#welcome home stitches and needles au

[jinglebriochebun]

Forest trail🍃

SAN!Wally usually likes taking walks behind the old studio!

He discovered the trail one day when he accidentally fell out of one of the second level windows, and tumbled into a bush. He likes following and going down to the creek where all the frogs are!

[shootingstarpilot]

okay listen. listen. i'm sorry, i had to get this out of my head, it's been haunting me and i want to get back to working on the next proper chapter-

the mimic lives au.

mimic is brought into the fold without question, of course. and needle- oh, needle's borne witness to the nightmares that force helix awake, shaking-not-screaming, and he knows enough-

so he makes mimic a voice.

it takes him just over a week to record the entire gbs dictionary. he breaks it down, keeps it alphabetical so it's easier to find the words. dictionaries of other languages are on the list. needle thinks maybe mimic can pick and choose which ones to prioritize later. they'll have time.

(they'll have time, isn't that a novel thought-)

but the dictionary is only part of it. there are plenty of manufactured voices out there already, after all.

the datapad becomes needle's newest conversational partner. he sets it up when he's on his own and lets his train of thought derail. spinning out stories both real and fantastical. drawing out threads until they reach the boiling point of absurdity and send him into a fit of giggles. he repeats the stories he'd told mimic just that afternoon, tells him about the jedi, about the temple, about making their own home. then he remembers what helix had said about mimic wanting to be a pilot, and goes and bullies comet into educating him on starfighters. he recites his lessons to the camera each evening in the moments of stolen solitude he can squirrel away before one of the others comes looking for him.

"it's like learning another language," he says, and wags a finger at the camera. "you're welcome."

needle gifts it to mimic a week after they arrive at the temple with a wireless earpiece to match. no pressure, of course, he says, grinning, just thought it could be a good resource to have, words to borrow at your fingertips, but i know i'm only tolerable in small doses, so-

he squawks when mimic's hug lifts him clear off the ground.

anyway. so. you see my vision.

helix jumps a mile when he first hears needle's laugh in mimic's mouth. stitch yells at needle for a bit about talking so much, needle, is this why your voice was so hoarse- and then restricts him to tea for four days until he's sure his throat has healed. sometimes it's too much, and mimic will stick his earpiece to the fridge and borrow words spoken right in front of him until his brain stops buzzing-

but it works. they work.

and then.

it's a few months in. they're comfortable. they're setting down roots.

then one night needle doesn't come home.

helix doesn't wait to raise the alarm. needle doesn't spend every night home, but he's good about comming when he'll be staying elsewhere. he knows helix is struggling with letting them leave his line of sight.

and now he's gone. and he didn't comm.

the first three days stretch into a week.

then a second week.

then a month.

and now, the vision that has been HAUNTING ME-

helix, clutching mimic's datapad, sitting on the edge of his bed.

the lights are low. his eyes are red.

he hits play.

"-ah, i love them," needle says, laughing. the laugh stretches into a yawn-

(that holds for one, two, three seconds, helix knows it now by heart-)

a knock at the door sounds in the video. needle hunches his shoulders, grimacing- his eyes are dancing, he's not annoyed, not really-

"be right out!" he calls, and then- helix's voice on the other side-

"get your beauty routine under control!"

needle waits until his footsteps have vanished before turning back to the camera-

(six footsteps before they fade enough to become inaudible- helix has counted them so many times-)

"i don't need one," he says, and winks at the camera- his eyes are shining, bright and happy- "he's just jealous all of this is effortless. night, mimic. talk to you in the morning."

the video ends.

helix sits in the dark.

after a moment, he taps at the datapad again.

"ah, i love them," needle says. his laugh- snorting, open, happy-

(one-two-three for the yawn-)

helix hits pause. rewinds.

"i love them," needle says.

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

"i love them."

"i love them."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You set the icing bag down and step back. You press your hands against the front of your apron as Thor shifts closer to the counter. You watch him nervously as he turns the tray by the corner and considers your work. Each cookie is a variation of the cross-stitched them. The most detailed shows roses, while the others are intricately lined with grids with scalloped edges. 

He hums and sucks his teeth. You cringe and push your arms down straight, overly aware of yourself and your body. You should at least try to hide your desperation. His cheek dimples and he smiles as he faces you. 

“When can you start?” He asks. 

You nearly sway. You can’t believe it. You’re misunderstanding him. You shake your head, “pardon?” 

“You do good work, so... I’d like to hire you,” his tone is jovial. 

“Right, uh, when... when could I start?” You scrunch up your fists as you feel your insides buzzing. This can’t be real. It’s so sudden. Too good to be true. 

“If I’m being honest, right now,” he turns his large palms out, “however, there is the matter of paperwork and all that.” 

“Right,” you nod. 

“Tomorrow?” He suggests, “bring in a blank check and I can send the forms you need to fill out tonight. Is that too soon? Am I too desperate?” 

You almost laugh as he asks the questions in your own head. You let out a breath. It’s real! 

“Sure, that sounds good,” you agree.  

“Then I suppose that means you’re hired,” he announces and offers his hand, “welcome to the team.” 

You look at his thick fingers before you reach for them. You shake his hand, his covering yours entirely, and he clings for just a minute before he releases you. 

“I’ll pack these up to go,” he spins and marches across the kitchen. He takes out a square box and returns to the counter, “you can take them home to your sister.” 

“Uh, oh, thank you, you don’t have to do that.” 

“Please, a little celebration,” he says as he uses a rubber spatula to transfer the cookies, “I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear the good news.” 

“Ah, yeah,” you wring your hands then stop yourself. “Thanks.” 

“Of course,” he closes up the box and holds it out. “Tomorrow at six? You can open with me.” 

“Sure, I can make that work,” you smile, trying not to let your doubts break through. That might be a problem for Delaney. 

🍰

You put the box down on the table as Delaney sits in her recliner. She clacks the long needles together as she grumbles at her latest project. She gave a curt grunt at your entrance; she must be fighting another stitch. 

“Why don’t you grab your frame?” You suggest. 

“Bored of it,” she shrugs as you approach, “you bring me goodies?” 

She peeks over her shoulder towards the table. 

“Yep. Cookies,” you answer, “owner was really nice. Let me take them.” 

“Oh yeah? So...” she looks up at you, “how long til you know?” 

“I already do,” you can’t help a large grin, “I got it.” 

“You got it!” She shoves aside her knitting, “that’s...” she grunts as she pushes herself to the edge of the chair. She waves you away as you try to help, “amazing.” 

She stands and turns to you, pulling you into a crooked hug. You embrace her, your heart beating with joy. You haven’t been this happy in forever. You haven’t seen her this excited in just as long. 

She lets you go and to your surprises, stays standing. She groans as she stretches her arms and shifts around. She rolls her walker away from the side of the chair and leans on it. She’s not moving too bad. She wheels around you to the table and you follow. 

“There is one thing. I have to be there at six,” you explain, “so I might have to get you up early--” 

“Uh uh, I’m not getting up before sunrise,” she scoffs as she flips open the lid of the box, “I can get myself up.” 

“Right, I know, Deli, but if you need anything, you can call--” 

“Hey,” she takes a cookie out and considers it, “you need this job.” Her mouth slants as she looks at you, “we both need you to have this job. I’m not stupid,” she glances back at the cookie, “this is really cute. You did this?” 

“Uh, yeah, part of the interview,” you say, “it was... different. Nice place though. Family business, I think? His daughter works there.” 

“Ah, some old dude, huh?” Delaney angles herself to sit on the dining chair with her special cushion. “Fun.” 

“I guess he’s older. Big.” 

“Fat?” She chuckles. 

“Don’t be mean,” you shake your head, “tall... and a bit... pudgy, I guess.” 

“Huh, well, that’s not too bad. Better than some slave driver. Can’t be too bad if he gives you free cookies.” She takes a bite and her eyes nearly roll back as she hums, “oh my god!” She says through a mouthful and swallows, “these are so good. Have you tried one yet?” 

“No, I... my stomachs all knotted up.” 

“You got it, relax. Have a cookie before I eat them all,” she shoves the box towards you. 

“Alright,” you take one and nibble along the edge. You take a large bite as the sweetness crumbles onto your tongue. You cover your mouth as you nearly moan. She wasn’t being dramatic. “Oh god.” 

“Right?” She breaks off another piece, “this is like sex in my mouth.” 

“Ew,” you scrunch your nose up at her. 

“What? I ain’t no prude,” she scoffs, “actually, I've been talking to this guy online.” 

“Del,” you warn her. 

“I’m an adult,” she snaps. 

“I know,” you say, “I’m not saying anything except be careful. I remember Colin.” 

“Mm,” she frowns, “so do I. Jackass.” She reaches for another cookie, “you better bring home more of these.” 

“Uh huh,” you swipe the box towards you and close it up, “and you better slow down. You haven’t even had dinner.” 

“You are such an old lady,” she whines. 

“One of us has to be the mature one,” you sniff. 

“That’s fine. I like being the fun one,” she chortles and takes a massive bite, “mph, I could live off of these.” 

[sleepingdeath-light]

human au + sentient puppet reader hcs ; wally darling

requested by ; suninwalls (14/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; wally darling

outline ; “Hello! Unfortunately, I was also tapped in a underground concrete box by those puppets. I can't leave! Can I ask for Human!Wally and puppet!reader (a little switcheroo). How would he deal with a sentient or hunted puppet that he or someone else brought to his house. Have a great day!✴️🌟”

note ; i need to refresh myself on the lore after this, but since this is a complete role shift au it shouldn’t be too badly ooc

warning(s) ; human & puppeteer au, mostly fluff!

though your friendship had started off on a… rough note to say the least, once wally has gotten used to the whole ‘sentient living puppet’ thing, the two of you became as thick as thieves

(after all, puppeteer or not, most people would panic if the puppet they just bought from an auction suddenly sat up and started talking to them of their own accord — arguably, if anything, wally handled the whole thing quite well by pushing through his fear to introduce himself to you and ask you about yourself)

whenever any of your stitching becomes loose or one of your button eyes falls out, wally is always there with a needle and thread to do some last minute repairs — he’s not at poppy’s level of mastery over textiles, but he knows just enough of the basics to keep you healthy

he’s brought you on the ‘welcome home’ set a couple of times when you’ve complained about being bored when he’s left you home alone, and you’ve been incorporated into a couple of episode sketches here and there — typically to teach a lesson about empathy, self acceptance, or something else along those lines to their young audience

(it’s always a good laugh, even if it is a bit strange for you to watch your fellow puppets get human limbs, or whole humans in some cases, shoved inside of them in order to bring them to life — like you know they aren’t alive like you, but it’s still a deeply disturbing thing to witness)

(wally has also had to pretend to be your puppeteer to hide your sentience before, which earned him plenty of praise for his vocal range and a very stern talking to from you about warning you before grabbing you by the hemming — you forgave him, obviously, since he’s your dearest friend and the absolute most, but you’ve never let him live it down)

when he’s not working on set, he’s up in his workshop painting something or another (a trait he shares with his most well known character, which you never fail to joke about) — most of the time he just paints whatever comes to mind, other times he’ll start painting you because your puppet proportions are so unusual to him that he can’t help but try and capture whatever thing you’re doing at that moment

his close friends and fellow puppeteers are the only other people who know the extent of your sentience, and they’ve all readily accepted you into their friend group — for better or for worse

for example, julie and poppy are forever planning and crafting up new outfits for you to wear (including a recreation of the wally puppet’s outfit which everyone seemed to find rather amusing) and making sure all of your materials are well taken care of, whilst barnaby is someone who is quick to rope you in to whatever prank he’s about to pull on your dearest human companion — you never really know what you’re going to experience from one day to the next, but you wouldn’t have it any other way

[mysticeclipses]

Inky Threads

Chapter 3: A Friendly Talk

Real World AU by @chez-cinnamon Welcome Home by @partycoffin

“Hello? It’s just me Rei, is it alright if I come back in?” The shop owner’s voice broke through the silence, bringing Poppy out of any thoughts that could’ve covered her mind, turning around to face the door before finally speaking up. “Yes, yes, it’s alright to come back in. I’ve finished my phone call.” The door opened with a slight creek, and Rei’s head popped through the opening before she stepped the rest of the way in, black and white curls shifting across her face as she closed the door once more and picked up the slightly steaming cup to take another sip. “I’m assuming your...whoever is on their way to come get you?” Rei asked with a raised eyebrow, receiving a small nod in return, another smile appearing on her face as she slipped into one of the chairs surrounding the table in the middle of the room. She seemed to gesture to the other chairs around the table as she continued sipping on her drink, green eyes staring gently back at Poppy’s own dark brown orbs. “Please, please, take a seat. I don’t want you standing around like this until you’re taken back home. If nothing else, you could spare me a short conversation during your wait. I’d like to try and get to know the partridge that suddenly wandered into my shop on a random Thursday.” There was a clear expression of intrigue on Rei’s face as she waited to see if Poppy would take up her offer for a simple conversation, and for some reason, Poppy found herself drawn to talk with this woman. If nothing else, it was to try and repay Rei for the kindness that had been offered with no hesitation, so Poppy took a seat opposite of her after a bit of standing around once again.

“So...what exactly do you do here, Rei?” Poppy asked after a moment of silence, which seemed to catch Rei off guard, the woman blinking a few times before she seemed to shake off the shock and cleared her throat. “Well, I’m the main owner of Devilish Designs, and I’m also the seamstress. So I do the majority of the day-to-day business, but I’m also the one responsible for all of the garments you saw in the main room, and I do personal commissions for clothing as well. What you see on the floor is often replicated and occasionally altered based on client comments, but most everything I commission is a one of a kind design, even though I do keep all the drawings and measurements on file just in case.” Poppy was definitely surprised by this. Every piece of clothing she had seen out there was made by Rei? All by herself? The young woman was very talented, she had such sewing skills that Poppy couldn’t compete with her, and that was saying something considering how torn up her neighbors clothes could get. Maybe she could ask for some tips, but would Rei even be keen to share her knowledge with someone she had just met, much less Poppy herself? Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask, and Poppy didn’t know if she would ever get to see Rei again once Fionn came to grab her.

“I know...I know this is coming out of the blue Rei, but...do you think you could maybe teach me...some sewing techniques while I’m here?” Poppy asked after talking a moment to muster up the courage to do so, a few drops of ink slipping from her wings as she waited for some sort of a response. Rei seemed to just be staring at Poppy in silence before bringing the cup to her lips and quickly finishing the drink inside, tapping her nails against the porcelain before she finally broke the silence. “I don’t see why not. We have quite a lot of time on our hands. Grab whatever fabric catches your eye while I grab my needles and thread.” A small smile found its way onto Poppy’s beak from hearing Rei accept the offer, getting up from the table as she surveyed the vast array of fabrics all across the room, soon deciding on a simple roll of white cotton fabric so the stitch patterns would be easier for her to see. The table was set with a section of the fabric, a pin cushion full of needles of various lengths, some thick black thread, and a book titled ‘Basic and Complex Stitches for Beginners and Experienced Sewers’ for some good old-fashioned sewing lessons. They started with the basics, such as Rei giving Poppy a few tips on how to perfect her running stitch, basting stitch, and cross stitch, before moving on to stitches that Poppy had only ever heard of. There was the backstitch, the slip stitch, and even the blanket stitch; techniques Poppy had never gotten the chance to learn since there weren’t any books on how to do them in the neighborhood.

Thank goodness the book had pictures to describe each step in the sewing process, as Poppy wouldn’t have stood a chance without them, and that’s with Rei’s help. Sure, her stitches weren’t perfect on her first few attempts, not by a long shot, but Poppy found herself enjoying Rei’s guidance throughout it all. In fact, Poppy was so caught up in what she was doing that she didn’t realize how much time had passed until the door was thrown open, Fionn’s voice breaking the peaceful silence that had filled the back room. “Poppy! Poppy! Where are you?! We’re going home before something else happens and I lose track of you for the second time today!” Fionn was loud, very loud, and it didn’t seem like Rei enjoyed that very much seeing as her face contorted into something that could only be described as a mix of annoyance and irritation. “Well, it seems as if you’re being beckoned home by a...rather abrasive voice. Strangely good timing too, as I need to get ready to open up shop in a bit. I’ll clean up while you get all your coverings back on.” Rei brushed a few strands of hair out of her face as she got to work putting all of her sewing supplies away, allowing Poppy to finish the last slip stitch she was working on. Poppy made quick work of getting Fionn’s disguise back on, just in time too, as Rei had finished putting the fabric roll back on the shelf before heading to the door. “Come, I’ll see you out Poppy. I do need to discuss a few things with the...lovely individual that just shouted in my store, but don’t worry, it’s nothing you need to fret about.” Rei said with a bit of a strained tone towards the end of her sentence, but it was barely detected by Poppy as she left the back room, watching as Fionn searched the store before finally spotting Poppy and Rei.

“Poppy! God damn it, there you are! I was about to start turning this place upside down if I didn’t find you in the next minute!” “I certainly hope you’re being sarcastic about such a thing, otherwise we would have a much bigger problem on our hands.” Rei piped up as she moved to check the time on the grandfather clock behind the counter, her eyes occasionally flicking towards Fionn as he fussed over Poppy for a bit, soon letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and turned to face Rei. “Listen, thanks for taking care of Poppy while I got here, lemme give you some cash to make up for the hassle and to deter you from calling the police.” Fionn didn’t even wait half a second before pulling out his wallet and rifling around for some bills before Rei put her hand up to stop the man, leaning against the counter as she eyed him up and down a few times. “There’s no need for any monetary compensation, though we do need to discuss the subject of payment for some of my merchandise being broken.”

[achairwithapandaonit]

Tag Game: Ten First Lines

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

tagged by @aobawilliams

1) Finny can’t get her words out of his mind even weeks later.

2) A detective is a person who investigates and solves crimes. A great detective is something more than that. They’re someone fantastical, right out of a novel, who sweeps into the scene and with just a look deduces everything.

3) The bento box weighs heavy in his hands. Izuku peeks inside to see hard boiled eggs, sliced cucumber, and octopus sausages. Stomach lurching, he’s quick to close the lid and set the container in the middle of the bench he’s sitting on, between himself and All Might. He folds the bento cloth carefully and puts it there too.

4) Time spent with the director is hard to find these days. It’s an hour of downtime at the agency spent lying upside down on the sofa in Fukuzawa’s office, the ends of his hair touching the floor and his feet hooked over the back of the sofa as he plays on his DS. It’s a long day, where Ranpo hangs around past closing time to accompany Fukuzawa back to his home uninvited. 

5) It’s hard to stitch up a wound one-handed. You can’t thread the needle by yourself, because you need one hand to hold the needle and another to hold the string, and once it’s threaded, you have to go as slow as you can, pushing the needle through flesh with as much precision and care as possible. Once that’s done, you can’t even tie the thread off by yourself.

6) Giyuu returns to him with slit pupils and blackened claws for nails. He stares at Urokodaki from just outside the temple grounds, eyes an ice cold glacier, body limp and still as if he is a spectre. Drool drips from his mouth, a low growl emits from his throat, and his fingers clench on nothing.

7) “What are you doing?”

8) Oda Sakunosuke can say with confidence that he has never met anyone as clever as Edogawa Ranpo before. His eyes see through everything and his brain works twice as fast as any other, making almost every situation one of boredom and frustration for him. With every job they accompany Fukuzawa on, Ranpo walks into the room and deconstructs would-be crimes like a starved dog catching its teeth on fresh meat.

9) The thing is, Shiho had always known. She’d been aware. Once she left the Organisation, she’d have nowhere else to be.

10) The warehouse he’s been lured to is dark and cavernous. A single sound can be projected across it in a second, like a gunshot in an empty room.

this is meant to be wips right and not posted?? anyway here u are. a lot of them aren't ones i have any interest in continuing (tho digging up that shiho one again has me salivating over the au like i wish so so hard it wasn't so hard to write. aoba you know what i'm talking about. i want it so bad but it's so hard). also rip to my longest current wip that makes me go the most insane having one sentence to open it (number 7, this is to you).

and umm like usual i won't tag anyone but anyone's welcome to take this as an opportunity to play the tag game

[hellinglasses]

Hello!!! I am infinitely curious about all of these, but will restrain myself to two:

holiday shenanigans for polycules and mamas

that lilo and stitch au that grew out of my control

Thank you so much or playing!!!

@blackberrywars​ thank you so much for sending this and here is the holiday shenanigans part and also be welcome to that lilo and stitch au that grew out of my control!! we have found family and also regular family that is also quite close and a complete disregard from what tolkien would think of this!! it's fun!!

also it's important to say that this is heavily influenced by beloved fandom tropes in the silmarillion fandom i could not find to link the origin of, including that caranthir knits, the pointing out the implications of naming your son something that means third finwë (after you and your dad) when you got two younger brothers, realization that findekáno e kanafinwë are pretty much the same name, this particular take in caranthir's affinity for business

so we have melkor!! the story starts when he gets arrested for illegal scientific experimentation. he gets caught creating this creature, carcharoth, which in tolkien works is descibed as a werewolf but tragically involves very little were-ing. so of course, by all intents and purposes, we're treating it as a very large alien doggo with the sharpest teeth. said shap-toothed doggo has, in fact, escaped

melkor gets cut a deal, though: he can get a reduced sentence in a not-so-horrible intergalactic prison if he helps in the capture of his creation, which, as the tracking of the escape pod used is appointing, is headed to arda (which by all intents and purposes, we're treating like modern day earth)

are they sending melkor alone to arda to retrieve carcharoth? hell the fuck no, much like lilo and stitch, we're getting a pleakley to this jumba and it's going to be just as queer as it should!! meet mairon, he works for the galactic federation's office of singular affairs and he's responsible for seeing to it, quietly navigating arda's society in search for carcharoth and making sure melkor doesn’t escape

they share close quarters while working the case!! they have to share an apartment!! they will bicker constantly!! they will also flirt!!

which brings us to the finwëan family (and holy shit that's a lot of people)

for context, here's a simplified family tree!! (these are all elves and the ages are, for all intents and purposes, absolutely for the sake of this)

also, for further context!! fëanor is the son of finwë and miriel, fingolfin and finarfin are the sons of finwë and indis

this is a story about love before everything else

fëanor and nerdanel, his wife, died in a car accident. he was a welder and an artisan and she was a sculpture artist who worked from home. they sold their artistic work on the main street fair on sundays. she went pick him from his late friday shift as they got dinner on the way back

fëanor and his brother fingolfin had their disagreements but loved each other. sometimes they had energetic discussions at family gatherings, then laugh and hug it out. fëanor named maedhros nelyafinwë as a jab on his brother, fingolfin would forever accuse fëanor of stealing the name kanafinwë from him. they would needle each other in a warm, affectionate way and that would be a running joke in the family. they only fought seriously once, eight years ago, when finwë was dying and fëanor refused to sign the DNR order and fingolfin said he and finarfin remained loyal sons; fëanor punched his face in the waiting room. the fight lasted a year. finwë used to be the president of the neighborhood association, fingolfin filling in when his condition worsened. fëanor never had any interest in the association. they ran against each other that next election and it got increasingly ridiculous until they snapped, had a huge argument and made peace during a debate for the election. finarfin was getting increasingly frustrated since he was one of the major people to complain about the other for both of them

maedhros was 18 when his parents died and quits the local college so he can work full time to support his brothers. the expenses of keeping the seven of them fed and the bills paid are piling up and he is holding out so they don't have to sell the house

fingolfin is an english teacher and anairë, his wife, is a nurse. neither of them makes too much, but it’s enough to keep them afloat and have some savings. they have more than once asked maedhros for the fëanorions to move in with them. he doesn’t accept since he feels he can’t neither impose nor make his brothers go through selling the house where their parents lived

finarfin is a counselor at a nonprofit and eärwen is the swim team instructor. not wealthy by any means, but will pick up the kids after school and bring weekly casseroles for dinner with extra groceries

fëanor once joked finarfin and eärwen could have another kid so they would both be ahead on the total of kids count. fingolfin would then say that fëanor could have more kids, but he clearly had the brightest of the bunch. fëanor would reply that fingon has broken his arm at least three times in the last couple years. fingon would remind uncle fëanor that it was "four times in five years” and to “make sure to give him all the credit he deserves.” finrod would say, wisely, that “the year only really starts after finno breaks his arm.”

fingon is three months younger than maglor. has graduated high school and takes classes at the community college, studying to be a social worker. former president of the gsa. runs track competitions. works down the street from maedhros. will bring him coffee on his breaks and talk nonsense to him after a bad day

he also brings the fëanorions movies on sundays as maglor makes his godless sweet/salted popcorn. brings hard liquor in the middle of the night so the grown-ups drink it in the garden. will cheer louder than anyone at maglor's shows and they're also very close friends. does Sports™ with celegorm.

maglor has flunked his last year high school after the death of his parents, so he's still a senior and works when he can on afterschool or summer jobs, but maedhros won't let him neglect his studies to help him. sometimes has barely paying music gigs, which he loves

celegorm is a wholesome, chaotic himbo. is closest to aredhel and curufin. will help old ladies to carry their groceries and teach them slang. plays pranks on deserving teachers at school with aredhel. will punch assholes in the face while laughing. volunteers at a shelter. has had his enormous dog huan since he was 5. when he gets into college will study to be a vet

caranthir is an angry teenager picking fights at school and pushing people away. knits and embroiders and talked back to a teacher who wouldn’t let him bring needles to class since that’s the only way he can concentrate anyway. gets detention. is walking back home alone after and this weird looking, scary dog starts walking behind him. manages to befriend said scary dog and bring him home. maedhros figures he does seem happier than in months, and one more dog isn’t going to strain finances too much. is that a small rottweiler? an overtly angry doberman? maedhros has no idea

curufin adores science and maths. fëanor used to tutor him in those interests, and after his death his brothers teach themselves things so they can keep on teaching him but he's quickly surpassing them. will end older kids bothering him. skipped a grade and is in the same class as galadriel. they're best friends, she is the only person who can play chess with him and those two could probably take over the world together

turgon is the sweetest, awkwardest, most considerate person. wants to be a lawyer. writes articles on the students’ newspaper about the unequal funding of state schools and the drama club budget cuts while crushing heavily on editor in chief elenwë

aredhel is in the roller derby team and the women’s student union with haleth, morwen and lúthien. crushes on Morwen hopelessly and pretty much dies every time she does something really cool. helped organizing a protest against double standards on dress codes and sexualization of teenage girls where everyone came to school wearing shorts. celegrom wore shorts in support

argon is a theater kid

finrod is both that competent and popular to be president of the student council, with glorfindel as vice-president. total overachiever. doesn’t really know what he’s going to be doing with his life yet so collects interests like people collect shells on the beach. has literally joined all the clubs in school at some points and knows Everyone. turgon is exasperated every time they walk the halls together since a five minute corridor cross takes at least ten, as finrod will stop to talk to everyone that greets him. turgon reminds him he has class to attend. finrod will get in class late, smile angelically and not get in trouble for it. in college will be a undeclared major for awhile

angrod in swim team with his friend ecthelion

aegnor is a rebel against all authority except his mom. has no idea what he's doing and that seems to be his plan. fine if finrod wants to be the family overachiever, he wants to have fun. has a lot more in common with him than he realizes. he and caranthir run a forbidden snacks underground ring during school recess

galadriel is 12 and will win arguments with just about anybody. very perceptive

[iriel3000]

I'll Keep You Safe - Chapter One

Please join me every Sunday in May and June for a new 'episode' of I'll Keep You Safe, a clintasha/Walking Dead AU.

Summary: Out hunting for his band of survivors living in a deserted prison, Clint Barton is injured rescuing a young woman on the run from human predators.

Alone and with no where to go, Natasha Romanov takes a chance and joins the kind-eyed archer with lethal reflexes. Together, they fight the elements and the dead to get Clint home.

Welcomed, but not by all, Natasha strives to prove herself worthy to stay with Clint and his friends, but horrors from her past threaten to destroy everything.

Excerpt

“Where’s the kit?” 

Clint pointed to his backpack. Red rummaged for supplies while he gingerly stripped off his shirt. 

“This is going to hurt.” She dabbed his torn flesh with an alcohol swab.

"Ow. Some warning, yeah?"

“I said it would hurt. You need stitches.”

“Did you want to call the doctor and make an appointment?” 

A tolerant glare was thrown his way. 

“I’ll sew you up.”

“You’ll do what?”

“It's not big but it's deep. I've done it before. It’ll only take five or six."

"Only? Great. Who'd you sew up last time?" 

"Me." 

She stuck out her right leg. A long, thin scar ran along her mid thigh.

“You did that yourself?” Clint tore his eyes away. The raggedy shirt barely covered her hips.

She nodded and wiped the threaded needle with alcohol.

"Ready?" 

“No.” He hissed as she punctured his skin.

Red worked fast. The rest of the stitches weren't as painful as the first. She tied off the suture and cut the thread, gently plotted his wound then bandaged it with gauze.

Exhausted and in pain, Clint looked over at his new companion. She saved him from a couple of lunatics, got him here, patched him up and he didn’t even know her name.

“Natasha.” She said quietly, packing up the needle and thread, reading his mind. 

Clint smiled.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

"I believe I should thank you." She knelt beside him looking worried. “You need water.”

“Bag in the corner.”  

Natasha cradled his head and helped him take a few sips. If she were smart, she would rob him blind and run but Clint vaguely remembered wishing she would stay before completely passing out. 

tbc

Thank you for reading! Click the link below for the entire chapter.

I'll Keep You Safe If You Let Me - Chapter 1 - Iriel3000 - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

[thebeebi]

your little games pt. 12

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings: fluff in later chapters, smut, non-con, mention of r*pe attempt, implied murder and many more! Read only if you are okay with these topics!

genre: historical AU, 18th century?

word count: 3k+ [part 12]

a/n: Hello, I am sorry for posting late, but I am trying to learn some coding so I could fix the tumblr themes up to my liking. ALSO huge shout out for people who messaged me a suggested some themes ♥ Love you. ♥ 

taglist: @njrwifey​ @danietoww04​  @kaithezaftig​​ @she-is-dreaming​  [If you want to be added, just let me know :)]

You ran away from the man who tried to take an advantage of you. You stabbed him and escaped. Escaped to the arms of the handsome captain who was even worse than the man you just killed.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11

In the silence, you could hear that Jungkook was back. He was taking off his clothes and the only source of light was the lamp from the outside. He laid down next to you and turned his face towards the door just in case something might happen again and because he could not look at you. It was silent in the room once again and the only thing you could hear was his breath, which started becoming more stable and calm.

Before you could even open your eyes, you heard that it was raining outside. The man lying next to you moved and pulled away the blanket that was covering him. Jungkook sat up at first then stood up. You finally opened your eyes and also hopped out of the bed which got his attention. He frowned while looking at you. “You do not have to wake up yet.” He said tetchily. “I have to take care of a few things and I cannot take you with me.” You opened your mouth in o while nodding. “Are you leaving right away?” You asked timidly since his expression was not the most welcoming you have ever seen. “No. Not right now. Firstly I have to wash up and then eat breakfast.” You looked around the room and then backed away from him. “If you don’t mind, I would rather wake up now.”

“Do whatever you want.” He murmured. “I don’t care.” When the servants from the tavern brought him the warm water into the tub, ha made sure it was the temperature up to his liking. Once they left and you stayed with Jungkook alone once again, he sat down in the tub. It looked like Jungkook was in a bad mood, enjoying the silence. It was too silent that you were scared to even come closer to him and offer him help with washing up. You gathered all of the courage and walked towards him but once you were close, you stood still unable to say a word. You tried to reach for the sponge, that Jungkook was holding, while your hands were shaking. Jungkook looked at you surprised. “What do you want?” He asked annoyed. “A cat got your tongue?”

You took a deep breath before you finally spoke up: “I want… I want to help you to wash up.” Jungkook frowned even more. “You don’t have to.” He spat out. “Go and dress up and if you want, you can eat breakfast with me.” You nervously backed away from the tub and turned to the chair, where you left the dress last night. It was more than evident that he wants nothing to do with you today. You decided to keep your distance for now so you won't make him even more upset with your presence. You decided it would be best to brush your hair. You made your way towards the mirror and started trying to fix the mess with the fingers while Jungkook got out of the tub. He took the towel that was hanging on the chair and wiped the drops that were slowly going down his toned abs. Once you were finished you made your way towards the table but at the same moment, Jungkook turned to you and also walked towards the table to grab the freshly washed white shirt. You quickly moved to the side to let him through, but the action was met with a frown. “You don’t have to be so scared.” He said bitterly. “I won't hurt you.”

You looked down biting your lower lip. “I… I am sorry.” You whispered. “I didn’t want to be in your way.” Jungkook cursed under his nose. “I don’t care if you avoid me or be in my way. I am not planning on beating you for things as your aunt did. I have never hit any woman in my life.” You looked at him unsurely. Should you move or should you stay, where you are right now? Jungkook was trying to tie the ribbon of his shirt in the bow-knot but anger did not help him and he failed to do so. You walked towards him slowly and pushed away his hands from the ribbon. Jungkook was staring at you but you did not look at him back. With the nervously shaking fingers, you tied up his ribbon into an even bow. Then you walked towards the chair and took the coak. You approached him again, wanting to help him put it on but he grabbed it from you. “Let me do it.” He said looking away from you. “You go and brush your hair again with a brush.” You smiled and quickly nodded, running towards his bag to take out the brush. While you were softly caressing your hair, Jungkook walked to you and buttoned up your dress. You thanked him and shyly smiled.

After that, the days flew quickly and it was the day when Jungkook was supposed to take you to the dressmaker to try on the dresses they made so far and to check on the fittings. “Today you are supposed to go and try on the dresses.” Said Jungkook slowly and took a bite of the bread. “I will come to pick you up around 2 in the afternoon. Tell Jimin to ask for the carriage.” When he looked at you, you obediently answered and nodded while taking a sip of coffee. Jungkook was softly caressing your body with his eyes. You always tensed up feeling his eyes on you, but after a while, you relaxed but still blushing a little.

While Jungkook was eating, you were watching him in silence. He was wearing a dark blue coat with a stiff tall collar quilted with a golden stitch. The shirt and the bow were of the bright white colour and you could smell a soft hint of his cologne. He was dressed up perfectly as always and he looked so attractive that all women in the tavern went weak just seeing him breathe. Then you realised he had the same effect on you. It was more than often when you stood still while looking at him. You would keep looking at him but his sudden voice surprised you and you looked down at your bread on the plate. “Yesterday I lost the button on my shirt.” He pushed away the plate from him and wiped the plump lower lip. “I would like you to fix it for me. Jimin is not so good when it comes to these things.” He looked up at you and raised his eyebrows. “I am assuming you would be good at that.” You smiled shyly, glad that he finally asked you to do something. “Stitching is one of the works I enjoy the most. It is the first thing I was taught to become a proper lady.”

“A proper lady…” Murmured Jungkook more for himself than for you to hear. “Excuse me?” You asked warily, not sure if he is going to make fun of you again, not understanding why he would do that after such peaceful days you spent together. Jungkook did not answer but reached for the strand of your hair that was in your face and softly pushed it behind your ear. “I mean nothing by that, little one. I am just thinking about how educated you are in this field.” You thought he was making fun of you but weren’t sure and there was no way to find out.

The door to the tavern opened up and a tall young man entered in, wearing the typical coat that sailors wore. He looked around before his eyes stopped at Jungkook and he made his way towards your table. When he came closer, Jungkook stood up looking at him. “Good morning, sir.” Said the young man in the strange accent you could not identify. He looked at you then bowed while smiling. “Good morning, madam.” Jungkook introduced him to you as Kim Seokjin.  When Jungkook introduced you as his wife, Seokjin showed no sign of surprise. For sure he was told about our marriage. You did not know to what extent and what kind of details he knew but you knew that he knew. When I will be big enough, the crew of Bangtan could count on their fingers and realise that we slept together before marriage. Seokjin’s face was really handsome but you thought that your husband looked better. Seokjin smiled at you brightly. “I am glad to finally meet you, madam.“ You smiled at him and Jungkook asked Seokjin to sit down while he sat down in his chair.

When Jungkook and Seokjin left, you returned to the room. You asked Jimin to bring you a needle with a thread and scissors so you could start working on Jungkook’s button. This kind of work relaxed you a little while you did not even know you needed it. With his shirt in your lap and a baby in your womb, you felt happy and for a moment you felt like a real wife. You stopped working and the calmness disappeared soon enough. Soon you will have to pack your bags and leave the place you called home. The new life you were going to live was still unknown to you. You will be brought to a place full of strangers and your child is going to grow up among them. You weren't sure if you are going to be happy there but only time will tell.

When you finished up the stitching, you folded Jungkook’s shirt and placed it on the table. Jimin brought you a light lunch and then you got ready to leave for the town to see the dressmaker once again. Jimin knocked on the door, telling you that the carriage was downstairs waiting for you. Suddenly you could hear the loud tintinnabulation of the bells in the town centre but Jungkook’s voice was the only thing you could hear. You smiled once you heard the footsteps in front of the room and when he opened the door and looked at you, Jungkook noted. “I see that you are ready.” He did not look as happy as you were once you saw him, he furrowed his brows looking you up and down. “There was nothing to keep me from getting ready” You smiled a bit but quickly looked away unsure if you won't make him upset. He handed you the cloak that was hanging on his forearm. “It is cold outside.” You took it from him. “I think this one will fit you better than mine.” At first, you thought it was another one of his cloaks but when you put it on, you realised it was for women and it looked expensive. You never had such an elegant cloak before, not even when you were living with your father. You run your fingers through the material smiling. “Oh, Jungkook.” You exhaled. “It's so beautiful.” He reached in to button it up, but you were so happy with the present you started turning and spinning smiling at how beautiful it was. You were moving from one side to the other to see it better which caused Jungkook to laugh. “Stay still, my little bunny, so I can button it up.”

You giggled happily and looked down at his fingers that reached for your cloak once again. Since you did not tie up your hair, they fell down and covered your face alongside with the button and the hole Jungkook was trying to find. “Well, now I don’t even see what I am doing,” he lectured you lovingly. You started laughing so hard, you bent backwards letting him help you. Jungkook saw how happy you were with a little present and he was honestly glad he decided to buy you such a surprise gift. His eyes darkened once you touched his chest with your hand smiling. At that moment your eyes met and the touch was electrifying. The moment was interrupted by the horselaugh from the outside and Jungkook pulled his hands away from you. He shook his head as if wanting to get rid of all the sparkly feeling and then he smiled again and reached out his arm to let you wrap yours around it. “Let's go, little one,” you finally laid your hand on his as he continued. “We have to hurry up.”

Mrs Dubois welcomed you in front of her shop and then quickly led you inside, not wasting any minute. “Everything is going smoothly, captain Jeon. We will make dresses on time.”  Jungkook sat down on the offered chair and nodded. “Well done, madam.” The dressmaker then made her way to bring out all kinds of dresses. You walked to Jungkook and turned to him with your back, moving your hair to the front so he could help you unbutton them. His face had a strange expression when he reached up to help you and his fingers were clumsier than usual. You stepped out of the dress and Mrs Dubois helped you into the first one prepared.

“You are really lucky that it’s fashionable right now to have the middle higher.“ Said the dressmaker. “When the middle is so high, you will have no problem wearing this dress even in a few months when you will have a bigger belly. We will keep a bit of fabric inside, so you could cut the mold joint so it would create more room just in case.” Jungkook’s eyes suddenly slid down on his wife’s stomach. Today he forgot about your state and about the circumstances of your marriage. “Do you like the dress, monsieur?”  Jungkook then looked at your body, looking you up and down, not really caring about the pink dress you were wearing and but was covering something he really wanted to see. He murmured something in agreement then looked away. Mrs Dubois kept on putting you in the dresses, asking Jungkook if he liked them and he just always mumbled something as a yes. He moved on the chair while seeing you in the beautiful black dress. He was sweating as he started thinking about how he almost broke his promise a while ago. If the moment in the tavern was not interrupted, he would have thrown away the pride and would let his words mean nothing in a second. If the moment was not interrupted, he would hold you, brought you to the bed and nothing would stop him from making love to you. Now he was painfully aroused and was watching you how you are putting on and off different kinds of dresses. He was battling with himself. His pride and lust were battling and Jungkook was not sure which one was winning.

He frowned and dusted off his coat, wanting to look anywhere but at you. He did not want to look at you anymore. If he did, he would just run to you and would act as some kind of animal. At that moment he would be content with the carriage and privacy it offered. Nothing would help you, not even begging. He was feeling as if his insides were rupturing because he knew it would cause you to hate him even more. To Jungkook, it looked like you were happy with the situation you two were both in and he was worried that you would start playing the game of cat and mouse if he told you that he wanted to make love to you. And who was he really to say anything to you after the first experience you had with him? But he did not want it to be like that again. He did not want you to be scared of him. He wanted to be gentle with you. He wanted to show you how beautiful it could be.

Jungkook was really unlucky. You tried a few more dresses and he was cursing himself inside for actually buying you that many. He was frowning more and more and whenever Mrs Dubois asked him, he would answer even shorter each time. Mrs Dubois just exhaled knowing that he was just like any other men. She thought Jungkook hated the time it took them to try on the dresses. Oh, how wrong she actually was. Jungkook moved to the side on the chair, looking at you briefly thanking God and the dressmaker for finally putting you in the dress that covered your bust. Is she really unaware of what she is doing to me? Even though he promised to himself he is not going to touch you, it did not mean that you in a sating undergarment did not cause him to feel things. It barely covered anything and his mind was already full of images of you without it anyways.

Mrs Dubois helped you into another dress and said something in a quick French. The dress was small around your bust causing it to almost spill over youre breasts. Jungkook started twisting on the chair and was cursing inside. The cold sweat appeared on his forehead and he dug his fingernails into his knees. “Oh, girl! I have to show her the mistake she made.” Mrs Dubois spat out. “Not everyone is as flat as she is.” The dressmaker ran out of the room and you could barely breathe in the dress that was still full of pins. You moved your arm a little but it only caused you to whimper in pain.

“Jungkook, could you, please?” You asked him pitifully. “I feel like as if I were a pin cushion. That girl left there all of the pins she used. I cannot even breathe, they are pricking me.” Jungkook rather unwillingly stood up and walked towards you and put his hand underneath your bust-bodice feeling the warmth of your body. For a second your eyes met and to your surprise, he started blushing. He quickly pulled away his hand as if he was burnt. “You will have to wait for Mrs Dubois.” He spat out. “I cannot do it.” You were surprised by how rough he was. Obviously, he was nervous the whole time he was sitting in the chair, moving around. You nodded silently and looked down. Does he hate seeing me in the dresses? But he bought them… Did I do something?

Chapter 13

a/n: how did you like this chapter??? How long do you think is Jungkook going to be able suppress all of his urges and feelings? ;))))))  If you have any guess and would like to share go ahead :D I know the answer and I am curious if you can get it right :D love you lots ♥ 

[evanstanwrites]

Hot dentist - Steve Rogers AU

Sum: What did I bring myself into? Flirting with my dentist, none the less hot dentist, and then let him drive me home? Wasn’t this doomed to fail?

pairing: Dentist Steve Rogers x reader

warnings: my bad writing xD, +18 only, SMUT, public sex, unprotected sex, sexual acts while driving

I was so nervous as I stood in front of the dentist’s office in my local hospital. Today was the day I’d get my wisdom tooth removed, I had been in so much pain that I couldn’t delay it any longer. A few weeks ago I had noticed that there was a piece that had broken off my tooth and it had been the cause of a lot of pain, seeing as the nerves in the tooth got uncovered. So I found the little bit of courage I had left and made an appointment with my local dentist, an old but friendly man who was only a few weeks from retirement. 

He had taken one look at my broken tooth and knew that it wasn’t a job he could handle. It turned out to be a wisdom tooth that I didn’t even know I had. It was the surprise of my life and when he said that I had to go to the hospital’s dentist to have it removed under anesthesia I panicked completely. I was already scared shitless of a regular dentist and needles now they were gonna stick needles into my mouth? What more do you need to shit your pants out of fear. But I got my shit together because I didn’t want to live with this kind of pain forever so I made the appointment with doctor S.Rogers at my local hospital.

“Hey, I’m Y/n and I have an appointment with doctor Rogers,” I say once I got my shit together and got to the front desk of doctor Rogers’s office.

“Welcome, Y/n, please fill in this form while you wait. You can hand the filled in form to the doctor” The lady behind the desk says as she starts to hand me all different kinds of papers and documents.

“The waiting area for doctor Rogers is at the end of the hallway, you can take a seat there.” she smiles and points in the direction of the waiting area. 

After a short thank you and a nervous smile I follow the given directions through the long hallway filled with other waiting patients at all different doctors’ offices but none of them are the one I need to be at. After what seems like a long walk I finally reach the waiting area I need to be at seeing a large nameplate on one of the doors stating the doctor’s name.  

I take my place on one of the chairs and start to fill in the form I was given by the lady at the front desk. Just as I was done the door of the office opens and a tall blond model like man with one of the brightest smiles stands in the door opening.

God this man was drop dead gorgeous, who was he? Was he the nurse, Maybe doctors Rogers’s assistant, or what if this was doctor Rogers? Omg kill me now, I’m not going to survive this if that species of a man is gonna do the procedure.

What if I say something stupid during the anesthesia?

“Miss Y/l/n?”

God even the sound of his voice is to melt for. I quickly get a hold of myself and stand up.

“That’s me.” I smile at the man.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Rogers. please come in,” he says as he steps out of the way and signs for me to walk in first.

Oh god, he is the doctor, I’ll have to do my best to act normal. I think to myself as I walk into the office and sit on one of the chairs before handing over the filled in forms as he walks past me to his seat.

“So I got all the information from your dentist, seems like you need to have your wisdom tooth removed.” He explains as he sits down behind his desk, looks over the papers before smiling at me.

“I do see here that you requested the use of the anesthetic gas but I fear that it’s not possible today due to some technical problems.”  

“Oh, so what’s going to happen then?” I ask suddenly not that concerned about the fact that I didn’t know how to act around a drop dead gorgeous doctor but more scared about the procedure itself.

“Well seeing as you’re the last patient of the day our only option for the procedure is a local anesthetic. But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. I know it sounds more terrifying than it actually is. I promise you I won’t hurt you, it’ll be a bit uncomfortable but it won’t hurt.” he reassures me which to I can only nod shortly, still nervous. 

“You’ll be alright, miss, you’re in good hands” 

One of his warm hands covered mine that laid on top of the desk as he says it with a smile. 

Wow, this man is really all smiles but knows how to put someone at ease. I think as I smile back at him. 

“Okay, Thank you, doctor Rogers”

“You’re welcome and please call me Steve. What ya say we get started and get it over with?” 

Steve’s not even finished speaking when he stands up from his chair and holds a hand out to help me to my feet and leads me to the room next to the office where the procedure would take place. 

And before I know it I’m in the chair leaning back, watching Steve move around the room as he washes his hands before gloving up. 

In the end, he was right, I barely felt it when he injected the local anesthetic into my gums. In comparison to any dentist I had ever met Steve was very soft in his handling and very talkative, it seems like he forgot that he was working in my mouth and that I couldn’t talk back. Which lead to a couple of funny moments but it did put my mind at ease, I wasn’t scared at all anymore and it started to feel more like Steve and I knew each other for a long time. He even flirted with me a few times, at least I think he did.

Every time he’d had to do something that would cause me even the slightest bit of discomfort he warned me and checked if all was alright after. 

Overall the procedure only took around half an hour and soon enough Steve was putting his work in finishing with stitching up the wound.

“Here you go sweetheart, we’re all done,” he says leaning back on his chair before cleaning up the little worktable so I could sit up. 

“You got someone to take you home? Because it’s not wise to drive while the anesthetic is still working,” 

Shit, I didn’t think about that. He’s right I can’t drive like this.

“No, I don’t but I’ll call for a cab to drive me home,” I say which comes out a bit more like a mumble due to my still numb mouth as I stand up from the chair, ready to collect my stuff so I can leave even if I don’t really want to. I wanted to be in his presence for as long as I could, that was the kind of effect he had on me.

“No need to call a cab, I can drive you home seeing as I’m off in a few minutes.” he smiles as we walk back into his office “Only if you want that is?” he quickly adds.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose after all I’m just your patient,” I say a bit unsure, I want to say yes but was it wise to, it isn’t professional at least.

“Well as soon as we walk out of this office you’re not my patient anymore and we can do what we choose to do,” he chuckles as he sits back down behind his office ready to finish up his paperwork for the day.

“Okay, you can drive me home if you really want to,” I respond trying not to smile that big so I wouldn’t drool too much caused by the numb lips. Steve seemed to notice and chuckled a bit louder. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the anesthetic will wear off. The numb feeling should be over in about half an hour,” he says before pointing at his computer.

“Give me 5 minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs in front of the main entrance. I quickly need to fill in this form and then chance and I’ll be down to pick you up.”

What did I bring myself into? Flirting with my dentist, none the less hot dentist, and then let him drive me home? Wasn’t this doomed to fail? But then again I was already in too deep to stop now, there was no option to go back now. There was no harm in having a bit of fun right? Who knows what I get out of it: a friend, a one night stand, or maybe a boyfriend? Who knows? Was this really so bad? No not at all, there was nothing wrong with this. 

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car flirting with him, a lot. The atmosphere turned hot and sexual very quickly just as our conversation and it seemed like it affected both of us. Steve obviously had a ‘little not so little’ problem in his pants and he didn’t even try to hide it. Even his hand has found its place on top of my thigh, slowly rubbing small circles onto my warm skin making me squeeze my thighs together to get some relief. The smirk on his lips showed me that he knew that it affected me too, I bet he could almost smell how wet I was.

“Really I can’t say thank you enough for driving me home. I don’t know how I can ever repay you Steve,” I say with a small smile.

“I could think of something,” Steve smirked seductively

“Oh, what are you thinking about then?” I ask faking innocence, I had a good guess what it would be and I was totally down for it but I wanted to see how he would respond.

But Steve didn’t say anything, he just softly took my hand, gave it a soft reassuring squeeze and placed my hand on top of the bulge in his pants.

I sucked in a deep breath of surprise, he felt huge for what I could feel through his pants.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to sweetheart” he quickly says taking my action as a rejection.

“No, It’s okay, I want to. I just wasn’t prepared to feel,... you feel so big Steve” I giggle which makes him chuckle in response.

“Well that’s because I am big sweetheart” he winks just as I start to unzip and unbutton his pants.

“Can I?” 

“Yes, go for it” 

More he doesn’t has to say before I slip my hand through his now open pants and wrap my hand around his rock hard cock. His skin felt warm and soft in my hand, god he is really big. 

I tried to feel as much as I could, discovering every inch, every vein, every unique part of his cock.

“you’re teasing sweetheart,” Steve says softly as he holds back a moan.

“But I like teasing,” I pout which makes him laugh

“You little minx,”

I finally decide to stop teasing and now wramp my hand firmly around his now leaking hard cock and slowly start stroking it.

“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, just like that” Steve moans as he tries his best to keep his focus on the road but that proved to be a hard task. 

I loved the feeling of his cock in my hand and started to imagine how he would feel if it wasn’t my hand wrapped around his cock but my pussy. I bet it would feel great, hit all the right spots and make me fall over the edge quickly. Damn, I almost came just by thinking of it.

“Oooh fuck it” I hear Steve bread hard as he suddenly makes a sharp turn into what seemed an empty backroad surrounded by trees.

“Euh Steve, this isn’t the way to my place,” I say surprised as I pull my hand out of his pants and look around me. There was nobody or nothing but trees to be seen. 

“I know but I can’t keep my focus on the road anymore, and I need a turn too sweetheart” he smirked as he parks his.

Before I even know it he gets out of the car, and I follow his lead, meeting him at the hood of his car. It doesn’t take long before he’s all over me, kissing me along the curve of my throat, his hands moving all over my body like he’s making a road map to some treasure.

“You’re driving me crazy sweetheart” he pants 

“Maybe you should do something about it” I smirk as I hop onto the hood of his car 

“I so want to kiss you right now but I fear that will have to wait. But can I fuck you instead?” he asks as he steps into the open space between my legs while his hands move up my legs.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I chuckle as I lift my skirt a bit as an invitation for him to slide his hands under, which he eagerly does and starts to rub over the soaked crotch of my panties making me move my hips up to his hand and moan at the touch. It really had been a long time since the last time someone even touched me down there, I felt like I was a virgin again.

“Please, Steve, just fuck me already” I moan 

“Look who’s impatient now,” he says as he shoves his still unzipped pants a bit lower so he could free cock, giving it a few strokes before moving the crotch of my panties to the side and slowly rubs the tip of his cock between my folds coating himself in my fluids.

I don’t care that we’re in public, I don’t care that someone could hear or see us, in this moment there was only Steve and me and how good he made me feel. I was already flying high on pleasure and he wasn’t even inside me yet. So the moment he actually started to push his cock inside me I couldn’t stop myself and moaned loudly at the feeling, feeling every inch of him as he filled me. 

“Fuck you’re so tight sweetheart” he moans, seemingly just as much lost in pleasure as I am.

Once he was fully inside of me he didn’t give me much time to adjust to his huge cock and just started to pull back out slowly and thrust back in with a hard and fast snap of his hips making me almost scream out in pleasure. I can only hold on for the ride he takes me on as he set a strong and fast pace. Proving my imagination from earlier in that to be true, his cock does hit all the right spots every time he slams back in. 

One of his strong hands grips onto my hip keeping me in place while with the thumb of his other hand he rubs my clit edging me closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Steve,...., so close,..., please,” I didn’t even know what I was begging for but Steve seemed to understand as he started to speed up the movements of his thumb on my clit.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I got you. Cum for me, I’m right behind you.” he moans out of breath. It seems like that was all it took before he guided me over the edge and I came harder than I’ve ever done before with a loud scream. It didn’t take long before Steve followed me and spilled his seed deep inside me.

“I should have made that appointment much sooner with you doctor Steve.”

please remember to like, comment and reblog :-) 

@feelmyroarrrr​ @rynabarnesrogers-reading​ @denisemarieangelina​ @patzammit​ @palaiasaurus64​ @loricameback​ @lizette50​ @jennmurawski13​

[jinglebriochebun]

Stitches and Needles Lore…

I suppose I need to explain to you all the lore behind the stitches and needles au….

Welp, buckle up stars cause this is gonna be a lot of reading!

Like I said in the au’s introductory post, the Playfellow studio has been abandoned for years, that is until the main character puppet, Wally, “wakes up”.

He finds himself torn and tattered with a bad case of amnesia. If it hadn’t been for a spirit named “Home” (who claimed to originally to possess Wally’s house) than Wally wouldn’t have even remembered his own name.

Home assists Wally in sewing himself back together. Wally has visible patches all over his body, but his most visible trait is his missing eye, replaced with a button.

(This is the old ref sheet I need to make a new one)

Wally discovers his friends all torn, dismembered, and in worse conditions than he was, and what a puppet would call, dead.

Wally convinces himself that if he fixes his friends than they’d come back to life. His first choice is Barnaby. Of course as he fixed himself and his friend he gains a skill and a passion for sewing.

While Wally works on Barnaby and explores the studio he finds….something

It’s a needle and thread that he attaches to his ear like an earring. The thread can lengthen itself and doesn’t snap under any tension, and Wally can control where it goes. The needle is sharp and tough so it can stab into anything.

It can be used for grabbing things, hanging down from stuff, holding things, murder, etc.

Once Barnaby is fixed he doesn’t come back, to Wally’s dismay.

However Home has a few tricks up their sleeve and reanimates the blue dog.

(This is an old one too)

Once Barnaby comes back he has a much better memory than Wally and instantly recognizes his best friend. Once Barnaby learns of the abandoned studio and the other puppets’ lifelessness, he assigns himself as Wally’s bodyguard (in a way). He’s not the most sure about Home but the spirit brought him back to life so he can’t complain.

Slowly Wally sews the entire cast together in this order: Poppy, Julie, Sally, Eddie, Frank, then Howdy.

Everyone in the cast doesn’t look the same as they used to, a few of them have replaced eyes, missing parts, a ton of patches and etc.

For some reason the largest Puppets have burn marks on some spots of their fabric: Barnaby, Poppy, Howdy, and Eddie.

Wally had to remove Sally’s back rays seeing as they were too damaged to fix, and Julie had to have her hair cut short due to the damage her hair gained from time and dirt.

(Working on Frank’s and Howdy’s designs ((they’re really hard to draw ;-;)))

Once everyone is fixed and back, they turn the abandoned studio into their own kind of home. However although everyone is enjoying life and being back together, Wally’s interests lead elsewhere.

He’s curious about the outside world, and the studio’s secrets. However unlike everyone he carries the burden of lost memory.

Everyone seems to remember their names and personalities and talents just fine, but Wally? He couldn’t even remember how to paint, which everyone told him was his favorite thing to do. He couldn’t remember his “favorite” hobby, how to do his hair, his favorite color or stories or anything! Sometimes he even forgets his own name…

Which only leads him to question what happened to the studio and why they were abandoned. But that’s when we meet someone who can help him in that task

Darika Collard, a non-binary, puppet enthusiast. They learn of the abandoned studio and a rumor that some of the puppets are still in there, so they decide to check it out not at all expecting to run into Wally.

They wander into his sewing room and they get caught in one of his traps he set for raccoons since one came in and tore up a ton of his fabric.

Once him and Darika are aquatinted and they meet the rest of the cast, Darika asks them what happened to them.

No one knows, or has any memory of the crew or owners of the studio when it was occupied. None of them even know why they were torn.

Darika decides to help them and solve the mystery since she has sources and can interact in the world outside the studio.

Of course Wally joins her in his human disguise (he’s just wearing human clothes and pulls it off) and he helps her solve what happen and slowly reforge his memory.

However the truth that they seek may not be what the main puppet wants to learn of.

And it may just be connected to a certain spirit that only the puppets can see.

Fun facts and more art!

SAN!Wally has a passion for sewing, it’s his favorite thing to do since he can’t paint

He’s also shorter since he had damage to both his legs and lost some cotton so he’s 2ft 10” instead of 3ft

He loves frogs, there’s this one who likes to follow him who he named “Apple”

Don’t make him mess up his stitch when sewing, he will be very angry

He likes climbing on his taller friends since his lost height makes him feel a bit insecure

Everyone gives Wally fangs most of the time, so I wanted to change it up! Julie actually has the viper like fangs, and Wally has rounded fangs.

(Wally has paw feet :D )

(He also has a character ai that I created if you guys wanna check that out)

[eden-court]

Moonstone (Handong x Siyeon)

Genre: Medieval-ish magical AU

Word Count: 1.5k words

Pairing: Dreamcatcher Handong x Siyeon

Content: mystery, rocks, just small village vibes. lowkey cottage core

Rating: PG-13 (that's being extreme, probably PG)

Handong wasn’t used to this neighborhood. It wasn’t particularly scary nor dangerous, just simply unfamiliar. She had just moved from a town or two over, and wasn’t particularly comfortable with the neighborhood.

It was a small village really, to put it frankly. The cottages decorated the fields and sparse forests that surrounded the center of town, a quaint yet peaceful place. She had moved to occupy the tailors shop in the center of town which included the small flat that sat above it. The previous tailor had passed from old age and it felt like the perfect opportunity for Handong to revitalize her career from being sanctioned to that backroom of her mother’s tailor shop. She now had her own space to spread out and have her own creative freedom - a fresh start.

She was met with well wishes for the most part. Some seemed weary at first, but quickly warmed up upon watching her for as short as a few minutes.

This particular morning, she found herself having a slow start. It was a Saturday for one, the day she decided to have the shop closed for her own time. However, she found herself unentertained by any book or activity besides the intricate stitchings of her day job. She sat in the back room, humming to herself as she embroidered the back of a shawl for the woman two doors down. She took her time, humming lightly to herself a song of her own fashioning.

It wasn’t until some time after lunch that she heard a light knock on the back door. At the time it didn’t register that this was strange to begin with, as she wasn’t even supposed to be down in the shop on this day. However, her mind went to the kindness of her surrounding neighbors and their recent gifts, assuming it was one of her new friends.

She slid on her hand-woven shawl and walked to the door, popping it open. To her quiet surprise, no one stood at the door nor the small cobblestone path nearby. She took a glance both ways before noticing the fluttering parchment on the ground, held down with an iridescent moonstone, the sun bouncing off its smooth surface.

Handong picked up the two items, one in each hand. Her eye was caught on the moonstone, its color seeming dimmer as she held it closer to her face, the smooth surface sliding across her needle-poked fingers.

Her eyes turned to the parchment, rough compared to the moonstone. The words were written with a curled, elegant calligraphy: “Welcome. I hope this town has found you well. The townsfolk are kind when they want to be. I always love to meet new comers, so why don’t you find your way to my abode? Please do stop by when you can. With Regards, Siyeon.”

Handong smiled at the note, its tone almost motherly with its welcoming drawl. Handong turned the paper over before frowning. How was she to find this woman’s home? There was no address scrawled anywhere on the paper. There wasn’t even a suggestion of where she might go to find out.

Handong, now intrigued by this new mystery, pulled more suitable clothes on before heading out into the street, heading to the market.

The market was the only major landmark Handong had distinguished so far out of the sprawl of the town. It was both close and a great resource for food and necessary items. As Handong walked through the center of the market, she rolled the moonstone in her hand, a reminder of her goal.

She got to a small gatherer’s cart, one she had collected berries from for dyeing fabric a week prior. She walked up and smiled at the old man, who gave her a kind look back.

“My, Handong, our newcomer!” He said, his old voice shaking. “What brings you to my booth - more berries perhaps?”

Handong smiled. “Unfortunately sir, not today - though I must say the ones you gave me last week are quite amazing for coloring.” He grinned in pride. “I actually came to inquire people about this message I received from someone. I was invited to visit this person’s home, but they did not give me an address.”

“Why, who is it my dear?”

“They wrote Siyeon.”

The man’s face dropped, fear coating his features. He stood up straight, confusion setting in within the seconds going by.

“I haven’t heard that name in years…” He whispered, looking at the floor for a moment before looking up at Handong. All the prior kindness had fallen from his face, a look of disdain armoring his features. Instead of responding in any sort of way, he turned, walking to the back of his roadside store, evidently done with the conversation.

Handong walked away, a little shell shocked from the metamorphosis she saw in front of her. Why did he react in such a way? Why did his demeanor change so drastically?

Handong wandered the market now, approaching stands of people before backing away, doubting herself. She was fearful of the reactions of these people; if such a kind man turned so upset at even the mention of the name, what would others who hadn’t yet taken a liking to her do?

She found herself at the edge of the market, subconsciously following the smell of pastries wafting from the small bakery on the corner. She walked in, and without really thinking, walked to the cashier and asked for Taeyeon.

Taeyeon was the youngest person in town. She was only a few years older than Handong and had been kind over Handong’s adjustment period to her new home. If there was anyone in town to be honest with her, it was Taeyeon.

Taeyeon came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a light pink rag. She gave Handong a warm smile.

“Hi, how are you?” Taeyeon said, a slight look of concern taking place as she took in Handong’s distraught features.

“Taeyeon, I received this letter and it seems that I cannot get an honest answer out of anyone into where this person is.” Taeyeon’s face evolved slightly: apprehension. She paused before speaking.

“Is this Siyeon?” Handong’s eyes lit up, answering the question for her. Taeyeon leaned over the counter whispering to Handong.

“Siyeon is not… part of the town,” Taeyeon said, looking around as she spoke softly. “She has lived in the forest beyond the western gate for generations. No one knows how old she is.”

Handong, tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Have you heard of witches, Handong?”

Handong scoffed, laughing lightly. Surely Taeyeon was messing with her, and Siyeon was simply a slightly disliked old lady who lived on the outskirts of town and was simply an outsider. But, as her laugh died out, she saw the seriousness in Taeyeon’s eyes.

“Are… are you being serious?”

“Whenever a young woman comes to town, she likes to… fraternize with them. Get to know them. Those who do are shunned from town and usually go off to stay with her. They don’t come back.”

“Did you receive a letter from her?” Taeyeon looked down at her hands, wringing the towel before getting back behind the counter.

“One piece of advice: don’t go there. Those who do fall under her spells.” She strode back to the kitchen, leaving Handong in the showroom.

Handong tried her best, she really did. She tried putting the note and stone into a drawer in the tallest cupboard in her home. She tried putting it under piles of books, but she kept finding herself drawn to the softness of both materials. She would all of a sudden find herself rolling the moonstone absentmindedly in her hands.

It wasn’t until about midnight that she put on her shoes and strode out to the western gate. It wasn’t far from her place and she soon found herself walking through lush mossy woods. It seemed she knew where she was going - that she was being guided. The air was humid and warm, but not overbearing. She felt as if she was in a dream. It wasn’t until she saw the glow of a window in the distance did she truly realize where she was going, that she was almost there.

Should she turn back? Does she keep going? A peak around couldn’t be horrible.

As she approached the house, she realized that there was someone on the chair on the front porch. A young woman with black hair was staring at her as she rocked back and forth in her chair, a light smile on her face.

“My my, it's been a while since someone was kind enough to bid me a greeting.” Siyeon said, standing to wait at the top of the short stairs to the porch. Despite the warmth, she wore a cloak and long pants and boots, but didn’t seem to sweat at all.

Handong forced a smile, unsure what to do.

“I see you received my gift.” Handong looked down at her hand, the moonstone shimmering from the dull light of the nearby window. She looked up at Siyeon’s face, confident yet kind.

“How about you take a seat? We can have a chat.”

Handong sat down, placing the moonstone on the table.

[jimlingss]

soldier!jk + doctor!yn in war!au? or moderntime!au, it’s up to you! :)

↳ A Promise of Freedom

1.7k words || 50% Fluff, 50% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || Wartime!AU

This drabble is continued here

Sometimes if you stand quietly enough, holding your breath and shutting your eyes, you can feel the rumble underneath your feet. The screams aren’t from your imagination, but echoing from the distance. And if you look, happen to squint your eyes at the horizons, you can see the explosions, the fire in the air and the smoke that always follows. 

But it’s not often you can be left to your own devices to feel the battlefield come alive.

“What are you doing standing there?” You’re shoved from behind when you’re stagnant for too long. “Get a move on!”

A man is carried on a stretcher with his limbs detached. One is without an arm, the other is holding onto his left leg. There are moans and pleas not to die, for their Gods to save them, and nurses rushing about and crying out for someone to help them save a man they have laying in front of them.

The last camp was bombed. You didn’t die unfortunately. But now there was only you left.

You have no choice, but to rush ahead with them.

“Hand me the needle,” you say to the nurse. “We have to close up his wound, hurry before he bleeds out.”

“R-right. Here you go.”

“Bandages! Someone get me bandages!”

You’re betraying your nation by saving and healing the enemy. But they’ve kept you alive — not because they were merciful, rather your medical knowledge is a weapon. “Water, I need a basin of water!”

You seem to be the only one who they can force to be here to revive the dying.

A soldier’s voice suddenly booms, “Who’s the doctor here?!”

Several nurses turn in your direction, and his boots stomps on the ground, heavy, intimidating. He yanks your shoulder back. “You need to come with me!”

“Not until I finish with this patient,” you spit and tun back to the soldier that you’re suturing.

“Did you hear what I said?!” he shouts, loud enough to ring your eardrums. The soldier gets right up against your face in an act of intimidation, saliva spraying at your cheek. The nurse beside you is terrified and flinches, face scrunched, on the verge of sobbing. But you remain focused. “You dare to ignore my orders, soldier?!”

“I’m not a soldier,” you mutter, almost done as he tries to command you. You finish the last stitch, knotting it and putting your hand out to the nurse. She gives you the scissors after a moment of hesitation and you nod to her that it’s okay.

What you didn’t understand the most was why this war was happening. You were all people — all absolutely petrified internally. There wasn’t much difference. And you’ve never been able to see past that.

“There I’m done. What do you need me for?”

The soldier’s teeth are gritted at your defiance and he grabs a hold of your wrist, yanking you hard — as if your fingers weren’t already bruised, hands bandaged and peeling from working twenty hours a day. 

You’re pulled across the room, past the curtain. And you find a man laying on the table, black hair, doe eyes barely blinking up at the ceiling. His face is covered in soot, opened scars and bruises that line his dry skin. Most importantly, his right hand is holding onto his chest, blood seeping past his clothing and in between his fingers.

He dry-heaves.

“What happened to him?”

“He got shot. Save him or die.” The soldier pushes you forward. There are two other nurses in the room, more than you’re used to, and the soldier stays to watch. You approach and everything clicks once you recognize the badges on his uniform.

He’s a corporal. An important figure. It makes sense as to why he has his own room, his own doctor.

The Corporal’s eyes flicker to you. He must recognize the symbols on your own clothes too as he stops you before you can reach down and open his shirt. His fingers curl into the aching parts of your wrist. 

He’s still strong despite the dire state he’s in. “I…can’t trust you.”

“Well, you’re going to have to.”

But he still resists. The injured man doesn’t let go of his hand covering his wound. His jaw clenches. You glance at the two nurses, but they choose to stay out of it lest they obtain the responsibility of his condition, and the soldier merely stays silent as if he were wallpaper.

You lean down to the wounded man, speaking softly in his ear, “Listen here, Mr. Corporal, if I try to sabotage you, I’ll die. If you die, I’ll die.”

You lose either way — you can’t kill him even if you wanted to.

Slowly, the Corporal lifts his hand to reveal his chest and you analyze the condition he’s in. He stares at you and you mutter, “I’m a doctor first and foremost. I don’t care about anything else.”

You tell him you need to turn his body to see if there’s an exit point of the bullet. Only then does the nurses step in to help and you shout commands at them, flipping him over again, looking at the damage, beginning to work.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, listening to your soothing voice before he’s knocked cold.

//

When he comes to, his vision is blurry and he finds the sunlight of the outside leaking through the fabric of the tent. It’s less chaotic than the night.

Jungkook hears clanging at the end of the room and finds you fiddling with materials. You must notice the heavy weight of his stare since you glance over at him, offering a polite smile. He blinks, and that smile is still there. It wasn’t just his imagination.

“Welcome back, Corporal Jeon. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

“Glad to be alive.”

“As am I.”

“Water,” he groans, voice cracking. You nod, quickly moving to grab the few bottles left with a hope the new shipment will arrive soon. He’s assisted in sitting up, feeling the ache in his chest and how he’s been bandaged around with his clothes replaced.

He sips the warm water and it quenches his cracking throat.

“Better?” you ask with a curious stare.

“Yes, very much so.” He hasn’t been taken care of in a very long time, and he’s relieved to wake up in a place where he doesn’t have to worry where the next direction of bullets will come from. Even if it’s just for a brief moment in time. “You saved me.”

“Yes, I did.” There’s a little smile on your features, cheeky as you tease, “At least that’s what it looks like.”

Jungkook muses that you’re pretty up close and in the light where he can see you clearly. He wonders what you look like without dirt smearing your cheeks, without your hair in disarray, without your lip split at the corner. He wonders who hurt you.

He wonders things he shouldn’t wonder for a person like him.

“I thought someone of your kind cou— never mind.”

“What?” You eye him carefully. “You thought someone of my kind couldn’t save you?”

“Why did you save me?”

“As I said, if I didn’t, I would die. I have no choice.” You shift away, looking into the cupboard of supplies with a sigh. You need more bandages. “I was trying to cross the border to find the rest of my family, but I was caught. They took me, but spared me because I was a doctor and they need…my kind. You guys don’t have many doctors willing to be on the front lines, do you?”

“Guess not,” Jungkook groans when he feels a sudden ache in his chest. “How much longer till I can go back?”

“To the field?” Your brows are raised. “There’s enough reason to send you home, corporal.”

“No.” He sighs and lays back down as you help him. “I can’t abandon my men.”

“How noble of you.” You have no reservation in unbuttoning his shirt to check his wound. He wonders if you’re used to seeing men’s bodies if you’re not at all flustered or embarrassed. “Two to three weeks and you can get back on your feet and maybe do heavy lifting.” 

“And you’ll take care of me till then?” he inquires, genuinely interested — maybe it’s another thing he shouldn’t wonder.

The corner of your mouth tugs. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“I told you, I didn’t have a choice.”

“You told me that you’re a doctor first and foremost,” Jungkook says, recalling just last night and surprises himself that he has recollection of it. “What matters is that you saved me, and for that I owe you.”

Owe you?

“I’ve never heard that one before. Sometimes the grateful ones ask me out on a date or for dinner if they’re still alive by the end of the war. Is that what you want, Corporal Jeon?” You check his wound before butting up his shirt again.

And you decide to stay, linger, sitting on the stool for a moment of rest. Jungkook stares at you with his doe eyes. He has remarkably boyish looks if you can see past his injuries.

“If dinner is what you want, then I’ll try to stay alive for it,” he states earnestly, “But is there something you’d like?”

Your tongue rolls in your cheek, doubtful of how you should answer, doubtful of his intentions. But he gazes at you in an intense way that has your face warmer than it should. He doesn’t seem malicious or wary of you anymore. And you decide there’s no reason not to be truthful.

It’s not like he can kill you anyways — not when your hands and skill set saves you from slaughter.

“I…want to leave.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, easily, catching you off guard. “I’ll promise to get you out.”

His hand suddenly lifts, pinky stretched out. It’s an innocent gesture, one that makes you laugh, and you wrap your pinky around his. The pad of your thumbs press together. He smiles softly and you match it. For once, there’s a glimmer of hope on the battlefield.

“I’m a man of my words,” he vows.

A rush of air leaves through your nose and you nod. “Then I’ll be waiting for you, Corporal Jeon.”

[splendidlyimperfect]

Ooooo if you’re still doing the sentence starter thing can I request: “ i can’t believe that asshole said that to you .  it’s not true, you know.” And “you want me to punch him in the face ??” Please??? With Natsu comforting Gray???

this took a while, i can’t remember how long ago this was submitted, time is fake, i’m sorry <3 i hope you enjoy it! 

read my lips

rating: teen and up pairing: gray/natsu tags: modern au, established relationship, covid fic, coffee shops, hard of hearing character, sign language, ableism, audism, emotional hurt/comfort, me projecting on gray as usual

**tw for ablelism/audism (ableism targeted at Deaf/HoH folks) and an instance of the r-slur

-----

“I don’t care what Lucas says, Han shot first.”  

Natsu emphasized his point with his sewing needle, shooing away Happy when he tried to bat at the thread.

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Sting insisted from the other end of the video call. “I’m just saying that he did kind of invent Star Wars.”  

Natsu rolled his eyes at his cousin as he nudged Happy away from the laptop. “Yeah, and he suggested Darth Icky as a Sith name to the game devs for ‘The Force Unleashed’, so it’s probably time for him to just, y’know, not be involved anymore.”  

Continue reading on AO3

Sting snorted, shaking his head as he tied off a knot on the back of his embroidery and flipped it over to study the design. He sighed, holding it up to the camera so Natsu could see the uneven stitches.  

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna get this,” Sting complained. “Yours looks so much better.”  

“I’ve also been doing it for years,” Natsu pointed out. He was about to say something else when the front door slammed open, bringing with it a red-faced Gray who looked like he was on the verge of tears. He kicked off his shoes, tossing his mask into the laundry basket at the door and throwing his bag on the floor.  

“Hey, love,” Natsu said, waving his hand to get Gray’s attention. Gray shook his head, refusing to look at Natsu and storming into the kitchen. Natsu frowned. Gray had been in a good mood when he’d left that morning, and he’d texted Natsu only an hour ago – on my way home, gonna pick up coffee, love you <3 

“Everything okay?” Sting asked.  

“No, I gotta go,” Natsu said, setting his embroidery down and giving Sting a concerned look. “I’ll text you later, ‘kay?”  

Sting nodded. “Hope everything’s okay. Love you.”  

“Love you, too.”  

Natsu nudged Happy off his lap, then headed to the kitchen, where Gray was aggressively washing his hands. Eventually he turned off the water but stayed where he was, head down and fingers gripping the edge of the sink.  

“Gray?”

He didn’t answer, so Natsu reached around the corner and flicked the lights a couple times. Gray sighed, grabbing the towel and finally turning around to face Natsu.  

What’s wrong? Natsu signed. Gray’s cheeks were still flushed, and he refused to meet Natsu’s gaze. 

I can’t fucking understand anyone, he signed eventually, looking like he was going to cry. Natsu frowned and Gray added, With masks on. I can’t read anyone’s lips and I feel so stupid.  

Natsu’s heart ached at the defeated look on Gray’s face. He stepped forward and reached out for Gray’s hand, which was balled into a tight fist. It took a few seconds, but eventually Gray sighed, letting Natsu slip their fingers together.  

“I just wanted a coffee,” he said out loud. His voice was tight and on the edge of tears. “The barista kept asking me something and I couldn’t hear her, there was too much background noise. It’s all just… sound. I didn’t understand. She had to write it down and people were staring, and I felt like an idiot, so I just left.” 

Natsu ran his fingers over Gray’s, bringing his hand to his lips and kissing it.  

“It’s so frustrating,” Gray said quietly. “Everyone thought I was stupid.”  

“I’m sure nobody thought—”  

“They did.” Gray’s jaw tensed. “The guy behind me thought I couldn’t hear at all, but he was so fucking loud. I heard him laughing, telling his friend I was…” Gray’s voice broke and he quickly rubbed at his face with the back of his hand.  

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Natsu said gently, pulling Gray close and wrapping both arms around his shoulders. Gray leaned into the embrace and pressed his forehead to Natsu’s shoulder.  

“He said I was retarded.”  

Natsu froze at the words that were muffled by his shirt. “What?” he tried to pull back to look at Gray again, but Gray wrapped his arms around Natsu’s waist and kept him close. He was trying his best to hold it in, but he was definitely crying now.

Natsu held Gray tighter, protective anger filling his chest as he ran his hand up and down Gray’s back. “I’m so sorry,” he said against Gray’s ear. “I can’t believe he said that to you, that’s horrible.”

Gray didn’t say anything. Natsu could see him biting his lip to keep back the tears and the soft sounds that came with them. He sighed, holding Gray as close as possible and pressing his cheek to the top of Gray’s head.

“I love you,” he murmured as he ran his fingers through Gray’s hair. They stood like that for a while, and eventually Gray’s shoulders stopped shaking. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Hey,” Natsu said gently, pulling back and making sure Gray could see his lips. “You know what he said isn’t true, right?”

“I…” Gray swallowed and looked back down at the floor. “It’s just so frustrating. I get so embarrassed and I feel so stupid.”

Natsu shook his head, nudging Gray’s arm and switching to sign.

First of all, that guy is an idiot and a terrible human being, and if I ever see him, I’m gonna punch him in the face. Secondly, you’re not stupid. You’re one of the smartest people I know. You know four languages, you can build computers from scratch, and you can code faster than humanly possible. You know every single piece of lore from World of Warcraft – which is ridiculous, by the way, but adorable.

Gray’s lip quirked up in a tiny smile.

There’s nothing wrong with you, Natsu continued. No matter what. Doesn’t matter if you want to wear your hearing aids or not, if you want to talk or sign, or if you need extra time understanding people.

Gray sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I know. It just sucks.” He exhaled loudly, then looked up at Natsu. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

“But—”

“Look, I know we’re Canadian, but apologizing for someone else being an ass and calling you a slur isn’t allowed.”

Gray laughed and the sound relieved the anger and frustration in Natsu’s chest. He studied Gray’s face for a moment – the deep blue of his eyes, the tiny scar on his forehead, the barely noticeable dimple on his left cheek.

“What?” Gray frowned at him.

“You’re pretty,” Natsu said simply, leaning in and kissing Gray’s nose as a pink flush spread across his cheeks. “And I love you.” Before Gray could attempt to deflect the compliment, Natsu added, “Do you still wanna get a coffee?”

Gray’s expression shifted into something uncertain. “I can just make it here.” He gestured to their coffee machine, but Natsu shook his head.

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to go out and get coffee?” Gray gave Natsu a suspicious look and he laughed. “I have an idea,” he said, gesturing to the door. “C’mon, let’s go for a drive.”

~

Natsu made Gray drive. He gave directions that lead away from the house, across the freeway, and into the neighboring suburb. The roads were unfamiliar but Natsu navigated them from his phone, clearly looking for something specific.

“Where are we going?” Gray asked again. He glanced over at Natsu, who just grinned at him and pointed out the window. A Starbucks sat in the middle of the shopping complex on the right side of the road.

“Do the drive through.”

“There’s tons of Starbucks back in New West,” Gray said, frowning as he flicked on the signal and pulled into the parking lot. “Why’d we come all the way out here?”

Natsu didn’t answer, just gestured to the menu screen as Gray pulled up to it. He looked at Natsu, ready for him to interpret whatever the barista said, but was surprised when the screen lit up instead. Someone with long, dark hair appeared on the screen, dressed in a green apron and giving them a warm smile.

Welcome to Starbucks, how are you doing today?

Gray’s eyes widened as he watched them sign, and it took him a moment to realize that they could see him.

Good, he replied quickly, hoping he didn’t look too confused. Um. You?

I’m great! What would you like to order?

Gray stared blankly at the menu for a second, then remembered he always got the same thing. Doubleshot on ice, please? he replied. Grande? Natsu poked him and he batted his hand away. And a Java Chip Frappuccino.

Awesome, see you at the window! The barista smiled and waved at him before the video switched off and the screen returned to normal.

Gray managed to hold in his tears until they had their drinks and were parked in the lot. He quickly wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, trying to hide his face from Natsu.

“That was Rogue,” Natsu said gently, reaching over and pulling Gray’s hands away from his face. “Sting’s new partner.”

Gray swallowed, trying to push down the lump that blocked his throat. “They can… they know sign.”

“Yeah.” Natsu brushed Gray’s hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. “Sting was telling me about them earlier – their little sister is Deaf so they’re pretty close to fluent in ASL.”

“Oh.” Gray stared down at Natsu’s hand in his, trying to figure out how to explain the complicated sensation in his chest. The frustration and embarrassment from earlier were gone, replaced with a deep sense of relief.

Natsu nudged Gray as he let go of his hand, and Gray looked over at him.

You’re not stupid, Natsu signed, balancing his drink on his lap. You’re smart and funny and gorgeous, and I love you so, so much.

Gray stared him – wild hair and bright eyes and the wide smile that Gray had fallen in love with so many years ago. “How do you do that?” Gray asked softly. Natsu raised an eyebrow. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Making you happy is my superpower,” Natsu said, grinning as he took a sip of his drink. “Now, y’know what you can do with lips besides read them?”

Gray raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Kiss them.”

“You’re such a dork,” Gray said, shaking his head and laughing.

“You love me, though.”

“I do.”

Gray leaned over the console and pulled Natsu in for a long, slow kiss. Natsu’s hand brushed through his hair and he leaned into the touch – into the way that Natsu always felt like home.

“Mm.” Natsu hummed happily as he pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. “See, this is why I make you feel better – I get kisses when you’re happy.”

“So you’re not just being altruistic?”

“Not entirely. I may or may not have ulterior motives.”

“And do those ulterior motives happen to involve clothing?”

“That’s entirely up to you.”

Gray laughed and brushed his nose against Natsu’s, then pulled him in for another kiss. He tugged lightly on Natsu’s hair, biting gently on his lower lip and tasting chocolate on his tongue. Then he pulled back and smiled, setting his coffee in the cup holder and putting the car into drive.

“Let’s go home and find out.”

[starsandauras]

Prompt #17: Fade

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt 17: Fade

More from the Streamer AU! A slight cross over with Final Fantasy X/X-2 because fuck it that’s my favorite set of games in the franchise and where are my X references Square GIVE THEM TO ME NO THE SHIVA SNAP SOUND ISN’T ENOUGH

“If you’re just now joinin’ us, welcome to the stream! Today we’re lookin’ at a set ‘tis generously bein’ donated to us by SpiraSongstress.” Brigid smiled up at the camera, gesturing at the blue short skirt and blue vest with a half skirt sewn to the bottom hem that was currently laid out on her stitching table. “Red darlin’ if you could be postin’ a link to her channel for me…”

Sure enough a link appeared in chat, encouraging her followers to follow SpiraSongstress.

“If you’re havin’ a few gil to be sparin’, perhaps you could be givin’ her a subscription, or be donatin’ to her charity drive! Currently she’s workin’ to fund restoration work on Home, the Al Bhed capital buildin’.” Brigid turned back to the outfit before her. “So this is datin’ back to the early years of the Seventh Astral Era, though ‘tis a replica of a set ‘tis from the mid Sixth Astral. In her note, Songstress was tellin’ me ‘tis bein’ a near identical replica of the set famed artist Lenne was wearin’ when she was bein’ fatally shot down with her lover, Shuyin.”

DramaLounge: Ugh enough with the history lesson DragoonsBane: You must be new here. BirchSyurp: Yes, GildedRose always explains the history of the garment on display.

Brigid smiled and nodded at the camera. “Lord Syurp’s bein’ right, me new friend. ‘Tis an important part of clothin’, knowin’ the history ‘hind it, the culture ‘tis comin’ from. Be tellin’ a great deal ‘bout a people by their clothin’.” She gestured at the hemline with a long knitting needle. “As you can be seein’, ‘tis a shorter skirt but nay bein’ tight, so ‘tis showin’ there’s bein’ a great deal of movement for the singer, which is only bein’ reinforced by the half skirt here.” She trailed the knitting needle along the half skirt, skimming gently over the flounces. “‘Specially in the hips. I’m hearin’ that Lenne’s dance moves in particular were puttin’ a great deal of focus in that area, ‘tisnae bein’ a surprise her costumin’ is followin’ that function.”

LadyShiva: Weren’t there arm pieces that went with this?

Brigid pointed her knitting needle at the camera. “Good catch there, Lady. Aye, but Songstress was tellin’ me she was feelin’ like they’d be too fragile for shippin’, and ‘tis a fair ‘sumption, some of these fabrics arenae holdin’ up too well to most things. As you can be seein’, I’m pointin’ out things with this ‘stead of touching them with me hands. You dinnae ever want to be touchin’ old garments with bare hands, the oils and skin cells can be reactin’ badly, causin’ light or dark spots in the dye, or even eatin’ through the fabric itself. We’re nay wantin’ that, as garments this old are bein’ rare.” She gestured to the multitude of lamps in the room and the covered windows. “Daylight’s nay bein’ kind either, so havin’ to be relyin’ on fake lightin’ today. Though this fabric’s lookin’ dark, ‘tis being much lighter than ‘twas once bein’.”

HoarFrost: I thought your fair features looked quite less splendid than usual, my friend.

Brigid laughed as she pulled on a glove. “I’m workin’ with what I’m havin’, Frost me lad. ‘Tis good to be seein’ you today, was thinkin’ ‘twas bein’ one of your streamin’ days?”

HoarFrost: My microphone broke, everything was going in and out. The new one is shipping as we speak.

“Ah, so you’ll be givin’ out your advice some other day, I’ll have to be joinin’ you then.” She used her gloved hand to turn a shoulder seam inside out for the camera. “As you can be seein’, the light was fadin’ the colors on the outside, but here where the seam’s bein’ protected…” She circled the darker fabric with the needle. “‘Tis bein’ a rich navy. Nay bein’ a colorfast dye either, judgin’ from the bleedin’ onto the lighter color of the flounce, but Songstress is tellin’ me ‘tis one of the features of the replica.”

And so Brigid continued, pointing out the slightly frayed threads and mended spots that spoke to a long, if slightly rough, life being used on stage and then in recreations. Spiran clothing was a recent fascination in Eorzea and Norvrandt both, and the Spirans were more than happy to share.

That the music group YRP had recently become popular outside of the streaming circles was only a coincidence, it was maintained. Certainly by SpiraSongstress and her cousin IbpaydRikku, at least.

“And ‘tis it for today!” Brigid eventually wrapped up. “Be comin’ in next day on me schedule—” And there RedRacer posted the streaming schedule in the chat “—for when I start takin’ the pattern from this and select me fabrics. Remember to be followin’ SpiraSongstress on all her media channels, be followin’ *me* on all me channels if you’re nay ‘ready, and be doin’ somethin’ you’re lovin’ today, even if ‘tis a wee thing. Red, be findin’ me someone to raid.”

RedRacer: ScoringRogue is on.

Brigid blushed lightly, which caused the chat to erupt in speculation and teasing.

CodesWithTea: Gods please no, do not talk about my sister “collaborating” with him like that. TehHer0: Gonna have to agree here. ThisIsScience: Thirding oh Thaliak agnaogdnbnbh n’[oef DragoonsBane: What’s got you so squeamish, boy? ThisIsScience: I DO NOT WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT THANK YOU ButtonBot: Please do not use all caps! We consider this yelling and it is rude! Thank you. <3 ThisIsScience: Brigid your bot is condescending. RedRacer: I have regrets.

Meanwhile Brigid was ignoring all that in favor of scrolling through her follow list. “Hm… nay one I’d usually be throwin’ you lot at is on… Any suggestions?”

IronTech: There’s a new cover artist, just got started last sennight. Name of AllaganCat. He’s quite good, strong voice.

Brigid hummed to herself. “I do like promotin’ new folk. Well folks, if IronTech is enjoyin’ it ‘tis bein’ good ‘nough for me! Now me buttons, be nice to the new singer, hm? Be showin’ him a GildedRose welcome!”

In Mor Dohna, a ginger miqo’te was tuning his harp in peace, only for his ears to shoot up and his tail puffed up in shock as a sudden influx of users flooded his chat, all repeating the same supportive and welcoming message.

G’raha Tia’s follower count went from a scant fifty to nearly two hundred in that single raid.

[realfuurikuuri]

Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Mao Mao/Tanya Keys, Mao mao/badgerclops

MissingArm!AU: When escaping the cave, it wasn't his tail that got crushed. In exchange for his innocence, he gained a sordid past. The Pure Heart Valley seemed like a good place to escape. To start a new life with a new family to forge a new identity. However, when the past rears its ugly head Mao Mao's forced to step up or be put down.

Direct AO3 Link: XXX

The chilly wind rolled over the grass and blew through Mao Mao’s fur. Maybe living out in the middle of these hills wasn’t the best idea. The lack of vegetation meant no heat was locked in making night terribly cold. Mao Mao didn’t mind. It was like the cold chill of eating a mint wrapped around his entire body. He could focus on that instead of the thoughts swimming in his head.

Mao Mao sat himself down on a grassy knoll, far, far from home. From here, he could see the entire kingdom. The forest stretched on like an endless sea of trees. The junkyard was dark and quiet as his enemies slept.  HQ was just a tiny yellow dot he could barely see. The city slept quietly with the sweetipies. The Ruby Pure Heart itself, sat atop the spire emanating a perverse pink glow.

Strange. It didn’t always do that, did it? He scratched his chin wondering if it was also glowing during the day. Regardless, it was certainly bright as shit tonight. Speaking of light pollution Mao Mao looked up. It was easy to forget that the night sky was not actually black. It sang in hues of deep purple and blue. It was beautiful. Just not beautiful enough.

Terrible thoughts kept intruding on his peace. They whispered in his ear how much everyone hates him. How he hurt Tanya and Jǐngtì: his own family. How he was irresponsible and irredeemable. Given enough time he was sure he’d hurt Adorabat too. It's not like he can do anything else.

Maybe it was time to move on. He could pack his things and hit the road again, leave his problems here and see what else he could screw up in other parts of the world. He couldn’t stay here. The guilt was just too much to bear; it was physically painful. He clutched the severed stump of his arm from the fiery pain, pulling his hand black to see if it was bleeding despite it long being healed. The fresh wound in his stomach hurt with a nauseating pain that felt like it was bleeding again.

Maybe he deserved the pain. No. He definitely deserved the pain. It didn’t compare to half of the things he’s inflicted on others. Mao Mao fell back, lying in the grass as he pondered. What is justice? If he hazard a guess he would say wrong actions being punished . But what is wrong? Stealing is wrong, and thus deserves to be punished, but what is punishment? It's apparently not straightforward. Stealing is wrong, but you can’t apply the same punishment to two different people, otherwise, justice becomes wrong, and… what then? Who or what becomes justice?

Maybe his father was right not to keep him out of it. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around the basic concepts, let alone do his job well, although it's not like he has the skills to do anything else. Maybe that’s why everything he does goes wrong. Because he is wrong.

It was a sobering thought. It felt kind of like a cold splash of water, or maybe a punch to the face he didn’t stop. He was wrong; he was the Villain of this story, but if that were the case, then who's the Hero?

There was something hovering in front of his face, or maybe it was someone. It was a face, but it was blank and featureless, masterfully crocheted out of pink string or twine. Despite this, Mao Mao never moved. Was this sleep paralysis? He hadn’t had it happen to him since childhood, but it would be disgustingly on brand for it to show up now, and he supposed that this was his sleep paralysis demon. To give credit to his own mind, it was rather unsettling. The stings shifted as it pulled back its arm and brandished its claws, five fingers that ended in needle fine points.

The claw came rushing at him, judging from the trajectory, it was going for his neck. The masochist in him welcomed this, he folded his arms over his chest and waited for the hallucination to be over. The claw came rushing at him, judging from the trajectory, it was going for his neck. Sleep paralysis rarely lasts more than a second, after all, but Mao Mao noticed something odd.

How’d he move his arms?

This was supposed to be sleep Paralysis . He wiggled his ears just to be sure, and yep, he could still move. If he could move then that means that this wasn’t sleep paralysis and if this wasn’t sleep paralysis then that thing wasn’t a hallucination, and the claw coming at his neck was very real.

The claws cleaved the dirt where once was. He had rolled to the side, springing to his feet with a sword in his only hand. It was only a graze, but he could feel blood dripping down his neck. The monster followed him with its eyeless face, it cocked its head to the sides, as if confused, before standing up on the spindly spikes it called legs.

It stepped forward to take another swipe. Mao Mao pulled at Geraldine, finding her stuck in her sheath. He neglected to take care of her, and now he was paying for it. The demon swiped again, but Mao Mao stabbed Geraldine into the ground and tugged with a step forward. Geraldine cleaved a golden arc across the monster’s chest.

Instead of being sprayed with blood, Mao Mao was met with strings like he cut into a pillow. The monster stumbled back, but the string moved of its own accord. They moved like worms, knotting themselves together and wrapping themselves back up. The monster fell forward, whatever damage he’d done was already gone.  Was the wound too shallow?

The monster kept swinging, Mao Mao blocked high, he blocked low. He parried at his midsection and stabbed forward. His sword went straight through, he could see the frayed string, but something was wrong. There wasn’t a change in feel. He didn’t break the skin, bite into muscle, pierce through organs, and back out the other side.

It was just more string.

The frayed bits of string began to mend. It was healing around the sword! Mao Mao jostled his sword, wiggling it free, and falling back. He scrambled back to his feet away from the claws that raked the dirt. It was hard to move. So hard. His fur stood on end, Geraldine shook in his hands, and there was a searing pain in his side. He’d heard that rain could aggravate old wounds, but the stars were almost as bright as the Ruby Pure Heart. The only other reason an old wound would be aching was if the one who gave it was nearby, but that… might not be totally impossible.

Mao Mao squinted, trying to get a good look. He might’ve seen it before. The only things that came to mind were vague half-drunken memories. He’s been blackout drunk many times, but the fact the aching hole in his side did give Mao Mao a clue. Badgerclops did hint at something else happening that day. First, he fought Jǐngtì. After that, he fought Shin Mao. Finally, he fought this… thing.

What was standing in front of him now was an indescribable existence. What was he supposed to do? Every time the strings would sew themselves together like God was stitching it himself. The monster stepped forward and Mao Mao stepped back. What else was he supposed to do? His hero training had no advice, and even if it did Mao Mao was sure he’d fuck it up like everything else. He kept backing away, stumbling over his own tail. What was wrong with him. Sweat pooled inside his gloves, he could hear his heart thundering in his head, and it was getting hard to breathe. Was this a stroke? Was his wish coming at the worst possible time?

No. This was a primal childish urge that made his teeth chatter, his pulse rise to the heavens, and heart sink to the depths.

It was fear.

Mao Mao was used to soldiering through things with balls bursting with bravado, and if that couldn’t work then anger usually sufficed but this... He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t fight this. This featureless creature shambling towards him wasn’t a monster. It was something out of those scary stories he read under the blanket at night. It was something out of a Mr. Din Danalin horror movie. It was an unkillable demon that belonged in nightmares. He wanted to lash out. To strike this thing down, but he could barely stand.

All he could do was hold his sword in his mouth, get down on all fours, and run.

* * *

Badgerclops sat on the couch. There was nothing odd about that; what was odd was what he was doing. He didn’t have the controller in his hands. The TV wasn’t even on. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, resting his chin on clasped together hands. He was thinking about what to do. Jǐngtì was sleeping in the other room and he didn’t know what to do with the boy next. Probably wait for Tanya to get him, but getting him to stay one night was a task and a half. Then there’ Mao Mao. Badgerclops rubbed his temples and groaned. What to do with that dumpster-fire? Jǐngtì wouldn’t tolerate being under the same roof as him, so Mao Mao couldn’t stay at HQ. On the other hand, Badgerclops really didn’t want to let him out of his sight. That was a problem waiting to happen.

The front door slammed shut. Badgerclops looked up to see Mao Mao scurrying into the bedroom. Badgerclops extended his arm with a sigh, picking the cat up and holding him out in front of him.

“You certainly took your sweet-”

Badgerclops stopped himself short. There was something off about Mao Mao.  More off than usual, at least. His fur was puffed up, he stank of sweat, and his chest was still heaving. His arms were clutched close to his chest. He held his sword in one hand, but the sheath wasn’t at his hip.

“What happened,” Badgerclops asked.

“There’s a demon outside,” he croaked.

Color him surprised, Mao Mao came across a monster he couldn’t kill. It would’ve been funny if the idea of something like that wasn’t so viscerally terrifying. Badgerclops got up from the couch to peek through the curtains. It was oddly pink outside, which was weird, but there was nothing there. He checked the window near the door and the checked backyard kitchen window. At that point Badgerclops was confident enough to step onto the porch and look around.

Still pink. Still nothing.

“I don’t see any monster,” he said.

“Not a monster. A demon,” Mao Mao corrected.

Badgerclops folded his arms. “I know that you know there’s no such thing as a demon.”

“What? Demons exist. There was literally one outside.”

Badgerclops huffed a sigh. He knew the cat was a lot of things: depressed, violent, traumatized, horrible for starters. Might as well add superstitious to that list.  He leaned closer to Mao Mao, looking at the side of his sclera. There were frazzled red veins poking out from the side.

“I think you just had a nightmare,” Badgerclops said,” don’t sleep outside, dude.”

“What? I didn’t have a nightmare-”

Badgerclops thrust a finger to his lips. “Shhh, your son is sleeping in the other room.”

Mao Mao slowed to a stop, quickly diverting his eyes to the floor. Badgerclops pulled away only to reach for Mao Mao when he tried to poke his head into the bedroom. “Don’t go back there! I barely got him to go to bed.”

“He’s not there.”

Badgerclops head snapped up. “What?”

“He’s not there,” Mao Mao repeated.

“What do you mean he’s not there.”

“Jǐngtì… he’s… not here.”

Badgerclops pushed Mao Mao out of the way. The blankets on the bottom bunk had been thrown aside; a cold draft blew through the open window. Badgerclops slammed it shut with a loud Slam! . A mistake. He forgot Adorabat was still sleeping. He could hear the child mumble, but Mao Mao scratched her behind the ears and lulled her back to sleep.

Badgerclops pinched the bridge of his nose. It was late, he was tired, and he was letting frustration win. He looked up when Mao Mao placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Badgerclops slowly turned to face him. The frustration he just forced down was boiling back up. He stood up, took a deep breath, and was this close to yelling before he caught himself. He grabbed Mao Mao and dragged him out of the bedroom, into the living room, and into the kitchen where he was sure he wouldn’t disturb Adorabat.

“What’s going-”

He cut Mao Mao off. “What the hell is wrong with you,” he hissed,” it doesn’t matter how capable you think he is! He’s still a child! You don’t just let them do what they want! You don’t let him room with criminals, you don’t let him wander off on his own, and you don’t put him in jail. He’s barely old enough to play outside without adult supervision. You can be as weird and fucked up as you want, but don’t push the same shit onto your kid.”

Mao Mao stepped back, finding himself trapped in between a corner and an angry badger. Badgerclops didn’t know what to expect from Mao Mao. It certainly wasn’t for Mao Mao’s emotions to boil over and leak out in the form of tears. Immediately, Badgerclops felt like shit.

“Listen, Mao Mao,” he started, but couldn’t finish.

“No. No. It's fine… I’m… I’m…”

Mao Mao stepped past Badgclops. He trudged his way to the couch and listlessly fell onto it. He grabbed his cape and pulled it over his head like it was a blanket. Mao Mao stayed there, a little curled up dough ball, quietly crying itself to sleep.

Badgerclops sat at the kitchen table and put his hands on his face.

What to do? What to do?