh?  It was laugh he used when he was really tickled.  The one that he accompanied by clapping his hands because he was genuinely amused. It was that laugh that she loved the most.  It was that laugh that made her laugh too, usually.  It was that laugh that brought tears to her eyes.  

What the fuck was he thinking? When was he going to learn? There were so many of these kinds of questions she wanted to ask, but did it matter? Did he ever really have to answer them?  It was always going to be different for him for so many reasons. The question was, did she want to stick it out and deal with it?  

This wasn’t the first time he had done something so irresponsible, so insensitive. She knew it wouldn’t be his last.  The problem was, he never seemed to understand why it was a problem.  Quite frankly, she tired of trying to be his teacher.

Just as she sat the headphones back on the desk, she heard the key in the front door lock.  She didn’t want to deal with him right now. She needed more time to digest everything before she talked to him, otherwise, this wasn’t going to be a productive conversation. 

Nia was not the type of person that liked to argue, let alone, have a conversation when she was angry.  Her words were always carefully weighed, and she very rarely said anything out of anger. Hurting someone’s feelings, being misunderstood, and saying something that she would later regret were things that she tried to avoid.  It wasn’t that she was non-confrontational, she was just reserved, that way.  She didn’t grow up in a house where people yelled or used words to hurt each other.  She didn’t believe in doing that, and she wasn’t going to bring that into her relationship, no matter how passionate Alex could get about a situation.  But the way she was feeling right now, all bets were off.  

“Hallo, Vlad.  Have you been a good boy?” She heard his voice from the hallway rise an entire octave as he addressed their 10-month-old Siberian husky.  She could tell by the way Vlad whined and his paws scratched against the hardwood floors that he was jumping on up Alex.  All of that money they were spending on dog training and Alex was still letting Vlad jump on him. Nia shook her head in irritation.  “I missed you, too, boy.  Where’s Mama, huh?” 

Nia remained frozen to the spot.  She did manage to reach for her vape, on her desk, and noticed how the muscles in her neck and shoulders shook with tension.  Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to unclench her jaw.  She just needed a few more minutes to herself.  If he could just go upstairs, or in another room and leave her alone, she would be able to talk to him about this later. But, knowing him, that wouldn’t happen. 

He would keep pushing and pushing until he found out what was wrong with her and before she knew it they would be in a fight.  A fight that she would be actively participating in.  

“Babe?” He called out, making his way across their loft.  His voice getting closer to her office door. “Hey, babe,” he awkwardly raised his hand in greeting, to accompany his words, followed by his thousand-watt smile. “I got us cheesecake from a new bakery.  Casper speaks highly of them.”

Nia looked at her boyfriend and she could feel the hot sting of tears forming at the back of her eyes. Immediately, she dropped her gaze, not wanting to address him or the situation at the moment.  She managed to nod slowly as she continued to work her now jagged cuticle.

To the rest of the world, Alex Høgh Andersen was the model, actor, and photographer that walked on water, ate bullets, and shit ice cream.  He was the sexy heartthrob that had over a million Instagram followers.  The guy that couldn’t post a picture of taking out the trash without it being sent over 5 continents and 35 countries in a matter of minutes.  He had over 2,000 fan sites, and countless fan fictions written about him…fans adored him the world over and he was only 25. He was fucking perfect.  

To Nia, he was just her Alex.  Her clumsy, silly boyfriend, who never put his clothes in the hamper and always left the toilet seat up.  He was the guy that loved to cook but never cleaned the dishes.  He was the one that was always singing or beat-boxing or banging on something trying to make music.  He was always tried to make people laugh.  He was loud, goofy, and drank too much. He smelled awful after a workout and had the messiest bed head when he let his hair grow.  He sometimes smacked when he chewed and always talked with his mouth full.  He was a clown, but he meant well.  He was sweet, and thoughtful and always treated her like she was the most important woman in the world.  

Nia never had one reason not to trust him...until now.

“Baby,” he took in the expression on her face and rounded the glass desk to where she was sitting.  Kneeling in front of her seat, he turned her swivel chair to face him and took her hands in his, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She raised her eyes wide and looked at a place on the bookshelf, right over his left ear. Refusing to look into those beautiful blue eyes of his and lose her train of thought.  She felt the sweat start at her top lip, something that always happened right before she was about to cry, but she fought the urge.  

“Alex,” she tried to keep her voice steady, but she was pumped full of adrenaline and emotion so it shook involuntarily, “what the fuck?” She pulled her hand from him and turned her laptop toward him.  Hitting the play button on the YouTube video again, she played the 13-second clip for him.  

Alex watched himself, drunk as hell, outside of a night club in Ireland with friends.  He asked his friend to do part of a skit from one of his favorite comedians.  He knew exactly what was on this clip.  He’d seen it, and still thought it was funny. “What’s wrong?”

Nia didn’t say anything, she just let the clip play.  Alex’s friend, Danny, this clout chasing, promoter fuck stood in the shot with him.  Out of Alex’s mouth came the line from Kevin Hart’s Seriously Funny Comedy routine, “Go night, night, nigga?”

He had said it low as if he was talking to Danny, asking him to perform the line from the stand-up.  So what does the little hanger on do?  Danny, who is black, does a really bad, really loud Kevin Hart impression for Alex and the camera, “Go night, night, Nigga!”  

Alex then comes back in the scene and repeats it and they all laugh because it’s so damn funny.  Alex disappears from the screen because he’s laughing so hard, but Danny is still there, shit-talking about having a big dick.  When Alex returns, the two of them end the video with a rousing chorus of “Alright, alright, alright…”  

She didn’t say anything to him, she just looked.  She searched his face for some sort of understanding, some kind of recognition. Something.  But when he turned back to face her and all she saw was confusion she felt her shoulders drop and the first fat tear roll down her face. “Wow.”

“Honey,” he lifted a brow, not quite sure what his crime was.  He knew she didn’t like Danny, but he hadn’t even seen him since he was in Ireland last.  It had to have been a few months. “This was months ago,” he reassured her, with his Danish accent punctuating his English words, “I know you think I drink too much and you don’t like to see me drunk.  It’s no good when it goes viral.  But, we were just fooling around.  It’s nothing to cry about.”  He cupped her cheek in his hand, hand brushed away her tear with his thumb.  His blue eyes moved swiftly between her brown orbs.  “Where did you even find this?”

“Your fucking manager sent it to me, Alex.  They want me to fix this shit.  I’m supposed to make all of this go away.  Me...your fucking black girlfriend - I have to make this racist bullshit you pulled go away.”  She should smack him.  She should.  It would be justified, right? “How in the fuck am I supposed to do that when you think being drunk was the fucking problem with this video?”    

“I’m not a racist,” he said with genuine shock, “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.” She got up from her chair, suddenly needing to distance herself from him.  “Why do I always have to be the one to educate you?  You are a grown man.  I shouldn’t have to explain this shit!  You DON’T get to say that word, Alex.  EVER.” She pointed a well-manicured finger in his direction, “It’s hurtful.  It’s hateful.  It’s ignorant.  And coming from YOU, it’s fucking devastating.” 

He was confused. What was she so upset about?  What exactly had he done wrong?  Turning around in his place, he slowly stood up and leaned against the desk.  Legs outstretched, arms folded across his chest in a defensive position he could tell that his girlfriend of three years was upset. Not just the regular run of the mill upset, either.  Something he had done had really bothered her.  

“Nia,” he breathed her name with a smirk on his face, “I think you’re making way bigger a deal of this than it is.  Danny was there, he didn’t care.  If I had said something bad, he would have told me.”  He pleaded with his face for her to trust him on this, it was all a misunderstanding.  “We were just joking. Besides, I didn’t say the bad word – the one with the other ending.  I changed it. We were just doing the part from the Kevin Hart comedy.” 

“Alex,” she straightened her posture and spoke very clearly so that he could understand her.  There was something in the way that he was dismissing what she had said to him that was really rubbing her the wrong fucking way, “You are not Kevin Hart.”  She did not crack a smile when he did.  She kept her face stoic and refused to drop his gaze.  “You are not black.  YOU don’t get to use that word, or any variation, thereof.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex relaxed his posture and lifted his face toward the ceiling. Is this what he came home for?  He could have still been hanging out with his friends for all this.  At least they wanted to have fun tonight.  It was a Friday for crying out loud, was this how they were going to start their weekend?  It was the first one in months that neither of them had to work.  They had been planning this weekend for forever, it seemed. They were supposed to be Netflix & chilling, drinking wine, having breakfast in bed…nowhere in their itinerary were they supposed to be fighting over a stupid joke.  

Alex’s hand covered most of his face, as he rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to argue.  He wanted to change out of his hoodie and jeans, and get into some comfortable sweats.  He wanted to feed Vlad and cook dinner with her.  He wanted to eat in front of the TV while they caught up on this season of How to Get Away with Murder, which they promised each other not to watch until they were together.  “Jesus, Nia, why do you always blow things out of proportion?”

“Why do I.. I’m sorry?  Do I always blow things out of proportion?  Really?” She looked around the room as if he were talking to someone else, “Are you fucking shitting me, right now? Blowing shit out of proportion?  Why do you always have to be such an insensitive prick?”  She watched as he threw up his hands and walked out of the room mumbling under his breath.  “Yeah, say that shit in English, Alex, since you have such a grasp of the fucking language.” 

God, she was doing it.  She was doing everything that she never wanted to do when she argued.  She was speaking out of anger.  She losing the point.  She didn’t have one anymore, she was just mad. “Really…I don’t know who the fuck you think you playing with, but I am not the one.”  

Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch, Alex turned around to face his girlfriend.  He paid particular attention to the way her chest rose and fell when she was heated like this. He had always thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but now her anger didn’t match her beauty. “I don’t know what your problem is, Nia, or what you think I did, but I told you, it was a joke.  All of this, it’s not fair to take it out on me.  You owe me an apology for starting on me for no reason when I just walked in the house.”  

He flopped down on the couch and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He could feel a headache beginning right between his eyes and he knew it was from tension. 

“What part of this don’t you understand?  You offended me. You offended black and brown people all over the fucking world, thanks to YouTube.  I don’t have to apologize for shit.  You and your little fucking troll friend need to be apologizing!” She started walking around in a circle, she felt just that crazy at the moment. 

Nia looked over at the corner to Vlad.  His blue eye and brown eye lowered to the floor in sadness, as his parent argued. Her heart broke for their baby, but it couldn’t be helped. “Obviously your manager thinks this is a big fucking deal if they sent this shit to be fixed.  Alex, you can’t go around offending people.  You are in the public eye, whether you want to be or not. You have fans that are from every walk of life - do you know how many of them you just insulted? You need to be more responsible for your actions and the shit that comes out of your mouth.”  

“Nia, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.  I hear that word a hundred times a day. It’s not a problem.  It’s in every song. It’s on American TV…Danny and your brother-in-law call me that all the time.  I’m not a racist.  I’m in love with a black woman.”  He found himself raising his voice because no matter what he was saying, she didn’t seem like she was understanding, “One time,” he held his finger up to emphasize his point, “I do a part from a comedy that I like, with my black friend, and you lose your damn mind.”  

“What the fuck, yo?” Was she going crazy? She tried to inhale clean air, and exhale the poison before she spoke, however, it wasn’t helping.  All she could do was rub her temples. “Danish, American...it doesn’t fucking matter does it?”

“What doesn’t?”   

“Your privilege?” She rubbed her temples slowly and tried to crack her neck. “I’m gonna say this real slow so you can translate it into whatever the fuck language you need to understand it.  I don’t care how much trap music you listen to. You don’t get to say that word. I don’t care if you know the words to every Kendrick Lamar song.  You don’t get to say that word.  I don’t care how many black friends you have. You don’t say that word.  I don’t care what my brother-in-law calls you, or me, or the man in the moon.  You don’t say that word.”  

She got closer to the couch and bend down so that he could hear her.  Barely opening her teeth to speak, she made her point crystal clear, “And I certainly don’t care if you are fucking me or a 100 other black girls, it doesn’t make you black.  You still don’t get to say that word!”

“Oh my God, Nia! It’s a fucking word.”

Was she talking to herself?  Was he that clueless?  Where there no words in Danish that meant anything like it?  They had racism all over the world, surely there was a word in his language that used to oppress another culture to the effect that that word had been used to tear down black people, but black Americans especially.  Nia didn’t know what it meant to other black people, she could only tell him what it meant to her.  

“Do you know what’s like to have no identity, Alex?  Do you know what it’s like to still be referred to as the term they used when they listed you in catalogs to be bought and sold like an animal?  It was no different than saying the word ‘cow’ – it was a word to describe cattle. That’s what an entire country thought of people that look like me.  For no other reason than the color of my skin.”  She couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.  She was so beyond mad that her voice was eerily quiet.  “Those people didn’t do anything to deserve it.  They were just born next to the equator.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

“That word stripped men of their role in the family and made some impotent and others were turned into bucks that were only good for breeding…it broke them. It made women broodmares, whose job was to have babies to keep plantations going.  Families were sold apart no different than how Vlad was taken from his mother because he’s a dog.” She pointed to their puppy hoping that he would understand, “They thought it was okay to do that to my ancestors because of that word. Alex, I don’t care how much you hear that word. When you say it, that’s what it feels like to me. That I don’t exist.  That Nia doesn’t exist. That I’m no different than Vlad. But, here’s the rub - in all the time we’ve had him I have never once heard you refer to him as a dog.  But now you used the word nigga, and you think it’s funny.  So, I have to wonder now, how do you describe me?”

He was dumbstruck. 

He didn’t mean any of that when he said it.  It was a joke.  It was an homage to Kevin Hart.  It was fucking funny.  He understood that she was hurt, but he didn’t quite get why she was hurting. “I see that this hurt you. I’m sorry about that.  It was not my intention.”  He reached out to touch her and retrieved his hand when she pulled away, “If it was wrong, why didn’t Danny correct me?”

“That little fucker?” God, she hated him.  “Because he set your ass up and you’re too fucking stupid to know it.”  She didn’t mean that.  She didn’t want to hurt him just because he had hurt her.  But she was tired of telling him the same thing over and over again. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that little bastard is not your friend?  Do you remember how we met?  The drunken video he posted of you doing the Haka dance that ended up all over the internet? Do you remember how I had to spin that shit to save your career?”  She rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch. “Whenever you pop a bottle, that little clout chaser is always right there with a fucking camera.”  

“He’s not like that, he’s my friend.”

“He set your ass up! It’s a game, Alex!  Black guys play it all the time.  See if you can make your white friend say the word. Only, I’m surprised he didn’t punch you in the mouth afterward.  Cause that’s what they’d’ve done in the States.  But maybe things worked differently in Ireland.”  

“Whatever,” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Alex resigned.  

“Right. Whatever.” Walking back into her office, she slammed the lid closed on her laptop before throwing it and a few files into her work bag. “Un-fuckin-believable.”  She left out of the office and sat her bag on the floor by the door before she walked across the hardwood floors towards the stairs. “Move, Vlad,” she said lovingly rubbing her big four-legged baby on the head.  

Vlad made no intention of moving as if he was purposely trying to stop her from ascending the stairs.  Instead, the dog looked at her, then back at Alex, before turning his gaze back at her. “Vladimir, honey, I need you to move.” She watched as her 50-pound defiant child laid on the bottom step and put his brown and white head on his paws. “Fine,” she said, skipping a step to climb over him and made her way up the rest of the stairs, rolling her eyes when the dog followed behind her.

Alex followed behind them and stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching as grabbed a handful of items; a t-shirt, toothbrush, and hair scarf. This entire argument had been blown way out of proportion. Now she was leaving?  “Baby, where you going?”

“Away from you.”

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