#wanna take a big chomp out of her tail

[vantabats]

✨🍓🍰🍓✨

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

rabbit costume + luxe couture miss raven

Because I love the Alice in Wonderland aesthetic and White Rabbit Fest is running in EN right now… 😭 I decided to make a Rabbit Costume for my OC! Figured I’d also do the same for the event running in JP at the same time, Tapis Rouge in the Shaftlands.

Special thanks goes to @peripheralsanity for the super adorable bonus drawing of Miss Raven in her Rabbit Costume 😭 I wanna cram that bunny into my mouth like an Easter marshmallow…

My own doodles are below the cut, along with various design notes 📝

First up, the Rabbit Costume!

It takes a lot of inspiration from Alice herself: the bow in her hair, the dress, the apron. Miss Raven’s Heartslabyul dorm uniform design also pulls inspiration from Alice, so I tried very hard to make this look unique from that!

There’s a lot more bows, frills, and huge, goofy-looking accessories—like the rabbit ears + tail plus the shoes. The outfit also features a lot of pastel checkerboard pattern and shimmery makeup, like what is featured in Deuce’s Rabbit Costume. Upon closer inspection, there’s even more intricacies! Raven’s apron has heart-shaped pockets, the apron’s top has card motifs stitched into it, and the corset belt has a rabbit slowly dressing and then taking up a bugle to play. The transition demonstrates her own adaption to living among non-animals 😅

The rabbit on her skirt, chain, prize ribbon, and earring aren’t the White Rabbit but a cobbled together rabbit that’s missing an eye. The XO Rabbit poses as and stillinvokes the image of the White Rabbit, especially when it’s right next to a pocket watch. It fits Raven, who is someone not “organically” in the world of TWST (since she’s an OC).

I think my favorite part of this design is the super wacky and big hair. You may recognize it from the Hatsune Miku x Cinnamoroll campaign that was popular a while back. The shape reminded me of bunny ears, so I thought it would be nice to incorporate into Raven’s Rabbit Costume.

There’s so many strange things in clock town to observe! Miss Raven would have a fun time hopping around and seeing the sights… documenting them with Ortho, picking out clocks and other souvenirs with Silver, chomping through the local specialties with Epel. Ah, and as for Deuce 🤔 “Your son is trying very hard in his studies, ma’am,” she’d tell Dylla very seriously. “I commend him for his efforts.” (She very tactfully focuses on his improvements and personal growth over the actual numbers he produces.) Students of 1-A gotta look out for each other, right? Deuce fist bumps her behind her back or something to signal his thanks.

Miss Raven isn’t the athletic type, so I don’t think she would run in the relay race with them. (It would be hard to run in that dress anyway.) She can stick on the sidelines and cheer for them…!

Next is the Luxe Couture!

I actually made two variants. One is more inspired by the Fairest Queen’s raven and the other is similar to the SR and R boys’ huntsman-inspired designs.

The first has more of an old-fashioned movie star feel to it… which isn’t really what Vil invited the other students for so it falls outside of canon 😂 I just thought it would be cool to have a more personalized, glamorous fit for Raven.

She has much darker and more excessive eye makeup in this version. A bold, more confident look outside of her usual wheelhouse. Her hair is also curled into her face to resemble feathers, and her bun also has strands spiked up to look like feathers too. The dress itself is also very feathery, forming a train behind her wherever she stomps in her heels. The top of the dress also acts as a feather boa, making her appear larger and more intimidating than she actually is.

If you’re wondering why tiny skull earrings, it’s because the Evil Queen’s raven falls into a skull at one point in the movie 💀 since it’s so taken aback by what it is witnessing… That “wow!” but also somewhat scared feeling is very similar to how Raven feels entering Fairest City, so I wanted to include a skull in some way. If I made the motif too big or too obvious, then it might clash with the whole ensemble so I chose to go with an understated accessory instead.

This look is definitely the most “different” of the group, but I tried to keep some elements in common with the others. For example, Raven still has the lace curtain which appears from where her dress is slit. She also has sheer gloves that have been studded with little white rhinestones. The jewels aren’t as big or colorful as Vil’s, but that’s the point: to not outshine the star. Miss Raven is nothing more than the shadow that clings to its queen 😌

The more group-cohesive outfit is last!

It’s a similar double-breasted beige coat as Jamil’s, but it fans out into a dress + slacks at the bottom and has different sleeves. The puffiness of the sleeves at the shoulder and wrists make her seem large and in-charge! The buttons on her coat are large pearls.

I tried to maintain the huntsman’s color scheme throughout the outfit. Because of this, Raven’s belt is red and the lace in her dress is green. Her boots are similar to hiking boots (just picture them fancier in your head OTL I’m not great at drawing footwear).

We get her forehead in this design!! Her hair is pulled back into a “fancier than usual” ponytail, with her hair bunched into one loop before resuming as a normal ponytail. The clasp she uses is similar to the one Vil wears in his school uniform. Originally, I thought of just shoving an arrow through instead but decided against it since it makes the huntsman theme too obvious. The same reasoning came up when I considered giving Raven a small cocktail hat that looks similar to what the huntsman wore. Her head just looks so naked without something there 😂 but in the end I managed to refrain, and I think that helped the outfit look more clean and elegant.

Raven would be excited to visit Fairest City—it’s the capital of the entertainment industry! Though her main medium is quite different than that of films, she’s always wanted to visit for educational purposes. (Maybe she can learn from the scriptwriters there!) “At least one of you cares to learn,” Vil would tut. The trip’s a little stressful, trapped between Jamil and Azul’s petty remarks at one another and Ace teasing her for being the “odd one out” of the group—but hey, it’s all worth it for the experiences made there! I’d imagine that Raven loves all the pampering they get and all the important people they meet, it makes her feel like a real princess. Everywhere she looks, the streets and stores are shining too! Her raven blood is soaring. “I didn’t realize you had such excitable juniors, Vil,” Eric would chuckle. (“Waaaah, so cool! Like a prince!!” Raven would gush, earning eye rolls from her classmates and a groan from Ace.)

Walking on the red carpet wouldn’t interest her that much; she doesn’t like the attention so she tries hard to just fade behind the others and play support as best she can. Carrying Vil’s things or helping him with his makeup is no problem, just don’t thrust her under the spotlight and all the flashing cameras!

[brandyllyn]

Jurassic Frontier: Part 8

Life finds a way.

A Triple Frontier AU.

🦖🦕🦖🦕🦖🦕🦖🚁

Summary: Pope convinces the Triple Frontier boys to take a quick job with a big pay off. No worries. Just an abandoned island with genetic shit to take.

THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER.

Warnings: language, dinosaur related violence, Tom.

Cowritten by @blueeyesatnight and @brandyllyn Blue’s series master and mine.

Isla Nubar, 120 miles west of Costa Rica

They run for the dock, the tall grass behind them, only to find that the dock has collapsed

Collapsed...with teeth marks.

They were panting, it had been a second since many of them had run quite like that, and then Santiago looked over to Frankie, "Wait, do you have the cases?"

"Uh no, I had the gun."

"Then where are the--" Santi starts to ask.

Frankie could not believe it, "THERE WERE FUCKING RAPTORS."

Benny, a giant golden retriever, "I punched one"

Will pinches the bridge of his nose but he, also, had prioritized the shooting of the raptors, and sighed, “Do you...wanna go back?”

After a moment of quiet Santiago points, “Boat’s out there.”

They all seemed relieved.

Will shrugs to Frankie, “Looks… seaworthy.”

“Looks like it’s floating but we could get out there and the engine could be fucked.”

“On a scale of broken boat to raptors how are you feeling?”

Frankie nodded, “Boat.”

Benny, still amped up on punching a raptor, is practically singing, “Well, whatever there’s not like water dinosaurs, right?”

Will freezes just as he is about to step into the water.

Santiago and Frankie notice and Frankie pulls Ben back before he can wade in, “Right Ironhead?”

“Uh... I mean. I didn’t recognize any plesiosaurs in the embryo storage….”

But he was looking around. Frankie pushes, “But what? What’s the but?”

Will doesn’t answer.

He was staring at a fallen tree in the water.

Odd.

Didn’t seem to be many by the edge over here.

With… eyes.

And a burn scar.

“FUCK! GET BACK! BACK! OUT OF THE WATER!”

Emerging from the water is the same fuck that ate Tom.

“Shit.” Santiago mutters.

“Fucking...this was a terrible idea.” Frankie whispers.

“Which part?” Benny asks.

“ALL OF IT.”

Will groans, “We need to start running before it makes landfall.”

“Can’t it...not see us if we don’t move?” Benny asks.

“Nope. This one can see us anyway.” Will turns to start running and the boys make to follow him but in the grass line the raptors are approaching.

Fuck.

Collectively they turned to go towards the jungle that was maybe a mile off but….

STOMP STOMP STOMP….

ROOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR

A T-Rex bursts forth from the tree line and is gunning for the boys like they owe her money.

“SHIT!” Santiago is panicking, “What do we do?”

Will looks around at the Spinosaurus, the Raptors and the Rex and pulls all of the boys with him, “Charge for her feet and don’t get hit by the tail--- we are leading the others into her and then doubling back and making like hell for the boat!”

“What if there’s another one of those mohawk motherfuckers in the water?!”

“WE DIE! THIS IS ALL I GOT! LET’S GO!”

They follow Ironhead’s lead and as they do it is narrow: the two remaining raptors are snapping at Ben, understandably, until the Rex’s head comes down and chomps onto one. This not only annoyed the other raptor but the Spinosaurus decided that this was an easy meal and made to rip it off the Rex, which made the two big one square off with one another.

Benny notices a cage match when one is happening. He slows to a stop.

“Wait, who do you think will win?”

“BENNY! SWIM!” Will all but throws Ben in the water by his neck.

They scrambled to swim to the boat before the Spinosaurus took an interest in them.

As they get onto the deck of the abandoned boat Frankie goes to go assess the engine and the rest of them just turn and watch

It would have been cool as fuck if it wasn’t a little uncomfortably close.

The Spinosaurus and the T-Rex were trading blows and Benny even hooted, “That’s right Rexy baby show ‘em what you’ve got!”

Will smacks him and Benny says, “What? That other bitch ate Tom.”

“Just please be quiet.”

Benny looks annoyed and when Will goes to go check on Frankie he softly moans, “Oh baby, you so sexy when you slap like that! Get ‘em girl!”

Santi watches, bemused. “You know no one will believe you right?”

“Believe what?”

“That you knocked out a dinosaur.”

Benny freezes. Then he deflates a little. “Think the satellites got it?”

Santi shakes his head and Benny turns to the front of the boat.

“Hey guys we have to go back!”

“FUCK YOU!” Frankie shouts over the purr of the engine. “C’mon baby, you can get us back to land right? That’s a good girl. Be good for Frankie.”

“Does the sweet talking work?” Will asks.

“You wanna do this?” Frankie shoots back. He sets the course in and waits to be sure it’s all good. Just… back to land. That’s all he asks.

All four men stand at the back of the boat, watching the island recede behind them. They’re still close enough to see the fight, although it certainly looks like the spinosaurus has given up.

The T-rex roars.

“God you’re a sexy bitch,” Benny whispers.

A low squawking sound comes from behind them.

Santi turns around first, then looks at the others. “What are the chances that’s a veggiesaurus?”

“With our luck?” Will asks.

Frankie sighs.

Benny squares up.

“Someone get out their fucking camera.”

🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖

~Fin~

🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖

And we’re done! Thank you all so much for going on this crazy ride with Blue and I. When we started we figured we’d be the only two actually interested and the overwhelmingly joyful response has been amazing.

Love y’all.

🦖

@amneris21, @rosequartzwriting, @felteppsters, @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage, @voteforpedro09, @tenderwhat, @thirstworldproblemss, @ikinmahlen, @quietpainter, @dihra-vesa, @lawfulgranola, @hello-mooi, @grippleback-galaxy, @riddikulus-obsessions, , @seasonschange-butpeopledont, @felteppsters, @ew-erin, @cannedsoupsucks, @clearlybeffuddled, @fictionalbitch, @mindidjarin, @eri16, @chattychell, @petersunderoos96, @beautyagegoodnesssize, @recklessfangirl-blog, @elisabethbathgate, @alm0501, @sarahmilesbendrix, @ezrasbirdie, @elephants-are-a-thing, @codenamewife, @danniburgh, @mylittlesenaar, @missminkylove, @hopeamarsu , @allmahfeels , @pugrad2020 , @elegantduckturtle , @Glitterygothapricotoperator , @chickadee-djarin , @pintsizemama , @phoenixhalliwell , @lorecraft , @leannawithacapitala , @clumsy_stormtrooper , @rayslittlekitten , @a-bang-for-your-bucky , @the-feckless-wonder , @hdghty , @skvatnavle , @radiowallet , @itishda , @andyl394 , @words-way-of-life , @absurdthirst , @beskarprincessjenny , @amillcitygirl , @you-got-me-starry-eyed , @mandocrasis , @faithkeeper81 , @captain-of-the-forest , @prositute-robot-from-the-future, @demeterl , @kesskirata , @artemiseamoon , @Azibear , @sammysandy, @pancakefancake , @thirdtimesthecharm , @jupitersmoon167 , @raisuniverse , @levillama , @adriiibell, @chronnies , @Boliv-Jenta , @justanotherblonde23 , @jettia , @clydesducktape , @jefferson-in-the-tardis , @meanperegrine , @littlebopper96 , @prettylilhalforc , @practicalghost , @miraclesabound , @ladylothlorien , @luxmundee , @just-here-for-the-moment , @castiel-barnes , @flameo-h0tman , @mishasminion360 , @clearlybefuddled , @prostitute-robot-from-the-future , @shadowolf993 , @youngkenobilove​ , @polaroidpimp , @lil-frenchfri77

[theysayitscrazy]

Ok ok I got a new idea for you:

Brock taking Cerb or Pepper to a park and the dog running to the reader to get attention and that's how Brock and reader meet.

Dog Days of Summer

Brock Reynolds x Reader

Tag List: @bravo-four-seal-team @rebelwrites @heathermann200

Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my tag list when I post new stories.

You laugh as your golden retriever jumps from the car and beelines for the gate of the dog park. You just started stopping here on your way home from work, but it had quickly become Roxy’s favorite place after her doggy day care.

Now on Friday nights, it became your tradition. Pick Roxy up from doggy daycare, then head to the dog park. Afterwards, you hit your favorite take out restaurant that usually had something special for Roxy too.

Somehow this became your life, but you were new in town and didn’t know anyone.

So, you close the car door behind your pup and head over to the gate to let her in. Thankful that that park is empty as usual, and you can sit on bench and read a book while tossing a tennis ball to Rox.

You’ve settled on ‘your bench’ as you’ve dubbed it and toss the ball across the fenced in area and settle into your book. You’ve settled into a routine and don’t even realize when another dog brings you the tennis ball and drops it in your lap.

You just pick it up and toss it.

After the third time this happens, the dog doesn’t let go of the ball, instead it set its big old head down in your lap and nudges the book out of the way. “Oh hello,” you laugh and pet the dark haired Malinois that’s chomping on the tennis ball in your lap.

“Cerberus, no!” A dark-haired man yells from across the way. He had his phone against his ear, but quickly hangs up and walks over.

“I’m so sorry,” the man says as he gets closer. “Cerberus, come on buddy,” he tries to pull the dog away from you.

You laugh as Cerberus climbs up on the bench and tries to get in your lap.

“No!” the man shouts and pulls the large animal off you. “Come on buddy, we talked about this,” he murmurs when the dog is back on the ground at your feet.

“This a common occurrence?” you question, raising an eyebrow at man crouched before you.

He looks up startled and his hazel eyes are wide and beautiful. You have to hide your smirk. He looks so innocent. Black hair curls up under a black ball cap, a black scruffy beard, and tall lanky build, but you can see the lean muscles in his vein lined arms. He’s pretty fricken gorgeous, you think to yourself.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “My brother Sonny, he borrows Cerb sometimes to pick up chicks. Now I’m trying to break the habit,” he quickly explains, petting Cerberus.

You laugh and nod good naturedly. “Sounds like quite the character.”

He laughs and nods. “Sorry, I’m Brock,” he holds out a hand.

You shake it immediately and smile, “Y/N,” you answer as Roxy comes running over and slides right up to Cerberus, licking his face. “And that’s Roxy,” you laugh.

His laugh is easy and genuine as he reaches out and pets the goldens fur. “Well, aren’t you a pretty girl,” he compliments her. “Just like your mom,” he adds and glances at you.

You blush and bite your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” Brock says.

“Yeah, I just moved to town a couple months ago. We’ve started coming here pretty regularly lately. It’s on my way home from work and Roxy’s doggy daycare,” you tell him, not quite sure why your telling this total stranger the finer details of your routine, or admitted that you’re basically alone here every week.

“Yeah, I work just up the street,” he admits, “but my schedule is all over the place so I never know when we’re gonna get a chance to play.”

You smile at the way he’s crouched down before you, petting both dogs who seem infatuated with each other. “He usually like this?” you ask, motioning to Cerberus.

“Not really. He’s a work dog, not really able to socialize with other dogs too much, that’s why I bring him here,” Brock admits, standing from his crouch.

Once he’s out of the way, Roxy and Cerberus cozy up to each other, tails wagging and snouts nuzzling. “I think we have a problem,” Brock admits and takes a seat on the bench next to. “Sorry, you mind?” he asks, standing back up and motioning to the bench.

You giggle and nod. “Go head.”

~*~

You spend the next couple hours talking to Brock, learning about his job as a SEAL and you tell him about yours as a physical therapist.

Your dogs have snuggled in next to each other on the grass at your feet and dozed off with their heads tucked together. They’re too cute and look too comfortable to wake, so you let them doze and keep talking.

When it starts to get dark, you shiver and realize you’re still in short sleeves, and its actually quite dark already. “I uh should go,” you murmur, looking down at your pups, not really feeling like leaving yet. You’re having such a good time with Brock.

He seems to sense the shift in the evening and nods, glancing down at the pups too. You’re both quiet for a few moments before you both say at the same time, “You wanna get dinner?”

You look over at him and laugh and nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The pups jump excited and bark, ready to go.

“Oh, you two were play sleeping?” you ask as Roxy nuzzles your hand.

Brock chuckles next to you, “It worked, didn’t it?”

“You mean, your dog makin a move, so you could slide on in?” you question with a smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brock grins cheekily and shakes his head, the look of pure innocence.

“Uh huh,” you say, but agree to follow him to your favorite restaurant. They have a patio and are dog friendly.

“Looks like we made friends, Cerb,” Brock grins at his dog. “Good boy.”

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

I SAW DRAGON ANON REVERSE AU THING AND THOUGHT OF IT BUT WITH MORE ANGST. I WANNA SHARE IT.

imagine if transformed reader is like getting more and more restless, like when we see childe motioning something to us we just tilt our head confused or we aren't interested in it. we only recognize like aether(+ paimon), childe, zhongli and hardly the knights of favounious. and when someone we don't know approaches us we growl, a warning growl. zhongli and childe can also tell because of the form we don't recognize human things without difficulty.

let's say that due to this our form starts to get more scary looking or just more fierce. claws sharper but long, our claws clicking against wood or cement whenever we walk, fangs also sharper but stronger. and due to the chimera form let's say that if we have the serpent tail (wich includes the head) some people can see how out tail starts to hunt, like catch small animals or the other head starts shrieking or growling (depends on the animal). but this only happens when we're on our abyss form.

and one day zhongli and childe take us fishing, and while our dear spoiled and more human moth knows how to catch fish properly (zhongli taught him to use a fish net again because let's say moth got a cold the last time he went to the river) but we take our abyss form and then we just pounce on the water and grab fish with our mouths and eat it right on the place. once we're full we just get out of the water and shake to not be too wet and go to the deeper part of the forest.

moth goes to follow us and rumbles for us, but when we turn our pupils are like showing full abyss corruption and our heads (depending on which animal they come from) also start sniffing at moth and growling for some time while we get closer to him to examine. we growl for a moment when we feel zhongli's scent but then we stop because we can sense the abyss aura on him and we go back to our senses and look at moth and we just purr at him and lick him. if we didn't came back to our senses the reaction wouldn't be different, the same but with more tough love. like actually giving a hard but yet loving bite or pouncing on him immediately.

let's say also that moth boyfriend was confused by another abyss creature and some new guards started to chase him and try to hurt him. moth shrieks, yelps and wailes; we hear him (also everyone because moth was just running to the city to get to zhongli or us) and when we hear him scared we go full feral and when moth is in a dead end and kinda scared because he doesn't know how to fly and the rest of the millileth are having no luck on persuading the new guards to let moth alone. WE APPEAR OUT OF NOWHERE.

and we just go like *chomp* like and zhongli sees it all and is like "oh wow, some human basically disappeared. I HOPE IT WASN'T THE ABBYS CREATURE I RESCUED THAT ATE THE HUMAN" because we just pushed or yes ate, or just bite the guards. and we let like this chilling big roar and we calmly take childe with our mouth by his fluff (like when a lion carries her cub) and then we just start to fly/run towards the forest until we are in a cave or just in a zone close to the abyss. we see moth as out mate, our boyfriend and our feral side is like "must protect moth".

obviously some people are like in shock but others -with their lessons learned - are like they know we are restless but also we protect moth and zhongli. and the knights of favounious don't know what to do after this because they thought that we weren't going feral or more restless. but for the comfort we aren't in trouble but people do are more wary around us.

also to put more comfort but also kinda angst, since moth doesn't fly we just tend to climb trees so carefree-like and moth is like "🧍‍♀️🧎‍♀️" while looking at us from the floor because moth doesn't fly or just doesn't know how to be in the wild. so we just roar at him -more softly and less aggressive- to climb the tree but we loose our patience once in a while and we get down the tree and just grab moth by his fluff and we guide him to a mountain or a waterfall nearby and WE PUSH MOTH, because we want to see him try to use his wings or see if he really knows how to life in the wild. of course when moth gets scared or upset we go to grab him or keep him company but sometimes moth gets too scared or angry because he gets frustrated. and he just goes back to the cave to sleep the day away, we just whimper and follow him.

the next day moth wakes up with us basically SQUISHING HIM, like a clearly bigger abyss creature laying on top of moth while "snoring" (it's actually a VERY deep but profound rumble or growl) and just moving closer whenever moth tries to move because we're suffocating him, he's hungry, etc. because spoiled moth knows how to tick us off to get what he wants even tho we're in the forest.

I just imagine, like imagine reader going CHOMP to a guard and people are like "the woman was too stunned to peak" like "🧍‍♀️" but zhongli is like they were just protecting childe.

well anons it seems your wishes have been granted!!! i'm not the original creator of the AU, lovely 🐉 anon is the one who came up with it!! so usually i rely on them for more yummy brainrot about it but i will GLADLY accept it from other people as well because it's all DELICIOUS

yes,,,,, yes oh so much yes chomping someone to defend Childe YESSSSS. you're so on edge about being watched and kept mostly indoors that your moth boyfriend being threatened by some new guards just pushes you over completely- you literally RIP SOMEONE'S ARM OFF and shove Childe behind you, growling viciously at the guards if any of them comes close. someone runs to get Zhongli but you just scoop Childe up and run somewhere YOU think is safe

heh

heheh

i see your angst and comfort..... do you mind if i..... *sprinkles a bit more angst on there*

so think about this- moth Childe getting so frustrated and/or frightened that he darts back to the city to stay with Zhongli, leaving us behind crying out for him. he stays for a bit in the city but Zhongli is very firm about getting him to at least bring you back so you're not separated- Childe also misses you, regretting how he ran away so he goes back to look for you and apologize. but when he gets to wherever you took him to, you're gone, because Childe was really the only thing keeping you sane and in Teyvat. if he didn't want to be near you, maybe it was better for you to just go back to the Abyss so you wouldn't bother anyone,,,

[wiypt-writes]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

A Stark Spangled Forever One Shot: Capsicle

Summary- Rori and Jamie spark some memories of Tony, and Rori plays her dad, well and truly!

Warnings- Some language words!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Honey!” Steve called, shutting the door behind him. “I’m home!”

He tossed his keys into the dish on the sideboard in the hallway, smiling at the photo of Lucky that sat just behind it with their old dog’s collar looped over the frame. Kicking off his shoes he stowed them in the rack before he shrugged off his jacket. It wasn’t often he wore a suit to work but there’d been a faculty meeting today with a few of the Deans present so he’d thought it was appropriate. Katie had approved a great deal that morning too…

Speaking of which…

“Doll?” he called again as he headed towards the bottom of the stairs, dropping his jacket over the bannister.

“Hey Soldier!” she called back, “I’m just changing Harry…he decided to tip the entire contents of his dinner down him. Guess he doesn’t like sweet potato…”

“Don’t blame him.” Steve yelled back “It’s disgusting.”

“Oh hush…” she shouted back, as he gave a chuckle.

“DADDDYYYYY!” he heard a familiar call and a door flew open upstairs, Rori bounding down the steps to greet him already dressed in her pyjamas as it was almost 7.

“Hey Princess!” he smiled, catching her as she threw herself at him from 5 steps up. “Did you have a good day.”

“Yeah!” she grinned “We learnded about numbers and I did the alphabet, although one of the other girls was mean to me.”

“Mean to you?” Steve looked at her “How?”

“She said nasty things.” Rori looked down, fiddling with his tie.

“Oh baby…” he said, kissing her head. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“Can I have a Capsicle? I ate all my dinner…”

Steve sighed, “You mean posicle?”

“Emmy says they’re capsicles…” she shrugged.

Thanks Tony for that one…

Steve looked at Rori  for a moment as she turned her big green eyes on him and he gave another sigh and nodded.

“Whatever, sure, come on…”

Shifting so she was on his hip, he continued his way down the hall and popped his head into the den where Jamie and his friend Sebastian were sprawled on the sofa, playing a computer game. Stark was led at Jamie’s feet chewing some kind of squeaky toy, his bushy tail thumped lazily as he glanced up at Steve before resuming his eager chomping.

“Hey fellas.” he smiled.

“Hi Mr Rogers.” Sebastian looked at him smiling.

“Hey dad.” Jamie muttered, eyes not moving from the game.

“Just gonna get Rori a popsicle, you want one?”

“No thanks, mom said when you were home we could get pizza as it’s Friday and Seb is sleeping over…” Jamie said, before he yelled “Dude, you let him get away…”

“Sorry Jay…” Seb replied, his tongue poking out from his mouth as he tapped at the controller.

Steve watched the two 9 year olds for a second before his attention turned to the TV.

“What are you playing?” Steve frowned, watching as something exploded on the screen.

“Avengers Alien Invasion…” Jamie said, before he paused the game and looked up at his dad, grinning “Bet it’s not as fun as when it actually happened for real in New York…”

“Fun isn’t’ exactly the word I would…” Steve trailed off “Hang on, did you say Avengers…”

“Yeah!” Sebastian nodded, “It’s a computer game from like years ago. We found it in my brother’s room. Mrs Rogers said it would be ok…”

“So, like, it has the Avengers Characters in it?”

“Yup.” Jamie nodded.

Steve frowned further, before he grinned and looked at his son. “So which one are you?”

“Iron Man.” Jamie shot back

“Seriously?” Steve looked at him, his voice indignant.

“No offence, but in the game Uncle Nee’s powers are awesome.”

“I’m Captain America Mr Rogers….” Sebastian smiled at him “After Tony you have the most power.”

Steve stood there for a moment before he scoffed and shook his head “Whatever…”

He turned to leave the room, closing the door behind him as the sounds from the TV started again. Trying not to feel too offended at the fact his own son had chosen Tony over him on a damned computer game, he headed into the kitchen setting Rori down on the counter.

He opened the freezer, dug out a blue popsicle for her (her favoured colour, unlike her traitorous older brother) and handed it to her.

“So, wanna tell me what happened?” he asked, leaning on the breakfast bar, looking at her as she sat perched by the refrigerator opposite him.

“So we were doing the alphabet and some words…and I knew them all. But I was good daddy, I put my hand up and I didn’t shout out…but Ariana called me a smart ass…”

She’s not wrong. Steve bit back the retort as he looked at his daughter’s indignant face, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. “Well that’s not very nice.”

“No, I told her that.”

“I’m sure you did.” Steve continued to hold his face straight.

“I told her she shouldn’t say mean things to people as it can make them cry.”

“Did you cry?”

“No.” Rori said, sucking her popsicle. “I called her an idiot instead.”

“Well you kinda lost the moral high ground there.” Steve chuckled as Rori cocked her head.

“What’s a moral high ground?”

“Nothing, doesn’t matter.” He said, straightening up as Katie walked into the room, a clean Harry on her hips.

“Hey…” Steve smiled as he gave her a kiss “Hey buddy!”

Harry grinned and held his arms out so Steve could take him. He kissed his cheek before he looked at Katie “How you feeling?”

She dropped her hands to her bump and sighed “Tired…”

Steve gave her a sympathetic smile, at almost 20 weeks now this pregnancy was taking its toll a lot more than the other 3 had. And he knew she was trying to be brave about it, despite how exhausted and worried she was about it all.

“Oh Steve!” she let out an exasperated sigh and he looked at her, frowning, before he followed her gaze to where Rori was sat eating her popsicle.

“What?” he frowned.

“I told her she wasn’t allowed one as she hadn’t eaten her dinner!”

Steve looked at Katie, then to Rori who looked at him innocently.

“Seriously?”

Rori shrugged, absolutely no fucks given that she’d just been completely busted after telling a big, fat lie to her dad.

“Aurora!” Steve said, sternly “I don’t like being lied to, you know that!”

She turned her eyes to his and looked at him “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.” Katie narrowed her eyes at her. She walked to remove the popsicle from her and Rori yelled, jerking her hand away.

“It’s mine.”

“I don’t care!” Katie said sternly. “You do not tell lies, and you do not go behind my back to your dad.”

Rori glared at her, before she held her hand out sighing as Katie took the item off her.  Rori rolled her eyes and before Steve or Katie could stop her she hopped off the counter, the part of her that was half super-soldier making it easy as she landed with a thud on her feet.

“Go upstairs and clean your hands.” Katie looked at her. Rori’s hand fell to her hips, mimicking her mother’s stance and Steve hastily looked away, to avoid laughing at the look on her face. She was so like Katie it was untrue and for the third time in ten minutes Steve found himself thinking about his late brother-in-law, wondering how on EARTH Tony dealt with Katie when she was growing up.

“Whatever.” Rori said, and she turned with a flounce and left the room.

“Honey, I didn’t know.” Steve began to protest his innocence as Katie rolled her eyes, picking up the popsicle which had started to melt down her wrist.

“You’re such a sucker where she’s concerned, Steven.” she said, her voice was stern but her eyes told him a different story as they shone with good humour.

“Only because she’s so much like her momma.” Steve winked. “I believe I’m also a sucker where you’re concerned.”

Katie snorted before she glanced at the popsicle in her hand and shoved it in her mouth, eyeing Steve as she did so.

“Pretty sure it’s me who does the sucking Soldier.” she said, her mouth making a popping noise as she pulled the ice lolly from her mouth.

At her actions Steve felt a familiar stirring in his pants.

“Behave.” He narrowed his eyes at her, as she grinned and shrugged, before she too flounced from the room calling to the boys in the den about ordering pizza.

“Women.” Harry mumbled to his father, in a tone that sounded ridiculously like Bucky leaving Steve in absolutely no doubt where he had learned it from. Steve looked at him, before giving a snort.

“You’re not wrong pal,” he chuckled, “you’re not wrong…”

 **Original Posting**

[sorvete-de-pacoca]

lil mermaid au shlene for mermay

(there’s 6 days left of May and only now i provide mermay content that’s just how my brain works úwù. Anyway Mermaid au where Mylene is a cryptid hunter and Shadow is a mermaid who likes human stuff too much. Enjoy owo/)

“Are you really not even going to try to kill me?” 

“Is there anyone else besides you to feed me?”

“No.”

“Then nope.” Shadow continues to feed on his lobster. Mylene still inquires the white mermaid.

“Not even cry or scream for help? Or beg me to take you back to the sea?”

“Babe” he finishes chomping the last remains of his dinner and wipes his mouth with the scaled back of his hand “you have any idea when was the last time I had a good dinner? Something besides whale carcass and sardines? Just keep sending the grub and place a tv with cable and maybe video games and I can be the pretty tank decor that you want.” 

“First, call me ‘babe’ again and I will rip off your tail and use it to decorate my fireplace. Second, how come you act so...?”

“Human?” Shadow smiles, exposing rows of sharp teeth. “would ‘ya like to hear my full tragic backstory or the resume?”

“The resume, please.”

“Aight’ so. I was already someone’s ‘pet fish’. Then some naturalists came and saved me. Later they threw me into the ocean, where I almost died out of boredom and from shark attacks. And voilá! Here I am now!”

Mylene hums, now finally understanding her new trophy’s strange behaviour. He wasn’t a wild mermaid, just smart enough to make his capture an amusing challenge. Probably raised in captivity and later found by some cryptids protection NGO’s. Some idiots with good intentions had failed to understand that humanoid creatures such as mermaids, when  used to the modernities and facilities of a human society, would never survive in the wild. In some way, she was doing a favor by capturing him and keeping him in a tank large enough to store an Orca. Thus making her a ‘good guy’, she hadn’t decided yet if she was pleased with this or not.

“I see. Well, would you like to make a deal?” The mermaid raises a brow curious, she continues “I will provide all the comforts that you need and in exchange you act like a wild mermaid.”

“And how do I do that?”

“It’s very simple. Just growl, bare your teeth, something like that. Just act wild.”

Shadow snorts “I am domesticated but even I know that won’t fool anyone.”

“Trust me, the people I wanna impress are not very smart to know the difference.”

He scratches his nose while looking at some corner, thinking. Free food and housing in exchange for doing some tricks? Doesn’t sound very bad. Shadow offers her his hand for a shaking “Aight’ i’m in.”

Mylene grimaces at the wet hand covered in lobster oil. Oh well, a small price to pay for having her own mermaid pet. She squats and they shake hands sealing their deal.

“Name’s Shadow by the way.” he says.

“I know.” She takes her hand back and cleans it in the water.

“You do?”

“You had quite a reputation.”

“Nice.” he smirks mischievously. “I know who you’re too. Big scary hunter Mylene, gonna call you Lee for short ‘kay?” 

“As long as you do what I say you can call me anything.”

“Okay, babe.” With a quick arm impulse he backs away from the tank border and swims to the bottom. His cackle so loud Mylene could hear from the surface.

“I will pump so much chlorine into this tank you will turn transparent you shit!” She angrily shouts at the mermaid, who in return flips a clawed middle finger at her while showing his tongue from the bottom.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

One Shot- Capsicle

Summary- Rori and Jamie spark some memories of Tony, and Rori plays her dad, well and truly!

Warnings- Some language words!

This was inspired by a gif from the Latest DJ episode, it just SCREAMED  SSB Steve to me!

Hope you enjoy. 

“Honey!” Steve called, shutting the door behind him. “I’m home!”

He tossed his keys into the dish on the sideboard in the hallway, smiling at the photo of Lucky that sat just behind it with their old dog’s collar looped over the frame. Kicking off his shoes he stowed them in the rack before he shrugged off his jacket. It wasn’t often he wore a suit to work but there’d been a faculty meeting today with a few of the Deans present so he’d thought it was appropriate. Katie had approved a great deal that morning too...

Speaking of which…

“Doll?” he called again as he headed towards the bottom of the stairs, dropping his jacket over the bannister.

“Hey Soldier!” she called back, “I’m just changing Harry…he decided to tip the entire contents of his dinner down him. Guess he doesn’t like sweet potato…”

“Don’t blame him.” Steve yelled back “It’s disgusting.”

“Oh hush…” she shouted back, as he gave a chuckle.

“DADDDYYYYY!” he heard a familiar call and a door flew open upstairs, Rori bounding down the steps to greet him already dressed in her pyjamas as it was almost 7.

“Hey Princess!” he smiled, catching her as she threw herself at him from 5 steps up. “Did you have a good day.”

“Yeah!” she grinned “We learnded about numbers and I did the alphabet, although one of the other girls was mean to me.”

“Mean to you?” Steve looked at her “How?”

“She said nasty things.” Rori looked down, fiddling with his tie.

“Oh baby…” he said, kissing her head. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“Can I have a Capsicle? I ate all my dinner…”

Steve sighed, “You mean posicle?”

“Emmy says they’re capsicles…” she shrugged.

Thanks Tony for that one...

Steve looked at Rori  for a moment as she turned her big green eyes on him and he gave another sigh and nodded.

“Whatever, sure, come on…”

Shifting so she was on his hip, he continued his way down the hall and popped his head into the den where Jamie and his friend Sebastian were sprawled on the sofa, playing a computer game. Stark was led at Jamie’s feet chewing some kind of squeaky toy, his bushy tail thumped lazily as he glanced up at Steve before resuming his eager chomping.

“Hey fellas.” he smiled.

“Hi Mr Rogers.” Sebastian looked at him smiling.

“Hey dad.” Jamie muttered, eyes not moving from the game.

“Just gonna get Rori a popsicle, you want one?”

“No thanks, mom said when you were home we could get pizza as it’s Friday and Seb is sleeping over…” Jamie said, before he yelled “Dude, you let him get away…”

“Sorry Jay…” Seb replied, his tongue poking out from his mouth as he tapped at the controller.

Steve watched the two 9 year olds for a second before his attention turned to the TV.

“What are you playing?” Steve frowned, watching as something exploded on the screen.

“Avengers Alien Invasion…” Jamie said, before he paused the game and looked up at his dad, grinning “Bet it’s not as fun as when it actually happened for real in New York…”

“Fun isn’t’ exactly the word I would…” Steve trailed off “Hang on, did you say Avengers…”

“Yeah!” Sebastian nodded, “It’s a computer game from like years ago. We found it in my brother’s room. Mrs Rogers said it would be ok…”

“So, like, it has the Avengers Characters in it?”

“Yup.” Jamie nodded.

Steve frowned further, before he grinned and looked at his son. “So which one are you?”

“Iron Man.” Jamie shot back

“Seriously?” Steve looked at him, his voice indignant.

“No offence, but in the game Uncle Nee’s powers are awesome.”

“I’m Captain America Mr Rogers….” Sebastian smiled at him “After Tony you have the most power.”

Steve stood there for a moment before he scoffed and shook his head “Whatever…”

He turned to leave the room, closing the door behind him as the sounds from the TV started again. Trying not to feel too offended at the fact his own son had chosen Tony over him on a damned computer game, he headed into the kitchen setting Rori down on the counter.

He opened the freezer, dug out a blue popsicle for her (her favoured colour, unlike her traitorous older brother) and handed it to her.

“So, wanna tell me what happened?” he asked, leaning on the breakfast bar, looking at her as she sat perched by the refrigerator opposite him.

“So we were doing the alphabet and some words…and I knew them all. But I was good daddy, I put my hand up and I didn’t shout out…but Ariana called me a smart ass...”

She’s not wrong. Steve bit back the retort as he looked at his daughter’s indignant face, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. “Well that’s not very nice.”

“No, I told her that.”

“I’m sure you did.” he said.

“I told her she shouldn’t say mean things to people as it can make them cry.”

“Did you cry?”

“No.” Rori said, sucking her popsicle “I called her an idiot instead.”

“Well you kinda lost the moral high ground there…” Steve chuckled as Rori cocked her head.

“What’s a moral high ground?”

“Nothing, doesn’t matter…” he said, straightening up as Katie walked into the room, a clean Harry on her hips.

“Hey…” Steve smiled as he gave her a kiss “Hey buddy!”

Harry grinned and held his arms out so Steve could take him. He kissed his cheek before he looked at Katie “How you feeling?”

She dropped her hands to her bump and sighed “Tired…”

Steve gave her a sympathetic smile, at almost 20 weeks now this pregnancy was taking its toll a lot more than the other 3 had. And he knew she was trying to be brave about it, despite how exhausted and worried she was about it all.

“Oh Steve!” she let out an exasperated sigh and he looked at her, frowning, before he followed her gaze to where Rori was sat eating her popsicle.

“What?” he frowned.

“I told her she wasn’t allowed one as she hadn’t eaten her dinner!”

Steve looked at Katie, then to Rori who looked at him innocently.

“Seriously?”

Rori shrugged, absolutely no fucks given that she’d just been completely busted after telling a big, fat lie to her dad.

“Aurora!” Steve said, sternly “I don’t like being lied to, you know that!”

She turned her eyes to his and looked at him “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.” Katie narrowed her eyes at her. She walked to remove the popsicle from her and Rori yelled, jerking her hand away.

“It’s mine…”

“I don’t care!” Katie said sternly “You do not tell lies, and you do not go behind my back to your dad.”

Rori glared at her, before she held her hand out sighing as Katie took the item off her.  Rori rolled her eyes and before Steve or Katie could stop her she hopped off the counter, the part of her that was half super-soldier making it easy as she landed with a thud on her feet.

“Go upstairs and clean your hands.” Katie looked at her. Rori’s hand fell to her hips, mimicking her mother’s stance and Steve hastily looked away, to avoid laughing at the look on her face. She was so like Katie it was untrue and for the third time in 10 minutes Steve found himself thinking about his late brother-in-law, wondering how on EARTH Tony dealt with Katie when she was growing up.

“Whatever.” Rori said, and she turned with a flounce and left the room.

“Honey, I didn’t know…” Steve began to protest his innocence as Katie rolled her eyes, picking up the popsicle which had started to melt down her wrist.

“You’re such a sucker where she’s concerned Steven.” she said, her voice was stern but her eyes told him a different story as they shone with good humour.

“Only because she’s so much like her momma…” Steve winked. “I believe I’m also a sucker where you’re concerned.”

Katie snorted before she glanced at the popsicle in her hand and shoved it in her mouth, eyeing Steve as she did so.

“Pretty sure it’s me who does the sucking Soldier…” she said, her mouth making a popping noise as she pulled the ice lolly from her mouth.

At her actions Steve felt a familiar stirring in his pants.

“Behave.” he narrowed his eyes at her, as she grinned and shrugged, before she too flounced from the room calling to the boys in the den about ordering pizza.

“Women…” Harry mumbled to his father, in a tone that sounded ridiculously like Bucky leaving Steve in absolutely no doubt where he had learned it from. Steve looked at him, before giving a snort.

“You’re not wrong pal…” he chuckled, “You’re not wrong…”

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Nine

A/N: soooooo, last minute I decided to torture you guys:) I made the chapter into 2 parts, next part will be posted tomorrow night. I'm prepared to be cussed out in the comments 😤 love y'all tho

Also, I'm saving the picture for the next part because *cough cough* so I'm sorry if this appears a little naked.

Words: 2.6k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

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S e p t e m b e r 1 9 8 7

“Where are you--”

I’m shut up with the sound of Nikki slamming the door before I can finish asking him where he’s going, and I let out a heavy breath.

"--Going." I finish my question with a heavy sigh.

We’ve only been off the road for a couple days and tomorrow is our last day home, so we decided it’d just be easier for us to stay at the house instead of one of us sleeping elsewhere, but he’s been staying somewhere else every night we’ve been home...I don’t want to know who he’s been staying with or what they’ve been doing, so I haven’t bothered to ask.

I glance at the clock, seeing it’s 5:47pm, and go ahead and assume that since he’s been leaving the house around this time every day and hasn’t been coming back until the next morning, that he’s not coming home again until tomorrow.

Which means I’m by myself, being that Karen is on a small vacation ever since we’ve been home and she hasn’t been having to watch our house.

“Great.” I sarcastically mumble to myself, deciding to start on dinner, Whisky staying under my feet. "If Daddy isn't careful, I'm going to choke him with his own hair." I say to him and he looks up at me with a wagging tail and big smile. "Glad we can agree."

I get one pan out of the cabinet before I’m putting it on the counter, and sighing out.

“You know what? I don’t want to cook.” I state, putting the pan back, shutting the cabinet door, and stepping to the phone, dialing a number.

It rings a couple times before the line is picked up, and I smile at the voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Stevie, it’s Viv.” I tell him.

“Hey, babe, what's going on?" He asks me.

"I'm looking for Duff, do you know where he is?" 

"He's in the shower." He replies. "You want me to tell him you're on the line?"

"No, it's okay, just tell him to gimme a call ba--"

"--Duff, it's Viv!" I hear Steven scream and I cringe, pulling the phone away from my ear a little. 

I hear Duff's muffled reply, opening my mouth to tell Steven that I'll call back later, but I'm being cut off again. 

"I said, 'Viv's on the line'!" Steven yells again, hearing Duff respond. "He's coming." Steven assures me.

"Stevie, you could've waited until he was out of the shower." I comment. 

"Trust me, Viv, he would want me to interrupt him if it's for you." He states. "Ok, he's here, I love you, bye."

"Love you, bye." I reply. 

"Hey." Duff takes over.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted your bathing, I tried telling Stevie you could just call me back later." 

"No, no, Viv, you're fine." He assures me. 

"Oh."

"What's up?" He asks and I look around my kitchen.

"Um...I was just wondering if you're free tonight?"

The line is quiet for a second and I raise my brows, rubbing my lips together, waiting for him to say something. 

"...Hello?" 

"Oh, yeah, s-sorry, you wanna do something or something or--I mean, like you wanna hangout? B-Because I'm free, ya know. Yeah." He stutters out awkwardly and I hold back a laugh. 

"Smooth." I hear Steven comment in the background. 

"Dude, shh!" Duff replies in a whisper. "Um, anyway, yeah, I'm not busy."

"Okay, I was gonna order take out if that's okay with you?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me." He offers. 

"Okay." I reply. 

There's a long pause and the both of us finally try to talk at the same time:

"Alright, well--"

"Cool, so--"

We stop for a second, the two of us chuckling a little. 

"Sorry, you go." He tells me. 

"I was gonna say, 'I'll see you in a few minutes'." I say. 

"Good deal, I'll see you then." He agrees. 

"Okay."

"Okay."

Again, another awkward silence. 

"...Okay."

"Okay."

The phone is suddenly hanging up, the dial tone in my ear, and I quirk a brow, before putting the phone back on the hook. 

I wasn't sure why things were so freaking awkward with us, nothing had changed, nothing had happened. I hadn't seen him since the Playboy shoot a month and a half prior, so I didn't understand what exactly shifted.

I hear the doorbell ring and Whisky starts barking while I grab the Chinese takeout boxes and some silverware. 

"Whisky, who is it?" I ask him sweetly as I step to the door, opening it to see all six feet, four inches of Duff. 

He's in a CBGB t-shirt and black jeans, a bag of gummy worms and a six pack of Pepsi in hand. 

"Hi." He says, and I step aside and let him in as Whisky immediately starts sniffing at him, starting at his boot, up his leg, and I politely keep him from getting too personal as soon as his nose goes for his crotch. 

"Ohhhkay, Whisky, that's enough." I tell him, nudging him away from Duff as he hands me the Pepsi and candy, crouching down to pet him. 

"No, it's fine. He's just trying to know me." Duff chuckles, he and Whisky bonding the second his fingers move over the back of Whisky's ears, making him melt like butter in Duff's hands.

After a few minutes of me putting our food on plates and him going to wash his hands, we're finally eating in the living room floor, at the coffee table, with the dog eating his food several feet away, despite coming over to try to eat some of ours every now and then. 

"So, like, apparently Nikki's trying to get you guys a spot on the tour." I inform him and he raises his brows. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. Slash and Stevie have been conspiring and shared it with Nikki...and he loves you guys so he and Tommy and Vince and Mick are down for it. He's been pestering Doc and Doc said he'd contact your manager a little later." I add.

"Well, we've got some shows coming up to promote the album but, I mean, I don't see the harm in going on tour with them." He shrugs. "It'd be good exposure." 

"It would."

"I don't know." He shakes his head a little, swallowing another bite of Lo mein, and I furrow my brows. "I just expected more people to buy 'Appetite'. And they would, if we had our video on MTV, and radio actually played us." He vents. "We're just chomping at the bit, ready to run our asses off the second the race starts, and nobody's firing the fucking starting gun."

The radio was afraid to play them, MTV refused to put their video for "Welcome to the Jungle" on air because John Malone (who owned half of the cable-houses that broadcasted MTV) only saw them as a heroin band, and promoting them wouldn't sit right with his strong Republican, conservative,"christian" morale...so he threatened to drop MTV if they played Guns N' Roses.

"I can talk to Doc and see if he can pull any strings. I mean if they'll play Mötley Crüe--"

"--Tom is vouching for us to anyone that will listen." He explains. "Right now it's not something to worry about, but if it's still like this six months from now, we need to panic a little."

"There's no way in hell it's gonna take six months for you guys to pick up traction." I state in disbelief.

"Viv--"

"--If six months from now you guys still aren't on MTV, I'll harass whoever I need to, to make it happen. I'll go to their houses." I promise and he shakes his head, chuckling. 

I was serious, and I ended up delivering on that.

"None of them are worth the trouble. Just a bunch of money-hungry hypocrites hiding behind religion to validate their assbackwards logic." He shrugs. 

"You sound like my dad." I point out and he smiles, taking another bite of food as I sip from my bottle of Pepsi. 

He stares at me for a moment before I'm raising my brows, silently asking him what's up. 

"So, like, how is your dad so cool and your mom is so…" he trails off and I take a breath, shrugging a little. 

"That's how she was raised. I mean, I know that's not an excuse but her mom and dad were both that way on her and my aunt--my aunt obviously cracked under the pressure and just gave up trying to please them back when she was a teenager. My grandparents have been dead for years now but my mom still acts like she's trying to make them happy." I mumble. "Which, according to my dad, she wasn't always like that. She did a small 'wild' thing one time, and got knocked up with me." 

"What?!" He gawks. 

"They got married seven months early to avoid her parents knowing what they had done." I add.

"Dude, imagine losing your virginity and getting pregnant from it." He tries to hold back a laugh. 

"My mom always told me I was planned, and once I was old enough to do the math between my birthday and their anniversary, I put the pieces together and my dad finally told me what happened when I turned sixteen." 

He nods, and licks his lips, awkwardly clearing his throat before saying:

"So...what about your first time?" 

I scoff, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"Um, seventeen, Nikki, their roach-motel apartment." 

"You've only dated one guy?" 

"Yeah." I nod. 

"Wow…" he says it like it's hard to believe. 

"What's that mean?"

"I just expected you to have dated a couple more guys before settling on Nikki." He replies. 

"I didn't settle for Nikki." I tell him, matter of fact. "Being with him was a good idea at the time." I add. 

"Nah, I get it. That's how it was with my first big-boy girlfriend." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

He takes a second, taking in a heavy breath, but trying to keep things light with his smile. 

"We were, like, kids basically. Like sixteen/seventeen, and I had to go out of town to visit some family, and when I got back she told me she had hooked up with this dude at a party while I was away. And we broke up, and then got back together, and then things were good for another year until the big heroin epidemic hit Seattle." He informs me. "It got its hooks in her and wouldn't let go. I finally just had to break things off because I couldn't watch her kill herself in an overdose like some of my friends had already done, and I left for L.A. shortly after. I know that's selfish but ignorance is bliss. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I were to ever find out she'd died." There's a small gloss to his eyes, like he's holding back a few tears. 

"That's not selfish." I tell him, shaking my head. "Some people aren't meant to be in our lives forever. Some are just there to grow you in some way and if it's not God's will for them to stay around you he gives you the strength to just walk away." I suggest. 

"Is that what's happening with you and Nikki?" He asks next, looking at me. "He's giving you the strength to walk away?" 

"God's ignoring me currently so I wouldn't know." I admit. "He wants me to stay with Nikki, but Nikki won't even say whether or not he truly wants a divorce. He just avoids the conversation. I think he feels like if he ignores it, the issue will resolve itself."

"Well...what do you think? I mean, has anyone asked how you feel about this? Like having to make people think you guys are together and stuff." 

"It doesn't really matter how I--or even Nikki--feels."

"Okay, Vivian, I didn't ask about Nikki, alright?" He politely tells me and I sigh. 

"I'm miserable." I finally get it out. "We pose for pictures in magazines, still, a-and pile on the PDA anytime press is around and it freaking sucks. Because we're arguing more and more lately so it's like as soon as we get inside we're going back to being mean to each other. And I'm over him, like I've accepted the fact that we're more than likely divorcing, I've gotten all of it out of my system, but the waiting and dragging it out for another year is just getting to me." A couple tears topple over my lashes. 

"If you want out then get out, Viv." He says to me. 

"It's not that simple, Duff."

"Yes, it is. You're just waiting for Nikki to tell you he wants to work things out, and using Doc telling you guys to hold off on any decisions until the tour is over, as an excuse." He states, as noninvasive as possible and I hate to hear the truth. "If you wanna stay, stay, if you want to leave him, leave him. You shouldn't have to explain yourself either way. It's your own business but at least be honest with yourself and call it what it is."

"I will when you do." I argue and he looks at me with raised brows. 

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, please, Duff, you act like this when you're sober but then when you're drunk you're telling me you love me." I state. "You're not being honest with yourself, either."

His brows furrow.

"Viv, what the fuck am I suppose to do? Huh? You're married. You've been married."

"Barely." 

"What do you want me to do about it?" He defensively chuckles out. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"Nikki's done a lot for me and the band, and I don't want to disrespect you or him so I've kept to myself, alright? So just leave it at that and let's finish eating because I got rehearsal tomorrow." He tries to change the subject. 

"He had an entire mistress, Duff, telling me how you really felt about me wouldn't have--"

"--You wanna know how I really feel about you? Fine. I don't understand how someone so beautiful and insanely kind could fucking exist, but you do. My hands get all weird and sweaty and gross when you're around. I can barely walk at times because my legs feel like jello anytime I'm talking to you. It pisses me off that you're so talented and a fucking genius but all you see is how you aren't good enough because you aren't the 'type' that guys like Nikki usually desire--but I'm telling you now, people stare at you anywhere we go like you're healing lepers or something and it's definitely not because they think you're ugly. I know what my boundaries are and would never purposely do something that would make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry I said that to you when I was shitfaced. I'd much rather have told you when I was sober, but there's never been a point of me telling you because--"

"--Tell me." I cut him short. "You're sober." I point out, shifting to my knees. "So tell me." 

He licks his lips, his breathing picking up slightly as he looks me dead in the eyes. 

"I love you." He tells me. "I love you, Vivian." He repeats it, more confidently. "I have since the day we met."

I nod a little, my eyes getting teary and I'm kissing him before I can talk myself out of it. 

[keig-hoe-takami]

Chapter 4

Masterlist

The three friends gaped at the crowd around the UA campus, it was only the third day of school and already news reporters were circling the school gates.

‘Excuse me! You three there!’ a reported yelled as the students were noticed by the group ‘What’s it like being All Might’s pupils?’ Voices converged into one as more reporters hounded them for comments.

‘Come on guys, here.’ Kirishima put his arms around the two girls to the side of him, dragging them forcefully through the crowd, ‘He’s a great teacher, we’re really learning a lot from him!’ He shouted in the hopes of calming the crowd down, he succeeded partially, allowing the three to finally rush through the gates.

‘Oh my god that was crazy!’ Ichirou gasped, ‘I didn’t realise people would be so interested in All Might being a teacher!’

‘I mean, I guess it is pretty cool since he’s the number one hero,’ Kirishima said, looking back at the still restless crowd,

‘I hope they don’t use those pictures, you messed up my damn hair Kiri!’ Mina cried out as she tried to flatten the now frizzy mess,

‘Sorry Mina, I didn’t mean to- just wanted to protect you that’s all.’ Kirishima apologised,

‘Spoken like a true hero.’ Ichirou said, ‘I’m sure they wont use the pictures though, they’ll probably want some more candid photos.’ Mina smiled at her, slightly reassured.

‘Lets get on with home room notices…’ Mr Aizawa said calmly, ‘I’m sorry to have to spring this on you all, but we need to pick a class president.’

A ripple of excitement rolled over the class, finally they were going to be doing something school like!!

‘I wanna be class president!’ Kirishima cried out,

‘I love leader positions- Ill do it!’ Mina challenged

‘I wanna do it too!’ The girl in front of Ichirou said, almost everyone had raised their hands, Ichirou included, excited for the opportunity to prove themselves at UA.

‘BE QUIET!!’ A loud, commanding voice caused everyone to turn to the back of the room, Tenya Iida began to speak, ‘This is a task laden with responsibility where you must carry and pull everyone else’s weight! Just because you’d like to do it doesn’t mean you can!’ The tall boy had a point but he seemed to be taking the entire thing way to seriously, ‘It is a holy office that requires the great esteem and trust of those around you…! The only truly worthy leader will emerge from a democratic choice reflecting the will of the people! It must be settled with a vote!

‘But everyone will just vote for themselves!’ Kirishima shouted back,

‘Which is why the person who does earn multiple votes will be the truly appropriate person for the job, no?!’ Iida explained, Ichirou understood exactly what he meant, and placed a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder in warning.

In the end, almost everybody voted for themselves, and Ichirou wasn’t innocent. It was true that she didn’t really know anyone well enough yet to assume that they would be a good leader, though she was pleased that Momo had won vice-president, but she had also wanted to see if she could have won.

Midoriya stood at the class next to the taller girl, nervously shaking as he excepted his place as class president, ‘So then its president Midoriya and vice-president Yaoyorozu.’ Aizawa confirmed, stepping out of his sleeping bag.

The lunch rush cafeteria was just as amazing as usual; Ichirou and Mina took their seats with the boys at an empty table.

‘I’ve been talking to Asui quite a lot, she’s the frog girl who sits behind me,’ Mina explained to Ichirou, ‘I think she’s really nice, told me to call her Tsu- so I guess that means we’re friends!’,

‘That’s great, you’ll have to introduce me,’ Ichirou smiled at her friend as the two tucked into their noodles, ‘Sometimes Jirou turns round to chat to me, she so cool- her dad was in a band or something like that.’

‘She sounds awesome, there’s so many cool people in our class! I don’t even have a backstory.’ Mina sulked,

‘What do you mean you don’t have a backstory, you weirdo.’ Ichirou questioned,

‘Well, Kiri dyed his hair, and you don’t have a dad-‘ Mina started,

‘Hey, those jokes are only funny if I do them.’ Ichirou jokingly narrowed her eyes at the girl,

‘Whatever,’ Mina stuck her tongue out at her,

‘Besides, you saved those girls from that villain, that’s backstory.’ Ichirou motioned with her fork,

‘Don’t remind me of that! It’s so scary to think of!’ Mina covered her eyes, shaking her head,

‘Sorry Pinky, but you were so brave!’ Ichirou nudged the girl next to her,

‘Move up.’ Ichirou looked up at the recognisably gruff voice above her, her eyes met with Bakugou’s stern face. The girl smiled, sliding along the bench to allow the boy to sit next to her.

‘Baku-bro!’ Kirishima said, ‘Didn’t expect you to actually come sit with us!’

‘Don’t make a big deal of it shitty-hair.’ Bakugou replied, sending a glare in Kirishima’s direction, the boy put his hands up in surrender, Denki and Sero’s eyes widened,

‘Hey we got the same meal!’ Ichirou exclaimed as she saw Bakugou begin eating his noodles, ‘Mina got it too.’ She added, becoming nervous as Bakugou didn’t reply,

‘They’re pretty good.’ The boy mumbled as he finished his dish quickly, holy shit he eats fast- Ichirou thought to herself, turning to Mina who was wiggling her eyebrows suggestively back at Ichirou who faked puking to save face.

Suddenly, a loud blaring noise rang out through the cafeteria, ‘SECURITY LEVEL 3 HAS BEEN BREACHED. STUDENTS, PLEASE PROMPTLY EVACUATE.’

‘Evacuate!’ Denki exclaimed as the group left their seats, joining the crowd of teenagers trying to get to the school safety points,

‘It means someone’s infiltrated the school grounds!’ A voice shouted over the crowd, whipping the students into an even bigger frenzy. Ichirou was jostled into a wall by her upperclassmen as they raced to the door, finding it difficult to see her friends thanks to the tall 3rd years,

‘Mina! Kiri, where are you?’ She cried out, becoming stressed at the chaos of the situation as she was pushed into the wall again, face first this time. She had no clue what was going on. Her ears were ringing with the crescendo of voices and her tail was hidden between her legs in fear. Overwhelmed, she turned again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mina’s pink hair, instead she was met by another wall.

‘Watch yourself, runt.’ Ichirou looked up to see Bakugou standing above her, ‘listen, this is those damn reporters, alright? Don’t go running around like a damn idiot.’

‘O-okay.’ Ichirou mumbled, dangerously aware of how close the two were, she was practically trapped by his strong chest,

‘The hells up with your damn ears?’ The boy questioned abruptly, noticing the way they twitched, moving independently in all directions,

‘Um, its just loud.’ Ichirou answered, her tail wiggling from side to side as she felt her entire body heat up,

‘Huh.’ Bakugou grunted, before promptly flattening the girls ears with his hands, dulling the sound and pulling her even closer to him. Ichirou’s eyes went wide at the sudden intrusion, the sensitivity of her ears causing the speed of her tail to increase rapidly, thrashing from side to side as she gripped the boys forearm.

Ichirou wasn’t sure how much time passed in this position, but she was soon taken out of her trance as Bakugou lifted his hands from her ears.

‘Its over.’ He stated, the somewhat dazed girl lifted her head from where she had burrowed into his front, she looked around noticing Iida being helped down from a doorway? How he’d got there she didn’t know- ‘He jumped.’ Bakugou stated as he took a step back from the girl, Ichirou nodded in acknowledgement as her arm dropped back to her side. Bakugou nodded back before sticking his hands in his pockets and turning to walk away.

‘For the foundational skill of heroics we’ll study today,’ Aizawa started as his class calmed down, ‘It was decided you’ll be supervised by a three-man team comprising of me, All Might and somebody else.’ Decided? Ichirou thought to herself, what were they going to be doing that needed three teachers?

‘Be the hero everyone need, whether it’s a flood or any other disaster’ The teacher dramatically revealed the activity, ‘It’s the trail of rescue!!’ Ichirou’s face broke into a smile, thanks to her wolf traits, rescue was surely going to be a strong point of hers.

‘Trail of rescue… sounds a bit difficult this time round…’ Kaminari pondered,

‘Cmon, dumbass, that’s what a hero’s whole job is!! I’m chomping at the bit!!’ Kiri replied, almost jumping out of his chair in his excitement,

‘As I was saying,’ Aizawa continued, staring down the two boys, ‘This time, it’s entirely up to each of you whether or not you wear your costume. Some of your costumes probably aren’t adapted to the task at hand, after all. The training area is fairly far away, so we’ll get there by bus. That’s all.’

‘I cant believe we’re going on a school trip!’ Mina swung Ichirou and hers hands as the two girls walked to the bus,

‘Same! I wonder who the somebody else Sensei was talking about is.’ Ichirou nodded in agreement as they came to a stop,

‘In order to get everybody seated smoothly on the bus, file into two lines according to your numbers.’ Iida, the classes new president, shouted to the waiting students,

‘Damn it, we cant sit next to each other! Why’d Iida do that.’ Mina sulked,

‘I think he’s pretty good, besides we’re close to each other so don’t worry.’ The other girl reassured as they parted to find their space in line. Ichirou was one of the last on the bus, but she soon realised poor Iida’s system had failed, no one was sat in their right places,

‘Rou!! I saved you a seat!’ Mina called from one of the benches at the front of the bus and Ichirou soon found herself sat between her and Kaminari,

‘So it ended up being this kind of bus anyway!’ Iida said defeatedly as he sat next to Mina,

‘Yeah there was no poi-‘ the girl began,

‘I think you did really well organising it Iida!’ Ichirou interrupted, sending a glare to her friend,

‘Thank you, Sato.’ Iida replied, turning to the girl,

‘Oh, call me Ichirou, we already have a Sato in this class.’ She said smiling and giving the boy a thumbs up,

‘Alright, Sa- Ichirou.’ Iida nodded his appreciation before turning to talk to Midoriya, Ichirou turned to her friends, who seemed to be in the middle of a conversation,

‘I’m kinda jealous of that kind of simple enhancer type quirk, though! There a lot you can do with one, and flashily too!’ Kirishima complimented Midoriya, ‘My hardening power isn’t bad for punch-ups, but I hate that its just not that flashy.’

‘Well , I think its an awesome quirk! Definitely a quirk that’ll be great use to a pro!’ Ichirou smiled at Midoriya’s reassurance, she was beginning to really like the strange boy.

‘Besides, Kiri, you know heroics has a lot about it that’s more like a popularity contest too, right?? You’re so nice I’m sure you’ll do great!’ Ichirou chimed in,

‘Yeah, like everyone’s gonna love Ichirou bc she’s like a teddy bear!’ Mina patted the girls head, rubbing at her ears as Ichirou leaned into the touch,

‘If we’re talking the double whammy of flashy and strong, you can’t not mention Todoroki and Bakugou!’ Kirishima added, deflecting attention,

‘Bakugou’s always fuming, so he wont be very popular.’ Asui mentioned, offhandedly, clearly not realising what she was saying,

‘The hell did you say! I’ll be popular, too!!’ The boy exploded from behind them, gripping the rails in front of him.

‘It’s only been a brief while since our socialisation has commenced and yet already we have been made apodictically cognisant of your personality, redolent as it is of a turd getting steamed in a sewer.’ Kaminari pressed the boy to further anger, Ichirou smacked his arm as she stifled a laugh,

‘Huh?! What the hell kinda vocabulary is that?! Ill fucking kill you!!’ Bakugou was practically bending the railing in anger, face scrunched up in a terrifying, but almost cute, fit of rage,

‘Damn Bakugou, you are one fouled mouthed dude.’ Kaminari continued, despite the fear in his eyes, and Ichirou had half a mind to smack a hand over the boys mouth.

‘We’re almost there. Settle down already…’ Aizawa ordered, before Bakugou jumped the railing and attacked Kaminari,

Bakugou kept his eyes trained on the poor boy, eyebrows drawn in a scowl. Ichirou looked at him subconsciously, wondering how in the world the boy could get so angry, that is, until his eyes flickered onto hers. She raised an eyebrow, snapping out of her thoughts quickly, but the boy didn’t reply, instead deciding to turn away as he so often did when their eyes met.

Ichirou’s eyes lit up as she finally saw the wide expanse of simulations the class would be training with, she shared a look with Mina whose own eyes were wide- the place looked like an amusement park!

‘Is this USJ or something?!’ Ichirou heard behind her, she had heard of the place before when researching UA as a school,

‘This is a practical training area I created to simulate all kinds of accidents and disasters,’ A voice came from the right, causing the student to turn and meet the 3rd teacher they’d be working with- the space hero 13! ‘It’s name is… the Ultimate Space for Jams!!’ they finished as the class burst in excitement,

‘I cant believe its 13!!’ Mina grabbed Ichirou’s hand and gripped tightly, gasping at the thought of meeting another pro hero,

‘I know! And they’re going to be teaching us!’ Ichirou added, just as excited as her friend to be learning from such an amazing hero.

‘Before we begin, just a thing,,, or two,’ 13 started again as the chatter died down, ‘I’m certain you’re all already quite aware, my quirk is called ‘black hole’ no matter what material may get sucked into its vortex, I’m afraid it will turn into dust.’

‘That’s a quirk perfect for removing wreckage and saving people injured by disasters!’ Midoriya shouted out excitedly,

‘Yes… it is, however, a power that could also be easily used to kill people. And in that way, it’s no different from the quirks of everyone here.’ At those words, Ichirou felt herself tremble, remembering how long it took for her to get used to her claws, how she would wake up scratched and bloody from restless nights, how she cut her friends, teachers, her own mother. ‘Naturally, in this society of super humans, quirks are strictly regulated, and the requirements for their lawful use enforced. Now, this lesson will serve as a fresh start! Lets get to studying about how to wield our quirks for the sake of human life! That is all! You have my gratitude for listening so intently and patiently!’ 13 finished their speech with a bow and was met with a round of applause from the students, all empowered by the words.

‘All right, first things first…’ Aizawa began, seeming to be disturbed by something in the centre court, Ichirou couldn’t see very well, but there seemed to be a swirling black mass- by the looks of things it wasn’t part of the training course. ‘Huddle together and don’t move!’ He shouted back as figures began to emerge from the darkness, ‘13! Protect the students!’

‘Is this like that training pattern at the entrance exam? Kiri said as Ichirou backed into him,

‘I really don’t think so- sensei looks nervous.’ Ichirou turned to the boy, speaking quietly as to not alarm the others.

‘Don’t move!’ Aizawa shouted back to the huddled children as he fixed his goggles, ‘Those are villains!!’ Ichirou’s suspicions had been right, she stepped back in realisation that these were the people the pro hero’s battled- and they were coming for her class.

‘Rou, can you hear what’s going on?’ Kirishima asked as he wrapped a protective arm around the girl who nodded in return, training her focus on the centre of the chaos.

‘According to the teachers curriculum we procured yesterday, Mr All Might was supposed to be here…’ Ichirou’s ears twitched at the unexpected voice coming from inside the black hole,

‘They wanted All Might,’ She relayed, ‘and I’m fairly certain that the black mass is actually a person.’ Kirishima and some of those around her seemed almost relieved that they weren’t the target,

‘You can’t tell me All Might… the symbol of peace… isn’t here…’ a dry rasping voice consumed Ichirou’s sensitive ears, it was a voice she was certain would haunt her forever, ‘I wonder if he’ll show up if we kill the kids?’

Ichirou tensed- they needed to get out.

a/n : its getting spicy y’all ft. Bakugou’s tiddies :)

taglist : @jazzylove

[hobiorbit]

hopping into love VI (m.)

pairing: (mainly) park jimin x hybrid!reader, hybrid!jeon jungkook x hybrid!reader, sligh hybrid!hoseok x hybrid!reader warnings: male masturbation, blowjobs (m/f giving), panty kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, creampie, threesome (m/m/f), cunnilingus, public sex, knotting, reader is biologically female summary: In which Jimin has no idea what he’s getting himself into when he adopts you, and he finds both him and Jungkook sexually and romantically infatuated with you A/N: so this is the last chapter of this series. i’m so happy it’s received so much support, and i really hope it lives up to any and all expectations you might have had for it. once again thank you to everyone! <3

-

“Y/N, what did i tell you about putting sunscreen on?” Jimin looked at you with a certain sternness in his eyes that made you cower slightly, jutting your bottom lip out. “It’s sticky…. And I can’t reach!” You answered, crossing your arms.

Your owner and Taehyung- along with your two hybrid friends decided that there was no other way to celebrate the transition from spring to summer than having a picnic. So, you had all packed up and gone to a quiet spot away from the loudness of the city, where you’d spend most of the day playing around with the two other hybrids- if Jimin would let you have fun.

Your owner eyed you as you crossed your arms in front of your body, wrinkling the fabric of your frilly tank top. It went nicely with the bottoms you’d chosen to wear that day, a light wash denim skirt. Your looked darling, everyone could see it. Your excuses hardly seemed to phase Jimin, and your pout increased when you could hear Jungkook and Hoseok sniggering about how you were in trouble.

“Hey, you guys. Why don’t you start unpacking the food?” Taehyung told the other two hybrids, not wanting an argument to break out. The two had a tendency to gang up on you, and they would unknowingly take it too far.

Jimin sighed as he bent down to his backpack, pulling a tube of sunscreen out of it. Your excuses to avoid the assault of the liquid never seemed to work. No matter if you burned or not, Jimin would lather you with it anyway, saying it protected you from a lot more than burns.

“Come here.” Jimin told you, not bothering to look up and meet your gaze. He knew you’d be frowning at him, and all he really cared about was making sure you were safe from the sun for the rest of the day. You trudged over to your owner, ears flat against your head as you wished you were down in the valley with the other hybrids and Taehyung.

“It’s really not that bad, Y/N. Turn around, and move your hair so I don’t get any sunscreen in it.” Jimin told you. You obeyed, gathering your hair in your hands and lifting it up so Jimin could slather sunscreen onto the exposed skin of your back. You whimpered from the coldness against your skin, but stood still as he began to rub it in.

Once your back was covered, Jimin moved to your arms and shoulders, before leaning down and covering your legs. You were about to walk away when Jimin grunted in disapproval, making you turn back to look at him curiously. He was signalling to his face and chest, making you deflate.

Jimin sent you a beautiful smile nonetheless. He carefully applied sunscreen to your face, looking into your eyes and admiring you as he did so. Your eyes were wide as you stared back at him, a small frown on your lips as you patiently waited for him to finish. When your face was sufficiently covered, Jimin squeezed your cheeks and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips.

You immediately smiled into the gesture, returning it until he pulled away a couple seconds later, quickle covering your chest in sunscreen before kissing your forehead, bringing you over to where the rest of the boys had set up.

“Y/N! Over here!” Hoseok shouted, patting the spot he and Jungkook had left in between them. You walked over, plopping down in between them. Taehyung handed you the sandwich Jimin had packed you, which you took gratefully. Taehyung and Jimin began to unpack different snacks- fruits, crackers, and even some sweet things you and Jungkook had begged Jimin to let you get.

Jungkook immediately started chomping down on his sandwich, and you quickly followed suit. You hummed happily at the taste, tail twitching in happiness behind you. Once you had half your sandwich done, you grasped your water bottle. You gulped down a few big drinks, some water leaking out the side of your mouth. Hoseok wiped the side of your mouth caringly, chiding you for behind messy.

“Here comes the airplane~” Hoseok teased, wiggling a baby carrot in front of you. You opened your mouth and entertained him, giggling at the airplane noises he made. You carefully took it into your mouth, avoiding the dog hybrid’s fingers. Once he took his hand away you began chewing normally, quickly going back to your sandwich as you observed everyone around you.

Jungkook was done first, which wasn’t a surprise at all. Jimin tended to take his time with his food, and while Taehyung was also never in a rush, the bites he took were ginormous. Hoseok tended to be fast with everything, but sometimes he slowed down enough to enjoy his food rightfully.

“Hurry up… I want to go play.” Jungkook groaned, flopping onto the blanket spread out below you. You looked down at him, cheeks full with food. He smiled, bringing a finger up to your cheek. You smiled and swallowed, quickly eating the last few bites of your sandwich as Hoseok followed suit.

“We’re gonna go into the forest and walk around. It looks pretty cool in there.” Jungkook told both of your owners. Jimin nodded slowly. “You have your phone, right?” Jimin asked, and Jungkook digged around in the pocket of his jeans before fishing out the object in question. Jimin smiled, looking toward you.

“If they’re mean to you, come back here. And you guys,” Jimin broke his gaze to look at the two male hybrids. “Be nice to her.” Taehyung nodded, holding up his fingers to his eyes before switching them to Hoseok, a silent way of telling the hybrid his eyes were on him. Hoseok laughed happily, wagging his tail.

“Okay, okay! Let’s go.” Jungkook said, grabbing your hand and dragging you along in the direction of the wooded area, walking onto a somewhat worn path. It was a beautiful spot, sunlight shining through the trees as everything was painted green. Different foliage and earthy scents bombarded your senses, making you feel at peace with where you were.

Hoseok ran ahead of the two of you, sniffing random things and looking around excitedly. You stayed closed to Jungkook’s side, perfectly happy with following along and observing the dog hybrid’s actions.

“Look at that tree!” Hoseok said, pointing farther into the forest. Jungkook had taken special care to remember the turns you were taking, which you were thankful for. You followed Hoseok’s finger to the tree he was pointing at. It was definitely huge, the diameter of it so large that even with both of his arms spread around it, Hoseok couldn’t even make it halfway around.

“Oh, wow.” You said, eyes wide as you observed the colossal tree. Even Jungkook seemed to take interest, quickly joining Hoseok in observing it. The ground around it was covered in luscious green grass, the entire scene looking straight out of a movie.

“Y/N, come here!” Hoseok nodded toward you. You obeyed, walking over and looking at the tree. “Wanna play a game?” Hoseok whispered into your ear, making you shiver as your thighs clenches. The dog always had an effect on you when he wanted to.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Through the corner of your eye, you observed Hoseok looking at Jungkook, almost as if seeking his approval before speaking again.

“You’re going to bed and keep your hands on the tree while Jungkookie and I have fun with you. Sound like a plan, baby?” Hoseok asked you, caressing your waist. Your eyes widened at how bold he was, but you nodded. “Yes…” You said afterward, knowing that Jungkook had a tendency to not do anything until you verbally confirmed you wanted it to happen, no matter how your body was reacting.

Hoseok seemed pleased with your response, because he gently bent you until you were pressed against the tree, hands touching the rough bark. Your cheek was resting against your hand, giving you a somewhat restricted view of what was going on behind you. You felt Hoseok pulling your skirt over your hips more than you felt it, and before you knew it your panty clothes core was exposed to both of the hungry hybrids.

Hoseok cooed at the cuteness of your panties, bringing a hand up to mess with your tail, resulting in you keening and wiggling your hips. If the wet spot on your underwear wasn’t apparent before, it definitely was now.

“Oh, my little bunny. So excited to play with another man… Are Jiminie and I not enough for you?” Jungkook chided while pressing light, feathery touches to your clit over the soaked cloth of your underwear. Your eyes widened in panic as you shook your head, both boys laughing at your reaction.

“No… Love Jungkookie and Jiminie.” You pouted, plump lips pushing outwards looking deliciously enticing.

“Don’t worry, baby. I was just teasing. You gonna be a good girl for us?” Jungkook asked. You nodded. “Yes, Kookie. Please play with me.” You answered, causing Hoseok to groan. He took your words as a signal to start, hooking his long fingers under the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down to your knees.

“You’re soaked. Excited for my knot, huh baby?” Hoseok asked you, making you keen in excitement. The mere thought of being stretched around Hoseok’s knot had you gushing, aching to be filled.

“Yes, Hoseokie, want you to fill me up…” You whined, arching your hips so your ass was on display for both men behind you. Jungkook gripped your waist. “Patience, bunny.” Jungkook told you, making you stop your movements, albeit slowly. When you were still again Jungkook ran his fingers down your cunt, wetting them before sliding a digit in.

You whimpered at the friction caused, focusing on the pace Hoseok set. You could hear the squelching of your pussy, only proving how wet you were. Jungkook rubbed his cock over his jeans, biting his lip at the sight.

“Fuck, I need to taste you.” He finally said, sinking to his knees and tonguing at your went cunt as Hoseok continued his assault. The extra stimulation had you moaning out loud, lost in pleasure. Jungkook tongued at your clit harshly while Hoseok added a second finger, hitting the one spot inside of you that made you go crazy.

“K-Kookie, Seokie, I’m gonna cum.” You whined, writhing your hips against their movements. Jungkook digged his hands into your thighs in an attempt to keep you still as both of their movements became harsher and faster, attempting to get you to reach your high. In barely any time, your mouth was open in a silent scream as you gushed onto Hoseok’s fingers, getting Jungkook wet too, no doubt.

They both stepped back, Hoseok wiping his hands on the side of his track pants, taking in your form as you tried to recover from your orgasm. You were breathing heavily, hair disheveled as your tongue had snuck out of your mouth, almost panting.

“You’re so good for us. Do you think you can do it again for me? I really want to stretch you out… I’m sure you could put that pretty mouth of yours to use for Jungkookie, yeah?” You licked your lips, suddenly feeling very rejuvenated.

Nodding, you agreed to Hoseok’s inquiry. “Yes, Hoseokie. I can do it again.” He gave you a wide smile, one that felt entirely unfitting for the current events, but you returned it nonetheless. Hoseok slid his track pants down enough to free his cock, grabbing it and pumping it a few times while staring straight at your soaking pussy.

“Gonna mount you, knot you up and fill you with my pups. You want it, right baby? Want to carry my pups for me? We’ll have to carry you back when we’re done here because you won’t be able to walk, gonna fuck you so hard.” Hoseok told you, making your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

“Please! Mount me, make me yours!” You begged him desperately, wanting nothing more than for Hoseok to stuff his cock inside of you and fuck you. He seemed pleased enough, because he grabbed your hips tightly and guided his cock into you, groaning at the pleasure that surrounded him. He immediately started a bruising pace, leaving you to cry out as Jungkook went to your side, smoothing your hair back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“So fucking tight, taking me like a champ. So good for me, baby.” Hoseok told you, running a hand over your tail once again that had you keening against Jungkook’s lips, kissing him like it was your lifeline. Your mind was completely jumbled, the only thoughts in your mind were consumed by the two hybrids who held every bit of your attention.

“Y/N, can you take me? Use your mouth for me, baby?” Jungkook asked you gently, to which you only nodded through your whimpers and whines as Hoseok continued his assault on your pussy. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, and by the sound of it Hoseok wasn’t in very good shape either.

Jungkook got to work freeing his cock from his jeans, quickly guiding it to your mouth. You immediately suckled on the tip, circling your tongue around it before beginning to bob your head on his cock. Your movements were jerky and not very fluid due to the absolute harshness of Hoseok’s thrusts.

“One isn’t enough for you, huh bunny? Need two cocks to keep you happy? Fuck, you look so good stuffed full.” The older hybrid commented, slapping your ass which had you moaning around the other rabbit hybrid’s cock. Jungkook weaved his hand into your hair, guiding your head down his cock as he threw his head back and moaned.

Your pussy spasmed around Hoseok’s cock, signalling you were close. He cursed, speeding up his movements as the rim of your pussy started catching on him, a tell tale sign that his knot was forming. You moaned, sending vibrations up Jungkook’s cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna knot you. Are you ready, Y/N?” Hoseok asked, keeping his dark gaze on you as you tried to nod as best you could with a cock inside your mouth. Jungkook’s hips stuttered. He pulled out of your mouth, giving you free reign to moan. The other rabbit hybrid jerked his hand over himself. “Gonna come on your pretty face, bunny.” Jungkook told you, and you immediately stuck your hand out. That seemed to be the boiling point for both hybrids, Jungkook spilling himself over your face and Hoseok stuffing his knot into your pussy. You cried out from the stretch, enjoying every second of it.

Hoseok leaned over your back, kissing your shoulder as he rubbed your clit, allowing you to finally cum around his cock again, leaving you entirely worn out. Jungkook scooped up his cum from your cheek, holding his fingers out for you in a silent command to clean them off. You did so, swirling your tongue around his digits as you felt Hoseok’s hot cum inside you.

“How long is that gonna take to go down?” Jungkook asked, nodding toward where you and Hoseok’s bodies were joined together as he fixed his clothing. Hoseok was still breathing hard, kneading a hand into your thigh to try and release some tension from standing in the same position for so long. He carefully lifted you up so you were standing, back against his chest.

“Only about ten minutes.” Hoseok yawned. Jungkook took off his jacket, setting it on the ground. Immediately, Hoseok dragged you down to sit in his lap as you bathed in post orgasmic bliss.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” he murmured to you, cradling you in his arms. You smiled at him and Jungkook. “Full.” You commented, making them both giggle in response.

“Thanks for playing with me, Y/N~ I’ll try and convince Taehyungie to stop and get some ice cream for all of your efforts. You were such a good girl.” Hoseok said. You smiled, kissing his cheek before reaching a hand out to Jungkook. He squatted next to you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Jimin’s probably wondering what’s taking us so long.” Jungkook commented, not seeming very concerned. His phone hadn’t buzzed, so it either slipped Jimin’s mind or he had more confidence in all of you than he admitted.

“Oh, he knows exactly what happened and you know it. No one can resist this little bunny.” Hoseok said, patting a hand on your thigh. You only smiled in response.

It was true. No one really could resist you.

[captainmeowvelwrites]

You Times Two (Ch.6)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 4502 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… Our infuriating bean's gone and done it now. He asked Kagami out. And our favourite superheroine, bless her heart, decided pursuing Luka isn't such a selfish idea, despite Mr Whisker's recent unveiling as Mr Hotstuff. But of course, the calm waves of clarity lasted for all of two seconds, when light-hearted Ladynoir dove down to ow-my-heart Ladrien. Our boy hasn't gotten his lady. And our bug's still without her kitty. But at least they had cake, and that's what truly matters. What will Sunshine Boy do with his lady's kind words? And how will our silly bug fare after that little moment they shared? Read on, my fellow Miraculers, and purrhaps you'll find out.

 ---

Chapter Six

Adrien dove onto his bed, the springs squeaking beneath his weight. He felt five degrees warmer, like his joy was some tangible thing, its warmth spreading through his veins, right to his fingertips.

He whirled onto his back and gazed at the high ceiling, all too aware of the grin that filled his face. He'd bet all nine of his lives it'd been there for most of patrol, given the way his cheeks ached.

And boy, did he welcome the sensation.

It meant he wasn't dreaming.

Hadn't been dreaming.

Not when she'd cracked those purrfect puns.

Not when she'd said all those wonderful things.

Not when she'd accepted him, all of him.

If somehow he was dreaming, then clichés be damned, he never wanted to wake up.

Adrien drummed his fingers against the silk sheets of his bed. As terrible as it sounded, he almost hoped for an akuma, for a way to unleash all this energy, for a chance to see her again.

For a chance to be seen again.

Not as Adrien Agreste, the well-mannered model.

Not as Chat Noir, the boisterous superhero.

Just as him.

Loud chomps echoed off the marble tiles of his bathroom, where Plagg, of course, had taken up residence in a basket of dirty laundry.

"You're such a pig, Plagg," he called, rolling his eyes. "Are we not even gonna talk about what happened tonight?" Because, geez, he needed to get this out of his system.

Plagg's tiny head popped out from a sea of clothes. "You wanna talk about tonight? You mean"—mirth coated his every word—"how you're keeping your options open, Mr Heartbreaker?"

Adrien lurched upright on his bed. "I – What?" His hands twisted around his sheets. "No way, Plagg." His voice sounded drier than two-week-old toast. "I'm… I have a date with Kagami tomorrow. I've ordered roses, booked a nice rooftop – way harder than you'd think, by the way. It's all planned out!"

Plagg drifted over, half a wheel of Camembert clasped between his paws. "Oh please," he groaned, plonking his tiny butt on the mattress. "You just spent ten minutes smiling at the ceiling."

Adrien tensed, guilt writhing in his chest. "I – I wasn't—"

"This ain't my first rodeo, kid." He downed the rest of his cheese, and garbled, "I know a lovestruck kitty when I see one."

Adrien twisted his arms across his chest, a line forming between his brows. He was well aware that, just as there'd been other Ladybugs, there'd been other Chat Noirs. He didn't know much more than that, his main source of information being the Ladyblog. Plagg had never been the sentimental sort, after all.

Still, Plagg's words clung to his mind. Was he referring to a previous time he'd pined over Ladybug? Or perhaps a former black cat?

Adrien looked at his kwami, who'd since retrieved another wheel of Camembert from his minifridge. "Plagg, is this normal?"

Plagg looked up from his spot on the bed. "Huh?" He bit a big chunk of cheese off the wheel. "Whataya talking about?"

Adrien chewed the inside of his cheek. "Is it normal for Ladybug and Cat Miraculous Holders to… have… love dramas, I guess?"

Plagg shrugged. "Ehh. It happens." He stretched across the bed, not unlike an actual cat, and dragged out a yawn. "It's not that surprising, really. Yin and yang. Opposites attract. That kinda stuff."

Adrien's eyes sunk to his sheets, and he absently smoothed any creases in sight.

Yin and yang…

When it came to relationships, Adrien had no basis for comparison. Still, he was familiar with the concept. If he wasn't, his Chinese tutor – a middle-aged man with a rather impressive moustache – would probably berate him to no end. The man often threw tidbits of Chinese history and culture into their one-on-one lessons.

Adrien gripped his chin, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

Come to think of it, Master Fu had mentioned the concept too, when he'd visited that Syren akuma.

"Tell me, Adrien"—a smile slid across the Guardian's thin lips—"are you familiar with yin and yang?"

Adrien gazed at the container in his palms, filled with a rainbow of assorted cheeses. "I, uhh… Of course, Master." He looked up from the box, meeting Master Fu's gaze. "But… why do you ask?"

Master Fu reached for Adrien's hand, and grazed a wrinkled thumb across the surface of his ring. "One cannot exist without the other." His tone, like his face, turned solemn. "Always remember that."

One cannot exist without the other…

Was that to say he and Ladybug were like yin and yang?

Push and pull?

Two halves of a whole?

He supposed that wasn't exactly inaccurate.

Ladybug creates, she takes the lead, and she's almost always careful.

Chat Noir destroys, he follows, and at times, he's reckless.

And of course, the comparisons flowed deeper still.

Adrien threw his legs over the side of the bed, elbows propped on his knees. "Opposites attract," he breathed to himself.

Plagg peered up from the cheese in his lap. "What was that?" he managed through a generous mouthful.

Adrien shook his head. "Never mind." His shoulders slumped.

Ladybug didn't share his feelings. If opposites really did attract, shouldn't that be the case?

He frowned, taunted by words his kwami had uttered just minutes ago. As much as he hated to admit it, Plagg was right. He was still gushing over Ladybug—but what was the point?

Yes, she was undoubtedly amazing.

Yes, she was one of his dearest friends.

Yes, she'd said all those lovely things to him.

But none of that changed the way she felt about him, nor how she felt about that unnamed boy.

And it didn't change the fact he had a date with Kagami tomorrow.

Adrien pursed his lips. With thoughts like these running rampant in his mind, was it really so wise to be pursuing Kagami?

He hoisted himself off the bed, a strained sigh escaping his lips. "Plagg?"

"What's up, kid?" the kwami called, still lazing on the bed.

Adrien's hands curled into fists as he marched toward his open window. "I just – I need to think, that's all."

Plagg groaned, sagging into the mattress. "Don't tell me we're going out again?"

"You and I both know I think a lot better out there than I do in here." He held up his hand, his ring gleaming in the overhead lights. "Plagg, claws out!" In a flash of pale green, leather slid up Adrien's body—and instantly, he felt lighter, freer, himself.

His tail billowed behind him as he leaped into the window frame, and scanned the shimmering cityscape. A waxing moon hung above, its milky glow dimmed by the shadows of wandering clouds. And past the high, brick wall ahead, steel lampposts illuminated a quiet street, no spectators in sight.

With no destination in mind, Chat Noir vaulted off his window and into the Parisian night.

---

The drone of late-night traffic coated the cool, evening air, as Marinette spritzed her potted plants and hummed a merry tune. She'd been grinning like a goof since downing cake with her kitty. And boy, had it been nice – wonderful, in fact – to just chill out, crack puns, and discuss mundane things.

His favourite meal was sausages with mashed potatoes, something his mother had often cooked before personal chefs came into the picture.

His favourite video game, to her surprise, wasn't Ultimate Mecha Strike III, but Mario Kart 8 Deluxe. And he'd claimed Rainbow Roads was his favourite track, to which she'd of course questioned his sanity.

As for his favourite subject, that spot went to Physics. He'd even considered making a career out of it (when she'd asked about his modelling, he'd merely said that wasn't where his passions lay).

He'd described his favourite colour as bluebell, specifically. And in the moments that followed, as Chat Noir had gazed into her eyes, her heart had transformed into a dancing candlewick, melting beneath the warmth of that… utterly breath-taking smile.

With a wistful sigh, Marinette crossed her arms atop her balcony railing, spray bottle still clutched between her fingers. Fortunately, he'd left her to ask most of the questions. Her identity was still a secret and tonight, he'd seemed more or less okay with that.

She knew that wouldn't last. Her kitty was stubborn, something she was painfully aware of, and it was only a matter of time until talk of her identity resurfaced. After all, Chat had made a fair point. What if something happened to her?

At that, memories of a fragmented moon flashed through her mind. What if she revealed her identity and something happened to him?

And what of Kagami? Adrien was clearly pursuing a relationship with her. Would unveiling herself as Ladybug come between that? Kagami was her friend, and as much as Marinette cared for Adrien, derailing what he had with Kagami wasn't really what she wanted.

No, she just wanted harmony.

And for Adrien to be happy.

Even if it wasn't with her.

Marinette heaved a sigh, slumping a little against the railing. Right now, she felt like the walking definition of "indecisive". With so many unknowns, how could she possibly make the right choice? What if she failed again and—

"Hello," came a hesitant murmur.

With a squeak, Marinette leaped back at record speed, juggling the spray bottle as though entangled in a game of hot potato. Once she had a steady grip on its handle, she lurched the plastic head toward the owner of that voice, finger on the trigger.

Green cat-eyes stared back at her, a flinch twisting the face of their owner.

She lowered her weapon, tension leaving her shoulders. "Chat Noir?"

He was perched on all fours atop a copper chimney cap. "Sorry, Marinette." He dropped to the balcony railing, just an arm's length away. "I didn't—"

"—mean to frighten me?" She offered a smile, one he returned in kind. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were doing this on purpose."

He chuckled. "This cat's not one for preying on mice. Promise." The slightest smirk he wore had her anticipating one of his infamous jests. "Speaking of which, that was quite the high-pitched squeak you did there." His smirk widened. "Purrhaps I should call you Marimouse from now on?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was one freak-out." Granted, her kitty had borne witness to a great many of her freak-outs… but he didn't know she knew that.

He snickered. "Well, I was also inspired by how you're Multimouse."

"Was Multimouse."

A faint chuckle was the only answer Chat gave her. With perfect poise, he seated himself atop the balcony railing, one leg drawn to his chest, the other dangling over the edge. He seemed to be getting comfortable. Did he plan to stay a while?

Marinette's mind drifted months into the past, and her smile grew. To think, it had been Adrien who'd dropped by her balcony that night. Adrien who'd gone out of his way to cheer her up. Adrien who'd confided in her about his love troubles.

That fact was ironic and sweet in equal measure.

Or maybe one part ironic, two parts sweet?

One part ironic, three parts sweet?

Or—

No, if she didn't stop now, she probably never would.

Marinette pressed her lips together, if only to bite back a laugh.

"So," Chat started, "it's a little late to be watering plants, isn't it?"

She didn't miss the slight, playful lilt in his voice. In fact, it had her lips quirking up at the corners. She set the bottle down on a weather-worn table and gripped her hips. "It's a little late to be scaring the pants off of unsuspecting girls, isn't it?"

He gave her a once-over, then flashed a smirk. "Speaking of which, nice pyjamas."

Marinette tensed, stealing a glance at her sleepwear. Of course, she'd reached for the dark blue ones with silhouettes of yellow cats. She jutted her nose into the air. "Just so you know, I got these before you came along."

"So, you like cats, huh?" His smirk stretched with his next words, "Cat say I blame you." He winked.

She groaned despite the grin that had slapped itself on her face. "What're you even doing here, Chat Noir?" With folded arms, she leaned against the railing and looked up at him. "Don't you have, like, more important things to do?"

Chat shrugged. "Nah. Not really." He stared skyward, any amusement now gone from his face. "I had some stuff on my mind and…" His eyes sunk to his leather-clad lap, a sigh sliding through his lips. "Let's just say, this cat hates being locked up with his thoughts."

Thoughts?

What thoughts?

Had Ladybug not reassured him as much as she'd believed?

Such questions lingered near the fringes of her mind, but prying answers out of him wasn't her place. Or rather, it wasn't Marinette's place.

"So," she drawled instead, "is this becoming, like… a regular thing? Late night visits to my balcony?"

Chat straightened where he sat. "Sorry." He reached for his staff, tucked above his tail. "I – I can—"

"No!" Marinette gripped his wrist before he could draw his staff, and he blinked down at her. "I didn't mean it like that. Really."

His eyes left hers, trailing the length of her arm to fall on her hand, still around his wrist.

Suddenly, she was all too aware of the wild hammering in her chest. Clearing her throat, she pulled that hand to her side, heat prickling her ears. "You're always welcome here, Chat Noir."

Chat smiled, resettling in his makeshift seat atop the railing. "Thanks, Marinette." He gazed at her, a familiar softness in his smile; one that slowly made its way to his eyes. "You're pretty great, y'know that?"

Marinette stared into those eyes—green, green, green—as vibrant as early spring. "So you are," she breathed, then shot ramrod straight. "I – I mean, so are you. I mean, it's – uh – the least I can do for – um – one of Paris' superheroes." She giggled, as strained as it was, and he gave a little chuckle in turn.

As a soothing silence washed over them, Marinette was reminded of the quiet, comforting lulls that often took place on their patrols, and her lips quirked up of their own accord. She glanced at her partner to find his sight set on some unseen thing. Whatever he was watching, the distance in his eyes showed he wasn't truly seeing it. Did being here, on her balcony, somehow help him to think?

She supposed that made sense. Being up here certainly helped whenever she had something on her mind.

"So," Marinette drawled, "did you, uhh… wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

He continued to stare into the distance. "It's… kinda complicated."

"Oh. Um – Fair enough." She managed a smile. "It's your private business and that's totally fine."

"No, it's not like that." He looked at her, his fingers laced around the steel fencing on which he sat. "It's just… kinda hard to explain, is all."

"Well, I've got time if you wanna give it a try." His eyes dropped, and hers followed the path they took. Only then did she realise her hand was atop his own, as though her inner-Ladybug had taken over, hoping to comfort her partner. She pulled it to her chest, red flushing her cheeks. "That is, uhh – maybe everything will make a little more sense – you know – if you put it into words?" She cleared her throat. "I mean, doing that helps me sometimes."

Chat bit his lower lip, something she shouldn’t have found so darn adorable during their current conversation. "I just… I guess, uhh…" He looked away, shrinking into his shoulders. "After what happened with Weredad, I… don't wanna make you uncomfortable with my"—he mumbled his next words—"love problems."

Marinette stilled. "Wait," she blurted out, "you're upset about love stuff?"

But wasn't he pursuing Kagami?

Oh no. Had her advice failed?

Wouldn't be the first time…

Or the second…

Or the—

"Sorry." He stooped his head low, his blond bangs skimming his mask. "Love stuff's probably all I ever seem to talk about, huh?"

"No, it's fine," she insisted, with a frantic wave of her hands. "Really. I mean, love is, umm… complicated like that."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Marinette caught herself reaching for his hand again; the moment she realised, she reached for one of her pigtails instead. "And, umm – forget about Weredad. I'm totally past that. Promise." She re-propped her arms atop the railing, if only to stop herself from reaching for him again. "If you wanna talk, I'm all ears!"

Chat pursed his lips, his eyes travelling across the darkened sky, where stars glittered like soft flicks from a paintbrush. "Well, you see"—he spared a glance her way—"I'm kinda seeing this girl. She's smart, brave, really pretty. Strong-minded too." The makings of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Actually, she's a lot like Ladybug." He huffed with amusement. "Is that bad?" A rhetorical question, it seemed, as he gave her no time to even dwell on it. "We're not official yet, but she thinks we are and… well…" That tiny smirk vanished. Instead, his shoulders sagged in time with his tail.

Marinette's brows gathered. After more than a year of akuma-fighting alongside her kitty, reading his body language was usually kitten's play. Now was no exception. "It almost seems like… you don't want to be official?"

His cat-ears drooped. "I don't know. I mean, I thought I did, but… you know how I feel about Ladybug."

A gasp lodged itself in her throat.

Oh no. This was about this evening, wasn't it?

It had to be.

But God, he'd just been so terribly down on himself and she'd needed to put a stop to it. Confusing him hadn't been her intention. Quite the opposite!

Chat's sigh thrust her from those thoughts. "I know she's in love with someone else. She has every right to be. It's just… hard, y'know?" This time, when he huffed, she got the sense it was from self-frustration more than anything else. "I keep thinking I'm getting over her”—he threw a hand through his mussed locks—"but then I see her at patrol and suddenly, it's like I'm falling for her all over again."

Marinette stared at her partner, a sharp pang in her heart.

She hated how true those same words rang for her; hated how she couldn't just tell him; hated how fiercely she wanted to.

But damn it, she couldn't. Not like this, for personal gain.

Yes, she returned his feelings – understatement of the century – and sure, revealing her identity and announcing her ginormous crush could fix Adrien's entire dilemma—but unveiling herself over something like this? That wasn't a guardian thing to do at all.

No, she'd just be cracking open a heaping silo of worms, and making more mistakes was something she just could not risk!

Once again, Chat continued, completely unaware of the frantic turn her thoughts had taken. "The second I saw Ladybug tonight, everything else just… melted away. It always does." His words were tender, brimming with affection, yet there was this heart-jerking ache about them. "She said such wonderful things to me, about me. I thought I was gonna explode."

Marinette pursed her lips—partly to hide the way they quivered, partly to stifle a strangled cry of – of what, exactly?

Joy?

Guilt?

Frustration?

Or perhaps desperation?

Was this what he'd meant about exploding?

"She—" Chat's voice cracked. "She even told me I was enough. No. More than enough." A ghost of a smile eased across his lips. "I don't think anyone's told me that since…" He chuckled, though it was harrowingly hollow. "Well, it's, uhh... been a long time."

Marinette was sure his grip on the railing had tightened. And was it a trick of the light or was he tearing up? He looked her way and the moment their eyes met, she had her answer. Just when she'd thought he couldn't tug her heartstrings any harder, the shaky smile he revealed proved her horribly wrong.

God, she hated this! All the lies and the secrets. The tiptoeing and half-truths.

It just wasn't fair. None of it.

Not on him.

Not on her.

They were a team.

How could they be their best with something so suffocating in the way?

Tears glossed her vision and suddenly, Chat Noir was no more than a flurry of shapes and colours. She looked away, avoiding his gaze, and smeared tears from her eyes with the back of a trembling hand.

“Oh no…”

Marinette heard faint steps upon wood. He must’ve swept from the railing to his feet.

“Did – Did I do that?" His hands eased onto her bare shoulders, their warmth radiating through her skin despite the leather gloves. "Marinette, I'm so sorry!"

How?

Just… Just how?

How was he so kind and selfless and utterly beautiful?

How could he suffer so silently, yet still find the strength to give others so much of himself?

Had she been transformed, she might've tackled her kitty in a fervid embrace. Her fingers twitched, yearning to pull him close, to comfort him as much as he did her, to give something of herself for once.

Instead, her jaw clamped in place as she fought back a guttural sob, and threw him the most convincing smile she could muster. "No, no," Marinette insisted, rubbing her reddening eyes. "It's not you. I'm just – Uh. The wind's a bit cold, that's all." She pointed up, as though the wind was some tangible thing. "It just – um – made my eyes sting. You know how those pesky breezes can be on your peepers!"

Chat rushed his hands up and down her bare arms. "I'm so sorry, Marinette." He scanned her balcony, as though hoping for a blanket to appear from thin air. "This suit sort of acts like a wind-protector, so I—"

"It's okay, Chat," said Marinette, a smile painting her lips. "I'll just consider this an excuse to have hot chocolate before bed."

He stilled at those words, and that soft smile was back—so Adrien, so Chat Noir, so him. "Well, when you put it like that." His smile spread. "Anyway, I should probably be going." His hands slid from her shoulders, one withdrawing his staff. "That hot chocolate of yours won't brew itself." He winked, and on light feet, took two steps toward the far end of her balcony.

"Chat Noir!"

Marinette grabbed his hand, and he stilled instantly, those green eyes watching her from over one shoulder. She pursed her lips, staring at her bare feet. "Umm… About this love stuff…" Warmth spread up her fingers, and she realised she hadn't released his hand. Her eyes reunited with his, pink grazing her cheeks, and she pulled her hand to her chest. "This – uh – might come as a surprise"—her insides writhed at the agonising truth of her next words—"but believe me, I know just how you feel."

Shock dusted his eyes. "You… You do?"

Marinette nodded, the movement slow and rather stiff. "So there are these two really smart, really kind, really cute guys – both amazing in their own special ways – and, well"—warmth crept across her face—"I really care about both of them, but I guess… deciding between them is like pulling teeth – worse than that, even." Her lips quaked. "It's just hard," she whispered, her brows furrowing. "Really hard."

Chat faced her completely, another smile gracing his full lips. "They're really lucky, you know"—her heart picked up the pace, throbbing madly in her eardrums—"to have a girl as amazing as you caring so much about them."

Had…

Had Adrien just said…

Marinette pinched her wrist, and the fleeting pain that brought with it had her choking back a squeal. "I – Uh —" Her mouth opened and closed as though she'd been born a goldfish. "Tha – Thank you," she eventually stammered, before sucking in a slow breath.

If she didn't keep her cool, she might do something stupid.

Like shatter his eardrums with a squeal.

Or call him Adrien.

Maybe kiss him.

No no no no.

That train of thought needed to stop pronto!

What… were they talking about again?

Remembrance flashed in her eyes. "But, uhh – about those girls." Her fingers drummed against her clothed thighs, the silk material smooth against her skin. "Those girls being – um – Ladybug and – uh – unnamed, mystery girl." She cleared her throat. "I'm sure they both care a lot about you, but at the end of the day, you've gotta do what's right for you." Her smile came easily, something she was immensely grateful for. "So, Chat, I say go for the girl that makes you happy."

He closed the gap between them, and Marinette hoped he wouldn't notice the goosebumps that blanketed her skin. If he did, she was totally blaming the wind again.

Of course, his hands found their way back to her shoulders. "Thank you, Marinette." He gazed into her eyes, and she wondered how a stare could possibly be so soft and intense at once. "You've helped me far more than you'll probably ever know."

Oh, the irony. It only powered the smile that lined her lips. "It was the least I could do," she said, echoing words he'd spoken all those months ago. By the look in his eyes, Chat seemed to understand.

He took two soundless steps back, extending his staff. "All right. I should probably scat before you get hypopurrmia."

Marinette snorted. "I think that second pun might've been pawshing it." She held her thumb and index finger parallel to each other and added, "Just a litter bit."

Chat stuck out his tongue. Like, actually stuck out his tongue. And Marinette wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him do that—in or out of the mask. "Thanks, Marimouse"—he showed a smirk and a two-fingered salute—"for being such a pawsome furend."

Why did she get the feeling he'd made those last two puns just to tease her?

He leaped onto the balcony railing, beaming when he glanced back at her. "Have a great evening, okay?" With a chuckle, he rubbed the nape of his neck. "And enjoy that hot chocolate!"

"Enjoy your evening too," she said with a wave. "And don't be a stranger, okay?"

With a nod and another of his classic, heart-warming smiles, Chat Noir leaped off the railing. The whir of his stick slowly faded, and Marinette watched as that unmistakable silhouette jumped from building to building, the light of nearby lampposts bouncing off his leather suit.

Only once he'd disappeared into the night did Tikki emerge, floating up to her face to nuzzle her cheek. With one finger, Marinette rubbed her kwami's tiny head. "Thanks, Tikki." She stared after her kitty and heaved a lengthy sigh. "What am I gonna do?"

[keichanz]

Move Your Body || pt. 2

Part 1 || Part 2

“When’s your next class with Sango?” Inuyasha asked her around 4 am and tipped back a water bottle to drain the rest of its contents.

Lowering her own drink that Inuyasha had provided for them sometime around two in the morning, Kagome sighed and tilted her head as she thought.

“Um, Wednesday,” she supplied. “I know she does them every day, but I can only come in every other because of classes.”

He nodded. “After your sessions with Sango you’ll come up here and we can begin our own. A month isn’t that long to come up with an entire routine, so plan to stay all day. I’ll provide food and shit and we can take breaks.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose but nodded without complaint. He was right; they didn’t have a lot of time, and with her having classes and his own job demanding his time, they couldn’t get together every day.

Inuyasha grunted, carelessly tossed his empty water bottle onto the table and released a hearty belch, ignoring Kagome’s look of disgust as he snatched up her phone and brought up her messaging app.

“I’m sending myself a text so you’ll have my number,” he told her, typing out a quick “hi” and sending it before handing it over. “Feel free to text me about any ideas you might have, or questions you wanna ask. Don’t matter when, if I’m busy or in a meeting I’ll reply when I’m done. I’ll do the same if I think of something and we can brainstorm.”

Kagome took back her phone with a nod and walked over to stash it in her bag. She spotted the remnants of her destroyed t-shirt and suddenly remembered her state of dress and blanched. Oh crap, what was she going to wear when she left?! She couldn’t walk home in nothing but shorts and a sports bra!

Inuyasha followed her gaze, watched her eyes go wide and the color drain from her face and rolled his eyes, walking over to his own discarded shirt on the floor and tossing it at her.

“Here,” he said as she automatically caught it. “Just bring it with you Wednesday and if you forget, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a shirt.” He shrugged and raised his arms above him in a stretch, releasing a yawn. Fuck, he needed to get to bed soon since he had a meeting in like...five hours. Shit.

Sending him a grateful smile but not without a blush, Kagome pulled his shirt over her head, immediately feeling better now that she had some cover. True, she’d been in nothing but shorts and her bra for the past few hours and she was more or less used to it now, but part of her still felt the need to hide herself. But they were working on that, and she couldn’t begin to express her gratitude for his help.

Picking up her bag and shrugging the strap over her shoulder, Kagome leveled him with one last genuine smile.

“Thank you,” she said softly, sincerely as her eyes collided with deep amber, “for everything. It means a lot that you’re taking the time to do this and...well.” She laughed softly and lifted a shoulder in half-shrug. “I appreciate it.”

Inuyasha studied her for a moment, golden eyes speculative, before he quirked a grin at her. “It’s my pleasure, babydoll,” he told her, being completely honest. “I’ll see you Wednesday. You okay to walk by yourself?” He didn’t like the thought of her walking alone at nearly 4:30 in the morning, but he really did need to get some sleep. However, if she asked him to accompany her he wouldn’t say no.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured with a smile, touched that he truly seemed to care. “It’s not far, just a ten minute walk. See you Wednesday.” She turned and headed toward the doorway, giving a yawn. Damn, she hadn’t realized how tired she was. She was very glad her first class wasn’t until noon.

“I’ll text you,” Inuyasha murmured as he watched her go and after she disappeared into the elevator, giving one last wave and smile before the doors slid shut, he sighed, shut off the lights, locked up, and headed upstairs to get some much needed shut eye.

Inuyasha fell heavily into his office chair with a groan and immediately started yanking off the tie that had been gradually suffocating him since nine that morning. It was now a little after noon and he’d just returned from the meeting that had run much longer than originally planned. It was the quarterly meeting, where Sesshomaru and his advisors went over profit and a bunch of other technical jargon that he didn’t particularly care for, and he had been bored out of his goddamn mind for the majority of it. Sesshomaru had kept sending him warning glares whenever he couldn’t hold back a yawn but he couldn’t help it; while he didn’t need as much sleep as the regular human, it had still been a while since he’d stayed up that late and he was paying for it now.

Finally loosening his tie with a grunt, he let it hang around his neck and leaned back in his plush chair, tossing an arm over his eyes and debating on the merits of a brief nap. But then he remembered he had an appointment at one with some spoiled brat that fancied herself a dancer because her rich daddy had called the day before and practically begged him to see her. Inuyasha had only said yes just to get the guy to shut up; he had no intention of taking on another client. Not right now, anyway. Between his actual jobs and the side project he had going on with Kagome, he didn’t have nearly enough time to dedicate to the private lessons that had been requested.

At the thought of his blue-eyed, dark-haired “student,” a grin lifted the comers of his lips and miraculously the pounding in his head lessened a degree. He’d only spent a few short hours with her, but already Inuyasha was eager for tomorrow to come so he could see her again. He liked her spunk, admired her determination and the flash of temper that always sparked in her eyes whenever he criticized her form or made her do a certain move again, but better and faster.

Though clearly not a fan of his methods of instruction, Kagome never complained and did as she was as told, preforming a move again and again and again until he was satisfied. She was a hard worker, he was quick to realize, and a fast learner which blessedly made their time together much easier. He was really looking forward to the day where she could put everything he taught her together and put on a little show for him, but until then he was content in slowly getting to know her in increments.

He’d learned little snippets about her life last night during times when idle chatter had been had, things like she’d been friends with Sango since middle school, she had a younger brother, and being a nurse had been a goal since she was a little girl. She liked helping people, she was a terrible cook, and she was deathly afraid of spiders.

Inuyasha had also learned she’d only ever had one boyfriend, some shmuck named Houjo she’d dated in high school, and they’d broken up when he left for the States for college. She was a virgin – he’d gleaned that obvious information by himself – she was completely inexperienced when it came to intimacy, and she really, truly thought that she wasn’t the least bit attractive.

Inuyasha frowned. He wasn’t stupid; he knew a single night and him simply telling her it was false wasn’t enough to convince her otherwise. He didn’t understand how such a knockout like Kagome could possibly have self-esteem issues, but everybody had his or her reasons, he supposed.  

Something might have happened in her past to make her think that, or maybe even something had happened just recently, but whatever the case Inuyasha was making it a personal goal to make her see herself through his eyes. She was a beautiful young woman worthy of praise and confidence, and he meant what he’d said; if he had to say it every day, shower her with compliments until she blushed and stuttered like a schoolgirl, he would.

Heaving a sigh, Inuyasha lowered his arm and cracked his neck, glancing at the clock and thinking he should probably get up and get something to eat when his office door opened without warning. His top instructor walked in like she owned the damn place, donned in her usual work attire of tank top and capri leggings with her dark hair secured in a high pony-tail.

Sango hip checked the door closed and strode over to his desk, calm as you please. Then Inuyasha noticed what she had in her hands and instantly he was alert, ears perking up and back straightening in his chair as he leaned forward.

“Fuck, I love you,” Inuyasha muttered as she set down a hot coffee from Starbucks and a McDonald’s bag on his desk. Knowing from experience not to immediately chug down the steaming brew, Inuyasha went for the food first, fishing out a Big Mac and barely getting the wrapper off all the way before chomping down with a groan of pleasure.

“I know,” Sango answered as she sat on his desk as opposed to one of the two chairs in front of it and sipped her caramel frappe. “Figured you’d be hungry since you never eat breakfast and your meeting ran late.”

Inuyasha grunted, polished off the burger with another three bites, and then started on the fries next.

“And also,” Sango continued a little too casually and idly played with the straw of her drink, “after I apologized about forgetting to unlock the door last night, a little birdie told me today that you didn’t get to bed until very late, hence the java.”

Then she paused and cut her eyes to his and Inuyasha froze.

Goddammit. He really should have known she’d tell her. Didn’t she say they’d been friends since middle school?

Heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes, Inuyasha shoved a few more fries into his mouth and then took a careful sip of his coffee. He let his silence be his answer and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he savored the Americano with one sugar. He tasted a hint of mocha too and he grunted in approval.

Sango’s lips twitched. “Are you seriously going to help her come up with an entire dance routine?”

He glared at her over the rim of his venti.

Unfazed, the dance instructor shrugged and turned her gaze to her drink, taking another pull on the straw. “I was just curious,” she said innocently, trying not to smile.

Her boss’s scoff told her exactly what he thought about her curiosity and that time she couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across her face.

“What’d she do to get you to help? Bat those big blue eyes at you and smile?”

Inuyasha stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then kicked up his feet onto his desk and leaned back in his chair as he nursed his coffee.

“I offered,” he told her.

Sango’s smile dropped. “What?”

He raised a brow and took another sip of his espresso.

Sango blinked at him and then her eyes widened. Holy crap, he was serious.

“Holy crap, you’re serious,” she said, incredulous.

Inuyasha looked a little offended at that and scowled at her. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be? Despite what you and the pervert think, I ain’t heartless, Sango. The girl clearly needs help, and as it just so happens I have the qualifications that fit her needs perfectly. She’s just another client and just because she’s your friend doesn’t make her any goddamn different than anybody else.”

Sango’s stare hardened and she squared her shoulders. He may be her boss, but he was also her friend, and she wasn’t about to take any of his shit.

“I know for a fact that Kagome’s not paying you so don’t tell me she’s not any different,” she spat, her protective instincts kicking in as they always did whenever her dear friend’s delicate nature was compromised. “She thinks you’re helping her free of charge out of the goodness of your heart, and I swear to god, Inuyasha, if she’s another one of your charity cases to get more publicity or you want you want your payment to come from other means—”

“Shut the fuckup, Sango,” Inuyasha growled and shot forward in his chair so fast Sango flinched back. Golden eyes flashing fire and fangs exposed in a dark scowl, the half-demon seethed, “Kagome’s not a goddamn charity case and you know I would never take advantage of her innocence like that, or anybody else for that matter, so fuck you for even saying that.”

Alarmed by the heated vehemence in his voice, Sango snapped her jaw shut and simply stared at him with wide magenta eyes, at a complete loss for words. She’d never seen him react like this before about any woman and it was completely unexpected, if a little disconcerting. She supposed he head every right, though; she always lost her head a little whenever it came to Kagome’s safety and she admitted she shouldn’t have accused him of such a horrible thing, because he would never do that.

“Not that it’s any of your business, because it’s not, helping Kagome is actually helping me,” he continued, still glaring, though his voice had lost its growl. “Sesshomaru’s been on my ass about new material and this is the perfect opportunity to get it. Kagome gets her dance, shoves her victory in that bitch Kamlyn’s face, and I have new material to give to that tightwad. Everybody wins.”

That said, Inuyasha sat back in his chair once more, lifted his coffee to his mouth, and looked to the side, his eyebrows down low over his eyes. He glowered at some random point on the wall, still pissed that his friend would even insinuate he would ever take advantage of a woman like that.

A tense silence developed between them after that and Sango stared pensively into her drink while Inuyasha nursed his coffee and fished his phone from his pocket. He’d gotten a text earlier during the meeting but hadn’t had the chance to check it yet...

Sango sighed, drawing his attention, and he flicked his gaze over to her, expression carefully blank.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she began, looking and sounding guilty enough that his anger softened a little and he gave her his full attention. Sango glanced at him and grimaced. “You’re right, I know you would never do that. It was stupid.”

He snorted but her glare quickly shut him up.

“It’s just...” Sango sighed again and pushed her fingers through her bangs, brow furrowing as she gathered her thoughts. “You have to understand, Inuyasha, Kagome is...fragile. I was honestly surprised when she told me she signed up for this competition because she...well, she...”

“She has no confidence,” Inuyasha supplied for her and at her look of surprise he sighed and nodded. “I already know she has low self-esteem and thinks its necessary to hide behind baggy clothes. It’s another reason why I chose to do this, Sango. I wanna help her. Really. Kagome is fucking beautiful and I want her to see that.”

He stared directly into her eyes and the sincerity was unmistakable in the honeyed depths. Inuyasha was being totally and completely honest and if Sango were being honest herself, she was floored at the hanyou’s dedication to this cause. It was one she approved of, definitely, but in all of her years as his closest friend, she’d never witnessed him going this far for any woman before.

And with a start, she realized that he was exactly what her shy, self-conscious friend needed. Inuyasha’s unique brand of arrogance, dedication and tenacity would no doubt draw Kagome out of her shell and slowly transform her into the confident, brave woman Sango knew she could be.

Sango would just consider it a bonus that Kagome was also just what the doctor ordered for the oftentimes hotheaded hanyou, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

Finally offering her friend a genuine smile, Sango nodded once. “Keep me posted?” she asked. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do my best.”

Releasing a breath, Inuyasha nodded in return and thrust a hand through his hair, glancing at the clock. 12:28. He still had a bit of time left before Daddy’s Little Princess showed up, so in the mean time he had one last question for his friend.

“Hey, Sango,” he began, idly tracing the cap of his coffee with a claw as the instructor glanced over at him inquisitively. “...Why is Kagome like that? Did something happen?”

Sango sighed and took another drink of her frappe, brows dipped down into a slight frown. She’d had a feeling he’d ask, and while she supposed he had a right to know since he was going to help with Kagome’s self-image, it didn’t make it any easier to reveal. Perhaps Kagome herself should be the one telling him this, but Sango also knew it wouldn’t be right for him to ask, and her friend wouldn’t reveal that information to him without cause anyway.

“It goes without saying,” she began slowly, “but please keep this to yourself. Kagome hasn’t always looked the way she does, Inuyasha. When she was in elementary school, before I met her, she was chubby and mercilessly picked on because of it. She told me she didn’t have a lot of friends because of how she looked, and it only got worse when she entered middle school. She gained a little more weight, and the bullying got worse, to the point she would refuse to go to school the next day.

“The day I met her she was surrounded by high school boys and they were calling her names, bullying her about her weight, and laughing because she was crying. I managed to chase them away by screaming for the nearest teacher and threatening to kick them in the balls if they didn’t leave her alone and ever since then Kagome has been my best friend. I became her protector against the bullies and it wasn’t until Kagome’s appearance started to hinder her health that she decided to do something about it.

“She started exercising daily, with me being her constant support of course, eating healthier, and taking care of her body. By high school she looked like a completely different person, a lot like she does now, and that’s when she got her first boyfriend.”

Inuyasha frowned. “Houjo.”

Sango blinked in surprise. “She told you about him?”

He shrugged. “In passing. She didn’t give any details and I didn’t ask.”

“Anyway,” she continued and took a sip of her drink to wet her throat. “Dating Houjo helped a lot with Kagome’s self-esteem, but even he couldn’t erase the scars from years of bullying. And even though they parted on friendly terms because it was a mutual breakup, Kagome regressed back to her previous way of thinking and now it’s just a subconscious habit to dress in baggy clothes and deny any compliment that’s given to her, an instinctive way of protecting herself, I imagine. I’m always telling her she looks great, but she just blushes, shrugs, and changes the subject.”

Sango sighed and chewed on the end of her straw with a thoughtful frown. “She’s still eating healthy and exercising when she can, but you have to understand, Inuyasha, after years of being called degrading names, bullied because of how she looked, and believing she was ugly or didn’t deserve affection, I’d imagine it’d be quite difficult to accept any sort of praise, even if it’s true. She’s been cruelly conditioned to think like that, and without Houjo there as a constant reminder that she’s worthy and beautiful...”

She paused and stole a look at her unusually quiet half-demon boss and friend. Inuyasha was staring down at his desk, claws tapping against the thick paper of his coffee cup as he drummed his fingers. It was hard to determine what exactly the prevalent emotion on his face was, however judging by the dark frown that gradually lowered his brows over his eyes and the way his lip curled over sharp fangs, Sango wagered that anger had reigned supreme.

Relatable. Sango often felt the same whenever she thought about how rough her best friend had had it and the desire to go back in time and kick some ass was always present.

But then it vanished as quickly as it had arrived and Inuyasha shook his head, closing his eyes as he thrust a hand through his hair. It was obvious he was still perturbed at this new information however, because though less prominent, the frown on his face hadn’t diminished and he sat back in his chair. The rough grunt he emitted as he lifted his coffee to his lips articulated exactly what he thought about that and Sango nodded.

“Same,” she agreed.

Translation: I don’t fucking like this.

Then he sighed, nodded, and cut his eyes to hers with the steely determination that Sango recognized and her expression softened into a smile as she easily decoded what that meant.

But I’m gonna do my damnedest to fix it.

“Good,” Sango whispered and by mutual agreement, the two lapsed into silence as Inuyasha finished off his coffee and dumped the evidence of his lunch into the trash while Sango noisily and obnoxiously slurped up the remnants of her frappe.

Inuyasha’s ears pinned and he pegged her with an annoyed glare. She returned it with an innocent smile and while keeping eye contact, drew on the straw one last time, resulting in another grating slurping sound. He scowled at her.

Visibly pleased and resisting the urge to cackle, Sango sucked up the last of the tasty caramel before finally tossing it into the trash. Inuyasha rolled his eyes and dug around in his desk for his cigs and lighter, lamenting on the fact that his friends and instructors were children in adult bodies.

“By the way,” Sango said as she prepared to leave, “you’re one o’clock is here.”

Inuyasha paused and aimed a frown at her. “How the hell do you know?”

She smiled sweetly. “I saw her waiting in the lobby when I got back from getting your lunch. She was quite rude and demanded that I ‘fetch Mr. Taisho tout de suite, he’s expecting me and I mustn’t keep him waiting.’ So I gave her my murder-smile and said, ‘Right away, miss,’ then came up here and had a half-hour conversation with you.”

Her boss stared at her blankly for a moment and then a delighted grin spread across his face. “You are a fucking queen.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Sango quipped with a wink and headed for the door.

Inuyasha snorted and looked at the clock. From what Sango told him, Miss Daddy’s Princess must have gotten here shortly after he did, nearly a fucking hour early. What the actual fuck.

Growling in annoyance but figuring he might as well get it over with, he grunted and said, “Send her up.”

���I’m not your secretary,” Sango snorted as she reached the door and swung it open.

“I’m sorry, who signs your paychecks?”

“Asshat.”

“Bitch.”

“That’s Queen Bitch, thankyouverymuch.” Sango flipped him off and Inuyasha returned the gesture, straight-faced.

Rolling her eyes and grumbling, his friend finally left his office, but Inuyasha didn’t fail to miss the smile that crept onto her face right before the door closed behind her.

Chuckling, Inuyasha shook his head and wondered not for the first time how such a sorry son of a bitch like him lucked out with such amazing friends before once more rifling through his desk for his nicotine sticks. He ended up finding them on his desk under a pile of paperwork along with his lighter and he wasted no time in lighting up.

The sound of the elevator chiming outside his office was his only warning and he just barely managed to shove his hat down onto his head before his door was unceremoniously thrust open and his one o’clock appointment sauntered in without a care in the word. Inuyasha cocked a brow at her audacity at not bothering to knock before barging in but said nothing, leaning back in his chair and peering at the woman that strolled confidently toward him from under the bill of his hat.

Crossing his arms, the cherry of his cig flared orange as he inhaled and Inuyasha watched Miss Daddy’s Princess give him her best beauty pageant smile that he bet she practiced doing in front of a mirror and claimed one of the plush chairs before his desk. He first thing he noticed was that her tits were so full of silicone they could be considered paperweights and when she not so subtly thrust out her chest, they threatened to spill from her very low cut blouse. Christ, the buttons looked about ready to burst open and Inuyasha nearly choked on smoke as he disguised a laugh.

“Mr. Taisho,” she purred, crossing her legs at the knee and causing her short skirt to ride up either further. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I was here nearly half an hour ago, but that bi—uh, that lady made me wait.” She huffed and pretended to pout.

Inuyasha didn’t deign that with a comment and took in the rest of her, releasing a stream of smoke in a smooth exhale. Tanning salon worthy dark skin, long brown hair with so much product in it stung his nose, and the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

Contacts, he surmised and flicked the ashes off his cig into an ashtray. She was pretty, he’d give her that, but in an artificial way and he was willing to bet her personality was just as fake as those rock hard bags on her chest. She knew how to manipulate a situation and what to say to get what she wanted, but that was okay. Inuyasha had dealt with countless women like her before so he was prepared for whatever she threw at him.

“Miss...Soma, was it?” Inuyasha drawled and stuck his fag between his lips again.

She smiled again, perfect white teeth flashing. Of course.

“Call me Kamlyn, Mr. Taisho.”

Inuyasha choked on his next inhale and surged forward, blindly reaching for the half-full bottle of water sitting on his desk.

He lied. He certainly hadn’t been prepared for that.

Kamlyn Soma, the bitch that had apparently been tormenting Kagome for the past three years, blinked and frowned at him.

“Are you...okay?” she asked and actually sounded genuinely concerned.

Chugging back the contents of the bottle, Inuyasha held up a finger in the universal “one moment” signal and after successfully soothing the irritant in his throat, he lowered the water and released a loud breath.

“M’fine,” he finally answered and looked around for his cig, scowling when he found it on the floor by his feet. Grumbling he stooped down to pick it up before settling back in his chair, inspecting it carefully.

Eh, whatever; he gave a mental shrug and placed it between his lips again. He didn’t want to waste a perfectly good cig he’d just started and besides, his office was vacuumed daily and shampooed monthly from the same company he hired to clean the studios.

Remembering he had an audience, Inuyasha turned his attention back to the woman before him. She was still eyeing him a little strangely but wiped the expression from her face when his eyes connected with hers, straightening her back and offering him another practiced smile.

“What can I do for you, Miss Soma?”

“Kamlyn.”

He stared at her and wordlessly opened his mouth to let a few tendrils of smoke drift lazily upward.

Undeterred, Miss Kamlyn Soma, aka Kagome’s Tormenter, cleared her throat and launched into an entire spiel that Inuyasha was positive she practiced for hours beforehand, complete with the sultry lilt to her voice.

“So, Mr. Taisho, I have a...proposition for you.” Her smile turned rather suggestive and she leaned forward in her seat, deliberately showing a generous amount of cleavage. “You see, my school is having a dance competition...”

Eighteen minutes later, lazily puffing away on his second cigarette without a damn care in the world, Inuyasha watched in unabashed amusement as Kamlyn Soma stormed out of his office, face beat red and body stiff with anger. Aside from an ear flicking beneath his hat when she slammed his door as hard as she could, he didn’t react and merely tapped more ashes into the ashtray, calm as you please.

Her less than stellar behavior had been entirely expected. When her methods of seduction had failed to garner what she wanted – i.e., assistance in planning a show-stopping routine – she’d thrown a tantrum and resorted to threatening him with her daddy’s money and power. Inuyasha had been unimpressed – Ryukotsusei Soma couldn’t do shit to him – and once more turned her down with the true reasoning of he was too busy.

He’d been professional and polite, keeping his tone respectful even when her calm composure had begun to deteriorate and she’d tried one last tactic, desperation causing her to lose all pretenses of seduction and outright promising him that she’d give him the ride of his life if only he would agree to help. She’d pay him generously of course, implying that money would not be the only means, but when still he’d replied in the negative, even looking bored while he said it, that was when she’d dropped her façade and her viper attitude had shown its fangs.

Inuyasha had merely watched, face blank, as she’d ranted and raved at him for a good five minutes, threatening that she would destroy his reputation and pretty much throwing a little spoiled princess hissy fit before huffily stomping away and childishly slamming the door in her wake.

Fuck, but Ryukotsusei must have the patience of a goddamn saint to put up with that every day.

Snorting, Inuyasha carelessly tossed his hat onto his desk, freeing his ears, and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Waking up the screen, he was a little disappointed to see the text he’d received earlier wasn’t from Kagome, but then again, it wasn’t that surprising. Considering how insecure and shy she was, it was a given she wouldn’t text him first, probably thinking she’d be bothering him or something and not wanting to be a nuisance. He hoped soon she’d be comfortable enough to text him whenever she wanted, but for now he was content to initiate their conversations.

Ignoring the message from Kikyou telling him to call her later, Inuyasha brought the text he’d sent from Kagome’s phone last night and swiftly typed in a new message.

you’ll never guess who I just had the pleasure of meeting with and then stormed outta my office looking pissed enough to commit murder

He hit send, paused, and then sent a second one. mine, specifically

Expecting it might be a while before she replied since he had no idea what her class schedule entailed, Inuyasha flipped up his laptop and decided it’d be a good idea to actually get some work done. He needed to check his emails, reply back to some if necessary, call and check in with a few of his clients, call Kikyou, draw up some contracts, review and sign a few contracts, file said contracts, go over payroll and yell at Miroku for his frequent habit of coming in late, and then go over some reports that were past due.

Fuck my life, he groused, grumbling as he brought up his email, crushing the stub of his cigarette in the ashtray and lighting up a fresh one. He stared longingly at his office’s custom bar he’d added in some years back but thought better of it. Sango would kill him if she caught him drinking in the middle of the day, no matter how justifiable it was after putting up with someone like Kamlyn Soma for nearly twenty minutes, and he was pretty sure he’d finished his JD last week anyway.

Shame.

He wasn’t even half-way through reading his second email when his phone buzzed beside his computer. Surprised, but delighted, Inuyasha abandoned the email to swipe up the device and lean back in his chair to read his newest text.

????

He snorted even as the corners of his lips quirked up into a slight grin.

A one kamlyn soma maybe you’ve heard of her

Her reply was instant that time.

GET. OUT!!!!!!!!!

Inuyasha laughed.

srsly. tried seducing her way into getting me to help w her dance was hilarious

Taking a drag, Inuyasha exhaled through the side of his mouth and idly tapped this thumb against the screen as he waited for her to reply. The three dots appeared, vanished, appeared, and then disappeared again and he frowned when it stayed that way. He narrowed his eyes, and then to keep himself from asking what the hell she was doing, he closed the app and after thinking about it for a split second, brought up Facebook.

He brought up his friends, found Sango, and browsed her friends until—ah. There she was.

Grinning victoriously and with a single tap, he brought up Kagome Higurashi’s profile and took his time going through her timeline, chuckling at some of the memes and pictures she’d shared that gave him a glimpse into her sense of humor. Then he came across a selfie of her and Sango, looking positively radiant as they laughed together, and his expression softened.

Truly, how could she ever think that she wasn’t pretty with something like this as proof?

He’d just decided to browse her albums to see what other gems he could find when finally his mobile vibrated with an incoming message. And instead of the lengthy reply he’d been expecting because she was taking so long, the notification that dropped down had his brows snapping low over his eyes in an annoyed frown.

You agreed??

Ears pinning flat against his head and growling low, Inuyasha gripped his phone with both hands and hastily typed out his response, pissed the hell off that she actually had to fucking ask that in the first place.

what the fuck kagome NO I didn’t agree u don’t fucking think I would actual

Inuyasha stopped mid-word. Blinked down at his phone and reread what he’d typed. Then he sighed, briefly closed his eyes, and promptly deleted everything he’d written before starting again.

no babydoll. I didn’t my time is yours

He hit send and dragged a hand down his face as his previous anger quickly fled. Kagome was insecure and Kamlyn was her hot, although still fake as fuck, enemy; it wasn’t farfetched that she’d assume he would agree. He was a businessman, and what businessman didn’t want…well, more business? He’d have to keep reminding himself that Kagome was just acting on instinct, doing what her brain had been unconsciously hardwired to do, and he’d definitely have to start exercising more restraint.

It was like Sango said; Kagome as fragile, or at least her state of mind was, and Inuyasha knew if he directed one of his infamous blowups at her, it would cause more damage than he could repair. And he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Blessedly her reply came much quicker this time around and glancing down at the mobile cradled in his lax grip, he released a breath and was suddenly infinitely glad he’d decided to change his last message.

:)

Grinning, Inuyasha sent the dog emoji back, practically able to hear the giggle he knew it would elicit, and then grudgingly put down his cell to actually get some work done. In a significantly lighter mood than before, he went back to his email, unaware of the smile that lingered on his face as he scanned the page.

Part 3

Buy me a coffee? :)

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 26

Last time: Ed’s telepathic powers refused to appear, Bradley stuck Riza behind a desk, and Envy turned into a Japanese RPG Boss. Onwards!

Season One Finale, here we go! Back in the Stomach Ed and Ling are getting batted around by Titan!Envy. And yeesh, Ling just went flying into a pillar and I’m pretty sure the blood he spat out wasn’t from the stuff they’re wading in. Ed charges…! Oh that’s just not fair. I don’t know if it’s just an illusion by Envy or those are shades of the sacrifices for Envy’s Stone, but Ed can’t bring himself to attack the screaming voices. Ling’s totally fine, though, stabs one of the Shades and drags Ed away, tries to snap him out of it. Come on Ed, you’ve got to- [Nina]: “Big Brother. Wanna play?”

FUCK YOU, ENVY. Gracia was bad enough, but you’re pulling Nina into this?! Ed is understandably shocked at this, can’t move even as Envy grabs him and slams him into the ground. Then damnit damnit Envy’s freaky tongue-thing is picking him up and he’s still shocked and Ling’s too hurt to reach him and Envy just chomped down and ate Ed. Leto damn it, not again!

Episode 26 - “Reunion” Ok, back outside, May’s still going around looking for Shao, finds a construction worker who saw her with “a guy in a suit of armor”. May has a terrified Image Spot of a demonic Al chortiling in [Evil Laughter], with a question mark for that unimportant pipsqueak he was with (heh). May’s stomping along with Scar in tow, ranting about the kidnapper and how he’ll pay big time. But how will she find him in such a big oh there he is, down that alley. With Gluttony, too! Right, the Goth was taking Al to Father. Despite Scar’s warnings, May goes after him, leaving the Ishvalan to follow wondering why Al is with the guy who nearly killed him before. May’s getting second thoughts, sensing the source of the Wrongness in Amestris (so she’s got the Detect Evil skill like Ling?). Shao seems to be sensing the Wrongness too, so upset that she doesn’t even object to Al’s concern, clutching his hand in fear. Gluttony is as cheerfully oblivious as ever, leading the potential sacrifice to his boss. He even brushes off all the shattered bones underfoot, saying the “gatekeepers” won’t hurt Al as long as he’s being escorted. But their tails don’t have a Goth guide, so I’m anticipating a fight scene in the near future. Uuugh we’re back to Ed now in Stomach Squared, freaky flesh faces sliding past as… a red light starts shining? The Philosopher’s Stone! Quick, smash it! Leto damn it boy, stop having flashbacks of symbols and TCs and- *Ed kicks one of Envy’s teeth out, flails his freed leg around* [Ed]: “Open up, Envy! Your breath is killing me!”

Huh? Ed’s saying he’s got a way to get them out of there? I was expecting a final attack against the Goth, but are you trying to get all three of you free? Hi, Gatekeepers! *May and Scar do their thing* Bye, Gatekeepers! Never mind! Hi, more Gatekeepers! Well hello again, Father. (Beard). Dude picks up on the Gatekeepers being slaughtered restless, looks like he’ll have visitors. Uh, time for Bradley backstory, I guess. Doesn’t remember his parents, raised with a bunch of other young boys as “Prospective Fuhrers” by men in lab coats who just scream trustworthiness, studied and sparred and got strapped to an operating table by the Labcoats… and after being injected with Liquid Stone he rose up as Wrath, renamed King Bradley. I’m willing to bet that if Father didn’t remove the Labcoats to tie up loose ends, that their test subject didn’t stay from revenge himself. Oh wow, he’s actually telling Roy all of this, about how he doesn’t even know if he’s the “original soul” or just the strongest from the Stone. In any case, Roy’s question about restoring his humanity? I’m sorry Roy, but I’ve gotta side with the Fuhrer on this one. Horrific origins aside, he is arguably superior to classic humankind at this point. You’re arguing he should give up enhanced physical abilities and regeneration for… what, exactly? Again, I DO NOT CONDONE THE USE OF PHILOSOPHERS STONES. But after the fact, there’s really no advantage to undoing Bradley’s transformation. Back in the Stomach, Ling is patching Ed up as Envy is gathering the fragments of the Xerxes mural. Ed had thought that it was similar to the Philosopher’s Stone TC from the Fifth Laboratory, but on closer inspection it’s made for “summoning”. That is, Human Transmutation. He can’t bring back the dead because of the Rule of Equivalent Exchange- EEC: 9 Seriously? The last time I can find this count being updated is way back in Ep 13. I have been lied to about how prevalent the term is in this show. -but Ed can Transmute himself, theoretically opening the Gate which, again theoretically will get them out of this failed Truth dimension into their own. Regardless of all the theoreticals and risk of Rebound, do you really wanna trust a Xerxes artifact? I mean, I thought their whole deal was they tried some sort of Transmutation thing and then EVERYONE vanished. That’s like finding a big red button in the middle of Atlantis. Oh. Ok then. That answers my question. Ed went on to decipher the rest of the mural, about how it’s about casting God down and becoming the perfect being. And the mural was shattered and hidden in the Stomach to hide what happened to Xerxes; their wholesale slaughter to form a Philospher’s Stone. Envy just says he’ll answer any questions once they’re out (and we should trust you to keep your word why…?), offers his Philosopher’s Stone to “pay the toll”. Wow, you just blithely admit that they used to be Xerxians but their individual souls crumbled long ago to just be energy. You really don’t care for humanity, do you? [Envy]: “Would you hesitate to throw a bundle of logs onto a fire, because you pittied the tree they came from?” Screw you, Envy… and fork over that Stone. You aren’t right, and I will never concede to you being right… but for now, we need that power source. Transmutation time! Ling notes amid Epic Music and [transmutation sounds] that it almost looks like Ed’s praying when he Transmutes (of course, gotta pay respects to the Almighty Leto after all), light flashes and the three of them fragment and fade away into the Portal, Ed focuses on the passage even as Truth (sporting a familiar arm and leg) taunts him about not getting his body back… Gluttony and Al are at a big door, Father on the other side. Gluttony pushes the door open… Ed’s at the Gate of Truth now, [grimacing with pain]. Wait, two doors? And another… oh, Leto. Is that Al? Ed screams for his brother even as the [giggling] Gate pulls him back, he can’t leave. Not without his own soul. The door closes- *Door smashes open, end credits music starts up* Wait… no. No no no, don’t you dare end before we even see Father- [Ed]: “Alphonse! Look at me! I promise… Someday soon, I’m coming back for you! Just you wait! Wait for meeeee!”

… … … LETO DAMN IT NO NO NO YOU DO NOT END IT THERE WHAT THE LETO THAT IS NOT A FINALE NO NO NO NO NO Well, ok then. To recap: -Roy’s Conspiracy has been broken up all over Amestris, Riza herself assigned to work directly for the Fuhrer -May and Scar are busy fighting the Goth’s Gatekeepers (who cares where Yoki is) -Gluttony, Al, and Shao are opening the freaking door to face Father -Ed, Ling, and Envy are in the midst of Portaling their way back to reality ...yup! That sounds like an absolutely perfect place to end a season. Seriously… Alright! Well, overall I have been delighted with this amazing story, glad to have watched it and throw speculations around like sparklers, I’ll see you guys soonish for Season Tw- … WHY IS BROTHERHOOD GONE FROM ITUNES?!

[littlemonstersau-blog]

The Feels Awaken Part 1: Return of the Memori

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

PART I (you are here)  - PART II

———————————————————————————————–

The lone wolf sat and watched, and that was an excellent development; the creature was learning to wait patiently, even though it was a wild, apex predator and doubtlessly could have ripped the dead squirrel from the hands of a teenage boy with ease (under normal circumstances, at least). Of course, since Bill was only wearing the clone of a teenage boy, he probably had an advantage in training the lone wolf. It could sense him—the real him—inside the clonesuit, and therefore was wary of making any aggressive moves … Animals always were around Demons, unlike most humans. Another instance when instinct trumped intellect …

So, instead, the lone wolf sat and watched patiently while Bill swung the dead squirrel around by its tail. Sat and waited for Bill’s conversational monologue to end.

“You’re prob’ly wondering why I haven’t eaten your soul like I did Chatterface McBurymynuts right here. And why I’ve taken to feeding you the soulless carcasses of my victims in person instead of just leaving them out for you. Well, I got three reasons. One: I like your aesthetic; you’re nearly all triangles in shape—really angular all over your body—and I really dig that. You’re relatably triangular, and I wanna see more of that in the world. Two: you’re endangered; if I let you live, there will be more wolves (so more angular creatures) in the world … and also more werewolves, which would be weird and awesome. And three …” Here, with a grin, Bill tossed the dead squirrel high and watched as the lone wolf snatched it out of the air. “Yeah, that’s right, wolf it down—heh heh! The third reason is, I’m gonna partially domesticate you and train you to pull me around in a sweet-ass chariot! Doesn’t that sound rad?!”

Having swallowed the last of the squirrel, the lone wolf turned and padded away into the woods.

“Don’t worry, we’ll talk more about how awesome my idea is later!” Bill called after him. “Just think a bit about what a fair exchange it would be! Actually, it’s a great deal for you! Tasty treats just for letting me occasionally ride you into battle like a chaotic, Norse deity! We can workshop ideas about the chariot’s design next time!”

On a nearby branch, a bird chirped.

“No, I think the wolf’s gonna seriously consider my offer,” Bill replied optimistically. “This is all just part of the deal-making game, which you’d understand if you weren’t a dumbass robin.”

The bird chirped again, then flew away.

“… Welp, that killed some time. Guess I’d better go back to the Shack and find some other activity to pass away the seemingly endless seconds until I get to skyelp with my Dipper …”

While he was tromping back through the woods, however, Bill was distracted by an unusual, yet strangely familiar sound. Juddering and throaty, then sharp and quick, then juddering and throaty again. Repetitive, too, though intermingled with a soft noise almost like keening or … no, exactly like whimpering. Then it clicked for Bill, even though he hadn’t heard that sound in over thirty years. It was the sound of a grown man sobbing. And not just any man, either, but Ford.

Softly, Bill crept towards him, eventually looking through bushes to the stump of a felled tree. Ford sat on it, hunched over and alone, crying as though he couldn’t hold back his own tears … as though he were too weary to hold them back anymore … That was probably why he’d come all the way out here in the woods, Bill suspected, where no one could see his moment of emotional vulnerability. Or so he had believed, at any rate, not knowing Bill was out here …

On Ford’s lap was an open book with brightly—even garishly—colored pages. One of the many scrapbooks Mabel had made. In between bouts of sobs, he slowly turned the pages and murmured things like, “Can’t believe she came b-back with a whole handful of it … So t-tough, even though always so sweet …” and “Terrified, but he f-faced it down anyway … for me … And I was s-so … so proud …” and “Heh! That f-fashion show she put together for Pacifica, made us all t-take part in … Can’t remember when I laughed so h-hard …” and “Oh, here’s that Jack o’Mellon he carved like the Gremloblin … from m-memory … So t-talented … And then they went trick-or-treating together both as the protagonist from that one game series—Myth of Hilda, or something like that?—Moses, it was adorable …” to himself. With each turn of a page, he was reminiscing about something different from the past summers: family game nights, hikes and fishing, short roadtrips, and on and on and on … Ford himself summed it up succinctly when he finally closed the scrapbook, buried his face in his hands, and whimpered, “Damn, I m-miss those kids!”

For a moment, a spark of bitter satisfaction flared up in Bill (“Good. Let that asshole suffer.”). And yet, it was soon doused by empathetic pity and sorrow (“I feel the same, though—we all feel the same … We all miss those kids …”). Then came a splash of feeling surprised, because of all the pity and sorrow; they were still such strange emotions for him as to be almost foreign. Following that, a bit of meta-emotional introspection at realizing he was feeling about feelings. Fortunately, before Bill could become too confused and horrified by the idea that he had become so human as to have feelings about having feelings, Ford stood and slowly trudged back home. After a safe amount of time had elapsed, Bill did the same.

Inside the Shack, sitting on the card table in the living room, was the scrapbook (no doubt left there by Ford on his way down to his lab). Along with several more of them. Picking up the most recent one, Bill began to flip slowly through its colorful pages filled with photos, stickers, notes, and miscellaneous memorabilia.

And as he did, he began to flip slowly through his own memories …

****

Terrified screams as he burst forth from his prison of a stone statue, rose up over them out of his shell (“Did you miss me? Admit it, you missed me!”), and tried to … tried to …

Bill shuddered to think of what he had almost done—what he surely would have done, if he had had enough power at the time. “Thank all the Gods that ever were or will be that that failed …” he muttered to himself.

Making little overtures of friendship—or at least not-malice—to Mabel until he got her to listen to his spiel about wanting to understand how he lost to them and to change and blah blah blah. Ford’s utter disbelief that the others could be so easily suckered. Entering a clone that first time and devouring that delicious little bit of soul in it (“Yum! Tastes just like mangoes and fear!”).

“They shouldn’t have. Ford was right that I was plotting their doom back then … Not anymore, but they all took a huge and stupid gamble, and just happened to get lucky … We all did …”

Steel slicing through paper and ink, dumping the scraps of bodies left, right, and center and relishing the screams of surprise (“Hehehehehe! What, you didn’t like my joke? You wanna … piece of me? Hahaha! Well, take your pick, there are plenty of pieces of me there on the floor!”). Sharpening his teeth to fine points to chomp at people. Gouging out his own eye. So much edge and shock at play, cold and hot at the same time, hilarious ticklings of pain.

“Such a waste of clonesuits,” Bill sighed. “And … all for the sake of just shocking them? Taking advantage of their love of Dipper? Stupid—can’t believe I thought that was funny at the time … So much time wasted during those first few weeks of the summer. Don’t wanna remember that, not anymore … wanna remember something else, something happier …”

Jokes so bad they made everyone groan, which made everyone laugh. Fireworks made of lasers. Taking part in an impromptu fashion show for the newest line of summer sweaters. Watermelons carved into jolly grotesqueries, lit with candles, and eventually tossed from the roof to splat. Making muffins with apple and cinnamon. Uncontrollable laughter at a rock shaped like a dong and after arcs of water accidentally melted another clonesuit. Wonderous eyes aglow with uncontainable excitement and the soft light of an everadiant crystal. Warmth of a shared blanket and the fun betrayal of an ambush of tickling underneath them. Kisses snuck around corners, behind doors, within shadows, inside the safety of a Nice Place.

“Heh …” Bill couldn’t help but smile to himself. “Even when I start out with all the others, too, it always comes back to him … But maybe I should focus more, not just look at the flashes and snapshots of memory? Delve in deeper to some memories? After all, what’s the point of perfect recall if I hardly ever use it? But, um …” Looking around the currently empty (though perhaps not for long) living room, he closed the scrapbooks and stood up. “Maybe up in the attic, where there’s a little more privacy …”

****

It was one specific memory that detoured his chain of thoughts, as memories tend to do.

Dipper. Sitting on a couch with Ford standing behind him, reaching over the couch to him. Flushed with simple happiness as Ford tousled his hair and praised his monster hunting work from that day. “Good boy, m’work! Er, I mean, good work, m’boy!” he had said, making Dipper smile so big and bright that the room had practically glowed with it. Bill’s insides certainly had.

Déjà vu, though, he had felt it then, too, remembering it. Almost exactly déjà vu … So Bill decided to follow the tangential thread of it now.

A young Ford, seventeen or eighteen, maybe—not yet out of high school. Sitting on the couch of his childhood home. A young Stan standing behind him, reaching over the couch to him.

“Oh, yeah … That’s why it’s so familiar; I watched it in Sixer’s memory and then more or less reenacted it for him. With him. Whatever, twice. Back when we were still working together, back when we were still friends …”

A young Ford flushed with simple happiness as Stan tousled his hair and praised his shipbuilding from that day. “You’re such a good cabin boy! Good work, me ol’ cabin boy!” he had said, making Ford smile so big and bright that—here the déjà vu ended and became simple memory— (“Pff! Why am I the cabin boy?” “Duh. ‘cause I’m the captain!” “Why do you get to be captain?” “Heh. ‘cause I can do this!”) Stan had swung over the top of the couch to drape himself across Ford. Pinning Ford down, while both brothers trashtalked and giggled and squirmed … and then gradually began to kiss …

“Was this the first time Sixer and me …? Ha! Yeah, it totally was! The very first time I set Sixer’s mindscape stage and played a part for him to work out some of his many, many issues. First of many … How’d it go, anyway? How’d we even get to this point? Need to rewind …”

Bill blinked, and the scene formed. Ford’s mindscape as it once had been: an endless field of strange but beautiful flower blossoms stretched to the horizon in every direction, with gleaming structures like the lovechildren of marble-cut temples and glass-and-steel skyscrapers rising in the distance-yet-closeness-of-thought like the aspirations of some new deity of science-fiction-becoming-science-fact, bold and untainted by the conformist conventions of old; swirling slowly overhead, so close one could have climbed up and touched, was a vault of stars, galaxies, quasars far larger than they appeared from earth and blazing so brightly that the field below them was as illuminated as a comfortable reading room; stairways made of books and journals ascended high to viewing platforms made of solid theories, equations, and blueprints all like shining neon signs.

Bill blinked again, and he saw himself chattering away about whatever had been their project. There was Ford, a late-twenties man and cutting-edge weirdologist in a weatherworn trenchcoat. Unusually subdued that day, though … Normally nigh manic with energy and enthusiasm, overflowing with ideas and theories and observations and cornball jokes to contribute to or even to drive the conversation … but not that day … No, that day, he barely listened to Bill or looked at the images and organizing visual aids Bill had mentally conjured for their brainstorm together. And when Bill turned to see why, he found Ford’s back was to him as he gazed away out across a sentimentally altered portion of the mindscape: salty sand strewn with bits of trash at the edge of a turbulent sea, all under clouds that were dusky and dusty from reflecting the dying daylight, and a sailboat at the center of Ford’s attention and therefore of his mind … listing and sinking into dark waters, the name on the prow all but lost to the waves—“Stan o’ War” now just “Stan”.

Bill watched the rest of what had happened as one might watch oneself on camera.

“Oh boy … I smell emotional issues …” he muttered before floating up beside Ford’s shoulder. “Got something on your mind, Fordsy ol’ buddy? Besides me, that is.”

“S-sorry, I just, um, got distracted,” Ford stammered apologetically. “I’ll try harder to focus. Won’t happen aga—”

“Because of your brother? It’s the anniversary of the day he got kicked out of the family, right?”

Ford gaped in shock for a moment. “… You … You know about that? But how?”

“For one thing, all the trash ‘round here is crumpled or torn up calendar pages for the same date. For another, I’m your Muse,” Bill replied, as though it should have been obvious. “I’m literally inside your head with all your memories at my fingertips, looking for anything I can use to help inspire your success.”

Blanching white, Ford asked, “All of them? You can s-see … all my memories?”

“Yep times a thousand! So I know you and your brother were—heh—close before that incident.”

Ford blushed.

“So no wonder you get distracted thinking about him today. Wasn’t that the last time you ever saw him?” Bill continued conversationally.

“Um, I … Maybe I m-might’ve seen him once after that. During my college graduation, but … Don’t know, honestly,” Ford admitted sadly. “Might’ve just imagined him being in the crowd.”

“Wishful thinking? ‘cause you got some stuff to get out of your system with him?” Bill waggled his eyebrow, making Ford blush a second time. Before he could respond, though, Bill suggested, “Y’know, I could help you unpack some of that emotional baggage you’re lugging around. Which’d help us get back to productive work sooner—get you from distracted back to tracted.”

“First of all, that’s not a word—”

“It is now that I’ve used it! Tracted, adjective, the state of being that comes after one has been distracted but is focusing once again.”

“Second of all … How could you help with that?”

“Why, with a little bit of roleplay. I know how much you love to roleplay, Fordsy ol’ pal.”

“I don’t know …” Ford said uncertainly. “This isn’t exactly a D&D&MoreD campaign. Besides, this is hardly an appropriate setting, and … well, no offense, but your voice and mannerisms aren’t exactly reminiscent of Stan (or most humans, for that matter). I doubt I could get into it.”

“Heh. You’re just saying that ‘cause you ain’t never seen what a good actor I can be. Goes with the territory of being a MASTER OF THE MIND! Watch this!” Bill clapped once, then suddenly multiplied into a dozen more Bills.

“Whoa! What the—”

From nowhere, the original Bill pulled a megaphone, a chair with the words “Director” and “Leading … Well, Not ‘Man’ Per Se, But Close Enough” on its back, and a thick script. “OKAY, YOU SUPER SNAZZY STAGECREW,” he projected through the megaphone. “LET’S GET THIS STAGE CLEARED AND READY FOR A NEW SCENE! LET’S MOVE! AND SOMEONE GET ME A TWO-CREAMS-ONE-SUGAR COFFEE AND A MAPLE LOG! What about you, Fordsy? You want anything? Same thing, yeah? DOUBLE THAT ORDER! ONE FOR ME, ONE FOR MY COSTAR!”

Slack jawed at all the activity flurrying around him—one Bill pulled a rope from nowhere, causing the seascape (while waves continued to toss, clouds continued to billow, and the ship continued to sink) to part down the middle like a theater curtain and swish away; another Bill pulled a massive pushbroom from nowhere and cleared away all of the beach (sand, trash, and salty odor) to leave a hardwood platform beneath; several other Bills were now wheeling away the endless fields of flowers that stretched to the horizon (plus the phantasmagorical buildings standing among them) like scenery backdrops painted on squeaky canvas frames—Ford could only mumble, “Costar?”

“Well, duh, Fordsy ol’ chum. We’ll be centerstage, you and me, and in the spotlight together—me as Stanly, you as yourself. If that doesn’t make us costars, I don’t know what does!”

“BOOOOOO!” another Bill shouted from behind them, seated in a newly revealed spectator section with boxes of popcorn. “Directors shouldn’t play parts in their own productions! That’s a crass and masturbatory act of egotism that invariably cheapens the production! BOOOOOO!”

“Just ignore heckling critic me,” the original Bill told Ford. “Now, speaking of the spotlight … LET’S GET THE LIGHTING AND SOUNDCHECKS DONE, MES! TIME IS MONEY! AND WHERE’S OUR COFFEE AND DONUTS ALREADY?! WHAT AM I PAING YOU FOR?!”

Yet another Bill came trundling up with a long rack of costumes that looked exactly like the contents of Ford and Stan’s old bedroom closet. While going through them, he pointed out, “You’re not paying us for anything, babygorgeous, because we don’t actually exist. We’re just visual constructs you conjured to represent the complex yet entirely abstract process of manipulating a mindscape into a specific scenario Stanford can experience (or reexperience in the case of actual memories) so it feels to him as if it was entirely real. This whole setting is, too. Also because you’re extremely melodramatic, overly theatrical, and crave being the center of someone’s awed attention, sugardumpling.”

“One more smart-alecky remark like that, and you’re fired!” the original Bill snapped.

“No! Please, angelpie, I need this job! I need the money, or they’re gonna break my legs!”

“Fine. Just go get the makeup equipment already. AND WHERE ARE WE ON THE LIGHTS?!”

Ford looked up to see a span of catwalks and electrical equipment overhead. The Bill up there gave a thumbs up. “Good to go, boss! Same with sound, too!”

A new Bill came running up with a platter. “Here’s your coffee and donuts, sir!”

“Freakin’ finally!” the original Bill exclaimed, passing over one of each to Ford before snatching the others for himself. “I’d have you dragged into the alley behind this soundstage and shot for taking so long, except we’re not actually in a soundstage and you’re just too darn cute to kill.”

“Oh, sir, you’re gonna make me blush!”

Taking a bite out of his maple log with his eyelid, the original Bill snapped, “Stop being so cute and go find something useful to do.” Then, turning back to Ford, he continued lightly, “Yep, costars, you and me! Collaborators! Partners in … What? There something on my face?”

With a gulp, Ford asked, “Is … Is that how you eat? With your eye?”

Bill smiled despite not having a mouth. “Only when I’m in polite company.” Then he took a sip of his coffee—a long, slow sip while looking right at his weirdologist friend (who spazzed reflexively at the sight of coffee washing into sclera). “But now that mes have cleared the stage, we should really pick the scene we’re gonna roleplay. So what you wanna do, Fordsy ol’ mate? Relive a memory, act out a hypothetical conversation/argument to get some words off your chest, or experience a fantasy in real-body-stimulating intensity? Whatever you want, I can do for ya.”

“I, um …” Shaking his head, Ford admitted, “There’s just … so much. When I think about him. About everything that happened then. And before. And after. And I … I just … can’t process it enough to … y’know, make sense of how I feel about it all? Gah! Can you understand that, Bill? The only thing I know for sure right now is … is I miss him … even if I don’t know what I’d do if I saw him right now …”

Bill blinked a bite off his maple log, then chewed thoughtfully, ignoring the other Bills (“Hey, guys, wanna see something funny? MacBeth!” “Don’t say that! It’s bad lu—” A sandbag smashed into that Bill from above. “Hehehehehehe! I got more!” Then he whistled sharply. “Argh! You can’t do that either, it’s also bad lu—” A light fixture exploded, blasting the Bill on the catwalk off so that he kersplatted onto the platform. “Hahahahaha! How about this one? Good luck during the performance!” “No, you fool, you’ll kill us all if you say—” “Guys, you think this pyrotechnic equipment still works?” a different, oblivious Bill asked right before pushing a button. The bad luck would’ve been spectacular had anyone paid attention.) now milling about the visual construct of an empty stage which represented a mindscape ready for shaping. Eventually, he suggested, “Tell you what, Fordsy ol’ comrade, let me choose for you this time. I think I know what you need right now to feel better, and it’ll be an actual memory of a good time you two had together. Something … positive and fun and a little whacky to help you get out of this slump. Whaddya say? Trust me enough to follow my lead in the roleplay?”

A glum shrug. A passive affirmation. “Sure, why not?”

And then original Bill was broadcasting through his loudspeaker, “OKAY, LOOK ALIVE, TRIANGULAR TROOP! LET’S GET THE STAGE SET FOR SCENE #618: ‘CABIN BOY AND CAPTAIN NOBEARD, THE COUCH PIRATE’!”

Ford blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I WANT IT READY TO PERFORM IN—”

“BOOOOOO!” the spectating Bill suddenly shouted, spraying popcorn everywhere. “That choice is a cliché and uninspired piece of saccharine hackery! Also, it’s practically meta-theater, which always sucks because only self-inflating, pomposity-spewing fartbags think it’s clever to make plays that are ham-fistedly obvious metaphors for making plays! BOOOOOO!”

“So it’s perfect for our director,” one of the Bills stage whispered, making the others giggle.

“I HEARD THAT!” the original Bill snapped. “DON’T YOU HAVE PROPS TO SET UP?! ACTION IN FIVE, MES! AND WHERE’S THE ME FOR COSTUME AND MAKEUP?!”

“Right here, angeldoll! And ready to get Starford suited up!” That Bill wheeled a vanity piled high with brushes, pencils, and cosmetics right to them. He then pulled an outfit off the rack, scrutinized it, put it back, pulled out another, nodded his approval, and zoomed over to slap it onto Stanford’s body. Right before assaulting his face with a blur of all the cosmetic products—powder, rouge, eyeliner, etc. All of it happened so fast Stanford didn’t even have time to protest, and when the air cleared and he stopped coughing, that particular Bill was adjusting a mirror before his face. “What do you think, honeydear? Don’t you just look divine?”

Breathless with astonishment, Ford touched first the mirror’s surface … then his own face … “Incredible!” he breathed. “I look seventeen!”

“If I did my job right, teddypearl, you don’t just look seventeen. Your whole body (or astral form dream body, technically, sweetiedumpling) should be seventeen down to the smallest of details. Now, if you want, I could also do your nails and hair so you look even more divine than you did at seventeen, darlingpeaches.”

“Nope, we want his ratio of divineness to undivineness to be exactly as it was then, thank you,” the original Bill dictated abruptly. “Now let’s get me suited up for—oh, Azathoth’samygdala!” Snatching up the megaphone, he bawled, “TVS GO IN FRONT OF COUCHES, NOT BEHIND, YOU IDIOTS! AND YOU’VE GOT THE BACKDROPS MIXED UP! C’MON, YOU MES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE MORE PROFESSIONAL THAN THIS!”

Ford tore his eyes from the mirror and looked onstage. The living room of his parents’ house was being formed by a bunch of Bills pushing frames of painted canvas (reproductions of the walls) and setting up prop after prop (a couch, a rabbit-eared TV, old chairs, side tables with doilies, framed photos, knickknacks, bric-a-brac, that hideous lamp with the more hideous curtain shade he had always wanted to smash to bits, etc.); it looked exactly as he remembered … No, it looked more accurate than he remembered … He could even smell the dusty, musty carpeting and hear the tacky windchimes outside the window …

“There, treasurebear, you look ready for your big part. And divine, too! Simply divine!”

“Thanks, me. Looks like you won’t be fired today,” the original Bill decided.

“I can’t believe you could recreate the old place. Every little detail—” Ford turned to Bill, then felt his knees buckled beneath him; he had to grab onto a corner of the vanity not to fall over. Standing before him in a dissipating cloud of face powder was the seventeen-year-old version of his twin brother. “… St-Stan?”

Bill grinned with Stanly’s cocky, crooked grin. “Or close enough. Oh, sorry.” Clearing his throat, he then repeated in Stanly’s husky voice, “Or close enough. Right, Sixer?”

Stepping forward, Ford laid his hands on the shoulders of the boy in front of him. They felt real. Solid and strong through the t-shirt, with the kind of ropey muscles regular boxing gave a person. Same for the arms and the chest, although there was a little pudge on top of the muscles there (just like Stan had … or had had the last time Ford had seen him for certain) thanks to a nervous tendency to overeat … It all felt so real … so achingly real …

“Done feelin’ up the merchandise yet, Sixer?” Bill-Stan teased. “I could flex for ya, if ya want.”

“How … How are you doing this?” Ford whispered, his voice almost trembling.

As one, all of the Bills dropped what they were doing and turned to face him, then clapped and spread their hands. A rainbow spread between every set of palms. “THROUGH THE POWER OF IMAGINATION, FORDSY OL’ COMPADRE! AFTER ALL, I AM YOUR MUSE!”

Fingers clenching into the fabric of the t-shirt, throat constricting, Ford said, “Stan, I … I …”

“You’re not gonna start blubberin’ on me, are ya, Sixer?” Bill-Stan asked coaxingly. “Not before all the fun even starts?”

“N-no … No, I’m in c-control. Ahem! Of myself.” Ford composed himself, feigned brushing some dust off his clothes, then resumed, “So, um, you said something about following your lead in a roleplay?”

Grinning more widely than before, Bill-Stan took him by the hand (sending a jolt of long ignored and even half-forgotten emotions through the weirdologist) and led him onstage …

The thing about a person’s mindscape (or about a person’s dreams, since they’re the same thing, essentially) is they’re completely immersive. To the brain, they’re almost as real as reality itself; every ganglia involved in processing sensory input for the one is equally involved with the other. Which explains why dreams usually feel real enough that a person can forget they’re dreaming. Which explains why a true master of the mind can manipulate a person’s mindscape enough that, with just the right triggering image (such as walking through a conjured doorway or stepping onto a conjured theater stage), the person can believe what they’re experiencing is real, and even actually find traces of the mental experience on their physical body afterwards.

Especially if the person really wants to dream, to believe, to be manipulated by the master …

That was why Ford knew with certainty that he was sweaty and dirty after hours of working on the Stan o’ War, knew with certainty he was trudging into the living room of his family home, and collapsed onto what he knew with certainty was a sagging couch likely as old as he was (seventeen years). He also knew with certainty that he heard the jangling of the house phone in the hallway, and then the voice of who he knew with certainty was his twin brother answering it. That knowing certainty was manifest in every gesture he made; it even shone in his eyes.

A moment later, Stan was leaning over the top of the couch. Sweaty and dirty, too, since he’d been working on the Stan o’ War, too. “Heh. You look beat, Sixer. But if anyone’s got the right, it’s you. I mean, after all that hard work today? And figuring out the waterproofin’ stuff, too?” Then Stan reached over the couch and tousled his brother’s hair. “I guess what I’m saying is … You’re such a good cabin boy! Good work, me ol’ cabin boy!”

Ford beamed with pleasure at the praise and the loving gesture, yet still retorted (because having a brother means living in a perpetual argument, at the very least as a matter of principle), “Pff! Why am I the cabin boy?”

“Duh. ‘cause I’m the captain!”

“Why do you get to be captain?”

“Heh. ‘cause I can do this!” And then Stan swung himself over the top of the couch and dropped down onto his brother, draping himself over his brother like a heavy, sweaty, noogying blanket. “How do you like it, cabin boy? Huh? I said how do you like it, nerd? No, wait, cabin nerd!”

“Ghaha! Get off me—haha!—you’re gross from the beach!” Ford half-spewed and half-laughed beneath his twin. He was pinned against the cushions now, squirming but unable to get free.

“Heh heh! You don’t get to give the captain orders, cabin nerd! That’s not how it works aboard this ship!”

“W-we’re—hehehe!—not even on a ship!”

“Sure we are! The S.S. Couch, and I just boarded it! And you!”

“You did not have permission to come aboard!” Ford giggled, still squirming, now trying to push his twin back with his hands.

But Stan caught them both at the wrists and pinned them against the armrest, too, bearing down with his whole body. “That’s ‘cause I’m a pirate captain! Arrrrr, me matey!”

“Pff! W-what do they call you?! Nobeard?!”

“That’s ‘Captain Nobeard’ to you, cabin nerd! And I’m gonna be lootin’ yer booty!”

Ford threw his head back and laughed at so corny a line. But the laugh turned to a surprised gasp when he suddenly felt his brother (on an impulse) press his lips against Ford’s throat. It was like being hit by a single raindrop right before a spark of lightning—a single spot of warm, wet skin, then an electric jolt through his brain and body that left him rigid. Or perhaps made him realize he had been rigid already? And that his brother’s counter-squirming had taken on a decidedly grinding motion … Or had it been a grinding motion already? Ford moaned, “Aaah, St-Stan …”

“I told you, that’s ‘Captain’ to you, me ol’ cabin nerd,” Stan countered into his twin’s neck. “And I’m gonna shiver yer timber.” With that, he gave an extra hard grind, groin against groin.

“Mmmmoses! Oh … B-but, wait … What if … Dad and Mom walk in on us … like this?” 

“Heh. You can be pretty dumb for a nerd, sometimes,” Stan teased. “They went to Grandma’s today, remember? And that was them on the phone just now, callin’ to say they made it there. Even if they head home right now, it’ll be at least two hours afore they get back. So relax, okay? Just … follow my lead …”

“Y-yeah, I can … Wait.” All at once, Ford stopped, because that phrase … He suddenly didn’t know with certainty what was really going on here, nor where he really was, nor even how old he really was. Intently, he peered at the face of the boy on top of him. Was there a golden gleam in his irises, where there should only have been brown? A twinkle in the eyes, but different than the twinkle normally there. He thought he could remember who this boy actually was. “… Bill?”

Stan grinned. “Only if you’d prefer havin’ a triangle in a tophat grind against you instead of your brother.”

Ford looked around, and remembered he was on a stage. A stage that had been set by multiple copies of Bill, and that he was now pinned beneath the original Bill who was mimicking his twin down to his cornball double-entendres, the smell of his sweat … and the exact length and girth of his hardon, currently pressing down on Ford’s own hardon (the thought of which made him blush a shade deeper than he already had been—did he really remember his twin’s member that well?). In the spectators’ seating, there was another Bill now distantly shouting, “Boooooo! You ruined the flow and the affect of the whole scene! The momentum’s gone and can never be gotten back! Boooooo!” and Ford found he desperately hoped that was not the case.

“You okay, Sixer?” Stan asked. No, not Stan. Bill. Bill mimicking Stan’s voice and manerisms. Bill mimicking Stan’s body so they could …

Ford cleared his throat. “Y-yes, I am. But, er, I just want to… to make sure that you are. This, uh, scenario doesn’t … doesn’t bother you? At all?”

“What? Why would … Oh!” Stan-Bill exclaimed suddenly. “You mean ‘cause we’re not just crossin’ a bunch of taboo lines in your meatbag culture, but went a mile past ‘em and are now buildin’ a small but charmingly perverted, summer cabin we can visit at our leisure?”

“I, um … suppose that’s one way of putting it …”

“Heh heh! It’s funny how awkward you are about this!” But before Ford could get defensive, Stan-Bill continued, “Sixer, I’m not human. I’m a Muse, here to inspire you to break through arbitrary human conventions (like the restrictive barriers they are) to something higher, purer, and truer. So all the arbitrary moral codes you meatbags make for yourselves, especially where sex is concerned? Don’t apply to me, don’t affect me. Whatever you desire, whoever you desire, however you desire (no matter how weird, complex, or how many parts it needs performed) I can play out for you here in your mindscape so well it will feel real. I can give you the psychological or sexual release you need to get tracted again on our oh so important work!”

Though overwhelmed by the possibilities, Ford still maintained, “That’s not a real word …”

“Like I said before, Sixer, if you wanna relive a memory, act out a hypothetical conversation or an argument with someone (like your brother or your parents or an ex or that one bald professor you loathed), or experience a completely new fantasy altogether … I’m down. Let’s do ‘em all.”

Ford gulped. “Y-you’re sure … it doesn’t bother you? At all? I mean, this is … er …”

Stan-Bill sighed in almost-exasperation. “Look, Fordsy ol’ friend, my true form doesn’t even have sex organs. Not that you’ll be able to tell when I change shape in your mindscape and go to town with pleasurin’ you, ‘cause I’m just that good an actor—can act like I’ve always had ‘em and got tons of experience usin’ ‘em to turn people specifically named Stanford Filbrick Pines into puddles of contented, post-coital bliss—and always happy to put on a show for a friend.”

Beneath him, Ford felt so turned on he was having a hard time breathing regularly.

“Plus, I come from a species that has roughly millions of genders, so homosexuality doesn’t bother me in the least. If anything, it radically simplifies things. You wanna get it on with a guy? I can do that. Two guys? Ditto. A guy and a gal at the same time? No prob. An entire roomful of different people? Sure, it’ll be a nice stretch of my talents. Something or somethings that aren’t remotely human? Well, if either of us can imagine it, I can make it in here for you to fuck.”

Beneath him, Ford felt so turned on that he was practically vibrating with excitement.

“And as for what you meatbags call ‘incest’, well,” Bill-Stan shrugged. “Far from the weirdest kink floatin’ around in the collective unconsciousness of humanity. But it is just weird enough, luckily, to keep me invested in any—heh heh��boldly transgressive or unapologetically perverse theatrical performances you might want to try here on the mindscape stage. So c’mon, brother,” he added emphatically, positively dripping Stanness now. “Just follow my lead … We got hours ‘til Dad and Mom get home …”

Beneath him, Ford felt so turned on that he was sorta surprised the couch hadn’t caught fire around the two of them. Another low moan escaped his lips as he felt Stan-Bill’s lips press against his throat again … as he felt Stan-Bill grind against his bulge again … as he felt Stan-Bill carry him back into a more fulfilling moment than the present reality could ever hope to offer …

“You like that, cabin nerd? Huh? You like when I do that to ya? Go on, say ‘Aye-aye, Captain’.”

Though his hands were still pinned against the armrest of the couch and his body born down into the cushions, Ford arched his hips into the grind.

“C’mon, cabin nerd, go ahead and say it … Become a part of my couch pirate crew …”

Giggling, Ford turned and offered himself up for a kiss. It was long and warm and wet and deep, and so very, very sweet. It left him breathlessly whimpering, “Mmm, Stan … Bill …”

“Who’s this Bill?” Stan-Bill asked teasingly. Then, as if to punctuate every following sentence, he humped slow and hard at the end of it. “Someone I otta be jealous of? Someone I gotta go beat up? Someone who’s gotta learn that you’re mine … my brother … my lover … and no one else gets to touch ya but me?”

“Ah! Yes!” Ford cried out.

And, distantly, the Bill in the seats shouted, “Boooooo! Going off script like this is for amateurs! Improv in an established piece is for hacks who can’t remember their lines! Boooooo!”

That was when Bill (not the original Bill playing Stan, nor any of the copies playing stagehands, but the real Bill in a clonesuit stretched out on the bed in the attic) snapped out of his fascination and decided it was time to stop reviewing memories for a while. Especially this one in particular. Not because it wasn’t nostalgic or entertaining or sexually titillating for him (it was very much), not because he couldn’t remember what had happened next (his recall was still just as perfect as the rest of him—heh heh!), but because …

Because it just wasn’t worth watching the rest. Both in Ford’s memory of the actual event with his brother, and in the slightly altered reenactment Bill had performed with Ford, it hadn’t been more than another minute or two of cornball dialogue, couch grinding, and rough kissing before they climaxed. And why not? Ford and Stan had been horny, pent up teenagers way back then … and Ford had been a horny, pent up adult back then (what with his tons of emotional baggage and sexual frustration) …

“Not worth getting wound up over,” Bill muttered to the cabin ceiling. “Not when jerking off won’t be enough to take the edge off the horniness I’ll feel afterwards … And besides, if I want to feel wound up and horny, there are much wilder memories I could perfectly recall than that. With Dipper or with Sixer …”

His hand came up wearing a sock puppet Mabel had made to look like his true form—or, at least, as much like his true form as a sock with a hand shoved in it could, (though, honestly, it looked less like a dapper triangle and more like the bastard lovechild that would result from a wild night of passion between him and Kermit the Frog)—and said, “Funny how you didn’t even realize how good a thing you had with ol’ Fordsy, isn’t it?”

“How do you figure that?” Bill asked his sock puppet. “Working and hanging with him was a ton of fun, and I missed the 79 Hells outta it after he sided with this mudball … Still do, actually …”

“I mean all that wild, limitationless, mindscape sex you had with him. Back then, for you, it was just the fun of weird playacting (and manipulating a gullible meatbag); you didn’t appreciate any of the physical side of it.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Of course, y’know, I kinda couldn’t appreciate it back then.”

“The beginning of the summer was a lot like that, too, with Dipper and Mabel and all the others,” the sock puppet continued matter-of-factly. “You didn’t appreciate any of the emotional side of spending time with them, what with how full of hate and plans for vengeance you were.”

“… No, I didn’t,” Bill admitted.

“All that time spent with them, and you didn’t even realize how good a thing you had.”

“… I kinda couldn’t appreciate all that back then, either, in my defense.”

“You could now, y’know.”

“What, you mean … relive the memories? Actually, that could be a fun way to pass the time,” Bill mused to himself. “Might not feel quite so bored or lone … Cthulhu’s cartilaginous cranium, I could go through all my memories with Ford! Maybe there’s something I filed away in there—something I didn’t think was important at the time, something that could spark another thought—that could help get me past the bubble!” he exclaimed, bolting upright. “And back to my Dipper!”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant …” the sock puppet pointed out.

But it was rather futile; Bill was on a role now. “The bumblr crowd could even help with this … Them asking the right questions might give me some direction, instead of just prospecting—”

“HEY! LISTEN!” the sock puppet shrilled. “I meant you could be having a good thing right now with all the people here at the Shack. Emotionally and such. Enjoying it fully. But you’re not. Even though you want to.”

Looking away from the reproachful, googly-eyed gaze, Bill muttered, “Kinda hard to with Ford setting such a grim mood for everyone here any time he walks in on me and someone else.”

“You’re wasting time,” the sock puppet stated irrefutably. “Like at the beginning of the summer, when you were too busy being … being not nice—being mean—to everyone, especially Dipper. Now you’re wasting time being bitter at Ford.”

“He’s wasting time being just as bitter at me!” Bill countered defensively.

“And when was the last time you really tried to do anything about that? Huh? When you bought everybody gifts, maybe, a few months ago?”

“… Honestly? I guess so, yeah.”

“Go try again. You wanted to, anyway, since you saw him in the woods crying ‘bout how much he misses the Twins, too,” the sock puppet affirmed. “It’s the reason you turned away from remembering that time on the couch before the climax, too; you’re not in the mood for sexiness, not deep down, but for sappiness. You can appreciate that emotional side of things now, so stop wasting time not enjoying ‘em.”

“What if … What if he doesn’t want to stop being bitter? What if he doesn’t want to move on?”

“Then at least you’ll have tried. You won’t be wasting time being bitter. And you get to spend more time perfectly recalling individual memories to see if you can find something helpful to escape, so win-win for you.”

Bill sighed. “I’d argue with you, but you are me, so I know I won’t win … Well, let’s go …”

[zephfair]

Day 28 AU ficlet dog walker

Day 28 Dog Walking AU

This is another very weak fill; I’m sorry. Only four more to go, but I’ve been putting more work into them so I hope to have them up by Friday.

Ichigo didn’t mind his part-time job, per se, but it definitely wasn’t his favorite. He wasn’t particularly fond of dogs, but answering the ad to become a dog-walker gave him extra spending money as well as the chance to be outside more.

It wasn’t awful. It was just the dogs themselves that made it difficult. Muffy, Buffy, Luffy and Huffy were the prize Chihuahuas of the Byakuya Kuchiki family, and every single one of them was a menace. Together with the two Shiba Inu belonging to Rukia, the daughter of the Kuchiki family, they kept Ichigo’s hands full.

They went in six different directions simultaneously. The Chihuahuas tried to fight anyone and any other dog that came within range. They loved to bark and charge at bicycles. They went batshit over joggers. They tried to kill Ichigo at least once a week in a concentrated effort of tripping, biting and attempted mauling. They managed to work up the Shiba Inu into a state nearly every day. And they peed about every two feet in order to mark their territory—which incidentally was every single inch they could see.

The only times they acted calmer was when Rukia’s fiance stayed with them, and his big dog, a mix of a dozen different dogs but definitely including pitbull and retriever, was so laidback and sweet. He merely panted at Ichigo and tried to sneak kisses when Ichigo wasn’t looking. He loved everyone and everything and put up with the unruly behavior of the tiny dogs with good-natured amusement. Ichigo would have taken him home in a minute.

As it was, Ichigo had to strap on harnesses, avoid piranha-like teeth, ignore the vicious growls and grumbles, untangle the leads, and get them all out the door. When the weather was cold, Byakuya demanded fuzzy coats on the dogs, and when it rained, Ichigo had to brave more chomping to pull on raincoats with hoods.

He really needed to demand a raise. In the meantime, he took leisurely strolls to the Byakuya-approved dog park with the manic mutts and cleaned up after them.

Of course the dogs didn’t always cooperate, but Ichigo figured it was good training for strength and endurance. And picking up after them taught...what? Patience? Humiliation?

The worst/best part of his day was getting to the dog park. Just outside the entrance to the park was a garage specializing in motorcycles, and every single time they trooped past, one of the mechanics was always outside smoking.

It actually made Ichigo wonder if the big blue-haired bastard even worked, since he also seemed to just happen to be standing outside the garage bays.

Ichigo was afraid it might have something to do with the very first day he’d been trying to wrangle all the dogs and had gotten tripped up in the tangles of leashes and little dogs yipping past his ankles. He’d wiped out right in front of the garage and twisted himself to avoid falling on any animals. Then he’d lain there and gotten nipped by one and licked in the face by two others.

Uproarious laughter from the open garage door made him struggle quickly to his feet, but he’d refused to look around. Ichigo had just clicked and cursed at the dogs and gotten them mostly all moving in the same general direction, down the street and away.

The next day it was drizzling, and Byakuya’s housekeeper presented Ichigo with a note that contained explicit instructions. He had to wrestle the dogs into rain coats, never mind that he didn’t even have a hood on his own jacket. The housekeeper silently offered him an umbrella, but seriously, how was he going to use that along with the leashes of seven dogs.

And he found out that picking up after them was worse in the rain, especially when the one Shiba Inu almost strangled him when the leash got around his neck while he was bent over and it pulled him onto his ass in a puddle.

So he was dripping, sore and frustrated already when he tried to get the dogs to the park.

Unfortunately, one of the motorcycles was just leaving the garage, and the owner tested its engine with hard revving before they screeched out.

The dogs went insane, the Shibas running around his legs, twisting the leashes. The Chihuahuas had banded together to declare war and rage against the machine. They vibrated and lifted into the air with the force of their homicidal barks. The mutt just sat down and scratched his ear.

More laughter came from the garage, and this time, Ichigo spared a second to glare in its direction as he called out to the dogs and tried to get them moving again before his anger turned to mortification.

That went on for weeks, and Ichigo lived for the days when he could hurry the dogs past the garage without anything more than a catcall from the hot blue-haired mechanic.

Ichigo wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking of him as “hot,” but it might have been on one particularly steamy day when the guy happened to have his overalls unzipped low and shrugged his arms out of the top. He just also happened to not be wearing a shirt underneath the overalls, and Ichigo had had to apologize to Muffy repeatedly when he stepped right on her paw because he was so distracted.

Then one day, the mechanic wasn’t standing up by the garage bays but was working on a bike in the parking lot. Ichigo covertly admired the muscles bunching in his back since he had his overalls pushed down and only a tank top on.

The dogs saw him and immediately spotted new prey, pulling so hard against the harnesses that the leads jerked in Ichigo’s hands. When they swarmed toward the man, he stood up, unfolding himself slowly until he loomed over the tiny dogs.

The man hissed at them, fucking hissed like a 6-foot something giant cat, showing teeth and everything. The dogs skidded to a halt, barreling into each other, and one yelped.

“How’d you do that?” Ichigo asked in wonder.

The smile also showed a hint of teeth. “You just have to let them know you’re the alpha. And you won’t put up with their shit.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo bristled at the implication that he was less than an alpha, whatever the hell that meant, “well you sound like a big cat.”

The guy walked up to him, right through the pack of terrified dogs, the smallest of which got behind Ichigo. He leaned over to Ichigo’s ear and said, “Meow.”

“You’re a freak. Come on, guys,” Ichigo turned and tried to make a dramatic exit that was completely ruined by the dogs behind him trying to scurry away while Zabimaru stood still in front of the guy and wagged his tail enthusiastically.

Ichigo left a note for the Kuchikis suggesting another dog park, even though it was halfway across town.

Fingers crossed, he found out the next afternoon that Byakuya was stuck in his ways and insisted on him taking the darlings to the same park they ruthlessly terrorized. Ichigo girded his lions and obeyed.

At least the sun was shining, and the dogs seemed more interested in sniffing out the fresh air after the rain than chasing after debris and garbage. He got them down to the last block without as much hassle as before and really hoped they would just march on past the garage.

A low but piercing whistle drew his attention to the garage where the cat man was standing and smoking. Two of the Chihuahuas started barking, but the others all ignored him except for the mutt who offered another tail wag.

“You’ve got them trained now,” he yelled. “Maybe you could hook ‘em to a wagon, let them pull you.”

Ichigo switched around the leashes so he could free up a middle finger to give the man and proceeded without further comment.

That summed up their interactions for a while. They guy would stand and watch, sometimes taunt them. Ichigo would either ignore him or occasionally favor him with an obscene gesture, if the dogs really had him frustrated.

When it got cooler, Ichigo had to wrestle and dodge teeth and hold onto squirmy bodies to put on little fuzzy sweaters.

The mechanic hooted with laughter when he saw them coming. “You ever do anything besides walk these ‘dogs’?” he called out.

Ichigo was offended by the air quotes.  “What do you think they are?”

“Rats in coats,” he said promptly. “The big red one’s not too bad. But I’m not a dog person.”

“You’re definitely a cat,” Ichigo agreed, and the guy just grinned at him.

Ichigo worked on witty comebacks that night, but it figured that the mechanic wasn’t there the next day. Ichigo was able to take a deep breath and didn’t have to hunch his shoulders as he let the dogs pull him past the garage.

They even had a relatively uneventful time at the dog park, and they were all calm enough to walk home without incident. Ichigo got all the dogs unhitched and the water bowls filled and left.

He was walking down the street from Byakuya’s building when a motorcycle zoomed past then braked hard and did a U-turn much to the displeasure of the cars coming the other way.

It pulled illegally up to the curb where Ichigo was walking, and idled until he reached it. “Wanna ride?” the blue-haired mechanic asked as he took off his helmet.

“No,” Ichigo almost shouted when he saw who it was.

“You don’t like bikes?”

“Yeah, no, I just don’t like you.”

“I’m hurt.” The mechanic turned off the engine and sat there holding his helmet. Ichigo thought that he didn’t look very wounded. But he was looking Ichigo up and down. “So you’re not just the dog nanny?”

“I’m a dog walker,” Ichigo corrected then wondered why the hell he even cared.

“Whatever,” the mechanic reached behind himself and unstrapped another helmet before offering it to Ichigo. “You sure you don’t wanna ride somewhere? You like coffee?”

Ichigo blinked at he non sequitur but said, “I like coffee.”

“Get on. I know a good place.”

Ichigo’s reluctance had more to do with the broad back and the narrow hips he’d have to hold on to rather than any innate fear of motorcycles. Not that he trusted the man any more than the sleek, sexy machine he rode so carelessly.

The guy threw him the helmet and Ichigo made his choice, strapping it on then scrambling on behind. He tried to find a safe handhold, but the way the guy revved the engine then pulled right into traffic made Ichigo give up propriety and hug his arms around the mechanic’s waist.

He took him to a place Ichigo didn’t recognize. When they walked in, it was decorated very … cutesy, Ichigo would have to say, and looked like something Yuzu would have enjoyed, definitely not the kind of place the big mechanic would frequent.

But two of the servers greeted him by name, and the mechanic waved them off and showed Ichigo to a table.

That was when Ichigo realize there were cats all over the place. Cats on the chairs, cats on the couches, in the window and it clicked. “Oh my god, is this a cat cafe?”

“You’re quick,” the mechanic said snidely. One of the biggest, fluffiest cats walked right up to him and rubbed across his shins, then stood up and butted his leg. His long fingers stroked the cat’s head and scritched its chin. Ichigo looked on in wonder.

Especially when all the other cats seemed to realize the mechanic was there, and started swarming toward him. Soon there was a ring of meowing cats trying to get to him and totally ignoring Ichigo.

“What, do you carry catnip with you all the time?” Ichigo asked in amazement.

“It’s my natural animal magnetism.” He stepped over to Ichigo but the cats didn’t follow. In fact Ichigo watched in horror as several of them laid their ears back and hissed at him, the biggest fluffy one actually batting at him with its paw.

“Why don’t they like me?”

“You smell like those mongrels.”

Ichigo sniffed himself stealthily but the mechanic saw and laughed at him. “Gonna have to wash the stench of dogs off you.”

“Why’d you bring me here? To get me scratched?” Ichigo watched the cats almost fighting for the guy’s attention, and he was just a little bit jealous.

The mechanic shrugged. “They’ve got good coffee. And desserts. Now sit.”

Ichigo was the only one who obeyed, then his face reddened, and the mechanic laughed and slung himself into a chair opposite. As a server bustled over and took their order, Ichigo found out his name was Grimmjow, he loved motorcycles, and his sister was the owner of the place which was how he knew about it.

Ichigo almost laughed when the fluffy white cat with black ears and neck perched in his lap, vibrating with the force of its purrs, and Grimmjow petted it automatically. “You look like a bad Bond villain,” Ichigo joked.

Grimmjow smiled slowly. “I would be a very good Bond villain,” he said and gave an evil laugh that did things to Ichigo’s spine.

“I believe it,” Ichigo buried his embarrassment in a delicious piece of cake. “This is really good actually.”

“Told ya so. I just keep telling Nel that they’ll get more clients if they change the place up a little. It’s a bit frou-frou,” Grimmjow made a hand motion Ichigo didn’t understand. It was only slightly confused by the yellow tabby kitten that had climbed up onto Grimmjow’s lap but not stopped and continued to his shoulder. It poked its nose in his ear.

“You’re going to have a cat for a hat,” Ichigo told him.

Grimmjow shrugged carefully so not to dislodge the kitten. “Teaches them climbing skills.”

“I’m sure you’re an excellent teacher. Do you also teach them how to kill?”

“They’ve got that down already. Cats are apex predators.”

“In tiny fuzzy bodies.”

“Better than those furry pocket pets you walk.”

“They’re not my fault,” Ichigo argued. “It’s just my job. Although Zabimaru is cool.”

“Dogs are dumb.”

“That cat on your lap is licking its own balls,” Ichigo pointed out.

“Wouldn’t you, if you could reach?”

Ichigo immediately blocked out all notions of Grimmjow and balls. “I don’t need to know about your free-time hobbies.”

Grimmjow laughed. It startled Ichigo but the cats didn’t seem to mind. They finished their coffee and pastries, and one of the servers pressed two takeout containers on them, with the assurance that the owner would insist if she hadn’t been away.

Ichigo reached out to help Grimmjow peel cats off him, but they hissed at him again and he narrowly missed getting scratched. Grimmjow just chuckled and told the cats to move, and they did, eventually, so they could sneak out of the cafe without anyone trying to follow.

“Which way you headed? I’ll give you a lift.” Grimmjow hefted the spare helmet and offered it back to Ichigo.

“Home,” Ichigo said. “But I don’t mind walking. It’s not far.”

“Come on, you get enough walking with those monsters.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to take you out of your way.”

“Well, fine, if I can’t convince you.” Grimmjow moved closer and looked down at Ichigo from the scant couple inches that separated them.

Ichigo wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he stood his ground, damned if he were going to back down.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” Grimmjow said unexpectedly.

“What could top this? A zoo?” Ichigo asked sarcastically.

Grimmjow shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind. Or dinner. Or I can take you for a ride. On my bike,” he grinned.

“That might be, I, uh, okay.” Ichigo bumbled but stood his ground.

Grimmjow leaned in and Ichigo held his breath. Grimmjow just turned to his ear and said lowly, “Talk to you tomorrow when you come through with your parade.”

Ichigo pulled back so he could see Grimmjow’s grin clearly. “Are you just going to make fun of me every day?”

“Was planning on it,” Grimmjow agreed. “It’s my daily entertainment.”

“You’re a dick.”

Grmmjow reached out and put his thumb on Ichigo’s lower lip, pulling it down gently. When Grimmjow didn’t move any more, Ichigo did, calling his bluff and kissing him. Only Grimmjow’s thumb was still between them, but once he moved it and opened his mouth, things went much better. Ichigo clutched his back until a honking horn from the street made them break apart, but not before he definitely felt a lick of hot tongue on his bottom lip.

“Interesting,” Grimmjow said, studying him.

“Er, you didn’t want me to...” Ichigo trailed off in humiliation.

“No,” Ichigo’s heart sank until Grimmjow rubbed his cheek against his and whispered directly into his ear, “I just figured it would take a lot longer for you to loosen up and admit you wanted me.”

“You’re so cocky, how do you even fit your ego in your helmet?”

Grimmjow smacked a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not the only thing I got that’s big. If you’re not coming with, I’ll go. See you tomorrow.”

Ichigo watched him ride away, his heart racing and his lips still tingling from the kiss. He had to admit, he certainly wasn’t expecting to catch a cat but he definitely didn’t mind.

* I joke about Chihuahuas with the greatest love because my baby was one. She was also the angriest terror on four legs and lived as long as she did merely out of spite. She was the best. She hated me, hated other animals, hated people. She was an inspiration. :*)